Two Days

I have Friday off from work. And nothing scheduled Saturday. Two days.  I am working out things to have both days to devote to home keeping.  Not housework.  That should be completed by Thursday’s bedtime.  The activity to which I am referring is more like making things pretty.

I have several projects lined up to create ornamental objects for the house. One is actually for Christmas decorating. I won’t reveal that at this time.  I will have to see how it turns out before I publish it.  A long while back I purchased some very large framed oil paintings super cheap from the thrift store.  The subject matter is not why I bought them.  I wanted the frames and the large sized canvases.  I intend to gesso over them and put my own creations in place.  I have no thought to do a painting.  But, I do have an idea with which I want to experiment.

The weather is predicted to be pleasant enough to work outside. I hope to do a lot of catching up on the yard work.  Every area is behind on care.  I have good layer of pine straw in the front yard.  I want to clean the azalea bed and mulch with the fresh straw.  The purple jew is overflowing its area and I want to move it to a better spot.  Weeds, weeds, weeds. I don’t even want to think about that topic right now.  Yard work is excellent therapy for the mind and soul.

Part of my working out being able to stay home the two days was seeing someone this evening. Someone I love is in the hospital.  I needed to see her tonight so I could have my two days without fretting about her.  She seems a little improved.  I told her I was coming.  She said I didn’t need to go all that way.  I told her I was coming anyway and could I bring her anything.  A coke from Sonic.

I hope my coming helped her. It helped me.  I recently saw a meme that reads: Find your tribe. Love them hard.  I am defining my tribe. Redefining, I suppose.  I want her to be part of it.  So I needed to do something to connect.  She always reminds us that we are strong women from a long line of strong women.  She has to be the strongest of us, though.  Frail, delicate, brave, and tougher than old shoe leather.

I appreciate him for supporting my going. I appreciate how much he supports me in so many ways for so many things.  I appreciate his never giving up on his crazy wife.  My half-baked ideas and goofy schemes make him shake his head.

The walking is going well.   I have been getting some photographs along the way.  There is so much to see and things change constantly.  Leaves turning, flowers, the sky, the light on the water.  Then, there are the trees themselves.  So beautiful and so often overlooked.  Seen as window dressing rather than a focal point.  A frame around the view.  But, I love the trees.  See…….black lace.

fullsizerender-22

 

Advertisements

Oops!

Yes, I know it is Thursday. I did not really forget to do Raining Orchids yesterday.  I just forgot when it got time to do it.  Sometime this morning or maybe late last night when I was almost asleep, I remembered I had not posted.  Coming back to reality after the past couple of weeks is taking its toll on me!

I was a little concerned I would not have much to get excited about for a little while. I was wrong.

I got my iPod going last month. He bought me a new one for my birthday.  I waited until this week to start walking the track again.  Between all the scheduled traveling and the deadly heat, it seemed prudent to wait.  Even today, the heat is causing me to delay a while.  I need the track time.  I sleep better when I have made a few laps.  Better sleep makes for better days altogether.

We have a special event coming up at church. I am looking forward to the event and also the preparations I will have a part in leading up to it.  There is a vacancy at the church he and I are trying to help cover.  I have not worked with youth in years.  A couple of girls come fairly regularly and are delightful to engage in conversation.  He is trying to cover Sunday School and I am trying to do something Wednesday evening until a regular youth minister can be hired.

A new issue of Bella Grace should be on the rack at the bookstore.  I need to pick up some supplies for the activities at church in the big town an hour south of us tomorrow.  I have a few items still needing to be packed up and shipped west.  The gathering of the girls that was delayed last month due to illness has been rescheduled.

We have weathered heartbreaking losses over the years. We are managing something that is devastating to think about.  My mother’s sister has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s for a few years now.  I take her sister to visit her and we have a small party with “the girls” so as not to overwhelm her.  We dress up and act silly for a few hours every month when possible.  When I say dress up: we are dressing up as clowns for our ritual group photo this time.  I hope the littlest one isn’t afraid of clowns.

My life is ridiculously simple to most folks. My life is incredibly rich to me. Small delights and great blessings abound.  Orchids are pouring down upon me. It doesn’t seem right to not be happy.  Not with all I have undeservedly been given.

I always thought somehow we would all finally get well and gather together and live happily ever after. It took me so long to figure out that life is not a destination. I don’t know when I started grasping that idea.  I don’t know if I fully grasp that idea.  Part of me is still waiting for everyone to come home.

Life is what it is. Someone very dear to me recently told me something his father has been telling me for so many years. We were sitting out on the deck looking out over the mountains behind his house.  Talking about this and that.  He said:

“Just be happy.”

Okay, son. I will.  I am.

fullsizerender-17

Still Too Much

Last week I did a photo group of what I was taking with me for five nights in San Dimas, California, via plane trip.

I still had two shirts I didn’t wear. I opened my Nook for about 3 minutes on the flight out there.  I didn’t wear or need the jacket I took.  I would take it again anyway.  I left my damp swimsuit with my son’s bride to run through the wash and stow.  We had a late evening swim the last night I was there in the newly filled pool.  I plan to need it there, again.

Hollywood is an experience! The crowds on the street were a little overwhelming. Like midway at the fair here in the country.  I did love the opportunity to see some things in person.

The pier at Santa Monica is crazy. Well, the folks on it seem to be. On the pier and along the boardwalk we saw some interesting characters.  I know what slacklining is now.

I got to put my feet in the Pacific again. I always try to take a photo of my feet in the sand at the edge of the water.  Just one of my personal traditions or rituals.

The best part of my trip was simply the visit with two of my favorite people in the world. Just being in the house and watching them living was worth more than anything.  Did I mention how talented his bride is at decorating their home?  So lovely and tastefully done.

Well, actually the best part of my trip was this:

I had the privilege of feeling our little one kicking and squirming. I got to hook up to Facetime and share a photo session with him.  It was a shoot of her perfect little face and a wonderful little hand and two little feet with legs crossed at the ankles.  The wonders of technology exposing the miracles of Him!  It is all so surreal.

It’s good to be back home. With him.  But, come on November!  I am ready to fly again.  Next time we go together.  For a very special someone’s Grand Entrance!

There was a lot of too much this past week. I took too much stuff in my bags.  I was stunned by too much traffic in the Greater Los Angeles area. The concept of that little girl growing is still too much for me to grasp.  I can’t completely write or even think about her.  I become overwhelmed with too much emotion, still.

I will set aside a day, soon, to let my mind and heart go. I will let it all be too much and when my tears have been shed, I will know it is all much too wonderful, still.

FullSizeRender (16)

 

Difficult Times

The past few weeks have been trying. Several areas of my life have been in turmoil.  I came home early from the 9 to 5 Monday.  I couldn’t stop crying.

I did what was needed to manage the situation. A little dinner, a little nap, a lot of Scripture and prayer. By the evening, I was better. Drained, but better.

Tuesday was better and today is going fine. Tomorrow is Friday Eve.  So all is well.

The weekend holds promise for a blessed time with the clowns…I mean the girls. Our party theme is clowns and our menu is salads.  I am going retro with a Jell-O molded shrimp salad.  I was thinking maybe my aunt’s Southwestern Salad would be a good one, too.

I should not have been so down after Saturday’s adventures. Fishing, breakfast at the lake, a nap, a buggy ride at the lease.  He and I had a great day.  I was feeling ill on and off all day Saturday, though.  I still don’t know if I was stressed and depressed or fighting a real illness.  That is the thing about the depression. It simulates the symptoms of a cold or the early stages of the flu.  Body aches, fatigue, fuzzy head.  I usually manage the thoughts and feelings pretty well.  Especially the thoughts.  The feelings and the body symptoms are the difficult part to manage.

A lot of prayer, some rest, some talking to golden friends, his nurturing love, His nurturing Love, all worked together to put me on track.

The cherry on top was a short video of a high-kicker from Cali! That made everything grand, again! Funny how grands will do that!

I cannot overstate how grateful I am for the healing I have experienced the past few years. Recovering from the devastating grief our family has suffered has been a slow process.  I still reel from it if I let myself think too much about who is missing in our lives.  But, the future is full of hope.  The future is full of beauty.  The future is full of love.  All the love from all the past loved ones will continue into the future through our generation to the next.

I recently read a book that asked what I would want to be remembered for at my passing. I hope I am remembered for believing in love and the power it holds to restore and renew and prosper the mind, heart and spirit.

My political statement: His Love Matters.

 IMG_1092

 

A Ticket

I have a ticket to fly to California! I am going to see our son and his bride. And I am going to touch a tummy to feel her kick, I hope!  She seems like a half remembered dream.  I can’t get my mind wrapped around the reality of her existence.  I see the pictures of the ultrasounds. And, yet….

I have felt a shift in my perception of my world, too. I don’t know if it is the recent birthday or the slowly developing thought of her coming.  Perhaps, both? Things I thought I wanted are fading. Even the things I thought I wanted for grands is changing.  I had some preconceived ideas about what I wanted to do and how I wanted things to be when they came to our house.  I may be letting go of those ideas in favor of more meaningful ones.

I was thinking about what my grandmothers meant to me. What happened when I was with them that made the difference? What made them so golden in my memory? They listened to me. They wanted me near them always. They just paused and connected with me.

I could tell them anything. Especially my maternal grandmother. I could say whatever and she would never be shocked.  Only one time did she fuss at me.  I was mad at my mother. I was about 18.  She told me to get over myself and be respectful and compliant with my mother’s wishes.  I don’t even know what the details of the disagreement were.

Time. Not toys, games, events, tea parties and costumes. Time is what they gave me. Never too busy to sit and snuggle or hold me in their laps.  Even as a gangly teen, my one granny would hold me in her lap. Our big adventures amounted to walking to the cemetery on a dark night or watching the full moon rise over the lake.

My paternal grandmother would let me do her makeup for her. I would smear the green primer over her smooth rosy cheeks.  Then, the foundation and powder. I think that is all she used.  I was quite young when I started.  I don’t recall ever seeing her correct my work.  She likely did when I wasn’t looking.  Later, after her stroke, when she would come visit, I would help her dress.  She didn’t really need the help, but it was a few moments of intimacy we both loved.

My own children were young when my mother left this world. They have some memories of her. His mother saw them to young adulthood before she left us.  Both of them left their mark on the lives of our children.  Our daughter is so much like both of her grandmothers. Our son, too, has some ideas traced to them.  His love of fun and ability to connect to people are part of that legacy.

What legacy will I create for the California Dream? I want her to know that she is loved as much as one human being can love another. Already. Even though she is elusive in my mind, she is rock solid in my heart.

I will be on a westbound airliner, soon, little one. The love is already pouring out of my eyes and down my cheeks.

IMG_1085

#32#weddedbliss#hardheaded

Tomorrow marks 32 years of wedded bliss for the two of us! Of course, it hasn’t all been bliss….  We have had many challenges to face together. We have had many challenges to face head to head.  Our hard heads butting against each other.

That very characteristic we share is the reason we are still together. We are both too hard headed to give up or give in.

Yes, there were times we may have wondered what was going on and why were things happening that shouldn’t. He may or may not agree with that.  I don’t know if he gives such things much thought.

He is the man God needed to take care of me. I had such a rough time getting through things that happened when I was younger.  He fought the demons that tortured me.  With words, actions and prayers he fought for me.

I still have moments or even days of blue and black moods. I am confident to state I feel mostly healed. There are scars. But, the wounds don’t seem to be open.

He is strong. He is tough. He is brave. He is my champion.  He is my rock. Did I mention he is tough?

He does have a tender heart. It is way down under all that gruff exterior. He melts over babies and children.  He adores old folks.  His love and compassionate concern for our children is overwhelming at times. He loves our Father and His Son beyond measure.

He seems to like me most of the time. He puts up with me and my goofy self. He isn’t as hard on me as he used to be.  I don’t know if it is because he is mellowing or because I am becoming one of those old folks he adores.

I completely appreciate who he is, good and bad, tough and tender. I completely appreciate our long life together.  How precious it is to have such a friend.  Thirty two years since we vowed ourselves to each other before Him.

Two years since our vow renewal. We didn’t really need it, but our daughter wanted me to have a “wedding ceremony”.  I completely appreciate her and the rest of the crew making such a marvelous event happen!

We have special things going on in our lives right now. Still too precious to write about.  I get overwhelmed with emotion.  Today, California is a million miles away.

But, he will be home shortly. Just having him at home makes everything better.  I am so glad we are both so hard headed.  I love him beyond measure. #happyanniversary#rock

 to crop

A Long Week

This has felt like a long week. I’m very glad for the upcoming three-day weekend and four-day work week to follow.

We have been working on the yard. He and our son cut a large oak down in the front yard several weeks ago.  It was way too close to the house.  It was a risk during storms.  The roots and overhanging limbs were too near the foundation and roof.  We have the debris almost cleaned up from that.

I am developing some more flower beds. I have a spiky yucca at the front of the house.  I decided I don’t like it being reachable by tiny fingers, so I am expanding the bed around it.  I have plenty of things to fill up a large area.  Elephant ears, day lilies, cannas, sago palms.  Although, this plan is subject to change.

There is a large mound of purple jew providing starts along the front of the house. I am trying to decide if I want to run it all the way across the front or stop at the front door where it is now.

He has set up a deck out back. It needs some more work.  I am already enjoying it, though.  I have supplies to transform a table and chairs to use outside under the carport.  I want the barbecue pit easier to use and a spot to camp when I am tending the groceries on the fire.

I love being outside. When we lived at Campers Cove, I set up a space with a glider, throws, pillows, a table.  I surrounded the area with pots of tropical plants.  It was situated so I could leave things out all day and go back and forth to my work and my rest.

The porch here is enclosed with windows. I love having it.  I spend most of my free time out here.  But, there is something about feeling the outdoors that has a healing effect on my soul.

The digging in the dirt I have been doing is also working its magic. Whether pulling weeds, relocating a plant, watering and feeding things, raking and burning, all are helpful.

I made a comment to a co-worker about my future retirement. I indicated certain things would change for me because I would have a different lifestyle.  It would be more like the way I lived before I joined the 9-5 throng.  I decided I don’t want to wait until later to have my chosen lifestyle.  I will do as much as I can in the time I have to create the life I dream about.

He has been helping me get things done I am physically unable to do. I am a middle-aged, fluffy female. My muscle strength is limited.  I have no idea how to make a tractor or chain saw work even if I were strong enough.  Thankfully, he has been spending time out with me doing those sorts of things.

No, I won’t be able to do everything right now. I can do a great deal, though.  So, I have started digging in the dirt with earnest. I have made up my mind to tackle big projects I have been putting off due to lack of time and energy.  At least that was my excuse. I will make the time and the energy will come.

I have made myself let down some barriers and visited face to face with some people. I have stepped out of my comfortable cocoon and connected personally with others. I still have a ways to go with this one.

I read a book that explained human energy. Barring physical illness, human energy is largely emotional.  It certainly is for me.  If I am tired after a long day or long week and he mentions something I really love doing or someplace I love to go, suddenly I have a surge of energy to get going.  If it is someplace or something I would rather not engage, I have even less energy and more fatigue.

I know if I get moving and keep moving, I will get to my goal. My destination, whatever it may be.  Or at least I will travel on the path toward it.  The journey is the thing.  To keep traveling the journey path.  Whatever it is and wherever it goes.

I believe if I keep following not my fickle heart, but the Spirit leading me, I will have contentment and satisfaction when I lay my head on my pillow to sleep. I listen to my gut feeling, my intuition.  That is where I find His answers for me.  I have known Him so long, I recognize His instructions.  A gentle peace or a hard conviction.  Or just a knowing something is right.  I don’t always heed, but He takes care of that, too.

Just a chair in the shade, a glass of iced tea, a flower or two around. Birds, frogs and bugs serenading me.  Pondering whether to move that plant over there or over here.  Plucking a ripe cucumber and a few squash to take in for supper.  Getting my heart ready to love him when he comes in the door.  Pretty good journey path if you ask me.