busyness

I'm kinda tired... but a really, really good tired. The same kind of tired I feel after I've eaten a whole bunch of Godiva all at once and can't move afterwards. Satisfied with chocolate stuck in my teeth.
Because I've been busy... really, really busy, and I like being busy.
I'm busy all day, and then I fall into bed exhausted. Satisfied with my day.
Sidenote: Satisfied is such a satisfying word. I like it.
But I haven't had time to write much... which I don't like because then all the stuff I want to write piles up in my head until I feel like busting and I think, Oh, I'll write that tonight, but then when tonight rolls around I'm falling into bed, exhausted.

So here's what I've been busy with:

I sliced my big toe open on a rosebush, and it bled all over the place. That thorn was like a razorblade. The king of thorns. The thorn that beats all other thorn's butts.
I'm not exactly pain tolerant so I curled into the fetal position and cried and sucked my big toe. And I text Karen all about the blood and gore. And then I put a princess bandaid on it to make me feel better.
Here's the thing, I can only use princess bandaids. I tried buying Dora, Hello Kitty, Spiderman, or even Lightning McQueen, but I couldn't do it. I reached for the princess bandaids every time. I don't use the Snow White or Cinderella ones though. I hate Snow White. She always has that insipid look on her face, and she took an apple from a bag lady with dirty fingernails and ate it without even washing it. Serves her right to fall asleep forever. I might would've taken the apple, just to be polite, but then I would've put it straight into the garbage disposal were its unsanitary self belonged. Hello, Snow White. Germs are very real. And Cinderella is a spineless wimp. She should've punched her stepmother in the face and set the house on fire and taken all the family money and fled to France. But instead, she walks around singing to the birds like an idiot.
I accidentally pulled out a Snow White bandaid the other night and didn't want to waste it, so I wore it, but then all through church that night, I got mad at Snow White every time I looked down at my big toe.


I got told by one person that she couldn't go poop. And another that she had the runs. And another told me things that I can't repeat, such was the grossness.
I think I must have one of those faces or something. A face that you feel comfortable saying the most personal things to because people say those things to me all the time, and then my active imagination is left with a mental image, and then my sensitive stomach is goes into orbit, and then I gag, and then I say, Please don't say anymore, but then they say, Hang on just one more thing, and the one more thing is usually grosser than the first thing. And then I have nightmares. Then I pray. This is why my relationship with God is constantly improving.


I went shopping with Karen and my friend, Jaime. Guess what I discovered? Old Navy had a really cute sun dress on sale for seven bucks so I bought it. And Down East had a really cute shirt on sale that goes perfectly with my favorite skirt that I bought when I was eighteen and have never had anything to wear with. So I bought that too. I hate shopping, but I love being with friends, and I love being able to finally wear my favorite skirt that I've been looking wistfully at for the last nine years, hanging in my closet.


I had to say goodbye to a very dear friend, and I didn't like it at all.
I wanted to make her stay with me, but she's really been looking forward to moving back to Orange County to be with all of her family so I felt selfish to ask her not to go.
But I still thought it.

This is my friend...
and me...
and my shiny forehead...
and my really cute shirt that I just bought on sale at Down East...

Her name is Gloria. I think Gloria is so appropriate for her because she's glorious. Glorious Gloria.
When I first met her, I thought, She's so beautiful!
My next thought was that her eyes smiled before the rest of her face and I liked that. It made me feel at home with her.
She blows me kisses, and knows when I'm upset, and listens to my problems, and loves me in spite of myself.
She's a truly lovely, lovely person, and I'll miss not seeing her around. I'll miss talking with her. I'll miss her kindness. I'll miss her hug when I walk in her front door. I'll miss the way she does everything so perfectly... like how she irons her sheets and labels everything in her fridge. I'll miss her smiling eyes.
I'll miss her.
Very much.


I cooked lunch for Gloria's last day. Kinda. I made ham and cheese sandwiches. By the time I got done cutting up tomato and pickles, it was starting to feel like cooking.
But for dessert!
I made this key lime cake...

Picture stolen from The Lettered Cottage.

I love The Lettered Cottage.

Everything they do is wonderful and perfect.

My cake didn't look like theirs. I'll never win any prizes for frosting cakes...

Gloria gave me that cake stand. It has strawberries on it.

Excuse me while I go cry.

But it tasted scrump-diddly-uptious.

Seriously. I don't care for cake, but this cake... heaven help me.

If you want the recipe click here.

I used pineapple orange juice... because it's what I had.

And I used regular limes... because I couldn't find key limes.

And I used butter instead of margarine... because I think margarine is gross.

And I used four cups of confectioners sugar instead of "the rest of the box"... because mine didn't come in a box, it came in a bag.

I was happy to eat this cake. And happy to cut it up in big chunks to share with some of my friends.

There are three things that I love, yea four which I cannot live without... that I was created for... that satisfy my deep, inner soul... that God Himself must've picked out for me to love and crave and be crazy about.

1. Gardening.

I've decided my new life's ambition is to have a greenhouse someday. A little one would be fine. I've been doing the gardening for this couple up at The Highlands, and they have a little greenhouse attached to the side of their house. I spend alot of time in there. I love it. I want it to be mine. I hate vegetables, but I could grow them for other people. I'd be fine with that so long as I could spend time in the greenhouse everyday. There's something about that greenhouse that makes me feel like God is close by. The smell of dirt and plants living together... the sight of all those delicate plants growing... the little walkways... the very black soil... the fuzzy moss on the stones... being in the warmth while the cold rain pours outside.

All of that speaks to me. Satisfies.

Yesterday, I harvested some of their stuff.

Spinach

I've been eating spinach salad since Thomas told me it contains magnesium, and I have a magnesium deficiency that causes tics all over the place.

But I hate spinach, and I feel like a martyr every time I eat it.

Thanks alot, Thomas.

Oregano and tarragon

Thyme

Later on, we'll pick apples, cherries, strawberries, peppers, plums, sea berries, tomatoes, garlic...

And alot more. It's like a hobby farm up there. They have everything you could imagine, and they give me the overflow. But since oregano and tarragon aren't microwavable and involve cooking, I gave it to Karen.

2. Writing.

Duh.

3. Teaching elementary age children.

I've started teaching Leah her history. Monday was our first day. We're working through the summer so the classes will be accelerated, but it's so fun. I get to go through the books, and make slide shows to go along with the lesson, and tell her all about Attila the Hun, and take walks to the river while we discuss whatever she's learning, and smack her over the head if she acts out, and have her spend the night with me, and make her unload the dishwasher.

Sidenote: If you'd like me to homeschool your kids, I only charge an arm and a leg. Unless you're my sister, then I'm free.

Next year, I'll have all four of the older girls. We'll be learning astronomy. I'm so excited. Astronomy fascinates me and I've tried teaching it to myself but it's pretty much over my head. But I figure I should be able to get 4th grade astronomy since I'm not smarter than a 5th grader.

4. Eating chocolate.

Duh.

I had to tell Lily to stop eating the fuzz out of her shoes and to eat her yogurt instead.

She looked at me like, What? I always do this.

And I thought about how much I love that. Such a little silly thing, but it personifies what a baby is all about. They get into the toilet and the trash and eat the fuzz outta their shoes. They wake up just as you lay down to sleep, they climb up on the table and get into the dinner, they open the front door and head straight for the street when you're not looking. They give slobbery kisses, and tight hugs, and look at you like you're the only one in the world for them.

They have chubby legs that I like to squeeze.

And the other day, when Lily saw a jet plane with the white pollution streaming out from behind it far away up in the sky, she thought it was a shooting star and couldn't be convinced otherwise.

A shooting star! A shooting star! she shrieked, excited out of her mind.

Beautiful Lily



I've been getting English movies from the library. Sometimes they're dumb, but I found this one series that I really like, Midsummer Murders. They're murder stories, but without being scary... unlike the Zodiac Killer which I made the mistake of getting and watching in the dark by myself. And then I was pretty much crying in terror and trying to figure out how I could get from my bed to the light switch without touching the floor because they never actually caught the Zodiac Killer and what if he was under my bed waiting to grab my ankles? You'd be amazed by how far I can jump when I'm scared. I leapt to the light switch in one big jump, flicked on the light, and was suddenly braver. And then I threatened the Zodiac Killer with my high heel which was the only weapon I could find handy. And I lived to tell the story.

We had a church picnic for Memorial Day on Sunday. When I first walked into church on Sunday, I noticed the new flowers up at the pulpit. My first thought was, kinda small arrangement... pretty but inadequate. Then Tim asked the lady who had brought them to tell everyone what the flowers represented and I wanted to crawl under the pew in shame for even thinking the words small and inadequate. The two blue carnations were for her two sons that she'd lost in service to their country, the two yellow roses were for two grandfathers that had served, and the two red roses were for her's and her husband's fathers that had also served. She said it all very matter-of-factly. But when I looked at those two blue carnations, I thought about how she must feel when she looked at those flowers, and it put a lump in my throat to think about those two boys that she'd hugged and kissed on, but had lost. And I felt grateful to all those that have died for us, for their country. Grateful to those that are still serving.

Then we had our picnic...

(These picture are stolen from three different cameras. Thank you Karen, Rachel, and Aaron. I'm sorry for stealing... not really.)

Dan's head is shiny. Just pointing that out.

Is this not one of the cutest babies you've ever seen? I think he's adorable.

He's bigger than his mama.

Sandcastles in the volley ball court...

My favorite picture of the day.

 I love how her hair is blowing in the wind:)

Never run from a marine...

They got like three feet of air in this shot...

My other favorite picture of the day.

Her hair is like cotton candy.

The pastor, Tim, and the sound guy, Thomas.

So anyway, Pastor... I think your earpiece looks really cool when you're preaching.

Adam, the griller. Our lives depended upon Adam this day.

He was all that was standing between us and starvation.

My favorite part of the park.

You could be having a bad day, but a few minutes on the swings can make it all better.

Then we went shopping, went home, ate pizza, and watched Nascar.

Tim and Jake might like Nascar, but I'm bored by the 4th lap. And by the forty thousandth lap, I'm ready to shoot the tv. But I cheered for the M&M car because I like M&M's, and Karen rooted for the UPS car because they have cute delivery guys (or at least they say they do, but that's a lie), and Jaime went outside because her baby needed her out there.And then I switched to the CAT car because I like bulldozers. And then I fell asleep.

I have no idea who won. Nor do I care. Shoot me in the head the next time we're watching Nascar.

We had a church meeting with Bro. James Knox last week. It was alot much for me to wrap my mind around. He spoke on the humanity of Christ, and all that he said was so simple... but really hard to grasp.  But at the same time, it. was. so. good. How Christ came down to earth, what He had to go through as a man, how He can better understand and intercede for us, how we always think of God as so big but seldom do we think of God as a small man learning to walk and hold a fork. It gave me a whole new picture of Christ in my head.
If you'd like to listen to the messages, click here.
They're really good.


Sometimes, I get freaked out. I wasn't born calm. I was born freaking out over whatever freaks me out.
Sometimes, something will happen, and I'll fling myself over whatever piece of furniture is closest and ask God why this is happening and will He please shoot me in the head or maybe strike me with lightning? And God will try to tell me what's going on, but I'm too freaked out to listen. Too freaked out to trust Him.
Sometimes it's so easy to trust God. I can think of alot of things I trust God with. But then I can think of a couple things that I don't trust Him at all with. Things that I try taking care of myself. Things that I fret over for whatever reason. And in the last couple weeks, God has picked me up off of whatever piece of furniture I'm dramatically draped over, taken my shoulders in His hands, looked me in my eyeballs, and said, Shut up. Listen. I've got it. Why can't you see that? I'm standing right here in front of you. Listen to the words coming out of My mouth. You're My child, My darling, why would you think this one thing would slip out of My grasp? And then I thought, Why DO I do that? Why do I act like God might not cover all the bases? Why do I act as if He can't handle every single thing? And I don't know why, but I do know this: God has been taking the time to perform miracles in my life, taking the time to show me just how much He holds in His hands, taking the time to make me safe, taking the time to give me peace of mind. Just taking time out for me. And it makes the sun shine when it's raining outside.


I think that's all, folks.
Busy and satisfied.
Amen and the end.