Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Gee, am I ever glad you weren't at my house on Monday.

I was beyond cranky. Our yard felt like the size of four football fields, all of which needed to be mowed. And I was mad at our house, because it's not really at all a 'Blondie House' like I wanted. Like a neon sign, "Buyer's Remorse" flashed in my brain. 

And Tom brought home a bookshelf from the curb, one which would have looked great painted white, but was not the right height for the plan we've discussed and discussed--and he knew it. But I walked around the whole house anyway, desperately seeking a place for it, and found space only upstairs in my little blue library, yet even if we could have lugged it up those (steep, boxed-in) stairs, we'd have broken our backs. 

We then walked out to the barn and, not having been in there a few days, I was horrified that Tom had shoved junk into the walkway to both storage rooms, making it impossible to get inside either, and my lawn mower was wedged-in tightly in a corner, making it useless, too.

Seeing all that, I told him, "I can't handle this! I'm going back into the house," and stomped back inside. After which Tom straightened the barn (lest he incur more of my wrath, I suppose) and later we shoved the bookshelf into one of the storage rooms (after I talked him out of keeping it in the walkway...?) where it fit just right.

And rather than make you embarrassed that you even know me, I'll leave out a few other gruesome details.

Of course, I have my excuses. This is our third staycation of this summer. Our third! And like the title of that great Berenstain Bears classic says, we've had Too Much Vacation. On these staycations, Tom and I eat bad, bad for us food, lay like slugs in front of the tv watching Netflixed Stargate and drive around to yard sales till we're bleary-eyed from Thursday till Saturday or Sunday.

We are too old to live like this, but we're taking too long admitting that, or rather, finally living the way we should now that we're past 50.

So there was that.

And too, I'd not been praying lately, "Restore unto me, the joy of living out here." That's one important prayer, indeed. Remember when I blogged about that here? Because when you pray that, God reminds you that hey. If your house and yard aren't the way you like them, then it's your own darn fault:

You've gotten lazy. Ungrateful, too.

You've stopped searching for new ideas and inspiration.

You've started seeing problems as burdens instead of challenges.

You've lost your creative spirit.

You've lost the fun factor.

Alas. Lessons and reminders abound everyday for me. How about you?

Anyway, remember that verse which says, "Count it all joy when you mess up"? (Last part is my interpretation). Well, I think I get that, because I'm actually glad that I sometimes have those types of Mondays. 

Why? Because now I totally understand when you have them, also. If you tell me you both love and hate your house--I understand that. If you say you're struggling with eating right--I get that. If you tell me you have a husband with no organizational skills (to put it sweetly)--I can say I have one of those, as well.

Cranky Mondays help keep me relevant in this blog. If I didn't have them, I'd be all Life's Just One Big Peach Pie All The Time and who can relate to that? There are quite enough blogs out there which share only the good stuff and hide the rest. 

And although I'm oh-so tempted to do that at times, my longing to be relevant remains greater.


Speaking of houses..... Oh! I loved Yvonne's house. Kindred Spirit City.

Count it all joy!



Donetta said...

Oh you and I both had one of those Mondays! Funny If I would of visited you on Monday I would of really bemoaned it. Good thing It was this morning where humor ruled the mind and the ability to sheepishly apologize to God for yelling at him.

Nan said...

Hey Debra, I may be way off here, but do you think it is possible that what you thought you wanted and the reality aren't quite the same? Maybe you don't want to live where there is so much that has to be done all the time. And if so, there is nothing wrong with that. Sometimes we don't know what we do or don't want until we try it. I remember reading once that after Mary Engelbreit had completely made her home perfect, she found that the house she wanted forever came on the market, so she sold the one she had put so much into. I know a lot of people who couldn't bear to live the way Tom and I do - they think having a woodstove would be awful and just so much work. They wouldn't want to be just here almost all the time like I am. But it suits us. And that can take a long time to find out. Perhaps this rural life is not what suits you two, and if not, maybe a new dream will be better for you both. Just my 2¢ or maybe even 1¢. :<)

Debra said...

Donetta--glad I'm not the only one! :)

Nan--actually, living in the country is the part that feels oh so right. I think the problem is that there's soooo much to do inside the house and there's sooooo much to do outside, too. Now, if only one of those needed work, then that would be easier to handle. It's the constant thinking of both that gets to me, but alas, that's my own fault. I need to remember that Rome was not built in a day! :) And if I'd just be faithful to follow Grace each day--and not my impatience--then I'd be fine.

Thanks, Ladies. Blessings, Debra

Saija said...

just read this post ...

i could have written it - except i can't be cranky towards leo (tho'i want to be!), cause he is the cranky one - i'm the one that has to suppress that stuff, then choke on it later on! sigh ... life is the pits sometimes - then it gets worse!

i shouldn't even type this in the comments - but sometimes that is what i feel ... good for you for typing a relevent post on it ... i just don't blog when i feel blah! the reason isn't to save face, just that i am too depressed to type or read other blogs - that is when i need a swift kick ... i know ...

i'm still in a slump, but i DO KNOW that this too shall pass ... especially if leo starts feeling better and his latest "thorn in the flesh", an eye irritation, heals up ...

thanx for letting me bend your ear, dear Debra! ... ((hugs)) to you ...