by jphilo | Oct 28, 2013 | Daily Life
On Saturday, I was asked to prepare meals for small crowds over the next couple weekends. Fifteen minutes after saying yes, I had already assembled:
- current sale flyers for our local grocery stores
- menus consisting of enough food for a cast of thousands for two weeks
- shopping lists
- a time table for cooking and freezing everything ahead of time
That’s when I began wondering if I’d missed my true calling. Instead of majoring in elementary education and taking every English and theater class available during college, I should have considered a career in one of the following:
- food service
- event planning
- drill sergeant
- army cook
- making lists with bullet points
Upon further reflection, my unintentional second career may have been field testing other career options because:
- My first high school job consisted of 3 months at the Hy-Vee deli in my home town, followed by 5 years as a dishwasher and cook at a nursing home.
- My kids would tell you the 1 birthday/slumber party they were each allowed during their childhoods were top caliber events, even though the title “event planner” came into vogue after they were a bit older.
- They would also gladly give testimony concerning their mother, the drill sergeant.
- Dozens of M.A.S.H. episodes later, the army cook option no longer looks attractive unless it includes a few of Klinger’s outfits, complete with hats and gloves.
- Mission accomplished.
Maybe I didn’t miss my true calling.
Maybe it came calling and found me.
by jphilo | Oct 25, 2013 | Daily Life
A sneaky, snarky fall funk is doing its best to worm its way into my heart.
Maybe the cause is the conclusion of two fun trips in the past couple of months. No more looking forward to a visit with a high school bestie to see covered bridges near Grand Rapids, Michigan. No more presenting workshops at writers’ conferences where beginning writers think the information being passed on to them is the greatest thing since sliced bread. No more looking forward to visiting old friends out west where the deer and the antelope roam.
This week life is back to usual with clothes to wash, meals to cook, a house to clean, and writing to be done. I want to blame the funk on those mundane household tasks and the fear of the blank screen. When those excuses don’t work, I want to blame the time of year.
You know what I mean?
Less daylight.
Cold nights.
Funk bait for sure.
But in all honesty, those things aren’t the cause of this fall funk. I am the cause. Or to be more specific, a lack of contentment with life is the real cause.
People aren’t flocking to my blogs these days.
They aren’t flocking to by my books.
They aren’t flocking to like my Facebook author page.
Or Twitter.
Or Pinterest.
Or Google +.
In truth, box elder bugs are the only thing flocking anywhere near me. So many of them are flocking to the south side of our house that I sprayed the foundation with insecticide, and now the whole house stinks.
But I digress.
The fall funk, however, does not.
It’s perched on my shoulder.
Waiting for this crack of discontentment to break wide open.
So it can suck out my joy.
It could happen. It will happen, unless my eyes quit looking for the gifts and start seeking their Giver. Unless I consider the presence of the Giver of greater value than the presents He gives. Unless I trust His timing above my own and His wise provision over my foolish desires.
O Lord, grant me contentment in you today. Amen.
by jphilo | Oct 7, 2013 | Daily Life
Hi, my name is Jolene Philo, and I’m a plant hoarder.
Yesterday, when the man of steel and I were repotting outdoor plants, preparing them to winter over in the house, I finally realized the extent of the problem.
When we ran out of pots, were almost out of dirt, but had plenty of geraniums waiting for winter rescue, my husband looked at the porch full of the fruits of our labors and said, “We have enough plants, right?”
I started to twitch.
I pleaded, “Just one more, please?”
I whined.
I begged.
But the man of steel stood firm.
Because even though I believed we needed more,
we had enough.
Enough to winter through the winter.
Enough to harvest plenty of slips for rerooting in the spring.
Enough to use all the rain water I’m hoarding I’ve wisely stored in the basement.
That’s what my rational brain whispered,
while my hoarder brain screamed,
“THERE IS NEVER ENOUGH!
YOU NEED MORE,
MORE,
MORE!”
And that’s when I knew I needed help.
That’s why I’m at this meeting.
In a dark church basement with only one window.
With one geranium sitting on the window sill.
Would you excuse me for a moment while I break off a slip for rerooting?
Just one.
I promise.
Just one.
by jphilo | Aug 9, 2013 | Daily Life
The ground shook along our gravel road today when two talented tree guys felled the giant sugar maple just north of our house. We suspected the limb hanging right above Anne’s old bedroom was hollow after another limb from that side of the tree fell in a windstorm some years back.
We were right.
The limb was hollow. Dangerously hollow. Hollow enough to assure me that the please-God-don’t-let-the-limb-fall-on-our house prayers when stiff winds blew from the north were warranted. Naturally, we thought the trunk would be hollow, too, like three other sugar maples we’ve had removed over our years on this gravel road.
We were wrong.
Other than the one bad limb over the house, every limb, every branch, and the 3 1/3 foot in diameter truck were solid through and through. So solid the man of steel could stand on the stump,
and walk the entire length of the trunk,
which was massive,
as is the amount of wood now laying in our yard.
If you need firewood, come and get it!
by jphilo | Jun 28, 2013 | Daily Life
Our shady neighborhood has been invaded by summertime’s unholy trinity: mosquitos, gnats, and deer flies. The invasion makes my morning walks a challenge and weeding the flowerbeds painful. If it wasn’t for a tip we learned when gnats crashed our daughter’s outdoor wedding reception 3 years ago, I would be a prisoner in my own home.
So what’s the tip? Absorbine Junior.
Skeptical? So was I at first. But a little Absorbine Junior dabbed behind the ears, across the forehead, under the chin and across the back of the neck kept the nasty, naughty, gnatty wedding crashers away for a couple hours.
Still skeptical? Check out this story about Absorbine Jr.
The stinky stuff may have started as a horse liniment that graduated to human liniment. But that’s only one of it’s charms. I apply it to face, legs and arms every morning, and I feel like Moses parting the Gnat Sea during my morning walks. It’s not quite as effective when standing knee deep in weeds in a flowerbed, even when you’ve dabbed your shirty silly with the stuff, but it helps.
Don’t ask how I know this.
As you can imagine, muscle aches are a thing of the past, too. Of course, my aroma these days is akin to senior citizens on parade. But who cares? I’m going to be a senior citizen in a few years, and this is good practice. With a little cultivation, Hiram may think Eau de Absorbine’s kinda sexy.
Absorbine Junior. Don’t leave home without it.
by jphilo | Jun 24, 2013 | Daily Life
Photo Source
Contrary to the lyrics of the Andy Williams song, I do not consider Christmas the most wonderful time of the year. For me, the most wonderful time of the year was last Saturday, when a new Day Runner calendar refill arrived in the mail.
I could hardly wait to open the package, tear off the shrink wrap, and riffle through the stack of perfectly cut paper. They were all there: 365 individual planner pages, the 2013–2016 at-a-glance calendar, and 12 two-page monthly tabbed calendars.
My hands held the promise of the ability to organize an entire year’s worth of endless possibilities into bite-sized, manageable pieces. Not that every possibility will come to fruition. But the presence of the Day Planner refill means that not all of them will be forgotten or brushed aside. Some of them will come to fruition.
The Day Planner also feeds my obsessive-compulsive tendencies, curbs irritability, and reduces twitchiness out in public. Which makes its arrival not only the most wonderful time of the year for me, but also for my husband. That makes it a bargain at any price.
But enough about my most wonderful time of the year. What makes you happy? Leave a comment.
