by jphilo | May 27, 2009 | Daily Life
Today is not my best day ever. I have a bad headache, I’m tired from too much weekend and overwhelmed by deadlines. Three dear friends shared hard, hard struggles with me yesterday, and I can’t fix what’s wrong. The weeds are growing and there’s no time to pull them. The house is dirty and there’s no time to clean it. I’m feeling so stressed I was tempted to cut my walk short this morning (I didn’t) and to snap at my husband (I did).
The only cure for this gloomy state of mind is to count blessings. So here goes.
- On Sunday, my son hugged me good-by and said he loved me.
- My daughter introduced her boyfriend to the extended fam this weekend, and he still calls her.
- My kids enjoyed being together this weekend. Watching them discover common interests and create memories was worth any amount of tired I feel this week.
- It rained yesterday. Now I don’t have to water flowers for a few days.
- The new leak in the spigot that runs to the washing machine (plumbing disasters have been a constant theme this spring) happened on Hiram’s day off.
- Hiram is all over the leak and this week’s laundry.
- My headache reminds me of how fast I move and get done on non-headache days.
- I have three friends who shared their struggles with me yesterday.
- I have lots of writing deadlines because I have lots of writing assignments.
- This morning I saw a dear lying in the woods. It let me take it’s picture.
- The iris are blooming.
- The rhubarb is ready to pick.
- The pink peonies are opening.
- Our Creator provides not only life and breath, but also beauty.
- I can walk.
Now, on with the day.
by jphilo | May 22, 2009 | Daily Life
I am pleased to announce that the Great Bee Invasion of ’09 has ended without a single human casualty. The thirty-some bees who claimed our living room as their own weren’t quite so fortunate, and we have no way to garner an accurate count of those Hiram gassed to death. Our best guess is that a whole bunch died.
What we now recognize as enemy scouts had been buzzing around the living room for the past couple days. But we kept them under control with the fly swatter until yesterday afternoon when the invaders launched their troop surge, and they grew so noisy, I couldn’t concentrate on writing. I inflicted minor damage with the fly swatter again, but the buzzing grew louder. A closer look at the double windows on the north wall revealed dozens of bees frantically searching for a route outdoors.
A trip outside and I found the north side of the house a-buzz with bees swarming the foundation. The fly swatter wasn’t much use against those numbers. It was time for the big guns. “Hiram,” I yelled.
A few moments later, my husband, my knight with shining insecticide, attacked the ravaging hoards with numerous cans of bug killer which he later explained he had rescued from Mom’s garage when we cleaned out her house. Once the frontal attack was underway, I cleaned up the remaining pockets of resistance buzzing around the living room windows. Soon the wood floor was littered with striped bodies convulsed by death throes.
We had a quiet night, but this morning, one bold and foolish fella dive-bombed my journal while I was writing. I barely blinked, just whacked him good and brushed him to the floor. Who knows how many other diehards still lurk in dark corners, waiting to attack again? Just in case, I’m keeping the fly swatter handy.
Life is tough along our gravel road. The bees can tell you that the people who live here are tougher. Well, they would tell you if they weren’t dead. But they are dead, so if you’re thinking of invading our house, heed this warning. We’re armed with fly swatters and bug killer. You’d best run for your lives, cowboy.
by jphilo | Apr 27, 2009 | Daily Life
Not too long ago, my husband bought a pair of tennis shoes designed to pamper his size fourteen feet. These babies are so loaded with bells and whistles, they put every other shoe in the house to shame. I mean, how can a plain brown leather shoe, no matter how fine the leather or how comfy the arch support, compete with silver, white, yellow and blue aerodynamic shoes, complete with zig zag patterns, reflectors and two inches of tread?
Not too long ago, I went to the dentist and came home with a new toothbrush. The thing was a gargantuan, technological wonder – blue, yellow, and white with ergonomic curves, aerodynamic bristles attached to a base peppered with soft, mouth-friendly plastic doohickeys. It intimidated every other toothbrush in the bathroom and was so big it wouldn’t fit into the toothbrush holder.
At bedtime, I showed it to Hiram. “It kinda reminds me of your new tennis shoes.”
He nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Is it just me,” I wondered, “or has our bigger-is-better, complicated-is-better design mentality gotten out of hand?”
Over the next few days, several other examples of this mentality came to my attention. Two appliances, a big, new toaster and big, crock pot, barely fit into the appliance garage that, thirteen years ago, easily held my old toaster and crock pot, along with a knife holder.
When Mom gave up housekeeping, I brought a couple of her spatulas home. They quickly became my favorites, and Hiram’s, too. “They’re so much easier to handle,” he said. And he’s right. They’re smaller, much more convenient than the spatulas we’ve used for years, only because they were all that was available for purchase.
At this house, at least, we’d like to relinquish the bigger-is-better mantle. We’re ready for simpler, smaller, and fewer. But we have to figure out how to do it. Short of cutting off Hiram’s toes, I think the big tennis shoes are here to stay. But at my next dentist appointment I’ll ask for a smaller toothbrush. And next time the toaster or the TV or the washer or drier dies, I’ll try to downsize when we pick replacements.
Maybe, as a reminder, I should take along the monster toothbrush. But there’s a problem with that. It won’t fit in my purse.
by jphilo | Apr 23, 2009 | Daily Life
Monday, when the forecast for a week of lovely weather came out, I knew it was my chance to wash windows. But, with writing deadlines to meet, I didn’t have a day for the project. Instead, I resolved to clean two windows a day as long as the good weather holds.
So far, I’m on track even though plumbing problems left us without water off and on for two days. The dirt and bug splat on the windows is appalling, and the number of dead Asian soy beetles nestled in every nook and cranny of the window frames and screens is mind-boggling. But, I persevere for one reason only. I’m listening to The Story of Edgar Sawtell on my iPod and can’t wait to see how the book ends.
After twenty-five years of reading stories to kids after lunch every day, having someone read to me is pure bliss, even if I’m doing housework while I listen. In fact, a person could judge the quality of the current selection on my iPod by the cleanliness of my house. Only a truly memorable book could make me eager to wash windows.
So forgive me if this post is a bit short, but the windows in Anne’s bedroom are calling. Well, the windows and Edgar Sawtell, which is amazing since he’s mute.
You want to know more? Start washing windows.
by jphilo | Apr 17, 2009 | Daily Life
A dandelion’s been growing outside our back door for years, nestled against an ancient boot scraper. When I walked outside this morning, my neighbor opened it’s round, yellow mouth wand shouted, “Spring! It’s spring!”
Her friendly conversation cheered me, though I know in a few days her tongue will sprout hundreds of fuzzy white forks and spew them like gossip on the four winds. All summer, I will curse any of her offspring that take up residence in my flower beds. Over and over I will think, “I should have poisoned the monster in April before she did any damage,” and chide myself for being a pushover.
But today, I don’t have the heart to kill this tow-haired beauty in her ruffled, green gown. How can I destroy something that makes me smile whenever I open the door? How can I kill this herald of spring who survived a long, cold winter and is enjoying a day in the sun?
When the warm days are commonplace and she turns obnoxious, I’ll find the weed-killer. Then again, maybe not. If she’s not there next spring, I’d miss. And the boot scraper, the old softy, would be lonely without her.
Maybe I should let her live another year. Good neighbors are hard to find.
by jphilo | Apr 16, 2009 | Daily Life
For some reason, April has become Deadline Month. I’m not talking about filing an income tax return which, thankfully, my husband did in February. No, I’m talking about freelance projects, some scheduled and some unexpected but unavoidable, that have this week as their endpoint.
It all started in January, when the calendar was clear, and I accepted an all day speaking engagement on April 19. Things warmed up when the edits for my manuscript arrived for examination, along with an April 20 deadline. They escalated further when the contract for the sixty kids devotions arrived. They aren’t due until the end of June, but to meet that deadline, I had to start writing one per work day in mid-March. All that was doable, and I even found time to accept a couple paying magazine assignments with mid-April deadlines.
But then, Mom’s house sold within twenty-four hours of being put on the market in March, with a closing date of April 10. Things were a little hairy, but the timeline was doable because my siblings promised to help with the remaining work at Mom’s house the first weekend in April. But a snowstorm, which dumped seven inches of snow on our town that very weekend, forced them to cancel.
At that point, things got crazy, but somehow, Hiram and I had the house ready in time. And I’m on track to meet the writing deadlines, too. Granted, I haven’t taken my blood pressure lately, and don’t plan to until next week, after the deadlines are successfully met. Then I’ll relax for a few minutes and dig into the pile of on-hold projects, if I can figure out where I was at a month and a half ago when I set them aside, and start all over again.
Good thing I love freelance work.
