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

Happy Time Change!!

Which one speaks to you more?

 Most of us tolerate the "Fall Back" time change a little better than the "Spring Forward," but I think most would agree that messing with "time" messes with us.

We went to Mass last night. The chaotic rush to church on the Sunday of Daylight Savings time does little to exhort us to holiness. In fact it may cause us to dance a little too near sin. So we agreed to Saturday Mass and I changed the clocks when we got home.

I have two teens, so sleep is premium around here. My oldest is on a kick that time is relative (he's right). And my youngest lives virtually in England (in his heart and via the internet). My husband has periods of 24 hours on call and occasional technology crises. So this household is not unaccustomed to dealing with messed up sleep, But I always dislike the socially imposed time change.

I wonder what would happen if I refused. Hmmmmmm....

Joyfully adjusting,

Julie

20 Years of Medical Practice Affects My Navel Gazing

So I went to see a new doctor (an internist); because, after two visits in July and August with complaints about my knee, specifically, combined with other joint pain and a overall sense of unwellness, the old doc told me, "As we age it just takes more time to heal. Let me know if it gets worse"

Which was doctor speak for, "It's in your head, get over it." And, just like that, she was out the door before I could ask questions. And, "Oh, by the way, let's just do everything via e-mail from now on." As in "We don't want to hear your voice on the phone because we are too busy to talk to you."

Luckily (and only 6 months later!), the orthopedic I took myself to did NOT think I was crazy. Of course he had the MRI and x-rays to consult. I learned a lot, but he is an orthopedic--and a resident to boot, so I likely will not be able to return to him, so I went searching for a new doctor.

There was the FP doctor I had seen at the practice my husband is/was using (another story for another day) and he also DID NOT think I was crazy. I would have gone back to him, but since my husband was struggling with the front office staff (the wife of the doctor who owns the practice), I decided to strike out for different pastures.

The new doctor, a woman, has a bio that lists her time prior to practice as a pharmacist. I am always concerned about drug interaction and the affects of meds on my blood sugar. I have a handful of issues that are starting to add up and I want someone to direct my medical care besides...well...me. This was going to be awesome.

Well...Dear Doctor-lady took one look at me and decided I was Holly Homemaker with nary a brain in my head. She ignored what I perceived to be my problems and gave me her best advice..."Watch Dr. Oz while you are ironing. He's got good advice for diets."

Really? Twenty years and that's whatcha got, lady?

Actually I did not say that.

I was in such shock, I just dumbly and numbly looked at her and let the rest of the whole five minutes of thorough medical care pass me by. I sat for a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time waiting for lab work and then was shown the door.

Come back in a month.

I made it to the parking lot before crying. I sat there and just sobbed.

Her medical assumption of my person doesn't line up with my perception of myself. I've always seen myself as knowledgeable, and well-spoken. But maybe I am what she saw. I've been mulling that over. I know I don't look like a career woman, but really, do I look like, well...what do I look like?

So, anyhoo...I've been trying to decide what to do about her and trying to decide what to do about me. This should not be so traumatic, but it is. Part of it is facing my age and the fact that I will not be returning to 20, 25, 30 or even 40 anytime soon. OK...never. Even if I can get back in shape. It will be shape housed in a mature home.

And what do I think of myself? Can I allow fifteen minutes with a stranger to redefine who I think I am?

I've spent the last eighteen months dealing with several issues: family, health, spiritual, relationships, that have shaken me to my foundation. I finally thought I had regained my identity. And now this.

I am proud to be a homeschool mom and all that entails. I spend an inordinate amount of time chauffeuring, scheduling, meal-planning...blah, blah, blah. I am glad I am available to help other people (not my children) in my life that need me. I recently helped a friend proof-read parts of her book. The CEO of a non-profit organization asked for a few hours of my time to get input into the issues concerning their school (people like that usually don't bother with unintelligent people, do they? I don't have any money, so that's not the reason for the time). I play a stupid video game, I read, I explore many crafting options. But I don't watch television much and I DON'T IRON!!!!

Last night was the first night since the appointment that I did not dream about the whole doctor's visit. This was the first morning I got through without tearing up.

Obviously, I've allowed this to balloon into more than it should be. And so I am spewing it out to the internet. Maybe that will shake the blues that settled on my shoulders off.

Moving on...

Lost for Words

When I was a child I read the dictionary. For fun. I read the phone book, too. Yeah...I was that kind of kid.

But the upside of my wild youth was that, as an adult, I used to be the person everyone would ask for a definition, a better word choice, an idea for how to "say things." And then I met menopause.

Besides the delight of hot-flashes, mood-swings to top any I had ever had before and sleeplessness, besides all of that, I lost my words. The boys will ask me a question and I know the answer. It just gets stuck between my brain and my mouth. For the first time in my life I am at a loss for words. (My husband is a bit surprised by this.)

So, that is why it took me until January 9th to write my first blog post of the year. I was searching for my words. Or rather, searching for the word.

I'm not sure when it became the popular thing to do to have a word to sum up what one wanted for the upcoming year, but I know it was going on when I started this blog and the word I picked was "JOY."

"JOY" is a wonderful word and I am not giving it up. 2010 and 2011 were years to test my resolve for "joy in all things." I lost the battle more than a few times. 2012 definitely needs me to focus on joy, but I felt I needed another word to restart myself on a better path than the one I was on.

So, for me, 2012 is going to be a year of "RESPONSE." That took a lot of work to find that particular word. Not an unusual word or an especially creative word. But I have so many ideas of what I want to happen this year. And I felt the need to sum it up in one word.

I finally realized that if we are to be God's children, we are called to respond. To everything. Every person, every situation, every moment of the day we are called to respond to HIM. When we do nothing, it is a response. When we throw our hearts into something, it is a response. The half-way answer, the luke-warm gesture...also a response.

My ponderings the last few days on this word have led me many directions. My hope is that I can, again, come back to "blog-land", and work out my day to day living in words. We shall see.

I've missed my blogging friends. I've burrowed down a hole for a while. Forgive me for my lack of presence. Many blogging friends have been on my heart and in my prayers quite often, but I couldn't find it in myself to surface and say so very often. For that I am sorry. I hope I can retrace my steps and get back to where I was.

2012...Let's see what your response is.

Friday Five

There's a lot that I think I want to say. But there is a lot to do today. What I will say is that I have no doubt that I am where God wants me to be today.

But truly...I wish I was on a beach. But God does know best.

One thing there is no doubt I am glad I a was wrong about at 12, 18 and 28 is that I am very, very glad I am a mom. And just in case anyone wondered, my boys were very planned for. No surprises. At least as far as the due dates. Raising children is fraught with surprises!!

So for today you get five pictures!

Every fall I take pictures of the boys. I used to use them as my blog headers early on. Here are the parting shots from the last five years:

2006

2007

2008

2009

2010

Hope your Friday is fabulous!

Count it all joy,

Julie

Daybook...March 14, 2011

FOR TODAY ...March 14, 2011...

Outside my window...IT IS SNOWING!!!! Really? I need to get on the road!

I am thinking..."REALLY???? I need to get on the road!"

I am thankful for...My husband who has been very understanding on this long journey to menopause--that is still not over.

From the learning rooms...One boy does school on the road, one boy does school at home with Dad.

From the kitchen... I will not be in mine.

I am wearing... Pajamas. I need to get dressed and on the road. But it's SNOWING!

I am creating...I have about seven knitting projects going. My goal is to finish ONE, 1, one, uno, next week.

I am going...to take care of a relatives needs for a short while.

I am reading...Salem Falls, by Jodi Picoult and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (yes, again).

I am hoping...for safe travel. Actually, I am praying for that.

I am hearing...the clock ticking.

Around the house...Everyone else is asleep.

One of my favorite things...a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.

A few plans for the rest of the week:Driving...

No picture today. Hopefully, I can start sharing some soon.

Off the computer now. Must load the van. Hopefully the snow will lighten up soon. Will be visiting my bloggy neighbors this evening when Boo and I touch down.

Visit Peggy at the Simple Woman's Daybook to find more daybookers.

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

Not Enough Coffee Today

Up until 2:30, last peeked at the clock at 3 a.m. There is not enough coffee in the world, right now. But I am also not foolish enough to drink more than my usual morning jolt, lest I repeat the scenario again tonight; switching to tea, shortly.

In the absence of brain cells, but in trying to get back in the posting habit I give you the two big questions on my mind at the moment:

What Kind of Coffee am I???

You Are a Plain Ole Cup of Joe

But don't think plain - instead think, uncomplicated You're a low maintenance kind of girl... who can hang with the guys Down to earth, easy going, and fun! Yup, that's you: the friend everyone invites. And your dependable too. Both for a laugh and a sympathetic ear.

What Kind of Coffee Girl Are You?

Yeah, I am plain...my husband will attest to the fact I am much more low maintenance than my friends. Not that I don't offer my share of quirks and complications, but he says he'll keep me.

Question 2: Where is the perfect shade of green?

A few days ago I was on the knitting path trying to find the perfect shade of green for a scarf. What do you mean, "Did I bring a color swatch?" That takes the challenge out of it. How many shades of green could there be? Well...this and that take a stab at the answer...sigh...Yes, I am getting that swatch.

You Are Mint Green

Balanced and calm, you have mastered the philosophy of living well. Your friends seek you out for support, and you are able to bring stability to chaotic situations. You're very open and cheerful - and you feel like you have a lot of freedom in life. Your future may hold any number of exciting things, and you're ready for all of them!

What Color Green Are You?

Blogthings: Cheaper Than a Therapist

Mint? Really? I was thinking Basil or Sage, maybe Oregano...hmmmmmm...mint...This is like the Purple question.

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.

Aubergine, I'm Telling You!!

I am NOT purple!!

Well, apparently I am.

Who knew?

Your Blog Should Be Purple

You're an expressive, offbeat blogger who tends to write about anything and everything. You tend to set blogging trends, and you're the most likely to write your own meme or survey. You are a bit distant though. Your blog is all about you - not what anyone else has to say.

What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?

Purple?

You Are a Confident Purple Car

You're definitely an unusual person. Some people may even call you "weird" or "freaky." Luckily for you, you don't care what others think. If anything, you enjoy it when people think you're strange! You are offbeat and eccentric. You see the world a little differently than everyone else does. You are seen as mysterious. People are very curious about you... whether they know you well already or not.

The Car Oracle

Purple?

I think not.

Aubergine, perhaps.

Maybe even amaranthine, amethyst, heliotrope, lavender, lilac, mulberry, orchid, periwinkle, perse, or plum.

But certainly not purple.

What does the car oracle say about you?

Notes From the Sofa

Part-way into Week 6 of school.

It's interesting to watch out my kitchen window in the morning as I wait for my tea to steep. The neighbor children are all waiting for the school buses in shorts and sandals. A couple more months and they will be bundled up. At least I hope they will be!!

I'm ever so grateful that the boys have not had to leave the house for school. This year has been particularly good and enjoyable, although still totally "real." Trust me we have our share of, "Mooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm!!! He's looking at me! He's humming/tipping his chair/tapping his pencil/breathing/piercing his nose with the paper clip--just kidding about the last one. Well...sort of. Let's just say I was kidding.

Ahhh--hemmmm...As I said, we are on Week 6 and I think pretty much up to speed, although a few of my high ideals have met with the reality of the clock and I've not figured out how to squeeze more hours into the day. In fact, today, during a moment of total insanity, I agreed to let Roo participate in the ballet school's youth company for (thankfully just) one piece. Because we have nothing else to do. Choke, sputter, cough. What was I thinking??

We've gotten a good Bible study going on the names of God. Both boys are enjoying that and I am so pleased. The basics are all falling into place. Each has chosen things that interest them and seem pretty happy with their choices.

A year has made a world of difference for Boo in ability to focus for longer stretches. Although he's still pretty...ahhhhh...creative. However, to his defense, he was NOT the one with the paper clip. Just sayin'...


I realized today, as I was helping Roo with Latin--his choice, not mine, although I'm happy to provide, that I need track down a copy of Famous Men of Rome. A little late, but it will all work out. Going to check out my local homeschool bookstore first, but there are several places to find it online. I'm sure there are going to be more bits and pieces that turn up. We'll just worry about those in their time.

We've managed to get piano in everyday, too. Piano has been important to all of us but was something that fell apart toward April and hopefully we will regroup. The boys were excited for their new books, although I'm still waiting on Amazon and my pitiful postal service to deliver two more books we ordered.

Found this looking for the word "sofa." Definitely NOT my sofa, but there are days this would fit my reality.

Click on the photo to see the design company this is from.

Not sure about you, but I think I smell autumn in the air, even through the near 90 degree heat and humidity.

Time is flying by!

Julie

Nine Years Ago

...I was cuddling a red-headed baby in the hospital. My call button was acting up and the nurse was in about every five minutes thinking I was messing with her. When she saw I was holding my baby and reading my bible she realized that I was NOT trying to be annoying.

Anyway...that little baby has grown to be a brown eyed, curly headed cutie. He's had the day off from school, gamed with his brother, received a present or two or...well he was spoiled, got taken out to the restaurant of his choice, got to play miniature golf where he proceeded to get several birdies, and got to have frozen custard and watch I Love Lucy. Friends and family are coming tomorrow for some hot dogs and hamburgers and some fun time.

How did nine years fly by?

Happy Birthday, Boo, my Peter Pan. May you have many, many more.

On a side note, thank you to all whose comments on my last post were so supportive. I appreciate that no one chastised me for my foolishness--and I do know how unsafe that was.

Just so you know, I found an e-mail from my sister saying when she read it she laughed until she cried. She appreciated my sharing and she knows first hand about that stubborn streak of mine but the mental picture she had was probably only too accurate and therefore cause of her laughter. Sisters will always keep you humble.
In Him,

Julie

Graphics from GlitterGraphicsNow.com

"Let Go, Julie! Just Let It Go!"

Most days this is what I see out my back door.



But one morning mid-summer, this was the view I had...through the door



and then...standing on the patio...looking at my neighbor's patio with my canopy bent and strewn about after the rains had gone.



We've lost a couple of these little canopies in the past year due to unexpected thunderstorms. At the end of last summer my impulsive husband and our dear friend hung on to one canopy during a sudden storm with winds easily topping fifty miles an hour. They saved the canopy. Scared the beejeepers out of me, but they did it.

I would never do something like that.

Or would I?



When I got up at six that day there were just a few wispy clouds to the west of us. We didn't think too much of it, even though the forecast threatened isolated thunderstorms. My ever so humble little patio looked inviting and fine. I went down to the husband's office to chat for a few minutes before I needed to do a quick change to take the boys to their day at summer intensives.

In less than thirty minutes the sky changed from overcast to green-black and the winds had picked up to at least forty mph, thunder boomed closer and closer. To quote a cliché the rain fell in sheets--it really did.

As we ran out of the house I asked if we were going to take the canopy down and my husband, already hanging on to one side of the canopy as it offered to launch to the next block said it was too late, to go in. I decided to try to hang on too. Did I really? I'm still shaking my head at that one.

We hung on and the winds blew harder, the rain fell hard and the canopy constantly tried to take flight. If I had jumped in the pool, my pajamas would not have been more soaked.

The winds accelerated and the lightning got closer.

And silly ole me hung on tighter and tighter. Willing to risk much over a replaceable canopy.

Finally I realized my husband was no longer hanging on, but shouting in my ear, "Let it go, Julie, Just let it go!" I'm a little stubborn. And didn't let go right away.

We both hung on a little longer, enough to help it bend over the fence instead of becoming the projectile it could have been. And then we dove in the house just as the worst of the storm hit. My children witnessed the whole stupid thing. And were terrified.

This was the worst of our storm damage, but up and down the block trees were stripped, a few were even snapped. Windshields were busted out and houses were damaged.

And I was willing to take a chance with wind and lightning for my canopy.

As I dried off, I pondered how symbolic that was for so many things in my life. I'd rather hold on to the unimportant things than let them go. Am I too busy cling to my chaff (collections, things, junk, opinions) and storing them in barns? Should I be more concerned with treasures that won't rust or burn away?

How often has God said, "Just let it go, Julie!" How long did I hang on?

What are you hanging onto these days? I don't recommend what I did. Really, really stupid (and I know stupid is not a nice word--but it was.) I've learned my lesson about canopies. Hopefully the bigger lesson will sink in too.

Let go,

Julie

Where I'm From...

I've wanted to do this poetry exercise forever. I saw several bloggers doing this over a year ago. But in traditional Julie procrastination mode it got set aside and put off and put on hold. But I thought it would jump start me back after my sporadic posting of late.

The original "Where I'm From" is by George Ella Lyon.

I am from hiding under the kitchen table, the grownups sitting around, above, telling stories and jokes and playing cards; from Dairy Queen on a hot summer night with a butterscotch dipped cone and walking two blocks to Mass before school in the dark.

I am from the tiny house on the corner, six blocks from Grandma’s and Grandpa’s, my little teal pedal car parked at the front steps. I am from the lilacs, petunias and a rosebush with tiny pink roses, the bleeding hearts and fuchsias hanging on the back patio. I am from the sandbox beneath the forked apple tree.

I am from Christmas Midnight Mass and keeping secrets, from Florence and Viola and Gammie. I am from “I’m fine!”, sweeping emotions under the rug and ignoring the pink elephant dancing in the room. From “act your age” and “grow up”.

I am from Latin Mass to Vatican II, incense to Kum ba ya guitar Mass and from altar rails to Holy Eucharist on the hand. From Sister Rosemary who loved me to Sister Mary Adrian who told me I was ugly. From CYC and TEC. I’m from Iowa, Italians, Danes, Native Americans, Irish, Cappellettis and SPAM.

From singing Paddlin’ Madeline Home to the checkout lady for my delighted grandparents, my ratty, stuffing worn thin baby doll draped over my arm, belting my song loud and clear; from beneath the dark canopy at my uncle’s funeral, his parents conspicuously absent because he died fighting in Viet Nam; from sitting in the comic book rack reading Tiger Beat and Archie comics and playing Barbies in the back room and aisles of the corner grocery that my parents ran—my mother during the days and my father at night after his “real job”; and the walk to Grandma’s house one winter night when one of my parents locked the keys inside and us outside. Snow was deep and falling fast. It was a very quiet walk.

I am from much perused photo albums under my mother’s bedside table and my grandmother’s photos loose in boxes amidst the buttons and blankets deep in the cedar chest…some never seen until recently. Dalmatians, Dachshunds, a lilac gingham dress on the swing set, red-white-and-blue jeans on horseback, a new outfit for Christmas each year, costumes and pretended excitement for the first days of school, Santa Claus and Mommie and Mommy kissing Daddy. Somewhere in there were vacations—camping and amusement parks, Royal Gorge, Pikes Peak and Mount Rushmore, traveling in the back of the station wagon staring at the sky. Many miles of years on Polaroids and Kodachrome.


If you would like to do the "Where I'm From" poem in the style of George Ella Lyon here is the form. Let me know if you do!!

I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.

I am from the _______ (home description... adjective, adjective, sensory detail).

I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail).

I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).

I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).

From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).

I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.

I'm from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).

From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).

I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).

Have Suitcase, Will Travel...

On the road, again and again.

I think of the Willie Nelson song every time I say that.

Internet connection is temperamental, other than that, all is well.

Somewhere mid-May I think I might have said something foolish like, "Ready for a break from the crazy merry-go-round/routine." Well, life has been anything BUT routine. I'm ready for some boring again. Busy same-old, same-old looks mighty appealing.

Whine, whine...where is my cheese?

Honestly?

Carrie at Quite the Normal Life wants me to be honest. And Squelly at The Dreamer's Day does too! They shared the Honest Scrap Award with me. Thanks, ladies! I'm sorry I've been so slow in posting this. Honestly? I've been a bad, overwhelmed by life blogger. But, and I know I keep saying this, maybe now I can get back on track.

To accept this award, I need to: 1) Say thanks and give a link to the presenter of the award. 2) Share "ten honest things" about myself. 3) Present this award to 7 others whose blogs I find brilliant in content and/or design, or those who have encouraged me. 4) Tell those 7 people that they've been awarded HONEST SCRAP and inform them of these guidelines in receiving it :)

So my ten scraps of honesty?

1. Honesty is always the best policy. But I am trying to teach the boys that being honest does not mean you have to tell everything that you know. Like...you can say that your mom doesn't like mornings, but not tell someone that I look very scary when I wake up...or worse. Not that my lovely, adorable sons would ever share anything embarrassing about me.

2. Honestly? I start way to many things and then have a horrible time finishing them.

3. I am a serious pack rat. I am a crafter.

4. I am not a domestic goddess. I do not like housekeeping, I do it under duress and fear of the grossness that happens without cleaning. Company is always a great motivator, but I don't invite people over often enough.

5. Seriously? I am a wonderful procrastinator. Scarlett O'Hara has nothing on me. "After all, tomorrow is another day."

6. I am actually a very private person--hence the blog...makes perfect sense. I was trying to explain to someone how you can be a private person and still have a public blog. She doesn't get it. I have hermit tendencies to the point of annoying my friends,

7. Honestly, I am very frustrated with my endocrine system. The human body is an amazing thing, but mine is just a bit off balance. And it keeps swinging to and fro and getting my meds sorted out is annoying. Oh well...I can live with it and I'm happy for my little "thorn," knowing full well it could be much worse.

8. No kidding, I am an avid napper. Lately I have not been able to practice as much as I would like to.

9. For real, I am eclectic (possibly a bit eccentric) in almost everything. Randomly odd, that is me.

10. And finally, I am a grateful Christian, although I wonder at my witness most days.

Who am I asking to be honest? Well...

1. Leslie--she's always good at being transparent.

2. Renee--I can't imagine her telling a lie.

3. Pastor Al--if he'll play--he's about as honest as George Washington!

4. Michelle--you have to be honest as a mom of young'uns!

5. Sheryl--she's always real.

6. gemma--not afraid to say what she thinks.

7. Buttercup--honestly counting those blessings!

So now, honestly, I am going to get busy visiting blogs. Give me a few days to catch up! But I look forward to visiting. I'll bring some tea.

Be honest if you want to!! Tell us some deep, dark secrets and let me know!

Daybook...July 6, 2009

FOR TODAY ...July 6, 2009...

Outside my window...the gorgeous weather continues...I am loving this!

I am thinking...I can't confuse the boys' lunches this week because only one boy is going to be out of the house.

I am thankful for...the fact my drive time is decreased by over an hour every day this week!!

From the learning rooms...Boo is having a week off of everything. He needs a break. Roo is still at summer intensives. He's really learned a lot.

From the kitchen...maybe spaghetti and meatballs today--crockpot version.

I am wearing...denim shorts and a t-shirt--lots of work when I get home!

I am creating...still working on some knitting that I started in May...not a lot of time lately to get the needles clicking and clacking.

I am going...to put the living room to rights in the next two days!!

I am hoping...Roo's demonstration on Friday goes as well as Boo's did last week. I am so glad they were not at the same time.

I am hearing...morning noises--love the comforting sounds of my family.

Around the house...still wading through the chaos.

One of my favorite things...lunch with my husband. We went to a wonderful restaurant last week--food was superb, service was really top notch, and the company...just the best. I am married to a great guy.

A few plans for the rest of the week:Trying to find the living room floor, driving, drinking tea with my husband on the patio.

Visit Peggy at the Simple Woman's Daybook to find more daybookers.

Have a great week!

Stuck in My Head...

Recueillement

Sois sage, ô ma Douleur, et tiens-toi plus tranquille.
Tu réclamais le Soir; il descend; le voici:
Une atmosphère obscure enveloppe la ville,
Aux uns portant la paix, aux autres le souci.

Pendant que des mortels la multitude vile,
Sous le fouet du Plaisir, ce bourreau sans merci,
Va cueillir des remords dans la fête servile,
Ma Douleur, donne-moi la main; viens par ici,

Loin d'eux. Vois se pencher les défuntes Années,
Sur les balcons du ciel, en robes surannées;
Surgir du fond des eaux le Regret souriant;

Le soleil moribond s'endormir sous une arche,
Et, comme un long linceul traînant à l'Orient,
Entends, ma chère, entends la douce Nuit qui marche.

— Charles Baudelaire


This was something I had to memorize in college. Apparently it stuck. Some translations...

I Should Be Cleaning...

...but instead I'm on my computer from my still unfinished BLUE room. Love the blue!!

Waiting for my sister, nephew and niece to arrive. Let the mayhem commence.

All the cooking is outside--hamburgers on the grill, corn on the cob, veggies...plenty of food. Just nowhere to sit inside.

Anyone else want to come view the wreckage of my living room from my incomplete painting project? The canopy's up and the lawn chairs are out!

Off to find more jet fuel--ummm, I mean coffee.