hope wisdom inspiration courage faith

Our local garden center is going out of business and we have been taking full opportunity of their low prices. To date, we’ve purchased a gazing ball, a large fountain, three flats of pansies, gardening gloves and hand tools, and pottery.

Tonight, I picked out this garden stone. I fell in love with it on first sight.

Around the edge it says:

HOPE WISDOM INSPIRATION COURAGE FAITH

Also, the angel is holding something in her arms that has rays emanating from it. The rays are all glittery and, since I am attracted to shiny things, there was no chance this garden stone would escape my notice.

I wish you could see it better. It is beautiful. It is inspiring.

It is exactly the sort of thing I need to see every day as I walk past my garden.

We’ve got a lot going on here.

We are adding a walk-in closet to our bedroom, tearing out our old closets, and remodeling the bathroom. When all is said and done, my bedroom will be a bed/bath suite with a Roman jacuzzi. Yes! *pumps fist in air*

We’re also having all of the windows throughout the house replaced. Supposedly they will be installed tomorrow but the weather calls for snow or freezing rain so I am thinking chances are slim. I can’t imagine how reasonable our energy bills will be when we no longer have wind blowing through the cracks around the fifty thousand year old windows.

We went to the furniture store on Saturday ostensibly to purchase a couch and love seat for the family room. The puppies chewed the old one up pretty good the last time we left town and it was looking bad even before that.

Well, it turns out that we went hog wild in the furniture store and left with a hefty bill for a new couch and love seat, a new dining set, and a new bedroom set. I went back to the store yesterday to take pictures.

Have a look-see:

What post would be complete without a gratuitous shot of my tootsies? Just because I got a pedicure after visiting the furniture store.

I am excited about all of the changes we are making!

domestication

Sometimes, I can’t believe that I am a wife and mother of two who drives a family car, pays a mortgage and holds down a job — as a nurse, no less. I fold laundry, iron shirts, pack lunches, cook dinners, and clean the house.

I must say, I never thought I’d be like everyone else.

There was a time when I stood up during a heated debate during a college government class and proclaimed that anyone who was so vehemently and hatefully against a woman’s right to choose was obviously someone who had never found themselves in what seemed to be a desperate situation. I was the lone voice of dissent in the class and, as a reward, found the windows of my car shoepolished and the word BITCH scrawled across the back window.

There was a time when I stood up and demanded to be escorted out of a room because I felt it was inherently wrong to preach to an audience of captives — even if I fundamentally agreed with part of the message.

There was a time when I fought my employer because I received less of a merit wage increase because I had been out on maternity leave for twelve weeks. I stood my ground even when it seemed I might get fired. I never got my full wage increase but the workplace policy was changed so that no one else would ever be penalized for taking maternity leave.

Last night, I stopped at Wal-Mart after taking in a showing of Dreamgirls with a friend. It was 10:15 pm and there were four cash registers open. Each of them had a line snaking out into the aisle and around corners. I had the same experience only a couple of weeks ago (which is only one of the reasons I despise Wal-Mart). (I would have gone to Target but they close at 10:00).

I digress.

I stood in the line with my fellow aggrieved shoppers and failed to catch the eye of a single employee. I was stumped for a moment. Then, I whipped out my cell phone, called information, and soon found myself speaking to the night manager.

“Wal-Mart, this is Kevin. How may I help you?”

“My name is Heather, Kevin. I am currently standing in a line at the checkout in your store. One of only four checkout lines, I might add. One of only four lines that happens to stretch across the aisle and around the corner.”

“I apologize ma’am. I am not sure . . . “

“Here’s the thing, Kevin. I counted five people restocking in cosmetics when I was buying hairspray. I see three people restocking in clothing. I see four people standing around at Customer Service. Yet there are only four people running cash registers.

“Kevin, I’m here to tell you that lines like these are absurd.”

“Yes, ma’am. I agree. I will try to get more cashiers to the front.”

“Thank you, Kevin. I appreciate that very much.”

I hung up amid smiles and thanks from my fellow shoppers as an overhead page rang out requesting cashiers.

I grumbled that Wal-Mart had just seen an historical drop in quarterly profits and still they were providing shoddy customer service and were they completely stupid?

There was another register opened by the time I left the store and the lines were slightly shorter. I felt good about that.

But I hung my head a little as I walked to my car. Has it really gotten to the point that all my fiery spunk is good for is opening up another cash register at Wal-Mart?

If so, I am so much more domesticated than I ever hoped to be.

I was cleaning out my bookmark folders tonight and came across a writing prompt that I saved because I am forever lacking inspiration for a post.  It turns out that writing prompts don’t really help me because the problem is never that I don’t have anything to write.  Rather, it’s usually that what I want to write is inappropriate for my blog.  I don’t mean that in the sense that the subject matter might be risque.  To me, “too personal” usually means “too close to my heart.”

I don’t share a lot of my thoughts here on my blog because I’ve always been the type to avoid chinks in my armor.  Vulnerability is the thing I fear the most.  Knowing that I have given away information that could be used against me causes such extreme anxiety in me that I reel from it for days afterward.

The question on the writing prompt was: What is changing in your life right now?

That question seems benign, I admit.  But normally I wouldn’t answer it.  It seems personal.  I don’t know why.

However, my very first thought after reading the question was: I am learning to be vulnerable.

It’s true.  I’m learning to share my fears with the people I trust.  I’m learning that there are people in my life who would never hurt me if they could possibly avoid it.  I’m learning that there may be some chinks in my armor but there are also people who love me who make up for my weakness with their willingness to step in as a sort of human shield when I am feeling particularly vulnerable.  I’m learning that all that armor is heavy and suffocating.  It feels good to step out of it now and then.

That’s what is changing in my life right now.

My husband and I bickered this morning.

What happened is that I opened the door to the bathroom (our bathroom is tiny) and hit him with it. He yelled, “OW!” I was rattled a little by his reaction and, rather than apologizing, I shot back, “Well, you shouldn’t be standing there!”

He felt I should be more concerned about his injury.

I feel that, after nearly 11 years of marriage, he should know better than to stand where I can hit him with the door.

I mean, really. Sometimes the man has no sense at all.

big things

I read this passage in The Color Purple by Alice Walker tonight:

” . . . you know how it is. You ast yourself one question, it lead to fifteen. I start to wonder why us need love. Why us suffer. Why us black. Why us men and women. Where do children really come from. It didn’t take long to realize I didn’t hardly know nothing. And if you ast yourself why you black or a man or a woman or a bush it don’t mean nothing if you don’t ast why you here, period.

So what you think? I ast.

I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ast. And that in wondering bout the big things and asting bout the big things, you learn the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, he say, the more I love.”

My phone rang at 6 AM this morning. It was my grandpa. I felt a cold shiver when Brad handed me the phone. Everyone knows I am asleep at 6 AM. A phone call at such an hour is often bad news.

But he was only calling to tell me that my grandmother had a doctor’s appointment later in the morning and he needed my help in obtaining a wheelchair to help her get in the building. I told him, Of course, Grandpa. I’ll be there early with a wheelchair. No problem.

His voice broke, “Thank you, Heather. You don’t know how much I love you. And how much I need you.”

I met my grandparents in front of the building as promised. My aunt was with them so all I really had to do was get the wheelchair. I tried to be more helpful. But mostly I just sat and chatted with them as we waited.

I helped Grandma back to the car after the appointment. I kissed her and walked around to the other side of the car and kissed my grandfather’s rough cheek. He thanked me and I protested that I had only found a wheelchair, that’s all. Tears swam in his eyes, “You did so much more than that.”

After my grandparents left, I went on about the business of my day. There was a matter plaguing me today. I spent a lot of time and energy worrying about it. The only time it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind, as a matter of fact, was when I was busy helping my grandmother. To me, it seemed like a big thing.

But tonight, when I sat down to check my e-mail, I had a letter from my grandfather saying:

“Heather I can not tell you how much I appreciate your help this morning. Your support of your grandma helps her any time she sees you. I thought about getting her up to the doctor’s office and knew I could not do that by myself so I called you. When I told her you would be there it helped her a lot . . .”

It occurred to me that what I thought was one of the big things today really was not a big thing at all. And what seemed like such a little thing — bringing a wheelchair for my grandma and sitting with her at the doctor’s — turned out to be a big thing.

I learned something today; love and kindness are always big things.

High School Meme

Fill this out about your YEARS of high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be.

1. Who was your best friend?
Marcey, Angie, Kirsten, Erica, Donna, Beverly

3. What kind of car did you drive?
First it was a pink and gold VW bug but I blew up the engine within a few months. After that, I drove a blue and silver GMC Sierra pickup.

4. It’s Friday night, where were you?
During football season and basketball season at the games….otherwise at someone’s house or at Saturday’s drinking milkshakes and eating french fries.

5. Were you a party animal?
nooooooooo

6. Were you considered a flirt?
um . . . I don’t think so. Maybe someone who went to high school with me can comment and clarify?

7. Ever skip school?
I skipped Government and French on a regular basis my senior year. I skipped plenty of other classes that year too. But I never skipped a choir class.

8. Were you a nerd?
nope

9. Did you get suspended/expelled?
no

10. Can you sing the fight song?
We didn’t have a fight song but I can sing our school song with alto harmony.

11. Who was your Favorite teacher?
Mr. Canfield

12. Favorite class
Choir

13. What was your school’s full name?
Hobbs High School.

14. School mascot?
Eagles and Lady Eagles

15. Did you go to Prom?
yes

16. If you could go back and do it over, would you?
Only if I could take the wisdom and maturity that I have now back with me.

17. What do you remember most about graduation?
I really don’t remember much about graduation. I don’t even remember which song the choir sang.

18. Who was your high school sweetheart?
My only real boyfriend was named Bill. I didn’t really “date” anyone else.

19. Where were you on senior skip day?
We didn’t have one.

20. Did you have a job your Senior year?
Yes. I was a lifeguard.

21. Where did you go most often for lunch?
La Fiesta

22. Have you gained weight since then?
uh, yeah.

23. What did you do after graduation?
Moved to another town, went to school, had a nervous breakdown, moved home, got pregnant, and got married.

24. When did you graduate?
1993

25. Who was your Senior prom date?
Brad. Yes, the same Brad I am married to now. But we went as friends. We didn’t date until two years later.

26. Are you going to your 10yr class reunion?
I went to my 10 year reunion. The best part was hosting a baby shower for my best friend and seeing all of the friends who attended. The second best part is when we all met at Kirsten’s dad’s house and swam in the pool. The actual reunion was kinda lame.

27. Who was your home room teacher??
I don’t remember my homeroom teacher’s name. Usually, she let me go to the choir room as soon as she took role.

28. Who will repost this after you? Maybe Bev? Maybe Marcey?

resolutions

I didn’t tell anyone except Brad about my New Year’s resolution because I have an embarrassing history of NEVAH keeping my most well-intentioned resolutions.

There was the time I resolved to give up caffeine. Then there was the time I resolved to exercise regularly. I’ve made the same mistake as lots of other women and resolved to lose ten pounds. I’ve resolved to go to bed earlier. I’ve resolved to expand my mind. I’ve even resolved to drag my hiney to Sunday School more often.

It never stuck.

But I am feeling good about this year’s resolution. So I am going to share it with you. So long as you promise not to throw it in my face if it all suddenly goes wrong.

But you wouldn’t do that to me, would you?

My New Year’s resolution for 2007 was . . . . to be more productive.

That’s all. Nothing fancy. Nothing complicated. I just want to be more productive.

One of the ways I am trying to be more productive is by cooking more meals at home. We were eating out entirely too much in the last several months. We all got tired of constantly eating food in noisy restaurants and fast food environments. I worried about the sodium content of the food and the lack of nutritional value.

But mostly, we all just missed sitting together in the peace of our home, at our beat-up, second-hand dining table to enjoy dinner and share conversation and stories of our day. Believe it or not, my youngest son actually asked me to cook instead of taking him to McDonald’s a few times.

The reason I am sharing my resolution now is because I am totally kicking ass and taking names in the cooking category! I’ve cooked most nights and I spent this entire evening cooking two pans of enchiladas –one to eat tomorrow night and the other to freeze and re-heat sometime in the near future when I am running short on time or energy.

But also?

I whipped up a breakfast quiche that I only have to stick in the oven when we wake up in the morning and voila! We will have a hot, delicious, and nutritious morning meal.

So, not only am I doing a great job keeping my resolution, I am even making my husband’s dream –of having a wife who will cook him breakfast instead of looking at him through sleep-glazed eyes partly obscured by tangled, bed-matted hair and telling him exactly where he can go for his so-called breakfast — come true.

Ka-chow

‘ello, lovie!

I know I have developed a frustrating habit of posting sporadically. When I wrote my last post, I had every intention of posting again the following day.

It’s not my fault this time. Honest.

I had a rash of bad luck last week. I had a few minor injuries: I sliced the palm of my hand while peeling potatoes, I burnt the roof of my mouth with hot food, and I accidentally poured boiling water over the back of my hand while draining some noodles.

That sounds bad enough, doesn’t it? However, none of the above are the reason I haven’t posted.

Thursday morning, I extended my left arm to hand Bump his lunchbox and was blinded by a stabbing pain that started next to my left shoulder blade and pierced through my diaphragm to my anterior chest. I gasped and leaned forward against the kitchen cupboard and waited for Brad to walk in the house.

I heard the front door swing open and I called out, “Brad? There’s something wrong with my back.”

The ten year old heard this and got rather excitable.

“Oh. My. Gosh. Can you move? Can you feel your legs?”

“Yes, Bump. I can move and feel my legs.”

I was trying to act calm and told Brad, “It hurts to breathe or stand up straight.”

Bump cried out, “Dad! Call an ambulance!”

Brad gently took my arm to help me to the bedroom and I cried out a little from the pain of that first step. Again, Bump yelled, “Dad! CALL AN AMBULANCE!”

I snapped, “I don’t NEED an ambulance so CUT IT OUT!” But I also realized that it is scary for a kid to see their parent hurt and so I kissed him on the cheek (the way I was bent over, I was already at eye level with him) and made my way back to the bedroom where I could lay on my heated mattress pad until the chiropractor’s office opened.

The chiropractor said that I had a quarter sized knot next to my shoulder blade where my muscle had spasmed and the pain in my chest was from a pinched nerve where a rib had shifted a little. By the time I left his office, I could breathe and stand straight with less pain but was plenty stiff and sore.

I came home that afternoon and took some pain pills. The act of sitting in my desk chair and typing at work was excruciating. I just wanted some relief.

A couple of hours after taking the pain pills, I was very sick to my stomach. I thought it was nothing more than the effect of the medication on a mostly empty tummy.

And now we get to my next big reason for not posting— the stomach bug.

It was definitely not the pain pills causing a sick stomach. I know this because I have only this morning rejoined the land of the living. I spent the last two days curled up on my heated mattress pad trying not to move my head because head movement seemed especially conducive to nausea and vomiting. When I had an attack of energy and/or a lack of nausea, I took the opportunity to call my friends and complain about how sick I was.

It wasn’t pretty.

But now I am back.  A little weak and achy. A little dehydrated. But back, nonetheless.

I’ll try not to be such a slacker from now on.

I have been sick with a stomach bug so this is all ya get from me today!

Your Lucky Underwear Is Red

You’re confident and bold, and your lucky red underwear will only make you more sure of yourself. You have a great zest for life, and you tend to take on impossible goals – and succeed. When it comes to love, it’s hard for you to take the time to open up. You’re too busy conquering the world. So if you’re looking for a little more romance, put on your red underpants. And see where their passion takes you!

What Color Is Your Lucky Underwear?