Living-Deliberately.com

We watched this last night….did you? I was hoping they’d have more coverage of the month of training. The show itself was candy but last night was the kind of night that called for a little of that. We had American Idol (your call…was a Zach a boy or a girl, or as David thought, a boy raised in an all-female household and terribly confused?), SWTS, sourpatch kids, and Switzer’s red.

On the commercial breaks we cracked each other up by thinking of some of the worst sounding words and phrases in common vernacular up here. On of David’s pet peeves is “chockablockfull”. He just hates the way it sounds. Of course, not far off was expressions his customers use (remember, these are auto-parts guys) like “pinch a loaf” so I’ll spare you what else turned up. Something about the coziness and candy of the evening brought out the kid in us though, or maybe the pre-pubescent immaturity, and we laughed till our sides hurt.

And then, in typical David fashion, he slipped from hilarity to intellect without enough of a segue for me to keep up and shared something he’d thought of while driving yesterday:

True Christianity is Reality Without Manipulation.

I love him. He and God…the center of my circles.

If you think of it, please say a prayer for him this week. In a rainstorm in Georgia this week his car hydroplaned *twice*. He fell at UPS twice the next day. The power steering pump in his car burned out and won’t be fixed until tomorrow. And this morning he was an hour late to UPS due to an alarm clock malfunction. He’s having a hard week.

“Blogging” had become popular long before I jumped on. I heard friends online talk about thier blogs and listened with indifference; I liked reading theirs but had no real desire to have my own. It wasn’t until we made the move to Tennessee and it occurred to me that blogging was a great way to update everyone on what we were doing. Sort of like a newsletter, and a chance to post pictures.

But that’s only the half-truth. Because no newsletter gives such a peep into a person’s inner self as a blog will reveal. Sometimes it’s fun to laugh at the narcissism in a blog…yes, IT”S ALL ABOUT ME!

A few years ago I saw what my funeral could look like, had I died right then. Poor David would have spent a large amount of energy just explaining to one group why the other group was there and how they fit into my life. The phrase, “I didn’t know she was into that” came up more than once. The revelation that I wasn’t “known”, really known, by anyone farther than the little corner I let them in, occurred to me.

It’s self-protection. Little walls up everywhere to avoid rejection. After all, rejection hurts, and letting someone in to know something they, by stereotype, are probably against, is risky.
This was true across the board. My parents only saw the side I let them and the side I knew didn’t rock thier world too much to know. Ditto my church world. Homeschoolers. Fellow art lovers. Music buddies….would not necessarily know I voted conservatively and spent over a year contemplating wearing a head covering in church. Book lists, thankfully full and diverse enough for categorizing, were segregated. Real life friends didn’t exactly know I had online friends that were close enough for me to travel out of state to visit.
I started to feel really hypocritical and at the same time hesitant to bring all the circles crashing into one another. They don’t exactly always mix. For instance, there are still church friends I have that simply shut down thier minds in confusion to fathom why in the world a “good girl” like me would go on a two year wine research project and become a moderate on the issue. I remember one day at one of my old churches I was standing in the kitchen with a good friend cooking. A new aquaintaince of ours came in; she’d known both of us for about 6 months, long enough to form some ideas of how we thought. My friend has her two girls in an excellent private school and of course, I homeschool mine. One of our favorite topics though was rock music. Oh, and pop…we spent a lot of time talking about John Mayer! Anyway, this aquaintaince came in and said she wanted to ask us each a question. She said she had a pretty good idea how each of us would answer but she wanted to ask anyway.

“Would you let your children read Harry Potter?”

My answer: “Yes! I love the books! I’ve read them all, have you?” (she had, and we went to the latest movie together, but that’s another post!)

My friend: “No…..”

And she was surprised. She’d figured the “conservative homeschooler” wouldn’t go near HP and the mom who “put her kids in school” wouldn’t be as picky.

It didn’t seem like just another case of stereotyping to me. It felt like an opprotunity to be authentic. In the end, I’m glad I was. This aquaintance turned out to be a big fan as well and we had several great conversations on the topic. It was a commonality that bonded us where otherwise our worlds would have barely touched. My circles converged.

Most christians, at least the ones in my history, would be okay with this idea on the flip side. Say for instance, I let my art school friends know that I’m a committed, reformed, christian. Then it can be seen as “witnessing”. And maybe it is. The best way to show someone Christ is to be authentic, to show you LIVE christianity. Remember the kinds of places Christ went while he was here? The kind of company he often kept? The accusations often made?

Only thing is, make no mistake: often when those circles converge, I’m not aiming directly to “get ‘em saved”. I’m not thier holy spirit. If they do come to Christ, and my example had anything at all to do with it, then fabulous. I want my light to show even if my mouth is shut. I want first though, to be authentic.I want to stand before God and know I was consistant and unafraid to find Him outside of my comfort zone. To be honest and true and to connect with people. To show the Love and then let the Holy Spirit do HIS work. I don’t approach people with the automatic assumption that they are miserable little sinners waiting for ME to come be the answer to all thier problems.
I love truth. Truth is sometimes beautiful. And sometimes, truth is unlovely. I think all truth is ultimately God’s truth, ‘else it can’t be….true. Truth, even the uncomfortable truth, is still WORTHY. So I’m all the time searching and going. Too often, when I find myself balking at something, it’s because the dust has settled in my mind and I’ve put God in a box again.
My blog sidebar will hopefully never hold links of pet ideologies. Maybe a few “this is what i’m currently contemplating” links. But I never want to find my identity in movements or seasons that come and go, and when they do go, leave me wondering who I am now that my little paradigm is all shook up. I want to authentic in all of my circles, even if that makes for a bit of a transition at times. I’m still going to protect little corners for private thought or a more full expression; we all need that from time to time. But at the various life-events that are no doubt coming…children’s weddings, holiday gatherings, family reunions, etc, I hope the members of my “circles” know one another exist. And if they don’t understand it, that they will at least trust that I gave it alot of thought and found it to have some merit worth my time.

Today I got a fantastic gift in the mail. My friend Kim, who to this point I’ve only known online but plan to meet soon for our piligrimage to Baton Rouge for a gathering of friends, sent me a mixed CD of her favorites. I’d been wanting to…well, for how long? Wanted to hear Ben Harper’s music for probably years. A discussion that mentioned him was the impetus for the idea since she’s been listening to him lately. In the midst of a move over the holidays she was going far and above anything I expected to not only sit down and mix this, but to actually get it in the mail!
The whole disc is great. Better than great…dance-in-the-kitchen music-with-a-goofy-grin kind of music. How often does one find a music kindred spirit? If you have taste like me, not often. Michael, Anna, Rick…a few more. And of course, David, my Best Friend and the kindred spirit that touches every corner and category and circle of my little life. When the discovery comes and the sound resonates, it’s a rare thing indeed.
The best thing about this mix: it’s quirky and different and yet fits me like a glove. Some of the artists I’ve never heard of..Billy Joe Shaver, Gillian Welch (she sounds alot like Mindy Smith with more raw edge), Southern Culture on the Skids…there’s also lots I do know and am happy to have a recording of: the weepy beauty of Dolly Parton and Emmy Rossum, “Come On Eilleen” by Dixie’s Midnight Runner, Jewel, Queen.

There’s a list of music that has had enough influence and pure time in my life to make it on “the soundtrack of my years”. Ben Harper’s music is going to make that list. Somehow with every review I’d read, every occassional pop into celebrity news that he made, I knew that his was music worth my investigation. This CD has two of his songs on it. “Steal My Kisses” is a FUN, sing-it-with-the-windows-down kind of beat that conjures up images of afternoon sunshowers, flowered dresses, and tossled hair. “Waiting on an Angel” is soft with a lazy edge, that reminds me of sleepy-sunshine, under a tree with the one who makes me feel beautiful, fingers barely touching and wine glasses empty.

I went looking for some info on Ben…turns out one of his favorite things is Coldplay. You can hear it in the understated truth of his lyrics. In a year when one of my bhags (big hairy audacious goals) was to learn to play the guitar, Ben’s sounds like the kind I want to play.

“So speak kind to a stranger, ’cause you’ll never know. It just might be an angel, knockin’ at your door. And I”m waiting for an angel and I know it won’t be long, to find myself in a resting place, in my angel’s arms.”

These are from the fall, old Sycamore pics, a yearly tradition that I didn’t think I’d posted yet. I took these in October.

I took this picture while playing around with Erin and Joel’s new camera over new years and called it “Winter In My Coffee Cup”. It’s a pretty accurate portrayal of mornings here…blue-grey sky with barren trees but cozy with a hot cup of steaming coffee inside.

Saturday did bring us snow, or rather, we took ourselves to it. By noon we’d had enough watching the flurries floating around Maryville…torture to snow lovers like us who longed for drifts of fluffy stuff. It was steadily falling but much too warm on the ground to stick, hence the moniker “sky dandruff”. We loaded up in the car, sleds included, in search of higher elevations and an afternoon of FUN.

We headed for Townsend and Cades Cove, the standby destination of newbies still learning the place and wanting to avoid the craziness that is Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. There was hardly another car on the road and the snow continued to increase as we drove along.

Getting up the winding path to the Great Smoky National Park includes what we not so lovingly refer to as “Throw Up Mountain”. I’ll let your imagination do the rest. But, it turns out, they close that road in snow. So our only option was to turn right, into Cades Cove, which turned out to be more than enough.

We twisted and turned and as we rounded each corner more snowy beauty greeted us. It was breathtaking really. Little evergreens covered in powder. Bare branches quietly frosted. It really did look as if a giant powdered sugar duster had just been sprinkled over us.

By the time we got to the loop road there were several inches on the ground and it was still falling. We made it to the Abram’s falls trail and headed out for a hike, sledding, snowball fights, and snow angels. We built a large snowman at the Grist mill and the baby crawled all over the place in pure delight.

It was our kids’ first time seeing snow and we had one of the most fun afternoons of our entire family life! The best hill was just past the Grist mill. We all took turns sledding, the baby on our lap too! We laughed and rolled and shrieked and ran and giggled and gasped at the amazing beauty all around us. Every view was like a christmas card or pretty puzzle scene.

The snow was crunchy and powdery and the perfect kind for making balls. There wasn’t any ice around and even though our clothing and mittens and such was a wet, inadaquate mess, we didn’t feel the cold for our absolute joy. The baby was a roly poly ball of cuteness in his little snowsuit; I got lots of pictures!

It renewed our hopes of finding affordable ski equiptment over the summer for next year. We are definately the kind of family who will use it often. We’re hoping to go again next weekend if there is snow, maybe even to ober gatlinburg if necessary. It was a fantastic way to spend a Saturday.

We came home and made hot pizza and hot chocolate. The kids crashed early and David and I watched a movie and snuggled. On monday morning, we’re still high…..

No snow. I KNEW it was too warm. They threaten more today… but the ground has been shone down upon by a sun and 60 degree weather all week. Any snow is going to melt a good couple of feet above the ground! There wasn’t even a heavy frost this morning. Up in the mountains it’s a different story entirely though. It’s maddening to be this close and yet so faaaaar away ;-).

Last night we watched March of the Penguins with the kids, and then after daddy started snoring on the couch, we continued to watch the making of the movie called Penguins and Men. Amazing what those creatures go through for ONE egg. So many babies die. And the sounds of the penguin parents when they’ve lost…so evident they are grieving and understand the magnitude of the waste that they’ve suffered through.

Most DVD’s these days come with an option to have the director’s commentary run through the film. Well, we kind of had our own……

W: What do penguins eat?

C: This is boring.

A: Hey look! It’s like a wagon train (as the birds make thier single-file line over 70 miles)

W: Do people hunt and eat penguins? Do people catch them and keep them as pets?

Morgan Freeman, the narrator: “This march will last for days”

C: this MOVIE is going to last for days.

W: Are seals penguins? How do penguins have birthdays?

David: we are LISTENING. If you LISTEN, you can hear the narrator answer all your questions!

W: They’re sledding! How come penguins don’t fly?

A: these birds like uniformity.

C: oh look! They’re special hugging!

A: I’ve seen mom and dad do that.
W: do the dad’s lay the eggs?

Morgan Freeman: “the blizzard assults the birds and they huddle in one single mass, one solitary unit”

W: why do they go there if they’re gonna FREEZE?

A: that’s pretty much like a sandstorm!

Morgan Freeman: “the father birds pass of the chicks to the mothers and go and eat for the first time in over 4 months”.

C: dad would never just LEAVE US that way!

A: Is that water cold?

W: they are just kids with costumes on.

A: It would be pretty boring to sit under a penguins belly for a few months.

Mom: Oh look at the babies! Aren’t they so cute!

C: Moooom. Stop goin’ on about it. They aren’t gonna be so cute when they DIE.

Morgan Freeman: “the birds reuinite and do a beautiful dance as a new family.”

C: Why do they do that with thier necks?

A: because they’re happy.

and need to get over myself some days. This much is true.

Mt. Laundry still resides in the dining room but we got through yesterday fine, when it was all said and done. Today’s to-do list is crazy-long but there’s cash in my pocket and the sun waited for me. It should be a good one.

This morning I was reminded what  a great blessing the UPS job is for David. He works with several music ministers and pastors, “salt of the earth” guys in his words.  They have fantastic morale, excellent safety and performance records, and otherwise have a great time together. Since they are from different denominations their conversation often sounds like the jokes that starts out, “there was a priest, a pastor, and a rabbi…” . One of the guys is a farmer and brings in fresh pork products; this morning it was a pork loin roast with the trimmings as a celebration for hitting a performance record. David comes home charged for his day, encouraged and strengthened.

We almost had a date night tonight. One thing that year 7 taught us was to not get so absorbed in our own work that we dont’ take time out and a change of scenery to communicate. Date night isn’t happening tonight but it will before the month is out and that’s a GOOD thing! Down to our very pores we can feel the longing for a bit of uninterupted time and the happy vibes of “dinner and a bookstore”.

Somewhere there’s a rumor that we’re getting real snow tonight and that the mountains are getting 4 inches or more. It’s been very warm all week so I don’t see how in the world the white stuff is gonna stick…I’ll beleive it when I see it!

I wonder why my little “systems” never work. On a discussion website I frequent (wow…that’s such an inadequate way to describe what that place means to me, but there simply are no words for it), they are talking a bit about some sons who struggle with daily organization. I’ve always felt I related a bit to these boys…like we are all in one ADHD kind of club. I’ve even touted my own ability to create my own systems for coping.

And in some ways, I have a few that have stuck. I know, for instance, that to get through dish washing without walking away that I need to have something else for my brain to focus on, like a radio show. Or TV while folding laundry. That I must have a dayplanner that gets updated at least weekly; daily will never happen. I know that when I spend too much time out doing activities that I have to compensate with at least one down day for every two out. When cleaning, I always make the bed first. On and on…they are little strategies for functioning in my world.

So, two weeks ago when I added two HUGE categories to my life, I created a system for making it happen. One to focus mostly on work, the next on housework and school, in a pattern.

Worked fabulously until I hit a snag. Always does. This particular snag was lice last weekend. We pushed through the weekend and it looked like we just might’ve stayed on track….only it never materialized. By mid-week David, my teammate, was gone essentially for the rest of the week and all energy seemed to go with him. The laundry is still piled high, one old washer and dryer just not able to perform fast enough. The whole house is going to overtake me. School is going great ironically. Only a little work on the businesses has happened. Important progress, but not as much as I’d expected with my “system”.

And I don’t know who I’m foolin’ because if I had to work a traditional job, it would probably go great for 6 months and then I’d peter out. Any task it involved would have become old hat and thus boring. I’m not an idiot…this is primarily an issue of self-discipline. The need for it grows commenserate with the time that passes; I’m continually pep-talking myself through whatever task has become so obtuse. Often what makes it worth it for me is the commraderie of teamwork I feel with David. And, when I lag, some cheerleading from him is usually all it takes to get me going again.

Elizabeth Elliot says, “do the next thing”. Absolutely sage wisdom for those like me, who need to break things down and not get overwhelmed with the enormity of things. Flylady’s on the same page with her “shine your sink and wear your shoes”. Laced shoes send a signal to the brain that it’s time to get some work done. It never fails me…a little ’system’ that pays off big. Dave Ramsey says, “get intense” or “get in attack mode”, so that we put all that energy of procrastination and discouragement and anger into something positive and productive.

Today we get back to life. American Heritage Girls with the addition of choir and a parent’s meeting. Scouts, with the addition of fundraising popcorn and a committee meeting. One child is sick and in bed. David has been, and will be, gone, working hard on his end. I ardently pray it pays off. I love our activities and I definately love the ones we get to to do them with…so my resisitance confounds me. The day is bright and beautiful and the kids have gotten along great this week. The baby took a few steps this morning.

It’s probably time to crawl out of my navel and get moving, one thing at a time.

• Wheaton: “We can’t go to sleep tonight, okay?” Me: “Why’s that?” him: “I’ve lost my old-gah and don’t know where to find it”. Oh you poor little kitten….well if last night’s sleep tally isn’t to be repeated, we ARE going to find old-gah in record time! This momma’s gettin’ some sleep!
• Celia’s “book” she wrote: “Onze upon a tim there was a fery dry land. Thar was also a pand. The pand was wet but the land was dry. The end.”
• on pondering “baby steps” and how much effort goes into them. We use the term to describe breaking a process down into manageable pieces. But what are they really? Five months ago Rowan stood. Two months after that he started walking while holding onto things, cruising. Three weeks ago he finally let go and stood alone for a few seconds. Now, about every other day, we coax him into taking ONE step between us. It will probably be another two weeks or so before he takes off on his own. And then one day he’ll run. How often do we get discouraged when we have two whole months between the seemingly small progress of standing and crusing?
• David is in Dalton today, selling to customers who are completely new. He most likely has sold today more than he needs for him entire month of minimum sales numbers.
• my friend Sarah’s blog has excellent homeschooling encouragment on it this morning. Honey for my heart after Celia’s math lesson today….
• the porch now officially has only the rocker and the swing on it; all boxes have been found homes, or in some cases, simply different waiting places. Perhaps our neighbors will drive by and sigh with relief that no, we really weren’t going to leave that stuff out there permanently!
• today’s rolls were more wheat than half and half and are lower and more dense to show for it. better eat ‘em quick; they’ll be little hockey pucks within hours.

It’s good afternoon for some jazz. or blues. Definately a Nina day. “Birds flyin’ high, you know how I feel. Sun in the sky, you know how i feel. Breeze driftin’ on by, you know how I feel. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me yeah. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, and I”m feelin’ good.” Well, not really but Nina will no doubt get me there. Sometimes you just gotta ride the mood.

My friend Becky recently celebrated her 29th anniversary; a number we hope to attain having surivived and worked through Year Seven ;-). We also had an anniverary, our 11th, to be celebrated in earnest a month late, when time and funds allow for a proper observation. She shared these poems today on a site we both frequent and I loved them at once and had to have them for my own. Here they are: enjoy!

A Dedication to my Wife:

To whom I owe the leaping delight,

that quickens my senses in our waking time

and the rythm that governs the repose of our sleeping time,

the breathing in unison

of lovers whose bodies smell of each other

Who think the same thoughts without need of speech

and babble the same speech without need of meaning.

No peevish winter wind shall chill

No sullen tropic sun shall wither

the roses in the rose garden which is ours and ours only

But this dedication is for others to read:

These are private words addressed to you in public.

T. S. Elliot

and…

The Shirt

The shirt touches his neck

and smooths over his back.

It slides down his sides.

It even goes down below his belt-

down into his pants.

Lucky Shirt.

-Jane Kenyon

in other poetry reading news, visit my friend Sarah’s blog for an utterly beautiful poem about her father’s hands. Words have such power. I love them.

I don’t think I’ll ever be the type of girl to hit the ground running on Monday morning. Even if the weekend was a good one with plenty of rest, it seems to take much coffee and a good day or so before I’m ready to lace up my shoes and get serious.

So it’s with a heavy fog that I finally rolled out of bed this morning, an hour and a half late. In my defense, I was up very late and worked very hard yesterday. On my day of rest? YUP. During the worship service one of our chickens was caught scratching thier head madly; a quick check revealed LICE once more.

Sigh. What would have been much, much worse would have been finding it this morning, AFTER playing with all the kids at a psalm-sing, AFTER David went to work and I was on my own. I told myself this while I stripped every bed, vacuumed every surface, washed all the coats, hats, mittens. David cleaned and vacuumed the cars and helped search out nits. Irradicating lice isn’t complicted but it does take an extreme amount of work. And missing just one or two means doing it all over next week.

It’s almost sensless to try and figure out where it came from. Or at least it seems that way in a month where we’ve not been out much due to the holiday break. A few trips to the store, a borrowed hat, a hair cut at a cheap place…they all could have been the culprit. I’ve just got a mountain of laundry facing me still.

The day home, rather than at the park on the first warm day in weeks, or at the Psalm sing with friends, did have one marvelous event: W learned to ride a two-wheeler! It was an exciting moment and the result  of one of the rare times the kids all worked together as a team. A and C had decided it wasn’t much fun riding around the yard without W too and since he couldn’t make in the grass with training wheels, they became his biggest fans. A took the wheels off, the whole time encouraging W that he could do it (and actually, he’s been able to for a long time since the wheels rarely touched the pavement at once. It was primariliy a mental hurdle). C helped him get on and off he went, down the grass, across the driveway and down the slope to the back yard.

He got off and said, “that was the awesomest!” And later, when our Magic Cookie Bars became “Two Wheeler Bars”, he said, “Oh wow! I’m so proud of myself!”. Gotta love it!

Around 10 pm we had enough sheets and blankets dry to get them into bed. I’m starting the week with a house and car cleaner than most Mondays. That’s a good thing. Oh, and almost miraculous is that the treatments didn’t cost so much as to sabatague our cash plan! My coffee is gone and so are the two-wheeler bars. The baby’s morning nap is over and the day calls. David’s put in a meeting and is probably out of town by now. It’s a gorgeous, wamer-than-normal that beckons me outside. Surely there is something to do in the yard…..

In another life I wanted to be a colorist and illustrator. What’s a colorist? Well they are those who have the nifty job of taking someone’s black and white drawing (often a cartoon) and coloring it with dimension. Ever watch someone take ordinary crayolas and transform a child’s coloring book page? Well, that was one of my ambitions once upon a time. I see in hues and layers and tones.

Life has taken many turns along the way. Alongtime ago the dream of going to SCAD was set aside, though in another season of life I may still pursue it…just for the heck of it. After all, while mothering young children requires alot of self-sacrifice, it is only for a time. Eventually they will need me less and I could, perhaps, take some time for art study.

It’s funny though. Even as my mind has diligently shelved the fruition of that longing away, my eyes continue to hone the ability to see layers. I am a hyper personality for sure, but my senses are even more so. I’m thankful for this…it makes enjoying the little things and finding the marrow in ordinary situations much easier.

And so, it occurred to me yesterday, that purple is an earth tone. Not just purple…but taupe, and beige, and every shade of grey. My old box of Prismacolors had 17 shades of grey pencil. I used to look at them and wonder where I’d find in nature the various warm and cool shades, the ones with gentle tinges of yellow or red but were still quite “grey”. And the purples…the lavendars, the periwinkles, the pale magenta that was the perfect blend of warmth and coolness. After all, purple is a blend of red and blue, a warm and cool respectively. And not much in the landscape of my life supported that these were earth tones.

But they are. You find them in winter. I supose in areas that get much more snow than here blue may be the predominant tone. And a very cool, almost icey purple. But here, where it seems to be cold just for the sake of honoring the fourth season, and all is barren and drab, earth tones I’d never seen before suddenly pop.

And olive and purple are not just “eggplant” colors…they are the colors of a bank of trees, with cedar mixed in amongst the hardwoods. And that warm grey becomes the mist. And the water…oh, the water. Depths of green, with grey and browns. It’s so shallow, as they have drained the mighty rivers.

This was all noticed and inhaled as I drove aimlessly around Oak Ridge yesterday. True to form, after leaving Maryville, even to head to a familiar place, I quickly got lost. I’d never been to Oak Ridge before…that legendary town that has a secret past and is suposed to no longer be hidden. I don’t know much about it…but driving through, you can feel it.

It’s creepy and ominous. Acres and acres of private land with good roads between, obviously leading to important places yet somehow giving the impression of being in the midst of nowwhere. I took the wrong road and ended up in the middle of a major, MAJOR complex with a multitude of security checks. Words from the Rats of Nimh ran through my head and the kids were quiet for the first time on the whole trip. After somehow escaping that by nothing more than innocently driving through, I found myself in the center of a town quite obviously constructed in order to support the previous complex.

You know how most towns have neighborhoods right next to each other with different income levels represented? Well I didn’t see that in Oak Ridge. Street after street was well-kept but weary looking lower to middle class homes, all older, and all begging to tell a story. They had the ususal stuff…hospitals and clinics, a company bank, some fast food.

It just had a weird vibe.It was ordianry…and yet somehow, not. There seemed to be more power lines than most places. More than were necessary. Traffic was almost non-existant. The two ladies who helped me with directions home were very friendly even though I half expected them to not have any idea how to get to the next town over!

They are just normal American citizens I supose. It’s probably my overly-active imagination. They had roads named “Laboratory” instead of “Main”. Weird. Just plain Wierd.

But rich in earth tones. All that drab…the old homes, the cars in the yard, the rust stains beneath window ac units, the skeletal trees and the rolling hills…it’s all winter. There’s a pencil for every tone in the prismacolor box; you just have to know where to look for it.

Wearing purple makes me feel “brown”. Not a pretty brown either, but an unflattering burnt sienna. There’s something about it that’s all wrong. Something garish with a dull wash over it. Like a town that is suposed to be normal, and welcoming visitors to “come and see”, there is a sensation just below the surface that keeps one squirming and the deisre is to make a dash for it and peel it off.

I used to love going grocery shopping. I remember in high school it was one chore my mom happily let me have and I’m thankful for the practice it gave me in list making, planning, and price shopping. My favorite days to shop were rainy and grey at mid-morning, dressed in comfortable jeans, a long-sleeved knit shirt, and a raincoat. Not many chances for that in sunny Florida but now and then it did occur.

Fast forward a few years and it became something I dreaded almost as badly as dental work. Well, maybe not that bad! But close. Shopping with four young children is hellacious. The stupid stores place all kinds of obstacles that the average single shopper probably doesn’t recognize as hazards to sanity, but they are there.

Take, for instance, the coupon dispensers placed up and down the aisles. To young kids with active imaginations these are “play money” that magically spit into thier hands with a flashing, beeping button. They look like child’s toys. If you ever get a cart that is full of these, crumpled in the bottom, say a prayer for the mother who used that cart last. She’s probably crying with exhaustion.

Or, consider the cardboard displays stuck at an angle, making the store’s boast of thier “wide aisles” seem laughable. Try manuevering a cart, with a reaching toddler, two olders on either side and a five year old at the helm trying to “help” steer and see how few you can manage not to hit. Don’t forget there’s an older person contemplating which brand of basil to try for several minutes. Or that the lady in the powersuit dashing in for a cart full of processed suppers in 3 mintues flat is glaring at you and ignoring your “exuse me” and wane smile. Come within inches of her and she may growl.

And that’s in the middle of August, months away from the holidays. That’s a whole ‘nother ballgame. Dont’ forget the bright lights, germy “quarter games”, and bright colors that all aggravate hyperactivity. Compounded with the need for concentration, attention to a budget and avoiding impulse buys, and it’s enough to make any woman weep.

Which brings me to…anyone wanting to consider “volunteering my time” as a new year’s resolution would be a saint to offer to a young mother babysitting for the time it takes her to do her grocery shopping.

In my world, relief has come in a different form. With this move, we now live practically across the street from a well-kept, 24 hour Kroger. I can now head to the store quite painlessly right after I’ve put the baby to bed. Or early in the morning when David is still home but the kids aren’t up yet. Or in the middle of the night when I’m still up but everyone else has been down for hours.

Grocery shopping has become my favorite chore again. And it’s different this time…much different.

I now shop with cash. I’ve resisted the whole cash thing because my undisciplined self tends to loose clumps of it in impulsive, untracked ways. I do a pretty good job of sticking to my budget with my debit card and that’s been my defense for several years. But “pretty good” doesn’t count any more. We’ve had a hard time getting the momentum going on our Dave Ramsey plan and “going cash only” is the recommendation. So last week was my first time.

It takes a HUGE amount of concentration. Nix the kids hanging off the cart and the entire above scenario. The first week, I took an extra forty dollars and was still so scared I wouldn’t have enough at the counter that my palms were sweaty and I nearly peed my pants. I was fine though…came in several dollars UNDER budget! I faithfully stuck my change in the “food” envelope for mid-week milk runs and felt myself burst with pride. Real progress!

Last night, after a long day’s work and a draining emotional upset, I headed out alone. Peace, quiet. I took David’s “grown up” car. It was dark and still; we’d had a gorgeous psuedo-spring day and it was quite warm. I had the house windows open all day and I rolled down the car window on my short drive to the store. Wind. Air. Relief.

The store was almost vacant. I had ample quietness and peace to stick to my meal plan and grocery list. Even found a few extras for tea time with the kids. Paid with cash and realized with glee that I am now sucessfully spending less on food than I did ten years ago, when it was just the two of us! And my cup runneth over…we had good produce, veggies, fish, cheese, cheese, and more cheese, and all good things.

Changing my mindset to eating seasonally has made a huge difference. Careful meal and menu planning is even more important. Maybe I’ll even don a raincoat one of these days and sing along to the piped in music….

Our little hen is in her room writing a song. I”m not sure of the name but the words go like this, “I’m getting better and better as I get older and I’ll keep on going ’till the sun goes down”.

Me too girlfriend. Me too.

These are images from my new 2006 kitchen wall calendar by Maxfield Parrish, an early 20th century illustrator. Every year I try to pick a calendar that will increase my art knowledge and provide something beautiful to glance at. Buying late this year meant much of the selection was picked over; in the past I’d already had the Monet, Van Gogh, and black and white photography offerings the book store had remaining on thier shelves. This one caught my eye for his deep skies and gorgeous trees that seems to pulse with life right on the page. And even better, I got it for half off since the new year has already begun!

I hope the transition to a new blog home is going to be sucessful. I’m still gathering the bookmarks for my morning “blog roll”…I am a creature of habit and I’d grown very fond of visiting the same certain blogs every morning. This key board too, takes some getting used to…it’s faster, flashier, and noisier. It seems appropriate to make all these changes with the start of the start of the year, and while I beleive that every once in awhile we ought to “shake up” our comfort level, I kind of long for the relaxation being settled can bring.

We are now working on three new business ideas with aggression. 2006 is going to be a year of DELIBERATE progress and prosperity. Our goal is to double our income and continue on Dave Ramsey’s baby steps in the Total Money Makeover. Another goal is to work HARD on work we love. We can see where we want to be and we can see how we need to get there.

The sun is shinning brightly this morning; a false spring but a welcome day of warmth to be sure. While I’m anxious for snow, my body feels the absense of the sunshine. Our hill in the back is a mixure of tree shade and bright light and the birds are twittering. I’ve promised the kids a trip to the greenbelt and it’s going to be a wonderful day for it. Celia read a whole book to me this morning; her reading progress is taking flight. Wheaton is blending sounds and definately on his way. Speaking of flight, Andrew is building a model bi-plane with rapid speed and interest. He’d probably spend all day on it if it didn’t need breaks for glue to dry.

It’s a day for lace up shoes and flylady and staying on top of things. Managing six potential streams of income, plus homeschooling and mothering, is going to take diligence. We still have scads of boxes to sort and absorb. And there are the ever-present strains of thought…as we worship and learn and contemplate and create. Somewhere there will be time for it all.