Lennon loves our new little bird watching table at the window, too.

I'm still recovering from my cold (so please have mercy with me and this sorry post), but at least I made it over to the supermarket early yesterday morning. Not the supermarket here in town--nooOOOoooo-- for we don't have one. We did have a tiny ancient market when we first moved here in June, but in August they closed for--cough, cough--six weeks (they said) while their new building across the street could be finished. They emptied all their shelves and disappeared.

Well, that was at least nine weeks ago (ten? eleven?).

And at first, that also meant that our one and only gas pump in town became non-usable since they'd also operated that. But a couple weeks later (and probably a million complaints later since we were out here in Boonieville with no groceries and no gas) a different group of people took over the little store and the gas pump. Except about the only groceries they have are snacks, sodas, bread, and coffee (stuff we're told America runs on). But at least we've been able to buy gas here in town in a pinch. (And technically, our one and only major chain store, Rite-Aid, does carry a few groceries. Bad-for-you ones mostly. At we-can-rob-you-freely-because-we're-all-you've-got,Sucker prices.

Sometimes it's so hard not to complain. And I'm afraid I've been doing a whole lot of complaining lately around here. Drats. (Those eternally-moaning Israelites of the Old Testament have been heavy on my mind... and the consequences of their whining.)

And I'm still waitin' for that Simple Country Life to start kickin' in. :)

Of Wishers and Such

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride." I used to say that to Naomi a lot, probably because my own mother used to say it to me.

I try not to become bug-eyed impatient with people who just loll around wishing their lives would change... wishing for pretty things or money or new friends or for a president who will turn our Country into a 1950's Happy Place (good luck, I'm thinkin' lately, with that last one).

Wishers have always made me nuts. Especially the times I've morphed into one of them.

Even as a child I realized that if you want something, well, you can create it! You can either work for money to buy things or you can work to win and woo a friend. Or you can use your imagination--and your hands-- to create something with stuff you already own. You can read books or watch movies or Life to become inspired and you can discover small ways to reach big heights.

The only insurmountable problem in Life is when your imagination is broken, soured or nonexistent. At least, that's how I've always felt deep inside.

Not that I've always lived by that. Nope, I've had my months of self-pity, my low, low, low times when my own imagination felt broken or too weary to even try. Times when I laid around hoping the world outside of me would suddenly meet the needs growing on the inside of me. But eventually God or others or my own spirit would yank me out of those pitiful places and set me back on solid ground.

And then the dreaming would begin again, the envisioning, the planning and soon, the work to make it all happen.

It's pretty useless to sit upon your couch waiting for your daily life to become better. Trust me. I know. Most often, better moments and better days are as close as your very imagination right there inside your own head--and heart.

What remains is to keep that imagination in good repair with much use.

Of Coat Closets and Bliss

So as a young girl I always (for who knows what reason?) noticed the coat closets in old black and white movies such as Blondie and Father of the Bride (with Spencer Tracy). I even noticed them in tv shows like Hazel and such.

For me, there's just something about an old coat closet in the living room or entryway. There's something, well, elegant or extravagant about a whole specific place to store your coats and even the vacuum cleaner.

Some things just cannot be explained. (Did I ever tell you I love the shows, Stargate and Stargate Atlantis? Try explaining that--I dare you.)

Well, we moved to this ancient farmhouse last summer and hooray! Finally I had my real-live coat closet. A nice spacious one behind a lovely paneled door.

But razzlefrats! Because we no longer have a basement where you can actually store things (because it's so wet down there), we had to cram Tom's musical paraphernalia inside the coat closet, including one large electronic piano in a huge black case. And we had to remove the pole upon which to hang coats, not that there was even room for a coat in there. Immediately it became the type of closet you hesitate to open lest its contents come pouring out upon your head.



Phooey.

But alas! Last week Tom sold that huge old (heavy, heavy) electronic piano. "The Albatross" as I'd not so affectionately growled at it for years. And not only did that mean some extra money (yay!) it also meant that--oh happy day--there is actually room for our coats inside our coat closet now.

I feel just like Blondie and the Banks family and Hazel and all the rest. And if the day ever arrives when I can fit our vacuum cleaner in there, well, look out. I may just go out of my mind. In a good way. Truly, the wait for dreams to come true is always, always worth it. At least, that is what I've found.



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Is there something you consider elegant which most other people wouldn't?

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Thanks so much to each of you who sent me get well wishes--I appreciate them so much! My strength began returning last night and now if I could just speak without coughing....

Oh, and to each of you who signed up as followers of this blog--a special thanks, as well. It delights me to see your tiny faces right there on my front page... like a whole little group of encouragers. :)