How to weed eat for the first time when you're 41

Since the "How to fly for the first time when you're 40" post was so wildly successful {read my mom and two friends loved it} I thought I would add another installment to the "first time" series.

He lived across the street, and he was in high school. He was a senior in high school, but that didn't stop me from having a crush on him. 

Never mind that I was in first grade. 

I remember the day he was weed eating and something happened. He got slashed right across his chest. I was devastated. 

I guess you probably shouldn't weed eat with no shirt on.

And I'm not sure exactly how it happened. All I can figure is that they have made improvements in weed eaters in the last thirty years?

I think this was formative, though, in my slight fear of weed eaters.

I didn't give them much thought until I moved in with my stepmom and dad. My stepmom loved doing yard work.

I didn't really understand that. She said it was a job she could actually finish and get satisfaction from a completed job.

I didn't understand this either.

It would take me having children before I knew what she meant.

You know, they are finished eating dinner before you are done cooking it, dirtying clothes as you put away the clean ones, making a mess in the room you just cleaned while you clean the next one, and pretty much undoing everything you just did. 

Then I got it.  

A job completed. All at once. That stayed completed for awhile.

Ah. Gotcha.

So I always wanted to do yard work. I wanted to be like my stepmom in that. 

But my kind husband said that was his job. 

In the eighteen years we've been married, I think I have cut the grass twice. But it may be only once.

He just likes to do that for me. And how do you complain about that?

We had a yard service when the kids were young. I didn't care that it cost money; I needed my husband inside on the weekends helping me stay sane. There was this one day where the four year old and the two year old stood at the door crying with their snotty noses pressed against the glass watching him mow the grass while I bounced a crying newborn (I have a picture somewhere of this scenario but those days are sort of a blur, and I'm not sure I could locate it) and the very next day I called a nice man who came and did all the yard work during the week like magic and then the daddy held the baby on the weekends and entertained the other two while I tried desperately to find my brain. 

Then when the kids got older I decided to cancel the yard service because people were bigger now and wouldn't cry at the door. They could maybe even HELP THE YARD DADDY.

And all was well.

Fast forward to this month. It has been a hard, long month for my poor husband. He has worked so much and had so much going on. As I sat on the patio one morning doing Bible study, my eyes slid over to the weeks that had snuck up slightly higher than normal with all the rain and I thought, "Gosh, I hate to ask him about the yard." He hasn't even had time to be in the backyard, much less notice that the weeds were high. 

I casually asked him early in the week if he thought he would get to it any time soon and he sadly said, "It'll be Saturday morning." 

"No big deal!" I answered. See, I had thought of a plan. 

I texted my neighbor/dearloyalfriend and asked her to help me learn how to weed eat. She, who loves an adventure, and me, said she would. We set a time, and I met her in the back yard holding the weed eater. 

I was a little nervous.

I have a habit of falling down. And dropping stuff. And tripping over stuff. And being a klutz in general. And when it comes to yard work, I have proved less than stellar at it already.  

I think I went through three extension cords the first time I trimmed the bushes. 

It was a surprise for the hubs.

Yep. He was real surprised to find out we had to buy three new extension cords.

Those things are expensive, dangit.

Anyway, with visions of cut extension cords dancing in my head, along with lost toes and a flying rock putting my eye out, I was as ready as I ever would be. I had on jeans and close-toed shoes. I was properly outfitted and ready to take on the world.

Or at least the weeds.

Karen and I investigated the weed eater, got a plan, and I cranked her up.

Actually it's electric so I just pushed the handle.

It roared to life and I was a bit trepidatious. 

Karen may have even laughed. 

And she may have said out loud, "I wish I had a camera!"

Well, me being me, I whipped my phone out of my back pocket and then this happened:

You can tell she was surprised. 

She said I looked really scared. I agree with her.  

Then this happened. 

And then it just became like a party.

I learned as I went. And here's what I discovered:

• you have lots of time to think while you're doing yard work 
• you get really dirty when you're doing yard work
• edging is really harder than it looks {straight lines, anyone?}
• yard work is harder than it looks
• i hope i said "thank you" every time the husband got done with the yard work
• your back and arms get pretty tired. 
• your arms feel like jelly for a period of time after {how long does this last?}

But I got used to this machine, this weed eating machine, and once I figured out that I couldn't break it, and it wasn't going to eat me, I got aggressive with it and actually sort of had fun. I think I was even sad when I was all done. I even got out the blower that hubs had begged me to use every time he saw me with a broom in my hand, and I blew the heck out of those cut weeds too.

That was fun. Although there is an art to not blowing the weeds in a circle, right back to where you had just blown them from.

 I had to figure that out.

I knew better than to push my luck and actually mow something, since the day had been such a success. Hopefully this will be a surprise to the hubs when he goes outside to do yard work tomorrow, and I liked it enough to make it sort of "my" job. Maybe he'll mow still. But I might like that job too. {See, the kids can't come behind me and make the grass grow before I'm done. I see how this works. I do like it. A job completed all at once}

As soon as I got done, I heard another weed eater crank up in the neighborhood. I had to resist the urge to go find the operator and give them a fist bump. 

You know, from one expert weed eater to another.

***edited to add: Hubs looked at the picture on my phone when he got home that night and said, "That's not the weed eater. That's the edger. The weed eater is by the lawn mower." {It stands to reason I didn't see it there since I was AVOIDING THE LAWN MOWER.} Okay then. My friend said since it's whacks weeds, it's a weed eater. I tend to agree. So I weed eated with an edger. I still did it. But maybe this means I should leave the weed eating to the experts? Hm.....

Family Heirlooms

Our dining room table belonged to my aunt. The chairs that we use now are the ones that were in the house I grew up in. Mom gave them to me when we inherited the table. 

She had kept two of the chairs to refinish and use in her home, but she called me one day and told that I could come get the chairs since she had decided not to use them. 

When I got to Mom's house, she asked me to help her move some furniture to the garage for the Salvation Army to come pick up.

As we began moving the furniture, I noticed a chair in the corner. I asked her about it, and she reminded me that it was my great-grandmother's chair. Mom was sad to let it go, but just didn't have a place to put it. 

It took me back a bit.

My great-grandmother was Mary Louise. She had four children, including a set of fraternal twins, one of which was my grandmother, my mom's mother. 

She was an incredible lady. When my great-grandfather died suddenly, my great-grandmother was overcome with grief. They had such a sweet relationship. Throughout her life, most every time she spoke of him, she cried. She never stopped missing him. 

After he was gone, she decided she needed a new space in her home-a space that didn't remind her of him. 

She purposed a small corner of her bedroom as a television nook. She put a chair in the corner and an old black and white television on the dresser, and after a long day at work and an evening of puttering around the house, she would settle herself in her chair. She had a stock of magazines and books near by, but the television played on.

I imagine the noise comforted her. 

It was a family joke that we could usually find her napping in that chair later in her life. 

I stood in my mother's garage this day and decided I simply could not let that chair go to the Salvation Army.

My mom and I wrestling that chair into the back of my minivan already full of other salvaged goodies from her garage was a sitcom in and of itself. 

We laughed so much.

But we did it.

We have strong women in our family. 

Later I backed the van into my own garage and wrestled the chair out of the back of the van. 

It was covered in a blue slipcover that my great-grandmother had hand made meticulously. I felt badly about taking it off, but the treasure in the original fabirc that I found underneath made me terrifically happy. 

I rearranged what used to be the breakfast nook of our home that has since become the "office." 

I made my own reading corner. 

I found a handmade wooden what is probably a plant stand at my favorite thrift store for $5. 

It's perfect for my books.

I found a new rug at the same thrift store and soon it was a cozy little nook perfect for settling in with a stack of books. 

(This pic was taken before the table find.)

I try so hard to hold loosely to worldly possessions. I honestly don't care much about stuff, and most everything in our house I thrifted, received as a hand-me-down or bought right after we married out of necessity.

But it's things like this chair that I do love so dearly. I sit in it and hear the music of the springs singing and rub my hands on the slightly stained arm rests, and I just feel happy and close to my sweet great-grandmother. The desk that the computer is on was my great-grandfather's.

More heirlooms.  

Then there are other things, like...

My other great-grandmother's purse.

She kept it packed with tissue paper and in a plastic sleeve. In the purse is still a powder puff and when I picked it up, the powder got on my finger. Sweet reminder. 

My great-grandmother helped make the dress, along with my great great-grandmother, my grandmother, and I also, got married in. She also made this robe. 

I love the audacious flowers she embroidered. 

I found this matching gown in a vintage clothing store about 15 years ago. The gown is from the 50's.

They are packed away in my closet for now. 

My dad made this napkin holder when he was about my daughter's age. It's precious to me for several reasons. 

These are the things I hold dear. I want to hold them loosely, though.

 Truly, I do.

I think these thoughts are fresh in my mind and heart after helping a friend pack up her world to move across the sea. There were mementoes packed to help her when she's sad and/or lonely, and I was glad there were. 

I also found myself asking, "Could you leave most all of it behind?"

I don't think it's wrong to love these things that are dear to me. I would leave them behind if necessary. 

(I think. No, I would. I mean, wouldn't I? Oh yes. I would. Of course. All of them? Can I keep the napkin holder?)

Anyway...

For now, I'm absolutely thrilled with my little nook. I think of my sweet Mary Louise whenever I sit there, and I'm so thankful that Mom kept that chair in her basement until the day it could come live at my house.

Which is fine, except that...

This is a week in which we have been unable to start school before 10am.

Which is fine, except that then we do school past lunch time.

Which is fine, except that then I spend most of my day schooling.

Which is fine, except that when I do that, I don't have enough time to get things done.

Which is fine, except that the people in my house expect and need to have things done.

Which is fine, except that they don't always want to help to get those things done.

Which is fine, except that I need help to do for the people that created the work that I need to get done in the first place. 

Which is fine, except the reason I can't get done what I need to get done for the people who created the work for me to do in the first place is that that people that I'm schooling are the one preventing me from getting done what I need to get done.

It's no coincidence that as I read Amy Carmichael quoting an old Indian proverb yesterday, "Children tie the mother's feet" (and hands too?) my heart sang in agreement. 

But then Amy was powerfully struck by the image of Christ wrapping himself in a towel and stooping to wash the disciples' feet. The Savior did not view humble service as small or unimportant. So Amy Carmichael willingly let her 'feet be tied' for the love of Him whose feet were pierced. 

from "Trial and Triumph: Stories from Church History

So I will humbly spend the day schooling the children that God has entrusted to me. With a thankful and a grateful heart. With a spirit of Eucharisteo, which I am learning to live contentedly in the spirit of. And I'm thankful for this sweet reminder...

I'm Painting Again...

Good news and bad news:

Good news: It's only trim.

Bad news: There's a lot of freaking trim in this house.

Good news: I like painting trim.

Bad news: The paint fumes made me nauseous this go around.

Good news: There is absolutely no way that I am pregnant. So don't even think it.

Bad news: I have to get this done before we start school.

Good news: I only have to paint about an hour or so a day.

Bad news: At that rate, it will only take me 79 days to paint all the trim.

Good news: We aren't starting school the first of July, so I have more time to paint.

Bad news: I really wanted to start school the beginning of July.

Good news: When you paint your trim, suddenly your house looks 10 years newer.

Bad news: I will now have "Elegant White" speckled hands, hair, arms, legs and feet until this job is done.

Good news: I'm pretty good at painting trim.

Bad news: The last person that painted trim was not so good at it. Therefore, as my dad the real painter says, "You are actually only as good a painter as the last person that painted was." 

Good news: Unless someone who visits our house gets down on their knees to look and see how well the quarter round in the kitchen is painted, it should be an okay job.

Bad news: My house smells like paint. Again.

Good news: I don't have a 2 year old this time! Or was Zane 3? I don't remember. I blocked it all out.

Bad news: Now that the boys are 4 and 7, all I heard was, "Can I help? Can I help? Can I help now? Can I paint? Can I paint now?"

Good news: I can say "no" repeatedly in a kind manner until I finally crack and have to send people to their rooms.

Bad news: I am just now remembering that blogging while under the influence of paint fumes is a bad idea...

"Stop messing with my summer fun..."

This was the response I typed in response to my husband's request that I do some bookkeeping:

"Please stop messing with my summer fun by making me do work..."

That's kind of how I approach all vacations. I don't want to do anything at all. I don't want to cook, clean, do laundry, get up on time, go to bed on time, exercise, eat correctly, study the Bible, or do any sort of business dealings. I just want to play.

And then I end up feeling just gross.

So I'm trying to head it all off this year and act like some sort of real grown up. How do I do that? By a schedule, of course. Everything can be fixed with a list and/or a schedule.

Now I might want to interrupt and say this is one of those posts that's just for me, really. But if you're bored, feel free to keep reading...

So I'm here to say that I'm still going to get up at 5:30, unless I happen to align the planets and get to have some girlfriend time one night. And I may have to Tweet some super annoying early morning Tweets to keep myself accountable. I am still going to have my hour of exercise at 6:30, because dangit, if I can go out in the dead of winter when it's in the 20's, I can get out there in the summer. I'd much rather go when it's 20 degrees, though. And if I have any chance of being outside exercising in the summer, 6:30 is probably the only time I'll make it without dropping dead.

I'm also going to revisit Jillian Michael's "30 Day Shred." I love to hate her, and I'm going to stick that workout in for the late afternoon. Oddly enough my kids like to do it. They are weird little suckers. Anyway...

I am also going to schedule our family worship time for 9 am. It was easy to do it during school, because we just did it before we started school. But now with no school, I don't want to let that go. It's too important. And I don't want the kids to equate Bible study with school. So that is my plan there.

And if you want a good family worship plan, go here:

http://www.radicalexperiment.org/

Scroll down to where it says, "Family Worship." You'll be blessed, and your kids will learn. I promise.

I also am making a rule that for now, NO toys come down the stairs. I just cannot keep up with the mess, and I'm going to try and see if this is help some.

I'm also having to stick with some pretty strict media rules. Normally the kids can watch one show in the morning before school while I'm out exercising, and then the television goes off until it's time for me to cook dinner. The kids can't play video games until the weekend, and no computer time for Laney until the weekend either. Now that it's summer, I do want to relax those rules a little, but still keep them away from all that stuff. I'm trying to work that out.

I myself have some big projects to do before school starts back. Here they are:

• clean out the garage
  
• clean and beautify the back yard
• steam clean the carpets in the house
• purge my scrapbooking supplies and organize our school section
• transfer this blog over to Tumblr (*shiver* This one must be done, but scares me to death)
  

I also want to be disciplined about my housekeeping this summer too. Right now, it's a joke. Allen joked that he was about to fire the maid. (I think my cuteness was the only reason he said he was keeping me. He's forbidden from using that horrid "hott" word, on a completely unrelated note. I h.a.t.e. that word, just for the record...) And he was kidding, by the way, but honestly I can't remember a time where the house was this much of a mess. So what I'm proposing to myself (!) is that we stay at home until after lunch every day to give me time to deep clean this house. Then, hopefully, after school starts back, it will be easier to maintain. And I am going to be harder on the kids about keeping their stuff picked up.

The last thing I need to work on is letting go of my disappointments over last school year. I really didn't bust it like I have in other years. My kids learned, no doubt, thanks to God and my amazing curriculum. But I really struggled with the weight of home schooling this year. I don't think I realized how heavy that weight was until it was lifted. I know without a doubt that I am called to do this, and that Christ will enable me to do this job. I just think that I need to be harder on myself and push through when it's hard more than I did last year.

Or something like that. I also have to let that disappointment go. It's all good. They learned. I taught. We spent all day, every day together. God is good. :)

So there is my summer plan. Oddly enough, we'll start school back on July 6th, so we're only talking 5 weeks off. But that's okay. I think we'll all be ready to start back then *crossing fingers* I'm praying we are, anyway...

New laundry strategy

I really hated my old laundry method. I would do laundry all day on Monday, pile it up on our love seat, and there it would sit until I could have wine/laundry/movie night. I really did like wine/movie night, but when the return to school began to near, I knew I wasn't going to have time for all that. So I decided to try something new. Besides, I hated looking at all that laundry until it could get folded. Worse yet, the boys would pretend it was a mountain and climb it, knocking stuff down and strewing it all over the living room. Quick way to make Mama go crazy.

I waited until the laundry was all piled good and high. Probably 2 weeks worth. Then, what I did was wash a load during the day. I'd hang up what I could and then dry the rest. Then, while the kids were in the bath, I'd take this one load upstairs, fold and put it away. It literally takes about 10 minutes to fold and put one load away. The kids are playing in the bath, so it's the perfect time.

I did this every day for about 10 days. And amazingly I caught up on the laundry. Once I was all caught up, I did a load every 2 days. The hamper was always empty, I always had bras to wear (the thing I run out of first. Wait, was that tmi? I doubt seriously that I have a single male reader of this blog. And isn't it common knowledge that all women wear bras? Oh well...) and I wasn't stuck to a pile of laundry for an hour or longer. That was the very best part.

Laney is old enough now too that I just stick her folded laundry on her hamper in her room. She puts it away. Jude can too, but I usually do his and Zane's myself. Some days, that's just easier. Soon they are all going to put their own stuff away. Man, I love big kids.

Anyway, a load a day. Whew. Little ways to make my life easier!

Not so extreme home makeover

So last summer, I set out to paint our house. The inside. I think I was maybe on temporary leave of my senses or something, but I got most of the painting done. I just had this one upstairs bathroom to finish. I knew I had to get it done before school started, or it wouldn't get done. I actually had to delay school a week, to get this done. I was determined.

I decided to do it the same sage green that I painted the living room. Mostly because I discovered that I am running out of colors that I would consider painting rooms in my house! I liked it, though, so green it was.

I had bought this sweet shower curtain at a garage sale last summer, and found some great shower curtain hangers to go with it, at the same garage sale. Then, at another garage sale, I found some amazing plates and some little tiny shelves that I knew would go in the bathroom too. I tucked them into a closet until I could get to the painting. I didn't know it was going to be a whole year, but anyway. I found a great rug on clearance at Target that completed the set, and I was ready to go.

So after 2 coats of primer and 2 1/2 coats of paint, the bathroom was done. I was so excited to get everything in there and see how it all looked. And then. Oh no. It didn't match. ARG!!!! WHAT?

The shower curtain was much more of a true sage, where as the walls were, oh I don't know. Behr called it "Sage Green" but I call it kind of a blueish sagey kinda green. I was just tired and irritated that it didn't work out the way I wanted it to.

So then my personal shopper/decorator and I went to WalMart and picked out this dark brown number. I wasn't sure about it, especially when we got a dark red rug to go with it. But after I got it in the bathroom, it all came together. It's fun, and I do like it.


It has this great detail on the top and bottom of it, and that's my favorite part. I have laughed at Zane so much, because he looks at it and says, "I don't like that." I say, "Why?" and he says, "Because it's brown." So not everyone is happy with it. Honestly, I am just glad it's done.



I was thinking how glad I was that we were done "updating" things, when, during a trip to Lowe's, we found light fixtures for our bathroom for 85% off. Really. So here we go again.

Then the kids decided that it was only fair for the boys to have the bigger room upstairs and let Laney have the smaller room that the boys have now. Simple, right? Um, nope. Laney's room is pink. We'll have to change ceiling fans and switch out closets too. I agree it needs to happen, but the thought of switching out those rooms makes me want to hyperventilate. So maybe when December rolls around and we get another break, we'll be up for another round of Extreme Home Makeover. Oh, I hope I'll be up for it.

Quite a Shock

It was Friday, May 15th. It had been a good day. We had run some errands, then gone to spend some amazing time with my sweet friends Hayes, Kathy and Jennifer and fetch Hayes' equally as sweet daughter, Lydia, who was going to spend the night for the first time with Laney. We were all excited.

We stopped by my mom's to pick up her dog, Bella. Mom needed for us to keep her for a week or two, while Mom did some work on her house that wasn't conducive to having a dog around. Laney was worried about Bella, since she gave a nip or two to Laney's toes when Laney was 2 and Bella was a rambunctious puppy. Despite that, we all loaded up the van and headed to Pelham.

The night was crazy, trying to keep Laney and Bella at a safe distance from each other, monitor the boys and Bella and try to convince Lydia that this wasn't a normal night at our house, and by the time the whole crew was fed, bathed and in the bed, I was exhausted. Happy, but worn slap out. I snuggled in the bed with Bella and was watching the news when it began to thunder. No big deal. Even Jerry Tracey barely mentioned the tiny thunder storm that was hardly a blip on the radar. The thunder was amazing, and I got up to check to see that all the kids were still asleep.Amazingly enough, they were. Truly amazing, had you heard this thunder. Back in the bed, I just couldn't fall asleep. I continued to flip through the channels on the television, and Allen called to say that he was on the way home from a private party he had played that night. I told him the weather was really bad our way, and he said he could see the storm from where he was, coming over Red Mountain. I told him to be careful and hung up. Still unable to doze off, I lay there, listening to the storm, when, at 10:38,

WHAM. The brightest light I have ever seen and the loudest sound I have ever heard in my life. I honestly thought a bomb had gone off. My whole body was tingling, and for a second or two, I really couldn't make sense out of what had just happened. All the power was out, and I fumbled shakily to the bathroom where, thank the Lord, I keep a flashlight plugged into the wall. I grabbed it out of the socket and flipped the light on. The beam of light was full of white smoke, and I really did panic then. My phone was on my chest when I was laying in the bed, and when I jumped up, in got buried in the covers. I was fumbling through the covers, praying out loud, looking for it. I found it, picked up Zane, and called 911. I went to wake up the other kids, the whole time trying so hard to be calm to the dispatch operator.

You know when you hear 911 calls on television? I've always wondered how some of the people sound so calm. I was not calm. My voice was shaking as badly as the rest of me. The operator keep yelling at me to get out of the house, but as I looked out my front door and saw the lightning, I was literally scared to go out the door. We all stood huddled in the door, waiting on someone to get there. I called Allen to tell him what happened, and when I heard his voice, I just fell apart. He tried his best to get me calmed down, and when I saw the lights of the fire truck, I did calm down. Help had arrived.

The fire men (and a fire lady) arrived, with their hatchets, and long story short, lightning struck a cable box close to us, and then traveled through our house via the phone lines/wiring. There was a small fire in our attic, from the wiring. Later we found our that our love seat was also smoldering, but never actually caught fire. It just blew off the phone box there, and there's a nice hole in the back of my sofa.

I will never, as long as I live, forget those 4 children, 3 mine and one I love as much, huddled on my sofa, tears streaming down their faces. We were all terrified. Finally, two hours later, we struggled back to bed. I had everybody in my bed, except Allen and Jude, who slept on the couch in our room. The power was out for hours, and I lay there forever, afraid to go back to sleep. When I woke, startled, hours later, I was still clutching the flashlight I had taken to bed with me.

I will also never forget those Pelham fire fighters. They were calm, reassuring, and just amazing. One of them called me early, early the next morning, literally apologizing for having to leave so quickly, since they had a horribly busy night with the damage the storm did to our city. He patiently went over the damage to our house, what they did to put out the fire, why they did what they did and asked me if I had any questions. I joked that I hoped that he could get a nap after such a busy night, and he said he had some stuff to do at his second job before he'd get a nap. It made me sad that he even needed a second job. Anyone who's benefited from the help of a fire fighter would agree they need to make more money than they do. No amount might be enough.

I started years ago praying for fire fighters and police men whenever hearing a siren. ( a friend of mine was in an accident coming to get me one night, and I heard those sirens, but didn't know they were coming for him. I wished I had already been praying for him, so since then, I have prayed every time I hear sirens.) Since we live very close to both a police station and a fire station, I hear those sirens all the time. And I NEVER tire of praying for those precious souls who risk their lives every time they go to work. After meeting them again (yes, again. you don't want to hear why they came here the first time...) I pray more fervently. Such precious, sweet people.

They also didn't even comment on my pj's-Allen's oldest, literally his most rattiest tee shirt you have ever seen. I was missing him, and it's a very sentimental tee shirt. But also 11 years old, and just this side of completely falling apart. I topped off the ensemble with my Mickey Mouse boxers. They are 18 years old, at least. Really. Oh my goodness. I had the good grace to be embarrassed the next day, and Allen and I had a good laugh about that.

We are still, even today, discovering things that the lightning fried. It's been stressful and a pain to deal with the insurance, the broken items, the hassle of it all. The hardest part for me is seeing how much STUFF we have. And how much I hate all this stuff. And realizing how much I've let all this stuff seep into my life, and become something I just can't live without.

It's been hard, and I've searched for what God would teach me through it. I've heard countless lightening stories. Everybody seems to have one, and we are one of the lucky ones. It could have so easily been very different. I am so thankful there.

I'm still struggling to make sense of this life that I've chosen. The stuff, the money we've spent on stuff, the money we continue to spend and the importance I place on said stuff. It's been a rough two weeks, and it's mostly me, trying to reconcile with God just how I got here.

My sweet friend Jenn reminded me that it's important too how closely we hold to this stuff. I don't hold closely to it at all. I'd give it all away tomorrow and move to Africa or where ever God called. He has reassured me that He knows that, and He'll call me when He's ready.

I'm trying really hard to be patient.

Weird day

It was supposed to be a simple door install. I knew we had termite damage, but had no idea it was this bad. It's going to be about a week before we get our door installed. At least it's in the garage, where I can look at it when ever I want to.

The firemen came to check the hydrant, and Laney got to "drive the truck." Jude refused to get in the truck or put on a hat. Sorry about that, Mr. Fireman. My kid is weird.

This whole day was weird. My front door looks weird. Termites are weird. I hate termites. Sorry, God. They are eating my house. :)

More painting done

The foyer and hallway are done. Now it's up the stairs.

The kids and Allen have been pondering the huge key. Allen calls it "the key to the city." (Pelham, I guess.) It was 90% off at Hobby Lobby, so it became the "perfect" thing for our foyer!

I'm really tired of painting, and today saw some things I missed in the dining room. And found paint splattered on my printer. It seems to be a never ending project.

Oh and a huge prayer request. I found some more termite damage on the wall where our front door is, so I'm trying not to worry about that. We need to find a deal on a new front door unit, so please pray for that too. I'm going to have Cook's here when they replace that door, just in case. I am SO ready to be done with major home repair!

Enough whining. I need to be saving that energy up for the trip up the stairs! At least I can call Daddy to help me with that... Reinforcements! :)

My cross wall

I love it!

Before and after

I didn't put the kids' pictures back up, because I want to do a cross wall there, like this one.

I am more than exhausted. It was such a hard room, but we really do love the color. It makes the room so warm and comfortable. It's not too dark, although it is much darker than these pictures make it out to be. It's elegant and practical. And all the smudges and marks are gone! We washed the curtains, vacuumed under the furniture and wiped everything down. It feels clean and pretty. I'm tired. Wait, did I already say that?

Now it's just the hall way, foyer and stairwell/landing. And all the trim. And touch ups. I'm tired.
:):):P

Office is done!

*ahem* Blogger is on crack this morning, and it's not cooperating with anything I'm trying to make it do. That's why the "after" picture is before the "before" picture. And other pictures aren't showing up at the bottom. Bad Blogger.





















So the office was next. It was, *finally*, an easy room to do. I see now why people think painting is fun. I just painted a whole easy room in one day. Allen was amazing and took care of the kids and then took them out for a long time. I just listened to old sermons of David Platt's, and he gave me such deep, troubling things to ponder on. It was such a great day. Very relaxing and productive.

I love actually starting a finishing a project. That's the thing around here. Nothing is ever done. I can clean, but there's always something else to clean. Not like the old days when you cleaned and then you were done for a week.

Anyway, the bamboo blind isn't exactly sun blocking like I had hoped, but I'm going to Lartigue it and put some sun blocking fabric on it. But not today. I'm having another one of those laundry problems this week!

We're doing the living room on Saturday. The room I've been dreading. Allen is going to do this one with me, and we'll just paint all day. I'm already praying about that one! lol...

For Jenn, my Muse

I do wish it was in Jenn's handwriting... I think you have to be born with that handwriting gene! But I like it, and it's done. You can't really see all the dooies and doodles. They're there.... And oh, the Lord is so very good....

Check that one off the list

Done. I like it. On to the office/breakfast nook. *sigh* Who said this was fun???? :)