Archive for category Rambling in Progress
You, know, sometimes you realize you are in a situation, one you never, ever expected, and wonder, “Dear God, why me?”
I had one of those very, ummm, interesting incidences a few months back. At the time, I thought, this story is completely bloggable but I wasn’t sure how to put it to protect the guilty. Or whatever. But I’ve done some thinking and now I’m sure I can safely share this story.
But I’m warning you…it’s crazy!
I have a very good friend who is recently divorced. Now, I’m certainly not a big fan of divorce but what this girl was going through was rough.
One of the reasons she was getting the divorce was due to drug use by her husband. Admittedly, this girl had participated in this with her husband before, but was trying to change her life. Her husband found her new way of thinking as boring and often claimed she was “not any fun” since her change of heart. This is just part of the reason the divorce took place, but I’m sharing this part because it comes up as a big part of this story.
While this couple was separated, my friend would sometimes stop by her old home to collect things of hers or her boys. Her husband knew she had a key and this didn’t seem to be a problem at all.
One day, while my husband and I were actually getting ready to go to a Spiritual Discipline conference at a neighboring church, I receive a phone call.
The phone call is from my friend, who is in tears. Sobbing. She wants to know if my kids are home. Hmmmm…
I tell her they are actually loading up in their grandparents vehicle at the time. She was going to babysit for us to go to the conference.
Still crying she asks, “Can I come over? I’ve done something stupid and I don’t know what to do now!”
I assure her that she can come and we will help the best we can. All sorts of things are going through my mind. I have a feeling it’s bad, but as good an imagination as I have, I couldn’t figure out what could have my friend so upset.
My kids pull out and my husband comes in. I inform him that my friend is stopping by and that she’s upset. We are pondering what could be going on when she pulls up in the drive.
She walks in my house apologizing, hoping we don’t get into trouble. I’m beginning to get nervous, but I pretty much trust this friend. Then she begins…
She went by her old house to pick up a few things. She needed to go to the bathroom and when she gets there she sees this on the counter…
And she opens her purse and pulls out a plastic bag of white powder.
I’m dumb and innocent (in some ways) and ask what is that?
“Meth” my friend and husband say at the same time.
This is when I’m asking that question to God, about why me. I’m sitting here looking at a bag, I’m guessing is a large amount of drugs, sitting right there on my coffee table in my living room. It’s holding around two cups of white powder.
She then bursts into explanations. “I saw it and freaked. I grabbed it thinking I’d bring it to the police, and then while driving away I thought, Oh my gosh, I’ve got drugs in my car! I couldn’t decide what to do. I almost brought it back, but then I just couldn’t think so I called you guys…”
Well, since I haven’t a clue what to say I ask, “Ummm, is that a lot?”
My friend, who has a drug history, says all the drugs she’s seen in her entire life didn’t add up to that much. Then she bursts into tears, apologizing and asking what she should do. Should she bring it to the police, should she return it to his house? More tears.
My husband, who is a rock, let me tell you, takes control.
He calms my friend down. He tells her we will call the police from our house, explain the situation. They may yell at us but we are reporting what happened. It will be okay.
And that’s what he did.
Funny thing is, I’m sitting here wondering how long I must keep illegal drugs in my house before an officer gets here. Josh kept getting redirected over and over again as to who he should be calling. It took an hour for an officer to get here.
But my friend had finally calmed down. I get her to eat something.
Then the officer pulls up.
My husband explains the story, and as predicted, he yells at my friend. But after he chews her out really good, he turns nice-cop on us and tells us what to do.
He takes the offending bag off my coffee table (thankyouthankyou) and shows sincere astonishment at the amount in the bag. He claims this could be one of the biggest drug busts in awhile (yay! from my house!). He has my friend follow him to the police station in her car to give a report.
I offer to go pick her kids up from daycare and deliver them to her parents. I tell them the story and utterly shock them. They offer to meet me halfway to pick up her kids so that my husband and I can still make our conference.
I drive up to the meeting place, and lo and behold, there is my friend waiting to get her kids. I was shocked, thinking she would be tied up at the police station for awhile. She gets out of the car laughing, telling me I’d forgotten my cell phone and she couldn’t get me on the phone.
She had followed the officer to the police station. They had run a quick test on the contents of the bag…the offending white powder was nothing but epson salt.
Alas, there still have been no illegal drugs in my house! Of which I am greatly relieved!
* slept until 8
* ran errands
* rocked Rebekah for about 2 hours
* had a friend and her kids over for lunch and sprinkler play
* oversaw the making of paper dolls, paper masks, paper water bombs and newspaper hats
* took a long nap (I know, I shouldn’t need a nap when I sleep that late!)
* played a Battleship with Landon
* played Scrabble with Shiloh and Landon
* picked Scrabble up a second time after Bekah got it back out and dumped it all over the living room.
* washed and dried two loads of laundry
* swept the kitchen, dining room, and living room
* checked the mail
And it’s not even dinnertime yet!
Oh, guess what’s for dinner? Grilled steak and baked potatoes! Yum! (Oh, did you hear I was dieting?? Shhhh…..)
When my husband and I were married we were the owners of one set of sheets that fit our bed.
There’s really nothing quite like being terribly exhausted, having stayed up way too late, and walking to your bedroom, giddy with the thought of crashing into the depths of your pillows and mattress for a few hours of unconscious bliss, only to remember when you see your naked bed that your sheets are still in the washing machine and you have forty minutes until they will be dried.
So, when Grandma Mary (my husband’s lovely, wonderful grandmother) offered us a bag of old sheets, I happily accepted. Inside the bag were two sets of rather dated looking sheets. One had green and aqua stripes and one had pinkish and blue stripes. Both would have looked great in a 70′s bedroom. I couldn’t get too excited about them, although I was grateful.
I truly thought, when I first set my eyes upon them, that they would work great for emergencies (like sheets needing to be changed in the middle of the night, thank you babies, or when I was a dunce and forgot to finish, or start, the laundry).
But then, something crazy happened. I slept on them.
And oh! The unbelievable softness. The wonderful feeling of those old sheets. They. are. perfect. There are no other words to describe them.
More often than not, the sheets (and yes, more than one set now) that match my bedroom, the ones in the colors I like, sit folded in the window seat cabinet, in case of emergencies.
The sheets you will find on my bed look dated. They look old. They look out-of-style. They are worn.
And they totally rock!
Since my sheets no longer match my comforter, I also didn’t feel so bad kicking it to the side and covering our bed with a blanket an older lady quilted for me when I was just a baby. It’s a yellow, Sunbonnet Sue patterned quilt. The fabric is worn so that the batting is sticking out in places.
I adore it.
And then, there’s the jeans.
You see, I’m a blue jeans girl if ever there was one. I love a good pair of blue jeans. And I have nice, grown-up, tailored jeans to wear. But what pair are you most likely to find me in?
The oldest pair in my closet. With fabric so worn in places it will soon not be there. A frayed hem. Paint splatters!
I bought these jeans several years ago, actually in my pre-Rebekah and much skinnier days. I accidentally bought them quite a bit large (which is lucky because that means I can still wear them). I bought them to wear on a mission trip I was taking to Mexico, where we would be hanging drywall in a church building. I wore them again on a second mission trip where we painted a church.
They are in a sorry condition.
And I love them.
What items do you have that you cannot bear to part with, in spite of their complete worn out state? I’d love to hear your stories!
Guess how I’m spending my summer?
Obviously roasting my poor, pallid, not used to sunshine skin!
That’s what I get for spending not one, but two days at the pool. And for being of Irish heritage. Yes. My shoulders, nose and the tops of my thighs are tender to the touch and a lovely (or not) shade of dark rose.
Add that to beginning to work out on Saturday, and I’m one tired, achy, sore chic.
And we have beach plans for Saturday. Maybe I’ll be healed by then. And buy some better sunscreen.
Ah summer-what power you have to make us suffer and like it!
Well, not a white Christmas. Even though that would be nice. Just not likely. We’ve run the air conditioner several times this December. But mostly we are enjoying almost spring like weather, sans the colorful azalea blooms! It’s pretty stinkin’ warm here. And I’m starting to think I should just adopt the Kenny Chesney mindset of “All I want for Christmas is a really good tan”, head down the road to the beach, and be content with this sultry, southern, crazy weather, Christmas.
Of course, if it were cold, it wouldn’t likely snow anyway. What is this snow you talk about? I know nothing of the sort.
Okay, I’m done. With weather talk anyway.
Whew! Have I really not written since the Thanksgiving holiday? This season is flying by much faster than I am comfortable with. It’s been hectic, but fun. Well, since school let out anyway. We have baked, watched Christmas movies, been in Christmas programs (well, Josh and Landon have been), visited the City of Lights Victorian Christmas Festival, been on horse drawn buggy rides (no sleighs my friends. Sob.), and I’m possibly almost done with Christmas shopping! Yippeee!!!!
With six kids opening gifts, I must say, that even when you commit to a simple Christmas, the present stack turns massive. In hopes of not sounding absolutely materialistic, I’m going to confess… I become absolutely giddy!! (But don’t tell me kiddos, I’ve been talking all the right talk about things not being important, people are, it is more blessed to give than to receive, and if I hear “I want” come out of your mouth one more time I’m gonna….well, you get the picture!)
We are enjoying ourselves though. Staying busy, and planning to have a grand Christmas! Here’s a picture of my serious elves, for your enjoyment!
And then…some seriously silly elves.
And of course, baby elf rides Daddy elf…
And the event that makes the girls giddy with happiness…”Dashing through the streets, in a two-horse open buggy…”
And there’s that nutty elf, trying to jump out while it’s driving…what a goober!
I’m dreaming of a Merry Christmas.
Hope you and yours are having a delightful Christmas season!
When I first began blogging, it consumed me. Shocking I know.
I’ve now turned into one of those bloggers who you really wonder if they should call themselves bloggers, they post so infrequently. I don’t know how it happened…going from daily (or more) posts to weekly (or less) posting. I guess life got busy. But really, when I look back, it’s always been busy.
I guess I’m just
wasting filling my time with other things! Don’t ask me what though. I’m sure I don’t know.
But anyway, that got wordy.
When I first started posting, I daily checked out the TTLB site. Oh how it hurt to see myself labeled as an Insignificant Microbe! I just knew I was destined for a Higher Being! I mean, I have such important things to say…right? The day I graduated to a Wiggly Worm was happy indeed. And I seemed to skip right over the Multicellular Microorganism. Ah. Life was good.
I think I pretty much stopped at Slithering Reptiles. I didn’t mind too much. I had figured out by then I really wasn’t destined to be a Higher Being at all (wasn’t that an epiphany). Not even a Mortal Human. And I was content. Besides, slithering reptiles are pretty cool. I like snakes.
So Slithering Reptile I was. For ages. Okay, maybe not ages. But months. And boy, was I the faithful blogger. When I missed a day my blogging buddies were all asking where I was. I had established myself in the blogosphere.
Then, I stopped blogging. Not completely, but I really cut back. To like, oh two or three posts a month. Needless to say, my traffic slowed a bit too. I’m not sure I get why. I mean, why wouldn’t anyone like to visit an almost dying blog?
But the funny thing is, I’ve slowly crept up in the ecosystem. I am now a Marauding Marsupial. And I fall just behind David Limbaugh in the ecosystem. Someone who wrote a book that I actually own. How? I know not. But I think it’s kinda cool! For me…not him. Poor guy.
Um hello. Today was crazy. Crazy!!
Oh yeah, and this just might be the longest post ever. So, either skip reading here or get comfortable! By the way, if you make it through reading this long, rambly post, you get rewarded with a picture of a gorgeous girl! And, if you wanna cheat, and just scroll down and get a peek, well, I’ll understand. In fact, I wouldn’t blame you!
If I began to explain to you our current luck with vehicles you would laugh because you thought I was exaggerating or you would run away from me as fast as you could because I am cursed. Let me tell you, I’m not exaggerating, so you might wanna lace up those running shoes!
We currently have two vehicles in the shop. My minivan with cracked head gaskets, and my husbands jeep with a messed up clutch. In January, my husband’s truck (not the one in the shop now, the one this one replaced) had a motor go out in it. In February, my car had the motor go out in it. Bleck. Dumb cars.
We are currently, while we wait for the very, very, very, very, very, very, very slow mechanic to fix our vehicles, driving my sister-in-laws car (because she is a very nice person). We have seven people in our house right now. Her car seats five. Needless to say, we are saving a lot of money on gas. Which we will need to pay the mechanic, so that’s good.
Well, my husband and brother-in-law, David, had a softball game tonight. David stopped by and picked up a few of our younguns and so we were all able to go to the softball game. After the game tonight, another team was short a few players and asked Josh and David if they wanted to play with them. They enjoy playing, and like to play as much as possible, so they were eager to play.
I however, had five, very thirsty, very hot kiddos. But it was getting dark and cooling off. I didn’t mind staying, I just wanted some liquid refreshment before I had five cases of dehydration on my hands. Neither Josh or I had cash and can you believe the concession stand doesn’t take a debit card? What’s up with that?
So, I take the babies, leave Josh the big kids, and go after drinks. The closest gas station has suspicious characters loitering outside, and poor lighting, and bars on the windows. I didn’t relish the idea of hauling the littles into the gas station to get drinks. So I decided to go to Sonic and order drinks, so I wouldn’t have to leave my car with the babies. I’m such a genius.
I order my drinks, and they come, all cool, and refreshing, and dripping blue coconut juice all over the place. I put the key in the ignition, turn, and…nothing. Not a dang thing! No lights, no noise, no nothing!! I try over and over again to crank the car with the same results.
I get my cell phone. Hit the power button. Nothing. It’s as dead as my car battery. Blek. No one knows where I am. I have an eight month old and a three year old and I’m not exactly in walking distance of home or the baseball field or anything.
Fortunately, one of the carhops at Sonic is a member of our church. She lets me borrow her cell phone…but since everyone I call is on my speed dial, I know no phone numbers! Except my mom. So I call my mom. Not home.
Er…? I start asking the girl from church which numbers she has on her phone. Aha! One is my brother’s wife! Teenagers are great. Their cell phones have virtually every number imaginable in them. I call. No answer. Argh! She doesn’t have any of my brother or sister-in-laws numbers but she starts calling some of her friends who might have them, hoping that they would, in turn, be able to get David on the phone. One big, enormous game of phone tag. Isn’t this chick great? Teenagers are in the know. Let me tell you. Resourceful things! Too bad we had no luck.
The baby begins wailing and the three year old needs a bathroom. I need a bubble bath and an aspirin. Maybe some booze.
But, my brother ends up calling us back. He shows up to
save my life jump my car off. Except it’s not the battery after all and he doesn’t know what it is! Ack! But at least he brings me home. And I am able to call my husband at the baseball field and tell him what’s going on.
Luckily, it’s an easy fix. My hubby promises. He says he’ll have the car running tomorrow and for not a huge amount of money. This is good!
But is that not crazy?
Talking about crazy, I have to tell you what happened to my brother at work today.
Cade, my brother is a lineman. He and his crew were working on a pole today (imagine that!). Two guys were in a bucket working on the pole while he and another guy were working on the ground near it. Their backs were to the road when a car hit the pole. Hard. It had been going incredibly fast. The pole cracked in three places.
After my brother checks on his guys in the buckets and sees they are (miraculously) okay, he checks out the driver. The guy is freaking out and crawling out of the passenger side door. My brother (first aid certified or whatever) is trying to calm the guy down. The guy is running around and my brother keeps telling him to take it easy and slow down.
The guy runs around the car, reaches in to get a shoe he lost while getting out the first time and pops the trunk. Cade says that he ran to the trunk and started stuffing tons of money in a garbage bag! He fills the garbage bag and takes off running toward a mechanic’s shop across the road. The crew of linemen start chasing him, yelling at him that they weren’t gonna let him leave.
The guy yells back, “Oh, I’m not leaving. I’m cool.”
He returns and fills two more garbage bags with money and runs to the shop with them. My brother said there was still tons of money in the trunk of the car. When the police showed up they found a very large amount of money still on the guy and another garbage bag full of money.
Come to find out, they think he might be a guy that’s been hitting up some ATM machines around here! Isn’t that the craziest? Like something from TV. So exciting! (Okay, I have no life…I’m a mom, ya know?)
Anyway, that’s enough rambling for tonight. It might be enough for several nights. I just thought I’d share!
UPDATE: The car is fixed. It cost $1.37 to fix. Thank goodness!
After all that, I think you truly deserve to see some serious cuteness! Here’s my little rock biter!
Hey, and if you like my adventure stories, all my other adventure stories came up in the related posts, listed below! I have an exciting life!
Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.
The temperature has been in the high nineties for days. The laundry smells and bugs manage to creep inside my house, despite all attempts at keeping them in their proper outdoor habitat. The power bill skyrockets. What can I say? It’s summer. We suffer. And we love it!
I love spring. The flowers blooming. The birds singing. The warm breezes after the chilly weather of winter has left. The rain showers.
I love fall. The crisp air. The cool weather following the sweltering summer heat. The crunch of leaves underfoot. The smell of firewood in the air.
But my mostest favoritest season of all is still summer. To this day, I can’t quite figure it out. It’s hot. It’s humid. It’s miserable….but I love it.
Being a teacher, and having vacation time during the summer definitely contributes to this. But it’s more than that.
It’s something to do with drippy popsicles running down my kids faces, fireworks on the Fourth of July, softball games, roasting marshmallows, sleeping in a tent, wallowing in the creek all day long, eating fresh tomatoes, blueberries, and squash, kids running through sprinklers, and flags waving around.
It’s grilling hamburgers, and chicken, and zucchini. It’s spending all day reading. It’s fireflies and crickets. It’s the smell of sunscreen and the warm feel of a beach towel when you are all wet, watermelon seed spitting contests, making homemade lemonade, drinking lots of ice water.
It’s cool sunglasses and flip flops. It’s homemade ice cream and strawberry shortcake and sno-cones, and playgrounds, sand between your toes and the smell of grass being cut. It’s the sound of the National Anthem and Take Me Out to the Ballgame.
Yep. Summer is beautiful!
I truly do!
On Saturday, my dad and I spent two hours picking blueberries. Can you guess how many we picked? Might you guess five gallons? Six? Eight?
Oh…but we were in the most beautiful overgrown blueberry patch ever! These neglected bushes were growing over our heads, filling the old, little traveled paths with branch after branch of blueberry goodness. Top it off with a cooling sprinkle that sent the mosquitoes hiding out with the ninety-eight degree weather, somewhere, far from this sacred grove. Oh yes. It was delightful.
On most of our blueberry outings, we work for an hour, a hard hour, for four to six gallons of blueberries. Usually, by that time, the mosquitoes have chased our sweat drenched selves in search of a Barq’s rootbeer and some air conditioning. But Saturday was charmed…
The berries were so plentiful that I reached out to pick some and came back with a handful of mist covered, deep purple, almost bursting with sweetness, blueberries. Handful after handful, while the rain gently cooled us. After the usual hour, my father asked if I was too tired to continue…but I must admit, the quiet, cool of the blueberry bushes had me enchanted. I had no desire to leave. No desire to end one of the most pleasant outings I’ve been on in a while. It was so relaxing.
So we picked, and picked. And luckily, being prepared is one of my daddy’s specialties. Bucket, after bucket magically appeared from the depths of his truck bed. We chatted. We picked quietly. We chatted some more. We listened to the plunking of blueberries hitting the bottom of the bucket. We listened to the sounds of cars driving by on the other side of the tree line…sounds that had no place in this fairytale like place.
Finally, because of plans for the evening, we dragged our blue stained fingers and mouths from the place. The damage? Sixteen gallons of juicy, plump, delicious, sweet, fragrant blueberries.
My mom asked what on earth we needed with so many berries. Well, I dunno. But I do know that if it was possible, I’d e-mail you a gallon to put into a pie, bake muffins with or just eat out of the bowl.
I wish you blueberries.
* a pair of comfy Crocs I wore through my entire pregnancy
* the hat from the University of Arizona that my husband wears all the time
* a dozen roses on my first Valentines with Joshua
* cherry cheeks on my children when they’ve been playing outside in the cold
* Spider man in various corners in Landon’s bedroom
* spicy crawfish
* Lilies that bloom in my yard in April
* Rebekah’s face when she’s not happy
* a checkered dishtowel that doesn’t match my kitchen at all but I keep it because I like it
* approximately 45% of my husband’s wardrobe
* my Tae Bo workout video
* Josh’s rare steaks
* strawberry shortcake
* Camillas that bloom in my yard in February
* Rascal Flatts’ Feels Like Today and Brad Paisley’s Time Well Wasted
* cherry pie
*1 Peter 1:18-19
Knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.