My, oh, my! This post from February 16, 2009 was a reminder of how much has happened in the last two years. My mother’s house sold 4 hours after it was put up for in March of 2009, during the worst housing market in decades. Our son now has a pick up, a job, a wife, a dog, and a bright future. Our daughter has a husband and will graduate from college in a few short months. Instead of cleaning a house this February, my sister and her husband went to London and Paris. The spare room is now Hiram’s office, and I’m busy with book rewrites.
But some things remain the same. My scrapbooking keeps getting pre-empted, God is faithful, life will look much different in two more years,and pride is a continual struggle in my life.
Pride Cometh Before the Mess – Recycled
Last Saturday morning, I felt pretty proud of myself. The house was back to normal after all our December excitement, and all the treasures bequeathed by Mom were in place. My schedule for the coming week was much clearer than normal, so I anticipated a highly productive writing week.
I was so pleased with my organizational ability, I was probably insufferable. But only lasted until my sister arrived around noon, and we went to Mom’s house to sort through her things so we can put the house on the market. By Sunday evening, Hiram had hauled several loads of new treasures to our house and put them in the spare bedroom. I was too bummed to climb the stairs and face the mess. On Monday morning, my sister’s parting advice was, “Don’t even look at it for a week.”
Good advice and I stuck to it, at least until Anne called before noon with a case of the February college blues and a great desire to come home this weekend. But she’s stranded because she loaned her car to Allen until he found a job and could afford his own set of wheels. I can’t pick her up Friday because we have a meeting about Mom’s finances scheduled that afternoon. So I called my son, who now has a job and will have his own truck by the end of the week.
About three or ten phone calls later, everything was arranged for him to pick her up and bring her home, leave her car in Iowa, and ride home with a friend who will also spend the weekend with us. Anne will sleep in her bedroom, Allen said he’ll take the couch.
This means I can’t take my sister’s advice. I have to clean the mess by the end of the week. It also means I won’t be scrapbooking this weekend as I planned. But it also means that by next Monday the spare room will be clean, Anne will have a way to get home for spring break, and I won’t be quite so insufferable.
