Of Christmas Tweaked

And so it begins.

Christmastime.

Bleh.

Ha! I'm probably one of the few Christian bah humbugs that you know, but if you've been reading here long, you know that what I object to is the Christmas frenzy. The trappings. The wild-eyed-must-have-and-see-and-do-it-all-ness of it all.

And those silly deflated, face-down Santas splattered all over everybody's lawns.

And Rudolph (who's on tv tonight). The whole terrible tragedy of the little guy.

I prefer a type of year-around Christmas. It's quite different and the fun lasts much longer.

But anyway, remember when Ma Ingalls told Laura: "There's no great loss without some gain"? Well, guess what's been swirling inside my head this week?

Why? Because for the last five Christmases (or more) we've been downscaling Christmas majorly around our house. Fewer decorations. No parties. Less gifts each year. No tree except for the gold grapevine one I pulled from the basement (perpetually decorated so I could just plop! it on the table).

But in our Big Move, we even gave that away.

And each year, I've enjoyed Christmas more. The fewer the trappings, the greater the room for Christmas joy, I say.

And then last year I kept repeating, "Next year let's scale back even more, ok?" Tom and Naomi nodded agreement, though not as excitedly as I did. So, well, guess what? The 'no great loss without some gain' thing is our wonderful excuse this year. Because Tom was downsized into Unemployment Land, we have our legit reason to cut way, way back and do Christmas ultra-sanely.

(Insert the Hallelujah Chorus here.)

I already had my lovely half-off Victoria Christmas cards (from last January) and the stamps I'd stocked up on. Scribbling messages on Christmas cards is lovely and Grace-filled so that tradition will remain.

And our old-fashioned kitchen radio dial is already set on the Constant Christmas station. There's nothing like carols in the kitchen while my fingers shape pie dough and I'm gazing out on a snowy field laced with trees. So I will bake treats and sing along with the radio.

At Thanksgiving, Tom, Naomi and I discussed a money limit for each other, a lower one than ever, citing also that creativity is good and if we can make things or find gifts for free, well, so much the better. So look-out online credit card--you will be on a diet this December.

There will be gifts for our parents. Offerings for the needy, too. Hopefully a morning visit around the table with two of my friends. Maybe a few Christmas lights wrapped around the furniture. I'll retrieve our one (and only) box of Christmas decor from the attic and watch a few Christmas dvd's (don't you just love the Charlie Brown one?). And we'll eat a pleasant Christmas dinner, of course.

And well, that will be about it.

But it will be lovely and peaceful and hopefully, Jesus-centered.

And definitely, mall-mob-free. :)



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What are your favorite Christmas movies? The ones I've watched a bazillion times are the aforementioned Charlie Brown's Christmas, A Christmas Carol (with Geoge C. Scott. Hard to believe I used to have a major crush on him at age 14 after I saw him in Jane Eyre), the first two Home Alone movies (I know, I know, but I love them), It's a Wonderful Life, Prancer, Miracle on 34th Street, Ebbie, Christmas in Connecticut and While You Were Sleeping which I consider a Christmas movie when others might not.



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Traveling Beyond Wishing

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride." ... what my mother used to always tell me.

So the other morning while I walked down our dirt driveway to get the newspaper from the mailbox, I gazed around at the sun and the lawns and bare orchard trees, breathed deeply of country air and thought, "Oh, how I wish that today was early spring. I wish that winter was over and soon the buds on our magnolia tree would open all pinky-purple glorious."

Of course, this little voice inside cleared its throat and said, "Uh, Debra. You do realize that winter hasn't even begun, right? And that wishing will never, ever make Spring follow Autumn? So why waste time and emotional energy and risk discontentment?"

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sometimes Wisdom can be such a drag. :)

Yet of course, he's right.

Speaking of that, I'm thinking that sometime three nights ago, Grace, likely because of my ignorning her, crawled out the window and raced far away into the darkness. All these months since Tom was laid off I've been pretty darn patient having him constantly around the house. But lately! Oh dear, I've been all, nag, nag, nag and complain, complain, complain.

The wishing thing is also tripping me up with Tom's being home all the time.

How? Well, since The Day Our World Changed, poor ol' Debra has fashioned herself overwrought with all the extra work. She's had more dishes to wash, more meals to cook, more clutter to pick up and more laundry to wash (Tom's work uniforms used to be professionally cleaned). And since I'm trying to make and save money in hyper-drive so I can avoid the outside scary workplace, I'm on the computer more often while I complete my surveys, find and print coupons and brush-up on my something-from-nothing skills. Not to mention the extra writing I should be doing for possible income, something I'm mostly avoiding, so it's rather heavy on my mind.

And so, in the midst of all that, plus computer problems (hey, why not?), I've mega-wished that things were as they used to be--but more than that--I've wished I was as cheerfully adaptable as I believed I was.

So. Over and over, I grab myself by the collar and shake myself a bit. When I catch myself wishing, doing the ol, "Calgon, take me away," thing (yes, even escaping to the bathtub at times), I stop. Just stop in whichever room I happen to be and firmly tell myself, "Debra, get a grip. Get proactive. Get a plan."

And then I fix things. For example, rather than trying to write blog posts here while Tom's shoot 'em up tv shows blare three feet away (making me wear headphones with music playing, now hearing gunfire and music ) I, instead, write here while Tom is sleeping. Or away at doctor appointments and errands or while he's quietly reading the newspaper. I mean, why create frustration when I can avoid it?

And when I stopped wishing for my own room downstairs (and stopped complaining that the formica table in the bay window just was. not. working.), a terrific idea popped into my head. Why not create a desk area at our hoosier cabinet, instead? When I need time alone and some quiet, I can pull the pocket doors closed between the dining room and living room, sit at the hoosier and softly play my record albums at my feet. And now I love that area.

Moving some of my workload to 6:30 a.m. Cooking a few meals ahead. Picking-up all day with no words, just (glad) acceptance. Changes, changes. Is the list endless, I wonder?

And yet plugging away at what is bugging me, discovering one solution at a time and creatively fixing what's making me bonkers instead of zapping my mental strength with wishing and nagging (causing more problems)--that's the way to go, I'm finding. For me, anyway.

After all, where there's a will there is a way. My mother used to tell me that, too.

Of Secret Egg and Film Messages

Odd title, I know.

The afternoon before Thanksgiving I stepped to the refrigerator for some eggs so to whip-up two pumpkin pies. Yet when I opened the styrofoam egg carton, all that greeted me were empty egg shells.

Funny, Tom. Thanks for that. (heh)

But then I glanced at the inside of the lid and in swirly letters was stamped this phrase: "Good morning, Beautiful!" Awww... I whispered, "Good morning to you, too," and then thanked the egg company for thoughtfully including such a sweet message.

Well, fortunately we'd picked up some eggs at Aldi's so I retrieved them from the fridge, opened the lid and alas! Twelve lovely whole eggs and in small script along the lid's bottom were these words, "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24"

Wow. The sun shining through the window became even brighter. A real-live Bible verse inside a carton of eggs, from Aldi's of all places! And there within my kitchen God reminded me He really is everywhere and, if I keep my eyes open, I will catch every glimpse.

And while I cracked open three eggs, I remembered that, 29 years ago just before I mailed away some film to be developed (anyone else recall those days?), I slipped a piece of paper inside with a Bible verse. Can't recall which verse, but I'd recently heard a sermon which encouraged us to fling God's Word out everywhere to a hurting world.

Well, two weeks later when the photos arrived inside our post office box, I opened the company's envelope and there, in tiny script stamped just below the flap were two Bible verses. I think my heart skipped one beat for hey, this was a secular photo company, yet an employee had taken the time to pass along divine words of encouragement just for me, almost like a secret correspondence between Christians, a reminder that Christians are everywhere, too.

We are not out there by ourselves, alone.

Twenty-nine years later I've never forgotten. That's the sort of thing which stays with you for always, for God's Word is like that and obedience and kindness can go deep into areas of the heart, making changes, some which last forever.



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Never, ever believe that your God-given gifts and ministry must reach and touch huge numbers of people. What is huge to God is simple, unquestioning obedience to His most simple requests.


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Looks like other people appreciate Goldhen eggs' Bible verse, also. Go here to read some comments.


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Thanks so much for your anniversary good wishes here and at Facebook! What a treat they were to Tom and myself.

If Forever Was Like Today

Today was one of those days that makes me think, "If suddenly! Tom, Naomi, our collective cats and I were sucked into a sort of Twilight Zone vortex where, for the rest of our lives, we must remain inside this old farmhouse, living just as we lived today, just us three, ourselves, well, I could do that. Contentedly and with a heart full of gratitude. For the remainder of my days upon Earth."

That's how great was our Thanksgiving. And Tom's and my anniversary.

I hope your day was even nicer.

Pumpkins and Coupons and Anniversaries, Oh My!

So we are at 38 sunny, though chilly degrees this afternoon, but a dear old friend from the hometown we visited on vacation stated on Facebook that they are at a mere 5 degrees. Oy! So you'll hear no complaints about our nippiness (which suddenly feels not so nippy).

Speaking of Facebook, did you know you can sign- up with people like Coupon Dad or Money Saving Mom (etc.) and they'll give you links on your home page for coupons and such? Already I've received my free Purina One (good sized) pouch from Walmart and next they will send me a free serving of vanilla -flavored coffee. Thanks to Money Saving Mom for those. And just moments ago, because of Coupon Dad, I downloaded two coupons which will each get me $1 off of a cute little box of Birds Eye vegetables.

Just thought I'd mention yet one more great thing about Facebook. :)

Oh! And regarding all the leftover printed paper below the coupons I print ... I've been cutting that into semi-uniform pieces (approximately 3 x 8 inches), stacking them, then stapling them together at the top so to make tablets for scribbling notes. That's an old idea I've used off and on for the past 25 years or so. Great for shopping lists, bookmarks, notes for family members, etc.

I just got in from my petrified garden where I wrestled a pumpkin from its vine so I could slice it, then bake it for pumpkin puree for pies. I followed Mary Jane Butter's 'recipe' from the latest issue of her magazine--I've not made my own pumpkin puree in probably 21 years. (Whenever I need to recall how long ago something was, I always ask myself, "How old was Naomi at that time?" and then figure the difference between her age then and now. Does anyone else measure time by the ages of your children?)

And lastly, tomorrow is not only Thanksgiving, of course, but it's also Tom's and my 32nd anniversary. Wow. Thirty-two long, hard years as we are known to joke to each other. :)



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Happy Thanksgiving to you, my Readers! On this Thanksgiving Eve, I am thankful for you.

Of Entering From a Peaceful Place

So. Remember when I told you how I'd earned $6.80 from Opinion Outpost and I showed you the photos of items I'd bought for such a tiny amount? Well, on Saturday I sent away for my first check from Opinion Outpost for a whole $22.80.

I am thrilled. In fact, that day I also signed-up with Survey Mastermind where you can join lots of other survey websites and earn more money and things like gift cards from Amazon.com.

And the day before that? Well, for years, two of our credit card companies had been sending little catalogs showing us what we could buy with our reward credits. I peeked at a catalog and saw that for, like, 3,000,000 reward credits you, too!, could be the proud owner of two wine glasses. Of course, I shook my head and muttered, "Big deal. I could find those at a yard sale for 50 cents each. Besides, we don't even drink wine." heh.

Then I tossed the catalog and laughed at our thousands of reward credits. "What a scam," I mused.

Well. Being part of a jobless twosome makes you lots more sensitive to give-aways and such. So on Friday I actually read through one of those catalogs and saw that, aha! I could use our years' worth of rewards for cash. Good ol' American currency, not just silly, overpriced wine glasses.

So I went online, signed up there with our two credit cards and soon two checks for $85, total, will grace our mailbox. And when you add that to my Opinion Outpost check, well, hey! That's a whole $107.80 in one weekend. Kinda. Plus, there was the nearly $40 I saved at the supermarket with specials and coupons (paying $70, not $110).

I so get workaholics now. This money-making thing really can become addictive once you start making it, huh? :)

But you know? Someday, oh dear, I just may have to go out and get a real job and part of me says to that, "Eww! Sputter, cough, gag, don't-wanna-and-what-am-I-qualified-for-anyway-sputter-sputter."

Yet here's what I'm thinking today, perhaps just to prepare my head for that possibility: If I must work outside our home, may I enter the workforce from a peaceful place. May I go out singing, not writhing. May I expect to be joyfully surprised rather than walk in with a heart spilling dread.

May I expect God's amazing help, rather than my own failure.

Whatever I do, today or whenever--be it shopping in crowded places or going to the dentist or spending time with difficult people--may I enter each open door from a peaceful place within me. And may God keep emptying my inner places of wrong thinking and poison and discontent so that whole rooms will be left empty so to fill-up with peace galore. Peace which can then spill and spread wherever He may take me, even to distasteful places, making them distasteful no more.



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Oh! And I forgot to mention this money-saving hint which our friend, Darcy from Nevada told us about during her October visit. She said a friend of hers, in her checkbook, always rounds her checks up, not up or down accordingly. And each year, she uses the few hundred dollars extra to go on vacation(!) Now, if I could just remember to do that...

It Was The Control Issue Thing After All

I used to complain majorly when stores pinned-up their Christmas decorations in August and displayed their It's a Wonderful Life dvd's and holiday project supplies and green and red foiled candy bags with reckless abandon during Labor Day week.

I'd write essays about the folly of all that and determine not to shop at those stores (or I'd go and then sail down the aisles with my cart and righteous indignation). I'd pretend all the green and red was gone and I'd complain in my heart (and to any live person who paused to listen) about rushing Christmas rather than appreciating Autumn yet unspent.

What a big, fat, huge waste of Time. And energy, daylight, health and breath.

It was all about control--or the lack thereof. Here was yet one more part of my life where I could not make people do what I believed they should. Just one more area where ol' Debra couldn't force folks to view Life as she does and then do what she thought best.

When I got married I experienced Control Freak Frustration big time. I mean, I'd waited all those 18 years to become an adult, all the while believing this annoying lie, "When you grow-up, you can do whatever you want." (Huh. As if!) Then I married at 19 and discovered the ol' marriage-is-all-about-compromise thing and God says women aren't supposed to boss their husbands around and you have to wait for having Enough Money and a baby changes everything and if, after you've worked all day you have any time or money or strength left, well, then you can do what you want.

But still I tried and tried to control all of my pieces of Life and all of yours, too, and all of the whole world's, including the Christmas in August thing.

And finally--finally!-- I just got tired. Tired of the frustration neck aches. Tired of bossing around the whole wide world like an orchestra leader standing in the center of a wild mob with instruments, each playing his own song, yet with me twirling around and around, trying to force all band members to play the same song

Oh the dizziness! And do you know why it didn't work? Because from In The Beginning, it was never supposed to work.

We're all meant to play our own songs--and to God, above--the songs rise and make perfect harmonies for Him. And that's how it was supposed to be.

And since I got that? Oh, the peace of choosing to pray. The weightless calm of leaving my limited understandings in God's palms instead of dragging them with me, scraping upon sidewalks.

So let there be Christmas in August or September or even February. The whole 12 months of the year is ok, for every day is a perfect one for me to remember the birth of the lover of my soul. Doesn't matter if other folks recall something altogether different when they see the red and green wrapped candy. Nope! What matters is that I leave the bossing to God, that I love Him and that I love others who make extremely different choices than mine. And that I keep--and spread-- Peace on Earth.



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Technically, one long, lazy battle still drags on--the one where I try making Tom do what I believe he should. You'd think after 32 years that war would have ended, but rather, it's just toned way down. :)



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1 Thessalonians 4:11
"... and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you... "

Sad Town Cafe

I had to smile when Donetta commented three blog posts ago, "It ain't no sin to get the blues."

Oh yes, mostly I agree. In certain situations. But here's how I do it.

In my world, there is a place called Sad Town. And yes, sometimes I do walk to that place (which, in my head, resembles a 1920's Main Street movie set). But. I go no further than Sad Town Cafe, you know, the one on the very, very edge of town, just as you enter. I step inside, sit at a formica-topped table and order coffee and scrambled eggs and an extra plate for Self Pity who followed me there and now sits across the table with a sickly, fake-compassionate look upon his pathetic face.

And then I (we) sit there for one, maybe two--or at the very most--three days. Just me and Self Pity.

But I keep eyeing God over there at the table in the corner. Never do I take my eyes away from him. And so often he lifts his eyes from his newspaper to stare at me.

And then, when the time feels right (usually a bit late, even) I arise, gather my purse and book and then notice Self Pity must have walked away sometime in the neon-lit night.

I turn to go, walk through the door with the jingle bell, and because Sad Town Cafe lies on the very edge of town, it takes me almost no time to step right outside of the city limits. And I race back home.

But what I never, ever do anymore--but oh, how I used to-- I never, ever, upon my arrival at Sad Town, walk past the cafe to the middle of town or beyond and beyond to the end. Oh my, no. For it's dark down there and I may get lost. I may have to call out for help to whole truckloads of Christians to come find me and haul my sorry self back into the light. Or even, if I stayed in the blackness end of town long enough, I might forget there even was light at the other end... and decide to settle there in Sad Town for years. Just settle.

That one thought scares me.

So I will remain in the Light as God is and just make those occasional trips into Sad Town Cafe, in the light end, for just a day or two. But I'll not go deep into town. Not again. Not ever.

That I May Know Him

Back in 1994, God began a huge work in me. A re-working to undo and unravel the Christian Debra I proudly created for 24 years after 'getting saved' at 11.

For two years of Sunday afternoons (nearly every one) God asked me drive back to our church auditorium (I had a key), after our Sunday meal at home, and just sit with Him for hours. We'd sit together in silence there upon the chairs or lie on the carpet and just be. Together.

And during the weekdays of those years I spent hundreds of hours alone with Him at home. He 'performed surgery' on me, pulled the junk and wrong teachings and misconceptions out of my heart. Then, while lying back on my little love seat in my room, He'd heal those incisions.

For two years this went on, this and lots more just between Him and myself. Testings, corrections, hugs after failures, smiles after successes and love. He slowly became my Audience of One and always the love was thick, surrounding me like tangible light, keeping me returning to the room for more, then later, noticing I could walk in it now, everywhere.

And since 1994, because of Him, because of the work He's done on me and continues to do, I've never been the same. Everything changed and I've never wandered back to my old haunts of depression, hopelessness and from-the-soul loneliness.

Never, in all these 16 years.

Now. Some of you are wondering, "What... Is she saying I must spend all those hundreds of hours locked away with God like that? Well, wouldn't that be nice, but I certainly don't have that kind of time!"

And well, no. I'm not saying that and frankly, I don't think God is saying that to you, either.

But most likely, He is saying something.

I didn't know permanent healing until I did what the Permanent Healer asked me to do. I didn't know daily joy existed for us normal, not-saintly folks until I obeyed God's directions for me, personally.

But obedience brought about miracles. And Presence brought the type of healing which never goes away, but keeps me strong, out of dark, scary ditches and healthy enough to help others.

We get so distracted and think, "Oh! But I must help this other person right now and visit that other lady and pray for all my friends and their friends and race over there and put out that fire and lecture that neighbor about God's goodness and memorize those Bible verses and read all those New Testament chapters and stop talking so much and--

--and we end up all folded in pieces upon the floor because we never stopped long enough to obey. To be healed in Presence. And never realizing, we spend years trying to give away what we never really had, ourselves.

Oh to stop long enough to know Him for ourselves. Oh, the miracles of change awaiting.





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There is a slowing of the heart, a turning of the ear to listen, a pause accepted which can change the future.

Mornings 'Round Here

"His mercies are new every morning..."

I adore mornings so much that, often, I awake during the night to check the alarm clock. "Is it time to get up yet?" I ask myself in anticipation.

And sometimes it's only 4:30 but I'll arise anyway because I can no longer wait to begin. In the darkness, I slip into my slipper-shoes and then silently lift my robe from the hook behind the door.

I step into the lamp light of the kitchen and think, "It's morning!" And into my head pops all that that means:

Making and drinking my hot chocolate while I watch the dear people on our local news, the ones who make me laugh in between the bad and good news. Sitting with Lennon on my blanket-layered lap, scratching his ears and drinking my chocolate and then leaning back in the recliner.

Then I'll check my email, my blog and my Facebook for comments and concerns from others and I'll click upon my blogroll for your new thoughts (and be inspired). Maybe the news will still be playing or maybe by now I've got headphones over my head while listening to Joyce Meyer and learning from her on stage, even after 16 years. Usually I'm munching a bowl of Mom's Best cereal in all the anointing.

Darkness still reigns outside, but I grab my coat from our living room closet and tiptoe past the bedroom, through the kitchen then out to the back porch and down the driveway (breathing deeply of country air) and to the mailbox where Tom's newspaper waits. Then back to the house, the tiptoeing, the putting away of my coat and the paper.

Maybe I'll write here, in my blog. By now, Time is growing short so I hurry through my words (sorry). But the inspiration usually does arrive right before the cats must be fed, which I do quietly, and then straighten some rooms in more silence and then prepare Tom's before-breakfast snack, always the same; two prunes, five almonds and 1/2 cup orange juice. Good for him and he likes it, year following year.

By now Time is pouring from between my fingers and I stand at the bay windows in morning light to see if all is right with my side yard world and squeeze some grateful thoughts from my brain. Lennon sits upon my table in the windows and we both watch the early birds. "Hurry and enjoy this," I think to myself.

And then it's time to awaken Tom.

Yet, even then, my mind skips ahead to when I'll have Second Breakfast (remember that from Lord of the Rings?), which is just coffee and toast at 10:30, but so much more. That will be my coffee break, after having made Tom's oatmeal and zipping through some housework, but it's my time there in the windows. Or rather, His and mine, our time for books and scribbling notes and staring at the trees and yard and the late birds.

Morning after new morning after new morning.

No wonder I so often check that alarm clock in the night.




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Though I should be honest and add that, on the occasions when my routine gets messed with (as in, when Tom gets up way too early), I've been known to become quite the cranky little lady.

Yes, me. :)

And on yard sale mornings, Second Breakfast gets moved to afternoon. But I'm ok with that.


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Oh, and because I wrote three posts that day, you may have missed my mention about the artistically-minded documentary, Amargosa. Positively inspiring stuff (I still can't shake it. Not certain I want to.)Here's a youtube video for a peek, but the film (at Netflix instant watch) is way more dreamy.

Let me know if you watch the documentary, ok? I'd love to hear your thoughts.


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"My voice will come to you in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I send my prayer to you, and keep watch." ... Psalm 5:3


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So Everything Was Going Great Until....

As a young woman of 19 I had to settle within my heart that, if I married Tom, some year in the future we'd have to deal with something hard concerning his polio. A whisper from God, I think that was.

Thirty-two years later--yesterday--that day arrived. And even after smaller polio problems along our path, still, it was and is a shock. Another one from which to recover, another one so soon following Tom's being laid-off.

Yesterday Tom saw a specialist who--sad story very, very shortly stated--said, if he doesn't have a major surgery to replace the titanium disc in his neck with a whole other thing, well, Tom will eventually lose the use of his left arm.

Gah. He's been losing the feeling in all those fingers, feeling a tingling pain and there are more details about how the titanium disc is slipping and should have been replaced by a 'cage' 8 years ago, instead, but I'll spare you.

Oh, and Tom is left-handed, too. And our medical insurance premiums, if we don't get a different kind, will multiply by five in the middle of December (another long story there). And what kind of a job can Tom get if he has to tell them, "Oh,by the way, I'll need to take 4 to 6 months off to recover from surgery." ?

Though actually, Tom was leaning more toward finishing his business courses (online) to get a bachelor's degree, first. He's more than halfway there, but what about the timing of all this? Could he continue the courses while recuperating from surgery? (And yes, he'll be getting a second opinion.)

Or should we just go ahead with his seeking to go out on disability, which has been an option, too? A more viable option than ever after yesterday's news. Doctors and physical therapists told Tom for years they'd do all they could to help with that, for he deserves it.

Gah. We'll need a disability advocate and a few other professionals to walk us through this field of land mines. But even there, we'll still need most to hear from God--darn closely, dare I say? For really, this does all feel like, "One wrong move and you'll wreck the course of the whole rest of your lives." Always there's that money-enough-for-the-future factor. You know, that annoying thing. That, and the trusting-God-for-money factor, also.

Maybe I should get a job, something more in the self-employment field though, for who would give me whole days off to sit in hospitals waiting for Tom during appointments or surgeries or who would care for him at recovery times? Or I guess I should start writing essays and devotions for checks in the mail. Maybe it's time for all that, though (I hate to say this) writing for money makes me sigh. I just don't wanna. (But we can't always do what we want, I realize that.) Even babysitting sounds better to me than writing for income. (I know, I know, I know... no lectures please.)

I knew there was too much Grace floating around our house lately. Just knew it.

But of course, I'm grateful she's still here in the midst of what feels like a field of land mines. We need her, we need God and His ultimate wisdom more than ever. And we also need your prayers. We so don't want to mess this all up, not only for ourselves, but for you who watch us through this blog. More than ever, we want to face this with godly courage, not fearful whining.

We'll get through this, of course. But it does get tiring waiting for the shock to wear off so we can smile again and think and listen more clearly.




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Forgive me, please, if you start seeing holes in this blog. If I disappear now and again. For if I must start writing essays, etc. for money (sigh) I'll need some time off even though I'd much, much rather be here with you.

Desert Life Reminders

I remember when I lived in the Nevada desert and was one depressed cookie.

Some days I drove to the supermarket--not because I needed to buy anything--but with the single hope that someone would smile at me. I dared to dream they might even say, "Hello."

And so I'd drive to the store, pull out a shopping cart and wander the aisles trying to collect smiles and hellos. Then, after some smiles, I'd drive through the streets back home, thinking, "Hmm... the sun seems to be shining brighter now! And I feel better."

Of course, it wasn't ideal that I relied upon people to fix me, to zap away my loneliness but, at that time, that's all I could think of.

Hence, that's why you won't read in my blog that Facebook is shallow.

Huh?

I mean, when I read my friends' status reports, whether they are glad or sad ones, or prayer requests or photos (etc.), I recall my depression years and how I yearned for something like Facebook out there in the desert. Oh, the way I would have appreciated the simple clicks of 'like'! The kind comments about my ideas or photos and all the folks who would have written that they were praying for me after I shared a request would have thrilled my brain.

I sooo needed to be listened to back then, even from within a computer screen. Just some tiny nods at Facebook (had there been a Facebook), would have brought light to my clouds-like-ink afternoons.

Again, God had something much higher for me ahead than such a desperate reliance upon people. But until I got there, I needed what I needed. And I needed to survive until I found that deeper place in God.

And now, in 2010, I feel that some of my Facebook friends are standing upon my long ago footprints in the sand where I stood in 1989. And only a few feet ahead is the bridge which will carry them over to where God makes Himself so darn obvious (when we become less so), there in the midst of delight. On the other side.

But they have a few more hours, a few more yards left to walk until they reach that bridge. So if by clicking 'like' or writing, "I will pray" or just telling them I spent time reading their words, maybe my listening will nudge them closer to the bridge. Will keep them on the road, out of dark ditches, until they find The Answer for themselves.

That's huge. And not shallow at all.





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Remembering this also slows me down when I'm zooming my cart through grocery aisles. Someone there just may need me to smile at them.


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"He must increase, I must decrease."

I'm Thinking My Todays Matter

I'm trying to live Life so that I won't be embarrassed when I reach Heaven.

You know those tv commercials where, after settling for a lesser choice, people say, "Oh! I could have had a V8!"?

Well, in Heaven, when God walks over to me all huge and bright and glorious, I so don't want to whimper, "Oh! I could have had a remarkable life!"

"Oh! I could have known your peace rather than my misery!"

"Oh! I could have had a running conversation with you. You could have been my best friend!"

"I could have lived wrapped in your joy rather than my problems."

"I could have known you better and worried less. Much less."

"I could have learned from you how to love people."

"I could have let you heal me from Life's hurts."

"I could have listened for your answers or quietly trusted you (and moved on) when the answers just weren't there."

Well, you get it.

I'm glad of something today: I'm still here. And God is still giving me chances to know Him--and be changed. And that those, "I could have regrets" are fading as the years do.

I so desire that the move from the heaven within me to the Heaven above won't be such a jarring, oh-the-regrets transition, but rather, more like walking from a lamp-lit room to one which gleams like the sun.



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"The kingdom of God is within you." ... Luke 17:21

Inspiration For Others Of You Artist Types

Oh, the inspiration!

Tom and I just now finished watching the documentary, Amargosa.

Wow. You've got to love a 1960's ballet dancer who moves to a desert town (pop. 10, at least as of 1999) from NYC, leases the abandoned theater and soon paints her own audience upon the walls. And then dances upon the stage for the next forty years and inspires all who visit her theater in literally the middle of nowhere, also known as Death Valley Junction.

To get just a taste of what we saw, here's a youtube video.

We watched Amargosa on the instant view thingamajig at Netflix. My only quibble was with the part about the residing ghosts, but it was easy to skip that chapter.

No bad language, no s-e-x, just lots and lots of artistic inspiration to do whatever God has called you to do. To do it faithfully, with joy, year after year, with or without an audience.

At least, I came away with all that.



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"Just do it."

Couponing Grace Returns

Living in Opposite World is amazing. So is Grace, of course, but you already knew that.

Since I recovered from the shock of Tom's losing his job, these have been the Best of Times. See? Opposite World stuff. I think you're supposed to be miserable when your main income source disappears, right?

Back in 1995, I led two Saturday homemaking seminars at our church. A couple other women and I shared how to organize your home and we gave ideas for decorating, letter-writing and how to save money with coupons and refunding, etc.

The oddest thing, ever, happened while I spoke about the coupons. There I was, standing beside my display of items I'd bought cheaply at CVS, using coupons, and explaining how refunding worked, when mysteriously! All my years of coupon anointing, all the excitement of saving money this way, drained down, down into my shoes.

It felt like a balloon deflated within me. In one moment, after fifteen years of saving money with this method, coupons became BOR-ing. Yet I had to finish my rehearsed little speech anyway. Rough and, again, odd.

And afterward? Well, in the fifteen years since, I mailed maybe only five (ten?) refund offers and used coupons at the market just sort-of willy-nilly, when I felt like it or could remember to bring some along.

Mostly, Couponing Grace drained away into an abyss back there in 1995.

But guess what? She's BAAAaack.

You are now reading the blog of a Coupon Queen returned. Coupon Grace lives inside my head again because, well, she knows I need her. Now's the time for ol' Debra to do her part so to stretch the family finances.

The coupon anointing returned three weeks ago, making the whole deal a pleasure, as when I was a young Mrs. in my 20's and 30's. And now, wow! We coupon grannies have it way easier than we did in the 1980's. If we need a coupon for Yogi's Yummy Yogurt, we can just Google that, adding the word 'coupons' and voila! Sometimes there will appear a coupon just asking to be printed and whisked away to the supermarket. Even coupons for healthy food. Organic stuff, also.

Love that. Lots easier than in the Wild West Days of couponing. Trust me.

Don't you just love Grace? You can rely on her. She knows when to stay, when to leave and gives the clearest of directions just by being there--or by being gone.

She should design road maps on the side. :)




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Want to share your favorite coupon website?

The (Not So) Great Weekend Blog Search

So this weekend I discovered an online list of perhaps one-hundred Christian women's blogs. I was excited--oh, the potential! Some new blogs for my blogroll.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday, hours and hours later, I did not add one single blog to my sidebar. Honest, I tried to give each blog a chance. I read five or more posts from 70 blogs, often staying longer than that.

And ok. I confess I'm probably a blog snob.

But oh dear... all the sad Christian women out there! Sad because their own plans had died along the road since their teenage-dreamy days or their weddings or the births of their children. Oh, the disappointment which now colors their days with brown or grey hopelessness.

In other blogs, posts never dived beneath the surface. Instead, whole paragraphs said: "Today I did the laundry. After that I went grocery shopping. I came home and folded towels. Made dinner. Went to bed." Miles and miles of that.

Some of the blogs had shut down, like ghost towns. Each final post usually stated forms of this depressing sentence: "I just don't have anything to write about anymore."

Other bloggers wrote the same ol' 'churchese' I've heard since the 1960's. I mean, yes! Tell me the old, old story, but please, can you share it a new way? And share what God told you, rather than always sharing what He told others?

I mean, look at Ann Voskamp. Nearly everyone adores her blog and probably for myriad reasons. I'm certain of one of those: You never know ahead what will greet you there. Her words won't parrot her pastor's, her women's small group leader or what she heard in Sunday School whole decades ago as a child. God gives it to her fresh.

Ann V. is plugged-in. You can tell.

(And yes, Ann also has a writing gift, but even without that, you know she would never go all surface talk on us week after week.)

Oh my, God's mercies and truths really are new every morning! And if only each of us Christian women would lean our ears so close to His heart, well, maybe we'd start believing His thoughts rather than our own negative, whiny, discouraged ones. Maybe we'd have fresh hope and new words to blog every new morning ... or afternoon or night.

And perhaps we'd be excited to live in these oh-so-challenging days, rather than wish they were over so we could escape to Heaven.

God needs warriors with fresh vision and tons of hope and courage to spread across this world. And I feel He's aching to use us, Christian women bloggers, to spread all that, everywhere. With newness.

Oh, that we all would stay plugged-in.




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I think she says it better: Six Things Every Christian Blogger Needs to Know


"Sing unto God a new song, for He has done marvelous things. His right hand and His holy arm have gotten Him the victory." ... Psalm 98:1


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John 14:27
"... Do not let your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. [Stop allowing yourselves to be agitated and disturbed; and do not permit yourselves to be fearful and intimidated and cowardly and unsettled.]" ... Amplified

My Nighttime Dreams

Okay, my last few posts have been a bit heavy, though with issues which I had to face and deal with before I found such daily joy. But still, they've been a tad heavy.

So here's lightness, a sort of respite for you:

There are people living inside my head.

No, really.

When I began this blog six long years ago, my nightly dreams changed to, basically, only one kind. And all these years later? They're still the same ol,' same ol' kind. Not boring, but nice, actually. Just, well, predictable.

I can tell you what I will dream about tonight. Crowds of people will be walking around. Some of them I met as a child, a teen or as a young wife, mother or middle-aged whatever-I-am-at-this-moment. Others I've never, ever met--my head makes them up, but they feel quite real (which is either clever of my head or kinda odd).

Always, these crowds and I wander through churches, schools, malls, my house or someone else's really, really large home. And what do we all do? Well, nothing, exactly. We stand around, sometimes with snack plates, and talk to one another a bit. I like it best when those people let me chatter about Jesus, but that only happens sometimes.

Or we stand around and watch everybody else chatting.

Or sometimes the big drama of the night will be that so-and-so is trying to find his mother in the crowd and have we seen her? So we point to where mother is standing and then so-and-so walks over and stands by her. And he becomes part of another conversing circle.

And that's about as exciting as it gets.

But always, it's the myriad people, people everywhere that never varies. And usually it's nighttime there with lots of artificial light from overhead lamps. And the rooms are, well, large.

Thousands and thousands of dreams where nothing much happens, just pleasantness. Fellowship. Just whole crowds calmly standing or sitting around, together. Smiling, laughing, sharing, hugging.

And in a way, those dreams of mine feel like tiny pre-Heaven glimpses, though without the extreme joy. But there's that light and that comradeship and the reunions! All those reunions night after night upon my pillow.

A little like Heaven might someday be, I think. Heaven in calm mode,ok. And without Jesus standing in the middle of the room, making everything extremely glorious, making our conversations about Him remarkable. But still, these glimples feel quite nice in the meantime. While I'm waiting for the Real Thing.

Of Needing to Leave the Parade

It's scary (and kinda funny-sad, too) when our control issues try dressing-up as Holiness for a big parade, or something.

Examples?

Some people feel God, in their quiet time, whispered, "Always pray on your knees." And well, suddenly, poof! A goal got birthed. A fiery, life-consuming campaign to get every Christian in their church, family and online neighborhood to knee-pray began.

But these campaigners forget that God simply asked them, personally, to pray on their knees. For a time, a season and with a purpose--as an act of obedience unto Him.

But oh dear. It became huge, complicated, vocal and very, very public.

This type of thing happens a lot.

In quietness God asks us to take up our cross and follow Him. In meekness. But oh dear, we turn it into a cross-bearing parade, complete with confetti, signs and enough crowds to view the grimacing pain upon our face.

God asks us to use a pen instead of a keyboard, meet in a coffee shop instead of a chat room, adopt needy children, give offerings to local missions, not foreign ones. So we do. We obey. But only after we gather an audience and preach that God is telling them the exact same details.

Suddenly there becomes only one way to obey God. Guess whose?

And we crazily believe it all to be holy, when really, it's kinda pathetic and all about dress-up. Dressing-up our control issues to appear like holiness.

We've all done it. At least once (but probably way, way more). For we're all humans in this parade of Life.

Hence the need to police ourselves, as officers on horses removing anything, anyone, unruly and unwelcome from the parade. And to ask God to police us, to place a watch upon our lips and our hearts, as well. To change our heart into one which loves most to serve that adored audience of One.



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And yes, God does ask us sometimes to publicly preach and teach and lead others in a specific cause, a specific way (the walls of Jericho, anyone?). This post is not about those times.

Just thought I'd mention that. :)

Of Relevancy

"Relevant: having direct bearing on the matter in hand; pertinent."


Years ago, a Sunday School teacher in our church took up a new cause: he declared we should all use only the King James version of the Bible. Just the original version, not any updated KJ Bibles, either. Everybody, all the time.

He got pretty obnoxious about it and after some weeks I asked him, "You're expecting even teenagers to read only the King James, at home, during their quiet time, alone?"

"Yes."

"But there are many difficult passages! They'd have to read it with a dictionary beside them."

"So where's the problem? Let them use a dictionary then."

Sigh.

And now often I see people online saying they've decided paper-and-pen letter writing, phone calls and actual same-room contact are the only forms of real communication. And how online technology has killed true, personal intimacy.

("Danger, danger, Will Robinson! In-the-box thinking!") :)

Actually, I'm writing more "letters" than ever. You should see the thousands of emails in my 'sent folder.' You probably have thousands in yours, too.

I grew-up in churches and around folks who always wished to move backward. New ideas and modern ways of doing things were never as good as the old ways and old days. So they just ignored anything unfamiliar and held onto their ancient methods.

That's how churches die, you know.

From the time I was 16 until I was 36 (or so) I wrote hundreds of pen-and-paper letters each year (sometimes more than 1,000). Honey, I was one passionate snail-mail correspondent. But at age 40 I went online, wrote hundreds of emails yearly, instead--and never glanced back.

Often I pray for relevancy.

Nobody will ever convince this modern world to return to old-fashioned letter writing (barring a historical-sized sabotage of all things computer-related). We're in this technological world too deep. Facebook and Twitter-style communication will thrive, probably evolving to something else in the future.

I've faced that. So what remains is for me to discover ways to stay relevant in other peoples' lives. To use email and Facebook (etc.) as the amazing tools of communication which they can be. God certainly isn't telling me to evolve backward in my communication, but rather, He asks me to move forward as He does. In Love. Real love is all about relevancy--it reaches and stretches so to care best for others. To 'when in Rome, do as the Romans do' if only to win a few of those Romans.

Relevancy always flows, always moves, always discover new ways to adapt to others rather than making others adapt to it. And Love finds the most relevant way to share this one most vital message: Jesus loves me this I know.

What remains is for me to follow that Love. With relevance.



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If you enjoy old-fashioned pen and paper correspondence, more power to you! I do still mail the occasional letter, though I most often type them. Of course, letter-writing purists would cry foul about that, but then, those purists don't have to decipher my handwriting. :)



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"Anything is what I make of it."

Of Validation

Hmmm... I so hope I strike the right balance with this one.

A friend at Facebook shared this youtube video. You've probably seen it. It's the one where people in the parking garage go to get their ticket validated, but the guy behind the desk validates the people, instead. He tells them they look marvelous. They're under-appreciated by other folks. They wear stylish clothes, are often misunderstood and are a terrific help to society. Soon a line forms all the way out to the street, a line of people desperate for validation. The video proceeds from there.

A cute idea, an uplifting one. Made me smile.

But. It makes me sad, too. Putting such power into the hands of other people! The power of how I feel about myself. Brrr..

It reminds me of, oh, around 24 years ago when I felt I was just a mom of a six-year-old, nothing else, starving for validation from other people. In fact, one morning I sat slumped on the couch watching Mr. Rogers and when he looked into the camera and said, "You are special. I like you just the way you are," well, I cried.

Such was my desperation.

Thank-goodness, thank God, all that drama feels like a million years ago and a whole other person ago, too. Why? Because now I get my validation from God. Now He tells me I did a great job and that He appreciates my obedience. My affection. He tells me I'm special.

It's rather like this Bible verse:

"But David encouraged himself in the Lord." I Samuel 30:6

I blogged about that verse before, but really, my world changed when I learned to encourage myself in God. When I responded to hard times by running to the Throne rather than to the phone (as my favorite teacher says). Now, everything looks and feels brighter--and again--thank God that the desperate neediness is gone.

Yet of course there's this: We all do still need to encourage one another. God tells us to be kind, encouraging folks and to put others before ourselves. In fact, our words can sometimes form a bridge between a person's self-hatred and self-acceptance until they're able to call to God for help, themselves. I get that. And I like to think He encourages others through me, through this blog, even.

But what do I value even more? I love to teach others how to encourage themselves in God, how to unearth their worth and value in Him, not through pats on the backs from mere (highly changeable) mortals. Mortals who can just as easily, if we allow them, destroy what they built days or months before.

And as for me and my mental health? I will go to God for my major source of validation. He's always there, rather like that guy behind the desk in that youtube video, but 24/7. Daytime, nighttime, doesn't matter. And He'll tell me the truth, which is more vital than made-up-stuff just to make me feel better. He'll be kind, though.

I don't wish to hand over that type of power to other fallible, often-too-busy-for-me people, but rather, only to God. I need His kind of validation most.



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"In Christ alone
I place my trust
And find my glory in the power of the cross
In every victory
Let it be said of me
My source of strength
My source of hope
Is Christ alone." ... Lyrics by Stuart Townend and Keith Getty

A Link While I'm Un-Procrastinating

Busy, busy this morning doing what I've procrastinated, whispering my mantra, "Just do it. Just do it." I must take the occasional day like this so to lighten the burden inside my head. You know, to make all the nagging voices go away ("You really should have _____ today." " You've put off writing that email for two weeks!" "Have you seen that ring around the bathtub?")

I may be back here later today, but in the meantime, here is a sweet link for you: Ideas For Reusing Canning Jars. I think you'll enjoy the ideas and the photos.

I'll be back.

From Coveting To Creating

So did you notice that huge (amazing/mysterious/awesome)house above?

And check out this one:



Where I live, those kinds of houses are everywhere. E-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. And ohhh, the temptations, the thoughts which swirl 'round inside my head when I drive past them:

"Ohhhhh! I want it. I want it bad."
"I could be so happy in that house."
"I neeeeeeed a house like that."

You know.

But thankfully, the older and wiser I become--although those above thoughts still do zip into my head--these thoughts also pop into my brain:

"Wow. What it must cost to heat that place!"
"Wow. What stamina it must require to clean that place."
"Wow. The repairs on that house--and all that yard work--would take everything we've got. Our whole souls, practically."

Trust me--I'm grateful for those thoughts, for they balance the initial, goosebumpy, coveting ones. And oh, how one needs balance and wisdom when one is talking houses, for houses are such a huge, time-and-money-consuming part of our lives.

But rather than just slapping my hand and saying, "No, Debra. Mustn't want what you cannot have. Mustn't crave that," I try to keep it all at a playful level. A dreamy, just-imagine-the-fun-parts level. How would I decorate the many rooms inside that huge house? How would I feel while living there? How would I make my guests feel comfortable? What kinds of meals would I cook in the kitchen? What kinds of games or activities would we do there?"

I like to imagine all that, and then, bring the ideas back to Earth--and back to my own house. Downsized, ok, but still in a creative mode. How many of those ideas could I apply to my own (small, simple) house? How can I richly decorate today, even without money? How can I think differently about my own space? My own yard?

The game, the dreams, become more enjoyable that way--and within reach. To go from coveting to creating is, as Martha would say, a Good Thing.

How Newness Keeps Me Writing

"... so that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glorious [power] of the Father, so we too might [habitually] live and behave in newness of life." ... Romans 6:4

Now, you all know how I adore old-fashioned stuff. Practically my whole blog is dedicated to old-fashioned.

And yet, oh my, I do love the newness thing, too, as mentioned in the above verse. Newness of life! And the way God's mercies are new every morning.

That kind of new fascinates me. The God kind of newness keeps my blog going year after blogging year. Everyday is an opportunity to learn new ways to live and think and be, to find new methods for decorating, saving money and writing. New days in which to treat people better and to teach them what God's been teaching me.

"Behold, He makes all things new."

New, new, newness of life. Brand new. Every morning, afternoon, evening. Always, there's something new to write about--but only if I'm listening and keeping myself unstuck and my neck not twisting to the back, but rather, the front, so my eyes can look ahead and my ears can listen for what will be new tomorrow.





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"Guard your heart with all diligence for out of it flows the issues of Life." ... Proverbs 4:23



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I mentioned my grandfather yesterday on his 105th birthday and here is my favorite picture of him and my grandmother. I've shared it before, but well, I never tire of it:

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And I really love my autumnal photo at the top of this post. It seems to be moving (yes, it was taken from our moving car) and the tree on the right is raising his arm, as though he's trying to speak. It's like a frame from Disney's Fantasia, or something. Well, to me it's like that. Enlarge it and see what you think. :)

The Blogs I Love

I'm not sure why, but usually on Sundays you'll find me searching for new blogs. I do love a new good blog discovery. It's like finding a beautiful book in amongst dusty old (boring) volumes in a thrift shop.

So this morning during my gift of an extra hour, I discovered a Top Ten List of Christian Blogs. I clicked on most of the links, read snippets and felt, well, mostly sorry.

I don't know. There was so much traditional stuff, you know, the rules I've heard preached since the 1960's. And complication. Big words. And one hugely popular blogger said he'd killed his blog without meaning to. Another was wondering why, after doing things right, God hadn't blessed her like He'd promised.

Those were the good blogs.

And you know what I did? I raced back here, breathing hard, almost. To my own blog. To all of you, my friends, in my sidebar. And I felt safe and happy and grateful. And free.

Oh, what freedom when you really know God and He really knows you because you stopped running from Him. When you cease relying on the rules and lost-their-life-decades-ago traditions to save you. When you stop praying for everyone else to start behaving and, instead, you pray that God will help you behave, no matter what that entails.

And you love, love, love and enjoy, enjoy, enjoy. Life. People. And most of all, God.

I want most to find those authors. The free and enjoying ones.

Have any to recommend? Please leave their addresses in my comment box, ok? Always I'm searching for more blogs, more friends to add to my sidebar so they'll be waiting here for me when I return, huffing, from scary, oh-too-familiar territory.

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One of my very favorite things? I love listening to her playlist while I surf the Net or even while I clean the house. I've never before met anyone who has the exact same taste in music that I do. It's uncanny. And it's a delight.




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Now, part of me is hesitating to recommend this documentary. It's not for everyone, ok? Not. For. Everyone. But Tom and I watched In The Realms of The Unreal yesterday (on instant view through Netflix) and I came away more inspired than I've felt in, well, maybe years. Inspired to faithfully do what God has called me to do, all my distractions be darned.

Er hem. It also reminded me of why God so passionately says that it would be better for someone to never have been born rather than to have damaged a child. Henry Darger had a hurtful childhood--and I believe--he never recovered from it.

Anyway, here's the YouTube video of the preview of In The Realms of The Unreal. Some of you won't like this documentary, ok? But others of you, especially you artist types? It will inspire your socks off, too. And it's for you that I'm even mentioning this.



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My grandfather would have turned 105 today. Wow. He passed away 28 years ago, but I still miss him. The only grandfather I ever knew, he was the sweetest one ever upon Earth.

Book Gifts From God & Two Great Links

One of my first thoughts when Tom was downsized?

"Drats. No more ordering books online. I'll just have to borrow/request them from the library."

And ok, that's not sooo bad, especially when you have an adorable tiny library in your adorable tiny town. But I just don't get down there much (I'm not sure why). Yet I was willing to make changes, return to my old way of reading books--just borrowing, not keeping.

But then God came along. More than ever since August 31st (D Day around our house), He's led me to sales with perfect books at perfect prices. More often than before D Day, even.

See the book presents He gave me yesterday?:



Plus one more, a back-to-the-land/wilderness book(!) called Arctic Daughter by Jean Aspen (NancyR--do you have that one? Look it up if you don't, ok?) :)

All seven books cost me just $3.50, total. Combined. That's less than the price of shipping on one book from amazon.com. And just driving down to the library a few times to pick up these books which, most likely, I'd have to request through the inter-library loan, would cost that much in gas.

So I am blessed and God keeps blessing me, but only when I rely on Him for my needs and wants and not when I huff and puff and force and pry open and make things happen from plans and schemes from my own head.

I am blessed when I do not lead, but rather, when I follow. He always knows exactly where the best books, friends, blogs, churches, stores, sales, jobs, houses, etc., are waiting for me.


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At the Youngstown library book sale, I stood at the table and thumbed through the gorgeous 'children's book', A Year Is A Window, and gasped at the lovely, zip-you-to-your-childhood artwork. I thought, "Oh! These drawings are like those calendars from Woman's Day magazine, the ones I've lost over the years but wished I could find again." And later, in the car, I read that yes! Erik Blegvad's amazing illustrations first appeared in a 1963 issue of Woman's Day Magazine. Alas.

You remember those little calendar booklets, right?

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Oh! Just found this: Ten Habits of Happy Moms. Loved it. Please don't miss this if you have small children at home.


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And if you dream of farming, you'll love this post describing Jenna's farm morning.


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Great listeners make great followers.


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Of Communication

Something so odd happened when Tom and I first arrived at this old farm.

Our communication got broken in the move (!) I mean, married 30 years, yet suddenly, we couldn't even understand what each other was saying.

I told Tom, "How about if you store that box in the barn closet."

"You mean in the chicken coop?"

"No. In the barn closet."

"Where's that?"

"Gah! It's that other little room inside the barn. The only other room in there. Downstairs, anyway."

"Oh. You mean that storage room in the back."

Multiply that by 600 other such conversations.

We'd practically stare at each other and not even understand what the other person was mouthing. And this after whole decades of marriage!

I think this new place with the huge yard did it, the stress of moving, period, plus all the things one must do when one moves--and doing all that at mid-life. We used to move all the time--when we were young. Big difference there, too.

So. We began naming everything. We sat at our table and gave all the areas of the barn, the yard and even the rooms of the house specific names. A terrific idea, that one.

We also slowed our brains, hands and bodies. We stopped trying to create a whole new world in, like, six days. Only God can do that.

Re-communicating is what I'm calling it. Learning how to speak differently in a different phase of Life.

It's a keen idea for friendships, also. Like, if I receive an email from a friend which sounds as though she's mad at (innocent little ol') me, well, I ask her about that. I could sit at my computer for a month, muttering, "Just what did she mean by that?! And here I've always been so nice to her!" But instead, I ask her about her words. Kindly.

Or if she's not emailed me in ages, rather than assume she's too busy for friendship with (poor, misunderstood) me, I email her and ask if everything's ok over her way. Perhaps her life is falling apart, too sad to even write about.

It's not always about me. I'm still learning that.

Life becomes sweeter when, actually, we make it all about others and do what we can to make their lives easier. Even if it means speaking and doing things a whole other way.



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And here's a hilarious post by Judy about another miscommunication.

Of Pumpkins and Krill Oil

Wow. My garden gave me 16 pumpkins this year. Definitely a record, for last year I grew just ten, though I was thrilled with that since I'd not grown pumpkins in, oh, 17 years or so. That's also the last time I made my own pumpkin puree for pies, but guess what I'll be doing again soon?


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Once again I must voice my praises of krill oil. Oh. My. Goodness. How wonderful to remember what a full night's sleep feels like! How marvelous to awaken at 3:00 a.m. and feel sooo tired rather than oh-so-awake.

In the past four months I've slept better than I have the past four years. Honest. And on the rare occasion when I awaken around 2 a.m. (because most likely I ignored my conscience and ate something I ought not have) I just get up, take another krill oil--counting it as my daytime one(I take two each 24 hours)--and fall back to sleep soon.

I've still yet to find a better price than I do at VitaCost online. We buy the 300 softgel bottle (1,000 mg.'s) and they're shipped to my mailbox at the speed of light (nearly). And they're always rewarding us with some kind of reduced price offer.

So I highly recommend both krill oil and VitaCost. Not only am I sleeping better, but my memory is much-improved, too. Thank-goodness (was getting worried there for awhile). And it would improve even more if I'd get out and walk around the block like I used to kinda-daily in the burbs. Fresh air and exercise are supposed to help with the ol' memory as well. I do ramble around our pasture and meadow a bit, but that's not quite enough (I'd be too self-conscious to walk in circles and circles around each one) and Tom's been mowing the lawn more frequently (so I'm mowing less--and loving my yard and house more), not that I'm complaining about that, certainly! I just need to push myself into getting out more.


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Tom is meeting with an unemployment counselor today. He's thinking perhaps he'll look into finishing his online courses from Franklin Univ. for his bachelor degree in computer science. We shall see what we shall see. :)

Of Thinking About Pennies And Such

Woo hoo! Election Day is over. And so are the political commercials.


Hallelujah. :)


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Oh, did you read what NancyR wrote in my comment box last time regarding my slave wages from Opinion Outpost?

"The $6.80 might seem like a small amount, but considering the wonderful bargains you find at local estate and yard sales, who knows what treasures you will be able to purchase with that money?"


Oh wow. She is so right! I mean, just think... In the past, with $6.80 I bought all this:



And for another $6.80, I bought the head vases:

.... along with the clock:

I bought all of this for that same amount (except for the teapot):



And for another $6.80 I bought the chickens, the soap dish and soap:

Plus the clock and the phone:




And I could even sell this stuff on Craig's List if I needed to for additional money in my apron pocket.

So thanks, Nancy, for that perspective. I'm gonna remember that.


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Speaking of Nancy, I emailed her yesterday that I'm one of those people who thrives on certain challenges. I mean, Tom and I have always lived in small houses, but rather than pine away for a money-gulping monstrosity, I welcome the challenge of making a little home feel larger. I'm brainstorming and seeking clever places for all our junk, er, everything. And when I have it (Life) too good, too easy, I actually feel like I'm cheating, being happy with what anybody could.

I even enjoy cooking something from what appears like an empty cupboard or by using, say, something unconventional like a grandfather clock in which to stack my books or using coupons and myriad little ideas so to save money.

Those kinds of challenges make me feel, well, awake. Excited to get out of bed in the mornings so I can think, make-do and create all afternoon.

And perhaps that's why I've enjoyed these joblessness months way more than a normal person should. That, and the way that God continues to bless us so openly with joy and tons of visits from Grace.


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And speaking of blessings, a huge thanks to the three of you who submitted your email addresses for me to pass along to Opinion Outpost! That blessed my socks off--totally. Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you.

Of Voting and Opinion Outpost

Oh joy. Voting Day.

Bleh.

I know, I know. I should be more excited about being able to exercise my right to vote (blah, civic duty, blah, blah), but well, this is one area in which I am no Pollyanna. Basically I feel that when Tom and I hobble over to the voting place today we'll just be picking through a minefield on paper, as in, choosing the lesser of two evils in each case.

(I know, I know. Please, no lectures.)

But I also know that I can't count on any of these people to save us in the ways only God can... in the ways only some good old-fashioned repentance and heart-changes could. But yes, I should go and vote anyway. I get that.

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Yesterday was incredible. Sunny and around 45 breezy degrees and I had to smile when I saw Naomi's laundry hanging on the line outside. I had Andy Williams wafting through the house and Naomi cleaned and vacuumed her 'apartment' upstairs and there was soup simmering on the stove while Tom thinned some branches outside in the 'back 40.' And I even rearranged the porch so that I could sit at the table out there in the sunny corner this winter occasionally and Andy Williams kept singing while I browsed through my retro What's For Dinner Cookbook and so many of you wrote such kind (and witty) things about my picture, below.

As I said. Incredible.

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Oh, guess what? I'm making slave wages online. It's great. I signed up with Opinion Outpost a couple weeks ago and have made a whopping $6.80. But hey, it's easy money, though the surveys tend to be, well, BORing. But, well, it's something.

Want to help me make more money as well as some possibly for yourself? Just send me your email address either in my comment box or at GladOne4@yahoo.com. I'll submit your address to Opinion Outpost and they'll give me extra points which equals extra $$ for me if you do one survey.

Don't worry--they're legit. Here's a good article (and I checked them out thoroughly before I signed up). They won't send you spam if I submit your address, either, just one email. I like earning pocket change this way while I'm looking into other more profitable things for the future.

Just some thoughts on this oh-so-chilly November morning... but we're due for more sun today so hooray!