It has come to my attention that Bags and I have an understanding.
He gets pets.
And I get mouse.
It’s mutual love, obviously.
gifts from the heart
2
goodwill 1
Goodwill:: a store where people donate their unwanted things which are then priced and put out into the store for me (and other people) to buy.
Goodwill:: an actual treasure box in which a beautiful understanding and appreciative people will almost always find something wonderful meant just for them to adopt and bring home.
Yesterday, after yet another satisfying trip up and down the aisles of Goodwill, I stepped out of the store with my purchases. My arms were full and I was foolishly trying to carry a large and heavy print by its frame, with one hand. As I was walking lightly (and triumphantly) to the car, the weight of the print pulled the frame apart and broke it at the corner seam. In an instant, the glass and print fell forward to the pavement and loudly smashed into a million pieces. I let out a shriek as the print immediately lifted up and blew away in the wind (as naturally, it was a very windy day.). I looked down at the frame, still in my hand, one corner separated and the rest of the corners bent and twisted at varying degrees (none of them 90). A little nail was caught in the threads of my shirt. I watched the print fly away as I walked to the car and untangled myself, put the frame into the trunk, and slammed it shut with annoyance.
I chased the print across the parking lot, down the road, and into a nearby field before I could catch it. It ripped several times as I carried it to the car, flapping. The wind was determined to carry it away again. Good grief, I thought. I just paid 10.99 for this beautiful thing. With the print safely in the back, I drove to the “scene of the accident” to retrieve the cardboard backing. As the glass was unsalvageable, I left it and drove home.
I told Sarah the story when she got home from the school. She started laughing and then covered her eyes with her fingers, “I’m glad it happened mom,” she said with sad honesty. “Where would you put it??” She uncovered her eyes and gestured around the room. Truly, it did seem that there was no wall space left anywhere in the house. But I just knew I could find room.
Later, when Rich was home, I told him the sad story, too, and we went out to the car so I could show him what I had left to work with; a broken frame full of nails, the print, and an old stiff piece of cardboard. Everything in pieces, yet to my eyes, beautifully aged and redeemable. Without hesitation, he carried the broken frame to the trash. I protested, “Don’t throw it away, I’m going to fix it!” “What?” he said laughing, “No you aren’t, it’s broken! It’s old! You can get a new frame, I’m helping you.” In the trash it went and then we silently stood and looked at each other.
He: “what’s she going to do.”
She: “I guess I’ll get a new frame, I do love that one though it has character and it’s old and I don’t care that it isn’t perfect, it’s a nice frame made of hardwood and matches the print perfectly.”
Together we entered the house.
…………
Welp. This morning I found myself home alone with nowhere to go. I sat on the couch with my coffee and noticed that the cat was curled up on the table—on the print— like it was his bed. As I looked at him sleeping, I found myself rising up off the couch and ……. then I was standing in front of the trash can outside in my bare feet. I blinked my eyes. I watched as my own arms slowly stretched toward the frame, and then my own hands delicately lifted it from the garbage.
I stepped lightly (triumphantly) across the driveway.
I went inside the house.
I fixed the frame the best I could.
I pulled out all the little nails in back. (quite satisfying, I felt like a dentist).
I put the print and cardboard back inside the frame.
I found a place to hang it.
As I worked I thought, what is it about me that didn’t just leave the print blowing around in Plainville? Why didn’t I throw the frame away myself right there at the goodwill? Why did I go back and pick up the backing? Why didn’t I throw it all away? It had fallen apart and broken and ripped, the very definition of garbage. Why did I chase after it? Why did I drive it home? Why did I take the frame back out of the trash can? Why am I planning on finding a piece of glass for it?
Quite simple; I wanted it. I chose it. I paid for it. It was mine.
And when I want something I don’t throw it away unless I truly must. I’ll chase it, and gather up its pieces, and figure out how to put it back together again. It’s mine.
what can I say?
“All these earthly goods were medicine for what ailed me, evidence that the same God who had breathed the world into being was still breathing. There was so much life springing up all around me that the runoff alone was enough to revive me. When it did, I could not imagine why I had stayed away so long. Why did I seal myself off from all this freshness? On what grounds did I fast from the daily bread of birdsong and starlight?” -Barbara Brown Taylor
Am I sad? I’m always a little bit sad. Who isn’t in this messy beautiful world? But these are a few of the things I am finding joy in lately:
Therapy. Two weeks ago I shared with my therapist-healer a traumatic memory that even in sharing it two years or more after it happened brought my emotions to a ten. Last week we used tappers to go through the memory again, already it was, like magic, shifting. Already it was below a five on the emotional scale. Today it is hard to put a number on it. Anything below a five is so much of a relief it’s beyond even using a number. It’s using a hallelujah.
Books. This year 2022 I am reading more than ever. I have a red-covered notebook that Elisha gave to me for Christmas that I am carefully recording each title as I finish it. Some of the books are lackluster, but when I come across one that shines it makes my heart sing. Reading has always been good for the soul for me. I have quite a stack waiting for me and I look forward to them like I look forward to cookies to cool so I can eat one.
Family. Rich is my comfort, companion, love, and joy. He’s back to work in office now, and we both believe that even though Covid was heavy, it made our relationship better than ever. The children are doing well and keeping me challenged. I was thinking this morning about the simple words a friend shared with me the other day; “Don’t give up”. So often lately I have found myself impatient with myself as I mother my two youngest, forgetting that they deserve the attention and freshness that the older ones had from me. Instead of curling up with a book this afternoon I plan on investing in them, I know their hearts and I know the love we share can be rekindled and refreshed at any moment. We can go for walks, play a game, I can listen better to their stories that I often feel I have already heard a thousand times….but I haven’t. Not from them. Middle school life is new and exciting for them. Being 11 and 13 is amazing and wonderful for them. And for them, I won’t give up. Being intentional is half the battle. Poor things don’t know what’s coming. Lol
Nature. As always, a walk through the woods, or even something as simple as an open window letting in fresh air and birdsong lifts my spirits.
Cats. Art. Friendship. Food. Home. Music. Shopping at goodwill deserves its own separate post. Travel. Writing. The list grows even longer. Isn’t life grand?
But above all these things is love. 1 Corinthians 13
“moment by moment new mercies I see.”
Happy day my friends. Let me remind you and me both….we are greatly loved.
Seth and Sarah
the fifth
The fifth cat that is.
I can’t believe it’s already almost a week since Grace and I tried to lure a stray cat to us with a bowl of dry cat food. To our surprise and wonder, it actually came. It was wearing a flea collar and was nothing but skin and bones. It meowed but it’s voice wasn’t a thing of beauty. It said, “Hello, I am a starving cat. I’ve been watching you for a month. I already met your other cats. The black one chased me away but I had a feeling you would welcome me inside.”
And I said, “Ohhhhhh my goodness, come on inside you poor poor little baby kitty, you’re so handsome and sweet you’re so thin, let’s feed youuuuuuuu.”
Seth wanted him so I said he could be Seth’s cat. Then Caleb came to me and said “I can’t believe you gave that cat to Seth.” He thought it should be his cat. Then Sierra sent me a text. “Can that be Ethan’s cat? We want it.” (They don’t know this but all the cats are secretly….mine). I tried to be a peacemaker the best I could but we started arguing about what to name him. Clyde? Clive? Lorenzo?
I’ve been calling him Mr Bones.
Yesterday I overheard Seth call him Little Sticks. I’m not sure which name will stay.
Seth and Sarah don’t like to pet him because all they can feel are his sharp bones jutting out. Shoulder blades, hips, and heels especially.
Within days I had him at the vet getting his rabies and distemper shots. On Tuesday he will be getting neutered.
He drinks from the toilet and eats from the kitchen sink and I wonder if his previous owner ever gave him a proper meal for cats, you know like actual cat food in a dish?. He’s obviously not partial to bowls and saucers. He only weighs seven pounds. He’s had butter, a leftover sausage, part of Davids egg sandwich including the bread, and some of my matcha latte. Who knows how long he was outside starving in the cold winter.
Regardless, he’s mine now. He’s been thoroughly adopted.
This morning I was making a cup of coffee when I noticed that my husband had written something on one of the fridge magnets:
good to be home
Peace knows your address.
Make sure you are home.
Be present within yourself. Move in. Open the windows. Let in the light. Freshen up the place.
Make yourself a place you’d like to stay.
Be a homebody.
~Jaiya John, Fragrance After Rain
PEACE KNOWS YOUR ADDRESS: “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
MAKE SURE YOU ARE HOME: Our bodies tell us, with our nerves and emotions, when we are not “home”. (safe). There are many ways to work on safety. What works for me will not work for you. This is why it sometimes takes years to come to a place of healing; and that’s okay.
BE PRESENT WITHIN YOURSELF: You are beautiful. You are worthy. You are the only one who can take care of you. God, through Jesus Christ, wants us to live abundantly. He cares enough to know our hearts (insides) the number of hairs on our heads (outsides); shouldn’t we also care about ourselves so that we can be healthy & enjoy *messy-beautiful* life?
MOVE IN: close your eyes, get inside yourself with welcome and warmth, do you find yourself smiling yet?
OPEN THE WINDOWS: now open your eyes, open your heart, soul, and mind. Let the beauty of living come inside you.
LET IN THE LIGHT: “Jesus once again addressed them: ‘I am the world’s Light. No one who follows me stumbles around in the darkness. I provide plenty of light to live in.” This is why our hearts soar when sunbeams flow into the room and across the floor, warming and brightening.
FRESHEN UP THE PLACE: I try to do this daily…..because so easily I become stagnant. One day will be a musical day, another day will be art, another day will be rest, another day will be hard work another day will be ………… you get the idea.
MAKE YOURSELF A PLACE YOU’D LIKE TO STAY: Again, figuring yourself out, knowing who you are, your identity as basic as “I am a woman” opens up a world of possibility. What does that mean to you? When we know our own unique and sacred self, we can nourish that and remain the one and only me/you there ever is or will be.
BE A HOMEBODY. Everything and everyone else is just icing on the cake.
a high vale
Often, a phrase or sentence will jump out at me as I’m reading or just going about my day. I started a new art/scrapbook journal yesterday with the intention of using it to record some of those wise words I collect because words are treasures to me, and a well turned phrase is worth keeping.
I read this quote a couple days ago and the words “high value woman” hit my soul. I have often called myself a queen, but this hits different. I’m a high value woman! I decided this would be my first page in the new book to remind myself that whenever possible, to chose the most nourishing and best of life’s offerings. (“He preparest a table before me….”) I sat down and brushed a thin layer of pastel pink all over the page. Then, I chose a shade of green to begin the lettering. I was taking myself seriously. This book was going to change my life and the lives of my descendants.
I should have known better. Life has a way of reminding me not to take anything too seriously. I’ll always make interesting mistakes. And some of them are downright instantaneously funny.
I finished the page today. I also did a TON of cleaning. Like, a bucket of soapy water washing the walls sort of cleaning. The sun is shining and it’s a cold and windy day….. a lovely day for lighting candles and tidying my home. Soon the children will arrive from school. It’s been a wonderful day so far, I wonder what’s ahead for the second half?
We are loved. (1 John 4:11)
the pillow mom made me
Good morning friends,
Is anyone here? Have I been away long enough?
While I was away, I turned 46!
My parents sent me a package through the mail for my birthday and inside was a marvelous pillow. Using a quilt square that I hand-stitched together as a child and fabric and a hand crocheted doily out of her collection of keepsakes from her grandmother, mom thoughtfully sewed a pillow for me, and sent it with a note of blessing for the hands who worked together to make it: her own hands, her grandmother’s hands, and her daughter’s hands.
I look at it every day. Really look, with my eyes and with my heart.
It graces our master bed. Which I am sitting upon as I type, with cats, a mug of coffee, a book, a notebook, and the remote.
Happy Tuesday!
We are loved.
This moment; a picture with no words
2/2/22
2day baby boy turns 13.
I love this child with all my heart. He’s my sunshine every single day, my laughter because he has a free and special sense of humor, my surprise because I never know what he will do or say next, my riddle when I don’t understand what he’s thinking, my friend because we know each other so well, my comfort because he’s always been good for a snuggle, and my son, born of my body, a miracle!
I wish I could give you everything you ever wanted. However, it wouldn’t be good for either of us. So, I’m sorry that you’re disappointed I didn’t get you the Nike Air Force 1 high top sneakers. I know you really don’t mind, also this is why I don’t really like Christmas and birthday lists anymore….they make you kids think whatever you write down will come to pass. But I digress. You looked so handsome when you left for school this morning in your LLBean moccasins and white champion hoodie though!!
And yes I know Sarah ended up with a pair of moccasins too, but honest, hers were on clearance and it would have been silly not to get her them.
I’ve been busy cleaning my room today, Seth, and I found a couple of journals that I hadn’t read in a while and as I turned the pages I saw something you wrote to me. I just know I was meant to find it today on your birthday. What a special surprise this was…. and it filled my heart with joy to read your words:
Mommy and Daddy both adore our Sethie. You’ve been such a treasure. We saw you for the first time 13 years ago and we just knew good times were ahead for us.
Maybe later I’ll tell you all about the day you were born. It’s a story I’ll be happy to share with you as many times as you want. Our favorite part is when Daddy faints, isn’t it? Regardless, it was one of the best days of our lives…when we welcomed you into the world.
I’ve been working on your ice cream cake. It was fun to crush Oreos for the crust and soften ice cream to layer on top. Soon I’ll add drizzles of chocolate fudge sauce, cool whip, and lastly, a generous sprinkling of Oreo crumbs. You’re determined to go to the wrestling meet tonight so we won’t be blowing out candles until who-knows-when.
All good things for a day for Seth. You are the best Seth ever. And very very loved.
Always and always.
Good to be Home 