25 October 2006


Tami is a wonderful friend I have known for many years through Christian conferences and a desire to stay in touch. The past few years have brought us into a closer friendship which I truly cherish in spite of our busy lives and incredible distance. Recently, she moved to China with her husband. They will only be there temporarily, but for now it's much too far away and contact is sparser than ever.

**Tami, I know you are reading this, though I've got a feeling you were here just a little while ago and I've missed you for today. I don't have an email for you, which is fine (for now...or does the old one still work?). (I need to send you a care package; that means I need the information I asked for girl, especially a mailing address.) I want to hear details of your adventures in China and how Billy is doing. If you are simply short on time, then knowing you are reading my random blogness is good enough. I hope you are well and miss you much! (And if you want to blog about China, I'll help you get started...it would be fun to read!)**

24 October 2006

not coping

I am not coping well today. I can't even begin to tell you the reasons, but suffice it to say it's way past "one of those days". I almost never cry. My eyes are now burning and it's not even 10:30am. I want to curl into a ball and sleep my day away, begging for tomorrow to be better. And this, with one kid at school, the other being an angel. It's just that bad.

16 October 2006

jeans and a sweatshirt

It is deliciously Autumn right now. Today was wet and cool and the leaves are painting their faces with lovely shades of color. This weather invigorates me. I become inspired to think and ponder and write and clean and decide and do and live. I even long to be outside rather than inside (no other time of years instigates this feeling). I can wear my beloved jeans and a sweatshirt without getting too hot. Nights are crisp like a red apple and soon I'll be able to see the frost of my words in the air. I feel clean and alive on days like this.

15 October 2006

my little brother

My brother is a God-loving man. He has grown up with this a part of him. But sometime in the past year he delved his entire being deeper into the heart of God. He has sought to immerse himself with God’s Truth and be an expression of Him. My parents and I have watched him with a thrilled awe. My little brother has gone from a self-assured, confident man who deeply loved his God, his family and his friends to a man who is walking assuredly with the One who loves him most, pouring his entire self out for His purpose, and giving the core of his being on the alter for his Lord’s purpose. He longs to serve the Lord in a daily way. I can hear it in his voice, see it on his face.

His plans for the future are not different, his interests and hobbies have not changed. But his love for the Lord is deeper and stronger, his openness before us, his family, is laid bare and honest. In some ways he is finally “growing up”, and in other ways he seems to be at the beginning of a new journey. Something in his spirit is deeply refreshed, watered.

I have always loved my brother. (I may not have “liked” him very much during some stages of our lives, but that’s different.) And during the years when he was in college, he matured and our relationship followed suit. It was a natural progression of time, I suppose. But this. This is so much more than “he’s grown up”. There is a sweetness to this new season. Now, when he calls me, he really calls to share his heart, not the surface of what he is experiencing. I am able to do likewise for the first time.

And in this, something within myself and my spirit is also refreshed, watered, nurtured.

13 October 2006

God's mysterious ways?

My son has spent his morning changing from one costume to another (he woke up a firefighter, then was Spiderman and most recently was a doctor), and was directed to stop playing and please put the multitude of dirty clothes around the floor into the hamper.

Little B (hurrying from his room as if on a mission): There are these lights and they’re flashing. (his hands move rapidly)

Me: What about them?

Little B: I think they might be a message from God.

Me: Maybe it’s just the sunlight shining into your room (the blinds are closed and a bush is outside the room)

Little B: No, I think it’s a message.

Me: Really? What kind of message?

Little B: I don’t know. Come quick, I’ll show you. It might be gone already.

*I go, I look, I don’t see.*

Little B: It’s gone.

We are still intermittently discussing the lights. I’ve tried to explain why I think it’s the sun, and since I couldn’t convince him I’ve since asked if it was a message about cleaning his room since the lights were in there. No, not about that, but maybe we need to call a detective to help figure it out.

12 October 2006


Shot in the Arm
At last, my tetanus shot has gone from a raging, screaming ache deep in the upper arm to a small bruise that hurts a little when I rub it. I thought my arm might fall off the last two days. Sheesh. The cut that brought it on paled in comparison for a while. Now, the stab-wound has resumed it's rightful place as sore, painful when bumped (that place gets knocked around easily and frequently, I might add), and healing well. Thank you for your sympathies!

Shot in the Dark
I have been toying with the idea of making a few Mei Tai style baby slings and trying to sell or consign them at a local boutique. (I have not yet discussed this with any shops.)
Now, I'm still teaching myself to sew--a far cry from an expert, but I can make these pretty well and enjoy it; I've made a couple for myself and friends. I could also use the extra income if indeed it would generate a bit! There are a few kid's consignment shops in the area I considered speaking with as well.
I don't want a huge web-based business (I'm not that good or versatile for one thing); besides, the sheer number of baby-wearing sites has intensely multiplied in the past couple of years. It's insane! So, I thought "local" sounded more realistic, and controllable as well. I guess. Do you hear me second guessing my every move? Well, I deleted some of it, but I am. Argh.

09 October 2006

knife weaving--not a new craft idea

Oh, the stupid things we do. I mean, really.

Yesterday I was—no, I need to back up.

Saturday—nope, not far enough.

When we moved in there was a dirty, grimy plastic cabinet left on the back porch. I was excited. I looked forward to cleaning it up and making good use of it. I’m thinking bubbles for easy access and stuff like that. It just made sense to me. Now, when I say grimy, I mean it was really filthy and they left some trash and stuff inside—including on old steak knife, probably from grilling out.

Last weekend we were doing a lot of cleaning and arranging in the garage to make room for the second car (nope, we’re still not finished unpacking, but it’s getting there, slowly but surely). A lot of boxes went to the bonus room that day. Anyhow, while we were out there we let Little B earn a bit of money by cleaning said cabinet. Hose, sponges and brushes, soap. Fun, you know? He did have a blast. My husband just carried the thing around and away he scrubbed. At the time, I gave no thought to where he put the aforementioned stuff/trash from inside. My intent all along was to completely throw away the knife. I mean, it had a bit of rust on the edge and stuff, and heck, who knows what it was really used for.

Well, we’d never discussed that knife. It just didn’t hit high priority, you know? So, Saturday I had cooked dinner and grabbed a knife from my knife stash to cut up some meat and veggies for Miss C. It looked different, and I absently considered that my mom must have left it as she often does with things she finds and thinks I’ll like. I did notice it looked old, almost rusty, but wasn’t sure what to think of the spots further up the blade and decided to just try it out anyway.

After my husband came in, I mentioned that I didn’t know where that knife had come from and he told me it was from that old cabinet (he had run it through the dishwasher, but still!). I, uh, ahem, got a bit upset, and told him he could cut more food for Miss C since I didn’t want to feed her after using that particular knife on it. And I proceeded to set the knife back on the counter to be disposed of. I noticed then that it was actually broken anyway—the blade separating from the handle. I don’t know how I missed it before, but anyway, that’s not the point (no pun intended).

Yesterday afternoon, I stayed home with a severe migraine and let my husband take Little B to my parent’s for a fall festival in their town (I kept Miss C, but she did nap part of the time). After the intensity had subsided, I puttered around, not particularly cleaning but when I saw the knife, I immediately wanted to dispose of it, having forgotten the night before. I’m not even going to share all the stupid details of what I did, but suffice it to say I removed the blade from the handle since that was coming apart. Before putting into the folded up cardboard and taping it, I managed to stab my hand.

Just beneath the pointer finger, the palm side up, there is a lovely ½ inch cut, going across. An inch below that there is what appears to be a tiny cut, as though a blade nicked me; can we say, “exit wound”? I can. Oh, and below that you will see yet another, tinier spot, almost like needle prick; that would be a “would-be re-entry wound.” I was knife-weaving in my hand. Oh joy.

I will spare you the blood and gore if it, but suffice it to say I got it under control after a couple of minutes and wrapped way too much gauze and tape around the palm of my hand simply for pressure to prevent more bloodshed.

It was much later that night when the vague thoughts of “tetanus shot” really took ground in my mind. That knife had not been re-washed since using it for food and it did have what I would say is rust, though not really where it got me. I called my mommy to talk about it—I still need her! She said I needed to call someone and make sure there was not a time limit when needing one. Oh, and I was still trying to decide if I needed any stitches. Haha!

I called the nurse-on-call with my insurance and they said I had 48 hours to get the shot, the doctor could tell me if I needed stitches. Okay, night-night.

Today, I saw my doctor. I got the tetanus shot. I found out I would have gotten one, maybe two stitches yesterday if I’d seen someone. But you have to take care of that within 10 hours of the injury! Oh well. At least it’s healing. Though my arm is terribly sore from that shot. I dont' know when I last had a tetanus shot! And my wonderful husband stayed home to drive me since it’s my right hand and I drive a manual transmission. He even changed not one but two dirty diapers. I told you he was great.

04 October 2006

nine years

nine years of loving
nine years of you
nine years of us
nine years of learning
nine years of giving
nine years of sharing
nine years of busyness
nine years of growing
nine years of good
nine years of bad
nine years of ugly
nine years of happiness
nine years of trying
nine years of craziness
nine years of laughter
nine years of being
nine years of marriage
nine years of waking up and being glad I have another day with you

happy anniversary my love