The fifty yards of tulle has left the building.

A young dancer friend, a budding choreographer, was promised access to a professional company's costume shop and then in the eleventh hour that was changed and he was left with a lovely piece of choreography and no costumes. Two tulle skirts and some dyeing of leotards and tights later, I am grateful I had the chance to be of help. It was fun to play with the fluffy stuff, but I need to get back on the track of Spring Cleaning. I am grateful to be done, as well.

The boys have been pretty good about keeping their rooms in good shape. That was where the cleaning began. The younger is a minimalist and so that takes him very little time. The oldest reminds me of....well, me at that age and if I look at it in that context, his room is awesome. It still may teeter precariously on the fire code's desire for clear exits, but it's not bad, I guess.

We are coming to the realization that the oldest will most likely be leaving us in the fall. He is definitely leaving for part of the summer, but it looks like he may have a chance at a boarding situation to pursue his dream. We are focusing on getting him prepared to be a little more responsible and able to feed himself, make healthy decisions, maintain clothing and necessities.

He's also earned a learner's permit for driving and we are dealing with that. I am grateful my husband has taken that teaching hat for the beginning portion. I'm sure I would be able to do it, but I'm a bit more reactive and emotional. And...nervous. Yes, I admit, I am a Nervous Nellie. Once he gets going I will be fine (relatively) in the passenger's seat, but it's better I don't sit there for a while.

Random occurrences, thoughts and observances:

I scored some drapes for the dining room at my favorite thrift store!!

I've had a lot more scrutiny than usual on the homeschool aspect of our lives.

I have a lot of stuff...Moving has always been good for getting rid of stuff, it's just that we stayed in the last place nearly ten years. So, I'm wondering if I can get rid of some more stuff without moving to help...I guess that means I'm pondering a garage sale...sigh...

Many thoughts about what "acting one's age" means to me. As I near the half-century mark I'm looking forward and backwards quite a bit. Asking myself how the road led here and where does it turn over the next hill.

It smells like Spring outside.

Counting it all joy,

Julie

The Dementor

I have met the dementor and I know his name.

It is Asthma.

His friends are known as Fear, Panic and Anxiety. Too bad this is not Hogwarts, there is no Patronus charm and all the chocolate in the world will not make it go away.

We are dealing with asthma at my house. Both of my boys were diagnosed with "exercise induced asthma" in early March. My oldest seems to be dealing with it quite well. My younger however...not so much.

When the asthma journey began with the "exercise induced" label, I thought, "Okay. Not great, but we can deal with this. We can work around it."

It seems everyone has heard of Olympic athletes with asthma. In fact somewhere between 10-20% of Olympic athletes apparently have asthma. Well who doesn't want to be compared to an Olympic athlete?? We could DO this.

As I said, my oldest set off, Albuterol in hand and his breathing during dancing improved. But the youngest...well, it seemed to work for a short time. And then the coughing and the poor coloring returned; sometimes while dancing, sometimes just randomly.

He's been through allergy testing, pulmonary function testing, doctors' visits and even an emergency room visit. At one point he had ten medications going into his small body. I've held him as he's struggled to breathe. He's cried (which seems to exacerbate the situation, but he can't stop) because his chest hurts so badly.

We've been up at all hours, missed anticipated events, struggled with bedtime, struggled with leaving the house, going back to ballet, and worst of all for me--struggled with attending church.

The learning curve for this mommy has been steep. Everyone thinks they know something about asthma--many think it is just about allergies. And sometimes for some people it is. I've had a health care professional (who we know personally) insist it is all "in his head." Really???? That was meant to be helpful?

What I have learned is that asthma is a disease. It may appear to "go away" for awhile, but it is always there lurking. Symptoms are treated, not cured, although there are some things that appear to help improve breathing and stretch out the time between episodes. Some parents have told me that at a certain age their child "outgrew" it. Although I have a friend in his 60s who never did.

Each parent I've talked to (and it's amazing how many are there that I've known for a long time but never knew their child dealt with asthma), read their blogs, or heard anecdotal stories from a "friend of a friend"--each story is different. Triggers are different, flares last different amounts of time, medications are different, intensity is different, timing is different. I'm sure there are a lot of people with similar stories, I just keep running into people with different stories.

We are piecing things together slowly for Boo. What is going to work for him. What is going to get him back to "normal." Whatever normal is. He's been very frustrated because he's been unable to participate in some things that he really wants to because of his asthma. He is working toward "ownership" of his condition and knowledge that will make him more independent.

I am trying to balance my "hovering" personality (I've often been accused of being overprotective) and being too laissez-faire with him. EVERYONE has an opinion of how I should be parenting Boo and what health care choices I should be making for him. So far, only a handful of people are okay with my choices. My doctors seem to be okay with them, so I will go with that.

As we sat together during a particularly bad time, nebulizer going, me holding on to him, wishing it was me and not him, the Harry Potter-dementor image came to me--hence the title. If you are a Harry fan and know about the dementors this video will mean something to you. Sorry I can't put in in the post, maybe it's better I couldn't--it's intense and if you don't allow Harry Potter, please don't watch. As I watched it today, it chilled me.

Sometimes it does seem there won't ever be joy again. But better than charms and chocolate, we have a Savior, who has felt every one of our pains before we did. He will get Boo through this, me through this, our family will come out on the other side. While it would be nice to have a quick fix, my faith tells me God knows best and He will not abandon us.

There have been some awful times in this little family's history. I've cried out to God many times, "Why?!" Often it is not until years later; five, ten, twenty years later that I can see a reason. So we stand in faith until that time.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28

Trying to count it all joy,

Julie

Laryngitis of the Blog

I lost my voice for a while.

No, I didn't really have laryngitis. At least not the vocal kind (although, perhaps my children wouldn't have minded a bit). I've experienced what some might call "writer's block" but it was that and more. It spilled over into a lot of daily living. The outcome was that I've not been visibly "around" much here. In all honesty, I have been on FaceBook and Twitter, but those are so different. They can consume a lot of time--but they are different.

A couple things happened. Around October I was continually getting a sense that the LORD was telling me that I needed to take a break from my blog. Really? I didn't want to hear that. And I didn't want to announce I was taking a break, because I kept thinking I would "get better" and/or I wouldn't really be able to take a break after saying I was.

One problem with naming your blog "Joyful Days" is that there is a perceived (and maybe only by me) notion that my post should/will be positive. Naming my blog "Joyful Days" however was a challenge to myself. I wanted to start finding "joy in all things" I wanted to see joy in the tiny blessings as well as in the huge miracles. I still believe joy is a choice. I've seen what happens to people who choose to be the antithesis of joy--grouchy, depressed, angry, obstinate...in a word--me.

I've been hesitant to talk about my health issues--certainly not large and devastating, more of the chronic and persistent type...just annoying really, and in the grand scheme of things, very manageable. I didn't want to talk about them much because I didn't want my blog to go that direction even though those things are very much a part of who I am. I didn't want to define myself that way then.

But I have found joy is easier when you are addressing your health issues. My diagnosis of hypothyroidism was a blessing. Depression comes in many forms. I was experiencing sometimes debilitating depression--the depression that took all the energy I had to get out of bed. That kind and other depressions that are caused by chemical imbalances are not depressions that involve choice. But after my blanket of gauze was lifted I saw patterns I had allowed to creep into my life..."Poor me, life is unfair, people are mean..." Well those things are true sometimes, but the better choice is to see the "blessed me." I know I don't deserve all of the blessings I have and I've seen most often people are so kind.

Pre-diabetes has become part of my vocabulary. And when it did I finally chose to lose weight however I could get it off without surgery or medication (other than my thyroid medication, I guess). I've been hesitant to talk about my weight loss, but last year I lost 50 lbs. I've been worried lest I say anything and every last ounce will jump back on my body. My choice of diets has been debated in "real life" and while it is a choice due to my health issues, most people don't like the idea. My choice of exercise has taken a few hits too. Those two things combined with a few others molded my health choices last year. In all likelihood, now that I am a little more comfortable with them, I can share a little more.

My blog found some new readership and I had to decide how much personal information I can allow out here--both my personal "stuff" and my children's and the stuff that belongs to others in my life. I've been hesitant to talk about anything controversial or potentially offending.

Apparently I can be controversial and offending without intending to.

I've been hesitant to post about the reality of my days lest I sound like I'm boasting or worse whining--that "joyful days" thing again.

So, what have I been up to?

Exercise and diet. The road to "healthy" has helped me choose joy.

I found myself slipping a lot in my witness. Asking myself the "What Would Jesus Do?" question more often; asking myself if my action is "Christian" helps in finding joy--it is oftentimes inconvenient and takes a little extra thought--but the reality is liberating.

One more joyful thing is that I've been sleeping more. Part of my research shows that as you age you should get a certain amount of sleep. For quite a few years I worked overnights and still came home to school the boys during the day. That kind of lifestyle catches up with one sooner or later. So four or five nights a week I am in bed before eleven, which for me is huge.

I've pushed my children in ways I said I would not. I've allowed my children things I thought I wouldn't--still surprised when I realize how culturally deficient we are--why do I feel the need to apologize for that?

Driving lots of driving

Sitting and waiting.

Knitting

School--although I daily feel inadequate, and humbled by the children God has given me.

Trying to keep clothes clean and food on the table.

Facebook, Farmville, Farm Town, and Twitter.

Hopefully hitting "Publish Post" will help me blog again. I miss my blog. I miss my bloggy friends. Maybe I can get back on track...

Count it all joy,

Julie

Notes from the Sofa--Thank God for Sticky Shoes

Finished up Week 8 of our homeschool adventure this school year.

Week 8 was not the high point of this adventure.

I'm just saying.

Let's be real. Some days just aren't bouncy, happy, everything-is-fine days. Some weeks are better than others.

This last one wasn't.

In my quest to be a good (homeschool/ballet/music/fun/gamer) mom, I try to share the victories with my friends and family. Victories are fun. I would hate to scare someone off who is considering homeschooling. It is a wonderful experience. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

So if you are new to this blog, considering homeschooling, why don't you go visit some of the wonderful blogs listed on my sidebar? Many are homeschoolers, and if they're not, they are lovely people who will share wonderful cheerful thoughts about life and you will feel great about reading their posts.

What? You're still here...okay...warned.

But there are moments. Moments when I would like to push "Reset" for. So this post will be honest, transparent and offer full disclosure--okay, maybe not full, but partial disclosure...weeellllll maybe just enough disclosure that a couple people might read this blog again. What I am saying is that I will more transparent than the current administration--not hard. Yes, I'm in a mood.

Week 8 started off alright. The boys actually did some work in the car because we were traveling home on Labor Day. Boo wanted to know why he had to labor on Labor Day. I offered to let him off the hook and do it all on Tuesday, and, just wondering, what better was he going to do on a four hour car ride, anyway? He chose my way...good boy.

Boo is reading Finding Out About Everyday Things--an older Usborne book. It is more about the way thing used to work, but I think that helps to know how things have been and shows the advances in technology. He also finished Henry Huggins and is reading Elmer and the Dragon, the second book in the My Father's Dragon series by Ruth Stiles Gannett. He's enjoying it and it would be a great read for other readers from third to sixth grade.

Roo and I had an hour long discussion of slavery and the Civil War during that ride. Poor child was a captive audience. I usually don't go into lecture mode. But it was just something I was passionate about. He still loves me and promises to listen in the future.

Tuesday saw a pretty productive day, Roo had a three hour rehearsal thrown in at the end. Getting home after 8:30 was kind of a bummer for both of us. But all in all, it was a good day.

Wednesday included reading, as always. Roo is working his way through The Way Things Work. I was fortunate enough to pick up our copy at The Half Price Book Store for $1!! Roo has enjoyed the section on levers and has increased my knowledge by sharing all he has learned about levers. Fascinating stuff!! I love all these pieces of knowledge that they are thrilled about and want to share.

But Wednesday is where the slope started getting slippery. Boo woke up saying he felt bad and could he just sleep? I wish I could tell you my motherly instinct saw his discomfort and that I cossetted him and pampered him. But...she says hanging her head in shame...I cajoled him and tried to get him to pony up and do some work. No, I did not check his temperature...no, I did not do any of the good momma stuff I should have. Until later when I realized he had a fever. Ugh...now we both felt bad--he felt sick and I felt like a toad.

Wednesday was also the most miserable night the four and a half hour night at ballet for Roo--the first official night of the ballet school year. And Roo had no intention of missing that. In fact Boo thought he could make it to that. Hello?? Temperature?? Chills?? I may have been dense for a while, but once I catch on, I know what the right answer is.

Thankfully my hubby works from home and Boo was by then positioned on the sofa with an I Love Lucy episode and pillow and blanket. So Roo and I hauled down the road to ballet with our carpool kids. Where he worked hard and I sat and stewed about what a terrible parent I am.

We got home after 9:30. Ugh.

Thursday was an independent work day for Roo, because Boo and I sat for two hours in the doctors office for less than five minutes of face time so the doctor could confirm the diagnosis I was already convinced of--Strep.

Then it was a race home to drop Boo off with Daddy and Roo so I could run to the pharmacy (the wait for filled Rx's was over an hour). I dropped the prescription off, ran home ate lunch between 2:35 and 2:40, put make-up on (because I had not had a chance earlier) made the most excellent cup of coffee I have made in a long time, drank half of it...and proceeded to baptize the table (with all Roo's school work), the floor (the dog won't lick up coffee-drat), my favorite pair of shoes, my shirt, a calculator and a fabric pencil case with the rest.

My favorite shoes. It was almost too much. I went sticky-sticky-sticky all the way from the parking lot to the pharmacy counter and sticky-sticky-sticky all the way back. My husband tried to clean them up for me...but all night, I kept smelling Eau de café--wait--that was me.

Boo had another night at home, much to his dismay. Roo and I rushed to pick up the girls and made it to the studio on time. I got to sit with my favorite group of moms and another mom joined us. I've always enjoyed talking to her. She's another homeschooler, but her child is older and in advanced levels. She's got a lot of good insights, she's witty, smart and open. She chose to ask me, "If you sent your child to a public school and they got a bad education, you could always blame their teachers. Aren't you ever afraid that some day they're going to decide you missed something--and it will be all your fault?"

Gulp...

Well...honestly, yes, but today I still feel like a toad and I don't want to think about THAT! Yikes!

Truly, I enjoyed her company and hope we can talk again. Just maybe when I'm not feeling warty and all. Ya know?

Today, Boo is bouncing around the house. Much improved. Medicine-a-phobic that I am, I know that sometimes a good antibiotic is the only answer. I am grateful for both my boys who love me despite my warts. My husband who for some unknown reason still loves me and is home most days, and all the blessings we have.

Today, I am grateful that I started school early because if this had been my first week of getting back to school with the boys I would have melted into a pile of goo.

Today I am grateful for doctors.

Today, I am grateful I got to half half of the best cup of coffee I've made in a long time...it was better than none at all.

Heavenly Father, I thank you for sticky shoes and cluttered houses and unfinished work. I thank you for people who aren't afraid to admit to having weaknesses and help me to admit I'm not perfect either.

God of spilled coffee, red lights, long car rides, infections, old cats, hairy dogs, sunshine and rain, rushing and rest, LORD of unfathomable heaven and messy, dirty earth, I thank you for this week. I thank you for my family and friends, I thank you for holding us up when we are tired and holding our children when they are sick and their parents are slow to catch on.

Help me keep my focus on you. Help me to see my little inconveniences for just that and to laugh at the bumps in the road. Make me stronger for the truly difficult times and always let me feel Your Presence. Amen.

Counting it all joy,

Julie

Above sofa found here.

midwest squall

high level thunder rumbles. mirrors reality on the ground. will it storm soon or be delayed? it is inevitable. the wait is is the hardest.

planting flowers in the thunder and rain was good therapy...

so grateful for the prayers. i am certainly blessed by friends.

BOOK GIVEAWAY...and mice update...and stuff

You still have about 24 hours to enter the book giveaway.

Christian fiction. Suspense thriller. Legalese thrown in. Some nice romance.

Check it out. Leave me a comment on the review post if you want to be entered.

Oh...and the mice...arent' swimming in the dog's water bowl anymore. They've quieted down.

Mostly.

I am not jumping and screaming (go ahead--laugh at me) as much when the toast pops up from the toaster.

And my husband was amazed I would blog about mice. After 16 1/2 years you'd think he would know me better.

But he did come to my rescue when I fell down the stairs this morning. With a full cup of coffee in hand. That I was bringing to him. And the old cat's food dish in the other hand.

Eau de Café au lait. My new perfume and also the color of my walls.

I'm not making this up, people.

Register to win the book when you're done snickering.

Still Lost...

The gloves, that is. I've also realized we are missing a t-shirt. Not just any t-shirt, but a special shirt for Roo. Frustrating.

The boys did well for their first day "back" to school. We chose to keep Boo home from ballet, though, due to some lingering sinus issues. I think it was a good choice. He looks much better this morning. He improved immensely when he found out that being sick would not earn him video games and the reading was going to be done sooner or later.

Got halfway through the kitchen yesterday. Not as far as I'd hoped, but I found the table and some shelving space.

Last night the Daddy and the boys and I played Last Word.



We laughed so much. This is a fun, free-for-all type game that suits our personalities. I highly recommend it. Children need to be old enough to read and have an awareness of different situations. Boo held his own with much style and humor. I'm living with a young Robin Williams, I'm afraid. He's quite brilliant with improv. Sometimes this is good...sometimes...ummmmmm...not so much.

What did you do yesterday?

Prayer Request

The boys and I are on the road. My husband is at home. Four hours from here. Our vehicle broke down about an hour from where we are staying.

If you have a spare prayer could you offer it up for us for the repairs to be minimal, honesty from the mechanics and that the repairs be made in an expedient way.

Compared to what other people are going through, this is one of those teeny, tiny, very little, very annoying setbacks. But I am just a little overwhelmed. Everyone is being very kind and thoughtful, I just wanted to be headed home tomorrow morning. Whine, whine, whine...but I'm still asking.

But as I see it, my situation could have been so much worse. And the tow-truck driver was very nice and helpful. Small mercies.

Hopefully I will be blogging from home soon.

Thanks,

Julie

Standing Firm/Staying Put (Part Three)

Part One & Part Two

Since the moment I stepped into this duplex I have been trying to figure how to move out again.

But we've decided not to move.

In this home for almost five years God has drawn us back to Him. He has shown us what and who (and WHO) is most important. He has given us opportunities to repair a lot of damage we created. We have gone from in debt over our eyeballs to most likely being debt free by the end of the year. How’s that for a Christmas present?

He has given our sons some stability even when circumstances were less than desirable. He has allowed us opportunities for our sons to find and expand their talents. He has allowed us to homeschool—something we’ve not wanted to compromise on.

In this home we have seen joy, even in the worst of times.

In this home we have learned about contentment.

And I think we (I) have a few more lessons to learn.

*********************************

Since the moment I stepped into this duplex I have been trying to figure how to move out again.

But I am not.

And I am okay with it. At least most of the time. We are pretty sure we will move. We have a target city, although since I’ve opened my mind about staying, I’ve opened up about the location of our future.

This place is where we are going to stay a while longer for a few reasons:

First, while I dislike the neighborhood, it could be worse. It is a known evil.

Second our landlord is easy to get along with. While she’s not great about making this place a palace, she minds her own business and not ours.

Third, the rent is cheap. It would cost us double to rent elsewhere for about five hundred more square feet.

Other thoughts are: it is within walking distance of a bus line, grocery store, library, pharmacy, our insurance agent, gas stations and some doctors’ offices. When you share a wall, either in a duplex, townhome, apartment, whatever, you take chances with the neighbors. We sit out with ours quite often and chat. So again, it could be worse.

We have decided to make this place comfortable. The money that we would have spent moving (deposits, utility changes, etc.) we are going to use for some much needed storage solutions. We are going to save for new appliances. Hopefully the ones we have will last the rest of our time here. We could buy them if we had to, but moving appliances is hard on them and hard on us—I am really getting older!! The last move about wiped me out. I fell down a tiny flight of steps and took three weeks to get over it. And still had to move in the meantime.

We decided to paint if it will make me happier. And you know color does help moods. I’ve taken a good look at what it would involve to paint and maybe it would be a good idea—not easy, but a good idea.

I’ve been reading a lot about people decluttering and minimizing. I never thought I could do that. I’m a packrat, I mean crafter. I love books, I love stuff. But if I don’t get rid of some of this I will have to move it when the time comes. I’ve decided to quit buying things that I don’t need right now. Except books. I mean I am going to quit buying things.

We didn’t come to this decision lightly. Since making it, there have been many incidents that have caused us to rethink our choice. We feel like we are being tested.

But I’ve seen what it looks like when GOD wants you to move. You can try to thumb your nose at Him, but if you allow Him to work it seems to go much easier and the rewards...well they are of God's choosing. I'm finally to the point I'd rather have God's good choices for me than my poor picks.

So for now…We are staying put, standing firm.

*********************************

Coach Jenny wrote a wonderful post that mirrored my thoughts and blessed me to read. I encourage you to check it out!

Standing Firm/Staying Put (Part Two)

Part One

Yesterday I started to tell you about why I am not moving even though I really want to. Even though I am watching other people move and I think it is exciting.

The story starts not almost five years ago when we moved in here, but almost sixteen years ago when we got married.

************************************

When we got married we were not in a good financial position. We tried to avoid our obligations. We lived four miles south of this house. We both had jobs at least 45 minutes from home. We had one car.

Young, newly married, I am embarrassed to admit, very irresponsible, living like two adult children we made a really big mess of things.

And then we ran away.

After three years of marriage we packed up and ran to another state to live near my parents. We both took extremely low paying jobs, but, hey—could it be any worse than the cost of living where we were?

We were about to find out.

One of my major irresponsibilities was a beautiful Morgan show horse, Beau. I was working 40 hours a week in the ophthalmologists’ office to pay the regular bills and at least that many hours at the horse barn where I kept him to pay for his upkeep. It was not a good recipe for a stable marriage. A marriage spent in a stable, maybe, but…yeah it was a bad pun.

Anyway…we ran, horse in tow. And we landed for two months (November and December) in a cardboard box shack clapboard house straight out of Little House on the Prairie. I kid you not. I was really stupid and didn’t take photos. But it was built before the turn of the century. The walls were lathe and plaster and about two inches thick, maybe two inches. We only paid $50 a month for it. It had no furnace. My father bought/loaned us a portable furnace that sat in the dining room. Did I mention--November and December?

Housing improved a little after that we lived in three different farm houses in less than three years. For a short time we lived in what was my favorite place. (The big white farmhouse.)

Then we moved nine hours away, bought a house we never should have, only to manage to sell it days before it was foreclosed on. (The ranch--loved the house, just had no business buying it.)

Then with the boys we moved back and lived with my parents for three impossibly long months and then moved into a tiny (about 900 square foot) duplex--the four of us.

Then because of a job situation, we moved here. I didn’t want to leave where we were. I threw one several of my impressive fits. Still, my husband came, interviewed, got the job and looked for a place for us to live. He found this place and rented it. Because of finances I never got a chance to see it until we pulled up with the moving van.

Here we were--spiritual baggage in tow, debts in hand, worse off financially than when we ran away in the beginning.

About four miles away from the place we ran away from.

I could hear God say, “Here is your second chance. Do it right this time.”

************************************
Promise I'll finish tomorrow!

Julie
Standing Firm/Staying Put: Part One

Standing Firm/Staying Put (Part One)

My friend Jenny--Coach Jenny--is moving. I am so very thrilled for her. I have read her blog and watched everything that has happened in her life to get her family to the point of moving. God opened doors and windows, told them to be patient, and boy oh boy, when He said, “Move!” it happened fast. And they have been obedient. Read her story, it’s so encouraging.

My sister is moving. I am happy for her. Probably happier than she is. She does not want to move. But she’s pretty sure this will be a good thing for her children. She and I have talked about the Rich Mullins song that says, “I’d rather fight You for what I don’t really want, than take what You give that I need…” Yeah, we are there.

I’ve watched doors slam closed to keep her from going one direction (the direction she preferred) and open to point her in others. It has been goose-bump evoking sometimes how everything is working out.

Two people who I care about are moving.

And I am not.

A few people who have gotten to know my through my blog know that I really want to move. I’ve been praying and hoping and planning to move for quite a while.

But I am not moving.

************************************

Since the moment I stepped into this duplex I have been trying to figure how to move out again.

It’s true. What I wanted to write was, “Moving has been on our hearts for a while.” But that is not true. It sounds so much sweeter, but it just isn’t so. My husband and my sons, especially my sons, have been content with the space. I’m the one who wants to get out of "Dodge".

I’ve bucked and whined and thrown countless tantrums to God about this place. It’s ugly and old and ratty. I don’t like the neighborhood. I don’t like the layout. Not enough bathrooms, not enough storage, too far from this, to close to that. And God has patiently listened to all my complaints and did not budge. He has not moved (or let me move) one inch.

So imagine my surprise when out of my mouth came, “I think we should stay at least another year.”

My husband and I were having a conversation, one of how many I’ve lost count, about the pros and cons of moving. He’s heard my complaining almost as often as God has. He was saying that if it was that important, we could consider moving at the end of summer.

Imagine his surprise when I mentioned staying.

I don’t know who was more shocked, him or me.

Tomorrow I will start at the beginning; not almost five years ago when we moved in here, but almost sixteen years ago when we got married.

Say That Again, Sam

This got kind of loud...oooops!

There is an old joke I am sure everyone has heard before. It goes like this:

Joke Teller: “Pete and Re-Pete are in a boat. Pete fell out. Who was left?”
Unsuspecting Listener: “Repeat.”

Joke Teller: “Pete and Re-Pete are in a boat. Pete fell out. Who was left?”
Unsuspecting Listener: “Repeat.”

Joke Teller: “Pete and Re-Pete are in a boat. Pete fell out. Who was left?”
Unsuspecting Listener: “Repeat.”

…ad nauseum…

Life has been a lot like that joke around here lately. I don’t know if it is Spring Fever or end of the school year blues (although we school year round—it never really ends). But I have been repeating myself a lot repeating myself a lot repeatingmyselfalot…sorry, my record is stuck, lately. No one, and I repeat, NO ONE, , and I repeat, NO ONE is listening too me. Sadly I can’t even seem to remember what I said to myself in one room after I walk into the next.

We are trying to tie up all loose ends so that we might have two weeks off from school. So the boys can have a break and I can clean up the fall out I mean mess I mean tidy and straighten the artfully arranged clutter.

I’m behind on my blog reading. Behind on my IRL friends, behind, behind, behind, behind…

Reminds me of a song…

Because it repeats. And makes a lot of noise. Kind of like stuff here.

You can’t ride in my red wagon
The wheels are broke
And the axle’s draggin’
Same song
Next verse
A little bit louder and a little bit worse…

You can’t ride in my red wagon
The wheels are broke
And the axle’s draggin’
Same song
Next verse
A little bit louder and a little bit worse…

You can’t ride in my red wagon
The wheels are broke
And the axle’s draggin’
Same song
Next verse
A little bit louder and a little bit worse…

Like I said…it repeats. And is loud. Kind of like here.

Really, It's Just a Minor Setback--

...or would I want some cheese and crackers with my w(h)ine? A totally, self-involved pity party. Enter at your own risk.

Thanks for stopping by and visiting today. Really you want to come in? Don't look at the mess around the Joyful Duplex. You need to be warned if you want to come in you should first don the safety-gear.

Then you can have some tea, there's a lot of tea today.

Ignore my bathrobe and stylish attire. My goal is to have a complimenting Lone Ranger mask to add to the ensemble soon.

Sometime shortly after hitting the "Publish" button for the Miss Bishop review and checking a few blogs the world came to a crashing halt yesterday.

Wordless Wednesday went out the window. So if you stopped by to see one of my photos feel free to browse the archives.

Thursday Thirteen is likely to fall by the wayside to, seeing as my brain has just recently found a modicum of coherency. But I've only managed to maintain function for less than a half hour at a time. And then I make my way back to my dark bedroom and heating pad.

In other words, life went from 60 to 0 in nothing flat. I have not felt that bad in years. The boys had (thankfully) gotten most of their school done before I collapsed. I had an inkling the night before I might be getting "a little something." When it started, I thought, "Well I can watch those movies, I've been wanting to." But that involved light and noise. And those became my enemies.

What was worse is that the boys decided to follow in my footsteps shortly after. Them I feel sorry for. Me--I probably deserved it.

We are grateful that Daddy has been working from home and took over the handing out of the medicines, warm compresses, tea and soup. He also ventured out to the Walmart wilderness and brought home a humidifier, more pharmacuticals and Listerine. Oh and being the pushover Daddy that he is, he brought the boys home a new video game.

So the house is trashed, the blinds are closed. Every blanket in the house is being used. Maybe life will return to our normal chaos tomorrow. I'll try to respond to my e-mails and some comments tonight, maybe. But for now thanks for checking up on us.





Be sure to slather you keyboard in hand sanitizer as you leave.

Black Friday: A Look Back

I’ve never been a “Black Friday” fan, I worked at least twelve years in some form of retail and saw more pushing, shoving and herding of hordes than anyone should have to. I remember the last Black Friday I was working. I knew I would be leaving retail after the first of the year. I was sooooooo excited. I was probably merrier then, than all the previous Day after Thanksgivings before.

After I did leave retail my mother and I did start a little tradition of our own on the day following Thanksgiving. For almost fifteen years (we missed one or two) we would get up early and drive to two very tiny towns (populations less than 500, I suppose) near their home. It was all very sweet and the pace was as slow as we liked. The crowds were in the malls at the city and we got the fresh air and cozy atmosphere. Both towns were decorated simply and in an old-fashioned manner.

The first town is an antiquing town. The main street has stores filled with antiques and craft shops. Sometimes we would start at the bakery with a pastry. And often we would warm up at a small coffee and tea shop about halfway through our shopping. There was a store with one floor devoted entirely to Christmas. That was mandatory to visit. Also a must stop shop was the Victorian shop—so small it could fit into my living room, but packed with delicate and beautiful ornaments, tantalizing scents and peaceful music. Every store was filled with holiday cheer and even though it was, technically, a retail environment it was just different and special.

The second town is filled with many Danish descendants. We would head first to the local craft fair. My mother worked with the public for a long time and knew so many people. She would take at least twice my time in getting through the stalls & booths because she would stop and talk to everyone she knew. And she knew everyone. Then we would go to several other shops, including the one in the windmill and finally straggle toward home. If we had any energy left we might stop at the town square in my parents’ hometown to visit three shops we were particularly fond of.

Then I would spend most of the weekend decorating her house. And there were lots of things that followed just because “that’s how we did things.”

Because this is our first holiday without my mother, and for a few reasons, this year isn’t going to be like that. Maybe some year in the future I will retrace our steps alone or with one of the children (none of whom seem to have inherited the “browsing gene”). Maybe I will find something nearer my home for the day after Thanksgiving.

Which brings me back to my search…for ways to bless our families during the holidays. Please join me and share your ways to make the holidays really holy days.

What was your “Black Friday” like today?

Grains of Gratitude

What a difference a week makes.

To quote another cliché, life changes in a blink of an eye. One breath you have both feet on earth and the next breath can be drawn on the other side, hopefully in heaven, meeting the LORD.

My mother changed her address this week from a shell on earth to glory in heaven. I am grateful for the life she led and I hope I can learn from her example. After over three years of fighting with colon cancer her body had fought enough. Doctors and family agreed that there were no more avenues to try.

I received a call Wednesday afternoon and was very thankful that my bags were left packed from the previous weekend. Thursday in the late afternoon, I held her hand while she took her last breath here and her first in the light of the LORD. For that I am forever grateful.

My father showed such love and devotion and was with her for the last weeks almost without respite. He taught our family about faithfulness and commitment. How can I be anything but grateful.

My sister has been a support to me through all of this. We’ve gone from adult children to adults. Preparing funeral arrangements and such has always been our mother’s area. She and her sister always took care of “those things.” She has been by my side through this and kept me focused on what needs accomplished and we’ve even managed to laugh at good memories.

My children have been so precious and free with their love this week. They have given me something to hold on to when I really didn’t want to do much other than crawl in bed. But who can resist such sweet love? My Roo chose to say goodbye to Grandma in ICU and gave her a kiss and told her he loved her. Though my heart broke, I knew it was a gift for all of us.

My dear husband has been such a rock for me. It is with him that I am “real.” I know he knows me and there is no pretending. I can say anything. What a blessing he has been. He is giving my father a gift of playing for my mom’s funeral.

Pastor Al and his wife Ella have once again blessed our family. They are family. Without their support and guidance and comfort we would have been adrift on our little raft this week.

The ICU staff, medical professionals, doctors and all the unexpected “angels” at the hospital made my mother more comfortable, tried to do their utmost to relieve her of her ailments, and at the same time were so compassionate to us. There is no way of repaying them.

I cannot say enough about the friends and family members who have been blessing us this week with prayer, food, fellowship and hugs. To go through life alone, without the aid and blessing of people such as these would be ungrateful.

For all these and so much more, I am grateful.

Grains of Gratitude has been a gift that was started by Christine at Brady’s Bunch. When I started participating I had no idea what an outlet and blessing it would be to stop each week and remember to count my blessings. I am grateful for this too.

Hug your family today for me.

Peace, joy and comfort for the journey for this week.

Goodbye Old Man, We Will Miss You

Yesterday, in the midst of waiting for news about my mother, we had to make the choice to put down our “Old Man” cat, also known as Tucker. Tucker was in his early to mid-twenties and had been a part of my life longer than my husband.

Up until Friday he was still getting up early every morning to greet my husband over coffee and meow about the current events. At one time Tuck was a large (near twenty pound) cat, but the last few years have seen him thin down quite a bit. Over the weekend we noticed he wasn’t up with the dawn and in fact needed called to be roused. Sunday night found him unable to navigate stairs and his meower was noticeably quieter. By Monday morning there was nothing but a squeak and two steps was about all his back legs were good for.

My sweet husband came home from work, made the vet call, and gave the boys a little time to say goodbye to their beloved grey tiger. Many tears were shed and I’m not sure that my sweetheart didn’t shed the most. This from a man who supposedly didn’t want cats. He’s missing his coffee buddy quite a bit already.

For my part, I’m missing a friend of near sixteen years. He came to me as an adult, he was somewhere between the age of seven and ten. I’m looking for someone to head butt me and track me down to the kitchen in case there is a can of tuna to be opened. His animal buddies, Libby and Sid are a little confused at his absence.

This cat somehow became “my mother’s cat.” When she would visit, he would wait for her to find a seat, thereby creating a lap, proceed to insinuate himself in her arms and stay there for as long as he could. He would position himself so he could gaze adoringly at her and meow and “talk” to her, telling her, surely, of his abused life with me and all insults, real and imaginary he was forced to endure. She of course would tell him how wonderful he was. I swear he knew when I talked to her on the phone. He would shove his way onto my lap and head-butt the phone until I told her he was there.

There is a furry hole around here, I’m telling you.

For those sweet friends who’ve commented or e-mailed about my mom, I am still waiting on any real “news.” She was transferred late yesterday from the local hospital to the university hospital in a nearby city. She has been unable to eat and has at least one episode of extremely low blood pressure with rapid pulse. She’s quite unhappy about all the tubes she’s wearing, among other things. We were going to visit today, but my sister and father think waiting one more day might be better. So the boys and I will leave early tomorrow and stay at least one night.

I plan on blogging as I am able, while to some it may seem insensitive, but as some may recognize it is really good therapy for me.

Blessings,
Julie

Grains of Gratitude

Grains of Gratitude—Well I’m back. Somewhere around Wednesday I had a bit of a melt down. And I knew I needed a bit of a break from as much as possible. Blogging, while generally an uplifting project did not fall into the “necessity” category and so that was something that got set aside for just a bit. But I’m back. And grateful to be so.

The boys and I are thankful for two men who make such a difference in our lives. The first is my dad, who I talked about here. He is a good grandfather too. Always ready to tell the boys of naughty things I did and side with them when I am being a “mean mom.” He especially likes to see how many snacks they can eat and how late they can stay up and watch television with him. He is always good about having his grandchildren come alongside and help him with his projects. We are blessed.

We are also blessed with my husband. When he and I were planning our wedding and talking about our life together, for some reason, we never saw ourselves as parents. But I remember thinking, “Even though we won’t have children, I know he would be a great dad.” Good thing, too. Both our boys were extremely planned after a change of heart about our future and let me tell you—I got them a good dad.

Happy Fathers Day to both the men who have blessed my life.

This week I am grateful for my new IRL friend R. She listened thoughtfully as I explained how much I wish I could dance again—as in take a dance class (jazz or ballet), but am too embarrassed about my age and weight. She told me that I am beautiful and a wonderful person, and the way she said it—I believe she meant it. But she also had the courage to tell me that I just needed to get over myself, put my big girl panties on and do it. That it was there and available, but I had to do it.

I’m still thinking.

I met this neat lady through our children’s activity. She brought her daughters to town to participate, so she is visiting for a month. She is vivacious, sweet and open. I am grateful to have met her.

This week my husband put a black-out on electronic entertainment for the boys. It meant more coming from him and it made a difference. I am not anti-electronics. We have plenty. But attitudes were getting sour and a week where the precious little free time was played with physical toys and board games and art supplies were dragged out and books were read has made a difference. Grateful for good attitudes.

For my geriatric cats and mid-life pooch I am grateful. Old Man is in his mid-twenties, the Ferocious One is sixteen and the Poochie is six. They have blessed us with snuggles and play and companionship. They have been healthy for the most part and only slightly neurotic (which my husband said is my fault) and I am grateful. I am trying to not look too far forward because inevitably they will not last forever. But God was kind when He created animals. They really are blessings.

The pool has holes. It is one of these pools. I am grateful we can get a new one. Because it is hot. And while I don’t like hot, I like to play in the pool with the boys.

Praying that you have a good week. What are you grateful for today?

Grains of Gratitude was started by Christine at Brady’s Bunch.

See Mom Run.

(Cue the circus music--calliope and all...)

Watch the amazing mom!! See her juggle!!!

Watch her clown around!!

See her build a house of cards...

(The needle scratches off the record somewhere around here...leaving some ominous rumblings.)

And watch it all come tumbling down!!!

Joyful Days will be taking a bit of time to break and recoup a little. Please excuse the debris, watch your step, and check back next week!!


For all of you entered in the latest book contest this means it will be extended for a few days. The winner will be announced Monday, June 18th. Thanks for your patience.

I will be meditating on this and thought I would share.

Matthew 7:24-29

24Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock:

25And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock.

26And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand:

27And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it.

28And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended these sayings, the people were astonished at his doctrine:

29For he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.

Many blessings and Prayers!!

Dear Lady Who Blessed Me at Wal-Mart,

Thank you kind lady at Wal-mart.

The other evening I mistakenly thought I might make a quick trip to Wal-Mart. Five items on my list. Well, the words quick and Wal-Mart never should be used in the same sentence.

Fifteen items and about 45 minutes later I was standing deciding which line was less than five deep. So I decided to be brave and attempt the self-check out lane that Wal-Mart has so graciously installed. Have I mentioned I am technically challenged? Apparently I have gotten more technically challenged with age and children. I find the self-checkout lane to be incredibly intimidating. Why this is, I have no clue because I was a grocery clerk from the ages of sixteen to twenty-one. I at one time was able to check groceries. Don’t know if it is the fact that motherhood has sucked every ounce of confidence out of me or what.

But there I was and I needed to get out of there. I really only did have fifteen items and none of them were from the Pharmacy area nor from the alcohol aisle. So I was proudly unloading my cart when I came to…the bag of un-ground coffee. Could I ring up coffee at the self-check lane? Had Wal-Mart planned for such an occurrence??? Was I really that unadvanced that I was worried about it?

The Wal-Mart associate “overseeing” my lane was pointedly ignoring me. The kind lady behind me did not get huffy. What she did was gently ask if she might help and got me and my coffee weighed and purchased. Well the coffee got weighed. And I paid. She was smiling and she was gracious.

Really, I suppose it is a boring story. But I was blessed in this day of “hurry up and get out of my way” that a stranger would take a moment to help without making me feel like a total dweeb. It doesn’t take much. It really is the little things.

How Do You Spell Relief?

Well I thought I would spell it J-O-B. As in DCG received the much prayed for job.

55 days unemployed it will be when he starts on Friday. But oddly, yesterday when I found out I did none of the things I thought I would do. Almost two months ago when this “desert” began I thought I might dance and cry with relief. I thought I might call everyone I knew to celebrate. I thought we might plan a dinner out. I thought we might have a bottle of wine to celebrate (There is one in the cupboard—waiting.) I did call my family. None of the other things were done.

The reality was…we ended up in a fight. Sigh. It was short. It was just a flash. But initially it seemed an odd response to an answered prayer. For this whole time, although there has been some depression and tears, worries and unspoken frustrations, we have put up a fairly united front to family and friends and to especially not worry the boys anymore than they were. I think there was a release in the news and we faltered. Like I said it was a flash—two minutes of exchange, five minutes of silence and then repentance and forgiveness on both sides. But it was a shocker.

Dare I say it? I took it out on my husband that I was disappointed God did not meet all my “demands” for what DCG’s (DarlingCaveGeek) new job should be. The biggest one being—not another contract. And this is. A contract to permanent hire. It appears to be a fine job, but I know nothing about the company, other than they moved faster than any other we’ve dealt with—the initial contact was last Friday. Everyone else is dragging their feet in decisions. (Watch more offers come next week. He won’t take them, it would just be ironic.) It was not on a bus line, the commute is kind of stinky, with no alternate route. There were tantalizing benefits that won’t be put in writing.

I’m kind of a brat, aren’t I? Who said that there would be 100% perfection, satisfaction and joy on this earth? Not God. No, He says otherwise. Who says that I will get more than I deserve? Well actually—He did and He’s already provided that because I deserve death and condemnation and I have instead salvation and eternal life. So what is my problem?? (Another sigh) Oh, it is that humanity thing again. I am really tired of that.

So we start a new chapter. And I am grateful we will be able to leave the desert again. And as I went through the day yesterday I mellowed and praised. I know that my trust should not be in “chariots and horses” or rather offer letters and employers. The ugly lessons we have learned about ourselves are quite vivid right now. Praying I don’t lose sight of those things I need to work on and change.

One thing I will say now is that there is joy in the fact that this trial did not divide us as a family. Our boys showed great character for ones so young. DCG and I chose to cleave for the most part and draw closer to each other and the boys. We spent a lot of time together. We laughed and we shared time which was the one thing we had in plentiful supply.

Someone asked me yesterday if it was a good job. I said ask me five years from now. For now it is a job, just that and nothing more. I am reminded by a story that Max Lucado shared called the Woodcutter’s Wisdom. If you’re a Lucado fan you’ve probably heard it. If not, it is a parable for everyone. Worth the read. It is in PDF form so I think you need Acrobat to read it.

It seems to me God isn’t quite finished with our lessons. I think our trust and faith need to be more grounded in Him and perhaps this is why our prayer was answered with this job. Maybe if it was the perfect dream job we would forget our lessons too soon. I don’t claim to have wisdom to interpret things, it is just a hunch. Maybe, just maybe I can get myself motivated to march forward and find the joy in this phase as He has shown me joys in everything else.


Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6