Give Me A Break!

My new best friend:

In the midst of all the other drama of the last two weeks, our refrigerator died. Not the freezer. Just the fridge. Yeah. I was thrilled.

Needless to say, this necessitated cleaning out all the, hmmm, food and washing down the old one. It was a youthful 15 years old and I was quite attached to it. I knew just where my hand should be when I reached in for an item. The shelves were just the right size and place for my habitual reaching in and out. We were sympatico'.

Now, though, I am having to learn a new friend. There is no egg drawer. None of the refrigerators we looked at had one. There is a butter door, but no egg. What sense does that make? And, the shelf adjustments just don't offer the range the other one does. But, it is bigger. And cleaner. And shiner. And weighs a whole lot less than its predessor.

So, I am learning it and it is learning me. For example, the door is so much lighter that it no longer closes on its own. As a result, I can no longer sneak in and grab something without the Mister knowing. I have to be vigilant in making sure the door closes or I am busted. And, as there are not the same shelf levels, I have no secret hidey hole under the cheese door for my candy. Then there is the whole issue of every shelf and drawer being completely clear. How am I expected to hide my treats if the whole thing is transparent?

I think I see a pattern here... and I am not sure I like it. This new refrigerator is co-conspirator with Weight Watchers. Can't a girl get one break??

Those Three Dreaded Words

Van Gogh's "Potato Eaters"

"What's for supper??"

I hate trying to come up with meals, do you? I have tried menus and planning. I have tried holding out for just cereal. And, I have tried being a Sunday planner for the week. Nothing holds my interest.

Personally, I could have a milk shake every night and be quite satisfied. But, not the Mister. He wants meat. Lots of meat. Bleh. Salads would be good, but he ends up hungry an hour later. And, since we are doing the Gazelle Dave Ramsey Plan, we don't like to eat out more than once a week for any meal -- Thursdays -- breakfast -- Aunt Bea's.  $6.76 every week. No compromise.

Anyhow, I have grown weary with meal dodging and have decided I need to either enter a 12-step program for Meal Haters Anonymous.... or, I need to come up with a cunning plan... or exploit other's ideas.

So, how do you handle this challenge??

Random Thoughts....

It snowed yesterday. Two inches.

Today the sun was shining and it was 60-degrees.

What's up with that??

If I were clever, I'd show you a picture of something wonderful. Tonight I am not clever. I am tired. Bone tired. Why can't women sleep sitting up like men?? Doesn't their neck hurt? Don't they drool on themselves? How do they do that??

I have decided that if I get a redo of my life, I am either coming back as a poodle or a Southern man. Either has little sense and both are over indulged.

Good night!

Being Female Ain't So Bad

Last night, after a very sudden illness, the Mister's brother died.

The last four days have been surreal and we have not even begun to really understand what happened. And, yet, there is one thing I am completely grateful for: being a woman.

As four women stood around him as he prepared to leave us (and, honestly, the Mister was there so we can make him an honorary woman), I realized something amazing: women are there to bring life in and we are there to hold hands as it leaves. What a gift. No man can understand the fullness of this wonder.

Think of it.

We alone know the life coming from us. It is the one true time we are the vehicle for God's greatest miracle. Women alone can know the intimacy of that life: we feel it; we talk to it; we love it long before it has a face.

And, on the other end of the chain, women alone are the ones who stand in service and preparation for life to leave. We are the nurses, caretakers, preparers (until modern times when the undertaker undertook our responsibility), and planners. We make sure the life is remembered fully and, we carry in our hearts the memories of watching that life leave.

As our dear one left yesterday, he opened his eyes and looked one last time at the first face he ever saw. Somehow, it was fitting and proper. It was sacred.

This is my favorite song. You will recognize the voices as they are the girls from the movie "O Brother, Where Art Thou." Enjoy.

First Day Musings -- Could It Be??

Planted in puddles throughout my yard so that I might see them from where ever I am in the house, are daffodils. I had a deal with my parents when I was a child: I could go barefoot as soon as the first flower appeared. For this reason alone, daffodils could be my favorite flower. But, I love them, as well, for the reasons poets best can tell...

William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Song of Solomon 2:11–12

... for behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.


Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Afternoon on a Hill"
will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.

Walt Whitman
A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.


William Allingham

Pluck not the wayside flower;

It is the traveler's dower.

Matthew 6:29
And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.


Shall we meet in the yard, have a cuppa, and watch the flowers grow? Have a glorious First Day, won't you?

Nothing As Sweet....

allposters.com

... as home... We say this, but have you ever thought about how truly fortunate you are?

Yesterday I was helping my parents finish cleaning up one of their rental houses for a new tenant. The previous one had pretty much trashed it and there was plenty to be done. As we closed in on the last of the work yesterday, Mother was telling me about how excited the new tenant was about the house.

Seems the woman was born with many birth defects and has required a great deal of surgeries. Many of the surgeries and defects have left her with very visable disfigurements, yet, she has the loveliest voice one can imagine, Mother said. This woman has met the man of her dreams and they are marrying and moving into the rental. And, she had big dreams for this little cottage -- a table here, flowers in the yard there, vegetables in the back. This was the home and life she had always dreamt of and doubted she would have.

As Mother talked, I thought about how fortunate we are that we all have another person who is meant just for us. And, I pondered a statement Mother made: "The tenant said she never thought she could have a home as nice as this one." That gave me pause. The house rents for very little, frankly, and is quite old -- at least 85 years old --- and had very little updates. While this can be charming, this house really needs a lot of love.

The floor plan is terrible; the floor dips in places in spite of being levelled recently; and, well, the bathroom could use a good gutting even though it is quite sizable with new fixtures and a ginormous porcelain tub. And, the carpets are new, the windows have been replaced, and the kitchen gets a huge amount of sunshine. But, personally, I would have to do a lot of cosmetic work to be satisfied .... until I was straightened out by a single sentence.

Then, I saw the house with new eyes.

I could see the quirkiness as charming and even the bathroom took on a quaintness that enchanted me. I wondered how many others had started there and birthed children and dreams together. In short, I had forgotten to count my own blessings until I had to realize what others saw as a blessing.

As I finished my painting, I did so with a conscious blessing for happiness as this new family begins in this house.

And, today, I gave my front door a kiss when I came in. Isn't home a blessing??

Don't Mess With My Schedule!

Normally, my day begins around 5 a.m. Between feeding, breakfast, dressing, and the morning commute, it is just easier to start so early. This means that everyone on the place is ready to eat no later than 5:30 -- especially Monsuier Wookie. And, of all the folks, he is the one who is most vocal if things are not kept on his stomach's schedule.

All week I have slept in, hoping to rid myself of the plague, and so, the Mister has run interference, keeping everyone's stomach content. This morning, though, he was as tired as I and stayed in bed.... until Wookie decided he was going to eat. No If Ands Or Buts.

He started his attack by standing on my hip.

He barked (yes, Maine Coons bark: "Meh!")

He walked up to my face and gently patted it with his paw. He patted again, not so gently, but got no response.

He put his nose to mine and barked again.

He pulled the covers down from my chin and barked yet again.

He turned around and struck me in the face with his very large, bushy tail.

He barked a little more insistantly.

Much to his dismay, I turned over, completely ignoring his pleas. After all, I am in charge, right?

This insult was more than he could stand.

Jumping over my head, he burrowed under the covers and stuck his nose under my night shirt.

Needless to say, he won.

Don't forget Amy's Farm Friend Friday! It is so fun to visit the other farm gals!