Healing

I don’t even know where to begin with this post. I titled it “Healing” because my family is going through a healing experience that has been 30 years in the making. And it’s hard to know where to begin.

I guess I will just jump right in with both feet holding my nose so I don’t drown, and I will not worry about if it is jumbled up all over the place.

More than likely, it will be. Not that it’s unusual for things I write to be all jumbled up, but this particular time, it may be jumbled up into a mess more than usual.

Saturday, I went to my parents’ for the day because my brother Rick was visiting from Georgia. It was the second time I’ve seen him since July 1982. The story of Rick is one of my family’s deepest darkest family secrets…talk about skeletons in a closet…this story is a big old bag of rattle-y skeleton bones long buried deep in a dark and scary closet.

We all got together with him back in November for a quick dinner when he was in the St. Louis area, and it was the first time my sister or parents or I had seen him since July 1982 when he left our house on Rose Ann Dr. in Olney on foot with nothing but a suitcase. No money. No car. Nothing. Nothing but a suitcase full of clothes. He was forced to leave by my parents just a month after he graduated from high school. He had tried to join the Army, and I will not ever forget the day he left for St. Louis with the recruiter, headed for boot camp. Two days later, I came home from work to find him sitting at the kitchen table. Apparently, when he had tried to be inducted into the Army, he failed the drug test, so he was back home, and that evening, he was forced to leave our home. For years, I had no idea what happened to him.

Needless to say, I was apprehensive about meeting up with him back in the fall, but it went great, and he welcomed my parents with the same open arms that he was welcomed by them with. It was heartwarming and sad and wonderful all at the same time watching him hug mom and sit close to her at dinner. When he left that night, he promised mom he’d come back for a weekend sometime soon, and he did this past weekend.

I took a couple of the kids and went over on Saturday. I was nervous as heck. Meeting in a neutral location like Applebee’s in Wentzville, MO with just Tony, Theresa, Roger, Mom and Dad for 2 hours was one thing. Meeting at Mom and Dad’s house, with kids and all was quite another thing. I was almost sick at my stomach that morning thinking about it, and was a big huge bundle of stress and nerves before we left.

It went well, but it was a long, emotional, draining day.

I can’t help but look at him and feel for all he has been through. I can’t imagine what his life was like when he was forced at the age of 18 to leave his home on foot with nothing but a suitcase full of clothes. I have a 20 year old, and an almost 18 year old, and the thought of either one of them in that situation is more than my mind can take thinking about.

At the same time as I am thinking about Brandon and Justin, I will not ever forget seeing Rick and the loving way he interacted with Mom yesterday. When I got there, they were sitting on Mom’s couch so close their legs were touching…looking through a box of old photographs. It was like no one else was in the room. I tried to talk, they ignored me, so I finally picked up a magazine and let them reminisce.

Rick was so loving and gentle and downright kind with her. Several times, he put his hand on her arm, or her back, and many other times, I would glance at him and see the way he was looking at her with such love in his eyes.

It made me want to cry and smile at the same time. I wanted to smile because obviously, even after all the horrible things that happened, he still obviously so loves our mother. Even after being kicked out of the house as a kid. Even after 30 years of not seeing any of us.

I wanted to smile for the same reasons I wanted to cry.

There are conversations and looks and other things that I can’t even bring myself to write about. We left much later than I wanted to leave, and I had to drink coffee on the way home to stay awake. The worst thing about leaving so late was kids quiet and listening to their iPods on the way home, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that I have tried for days to write about, but I can’t seem to get them out in a coherent way.

I will have to try again. Healing, Part 2. Add that to the list of Part 2’s…last week, I said I’d write “Learning to Love Yourself, Part 2.” This week is definitely NOT the week for that.

Good thing I don’t have a whole gaggle of readers who are going to bombard me with emails for cutting off a story two times in a week.



Joyful Simplicities for this week. It’s a short list, but I tried!

A chocolate covered wine bottle.




My boss hosted a murder mystery party last night, and the theme was “Death by Chocolate.” I told her weeks ago I had this awesome truffle recipe, and I would make some for her party. I dropped them off at her house yesterday morning on my way out of town, and she gave me this bottle of wine as a thank you gift.

It’s a bottle of Chardonnay, triple dipped in chocolate. There is a ribbon underneath the chocolate, and as you unwind the ribbon, pieces of the chocolate break off.

Who thinks of these things?

Chocolate truffles




I made 45 of these truffles Friday night. Thankfully, I gave most of them to my boss, or I probably would have eaten nearly all of them. They turned out so good and literally melt in your mouth. Why yes. That is a half eaten one on the plate. If I eat half in the morning and half at night, does that affect the calorie consumption??
And yes, there is an oddball. I had the grand idea to roll half of them in cocoa powder and half in sprinkles. Thankfully, I only rolled two in the powder…and I taste tested it. It was NASTY. I’ll be throwing that one away. You know it’s bad if I am throwing away choclolate.

Signs that spring is on its way…


fat robins flitting around the yard, and tulips poking up through the cold dirt. In FEBRUARY!!! Normally, crocuses are just starting to show their finery in late February…not tulips.

My first scrapbook in 8 years is >< close to being finished. I can’t wait to show it off! For now, here is this…the stack of finished pages waiting to be put into the album.


Dinner with an old friend
A beloved coworker who moved to Kansas City a few months ago was in town this week, and we all went out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. It was a much-needed break from life. And the best part, I get to make some wedding jewelry! Her son is getting married in July, and she bought her dress while she was in town, and gave me a swatch of the fabric so I can get started on designing some fabulous jewelry for her. I can’t wait!

The Greatest Love of All, Part 1

A couple of mornings ago, I was watching the Today Show, and they were doing a small tribute to Whitney Houston. Over the past week, I’ve had so many mixed emotions about her death. I couldn’t help but think, “What a damn waste.” She had such a beautiful voice, and at one time, had the world in the palm of her hand. Her death has spawned many conversations in my house this past week, even though my kids are too young to really know who she is and what a great talent she once was. Last Sunday night, I found a You Tube video of Whitney singing the national anthem at the Super Bowl in 1991. I wanted them to hear how talented she had once been, while then explaining to them all that she ended up losing because of being addicted to drugs. I don’t know if they got it or not, but like I said, we’ve had several conversations this week about drugs and what being addicted to them can do to you--and how they can ruin your life, and how Whitney Houston is a prime example of that—how not even being rich and famous and beautiful and so very talented makes you immune from the life-destroying effects of drugs.

Back to a few mornings ago when I was watching the tribute to her on the Today Show. They played a clip of her from many years ago, well before her drug addiction had a vice grip on her life. She looked so young, so beautiful, and that voice. Wow, that voice. The clip they showed was of her singing “The Greatest Love of All,” and this line from the song grabbed my attention: “Learning to love yourself…it is the greatest love of all.”

I had several thoughts in kind of an “ah ha!” moment as I sat on my couch early that morning. First of all, I wondered when Whitney stopped loving herself as she sang about so eloquently and beautifully. Because surely, if she loved herself, she would never have let her life become a downward spiral of drugs and beatings from an abusive husband. I wondered if she ever really loved herself, or if she just sang about it, hoping that belting out those famous words would convince her to love herself.

But more than thinking about Whitney Houston, I thought about myself, and that line from her song…”Learning to love yourself…it is the greatest love of all.”

Those words are so very true, and I have been thinking about them for days.

Loving yourself is not an easy thing to do. In fact, it is downright hard. At least for me it is and always has been. I have an inkling why, but that’s not what I am writing about right now.

It is kind of ironic that last Saturday, my sister and I had a conversation about unconditional love. More specifically, unconditional love as it relates to us as parents, and how we love our children unconditionally. We talked about our parents, and how they really don’t love anyone unconditionally, not even their children, and how very sad that is. We talked about how while we love our kids unconditionally, we, even as adults, have a hard time loving ourselves and believing with our whole hearts and souls that anyone will truly love us, faults and all, because our parents put so many conditions on their caring for us. We talked about how it is hard to really trust and KNOW that anyone will care about us unconditionally. It was quite a heartwarming conversation, even though it sounds rather depressing. It really wasn’t depressing at all.

There I go rambling again…

While Whitney Houston obviously isn’t the greatest “loving yourself” role model, I can’t help but be inspired by her words…learning to love yourself, it really is the greatest love of all.

Have I repeated that enough??

This is my point. (Yeah, I have one, shockingly!) I haven’t spent much of my life loving myself. Just the opposite, actually. I am very hard on myself and always have been. Many times over the years of my adult life, I’ve been told by friends, bosses, relatives and even mere acquaintances that I don’t need any enemies because I have the worst one of one of all…myself. I used to laugh it off when people said that, but now that I really think about it, I think how sad it is. Sad that I have spent a great deal of my life not liking myself very much. Oh, there have been many times for sure when I have felt good, no great, about my life and what I accomplished. Like when in I was in college and made straight A’s occasionally. Or when my kids were little and I enjoyed them so very much, and I really felt like I was a great mom (most of the time anyway!) Or when I started working at Share and I felt so good about what I was doing and thoroughly loved every minute of the job I had. I’m sure
there are more, but those are the situations that come to mind first.

I wonder though…does feeling good about what you do in life mean you love yourself? I’ve been thinking about this a lot the past couple of days, and I don’t think that it does. Loving yourself means really loving yourself…even when bad things happen, or when you do something stupid, or say something stupid, or get in a fight with your husband…in other words, when things aren’t “perfect” yet knowing deep in your soul and heart that you are an awesome person...loving yourself as you do your kids...loving the just for who they are in spite of the sometimes stupid things they do that you don't necessarily love.

My thoughts are all over the place right now, as it has been a few days of me not loving myself very much. I guess I am a hypocrite for everything I have written just now. I will continue this at some point with a post titled “The Greatest Love of All, Part 2.

I will not be a failure at one thing…posting my ‘Joyful Simplicities’ for the week.
I have no pictures to share this week. I took them, but Rachel took the camera to Chicago, and she deleted all of the pictures I took because the camera ran out of storage. But here is my list, boring without pictures to go along with it. And I am too tired to write in picture-vivid detail.

Valentine’s Day treats

~a heart shaped cherry cake with cherry cream cheese frosting ( I had such a lovely, drool-worthy picture of the cake!)
~pretzels with melted Hershey kisses smooshed with pink and red M & M’s (I had such a lovely, drool-worthy picture of a plate full of these treats!)
~a bowl full of cherry M & M’s. (Cherry M & M’s! Where have these been all my life?) (I had such a beautiful, drool-worthy picture of my pink heart shaped bowl full of cherry M & M’s!)

Lauren teases me all the time that I take pictures of crazy stuff. I tell her that some day, when I am either an old lady or dead, she will appreciate having my silly pictures. She laughs at me.

Weekend breakfast

Okay, so that shouldn’t be on this list. I have been sick all weekend, and I did not feel like cooking at all. What is joyful about that? That 2 of my 4 kids told me this morning that they missed having a big breakfast.

A lazy Saturday morning

On my couch, under my favorite quilt, my hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea.

A scrapbook

I wrote several weeks ago about a small scrapbook I started working on. Well, that ‘small’ scrapbook has become a true labor of love project that is far from small. It has snowballed into something much bigger than I imagined it to be when I began. But I am glad to have rediscovered and enjoyed something that I loved doing years ago.

That is all folks.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of "The Greatest Love of All/Learning to Love Yourself."

Joyful Simplicity Sunday

Snagging the last bag of my favorite coffee from the shelf at the grocery store
My favorite coffee is peppermint, and it is only sold around the holidays, so when it’s gone from the shelves, it’s gone. The other day, I noticed one bag left at the grocery store, so I grabbed it.

Strawberries
I don’t usually buy summer fruit like strawberries and peaches and tomatoes in the winter because they just don’t taste the same when they are shipped from Mexico or grown in a greenhouse as they do fresh from the vine or tree in the summer. But I was craving one of my favorite salads…spinach, strawberries, crumbled bacon, avocado, feta cheese and pecans, topped with poppy seed dressing. So I spent way too much money on a way too small container of strawberries that didn’t even taste that great. The poppy seed dressing disguised the sourness of the strawberries, and I pretended it is summer, even though yesterday was barely 20 degrees.

A red door
THIS is what I did when Tony was away last week. And whew, what a job it turned out to be! A few months ago, I saw a picture on a home decorating website of an entry hall that was painted a buttery yellow, the trim was white, and the front door was red. And I loved it. I have lots of red things in my house…red and white checked curtains in the kitchen, a lamp with a red shade, a red couch in the family room…red dining room walls…so the red front door really grabbed my attention. My front door has never been anything but white, but I couldn’t get the thought of that red front door out of my head. I imagined Tony thinking I was crazy, so I didn’t mention it. Last week when he was in Atlanta, I decided that was the time to paint the door. As the first coat of paint went on






I thought I was going to hate it. It was a few shades brighter than Pepto Bismol, and I was wishing I would have listened when the man in the paint department at Lowes told me I would need a primer if I didn’t want to paint a shitload of coats. Well, he didn’t actually say “shitload,” but I wish that he would have, because then, I would have bought primer instead of thinking, “What’s the big deal? It’s a door. I have an entire gallon of paint.

My mistake. Yeah, it’s just a door. However, I started painting the door Monday night. It’s now Sunday night, and it still needs another coat or two of paint. I have no idea how many coats of paint are on that door. I lost track at 50.

That good thing is that I LOVE it. And here is the almost-finished-door. Ignore the few little red marks on the white trim. I will fix those when I am finished. The shadows make it look weird, but it really is pretty striking. And the best part? Tony actually likes it!



Cookies!

Of course. What post of mine would be complete without some mention of something I baked?

At Christmas time, I found a recipe for some really fun cookies on a cooking blog, but I didn’t have the chance to make them. They are called Spiral Sprinkle Cookies, and they were a mixture of red and white cookie dough rolled up, coated in colorful sprinkles, sliced and then baked.
Here is my version:





It’s been gloomy around here, so I decided to make them in sunny colors. I also added lemon extract to the orange part. They tasted so yummy…a lightly crispy, really buttery, melt-in-your-mouth cookie. I think I am going to rename them Sunshiny Spiral Cookies. I won't say how many of those little swirls of sunshine I ate. Thankfully, Lauren had 3 friends over last night, and they polished off a good number of them.

That’s all for tonight.
And wow, this is my 4th post here this week!

How have I gone my whole life

of almost 40 years and not ever eaten grits?
(Okay, so almost 50 years. But still).
I have never eaten grits. Never even thought about eating grits. I’m not a picky eater at all, but it never occurred to me that grits might be good. I have seen grits on breakfast menus in restaurants and wondered why in the world anyone would order grits in a restaurant.

I know now, and the next time I go out for breakfast, I might just order grits instead of hashbrowns.

Justin is taking an international cuisine class this semester, and the unit they are studying now is Soul Food, which is all food that is typically eaten in the southern United States. It’s kind of cool because he has eaten things that he totally would have rolled his eyes and pinched his nose over and said “EWWWWWW!!!!” if *I* had made them. A good example…he came home one day this week and told me in his very dramatic way, “Today, I ate one of THE BEST THINGS I’VE EVVVVEEERRRR EATEN!” When I asked him what, he began describing it to me, and he almost had to pick me up off the floor because I nearly fell out of my chair when he told me it had…get THIS….

Cabbage.

And collard greens.

My picky eater son ate cabbage and collard greens and proclaimed it one of the best things he’s ever eaten.

Cabbage and collard greens! (Is it clear that I am baffled and shocked and kerfluffled by this?)

Now mind you, I’m a pretty darn good cook, and for the most part, my kids really enjoy everything I make and often brag to their friends about things I cook and bake. However, I have never served cabbage and collard greens.

I’ve never eaten collard greens. To be honest, I don’t even know what collard greens really are.

I do like cabbage when it’s made into coleslaw or cooked into vegetable soup. However, I never have cooked and served cabbage to my kids for one simple reason. Tony HATES cabbage. Hates even the smell of cabbage. I will not ever forget the first time I made a big, yummy pot of vegetable soup just a few months after our wedding. It was the first chilly fall day in Omaha, and all afternoon, I couldn’t wait to get home from work and eat the soup I’d put in the crockpot that morning. I got home, made a pan of cornbread, Tony walked in the door and said “OH MY GOD!!! YOU MADE CABBAGE FOR DINNER?????” The word cabbage was said in the most distasteful way he could possibly say a word. He could have just as easily have said “OH MY GOD!!!!! YOU MADE DIRTY SOCKS FOR DINNER????” because that was the attitude that came across loud and very clear.

Obviously,I was unaware that my new husband would rather starve to death than eat cabbage. He’d also rather starve to death than eat tuna, but how I discovered that is another story for another time.

I grew up eating my grandmother’s delicious vegetable soup that was full of tender chunks of steak, carrots, green beans, corn and yes, cabbage.

That was the last time I cooked cabbage to serve to the family. I do sometimes make a pot of veggie soup and put cabbage in it for myself and then put it in small freezer containers that I take to work for lunch, but I make sure all traces of the smell are gone from our house before Tony gets home.

The other day, I could not wait to tell him that now Justin loves cabbage and wants me to make it. The look on his face when I did tell him was priceless. I wish I had captured it on film.

So back to grits…
The day after Justin announced that one of the best foods he’d ever eaten was cabbage and collard greens, he came home and told me that another of the best food he’d ever eaten was grits. He loved that so much that he asked his teacher to email him the recipe, he printed it for me, and told me that I HAD to make it for dinner and soon. I made it last night. I was a little apprehensive about it, so rather than make the full recipe, I cut it in half in case no one liked it and it all ended up going down the garbage disposal. The grits were cheap…but there was quite a bit of cheese mixed in, and I couldn’t stand the thought of throwing away perfectly good cheese.

Well, as Popeye would say, “Blow me down!” Everyone loved the cheesy grits and scraped the pan clean. In fact, they fought over the last spoonful.
Justin told me this morning that he could eat grits every day. I guess I’d better find some new recipes. And suggest that he might want to attend college in Louisiana since apparently Southern Soul Food is now his favorite cuisine. And tell him to find a nice southern girl to marry.

Whine, Wine, Whine...

I know this is supposed to be a place for me to write happy things, and I will in a minute, but first, I’m going to whine. But only for a short time, and then I will be all positive and dancing in the rain. If someone is actually reading this, keep me in your thoughts, say a prayer, because I am struggling with too many things right now. Before I get into my “whine,” keep in mind that I KNOW that things can be worse. Believe me, I know that.

However, I am going to whine anyway. It’s my blog, and I will whine if I want to.

The past two weeks have totally sucked.

Yes, I know things can be worse.

Things have sucked though. Not only have the past two weeks sucked, but they have
been expensive.

Yes, I know things can be worse.

The past two weeks have cost us close to $3,000. And we aren’t finished yet.

Yes, I know things can be worse.

Just when I spent the weekend trying to wrap my head around just how much money we’ve spent the past two weeks, and I am feeling okay about it, we were slammed again.

Before I write this next part, YES, I know things can be worse.

Tony has been battling a knee injury since around Christmas time. Knee injuries are huge to runners, so he’s been in a rather unpleasant mood. He is one of those strange folks who loves running. He runs every day. He runs when he is stressed. He can get crabby when he can’t run.

Did I mention he hasn’t been able to run since Christmas? And it’s now February?

I’ve actually felt really sorry for him. I know how much he enjoys running, and he hasn’t been able to, and it’s been driving him crazy. He also had already signed up for a couple of marathons in the spring that he now won’t be able to go to.
Which brings me to my whine for today. Whine and wine. I need some cheese. ..

And YES, I know things can be worse. (Have I said that already?)
On Friday, he finally had an MRI on his knee. For a couple of days, it had been swollen huge, very painful, and he could hardly walk. Remembering three years ago when he had a blood clot and ended up in the hospital for 5 days, our doctor sent him immediately for an MRI. They told him on Friday that he didn’t have a blood clot, but of course, he would have to wait for the doctor to call him to discuss the results. She did that yesterday afternoon. And he has a torn ACL, and the meniscus has 3 tears. He’s already had surgery on both of those things before, so he knows the implications.

Yes, I know this can be worse.
However, he is going to need knee surgery, and he doesn’t have insurance right now. The rest of us do, but due to his blood clotting disorder, the new insurance company that we have since he started his new job in January won’t cover him for 9 months. He did buy some separate insurance, but it is really more of a major medical plan with a $5,000 deductible.

Yes, I know things can be worse.

But, having to pay for knee surgery right now really sucks on top of everything else. And he has to do it…I don’t think he will be willing to wait 9 months when he can barely walk right now.
Okay, my whining is over…

Like I said, (I think I said anyway), I know things can be worse. This time three years ago, he had no job and was in the hospital with a blood clot that ran the length of his leg, with parts of it settled in one of his lungs.
Not only have I been thinking of where we were this time three years ago, I have been thinking of this poor little girl whose Caringbridge page I have been reading. She just turned 2, and for the past year, she has been battling a horrific, very aggressive form of brain cancer. I read her page today, and her parents received the terrible news that her tumors have grown, she has more, and there is nothing else to be done for her.

So yes, I think I have made it clear that things can always be worse.

Sigh.

This whiny post comes on the heels of a post I wanted to write on Sunday but I didn’t have the mental energy to do it.
Sunday morning, I was feeling lazy, I had nothing to do (well, other than the laundry that was sweetly calling my name from the far corner of my basement). But it was early, I wasn’t in the mood for tackling chores yet, so I made a pot of peppermint coffee, poured some into a mug, grabbed a quilt, and watched a movie that was on Lifetime that I have always wanted to see…The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

I read the book years ago, and I absolutely loved it. I remember reading it and feeling so envious of girls who had friends like that. I never really did when I was young because my parents moved around too much for me to ever really develop close friendships. Until Sunday morning, I had never watched the movie though. It was really cute, and since it’s been a good number of years since I read the book, I didn’t analyze every little thing and compare it to the book like I normally do. That was nice since movies always comes up short in my mind, which takes away from my enjoyment of the movie. That didn’t happen on Sunday, and the movie was delightful.

At one point, the narrator of the movie, Carmen, says this (Or something close to this. I scrambled around looking for a paper and something to write with, and by the time I wrote it down, I had to paraphrase):

Being happy isn’t about everything always being perfect. Maybe it’s stringing together all the little and good things. It means you’ve decided to see beyond the imperfections.

Wow, that really grabbed my attention. It made me think about how I so often base whether or not I am “happy” on whatever circumstances happen to be affecting my life at any given moment. I thought about how it is really hard to “be” happy when life sucks and there are so many imperfections.

That line about stringing all the little and good things together made me think about the bracelets I make. I usually pick a few, maybe only 2 or 3, really awesome, sometimes expensive, beads…sometimes, large, sparkling crystals, sometimes just one special bead… and then I fill in the spaces with filler beads that aren’t as flashy or eye catching or expensive. Yet strung all together, that mixture of perfect and not-so-perfect beads put together in just the right, perfect way, make a perfectly beautiful bracelet. And I know from past experience, that no one notices the tiny little insignificant beads that are simply there to fill up space. They notice the few show piece beads or better yet, the overall bracelet and how pretty it is with all of the beads combined in just the right way.

Without knowing what I was doing, I have always tried to look at life that way…noticing the wonderful parts and looking at the overall picture…while ignoring the not so wonderful parts…looking beyond the many imperfections. If I hadn’t spent my life doing that, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Lately though, I feel like I have forgotten how to ignore the yucky parts and focus on the good parts.
And then I read something in a book, or hear something in a movie, that gives me a kick in the ass and reminds me to focus on the good things in life when what I really want to do is curl up in bed with a book and quilt and a box of Kleenex and cry my eyes out.
Even though things can always be worse, they can still suck.

Joyful Simplicities Sunday

I don't have the energy to write much, so I'm just going to make a quick list before I go to bed. I don't even have any pictures tonight. Here are my joyful simplicities for the week.

A plate piled high with pumpkin muffins topped with toasted pecans and sesame seeds.

A big jar candle I found for cheap at the grocery store called Fiery Cinnamon that smells like I have my head buried in a bag of red hots when it is burning.

A double batch of my favorite cookies…peanut butter with crushed pretzels and white chocolate chips. (Am I lame because I spent the afternoon cooking and baking things for my kids to take to Super Bowl parties while I stayed home alone eating a grilled cheese sandwich?)

A pan of my new favorite homemade mac and cheese...chicken carbonara mac and cheese. Why did I not think before of putting bacon in mac and cheese? I could picture my arteries clogging with each bite I took, but I will be making that again!

A lazy weekend…I had no where I had to be for 2 whole days. That NEVER happens, and I thoroughly enjoyed each and every moment of it.

Free books…I discovered this week that all Jane Austen books are free downloads on my Kindle, so they are now all waiting for me to have time to read them.


It’s Sunday night, and laundry is caught up. That rarely happens, and what a nice way to start the week!

And that ends the most boring blog post ever.

While the cat...I mean husband...is away,

the mouse...I mean wife...will play.

I don’t know if other people do this, but whenever Tony travels, I often like to tackle some project while he is gone. Usually it is because I want to do something a bit unusual that I think he will make fun of, or pooh pooh the idea, so my thought process is along the lines of, “If I do it while he is gone, he can’t do anything to stop me!” And usually, he ends up liking what I have done. He just has a hard time visualizing things the way I do. His mathematical scientific mind sees things in black or white...smart or dumb...with not much in between, and he often looks at me like I'm crazy when I share some idea with him. Doing things while he is gone has always worked out quite well for me.

Here I sit on a rainy Saturday morning, the window next to my desk is open because it's unseasonably warm outside, I am eating a pumpkin muffin and enjoying a cup of coffee while scheming and plotting a couple of transformations I am going to make while he is in Atlanta this week. He is leaving in the morning and won’t be home until Thursday. It may sound terrible for me to say what I am about to say, but I am sort of excited. I’ve had a couple of things up my sleeve that I have wanted to do around the house...that I have been waiting for the perfect opportunity to take on, and this is it!

I’m not going to say what I’m going to be doing to my hallway right inside the front door:







but it is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time but have been too chicken to do it. If it turns out the way I envision, it will be amazing. But, every time I think about it, I hear Tony in my head saying, “you want to do WHAT???? Are you crazy?? That is a dumb idea and will look STUPID.”

It just might. If it does, I’ll fix it before he arrives home on Thursday, but I’m going to go for it!
(And the dog leash hanging on the banister and the pile of shoes will be gone.)

I’m also taking on a trash-to-hopefully-treasure project and turning this beat up old table


into a thing of beauty. I hope so anyway! It has been in our entry way since the day we moved into this house nearly 18 years ago, and it's time for a change. I'd like to throw it in the trash, but I can't afford a replacement, so I'm giving it a makeover that will hopefully rejuvenate it.

I can’t wait to get started!