Where You'll Find Me

When you live in snow country, oh my, your heart spills over with gladness when Springtime arrives. There's no 'oh-hum it's Spring again'. Rather, it's like a weeks' long celebratory party that you survived another Winter gone.

And wow, the anticipation of many snow-free weeks ahead!

What a delight to putter amongst the forget-me-nots, clean out flower beds and spread blood meal to keep the squirrels from ruining these efforts. Yet because I'm so out-of-shape, there's tons of sit-down-gardening going on and a nearly-constant repeating of the mantras which nudge me when the soft red couch tempts me, instead--


"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" ...and...

"Inch by inch, anything's a cinch."


These become my Springtime song and slowly, my yard--rather than looking like a brown dead-leaf graveyard--begins to resemble something invitingly sweet. How glorious to aid this little suburb plot in returning to life another Spring. 

And may I not resent the hassle of Winter past, but rather, forgive and let it go. And now allow a greater appreciation to seep through my Springtime-ready veins and heart. 

(Really, the older I become, the more I realize how heavy the Past can get when I carry it upon my shoulders. And I go nowhere of value with the extra load.)



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And in honor of Springtime, here's something fun. (I always intend to do a ton of these types of ideas each year, but usually consider myself blessed if I do two) --

15 Vegetables You Didn't Know You Could Eat and Grow Again



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But while waiting for these incredible yard days, I watched a few shows you may like.

For those who enjoy my quirky Netflix documentary recommendations--

Harry and Snowman. Oh my goodness. I watched it twice on Saturday, once alone and then with Tom, and both times with a great big sentimental lump in my throat. Loved, loved this.  (Be sure to click on 'trailer' after clicking on that link.)

Another one? The Great Alone. Fascinating stuff, especially if you, like me, never tire of watching shows regarding Alaska and/or the Iditarod. Tom and I super-enjoyed this one, also.

Don't have Netflix? You can watch a ton of free Cesar 911 episodes here. What a joy for even this kinda-not-a-dog-person to watch someone doing exactly what God created him to do! I never tire of watching any of Cesar's shows. Oh, all that wisdom and common sense.

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Transition Times. Oh Dear.

Transition--a movement, development, or evolution from one form, stage, or style to another: change.

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So in the last scene of a House Hunter's episode, the new Palm Springs homeowners sat beside a gorgeous condo pool which gleamed with sunshine, clinking their drinks together and laughing.

I looked over at Tom and said, "Now that's the life for me! Let's move to Palm Springs, ok? It seems so retro, too, and oh my goodness, I'm so tired of these Winters."

Tom said, "Sure! Let's start packing."

Every single March I dream about moving to warm places where Winter is only a quick, mild inconvenience. 

This Palm Springs dream, though, was flawed since it's in California (no offense to my dear readers who live there). But been there, done that. So I Googled, "places similar to Palm Springs" and yes! Scottsdale, AZ popped up. I saw awesome photos (oh, those palm trees and vintage main street) and checked out their reasonable condo prices. 

Sign. Me. Up.

Especially when, later, I stepped outside to another 50 (or so) twigs downed from our last snow-like-wet-concrete storm--

 Our April Friday.

*&^%$#@ twigs. This year I've picked up hundreds and ugh, my poor ol' back.

Oh, these last few transition weeks of Winter to Spring! If I'd have obeyed my end-of-Winter feelings years ago, we'd certainly not be still living here. Uh, no.

But God knows my heart wants to obey Him rather than my feelings. So here I still am, 24 years later, in Buffalo, choosing contentment and having a marvelous, peaceful time in all but March and ok, usually February, also.

Like yesterday. I got reacquainted with sitting on the front porch and reading in the morning sun. "So this is what it feels like to sit outside!" I told myself, snuggling down further in our wicker chair. And smiling like a Cheshire cat.

Oh, the luxury of a simple warm, sunny day.

The waiting, the transition times are seldom comfortable, right? And actually, since last month I've been dealing with a different transition, one of those mysterious kinds where you know God wants something different for you, but you've not a clue as to what.

So as with my warmer place dreams, I've been slowing down, trying to listen to God rather than my feelings, even though, Honey, my feelings speak much louder. And I've been reminding myself not to run, but to stand.

This is where ones self-discipline and listening must remain stronger than her feelings to throw up her hands and just start grabbing at any ol' opportunity so to ease the discomfort of waiting. 

I'd hate to take a wrong turn. You know, end up where God didn't want me, even if it did appear to be heavenly and warm. No place, no opportunity is right if it wasn't first birthed from God's own heart.

Not even Arizona.  😏

“Change is difficult, but it can be managed when you stay aware of the power of your choices, even if it’s simply your attitude.” 
― Michael Thomas Sunnarborg

“Transition isn't pretty, but stagnation is hideous.” 
― Nikki Rowe

"Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content."   ... Philippians 4:11

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Where's Ol' Debra Been?

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."   ... Isaiah 26:3


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Anyway. I so needed a Daily Thoughts Make-Over. Really, all the political negativity and bad behavior of regular folks, especially, began to form daily grey clouds inside my head.

I didn't like that.

So I did as Joyce Meyer says, "If you don't want to think about something, choose to think about something else." Imagine!

And well, here are a few of my "something else's":


Listening more often to good teaching, meditating on the right stuff, spending more quiet time with God.
Watching old tv shows like Perry Mason and Leave It To Beaver.
Reading vintage kids' mystery novels (and other books having nothing to do with people behaving badly).
More faithfully taking walks.
Studying ways to make a clothes and body make-over for this she-ain't-what-she-used-to-be body of mine.
Leaving 'The News' alone, just skimming headlines (then praying), instead. Then moving on.
Contributing to discussions not related to politics.


It was a process and required time and focus, but wow. Talk about a sunnier, more cheerful head space! Now I can view political shenanigans more dispassionately, without personally latching onto the divisiveness of it all. And now I'm, once again, in charge of where my brain will go and where it will not.

We don't have to follow those bunny trails, you know.

It's like getting ones power back. No longer do I feel dragged along to where I do not want to go. Whew. Freedom.

I hope that makes sense and also, may it remind us all not to let anything steal the joy which Jesus died to give us. Nothing is greater, more powerful, than His sacrifice for us.

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So Tom's in San Francisco! 

He's there for a business trip till Friday and for awhile, we wondered if he'd make it at all, for Delta's flights where incredibly backed-up due to recent storms. It was so bad, that, while Tom waited at the airport on Friday, they brought out the comfort dog to soothe the murmuring, restless natives. Seriously.

Hmmm....

But hours and hours later, Tom took the taxi back home from our airport, saying he'd try again on Sunday.

A test! But at least this enabled us to spend another wonderful Saturday together. We do love our Saturdays.



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Oh! Whenever my kitchen radio plays this song, suddenly it's the 1960's and I'm ten again, listening to my parents' tv and radio console in our living room with the green shag carpet.  :)

Funny how this song kinda goes along with today's post, especially with lines like these---



How was I caught in this game?
Gotta get off this merry-go-round,
Need to get on to where I'm bound.


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