Grace on Marshmallow Ranch

Walking in the Rain

Wed, 07 May 2025 01:30:00 -0600

I’ve been working on a project this week, in between baking and cleaning the kitchen…ad infinitum. I finally had to get out of the house and wander around the pollinator gardens to see what’s new out there. I grabbed my rain boots and a huge golf umbrella from the truck and took off, tromping through the wet fields.

I’m really pleased with most of the gardens. There are a couple that look kind of poorly…sparse grasses with no discernible wildflowers. My dear friend Aimee, who knows all things about the ground and what grows under, in, and on top. She says to leave it be. It’s still forage for critters and can harbor snakes and turtles, and field mice. There’s no such thing as a bad green space…unless all it has is invasive and noxious weeds.

The Lyreleaf Sage is nearing the end of its flowering. The little trumpet-shaped flowers at the top of the stems glow brightly in the mass of dark field grasses. The Bulbous Buttercup has opened its John Deere yellow flowers and is quite showy in the areas where they grow. The Wood Sorrel blossoms are doing their best to compete with the buttercups, but they are smaller and stay deeper in the grass.

Speaking of grass, we have mostly Kentucky Bluegrass, Bromes, Foxtail, Flax, and others. There are many other perennials like Dock, Red Sorrel, Sheep Sorrel, Ribwort Plantain, White Clover, and many others. Every time I’m out there, I find something new to document. It is quite a walk to go around all seventeen pollinator gardens. Just another healthy way to get my steps in.

Mr. FixIt went to town yesterday to buy the straw, manure, and topsoil for the raised bed. I know it’s an investment at the beginning, but hopefully it will pay off with table veggies in the summers to come. I’d like to build a cold frame at the end of the house to have lettuce, carrots, and onions through the winter. Another small step toward a less consumer-based lifestyle as we continue to live our best years walking side-by-side through our seventies.

I used the last of the cabbage and made Gail’s deconstructed cabbage rolls last night for supper. Mr. FixIt picked up some fresh ears of corn, and I have some asparagus that needs to be used up. It’s always a delight to anticipate a good, country meal for a chilly, rainy evening.

🩵

“God called the dry ground “land” and the waters “seas.” And God saw that it was good. Then God said, “Let the land sprout with vegetation—every sort of seed-bearing plant, and trees that grow seed-bearing fruit. These seeds will then produce the kinds of plants and trees from which they came.” And that is what happened. The land produced vegetation—all sorts of seed-bearing plants, and trees with seed-bearing fruit. Their seeds produced plants and trees of the same kind. And God saw that it was good.” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭1‬:‭10‬-‭12‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today, I am grateful for the ground on which we live…the myriad flora and fauna that delight us daily. I’m grateful for two strong legs that carry me around, and for the image lookup function on Google!

Playing Tourist

Thu, 17 Apr 2025 01:30:00 -0600

We didn’t have it in us to go fishing again yesterday. It was cooler and the wind was still pretty forceful so we decided to play tourist and see what we could get into. We decided to go up to Nag’s Head and have breakfast at Stack ‘em High Pancakes, but it turns out they’re closed on Wednesday. So we ate next door at Bob’s. It was good, but the best part was Helen, our waitperson. What an absolute sweetheart she was. Even though it was the first time we’d ever met, we got big hugs and “I love you…be careful going home!” Just a little beach diner with fun folks.

When we came out of the restaurant, we could see a lot of smoke down south of us. It turned out to be a controlled burn in Jockey’s Ridge State Park between Hwy. 12 and the sound. We thought it was a little crazy to have that kind of burn in such windy weather, but it was completely out by the time we crossed back over the bridge to Nag’s Head later in the afternoon.

After breakfast, we had reservations for the Aquarium. It was wonderful! We haven’t been there in a few years. One of my favorite parts was walking around the grounds and looking at the pretty flowers. Folks are so nice here in North Carolina! They go out of their way to make you feel welcome.

When we left there, we headed south on Norfolk Island to Wanchese to see the big boats at the marina. Some of them are so big and beautiful. Like a small cottage floating on the water with every amenity you could need. There is a restaurant at the marina that serves fresh seafood. I went there last fall when I was waiting for the truck to be fixed and I didn’t realize Mr. FixIt had been there many times BG (before Ginny!) We each had a flounder sandwich with fries and were officially filled for the day.

We decided we needed to walk off some of the food we ate yesterday so we went back up the island to Manteo and walked around their quaint downtown area shops. We visited an antique shop, a darling General Store where I purchased a gift to take to Little, and an awesome Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar bar. The oils were from Greece and the Balsamic Vinegars were from Italy. OMGosh! There were so many wonderful flavors. The garlic was great, of course. Who doesn’t love garlic! I especially loved plain EVO. And there was a Pear Cinnamon White Balsamic that was to die for! There was also a Raspberry Balsamic that tasted exactly like my grandma’s raspberry jelly…it had such a bright flavor. I would have loved to buy four or five bottles to take home, but at $18.95 for an 8 ounce bottle, it was too rich for my blood!

By this time, all that slow walking was hurting Mr. FixIt’s back and hips so we decided to head back to the camper and stretch out for a bit. I have a pair of socks I’ve started that I wanted to work on. The sun has been shining every day we’ve been here…and it’s supposed to continue all the way through the weekend. Too bad the fishing hasn’t been very good, and the temp has been a bit chilly. But, really…there is no such thing as a crappy day at the beach!

We only have two more sleeps and we head back up the road. We think we’ll hit the North half of the island today. I want to see Jeanne at Knitting Addiction and we HAVE to buy a donut at Tullio’s Bakery in Duck. I know, everyone raves about Duck Donuts, but really the only thing that makes them stand out is they’re fried fresh when you order them. Because if that, they only serve cake donuts. To me, if it wasn’t for the flavored icing/toppings, they all taste the same. But Tullio’s??? Wowza! Yeasty, yummy, lots of varieties, always fresh…so, so, so good!

We want to fish again tomorrow before we leave Saturday morning. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch something before we have to go!

🩵🐟🩵

“O Lord, what a variety of things you have made! In wisdom you have made them all. The earth is full of your creatures. Here is the ocean, vast and wide, teeming with life of every kind, both large and small. See the ships sailing along, and Leviathan, which you made to play in the sea.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭104‬:‭24‬-‭26‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today I am grateful for firefighters with the knowledge to burn just what is needed and save the rest. I am grateful for the opportunity to be at the beach with my sweetheart and watch the sunset every day.

So Much Sea to See…

Wed, 16 Apr 2025 01:30:00 -0600

We got up much earlier yesterday. I made breakfast sandwiches and we headed over to the old Bonner Bridge to do some fishing. Remember…I said FISHING, not CATCHING! I had one really good bite but I could not set the hook so were were out of luck again. But that’s ok. Sitting out there in the sunshine, watching the inlet where the sound meets the ocean, and being with Mr. FixIt was all I needed. By noon, the wind picked up and I had my heavy Notre Dame sweatshirt on under my ski shell but it was getting kinda miserable. We packed up and decided to explore the southern end of the island.

We went all the way down to Hatteras Village. We stopped at a Day Use Area on the sound side and cooked our hotdogs in the solar oven. We watched the kite surfers. We stopped at Lee Robinson’s General Store for an ice cream. Then we went all the way up to Nag’s Head to fill up the truck. We wandered around Harris Teeter again. We love to just look at the stuff. I found some Decaf Tetley Tea in the clearance bin. I used to drink Tetley Tea when I lived in England.

It was 5:30 by the time we got back to the camper. I fixed hamburger steaks, asparagus, and Jasmine rice for supper. Then it was time to go over to the marina to watch the sunset. It didn’t disappoint, but the temperature dropped and the wind picked up, so we soon headed back for the night.

Today is Wednesday and our week here is half over. Today and tomorrow is supposed to be chilly with some rain so we likely will not go fishing. There are some other things we want to do while we are down here so we may explore some more. Or, we may just hang out at the campground and cook, eat, knit, and nap! That wouldn’t hurt my feelings one bit!

🩵

“The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters.” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭1‬:‭2‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today I am grateful that…even in the midst of great uncertainty in the world…I can commune with God on the beaches of His ocean. I can find peace and joy in the smallest of moments and know that He is with me…always. He will never leave me nor forsake me. This gives me great strength and the courage to face the turbulent times ahead.

A Great Start to the Day

Sun, 13 Apr 2025 01:30:00 -0600

Thank you, Jesus for getting us here safely!

I couldn’t believe it…we both slept twelve hours Friday night! We were exhausted. The sound of the rain on the roof was the lullaby we needed. We got on the road about 10:00 yesterday morning and drove till we found a Cracker Barrel near the interstate (I-40, exit 141). We received a Gift Card from there for Christmas so we decided to do that rather than go through the drive through at some fast food joint. It was a great idea! The staff were excellent, the restaurant was clean, the food was wonderful, and even though the place was packed, we were in and out in a timely fashion. We’ll definitely come back here and we may camp in their parking lot for the night instead of stopping at a campground. We had a leisurely breakfast and were ready to face the day.

There were places coming through the Raleigh Durham area where the interstate was six lanes wide. Apparently the speed limit is just a mere suggestion to these folks because they sped around me like I was standing still. Many delivered the “one finger salute” on their way by. The most excitement we saw on the way here was coming out of the Walmart and being confronted by FIVE police cars and a lot of yelling. I had no idea what was going on, but we beat a hasty retreat to the truck.

We arrived at the campground at a little after 6:00. The wind was blowing around 15mph so the wind chill was around 45°. Pretty chilly when you’re trying to get a camper unhooked and set up. There were some food items we could have brought in, but by the time we got everything done, we decided a ham sandwich and chips was good enough along with a hot beverage.

My sister/friend in Florida told me about the pink moon last night but we couldn’t see it for the clouds. Besides, by 8:45 we were in bed for the night. It’s nice we don’t have to go anywhere or do anything today. We can watch church online. And a lazy day knitting will be nice. I brought some lovely purple yarn that Gail gave me last winter to start a pair of socks.

No rain on the roof last night…just gusty wind.

🚙💨

“The wind blows wherever it wants. Just as you can hear the wind but can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit.”” ‭‭John‬ ‭3‬:‭8‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Gratitude Journal Today, I am grateful for safe travels and my wonderful traveling partner. He’s a good navigator and we enjoy a feisty repartee along the way.

Time to Get Movin’

Wed, 02 Apr 2025 01:30:00 -0600

You never know what will greet you at the back door!

We leave for the beach the end of next week. I usually procrastinate preparations till I’m down to the wire then I’m exhausted by the time the trip starts. I don’t want to do that this time. The new electric jack for the camper arrived yesterday and Mr. FixIt wanted to get it put on right away. I hemmed and hawed and looked at the weather report. It’s going to rain every day till next Tuesday. I really don’t want to push it because…what if something’s wrong and I need parts or whatever? Can’t risk it, so we started the project.

Mr. FixIt has had trouble with fine motor skills in his hands ever since he had his two strokes five years ago. I often have to be his hands because he either can’t manipulate things like screws or bolts between his fingers or he doesn’t have the strength to grasp something tight enough with his hands. He was having trouble with one of the bolts that held the old jack in place, so I got the “cheater bar” out of the garage. That’s a pipe a little bigger around than the handle of the wrench you’re using. It’s about three feet long and it gives you leverage to loosen the tightest bolts. One twist and I had it off there.

I wanted to set the jack in place a quarter turn from the original position so I could have room to open the tailgate of the truck all the way when the camper is hooked up. However, the only way that would work was if we drilled a new hole. And if we did that, it wouldn’t be threaded for the bolt to attach. So I gave up on that idea. It wan’t long till we got that thing on and got everything put away.

By the time we were finished it was time for supper. I don’t know about you, but when I don’t have a lot of time to cook a meal, I love a good Hot Ham & Cheese with chips and call it good. You can’t really go wrong with a sandwich supper! Mr. FixIt has a procedure today, then I’m going to get started on meal planning and packing the kitchen boxes for the trip. Since we are all about saving money these days, I will pack most of the food we need and take it with us. As you can imagine, the food in the grocery stores on the Outer Banks is pretty expensive. We’ll pack the meat in the freezer compartment of the camper fridge. We’ll have things like tacos one night and taco salad the next. Spaghetti one night and homemade pizza the next. Chicken and noodles one night and chicken sandwiches the next. Any time you can make two meals out of one package of meat, it saves a lot of money. My biggest hurdle will be our bread. I imagine we’ll have to buy bread when we’re down there. *sigh*

I’m hoping we have some warm weather when we’re down there. It’s not nearly as much fun when it’s cold! Hopefully, we can supplement our food budget with fresh fish!

🌷💛🌷

“Don’t love money; be satisfied with what you have. For God has said, “I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.”” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭13‬:‭5‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
I am grateful we have this opportunity to get away for a few days to spend by the ocean. The fact we have our health and can still pull a camper is a bonus blessing.

Let Your Inner Beauty Shine

Thu, 27 Mar 2025 01:30:00 -0600

Image by Meta AI

Like most women “of a certain age,” I pull hands full of hair out of my brush every week. I think when you have long hair, it looks like you’re losing a lot more than than if you keep it short. But still, I was getting worried. The last time I had my hair this long, my little braid was only as big around as my thumb. My “widow’s peak” was becoming more and more pronounced. So I knew I needed to do something that would help restore my hair, if that was even possible.

I only shampoo my hair once a week and only wash the roots. Rinsing is enough to draw down over the length of my hair and doesn’t strip it of oils. I only use the conditioner on the length of my hair and never on the crown. That way it doesn’t weigh down my hair and make it greasy.

When I started Noom, I also started RYZE Mushroom Coffee and put collagen powder in it. I was amazed what it did for my hair. It was just starting to get silky smooth again when my Endocrinologist asked me to stop the supplement for six months to see if it made a difference in my kidney function. It did not, so I was allowed to return to taking my Vital Proteins Collagen Powder every day. In the time I was off of it, my hair really went downhill. It was frizzy and lifeless and it took a good three months to improve. Now my braid is nice and full, my hair is silky and shiny, and I have new “baby hairs” growing all around my crown. It looks like a halo in the sunshine.

This is a miracle product. After shampooing and before conditioning, I squeeze out as much water as I can. Then I apply this sparingly to the bottom half of my hair and squeeze it through to coat. Then rinse. You don’t have to leave it on long.

I have to switch up my hair products from time to time. The one I’ve been using for the last year or so has worked great. I’ll leave pictures of the products here for you to see and details of my routine. I’m really happy with my hair now. It’s been two years since I cut it last. I’ve let my bangs grow out, too. They’ve gotten long enough that I can almost keep them pulled back in my ponytail. I used to get my hair cut, highlighted, and styled regularly. I quit using any color about two or three years after Mr. Virgo and I got married. I let it go great and it’s been fun to see it change over the years. I don’t think I’ll ever have my mom’s beautiful white hair, but silver works for me.

This is a leave in conditioner. After I’ve conditioned with the regular conditioner, I usually blow-dry my hair but if it’s warm out, I sit in the sun and brush it till it’s dry. Then I use a very small amount of this…pea sized. I rub my hands together then run my hair through my hands in one side of my head and repeat on the other side.

(I always sleep with my hair pulled back in a long braid. I repeat this conditioning step about three times a week before I braid my hair for bed.)

I quit going to the salon altogether once Covid hit. I trimmed my own bangs as best I could and called it good. I’ve never had Covid (thank you, God) and I’ve save quite a bit of money, too. I like the look now that the bangs are way down below my chin. It feels more stylish without even trying. Because I don’t try anymore. If I had the money back that I spent in the hair and nail salon and being pampered with a massage or facial…I could have easily had a trip to Europe. That just makes me sad. But, I was working in those days. I was younger and worried more about appearances.

A lot of things have changed since Mr. FixIt and I have been together. We aren’t fancy by any measure. I mean, we clean up good, but I’ll bet I haven’t put makeup on more than a handful of times in the last decade. I just feel good in my skin now and there are no complaints from my husband. If you feel good, keep clean, drink a lot of water, get some fresh air every day and a little exercise, and a solid night’s sleep…your inner health shines through.

I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but you are BEAUTIFUL! You deserve to take care of yourself however works for you. Be confident and kind and you’ll positively sparkle in the sun!

✨☀️✨

“Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16‬:‭31‬ ‭ESV‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today I am grateful for God showing me I am loved, no matter what I look like. I am loved by Jesus and if Jesus loves me, who am I to not love myself? I am worthy and I am enough…just the way I am!

I’m In My Happy Place!!!

Wed, 05 Mar 2025 02:30:00 -0600

Spending the night in “Grace the Camper.”

OMGosh! Y’all, it was so beautiful yesterday. I took a long walk around the property and picked up some limbs that had blown down. It was 69° and that sun went straight to my bones. It always feels like getting out of prison when the first warm day in March wraps us up in her gentle arms.

Who can tell me what this is?

I looked at the weather forecast and the low for last night was predicted to be 56° so it was time to get some things out in the camper and spend the night. Mr. FixIt had an appointment in town yesterday, so I stayed home and cleaned house. I sent a loaf of sourdough to Mrs. FixIt 1.0 and she loved it. Then I got the camper ready and could hardly wait till bedtime!

Pepperoni Bread….YUMMMM!

I cut into the Pepperoni Bread yesterday afternoon for lunch and I’m telling you…it was SO good! I used a quarter of the 4x batch of Kate’s Sourdough Sandwich Bread, rolled it out, spread some spaghetti sauce on it and covered it with slices of pepperoni. Then I rolled it up tight, put it in a bread pan, and let it rise for an hour or two. I baked it along with the other loaves of bread for 20 minutes, turned the pans so they’d bake evenly, then baked another 15-20 minutes till it reached an internal temperature of 190-200°. (I shoot for 195° for a softer loaf.) I wanted till it completed cooled so I wouldn’t tear the spiral apart. And I warmed it up about 20-25 seconds in the microwave to warm it before eating. Fabulous!

A Flock of Robins…Spring is Coming!!!

When I was coming back to the house, there was a whole flock of robins on the front yard! Another sign that spring isn’t far off. Mr. FixIt has to go to town again today so I’m going to get some more spring cleaning done. It is supposed to rain today and get really windy. I hope you all are staying safe out there with the rough weather that spring brings. What’s the old adage? If March comes in like a lion, it goes out like a lamb. I’m counting on that!

☘️

““Be glad, O children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God, for he has given the early rain for your vindication; he has poured down for you abundant rain, the early and the latter rain, as before.” ‭‭Joel‬ ‭2‬:‭23‬ ‭ESV‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today I am grateful for our little camper and for the five acres we have to camp on for free! I am grateful for the warm sunshine that chases the chill from our weary bones.

The Language of Rebellion

Tue, 11 Feb 2025 02:30:00 -0600

In yesterday’s post, I lamented that I didn’t like the Super Bowl halftime show. I’m not a big fan of rap. I’ve heard of Kendrick Lamar, but I can’t say that I haven’t listened to any of his music. So, I was a captive audience…mainly out of curiosity. As I watched the measured choreography, my brain struggled to find some understanding in his craft. I couldn’t help but think I was missing something. Something told me he was sending out a message…that this was an anthem of rebellion of some type. But, try as I might, my white-bread brain couldn’t suss it out.

In yesterday’s post, I lamented that I didn’t like the Super Bowl halftime show. I’m not a big fan of rap. I’ve heard of Kendrick Lamar, but I can’t say that I have listened to any of his music. So, I was a captive audience…mainly out of curiosity. As I watched the measured choreography, my brain struggled to find some understanding in his craft. I couldn’t help but think I was missing something. I had a feeling he was sending out a message…that this was an anthem of rebellion. But, try as I might, my white-bread brain couldn’t suss it out.

Granted, I couldn’t understand the lyrics. Thinking back, I caught enough words to make me want to investigate further. I don’t like explicit rap. But I came to understand this was Lamar’s art as activism…his paint and canvas. In much the same way as Michelangelo’s sculpture, David…was a symbol of resistance against the powerful Medici patronage in Florence. Marcel Duchamp, Otto Dix, Jasper Johns, Banksy, Picasso…all famous artists that used their work as the language of rebellion against the rise of fascism, war, famine, racism, dehumanization, Apartheid.

Kendrick Lamar was speaking in his own language about something that runs deep in the fabric of our history. For example, the image of the dancers forming an American flag while bent over symbolized how America was built largely on the backs of black people. His songs “40 Acres” hark back to the inhumane practice of slavery. “Wesley’s Theory,” “For Free.” There was symbolism of Uncle Tom and Jim Crow…all in an effort to remind us…the NFL may take the “End Racism” signs down, but we need to keep our eyes open. Unfortunately, it still happens.

I’m not getting into a political discussion. I was just interested in the symbolism and how it fits into our society as a whole. Unless you are a multi-linguist and speak many languages, you really only understand your native tongue. It’s understandable that there will be any forms of free speech that we do not comprehend. But, we can learn…open our minds and hearts…and look into the hearts and minds of others. This is part and parcel the message Jesus gave us…

💜

Love one another as I have loved you. John 13:34

***Gratitude Journal*** 
Today I am grateful for a God who can give me  an open heart and mind to learn and grow in my love and understanding of others.

#understanding, #compassion, #art

Another Monday Morning

Mon, 03 Feb 2025 02:30:00 -0600

No one told us when we were growing up that we’d get to a certain age and our family members and friends and peers would die at what seems like an alarming rate. I hate to admit I’m that person who looks at the obits…almost first thing in the morning. I’m not only looking locally, but I’m also checking the obits in the area where I lived in Colorado. It’s maudlin.

Every week it seems there’s someone else. For Mr. FixIt, too. He was an engineer in one of the local plants and a lot of his workers were smokers and drank a bit. They lived a hard life so he’s lost a lot in the last few years. It’s sad to see so many of our classmates gone, as well. I keep track of them on our class page and the number keeps going up.

We spent a lazy weekend at home. We have a family member in the hospital that we are praying for. I baked two dozen sourdough English muffins yesterday. I made them a little smaller this time…mainly to cut the calories per portion. But these are a little too small. They’ll still be eaten though. I need to make sourdough sandwich bread today. We’ve gone through two loaves in a little over a week. I store it in the fridge to reduce the risk of molding. I can’t believe my weight is staying stable with eating all this bread! As long as I don’t pack on the pounds over the winter, I can lose more when I get more active. We’ll be mowing before you know it.

Time marches on, doesn’t it? I’m sharing a post from February 2020. The world didn’t know Covid yet, but it soon would. It’s about my elderly aunt that I came from Colorado to help in her last years. It’s another lesson in loss.

[www.marshmallowranch.com/when-you-...](https://www.marshmallowranch.com/when-you-know-its-time/)

“But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”

‭‭1 Timothy‬ ‭5‬:‭8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***

Today I am grateful for the friendship of the former Mrs. FixIt. She is such a dear person and I cherish her.

#eldercare, #dementia, #family

Knocked my Noggin

Thu, 30 Jan 2025 02:30:00 -0600

I was still in bed yesterday morning when Mr. FixIt asked if I wanted to go to IHOP for breakfast and then the DMV. Sounds simple, right? Ahhh…there’s no such thing as a simple trip to town when you live twenty miles away.

I was down for pancakes so I got ready, fixed my RYZE, and headed to town for what I knew would be at least a four hour trip. I always take a list so I don’t forget things and it was going to involve several stops.

The DMV didn’t take very long, surprisingly. We went to Sam’s, Aldi, and Lowe’s and headed home. All told, we were gone exactly four hours. Our primary goal when we got back was to get the other headlight put in Mr. FixIt’s truck. It went in without a hitch and looked super! The only thing is the right turn signal light isn’t working right so we need to get a new bulb.

I was getting the flat of water out of the bed of the truck. I shut the tailgate and bent over to pick up the water. Just then, I got hit in the back of my head with what felt like a baseball bat. I saw stars! It was the tailgate that fell open and hit me. If you don’t get that thing latched just right, it will fall open. The bonk on the head didn’t hurt all that bad, but as the evening went on, I could feel the muscles in my neck and upper back getting sore like whiplash. I’m fine. I know what to look for medically, so I’m not concerned. Just another bump in the road…errrr, noggin.

I didn’t do much of anything the rest of the evening. Mr. FixIt made us some supper and we watched the news. We don’t have a lot coming up. Saturday is Mr. FixIt’s birthday. I’ll fix him a special supper that night and we’ll celebrate next Wednesday with a bowling party with the family.

The cold spell has been broken…for the time being. The highs are up in the 50’s and it actually hits 60° on Monday! I called to get a report on Gracie, the camper. The gal said she looks beautiful but it still could be three more weeks or so before she’s ready. We can’t bring her home just yet anyway because the snow hasn’t quite melted and when it does, the ground is going to be really soft so I’ll have to back her in all the way down the curved drive to her parking space. OMGosh! I’ve missed her something awful and can’t wait to camp…even if it’s on our property.

Isn’t it funny…when it get’s down to 50° we think it’s freezing. But in February, when it gets up to 50° we’re praising Jesus that it’s almost over!

☀️😎☀️

“My people will abide in a peaceful habitation, in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭32‬:‭18‬ ‭ESV‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***
Today I am grateful for my health and my hard head. We take our health for granted and as we get older, accidents just happen more often. Mr. FixIt was quickly at my side and took good care of me all evening.

#accident, #errands, #repairs

Give Us This Day

Sun, 26 Jan 2025 02:30:00 -0600

I've been doing a lot of baking lately. It gives me great satisfaction to provide sustenance from my own hands. Bread has just three ingredients…flour, water, salt. With these simple every day pantry items, you can bake bread without preservatives or additives and it tastes much better than anything you can buy in a shoppe.

I measure, add, stir, and knead the dough as I meditate on life. The good things and the challenging things. Sometimes I pick up a thought or phrase in my reading and writing that I mull over as I stretch and fold the dough. If you've made your own leaven by capturing the wild yeasts that create sourdough, it's a much longer process to get that perfectly crispy, aromatic loaf that permeates the entire house. More effort for the work yields better results. (Colossians 3:23)

I listened to a short "sermon" from Trent Tribe on FB yesterday and it took me on a meditation on bread…specifically, the Bread of Life. Then I saw a meme from Kelsey Piggott that was brilliant…

“God gives us the ingredients for our daily bread…but He expects us to do the baking.”

We can read the Bible and thump our chests and scream from the rooftops about what good and faithful Christians we are. Or, we can quietly and calmly take Jesus at His word.

“For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For whoever lacks these qualities is so nearsighted that he is blind, having forgotten that he was cleansed from his former sins.” ‭‭2 Peter‬ ‭1‬:‭5‬-‭9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Culture seems to be defining who a Christian is by warping and twisting the words and meanings of Scripture. The enemy can lure us into thinking we are doing God’s work when indeed…we may be doing just the opposite.

Not every insight or vision comes from God. The Bible says that people should test spirits to see if they are from God, and not to believe every spirit. (1 John 4:1-21 ESV) There is something terribly wrong when a person of strong faith speaks scriptural tenets like love and compassion and kindness only to be ostracized and called nasty. Terribly wrong.

When we have the love of Jesus in our hearts, we are stepping out into the world every single day and representing Him. We have fed on the Bread of Life and that aroma follows us every step of our journey. Speaking goodness and light into the world can be met with anger and ugliness. It may even make us a target for hate. But please…don’t let that ever keep you from sharing your daily bread with others.

Remember, iron sharpens iron and we can improve each other through collaboration, feedback, and challenges. (Proverbs 27:17 ESV) Speaking out against injustices, discrimination, and downright meanness IS displaying the character of Jesus.

🙏🏼

Blessed are the PEACEMAKERS, for they will be called the children of God. Matthew 5:9 ESV

***Gratitude Journal***
Today I am grateful for the opportunities God brings me to share Jesus with others who may not know Him. My experiences and the testimony of my journey to finding Him is the greatest gift I have ever received.

#Devotionals, #Kindness, #Jesus, #DailyBread

Lifting Others Up

Mon, 20 Jan 2025 02:30:00 -0600

Wowza…it snowed another three inches or so yesterday. I’m thinking Mr. FixIt got a touch of frostbite on Friday when he fed the birds in his mesh tennis shoes. (I know…he heard about it.) I didn’t want him to go out and get cold again so I ran the snowblower. That little battery-powered gizmo is pretty handy. The snow was a little heavier than the dry snow we’ve been getting so it wasn’t quite as easy to clear. But I made short work of it. Miss Pumpkin always sleeps in the big 30x40 building in a cat kennel with an electric cat bed to keep her toasty warm. She also has a heated dish so her water never freezes. I always stuff a towel under the door to keep out the drafts. And yesterday I took out an old quilt and covered the big wire kennel that the cat kennel is in. I may even put another quilt between the cat box and the kennel for added insulation. She is the most pampered feral kitty in the ‘hood.

We watched football all day and I heated up the leftover broccoli cheese soup for supper. We were cozy and warm and safe in our home. They canceled bowling last night so I was really glad Mr. FixIt didn’t have to drive to town on those slick roads. Even though the salt tuck goes up and down the road in front of our house, that is still a treacherous two-lane blacktop with lots of twists and turns and hills between here and town.

Our low last night was predicted to be 6° and tonight’s will be 3°. Tomorrow’s however is predicted to be -5°!!! Yikes! There is a young man in Parkersburg who has made it his life’s work to lift people up, help them get off the streets and stop using drugs. His name is Moon King and when he puts a request out on social media for supplies, the community comes out in droves to get him just what he needs. He’s an amazing young man. He busks with his guitar to raise money to help his fellow man. I’m in awe of his selflessness. Most young men his age are too busy chasing corporate dreams to give up everything for his community. God bless him and the others who make such sacrifices.

Today is Martin Luther King Day where we celebrate and honor a man who fought for equality. Having a heart for service is a lofty goal. The Lord loves a cheerful giver. We can’t all be Martin Luther King or even Moon King, but there are small ways we can contribute to “the least of these” that Jesus talked about. How do you help others? Do you volunteer in person, or do you contribute monetarily? Do you collect food or clothing or blankets for the less fortunate. Does your church have a soup kitchen or a local ministry that you assist with?

May we always look out for others…no matter who they are.

❄️🩵❄️

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” James‬ ‭1‬:‭27‬ ‭ESV‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***

Today I am grateful that even in dark and cold times, there are angels unawares among us who seek to help and lift up others selflessly.

#gratitude, #MLK, #service, #volunteering

Shiver me Timbers - It’s COLD!

Wed, 15 Jan 2025 03:00:00 -0600

Wowza…we’re hitting single digits pretty regularly here in WV as of late. I sleep with the window open in the little bedroom. I snuggle down under the electric blanket in that cold room and sleep like a rock. Mr. FixIt keeps his window shut and the furnace grate open…his blanket on just enough to warm the bed then he shuts it off. After several years of trying to sleep his way, I was just getting more and more sleep deprived and I knew it wasn’t healthy. So now we sleep in different rooms and we are much nicer to be around. We still get snuggles and hug whenever we pass each other in the house all day long so we aren’t hurting for contact. It’s just the sleeping part we had to address.

Yesterday was very busy. I had a medical appointment. I delivered Christmas presents to those who were sick and couldn’t come to our party. I went to Tractor Supply and bought three bags of birdseed. I stopped at my friend Jon Six’s hair salon to drop off a whole bag of hats, baby dolls, and baby blankets that I knitted and he was so happy to get them. He’ll take them to the place where homeless girls have their babies.

As I was driving to my next stop, I prayed for the recipients of these gifts that they may be protected from the cold. I felt my privilege lay heavy in my chest as I effortlessly went about my day of shopping…returning to my warm home and ample pantry. Tragically, we had an unhoused woman fall asleep outside of her tent Monday night and she was found yesterday morning…deceased. It breaks my heart.

It reminds me that so many are just one catastrophe away from being homeless. I spent three years traveling around in my camper. There were times when that was a real struggle…especially when I first moved to WV and lived up by the Ohio River in weather like this. I was so blessed to have that comfortable house on wheels. I can’t imagine having nothing more than what you can push in a grocery cart. It’s a problem everywhere and it just seems to be getting worse. I may not be able to do much or give a lot of money, but I can at least help keep them warm with a hat that I’ve prayed over as I knit.

My last stop was the gas station and the grocery store before I went home. I brought everything in from the truck. Since I still had my snow boots and heavy winter coat on, I went to the front of the house and knocked the icicles off the gutter. I put everything away and by that time, I asked if my husband would be satisfied with hotdogs for supper. He was fine with it. I just didn’t have it in me to cook. I found quart containers of chicken livers at the grocery store for $1.50 each so I put one in the freezer and I’ll cook the other container with caramelized onions, mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans for supper tonight. Comfort food that I am extra grateful for today.

I hope you are keeping warm and there’s food in your belly.

❄️🩵❄️

“For there will never cease to be poor in the land. Therefore I command you, ‘You shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in your land.’”
‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭15‬:‭11‬ ‭ESV‬‬

#unhoused #homeless #winter #helpisontheway #helpingothers

*Photo Credit: AI Generated Image by Ginny McKinney

The Elephant in the Room

Sun, 12 Jan 2025 02:30:00 -0600

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about FB lately. Things are changing rapidly in the world. Big, important things. And things that you might think are superfluous but can have repercussions. I’ve been writing this blog for going on twelve years now. I try to make it a safe place free of the angst and darkness that surrounds us at every turn lately. The algorithms are changing. I have over 6,000 readers and sometimes FB’s algorithms only send it out to 200-300 people. And, whenever I post a Sunday Evening Prayer Circle, there are even fewer people who see it. I believe there is a filtration of sorts and outrage and anger seems to be the winning combination. It makes me sad.

I’ve considered stopping altogether but I don’t want to do that. As long as I feel my writing is of service, I’ll keep going. But now the gloves are coming off and the powers that be have chosen a different route. FB will no longer fact check so anything we read is suspect. This is all by design, but that’s not where I’m going with this. Jesus tells us to let our lights shine so that others may know Him by our good deeds. Writing is one of the major ways I shine my light out into the world. So, I’ve decided to keep my blood here on FB. But I’m also exploring Bluesky and Substack as other venues. Are any of you reading over there? I really like both of them. No ads. Far less filth and rage, and that appeals to me. I know it’s hard for people to change…that’s why I’ll stay here. I just want to bring hope and joy, love and light into this little corner of the world. We all need some peace.

We had a lovely day yesterday. I fixed our favorite sourdough French toast for breakfast. Then I spent the afternoon watching Big’s swim meet. She did very well and handily won the 500 meter freestyle event. She’ll swim again today so I’ll get to see her again. We are going to one of the great-grandchildren’s 5th birthday party this evening at the bowling alley. The littles are growing up so fast!

We ended up with another four inches of snow Friday night so our total is fourteen inches in one week! That’s crazy for here. We’ve really been spoiled with mild winters, so we’re paying the piper now. We’re going to warm up a little past freezing for a couple of days then we go right back down in the deep freeze. I bought a parka a couple of years that was made for Canadian winters so I am always toasty warm when I go out in this weather. Between that and my Sorel’s, I’m blessed.

I read a call for items for a local food ministry and I’m going to take the hats and baby dolls that I made over on Tuesday when I go to town. I think I can get some more made before then. It feels good to help others with whatever I can give. TheLord loves a cheerful giver!

❄️🩵❄️

“The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”
‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭9‬:‭6‬-‭7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

#charity #grace #donations #God #shineyourlightbright #shineyourlightontheworld

When God Seems Quiet

Tue, 24 Sep 2024 02:00:00 -0600

Do you sometimes feel this noisy world is drowning out the sound of God’s voice? Sometimes I find myself down the rabbit hole of politics and I want to scream into the void, “Aren’t you listening?????” I find myself in that unenviable and dark place all too often lately and it leaves me exhausted, frustrated, disappointed.

When I am with my wonderful friends whose political viewpoints are diametrically opposite of mine, I do my level best not to “go there.” Not that I am incapable of having a civil discussion, but more out of respect for my friend’s choice to believe as they wish…just as I do.

I got dangerously close to the “third rail” when I was camping with Gail last week. Gail is incredibly wise and kind. We are very close. She patiently let me rant a while then said, “Ginny, you are looking at this only through the lens of politics and not through the heart of God.” We are instructed in the Bible that part of the responsibility of the faithful is to correct the course of our brothers and sisters in Christ. And, while the dogma I ascribe to varies from my dear friend in certain areas, her words were delivered with love and encouragement. For that I am most grateful. To have that dear friend who is emboldened to help when crossing those waters has the potential of damaging your friendship is a deep gift. One that I value tremendously.

Mr. FixIt had to go to town yesterday to see the podiatrist about a place on his foot that I was concerned about. Being a former Diabetes Educator has benefited him these last few years. But having that knowledge brings a different level of worry when things don’t look right. I’ve been slowly getting him in with the specialists I want him to see for his ongoing care and I was thrilled to find this great guy. Dr. Christian Valle is young and knowledgeable with a wonderful bedside manner. When he had some of the nail trimmed away, I was thrilled we weren’t looking at anything bad. Just a heightened awareness that’s always good to have in cases like this.

When we got home, we were getting settled into our Big Red Chairs for a little down time when Mr. FixIt asked if I’d seen Lisa’s post. I went to her FB page and there she was, tucked into a hospital bed, her sweet smile belying her fatigue in order to talk to those who love her. It turns out, a couple of weeks ago, Lisa was diagnosed with metastatic cancer and through much prayer and discussion with her medical team, she decided to come home on hospice. She doesn’t have the energy to talk to everyone so this little recorded conversation was the next best thing.

Lisa was my first school friend. When our teacher had decided I was the one she was going to pick on that year, Lisa was there to pray with me in the little girl’s room before lunch so I could get over my anxiety and eat. Just a few months later, my parents moved us to another school district and I never really connected with Lisa again till we were adults.

She went to Junior High with Mr. FixIt. We saw each other at the class reunions and picnics. Then, when we were married in 2018, I couldn’t think of anyone I wanted more to perform the ceremony than our friend, Lisa.

As I replayed what could be her last farewell to us, my conversations with Gail ran through my mind. Lisa is likely closer to seeing Jesus face-to-face than I am. He knows her well. She’s a pastor and a “good and faithful servant.” I have to ask myself…will He know me when I get there?

I still keep my nose in politics as I vote for my own self-interests and those of my family and community. God gave us free will and I intend to utilize that gift. However, opinions and thoughts are as vast as the universe filled with billions of stars. As I gaze up at the Milky Way, I’m reminded of what led me to Jesus in the first place. He showed me that I am no more consequential in the grand scheme of things than one tiny dot in the blackness of the heavens. All I can do is follow his greatest commandment and LOVE.

Just LOVE.

The rest will get sorted out.

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭8‬:‭3‬-‭4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

“If God seems quiet right now, just remember…no one shouts when they’re standing right next to you.” @abbyshopeshop

#god #heaven #friends #Politics

Hitting the Ground Running

Wed, 12 Jun 2024 01:30:00 -0600

Someone mentioned the other day that our “triplets” may actually be a set of twins and a spare from another mother. I think they may be right because I have not seen baby #3 hanging with these two since the first night I saw them. I’m just going to believe nothing bad happened to her.

I woke up all bright eyed and bushy tailed yesterday morning. There’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep…with NO interruptions…to make the coming day full of vim and vigor. I didn’t get quite the early start I would have liked. If I would have, I might have ended the day with the entire five acres mowed instead of three fourths.

It was busy from the get go. I took the truck in to Walmart to get the oil changed and the tires rotated, picked up the prescriptions, paid the Lowe’s bill. When I was getting my card out of my wallet, I noticed I still had three Walmart Gift Cards. Well…tomorrow is my birthday, right? So, I marched myself right back over to that big box and bought something I’ve been eyeing.

I miss ice cream. I really don’t want to spend the calories on it, but even worse…I don’t want to suffer the after effects of lactose intolerance. Enter the makers of Ninja Creami with their ever so wonderful commercials. Ooooooooh, the things I could make with this thing. I mean, I need another appliance like I need a hole in my head, but I have the cravings for ice cream. What can I say. These things are spendy…I’m not going to lie. But…gift cards! They brought this thing down to a reasonable amount and…it’s my BIRTHDAY TOMORROW. Duh!

There are certain maintenance things you need to do with a camper. Every 10,000 miles or so, you should get the bearings repacked in the hubs. We’re pushing that now and with the big trip across the country, it really needs to be done before we go. I drove over to PKB RV and set up a time this Saturday to have that done. I also need to get new tires. They have them in stock…all I have to do is show up and get them.

I picked up the mail on the way home and there was a package in there. I didn’t think I had ordered anything so I was puzzled. Turns out, it was a couple of skeins of beautiful sock yarn and a new kind of circular knitting needles from Skacel. They are square with little ridges that keep your yarn from falling off! My bestie, Gail sent them to me for my birthday. I was so busy I didn’t get a picture of them, or of the Ninja Creami. I’ll try to snap those tomorrow with links.

Mr. FixIt washed the camper today. It was in desperate need as it hadn’t been done since we got back from the beach last October. I really wasn’t too worried about the salt on it after the spring trip because we drove through some hellacious rain on the way home. When I got home, I didn’t have time to read about my new toy. I needed to get out on the mower. Once he was done washing the camper, Mr. FixIt picked up all that brush from where I trimmed on Sunday afternoon and took it out to the burn pile. It took two full truckloads to get it all. That battery powered trimmer really gets the job done! We called it a day just after 6:00 so we could eat and watch the news.

Today will be another busy day. There is ALWAYS something that needs doing here!

🐝

“In all toil there is profit, but mere talk tends only to poverty.”
Proverbs 14:23 ESV

Reconciliation and Grace

Fri, 31 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

Photo Credit: Internet

Back in October, I told you about a friend of mine that’s been my sister-of-a-different-mother. She reached out to me in a time of need. At the same time, Mr. FixIt came down with Covid and was dreadfully ill and I totally forgot to listen to her message. When I hadn’t responded in a reasonable time, assumptions were made. When she ghosted me, assumptions were made on my part, as well.

After trying unsuccessfully to connect, and knowing her as I do…I backed off and gave her space. I reached out every week or two just to let her know I was thinking of her. Eventually, she started responding but her tone was more like the conversation you might have with someone in the line at the grocery store. But still, I knew she was going through some terribly hard stuff in her personal life, so I practiced grace with my lifelong sister/friend. We practiced grace with each other actually. She could have just walked away permanently.

Finally, I heard from her over the weekend and she asked if we could FaceTime. We selected yesterday. I prayed repeatedly ever since we made the date…asking God to bring me the right words to convey to my friend. To let me be quick to listen and slow to speak. She poured her heart out and spoke her truth. She was devastated that I hadn’t reached out to her during her time of dire need. She felt abandoned. She was confused, hurt, sad, then mad.

I listened carefully. I nodded and agreed with her. I acknowledged her pain. And her frustration and anger. I could see the edges soften a little just getting it off her chest. But I knew we were at a crossroads in our friendship. Neither one of us wanted to end our lifelong bond, but we were unsure of what the other wanted to do. I respectfully corrected a couple of her assumptions which brought some clarity to the situation.

In the end, we professed our love for each other to the bitter end. And we enacted a strategy. Should one of us absolutely NEED the other, we’ve agreed to text “911” and we will drop what we are doing right away and reach out. The crux of our issue was miscommunication. Extending grace with patience and love showed maturity and grace on both our parts…something I feel I’ve just been able to tap into in the last few years.

Life is just entirely too short to waste a minute of it on misunderstandings. I know not all relationships will come together like we did and reconcile with love and grace but it can never hurt to try to practice kindness in our interactions. There will be plenty of opportunities in the coming months to practice grace. Difficult conversations are never easy, but approaching them with grace and kindness will help ease us back toward the give and take of normalcy. This is my prayer, anyway.

🩵

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”
Ephesians 4:32 NIV

A Rainy Day in the Woods

Sat, 18 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

When I woke up early yesterday morning, I looked out the window and it was raining cats and dogs. Of course, I could HEAR it, but it was grey and dismal out there, so I turned over and slept for three more hours! It rained hard off and on most of the day so Gail stayed cozied up in her camper reading and I stayed in mine, deep cleaning and organizing all the cabinets.

That stinkin’ mouse shredded half my toilet paper roll! And you know, once you know you have a mouse and you catch it, you HAVE to clean everything in sight! I used half a container of Clorox wipes and this place is neat as a pin. In my purging of the cabinets, I came across the five dish towels I bought on the Outer Banks last year. They were made from an old vintage tablecloth. I decided to use one for a dishcloth and the other four to protect the fabric on the recliners.

The two white quilts I bought to go on the twin beds in the camper came yesterday along with the king-size top sheet I bought for backing fabric for the curtains. I’ll have to finish that project after we get back from the next camping trip. We leave tomorrow for four days over toward the Eastern Panhandle to visit family.

When I was trying to decide on bedspreads for the camper beds, I saw something really pretty. It was made to look vintage….white on the top with a wide yellow border. The vintage tablecloths have some yellow in them and I’d love to play on that. But those bedspreads were over $100 each. Instead, I ordered two of these yellow reproduction vintage tablecloths. I’m going to sew them on one side of the white bedspread so they’ll be reversible. All for less than ONE of the fancier bedspreads would have cost.

So, the mouse is gone and I haven’t heard another. However…now there are ANTS! Ugh. I’m setting out ant traps. But the worst thing is…that leak we had down at the beach has reappeared. We had really really hard rains yesterday and I think we’re getting water in the camper from a leak somewhere. With campers, it’s not a matter of IF you’ll get a leak. It’s a matter of WHEN you’ll get a leak. We just need to get that taken care of quickly because water kills a camper. I have mitigated it somewhat with an absorbable gel bag that soaks up spills, but that’s just a temporary fix.

I heard from a reader yesterday that I should not use DCon because the poisoned rodents can in turn poison predatory birds like owls. I only used it the one night, then caught the offending little booger in another kind of trap by DCon. So, I just wanted you all to know I’ll not be poisoning mice anymore. I’ll use this.

Gail and I did get a little knitting time in last evening. Then we ran over to her house to pick up the box that arrived for me at her house. Once we got back, we were both tired and called it a night. I got to sit in the cleaned and organized camper and sip a hot beverage before bed. I’ll head home this afternoon, strip the beds and wash the linens. Then I can get the clean sheets back on the beds by nightfall. I won’t even unhook the camper when I get home since we’re leaving in the morning. Mr. FixIt is playing in a golf tournament with Mr. FixIt Jr., their youngest, and her boyfriend today so I’m sure I’ll be home before he is.

I had a really relaxing time this trip…just what I needed.

Who’s up for another road trip?!?!

🌸☀️🌸

“In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves.”
Psalms 127:2 NIV

#Camping, #Grace, #RoadTrip

We’re Halfway Home

Sun, 05 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

Well, we got to the “be-here-by-7:30-or-sleep-in-the-parking-lot” campground at 4:00. Plenty of time to make nice to the nice lady at the desk and ask for a more level site. She accommodated us and in no time at all, we had Grace tucked in between the big girls! Doesn’t she look so tiny??? We are actually one site away from a view of the lake and if it weren’t for that big building on wheels to the left there, we’d wake up with a gorgeous view. That’s ok…I don’t care. I was just really excited to get out of the truck and close my eyes for a few minutes.

We drove into rain around Raleigh-Durham. It was fairly light but people were driving like maniacs and I am sure I ticked them off driving a few miles under the speed limit. That’s ok…I don’t care. I basically stayed to the right and let them move on. I will say, there is some warped sense of satisfaction when someone passes you going 90 and a few miles ahead, they’re pulled over to the side of the road talking with the friendly person with the blue lights on top of their car. Karma is something, isn’t it?

I really wasn’t hungry. I cooked us a couple big breakfast burritos before we took off yesterday morning. Then in the early afternoon, we stopped at Bojangles. I love being in the south. The restaurant was packed and we were the only white people in there. I would imagine there are people who might be frightened or uncomfortable in that situation, but we were met with a roomful of smiling faces and friendly greetings. People are people in our eyes and really…we’ve never met a stranger!

I bought the pulled pork sandwich special but could only eat one so Mr. FixIt had the second one for supper last night. I got up to fix it for him and noticed water on the floor. That is something you do not want to see in a camper. Water kills campers. I took the facing off the area where the water seemed to be coming from and I didn’t find a real source. And there wasn’t a LOT of water…just a little trickle. I had Mr. Fixit turn off the city water to see if that stopped it. (It did!) Then I laid down a desiccant water absorber bag to draw up any water that may continue to come out from under the wall. With a camper, it’s not a case of IF it will spring a leak. It’s WHEN. Because they all do at some point. We’ll sleuth it out when we get home.

Our site was fairly quiet. The big rigs DO make a lot more noise because they have more mechanical processes going on all the time. We were just happy to chill out and I looked forward to my evening snack of yogurt, granola, fresh fruit and a good night’s sleep. We’ll be back home tonight!

☔️

”Then they went to Joshua in the camp at Gilgal and said to him and the Israelites, “We have come from a distant country; make a treaty with us.”“
Joshua 9:6 NIV

Friday was MY Day!

Sat, 04 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

When we woke up yesterday, Mr. FixIt said, “Today is YOUR day. You get to choose whatever you want to do!” Oh, wow! We originally thought we’d go fishing, but after getting skunked on Thursday we decided we were kinda over that. We fished just about every day we were down here on this trip so we were fine with doing something else.

I told Mr. FixIt there were three things I’d like to do…visit the Elizabethan Gardens over in Manteo, go to Knitting Addiction in Kitty Hawk, and take in the Bodie Lighthouse. We stopped at the Golden Arches and got breakfast sandwiches and coffee then headed straight to the gardens.

We visit just about every time we are down here. We took the kids there in October and they nearly jogged through it. It obviously wasn’t their cup of tea. This time, Mr. FixIt and I moseyed through at OUR pace, stopping to see and touch the flowers and plants, read the informational markers, rummage around in the plant shop and the gift shop. We sat on benches in shady corners, marveling at the statuary hidden amongst the countless varieties of shrubbery and trees. We found a path that took us out to the old gates that have fallen away with the erosion of the beaches. There was a bench there and we sat for a long time, holding hands and watching the sun glint on the water. We both commented how pleasant the gardens are when you take the time and “smell the roses.”

From there, we headed up to Kitty Hawk. There is a HUGE Hot Rod and Custom Car Show in Nag’s Head and it took us a long time to get through there. The police were stopping traffic in order to let pedestrians cross the busy four-lane Highway 12 with its 50mph speed limit. Most people see that as merely a suggestion and I have no idea how people don’t get killed on that road every day.

It was fun to see Jeanne at the yarn store. Even though I have a gazillion skeins of yarn at home, and my mantra this year is “use it up,” I HAVE to support local yarn shops whenever I can. I am actually running low on sock yarn so I bought a few skeins of fun colors, different textures, and varied fiber content. Plus a couple of Jeanne’s own patterns. Mr. FixIt waited patiently in the car for me as I browsed and chatted with my knitting friend I’ve been visiting for the last seven years.

When I was finished, we stopped at Food Lion to get some for ham for sandwiches and had a quick “picnic lunch” in the truck before our next stop. We thought about walking up to the top of the Bodie Island Lighthouse, but when we got there, I remembered that it is the one I couldn’t get up more than a third of the way. The walls close in towards the top and there is no movement to the air. I felt like I was suffocating and I left Mr. FixIt to finish with our son-in-law’s dad, Ben. I went back down and sat with Sue. She couldn’t make the climb because of bad knees. I demurred again and Mr. FixIt was happy to wander around the grounds. We took the boardwalk out into the marshy ponds and sat there enjoying the gentle breeze that kept the mosquitoes at bay.

When we got back to the camper, we started putting everything away…inside and out. We packed up the truck and I hooked up to the camper and took it over to dump the tanks. Mr. FixIt laughed when I got back and said some guy came by and saw him sitting in his lawn chair reading…with no camper.

“Where’s your camper, man?”

“My wife took it over to dump the tanks.”

“Wait….what??? Your WIFE took the camper to dump? Man, she’s a keeper!”

I know…I’m ruining it for the other gals at the campground. lol

So, our time at the beach comes to a close. Today we head toward home and we’ll stay overnight at the campground we visited on the way down here. We’ll be SURE to get there before 7:30 this time!!! I hope you’ve enjoyed coming along with us and vacationing vicariously. We’ve had a wonderful time and I truly loved sharing it with you all!

☀️

”You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor. You made them rulers over the works of your hands; you put everything under their feet: all flocks and herds, and the animals of the wild, the birds in the sky, and the fish in the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas.“
Psalms 8:5-8 NIV

One More Sleep

Fri, 03 May 2024 01:00:00 -0600

Pardon my healing thumb…I hurt it when I was building the twin beds in the camper. The weather was perfect yesterday and since the fish weren’t biting, I got a lot of good knitting time in.

It’s amazing how fast a vacation goes. You get there on the first day and think, “What am I going to do to fill up all this time?” Then you blink, and it’s time to head home. You can only hope you’ve taken advantage of where you are and done things that create memories and taken lots of photos so you can remember everything. I find that’s becoming more and more important as we age because vacations tend to blur together and some memories get lost altogether.

We had our favorite breakfast…grits and eggs…then quickly headed to the pier to fish. We didn’t take the truck out on the beach at all this trip. And we certainly didn’t lug all our fishing equipment over the dunes by hand. We’ve actually enjoyed being on the pier. You get a nice breeze and lots of sun. You have a great view of both the ocean and the sound. There are lots of boats and other fishermen to visit with. It wasn’t a “catching day”…just a “fishing day.” We got there at about 10:00am and quit at around 4:00pm. We still had the original bait we started out with on the hook when we pulled it out of the water. A fella not too far from us pulled in a 24” black drum that he caught using sand fleas. Just goes to show you…fishing is a crap shoot.

The sea mist kept rolling in all afternoon and made the bridge disappear!

We were pretty slathered up with sunscreen so even with all that time out there, we didn’t have a sunburn. But we were pretty wiped out by the time we called it a day. We came back to the camper and took showers. I fixed hamburger steaks and steamed broccoli with carrots for a nice healthy supper. By the time we were finished, it was time to go over to the sound for the sunset. We haven’t missed a single one since we got here and this one didn’t disappoint.

Fortunately, the winds have all but disappeared so even 72° was quite warm. Unfortunately, the wind helps to keep the mosquitoes off of you so they were thick as thieves in the still air. I didn’t last very long at the sound before I had to bid a hasty retreat and get in the truck. For some reason, mosquitoes eat me alive and they hardly touch Mr. FixIt. I told him I’m just so much sweeter than he is…they love me!

We’re going to fish for awhile this morning, then come back to the camper and start packing things up. We have to pack up the bed of the truck with all the camping gear before we can hook up the camper and go dump the tanks. Then we’ll come back to our campsite and back the camper in without unhooking it. We’ll sleep in it that way so we can get an early start tomorrow morning. We have to be at our next campground by 7:30 or they lock the gates and you don’t get in. (Unless you happen to find a nice lady to let you in behind her like we did heading down. Shhhhhh….don’t tell!)

I hope you’ve been having a good week. It’s been really hot back home so I’m sure the lawn is going to need mowing.

☀️

”God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”“
Genesis 1:28 NIV

Playing Tourist for the Day

Thu, 02 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

The site where Mr. FixIt’s daughter spread her late husband’s ashes.

After breakfast, we headed up north to get some ice and fresh fruit and to fill up the truck. We got a really good deal on gas at Speedway for $3.13gal. Not bad for out here on the island. Once we had the coolers filled up, we closed up the windows and headed south all the way down to Hatteras Village where the ferry goes over to Ocracoke Island. We meandered back, stopping here and there to see the sights and play tourist.

Our son-in-law passed away suddenly at the age of 50. This was shortly before I was introduced into the family so I never got the chance to meet him, but I hear he was quite the character. Our daughter spread some of his ashes at the beach where the old Cape Hatteras Lighthouse once stood before it was moved to its current location. So every time we are down here, we go say hello to George.

The lighthouse itself is completely ensconced in scaffolding where they are doing a major restoration. It will be closed to visitors until Spring 2026, but the Light-keeper’s house and Museum is open as well as the gift shop. I treated myself to a new cookbook. It looks lovely and has some of the dishes that Mr. FixIt and I both love when we dine out here on the OBX. I shouldn’t say it was my only splurge down here. We went to Belks in Kill Devil Hills looking for a new wallet for me. The cover on my old one was starting to shed small bits of pink plastic from the faux leather. It has served me well over the last ten years, so it was time to get a new one.

We stopped at the Blue Pelican Gallery. I was looking for my friend Chris, but she is usually at home creating things for the shop and I only get to catch her about every other year. She sells yarn in her shop and there were some pretty ones, but I just really need to use up what I have before I go buying more. Remember, my words for 2024 are “Use it up!” I’m trying really hard to do that. We were at several little shops and Mr. FixIt showed me some cute shirts, but I told him I had plenty of clothes and I don’t need anything more right now.

Oregon Inlet Marina…the water was like glass because the wind stopped!

So, we just had a wonderful day together. We’ll try to get some fishing in today and tomorrow. We head home day after tomorrow and there will be a line at the dump station, so we’re going to hook the camper up tomorrow afternoon and take it across the road to empty the tanks. We can sleep in it overnight while it’s hooked up then just pull out on Saturday morning and hit the road.

It’s hard to believe our time at the beach is nearly over. It really has been a beautiful trip and we have the October stay already booked!

☀️

”If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.“
Psalms 139:9-10 NIV

#OBX, #Camping, #Grace

Four Nearly Windless Hours

Wed, 01 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

The wind keeps blowing like crazy but we had four beautiful hours with a gentle breeze so we fished on the pier again. It’s been too windy to go out on the beach to fish. You end up getting sandblasted ankles!

I hooked two HUGE skates today and they broke my line…twice. I decided to quit before I lost any more fishing gear. We didn’t see anyone bring a single fish in. There was a fellow near us who caught a skate. He had heavier line and a net to haul it in. But he threw it back. Mr. FixIt says you can use a round cutter and punch out little circular shapes and cook them like scallops. But, scallops are not my favorite thing and like I said…I was done throwing away hook, line, and sinker.

This is the skate the fellow next to me caught. This was smaller than the two I hooked.

The BEST part of the day were the dolphins! There was a pod of dolphins circling around the pier hunting bluefish. It was crazy! They came right up in front of my and i was so in awe, I didn’t think to pick up my phone to capture it! I did get a video of them swimming around a bit farther off. This went on for a good half hour or so. And we didn’t have to pay someone to go on a sightseeing cruise. The dolphins came to us!

Campground cooking continues to be one of my favorite things. We had Popcorn Pancakes, turkey sausage and eggs for breakfast. I made ham sandwiches for the pier. And we had hotdogs and chips for supper. Camp food, fresh air, sunshine, sand, and sea. The perfect recipe for a beautiful day.

It’s supposed to rain today so we may make it a touring day. We want to go down the island and see the sights. And honestly, I’m happy as a clam knitting and rocking in my camp chair with my feet in the sand. We’ve been in bed asleep by 9:00 every night! We’ll be well rested when we get home!

Three more sleeps and we head back toward home.

☀️💨🌊🎣

”“Once again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish.“
Matthew 13:47 NIV

Gone Fishin’

Tue, 30 Apr 2024 01:30:00 -0600

We had a nice breakfast…French toast and ham. But that made us get a little bit of a late start to the pier to fish. However, we did end up with three beautiful hours with very little wind. And the fish were biting! As soon as I took this picture of my knitting, that rod you see started sliding to the right. I jumped up and grabbed it and started reeling it in. Whatever I had…it was BIG and headed straight for the bridge piling. I felt it break loose and when I reeled in my rig, the hook was broken off!

They’re putting a new roof on the restrooms and the bath house…right behind our camper. Thankfully, they’re almost finished!

We put on a new hook and the next cast, Mr. FixIt got a strike and the same thing happened to him. He put a new hook on his rig and we hoped for the best. My next cast had barely hit the water when BAM…another big one. This one I played and played for a long time and when I finally got it up near the surface, I could see it was a big skate…about two and a half feet across! I’ve never pulled one of those in and man they put up a fight. I got it to the surface and it was thrashing. A man was filming it for OBX TV and got a good shot of it, but then the line broke! I was really bummed.

The campground…nothing to block the wind!

By this time, the wind started to pick up and we didn’t get more than a nibble here and there. We finally called it quits and went back to the camper. We’re going to try going out earlier today so we have more time before the wind hits around 1:00 in the afternoon. As I am writing this, the wind is whipping around the camper at 20mph. It isn’t pleasant out there when it’s like this. We did go for a walk out to the beach after supper and found some shells and what I believe is a bottle nose dolphin vertebra.

I made a great supper…easy for camping. I always bring my big electric skillet with us. I can make soups and sauces, fry anything, and it’s great for casseroles. You can even pan fry biscuits in it. We bought a pound of Jennie-O Taco Seasoned Ground Turkey the other night. I fried that, added a can of drained corn and let it cook. Then I moved everything to one end of the rectangular skillet and laid a tortilla on the hot surface. I added some grated cheese and a generous spoonful of the taco meat. I sprinkled some more cheese and topped with another tortilla. After pressing it down, I let the bottom get a little crispy then carefully flipped the whole thing over. Once the other side was brown, I transferred it to a dinner plate and topped it with salsa. I handed that one off to Mr. FixIt then I fixed mine. They were SO good and we had enough of the taco meat left over to have a taco salad or nachos later. All for less that $5!

Sheep Sorrel

All this sun and sand and wind has us wiped out by the end of the evening and we hit the bed happily at 9:00. We’ll be up and at ‘em much earlier this morning. Stay tuned for fish photos!

🎣

”“I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.“
John 21:3 NIV

Whistle While You Work

Mon, 22 Apr 2024 01:30:00 -0600

This was the first wall I did. It’s kinda like putting together a puzzle. I added another support there in that space to the right.

Land’s sake, y’all…there’s a learning curve here but I’ve got the hang of it now. I had to make a run to Lowe’s today because the cashier didn’t hand me a bag of stuff that I needed. They had it waiting for me at the Pro Desk so while I was there, I added some screws and T-braces to make the beds really sturdy. So, I didn’t get started till till after noon.

Mr. FixIt brought the chop saw out and set it up on the saw horses for me. He watched me cut the first board and made sure I could operate the saw. And wouldn’t you know, the second board I cut an inch short. A good reminder to “measure twice, cut once!” But the wood wasn’t wasted. I can use it someplace else in the project.

I had a little surprise when I took the nightstand off this side. Those are the wires for the solar power. I didn’t want to make the bed any higher so I just cut out a little place in the board and put the wires down through it.

I finished the two outside walls of the beds. They are securely mounted to the walls and the floor. Now I can start filling in the blanks and finish the frames. But first…I have to go BACK to Lowe’s! I think when Mr. FixIt and I sat down to design this and count up the wood I would need, I forgot to multiply x2. I only need about seven more furring strips and maybe a couple of 2x2’s. Then I can put this thing to bed…so to speak. (See what I did there! lol)

Mr. FixIt will mow tomorrow while I finish up the camper. Then we can load up Tuesday. We take off early Wednesday for the beach and I’m SO excited!!! I may not have all the trim and details done before we leave, but the beds will be usable and oh so comfy! I have it all designed in my head and it’s going to be light and fresh.

This is the other side. It was a little trickier because of the water tank. I had a heck of a time getting in there and screwing down those pieces.

I love doing jobs like this. I always have. I remember when I was in grade school…maybe 5th or 6th grade…I asked my mom if I could have a lavender bedroom. I’ve always loved lavender…it’s so soft and soothing. She said she’d ask my dad. The next day, she took me to the hardware store to pick my color. Then I had to wait on my dad to paint it. I waited, and waited, and waited some more. Finally, I got tired of waiting. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to paint a room, so I opened the can and painted HELLO on my bedroom wall.

My dad was NOT happy. I didn’t know what I did meant he’d have to paint a couple of coats to cover. But oh….that room was so pretty, and I was HOOKED on doing all the things. It started a lifelong obsession with projects. I work a project to death….pushing, pushing, pushing. I used to say I do my best work when I’m on a deadline, but I’m not sure that’s as true now as it used to be.

This is the only photo I could find of Mom’s house. I’m sure I have some more somewhere…this is the only one I could get to fast.

When Mom died, I redid her kitchen. I’m the worst at taking before photos, but the kitchen turned out darling. I learned a LOT from that project. I have used those skills over and over. This isn’t nearly as difficult a job as that was. Not by a long shot. Of course, it took me nine months to do Mom’s house. I totally ripped out the bedroom of our camper with only five days to finish! I’m determined!!!

You never know what I’m going to get into do you?!

🩵🌷🩵

”I can do all this through him who gives me strength.“
Philippians 4:13 NIV

Mrs. FixIt Strikes Again

Sat, 20 Apr 2024 01:30:00 -0600

Poor Mr. FixIt…he has a lot to handle with me for a wife. I always get a wild hair, and sometimes at inopportune moments. I’ve been wanting to change the queen bed in the camper to twins. When we travel, we’re tired enough. Add to it a restless night and soon, neither one of us are having a good time. I’ve seen plenty of camper makeovers. I already took out the dinette and put in the double reclining loveseat. That made a huge difference on our trip to the beach last year. So, I thought…why not? I can do this. After all, I renovated my mom’s house all by myself.

My sweetheart was gone for the day yesterday and I honestly thought I could have it finished before he got home. I think I could have if it wasn’t for the little side table pieces. They were a booger to get out…especially the one on the left over the water tank. I worked slow and steady till 3:30 then I had to call it quits. The second Shingrix vaccine is really kicking my behind. I get worn out in the afternoon…especially after working in the camper all day.

I’m really excited about these beds. I have it exactly in my head what I want. And Mr. FixIt…being an engineer…will help me make sure I get all the measurements and design points correct. I want storage space under each bed so it needs to be the right dimensions to accommodate them. I already have all the bedding from the a-frame camper we had with twin beds in it. I did some preliminary measurements and I can cut the memory foam mattress right down the middle and sew some fabric on the cut side and voila! Twin beds! I’m so excited and, a little nervous…I don’t really want Mr. FixIt to see it till it’s done. You know how a project ALWAYS looks WAY worse before it gets finished, right? Well, this falls in that category, for sure!

Once I gave up for the day in the camper, I came inside and started going through the totes. I’m being very picky about what we take this time. We never use everything and it’s just extra weight and costs more gas to tow it. I know I’m going to pay for this tomorrow…I’m already sore!

It’s gotten chilly here. Hope you have an enjoyable weekend!

🩵

”“Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’“
Luke 14:28-30 NIV

Don’t Ask

Tue, 12 Mar 2024 01:30:00 -0600

I scour comments on FB as a study of human character. It deepens my understanding of people…especially in my work as a grief mentor and writer. Most often, people do their level best to say the right things when attempting to comfort someone. But try as they might, there are always going to be clinkers thrown out that may cause deep pain…however unintentional.

One of the most common questions I hear asked of the newly bereaved is… “How did they die?” One would think it is perfectly reasonable for someone who has close acquaintance to the recently departed to inquire such a thing of the family. In the shock of such bad news, we may want to know how a person died because it triggers fear in us. Think Covid. We could be thinking, “Did they have a disease? Could it be something going around and could I be next?” It’s human nature because we feel threatened by not knowing. It makes us anxious. We want to protect ourselves from what happened to them, whether we consciously realize it or not.

With the advent of social media, the lines of etiquette have been blurred. Hiding behind a screen, some people are emboldened to ask things they may or may not in a face to face conversation. This is especially true when the death is unexpected and the descendant is young. No one on my blog or my personal page has asked such a thing, but I’ve seen it on other pages.

The rule of thumb is, if the family has not offered a reason, then we must assume it is not our place to know. I found myself comforting everyone else when Mr. Virgo died…in the ER, at the funeral home, in the street. Everyone deals with grief in their own way. Some want everyone to know. Some can’t bear to say the words out loud. Follow their lead and don’t ask unless you are immediate family.

That being said, what DO you say?

First, ask God to bring you the words.

Admit there ARE no words that can make any of this better and you are so terribly sorry.

Let them know your heart breaks for them.

Tell them your heart is with them.

Tell them you are praying for them and their loved ones.

Tell them something about their loved one and what they meant to you.

Tell them a story about something memorable or funny or amazing about their loved one.

Sit quietly beside them. A hand laid softly on their back or shoulder can convey so much without words.

Listen to their stories.

Hand them a note with your phone number with directions to call anytime, day or night. Do not do this if you are not willing to hear someone snot-crying on the phone at 4:00am like my dear friend Deb McCoy did.

It’s hard to know what to say or do. Try to “read the room” and go by the cues from those grieving the loss. Honestly, if I hear one more journalist ask grieving people what it felt like when they find out their loved one was gone, I’m going to pop a gasket. I’m usually screaming at the TV. “What the **** do you THINK it felt like, you moron!!!” It makes me crazy!

But, I digress.

Just be a good human and love on people…gently, quietly, with peace and grace.

That’s all anyone can ask.

💔

”Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.“
Matthew 5:4 NIV

Mr. Virgo 
09/10/1950 ~ 03/12/2013
Your Memory is a Blessing.

The Matriarch

Fri, 08 Mar 2024 02:30:00 -0600

My grandmother was fifty-six years old when I was born. My grandma was only forty-eight. Yet…they seemed ancient to me when I was a little girl. Their hair was gray and their skin was soft with wrinkles. Blue veins traced rivers on the backs of their hands and brown “liver spots” dotted their arms. They were magical beings with vast knowledge of such things as the perfect chicken and dumplings and soothing slices of jelly bread. They kissed away booboos and loved me unconditionally…my grandma most of all.

I was standing in front of the mirror at The Farm yesterday morning, brushing my own grey hair and pinning it up in a bun just as Grandma had always done. I never knew her to have short hair. As far as I know, she had never cut it or gone to a beauty shop. And she never had bangs. I’ve been letting my bangs grow out. I trimmed them myself through the pandemic so I just kept doing it. Then I waited a little too long and was afraid I’d botch it up. Not wanting to go to the hairdresser, I decided to let them grow out to see if I like them. I don’t NOT like them. I wore my hair swept back when I was growing up. My bangs are getting long enough to sweep them back when I pin my hair up, as long as the bun is high on my head. The jury is still out. I think I notice my face more and maybe that’s not a bad thing. I don’t feel the need to hide anymore and this is a little liberating.

That’s me in the center of the photo with my uncle and cousins going for a ride in the old Model A truck.

My Noom lesson yesterday was on self confidence and giving yourself compliments. We are quick to compliment others, yet we are so hard on ourselves. My exercise for the day was to stand in front of the mirror and give myself a believable compliment…out loud. I stepped closer to the mirror and looked at myself critically. I’ve always had a distinct widow’s peak and that’s why I’ve worn bangs. I was self conscious of the receding hairline on either side of my face. I finished brushing my hair back and said to the girl with the grandmother face who was smiling at me.

“You have a kind face. Your eyes crinkle with your laughter and twinkle with happiness. Every line on your beautiful face reminds you of the multitude of smiles you’ve given over the seventy years your presence has been known here. You are exactly as you were meant to be and exactly where you belong!”

I gave myself a big hug and you know what? I felt better! Why are women so hard on themselves…and on each other? We should be celebrated for the glorious and powerful creatures we are! We should be lifting each other up at every turn and encouraging each other with positivity, love, and grace. I used to be so threatened by other women. And now? No way! I am past all that. I am of the mind that if another doesn’t like me or accept me as I am, they are not deserving of my time and energy and I release myself from the burden of bearing the weight of something that is no longer mine to carry.

I took this picture because, honestly…I don’t see that angle of myself. I wanted to see what the roadmap of wrinkles on my cheeks were up to. When I looked, I smiled. I’m not sad to have my grandmother’s face or my grandma’s long hair swept back in a bun. I’m honored to be counted among the crones.

I am the matriarch now.

🩵

”Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.“
Proverbs 31:30-31 NIV

#Matriarch, #Aging, #PositiveAging, #InternationalWomensDay

When Your Heart Hurts

Sat, 02 Mar 2024 02:30:00 -0600

My heart hurts every day. I hate election years. And, let’s face it…when ISN’T it an election year anymore. Between that, the Medicare enrollment period, and the regular news of tragedy after tragedy, we are constantly bombarded with horrific images and rhetoric. So, how do we cope with all these things? I decided to sit down and come up with a list of things I can actively do to help reduce the stress I feel around these uncertain times. I’m sure you can add things, too. Let’s work together to bring more love and light into the world. Here’s what I came up with:

Above all, I pray and read the Bible. This centers me and keeps me connected to God. He is my anchor in all things.
I limit my exposure to the news. Watching it play out on TV is much more traumatic than reading the highlights in small bites. I am still well informed. I’m just not so overwhelmed.
I eat right. A healthy diet goes a long way toward keeping your emotions on an even keel.
I have a set bedtime every night. I put my phone in “Do Not Disturb” mode and put my electronics down at least thirty minutes before I settle down to sleep.
When I lay down and relax to go to sleep and my mind is racing, I take a deep breath. I don’t embrace the thought or give it energy. I tell myself, “There is nothing I can do about this right this moment.” Then I let it go and, of all things, focus on my feet. I move them around a bit, rub them together. Then I hold them still and concentrate on what I can feel. The pressure of one foot on the other. The feel of the sheet on my skin. The pressure of the mattress from below and the blankets up above. I am asleep in five to ten minutes. I have been sleeping a solid eight or nine hours a night with my current regimen.
Get some fresh air and exercise every day. I’m not always as good at this as I would like, but I try.
Find a hobby. I knit, crochet, quilt, sew, paint, and write. These things are great outlets and help relax me.
Garden. I can’t keep a houseplant alive all winter but I really enjoy my flower gardens in the summer.
Avoid overspending. It’s easy to shop your way into debt trying to make yourself feel better but it’s only going to come back and compound your stress when the bills come in.
Find someone to talk to. Go out for coffee. Go for a walk in the park. Check out that new thrift shop around the corner. Find a group of like-minded people to knit with or a book club.
Be of service to others. Help at a food bank or shelter or the local hospital. Deliver meals to shut-ins. Read to a shut-in. Write handwritten letters to people.
Block all those texts and emails you’re getting from political candidates. If you are inclined to donate to your chosen candidate, you don’t need all those intrusions to make you more inclined. For me, it makes me LESS interested in supporting someone that won’t leave me alone.
Avoid drinking and drugs. They may make you feel a little bit better in the short run, but they are detrimental to your health and wellbeing.

Send out as much love into the world that you possibly can on a daily basis. Jesus spread love everywhere he went. He didn’t pound people over the head and threaten them to get them to comply. He lead people. He didn’t scare them into following him.

Be the love and light of Jesus at every turn.

You’ll feel better. We’ll all feel better. Let’s make it a better world.

🩵

”“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”“
John 13:34-35 NIV

It’s Boxing Day!

Tue, 26 Dec 2023 02:30:00 -0600

I had never heard of Boxing Day till I lived in England. Boxing Day is the tradition of rich families giving boxes of food and presents to the poor. It ostensibly lay started when the servants of the rich people had to work on Christmas Day to serve the family and the guests during the holiday festivities. Now it has become a day to not only box up things for the poor, but to go to after Christmas sales and extend the holiday joy for an extra day.

I’m all about spreading the joy and partaking of it generously myself whenever I can. Mr. FixIt and I had a wonderful, quiet day yesterday with lots of phone calls to and from family members. And, even though we PROMISED there would be no presents underneath the tree, we couldn’t resist gifting a little something to each other. I knitted Mr. FixIt a warm woolen hat and gave him the movies he’s been wanting. I got a pair of warm gloves, a new bubble level for the camper (Mr. FixIt accidentally broke mine), some fishing lures I looked at this fall, and the movie Oppenheimer.

I fixed a great big Christmas breakfast and we watched football most of the day. I finished the last hat for the kids for Christmas and made a couple more for the shop. Instead of working my tail off making Christmas Dinner, we had hamburgers and air-fried French fries. And, for my Christmas treat…I had a nice piece of the fudge with walnuts and one of the Rolo Pretzel cookies that I made this week. Yummy. As I savored it, I asked myself if this was something I would want to sit down and eat a whole plate full and the answer was a resounding “No, thank you!” It will be interesting to see if the sugar makes me feel any different because I haven’t had it in ages. I’ve come a long way. This time last year, my eating was really out of control. This feels better,

I hope you all had as pleasant a day as you could manage. I’ve learned to lower my expectations of this day. In the past, I would strive for the perfect Hallmark holiday…something right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Nowadays, I strive to find peace in the gentle moments between loved ones. I strive to seek joy in the quiet stillness of my studio or the sound of raindrops on the roof of the camper. And that’s just what I did!

It got up to 66° yesterday and it started raining in the evening. The low was supposed to get in the mid fifties, so I asked Mr. FixIt if he would mind if I went “camping.” Of course, he didn’t. If his back and hip weren’t bothering him, he would have come out with me. What a treat to camp on Christmas Day! I brought a little sack of fresh fruit to snack on. I turned on the electric blanket and the little space heater, kicked back in the new recliner with a blanket over my lap, and wrote this post. *sigh* The only happier happy place than this is The Farm, but it will be at least another week before I can go out there for a little R&R.

This week will keep us hopping as we tidy up and prepare for our family gathering on Saturday. So, as soon as I write this, I’m going to turn on the “burning fireplace” video on YouTube and sit here and knit. I may have set my sights low for Christmas this year, but it sure didn’t disappoint. It was a really great day!

”Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!“
2 Corinthians 9:15 ESV

A Last Night Camping

Sun, 05 Nov 2023 02:30:00 -0600

Last winter, I spent many nights sleeping in the camper. I love a cold room and a warm bed. I’ve been sleeping in the house since we got back from our camping trip to the beach and my body has become acclimated to a warmer room. Mr. FixIt and I have been working hard this week trying to make up for the lost time while he was so sick with Covid. So, I rewarded myself with a campout Friday night.

Wow! I piled on the covers and turned on the little space heater that I use in the camper. Once I warmed up, I got way too hot. I turned off the heater, turned down the electric blanket, and took off the comforter I had stacked on top. I drifted off to sleep, but I kept waking up feeling cold. Up went the electric blanket and the blanket. Too hot. Up, down. Up, down. I even considered going in the house, but that meant I’d have to get up and actually go outside in the cold. I rummaged around in the closet and found the wool hat I knitted a couple of months ago. I put it on and I was fine. I slept well the rest of the night.

When I got up and checked the temperature, I fully expected it to be in the low thirties. It was 46! Hokey smokes! That’s not nearly as cold as some of the nights I slept in the camper last winter. So, I took my stuff in the house and that will probably be the last of the camping for the season, unless it’s REALLY warm.

We are still playing catch up around here. We took the canopy off the pergola and put it away. Several of the zip ties that hold up the string of market lights had deteriorated from the sunlight, so I replaced them. We threw away the old chair cushions and stowed all the deck furniture to the side for the winter. Mr. FixIt took the ladder out of the pool. I put away various tools and yard items so now the back of the house looks neater. I trimmed the dead branches off the peony bush and found one lonely Maypop bulb so I spread the seeds out on a paper town to dry for next year. I heard a big tree fall in the woods across the road from the near field. Thank goodness it didn’t fall across the road or where it could hurt anyone or damage anything.

There’s still a lot to be done around here. I’ve been working on my book and I came to the conclusion…I actually have two books there. I have an accountability partner and we met yesterday on FaceTime. She has written several books and is quite knowledgeable about the whole process. She gave me some valuable input that I’ll put to use this week. In the meantime, I’m taking tomorrow off and I’ll sit and knit some. You know what they say about all work and no play.

Mr. FixIt continues to improve for which I am most grateful. He’ll wear a mask now, that’s for sure. He doesn’t want to get this again! I hope you have a blessed Sunday!

🍁

“Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.”
Hebrews 13:16 ESV

#Grace, #God, #Gratitude

How God Works

Fri, 03 Nov 2023 01:30:00 -0600

I want to tell you all about another example of how God takes care of his children. You know our furnace has been on the fritz this fall. We’ve tried everything we knew how to do, but through process of elimination, it became apparent the problem was bigger than we could handle. We also came to the conclusion it was the heat exchanger gone bad. That’s only the single most expensive part on a furnace and a bear to fix.

There are many furnace companies in and around our area we could call. But the bigger the company, the bigger the chunk taken out of your wallet. As with many of you, we are living on a fixed income so big ticket items take some planning. And we have more than one big ticket item that needs done. The furnace, and the roof.

We figured we could put off the roof till next year by painting sealant around the chimney flashing so we could focus on the furnace. Well, two things happened. Mr. FixIt’s buddy Jeff called to give us the phone number of an independent contractor who is a trained heating and refrigeration tech. He’s used this company before and recommended them as thorough, knowledgeable, and affordable.

The furnace guy came yesterday at 8:30AM. I’ve been working with Mr. FixIt enough on this to know what to listen for and what to ask so I dealt with the service person. Mr. FixIt is still distancing himself from people for a while after his bout with Covid. I led the gentleman into the basement and told him what we have done and what symptoms we’ve been noticing. He tore into the furnace and took a video of the inside of the firebox and showed it to me. The heat exchanger was riddled with holes. It’s a wonder the house hasn’t burned down or given us carbon monoxide poisoning!

He left with the promise that he would get an estimate to us by the end of the day and he would also check to see if the part was under warranty. They called back at 6:00PM and said the furnace IS still under warranty so we only have to pay for labor… a HUGE savings! Now we can call the roofer and get them started before the snow flies.

We have discussed this and how we could swing two big jobs without breaking our budget. In comes part three of the story. I truly believe that God took the Lincoln back because we needed these two things MORE. Because, the total of both jobs is almost exactly what insurance paid us for the car when it was totaled!

It is times like this that we look at each other in total awe at how incredibly good God is to us! I don’t even worry about things anymore because I know for a fact they always work out the way God wants them to. We aren’t in control of that. That’s not our business. Our business is to praise God for his loving care and goodness.

Most of my day was spent at the computer again. I have edited a total of 30,313 words in two days. I’ve created new designs for my shop. I cooked a great meal and we’re keeping up with a beautifully clean and organized kitchen and pantry. Mr. FixIt is feeling better every day. He even mulched some leaved today with the push mower! We’re keeping warm with the two gas stoves. We’re just about firing on all cylinders here and things are going smoothly at Marshmallow Ranch.

🍁

“And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 4:19 ESV

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This nostalgic Golden Snowman will look beautiful on any tree. I also makes a unique gift tag!

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Pumpkin Kitty is a Guard Cat!

Mon, 23 Oct 2023 01:30:00 -0600

Well, I was going to lead this with the second photo, but didn’t want to gross y’all out too bad right from the get go before coffee and all. Mr. FixIt went to town to chat with his buddies last evening and I worked on getting the camper ready for winter. I was thinking of camping one more weekend, but I just don’t think I have it in me. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m about camped out for the year! Crazy, right?!

Anyway, I was making trips out to the camper and bringing back tubs of stuff and I almost stepped in a big pile of fresh bear scat! Right in front of the camper door!!! Yikes! I do have bear spray handy, but never even thought I might have to use it in my own backyard. I really think that was what Pumpkin was getting all hairy about on Saturday when she was on high alert. We are extra careful of Pumpkin during the days leading up to Halloween because she’s black. But we’ll put her in her building early and let her out late in the coming weeks till the bears go into hibernation.

I have all the food stuffs out of the camper except for what’s in the fridge. I’ll take that out and clean it in the morning. I’ve winterized the water system in the camper with that pink RV Antifreeze you see gallons of at Walmart in the fall. I emptied out all the bathroom and kitchen cabinets and the underbelly storage. I need to empty the bedroom cabinets and just keep the barest essentials in there because I still like to go out in the afternoons and nap in the winter. I even get brave and sleep out there from time to time when the weather isn’t too harsh.

I got a notification last evening and we had our first frost forecast. Honestly, it’s almost Halloween…it’s time for the frosts to come. I hate to see the pretty leaves fall. But fall they must. I’ve come to the conclusion that winter will come whether I like it or not. I can accept it and embrace it or I can be grumpy. Either way, winter will come. I think I’ll just roll with it!

And watch out for bears!

🍁

“The cow and the bear shall graze; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.”
Isaiah 11:7 ESV

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Keeping with the animal theme of the day, here’s one of my latest designs for my shop.

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“The wicked flee when no one pursues, but the righteous are bold as a lion.”
Proverbs 28:1 ESV

Hello, Lakeside!

Mon, 16 Oct 2023 01:30:00 -0600

Camping Along the Shore at Jordan Lake - Apex, NC

We had the most beautiful drive through red wolf and bear habitat. Past marshy canals that house all manner of turtles and and waterfowl and alligators. We were surrounded by fields of cotton ripe for the picking…soybeans and peanuts with their yellowed foliage withered and dry. Carolina barbecue was advertised on hand painted signs along the two lane blacktop. I can promise you…those with the hand painted signs were the best in their county!

Crepe Myrtle Blooming at the Visitor’s Center on Manteo

The sky was mostly overcast but we left the rain and the gusty winds at the beach. The sound and the inland waterways were brown and choppy. The further west we drove, the calmer the winds and water till we were tooling along easily without being buffeted from side to side. We didn’t take the time to cook breakfast before we left our campsite because we were sure there would be a huge line at the dump station. But, lo and behold, when we got there, it was totally empty…even though several big campers pulled out ahead of us. In no time we had the dirty deed done and moved on down the road.

A Big, Beautiful Campsite with Water and Electric

As we came off the first bridge and arrived in Manteo, I told Mr. FixIt we should really pull into the visitor’s center parking lot and make some ham and egg sandwiches rather than trying to navigate a fast food parking lot towing the camper. We found a parking spot, put the slide out enough that I could get into the “pantry”, aka bathtub, and get the bread and skillet. That bathtub is a convenient place to stow the things that I used to store in the dinette benches. I quickly cooked up a batch of scrambled eggs and heated up the ham slices to melt the cheese. It was better than any quick breakfast food you could get at the arches…and much cheaper, too!

We only drove about four and a half hours yesterday. Which was long enough considering how little we slept the night before. The wind rocked the camper all night, howling and whistling around every corner. I just got to sleep when I heard a loud bang. I looked all around and couldn’t figure out what it was. Again I drifted off and Mr. FixIt forgot to turn the sound down on his phone and he got a notification. I about jumped through my skin! I crawled over him to grab the phone and turn it down, then promptly dropped it on the floor with a loud thump. Now I’m literally laying across him, feeling around on the floor till I made purchase with the phone and hauled it back up by the charge cord. That’s when I looked at the window and saw what had made the crash earlier.

You can see the other loop from our campsite.

Egress windows in a camper are hinged along the top and swing out so you can crawl through if you need to escape quickly. They have a long handle that can prop the window open for ventilation. But, a big gust of wind can lift it up, pull the handle through the slot in fits through, and then it falls down straight on the outside of the camper. That leaves it free to bang the side of the camper with ever gust of wind…which I’m SURE pleased the people sleeping in the tent right beside us. Oh, who am I kidding…they didn’t get a wink of sleep all night, unlike the folks on the other side. She works in an elementary school cafeteria and drives a school bus. She could sleep though an a-bomb. They were up bright and early, chipper as could be!

We stopped at Harris Teeter just before we got to the campground. We’ve eaten a lot of eggs the last week and needed to get more. We also needed ice. Even though we have a small refrigerator in the camper, it’s not really big enough to hold much. So we supplement with the cooler. We got to the campground and I was surprised there was still someone manning the gate. We found our campsite and backed in with no problems. However, when I plugged in the camper, my surge protector indicated the post was wired with reverse polarity. We pulled out to go see if we could move to a different site when Mr. FixIt suggested I test another site to see if it was also reverse polarity and it was. So the whole campground was probably affected.

The closest we got to a sunset.

You are taking a risk when you plug in like that, but when I had Big TowWanda at The Farm, the house was wired the same way and it didn’t hurt the camper. We were so tired, and it was for just the one night so we took the risk and stayed in that site. I went to bed with a prayer that Grace will be ok in spite of my choice.

Our campsite is directly across the road from the lake. I can imagine in warmer weather, the mosquitoes probably take you back to the nest to share with their buddies. Out of an abundance of caution, I sprayed myself up with insect repellent and Mr. FixIt and I took a walk down to the water’s edge. We are in a beautiful forest of tall trees with very little in the way of groundcover and underbrush. Jordan Lake is a huge freshwater lake outside the Raleigh-Durham area with three big campgrounds. If it hadn’t been so cloudy, I’m sure we would have had a beautiful sunset.

Day is Done

Today we head off to a Virginia State Park for the last two nights of our wonderful trip. I honestly think this has been our best vacation to the beach since we’ve been together. We had so much fun together! We’ll be in the mountains tonight so I have no idea if we’ll have cell service, so if you don’t hear from me for a couple of days, don’t be alarmed.

Happy Monday!

🍁

“For every beast of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills.”
Psalm 50:10 ESV

We Have Arrived!!!

Sun, 08 Oct 2023 01:30:00 -0600

OMGosh…what a great campground! We are nestled in amongst the sand dunes in a very narrow part of the island. We cannot see the ocean from our camper, but we can see the sunset over the sound…just not right on the water. It’s so beautiful. We found the perfect place to watch the sunset right across the road from the campground.

We drove through quite a bit of rain on our way down here but just as I was backing the camper into our spot, it stopped. By the time we had everything unhitched and hooked up, the sun was shining. We had to make a decision…go over the dunes and see the ocean, or go across the road and watch the sunset. Those rain clouds were still hanging around so we opted to gamble on a beautiful sunset. It did not disappoint!

It was pretty stuffy Friday night so we slept with the air conditioner going. It killed two birds with one stone…it cooled it down for better sleeping AND it drowned out a lot of the noise from the other campers. That campground was packed. This one is, as well. With Columbus Day on Monday, there are a lot of campers out and about with their kids. We were so happy to see a huge number of Boy Scouts camping this weekend right across from us. There must be 20-25 of them plus their Leaders. They were having so much fun playing organized games when we first got here. But as soon as it got dark, they were quiet as church mice. Good kids.

Mr. FixIt, Jr., his wife, a nephew, and their friends are renting a beach house several miles south of us this week. We are really looking forward to spending some time with them on the beach fishing and playing corn hole. I brought my knitting with me. I kinda like being this far down on the island…there is very little commercialization down here. Less distraction. Less chance of spending money. Just peace and quiet. It’s heavenly. And now…I can rest for a whole week!

🍁

“O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom have you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. Here is the sea, great and wide, which teems with creatures innumerable, living things both small and great. There go the ships, and Leviathan, which you formed to play in it.”
Psalm 104:24-26 ESV

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No ads today. Look for something NEW and fun tomorrow!

Mountain Miles are Longer

Fri, 06 Oct 2023 01:30:00 -0600

Leaving the Greenbrier State Forest Campground

I love to drive. Mountains, plains, twisty-turny or straightaways…I love them all. This camper is so easy to pull that you hardly know it’s back there. The only thing that gives me even the slightest pause is driving through rush hour traffic in a big city towing a camper behind me. Because people be crazy on the highways. They whip around you and dart right back in front of you with inches to spare. They don’t realize I’m hauling a couple of tons of force behind me and I can’t stop as fast as normal…even with electric brakes on the camper. I was in the middle lane going 65 when a guy passed me in the fast lane on my left. Not a problem normally. But then he turned sharp right in front of not only me, but the right lane, too and zipped off the exit. I think my heart is somewhere on the blacktop in Central Virginia.

“Country Roads…Take me Home!”

I can’t tell you where we’re staying while we are here, but it is SO beautiful. It’s in the general area of where we’ve stayed before…just not this campground. The State Park is neat as a pin with spacious campsites nestled in a tall hardwood forest. The camp host is as pleasant as can be. We had a hard time getting level and he loaned us a couple of boards and that was just what we needed. Again, it was nearly dark by the time we had the campsite set up so I whipped up a quick “breakfast/supper”…ham, eggs, and toast. Once I got the dishes cleaned up and sat down, it was almost 9:00. I fixed myself a hot beverage and sat down in our new recliners to write. I think I will smile every single time I sit down in here!

We stopped in a rest area to take a short break and parked by the cutest little homemade teardrop camper. The couple were so nice and offered to show us their handiwork. He made this little camper in his basement! I forgot to ask him how he got it out! She is a nurse who works with Medicaid matching foster and adoptions with the proper services. I told her she is an angel in disguise because that is such hard work. They were just the sweetest people and we may find them visiting us here on these pages! Isn’t this just the cutest thing?

Greenbrier State Forest

I’m really glad we don’t have to travel today. We are going to play tourist and wander around the area a bit. Maybe even catch a nap…I don’t know. I’ll be able to share where we are tomorrow when we leave for the last leg of the drive down to the beach.

🍁

“But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content.”
1 Timothy 6:8 ESV

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Boo! Three scary little pumpkins for Halloween.

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I’m the Exterminator

Tue, 03 Oct 2023 01:30:00 -0600

Mr. FixIt doesn’t like spiders and snakes. I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily afraid of them. I mean, he doesn’t scream like a little girl when he sees them. He just politely informs that there’s a spider or a snake that needs my attention. That’s ok…we all have our strengths and he makes up for it in many other ways.

When I went out the back door Sunday night, I saw a sight I instantly recognized. A shiny black spider with a big abdomen. A Black Widow! I didn’t say a word. I just took off my shoe and kinda smacked it a little. When I turned my shoe over, there was the underside of said spider with the familiar red hourglass. It was then that I showed Mr. FixIt and warned him to watch out when reaching into woodpiles and dark places because this is the time of year the critters are looking for a comfy place to spend the winter.

We had a crazy busy day yesterday. The first thing I did was make antimacassars for the new loveseat. Who knows what antimacassars are? And how did they get their name. Macassar oil was commonly. Used by men in the early 19th century to slick their hair back. It’s made of scented olive oil or castor oil. Women took to making small cloth covers for the tops of chairs to keep from getting grease stains on their furniture. Mr. FixIt doesn’t wear any product in his hair, but like most hard working men, he works outside a lot and perspires so between that and the natural oils in his hair, he stains the tops of chairs. Now, I could have put something lovely over the back of the loveseats, but the fabric is slick and the camper will be bouncing around, so I chose an older towel…a bath sheet because it was bigger. I cut it in half, hemmed the raw end, folded each half and stitched along the side selvages to creat something akin to a pillowcase. It slips right over the top of the chairs and can be removed to launder. I need to do this on the Big Red Chairs in the family room…in my spare time! lol

I went into town with a list a mile long. I can get these things done a little faster on my own because there isn’t any discussion going on and we don’t run into people we know and stand and talk for half an hour. (Bless his heart!) I dropped off the old spare tire mount at the welder and told him what I wanted. Then I ran into town and did the shopping and the mount was finished when I picked it up on my way home. Easy Peasy. The only thing I forgot to do was have him drill a hole in the bottom so the rain will drain out. But Mr. FixIt can do that today.

As happens with all campers, I came home to a mess in the bathroom. The flush valve sprang a leak so now I have to fix that today. I spent a long time last evening going through the camper and organizing the storage since we lost the space under the two bench seats. I’ll finish that up today, too. It’s always something, isn’t it? Oh, and I also have to figure out how to connect the cell booster, but honestly…that can wait till we’re camping.

I need to pop the pork roast in the oven today and get that packaged up for meals for our trip.

Sleep is highly over-rated.

🍁

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”
Jeremiah 29:11 ESV

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Personalized Christmas Ornaments are really starting to get popular now. If you are considering a personalized gift item, I have several to choose from in Marshmallow Ranch Designs.

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Women’s Work Isn’t What it Used to Be

Sun, 01 Oct 2023 01:30:00 -0600

This is what the dinette looked like before. The seats were terribly uncomfortable, the table was mounted way too high, and the front edge of the bench seat dug into your hip everytime to you tried to sit.

Now, before I go any further, Mr. FixIt had to help me at the end with some heavy lifting. But I did a huge job on my own and I’m pretty darned proud of myself! You know yesterday morning I showed you the RV loveseat we purchased to replace the dinette in our new camper. Well, Mr. FixIt left before noon to go get his hair cut and do a little shopping so I got to work on the camper.

The first thing I had to do was empty the storage under the two bench seats of the dinette. We’ve spent enough time in this camper now to know what we use and what just takes up space and weight. With the added weight of the loveseat, I need to trim the stuff we tow along with us and never touch.

My initial thought was, I would empty, sort, cull, collate and store what needed to stay under the bed. The rest would go in the house and then I could start on the demolition. But, no…

I am a Gemini. When I am faced with a fun project, I have to jump in with both feet! I threw everything on the bed, went out to the building to get Mr. FixIt’s tool bag and set to removing the dinette.

It was really quite easy. The benches are screwed down to the floor and the walls of the slideout. I took the first bench out and started on the second. It was a little more complicated because the electrical wiring for the slideout motor was threaded down through a hole in the bottom cross brace. I unhooked the battery and unplugged the camper. Then I tested the lights to make sure the power was indeed off.

I snipped the wires and lifted that bench seat out, then I spliced the wiring back together. Before I went any further, I connected the battery and plugged the camper back in and tested the lights and slideout. Magic! I found my hand-held vacuum and swept the bottom of the slideout to clean it up. Then it was ready to install the new reclining loveseat.

We unloaded the loveseat Friday and set it in the driveway under a tarp. The backs of the recliners come off and they’re really light so I just carried them out to the camper. The seat portion of the recliners was another thing altogether. I lifted them onto the dolly and wheeled them out to the camper, but I didn’t have the strength to carry them into the camper alone. I wheeled first one, then the other and set them on my oilskin tablecloth to keep them clean.

I no sooner got the second one wheeled out to the camper when Mr. FixIt called. He was almost home so I told him I would wait for him before I started the next step. He was really impressed by how much I got done while he was gone. I told him my plan for getting the bottom halves of the chairs inside and he thought it was a fine idea. We brought them in without difficulty and got them placed where we wanted them.

The man at the dealership where we bought the loveseat said I didn’t need to anchor them down, but I didn’t agree with that. I studied the frame and there were two holes in the front bar of the frame that were obviously for bolting it down to the slide. I could just imagine pulling into our campsite and finding the whole apparatus crushed against the kitchen. We discussed the best way to anchor them and decided to run over to the hardware store in our little village to get four lag bolts. We neither one felt it was necessary to anchor the back of the chair to the floor, too. Once the front is anchored, the loveseat isn’t going anywhere unless the trailer turns over and if that happens, dinging up the front of the kitchen cabinets would be the least of our worries.

We found exactly what we needed. Mr FixIt told me how to do it and asked if I needed any help. I gave him a kiss and a big thank you for all the help with the heavy lifting. He gave me a kiss right back and told me what a great job I did!!! It’s been a long time since I’ve done a job like this and I absolutely LOVE it. When you push yourself to do something new, then finish it well, there is a huge sense of accomplishment and pride that comes with that.

So, as I am writing this, I am sitting in my side of the recliner and writing this on my iPad that’s set up on my lap desk. I’m listening to the night sounds and going through a checklist in my mind of what needs to go back in the house and what can be packed in our two trunks we take with us in the bed of the truck. They carry the camping gear we can’t or don’t want to store inside.

We did have a bit of concern yesterday regarding our trip to the beach. I called the campground that’s run by the National Parks Service and was told if there was a shutdown, they would be closed. But it looks like the Continuing Resolution will pass and folks can get their paychecks and we can still go on our last big camping trip of the season.

Welcome, October!!!

???

“For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: “The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.””
2 Thessalonians 3:10 NIV

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No ads today…Enjoy your Sunday!

We Did a Thing

Sat, 30 Sep 2023 01:30:00 -0600

We love our new camper. It’s the perfect size to tow. It’s lightweight. It has every amenity you need…except for a comfortable place to sit. There is a slide out, which is great because it gives you more foot space and you aren’t crawling over each other. However, there is a dinette in the slide that is the most uncomfortable seating I have ever seen in a camper. The table is mounted way too high and even with losing over twenty-five pounds has me feeling like I’m sitting at the kiddies’ table.

It’s not easy to find affordable furniture that will go through the narrow door of a camper. You can find some cheap, entry level padded bench-type love seats. Or you can buy something from IKEA that you have to put together like Tinker Toys. What we really wanted was a loveseat that’s actually made for an RV…preferable one that reclines. These are made with weight and size in mind but man, are they pricey!

We’ve been checking online and even on FB Marketplace. Sometimes people take furniture out of their campers and do something different and they sell the items, but we didn’t have much luck. Mr. FixIt went to town yesterday and decided to stop at one of the two local RV dealers. They happened to have exactly what we were looking for! He’s a wheeler-dealer, this man of mine. He didn’t want to pay what they wanted. It was a difference of $200. The dealer went down a little on the price but wasn’t going any lower than that. Mr. FixIt was going to walk away.

We are preparing to leave Wednesday for the beach for two weeks. It’s October. We very likely will have rain storms while we’re there and the only place to sit is this dinette and it kills our backs. So, I voted and appealed to his back pain and won. We picked it up and brought it home. And now we have to take the dinette out and set this in. I’m SO excited, I could plotz! I sat in this thing. It’s MILES ahead of the dinette. And, each side reclines independently…nearly flat! This means, in a pinch…it could be used for extra sleeping.

I have a place to knit! And to sit while I write! I’ll take the dinette out carefully and maybe someone might want it on Marketplace. I’m doing the happy dance over here. This will make the trip to the beach so much better! The only thing that might stand in our way at this point is weather…or possibly a government shutdown. The campground where we’re staying is in a National Park. Whether we get to camp or not is small potatoes compared to people going without paychecks! We’ll deal with the hand we’re given…one way or the other.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”
Galatians 6:9 NIV

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A Camping We Will Go!

Tue, 19 Sep 2023 01:30:00 -0600

It rained off and on yesterday. Fortunately, it wasn’t raining when we packed up the truck and camper and it held off till we got to the campground. We waited in the truck because they were big raindrops and that’s usually a sign of a brief shower. We have camped in this particular site several times so I backed in slick as a whistle. We were both starving so I fixed us some sandwiches and we set the camp up.

When it started getting dusk, we fished a little bit. Didn’t even get a nibble, but it’s fun to try. Two of my step kids came up to see the campsite and bring us some burgers. We had a fire with the propane campfire pit I bought when I was on The Grand Adventure after Mr. Virgo died. I take it with me most every camping trip and never end up using so it was nice to sit on the banks of the Ohio River with the flames flickering at our feet and no smoky smell!

We were both pretty well done by 9:00 and we snuggled in under the covers. The low was predicted to be 48° during the night so I’m really glad I have my “toaster oven” sleeping beside me! This will be short tonight and hopefully I’ll be able to post the beautiful picture I took of the sliver of a moon over the river just before dark. It makes me wonder why God bothers with us…we are infinitesimal compared to the grand beauty of the universe!

More tomorrow!

“I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous, your handmade sky-jewelry, Moon and stars mounted in their settings. Then I look at my micro-self and wonder, Why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way?”
Psalms 8:3-4 MSG

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Harvest Blessings…we have so much to be grateful for!

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Another Lovely Day at the Campground

Thu, 14 Sep 2023 01:30:00 -0600

Gail had to be in town yesterday, so I spent the morning deep cleaning the camper. I hadn’t really done much other than sweep it out from time to time and it needed some serious attention. I usually end up throwing bags of things in the camper at the last minute when I’m going someplace, so I collated and organized those, too.

The lovely lady who was tent camping a couple of sites away from me was packing up to leave. I cooked my breakfast and as I sat down to give thanks for my meal, I got a nudge. “Share with your neighbor.” I looked over at her. It was cold and rainy Tuesday night. I was sure she hadn’t slept well. I split my big meal in half, added some blueberries and an apple and ran it over to her. Jacqueline is a pastor for a small church in Cleveland. It was such a pleasure to meet her.

Once Gail came back, she came over to tell me lunch would be ready soon. We had a couple of ears of corn and the leftover green beans from the other night. Ohhhh, I will miss the corn. It was so good this summer. We took our leave and went to our respective campers for rest time. I didn’t really rest…I finished up working on the camper. We came back out at around 4:00. I finished knitting my cozy wool hat. Gail finished a pair of fingerless mittens.

The low for last night was predicted to be in the forties, and the longer we sat out, the colder it got. I decided to bake some apples for our dessert. When I picked up the dish, I proceeded to spill hot, sticky apple juice all over my freshly mopped floor! Ahhhh, well…what can you do? I quickly cleaned it up and delivered the apples to the pavilion where we sit and visit. They were delicious and we save half to make “fried apples” in the morning.

We gave up early and turned in. A friend is coming tonight to camp with us, so we’ll have a fire and call in the owls again. Then, it’s time to go home tomorrow. The insurance company did end up totaling the Lincoln and Mr. FixIt said they came and picked it up yesterday morning. Now, a little paperwork when I get home and we’ll get the settlement check, which is twice what they initially offered. When that woman told me we weren’t going to get another dime out of them, I wanted to say, “Really? Watch me.” But what I actually said was, “Thank you so much for your time.” She doesn’t make the rules. She does what they tell her to do and that’s offer the least amount of money possible and they know most people will sigh and say, “OK.” Now I’m praying they don’t cancel my insurance policy. Darned if you do. Darned if you don’t.

This week has flown by. We’ll have to make today count!

“And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”
Acts 2:42 ESV

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Day Three - Are We There Yet???

Sat, 01 Jul 2023 01:30:00 -0600

The third day always seems to be the hardest when I/we make this cross country trek and yesterday was no different. OMGosh! First of all, we had barely gotten on the road when another big storm started coming at us, so we pulled into another Love’s Truck Stop and parked between two semis. It didn’t look like it was going to be as severe as the one on Thursday, which turned out to be a derecho. So, instead of waiting in the truck, we climbed in the camper and went back to sleep!

When the worst was past, we got back on the road and drove through a gentle rain. We hadn’t gone twenty miles when the traffic came to a complete stop. You could look ahead on Waze and see that traffic was backed up for 6.5 miles so we knew it was something serious. Huge wreckers and police cars went up the emergency lane to our right. After about an hour, we started moving forward and were directed off the interstate on a six mile detour. Before long, we were back on the highway and toodled right along to our next campground.

Yesterday was our longest driving day. A projected drive of just under five hours turned into twelve and Miss Ginny wasn’t necessarily her usually happy, perky self when we got to the campground. But, we got here safely and that’s all that matters. The park itself is darling. It must be run by the city. It’s small and clean. Each site has water and electric and is paved. The sites are generously spaced. The only negative I could make is it was Friday night of Independence Day Weekend and it sounded like WWII out there!

I’m still managing to stay on my Noom program while we travel which is no small feat. We hit the hay early and today isn’t supposed to be nearly as long or as far. See you tomorrow!

“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe.”
Psalms 4:8 NLT

Up With The Morning Dew

Wed, 24 May 2023 01:30:00 -0600

I awoke early yesterday. Mr. FixIt had an appointment in town at 10:20 and I was afraid I would oversleep. I laid there…listening to the birds and watching the sky brighten till I finally got up. I really enjoy when I get to sleep in the camper. Pretty soon it will be too hot to sleep out there without an air conditioner and the power we have the camper hooked up to will not support that. So…I take advantage of it while I can.

I dressed while the kettle was heating up then fixed a lovely breakfast of yogurt, fresh sliced peaches, and a sprinkling of granola. When the water was hot, I poured my morning cup of RYZE mushroom coffee and opened the camper door to sit on the steps and eat. I loved how the morning light was coming in the door on my fun rug, so I set the food down and grabbed my phone to capture this little snippet of peace.

Mr. FixIt’s appointment went well, and afterward we went to Ward’s Market. I don’t know if it’s the same Ward’s Market that was over in Belpre when I was growing up. I can remember going there with my mom when I was a child. We always went to Ward’s for the very best watermelon and seasonal fruits and vegetables. Dad had a garden a couple of years, and we always had fresh produce from Grandma’s farm. So going to Ward’s was a special treat.

I stop at this market as often as I can. The folks there are so kind and helpful. There’s always a warm greeting and a funny story. And the colors just pop there…reds, yellows, and greens inside…and crazy beautiful flowers outside. I love hanging baskets of flowers, but the only time I ever had any luck with them was when I built my home in New Castle, Colorado. I had the sprinkler guy hook up a separate zone to water my flowers on a timer, so they were always gorgeous. If you ever make it to Parkersburg, look up Ward’s Market on 7th Street and tell them Ginny McKinney sent you.

We headed home and I made a monstrous salad for a late lunch and we both stretched out for a little siesta. Then we watch the news and Mr. FixIt put the new garden soil we bought on top of the elephant ears he planted a couple of weeks ago. I started cleaning the camper and putting stuff away. We’ve decided to take a quick impromptu camping trip for three nights at one of our favorite nearby campgrounds. Cell service is spotty but just across the river is a produce stand with wifi so I should still be able to post….pictures at the very least!

“Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.”
3 John 1:2 NIV

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Easter Morning

Sun, 09 Apr 2023 01:30:00 -0600

That’s me in the middle with the sausage curls. Mom used to either pin curl my hair or use a Toni Home Perm. Remember those? Grandma’s snuggling Trinket. Bubby is behind me. Tim-Tam and Tissy Rae to the left.

One of my favorite memories is Easter Morning out at the farm. Sometimes all the cousins would be there. We’d all get dressed in our Easter finery and head to the little white church on the hill down the road. There would usually be a crowd there…maybe twenty-five, thirty people. When I was really little, Reverend Proudfoot would come preach if it was our turn on the circuit. I liked him. He often had lunch with us at Grandma and PopPop’s dinner table. When I got older, it was Preacher Simon. He scared the daylights out of me. If Easter didn’t fall on Preaching Sunday, either my PopPop or his brother, Uncle Red, would lead the services and give a bible study. But whoever it was, Easter filled me with awe because Jesus actually rose from the dead that day! It was amazing and wondrous!

We always had to have our pictures taken in our nice clothes…most often in front of some of Grandma’s pretty spring posies. Then we had to change before we ate the scrumptious dinner she made. If we were lucky, we’d have a ham that PopPop cured in the old smokehouse. Grandma would raid the cellar house and bring in jars of her home canned green beans, roast beef, corn, pickles, and her prized blackcap jelly to add to the meal. She’d put out a whole loaf of sliced bread and some of her home churned butter. On her trip to town the week before, she’d buy a head of cabbage and mix up some coleslaw just before we ate so it would be crispy and sour sweet. We would eat till we were stuffed as ticks and have to waddle out to the front porch to sit for a while if it was warm enough.

Us kids would play Tag, Duck-Duck-Goose, Button-Button-Who’s-Got-The-Button, Fox-In-The-Henhouse, and The Telephone Game. We’d have a big Easter Egg Hunt looking for all the eggs Grandma and our Moms hid for us. When we were tired, we’d each get a chance to snuggle up on someone’s lap for a cuddle and if we were really lucky we’d get a little bowl of Grandma’s homemade ice cream. She didn’t make it in an ice cream freezer. She had a loaf pan and she’d pour the hot custard in it. When it was cool enough, she put it in the freezer. She’d check it often and just before it froze solid, she’d take it out and beat the heck out of it with a big spoon and put it back in the freezer. She repeated this several times then she’d leave it in there to firm up. It was so good!

It was a very special Easter if our Aunt Rosie came with Cousin Cathy. Her give name was Catherine, but Grandma always called her Trinket. So, that’s what I usually call her, too. We lost our Aunt Rosie in January this year, and Trinket is bringing her ashes home at the end of this month so all the cousins are going to be together for the first time in nearly thirty years. There will be lots of stories to tell and we’ll just have a big time!

In the meantime, my prayer is that you have a Blessed Easter Day filled with the same reverence and awe we felt as children sitting in the wooden pews of that one room church house in the hills of West Virginia. May your day be one of connection and love and joy!

Happy Easter…He is Risen!

“At the crack of dawn on Sunday, the women came to the tomb carrying the burial spices they had prepared. They found the entrance stone rolled back from the tomb, so they walked in. But once inside, they couldn’t find the body of the Master Jesus. They were puzzled, wondering what to make of this. Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men, light cascading over them, stood there. The women were awestruck and bowed down in worship. The men said, “Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up. Remember how he told you when you were still back in Galilee that he had to be handed over to sinners, be killed on a cross, and in three days rise up?” Then they remembered Jesus’ words.”
Luke 24:1-8 MSG

Getting Things Done

Wed, 05 Apr 2023 01:30:00 -0600

If I would have started earlier, I think I could have gotten these taxes finished in one day. While having the banking finished ahead of time was a real help, there were still a few papers I couldn’t find. We’ll have to run over the hill and get copies of the personal property taxes today. We are really diligent about putting anything tax relate in a special container. Well, ONE of us is…I’m not saying who it is but he gets in trouble every year for the same infraction. (Oops!)

While I worked all day on the computer, Mr. FixIt planted our new rose bushes and got the weed eater out to trim the back yard. He wanted to run over to the market in our little burg so I put the computer down and said “Let’s go! I don’t want to lose all of this glorious warmth by sitting cooped up in this house!” We rolled the windows down and let the velvety spring air blow over us as we marveled at the blooming redbud lining the road. For some reason, our redbud in the hedgerow did not bloom this spring, yet less than a mile away, they’re showing off something proper. The only thing I can guess is the frost got them. They’re growing right by the creek so I think that made it colder. We may not be able to see them out the kitchen window, but there are plenty to see around the countryside.

When we got home, I made sandwiches for supper while Mr. FixIt pulled out an extra chair for me to sit in while we ate. Our first meal al fresco for the year! It was 79° yesterday and expected to be 86° today! We’ll have a cool front pass through tomorrow evening so our temps will cool down again. These gorgeous days make up for all the cold weather we’ve had this year.

I went back to the taxes and finally got to a place where I could stop for the night. We have to make a trip to town today for a couple of appointments, then the youngest WV grandchild is having a birthday dinner this evening. So, it will be a long day but I’m really looking forward to a break and getting out of the house to do something different.

My sweet brother called yesterday to tell me they are moving him tomorrow and he sounded so excited! Please pray his move goes smoothly and he adjusts quickly to his new surroundings. He owns so much of my heart…all I want is his happiness and security!

We are close enough now to our beach vacation that we can see the projected forecast. So far it looks like there’s a little rain which isn’t unusual. We figure if we get 2-3 good days on the beach, we’re golden and the temps look pretty good. I’m really excited because the Girl Campers will be down on the OBX at some point during the week and I get to visit with them for a little bit. I’ll probably have to forego my annual trip to Knitting Addiction with the Girl Campers in town. Mr. & Mrs. FixIt Jr are coming down for the week, so I don’t want to spend a lot of time away. They are so much fun to travel with!

If I don’t get the taxes finished today, then for sure I’ll have them done tomorrow. Then I can get back to that quilt and finish it up to take to the quilter. I’d love to get that done before we leave. The time is going to start flying by now and before we know it, it’ll be fall again. Summer is the fastest few months of the year.

“And God made the two great lights—the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night—and the stars. And God set them in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth, to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good.”
Genesis 1:16-18 ESV

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“Be Kind” It’s been my mantra for as long as I can remember.

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Such A “Big” Weekend!

Fri, 10 Feb 2023 02:30:00 -0600

My goodness…these old campers were so tiny!

Mr. FixIt painted the ceiling in the hallway yesterday. There wasn’t really enough room for the two of us, and it really wasn’t all that big. So I let him do that while I worked on my project. The special events of the weekend are Big’s District Swim Championships and the Super Bowl. I’m thrilled I can watch Big swim live on the internet. And Mr. Virgo’s Eagles are playing in the Super Bowl so I’m pretty invested in this year’s contest.

My dear friend Gail was finally able to come back to her home yesterday after being evacuated due to the train derailment in East Palestine, Ohio. She said you can still smell the chemicals but the EPA continues to reassure them their air and water is safe. She stopped on her way home and got some bottled water. People are losing their animals…cats, dogs, chickens. One man raises domestic foxes and they had to put them down, so who really knows what’s the truth of the matter?

Our temperature got up to 72° yesterday, so as soon as it was an acceptable time, I went out to the camper to spend the night. I can’t remember if I slept out there in January or not, but I seem to think I might have. It was warm enough when I went out to open the windows and let in some fresh air. It’s time to put my other campers up for sale…camping season will be here before we know it! I have the Big Birdhouse. It’s a 2021 Rockwood A-Frame. Then there’s my old ‘67 Franklin that I just know I’m never going to be able to renovate. Lastly, there’s a 10-year old Grey Wolf Hybrid that is a project camper. It would make a great hunting camp trailer.

We will tackle the hallway tomorrow and get it painted then Mr. FixIt can put the trim back up and that job can be crossed off the list. One of these days, we’ll get the main bathroom finished. The really big job for the summer is the roof on the main part of the house. So much to do…always. I would really like to get this house fixed up then we could sell it and move to town and get a home where we can “age in place.” The clock is ticking, people.

“Hard work always pays off; mere talk puts no bread on the table.”
Proverbs 14:23 MSG

Do Dogs Go to Heaven?

Wed, 01 Feb 2023 02:30:00 -0600

Bailey had the sweetest “sugar face”!

When Billy Graham was asked, “Do dogs to go heaven?”, the great Evangelist replied, “God will prepare everything for our perfect happiness in Heaven, and if it takes my dog being there, I believe he’ll be there.” I notice he didn’t say anything about cats, but I’m sure they go, too.

I’ve lost a few dogs. The two that hurt me the most were Boofer and Sidney. Boofer was an Aussie-Blue Healer mix who was the smartest dog I’ve ever known. You just talked to her and she knew what you wanted. Unfortunately, she got a pituitary tumor when she was only seven and we had her put down. I was very pregnant and it was just awful.

We waited a couple of years before we got another dog. That’s when Sidney came to join us. He was a huge purebred Black Lab. He was the runt of the litter and wasn’t sold before the owners were leaving for vacation. In a desperate bid to find him a good home, they went down to our local Walmart and held him up for puppy snuggles.

I knew as soon as I looked in his soulful brown eyes that he was the man for me. I brought him home and sat in the front yard waiting for my family to get home for the surprise. Everyone was instantly in love and he graced us with his presence for fourteen years.

I didn’t have another dog till Mr. Virgo came along with this little ten year old Yorkie-Maltese mix named Cricket. She was a feisty, yappy little dog who needed all kinds of care. I’d never had to get a dog groomed before and, while I loved her because I loved Mr. Virgo, it wasn’t close to the love I felt for my two special companions.

We had to release Cricket from her pain in January 2013. We had her cremated and her little tiny box sat on the hall table, waiting for the spring flower bed to become her new home. Then, just two months later, Mr. Virgo was gone. The funeral director told us we could bring mementos from home and place them in the casket if we wished. The first thing I thought of was Cricket, so she went with my sweetheart…tucked in the crook of his arm.

After I became a widow, my kids said I should get a dog, but I just didn’t have it in me. I was getting ready to go on my Grand Adventure in the little camper I bought. The group of gals I camped with had few rules but one they were adamant about was no doggies. That wasn’t the only deterrent, though. I just did not want to be responsible for anyone or anything. It was everything I could do to learn to take care of myself.

“Our dogs” are now the ones we love but don’t have to take care of. And last week, we heard the sad news that one of our grand-doggies…Bailey…went to the great dog run in the sky. She was a Chocolate Lab-Pitbull mix. It’s always so hard to lose a beloved pet and when we do, it’s perfectly normal to grieve as much as we do for human family members. I always try to remember to reach out to my friends whom I know have lost a pet because I know what it feels like when everyone moves on with their lives and I was left holding a bag full of grief.

So, do our beloved companions go to heaven? I have to say an unequivocal YES! There is no sweeter soul than those of babies and dogs. (OK, cat people…I’m sure your fur babies are there too…along with gerbils and bird and hamsters and ferrets and turtles…you get the drift.) Hubby #2 tells me, “We don’t deserve dogs.” They are just pure goodness. And I believe they’ll be waiting for us to arrive.

If you have lost a beloved family pet, please feel free to leave a picture here. Tell us their name and breed. How long you had them. How long it’s been. Let us hold you with a lingering hug and share in your memories, won’t you? I would love to see your fur babies.

“That’s why I don’t think there’s any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. The created world itself can hardly wait for what’s coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful anticipation deepens.”
Romans 8:18-21 MSG

Finding Light in the Darkness

Sun, 05 Jun 2022 01:30:00 -0600

I do not know what it feels like to be told you have what could be a terminal illness. I’ve held a sacred space for many people that I love as they walk that path but I know that is not the same thing. It’s a different journey than the sudden loss of Mr. Virgo and his heart attack or my best friend who died after a week with a bad stomach flu. I can’t imagine going through all the testing, the waiting, the dread. The treatments. The…decisions.

Before Harry Morgan played Colonel Potter in M*A*S*H, he filmed an episode where he played Major General Bartford Hamilton Steele, a totally batty two-star general. Upon meeting Father Mulcahy, he shouted “There are no atheists in foxholes!” Which is an aphorism suggesting extreme times of stress or fear can cause one to search for a higher power to help through the episode.

I can attest, from a personal perspective, there is much truth in that. It wasn’t until I was “at the bottom of my barrel” after an ugly nervous breakdown and the subsequent loss of my mother that I finally gave in and handed the reigns over to God. I cannot imagine how I would have gotten through Mr. Virgo’s death without Jesus to carry me through the tall grass.

Serious illness triggers a grief response the same as losing a loved one. Finding your way through the darkness of grief is easier when you carry the Light of God with you. That Light gives you hope…not only in the possibility of healing, but also the hope of something beyond. When I was in Colorado last month staying with my son-in-law’s parents, I learned of a book they were reading called After by Bruce Greyson, MD.

Like most science-backed physicians, Dr. Greyson believed “near death experiences” were a product of wishful thinking or the side effects of a dying brain. Then, as a new physician, he had his own experience with a dying patient that he couldn’t explain. This led him into forty-five years of research into Near Death Experiences at the University of Virginia. My friend Sue told me the book made her feel even more hopeful about what lies beyond death.

I ordered my own copy and have just started reading it. I went through an interesting experience when I was in the Emergency Room after my overdose so I’m looking forward to reading similar stories. I know in my heart that Heaven is real. But maybe…just maybe, God gives us these little glimpses of what is to come. Like standing outside the window of the biggest and best toy store as a kid and looking through a clear spot in the glass then sending us home to tell about what we saw.

Where there is Light, there is always hope. It’s something to hold onto, to treasure, to believe in. To have Faith in. It can get you through the darkest hours. Going through the grief of loss, be it life or health or what have you, the cries and laments from the pain is how we honor what was lost. Using that Light to help you through the darkness is life changing. You WILL come out a different person on the other side. Changed.

The greatest change doesn’t come in your comfort zone. On that you can rely.

“Faith shows the reality of what we hope for; it is the evidence of things we cannot see.”
Hebrews 11:1 NLT

The Beauty of Flowers

Sat, 04 Jun 2022 01:30:00 -0600

When I walked into the house last Saturday, there were a dozen roses waiting for me on the kitchen counter. The house was picked up and tidy, there were fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, and a new carton of Half & Half for my coffee in the fridge. I felt so loved and I knew how much Mr. FixIt missed me. I missed him as well, however my time had been packed so full with activities and the chore of driving five days in each direction, I didn’t have much time to dwell on it. Here, it was just him and the cat so he was super duper glad to have me home.

I love flowers. I would love to have a garden like Martha Stewart, but I won’t spend the money to feed the deer and the bunnies who frequent our property. I’ll make do with what nature provides from the first raspberry pink blush of the redbud trees to the ghostly lace dresses of the dogwood in the underbrush of the woods. Wildflowers bloom and fade, only to be replaced with the next batch and the next and the next. It seems to be a never ending parade of beauty here in West Virginia.

While there is always some wildflower blooming here, the real prize for me is the dense canopy of deciduous hardwoods mingled with evergreens in the surrounding woods. Every hour, the light changes and there is a different palette presented for my viewing pleasure. That is God. God gives us beauty. He provides for us these tender moments of peace to soothe our battle weary souls. His plan is to prosper us, give us hope, and a future.

We don’t know his plans. We cannot possibly comprehend that, even in our darkest moments, God is busy turning things around and bringing us something that is better for us. I’ve witnessed a miracle lately. It’s not my story to tell…not now, anyway. But something I’ve prayed for daily for years…YEARS…has come to fruition. Something I never, ever dreamed was even remotely possible. I hope you’ve experienced those moments when there is no other reasonable explanation for something other than prayers have been answered.

It renews my faith every time this happens. I’ve found, when I notice the reality of God’s presence…working miracles right in front of me…I see Him more and more. I hear Him whisper into my heart. And I am humbled that He allows us to see and hear and feel His presence. Ours is a loving God…always and forever.

“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.”
Psalm 139:7-12 ESV

The Gift of Grace

Sun, 13 Mar 2022 01:30:00 -0600

God grants us grace, even though we are fallible creatures and don’t deserve it. It is His Gift to us and we would do well to be appreciative. We share that gift with others as a sort of “paying it forward”. We let go of the slights of others against us. We forgive others of countless trespasses. I’ve found the one person we are most likely to forget when we are handing out grace is ourselves.

This hit home with me this week as I struggled with losses. I wrote about losing my dear friend Diane in December and how I blamed myself for not being more forceful with her… “demanding” that she get out of bed and go to the ER. I wrote about the week leading up to Mr. Virgo’s death and how the doctor wanted him to have a cardiac work up and I didn’t fight harder to get him to acquiesce. I wrote about the clear premonitions I had in the days before his death, yet I said nothing.

We can be so hard on ourselves, can’t we? Those feelings…that “lack of grace” doesn’t come from God, though. It comes from the enemy to try and break us and defeat us. I awoke yesterday at 6:30am…far earlier than usual. I laid there in the early morning stillness, watching the light begin to creep in the windows of our room. The snow was still falling and the wind whistled around the corners of the house and through the hedgerow beyond. I knew sleep would not return, so I quietly slipped out of bed and closed the door behind me.

I made coffee in my Italian espresso maker. It always comes out so strong so I softened it with milk and hot water to make it more palatable. Still, I have been drinking weaker coffee since my surgery, and soon my heart was fluttering and I felt jittery. I rocked in front of the fire and knitted, relished the quiet solitude of these early morning hours before the TV gets turned on. My mind raced faster than my needles. The combination of the extra caffeine and the significance of the day weighed heavily on me and I soon felt anxious.

I truly hate that feeling. The one thing that will make it escalate is the thought that follows. “OMGosh! What would I do if there was an emergency now and I’m feeling so overwhelmed and out of control already?” I know it’s ridiculous because I know God gives us what we need in emergencies. I’m doing much better at turning these things over to God and letting him handle it. I closed my eyes and talked with Him.

“God…I’m going to lay this basket of junk at the foot of your Cross today. Please take it and give me the direction you meant me to go.” In that moment, the word “Grace” popped into my mind. As I sat there and rocked gently, the word loomed ever larger and I realized…God not only wants us to share His Grace with others. He also wants us to grant a goodly portion on ourselves.

It’s ok that I was overwhelmed with all the feelings yesterday. It’s ok that I allowed myself those moments to feel sad and anxious without imposing guilt, shame, and weakness on top of it. I am not weak. I’ve nothing to feel guilty for. I needn’t experience shame. I grieve the losses of the ones I love…and the vast number that I don’t even know.

It’s ok to not be ok every moment of every day. Today is a new day. I don’t stay down very long anymore. I’ll indulge that twenty-four hours…or whatever time I need…then pick myself up, dust myself off, and ask God…

“Ok, what’s next?”

“for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus,”
Romans 3:23-24 ESV

Gifts, Grace, and Gratitude

Wed, 09 Mar 2022 02:30:00 -0600

One of the main reasons people fall in love and get married is chemistry. This includes being “tuned into” each other. One of the main goals of marriage is to keep that connection going. It can be all too easy to go adrift in your relationship. I think having that and losing it when Mr. Virgo died made me all the more aware of what I’d lost when he was gone. I was adrift without oars.

I frantically searched for someone with that kind of connection and in my crazed, grief stricken state, I even manufactured it. Then, after a few years of being on my own, I realized I had become in tune with God and that was far more meaningful. Then Mr. FixIt came along and he was icing on the cake. Let me give you an example.

We love macaroni and cheese, but we rarely eat it because of the fat and salt content. I usually end up making a pan of the homemade variety a couple of times a year, but that is an all day chore and frankly, I just haven’t been as into cooking this winter as I have been the last couple of years. I go in phases.

Mr. FixIt and I both had things to do in town yesterday. I went to the yarn shop to knit for a few hours with the girls, which was so nice. I left earlier than my sweetheart and sometime in the afternoon, we connected by phone. We both went on and ran errands. I was hungry and went on the hunt for something yummy. The only thing I could think of was macaroni and cheese. And not any old thing. I wanted Kraft Deluxe Macaroni and Cheese…the kind full of fat and salt. I was feeling peckish. I ended up with some take out from a Mexican place and it was…meh.

When I got home some time later, Mr. FixIt had beat me there by a half hour or so. I walked in the kitchen to put my leftovers in the fridge and what was sitting on the counter? Three boxes of Kraft Deluxe Macaroni and Cheese!!! This happens all the time with him. When we were just dating, he called me and asked how that bagel was that I had for breakfast. I hadn’t had a bagel in years…I hadn’t discussed bagels with Mr. FixIt…but I bought some the afternoon before and had just finished one when he called! It’s all so Twilight Zone…in the best possible way.

Keeping the lights on in a relationship shouldn’t be hard work, but it does demand attention. My dear friend Diane who passed away in December would read my blog posts about Mr. FixIt and say, “Better you than me, girlfriend. I have no need nor desire for a relationship. I’m fine here on my own.” We’re all different. I was doing fine on my own, but I sure am glad Mr. FixIt stumbled into my world!

My sweet little hat that I’m knitting is coming out lovely. I will say, cables slow you down. I’m a fast knitter, but you can’t really hurry through cables. You have to really pay attention. I had to back it up many times. But, it’s so pretty and soft. I’ve decided to try knitting a gift for each family member this year for Christmas. At this rate, I’ve got a good head start!

“As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace:”
1 Peter 4:10 ESV

Early to Bed, Early to Rise

Sat, 05 Feb 2022 02:30:00 -0600

We went to bed at least two hours early the night before my surgery. My alarm was set for 4:00. Mr. FixIt awoke at three. I didn’t lollygag around and jumped right in the shower. I needed to scrub again with that special antibacterial soap to cut down the risk of infection during surgery. My skin feels like the Sahara Desert but I’m clean as a whistle.

We left at 4:30…plenty of time to navigate the icy, snow packed streets for the five block drive to the hospital. Mr. FixIt dropped me off at the front door of the registration area and headed for the parking garage. Unfortunately, the doors were locked. An employee came along and let me in with him. I walked all around and there was a sign that said the registration area was closed. I couldn’t find anyone to even ask, so I called my sweetie to come back and get me. We were obviously at the wrong spot.

He was already in the parking garage so he swung back around and they let I’m out without paying. He came to get me and dropped me off at the other hospital and headed back to the garage. And….there was no one there, either! I called him back. The guy at the garage must have thought he was crazy. He came and got me and we went back to the first hospital and this time there was a line at the desk ten deep and I was now 10 minutes late!

Someone mentioned if you were there for an early surgery, you needed to go over to a different room. A few of us made our way their, asking “What time is your surgery?” along the way, democratically selecting the priority patient. I won. Within two minutes, I was called with another couple to follow a gentleman to the preop staging area. I was assured someone would bring my husband along as soon as he came in from the parking garage.

I went through the typical rigamarole one is subjected to when prepping for surgery. Lots of questions that you’ve already answered a hundred times. An IV placement by a very skilled IV Nurse along with a blood draw. ECG tabs placed on my chest and a reading taken. Blood pressure taken, pulse counted, blood oxygen measured. Papers signed. Visits by the different departments involved. And finally, the wait for the attending physician to arrive….this time after driving in on bad roads.

I’ve had a lot of surgeries and worked in medicine for a long time. There is something I do every time I’m about to go under the knife. I look around the room and ask in an upbeat voice… “How are we all doing today? Is this a great day, or what!?!” Then I grab the hand of the nearest staff member and say a quick prayer.

“Jesus, be with us today. Thank you for these good people.”

I’ve never had someone take their hand away.

The most lovely young women hovered around my head, smiling behind their masks. One said, “What music would you like to hear?” The first thing that popped in my mind was Enya’s Watermark Album. I listen to that on headphones whenever I’m at the dentist. I have since the ‘90s. She turned it on and set her phone by my head and I listened to the muted tones of Orinoco Flow. My shoulders relaxed as I remembered the days when my baby was tiny and I would dance her around the room, gently swaying and rocking her to sleep. I knew I was going to get to dance yesterday, even if it was just in my mind.

There was something special about the way these women guided me off to sleep. Female voices. Nurturing voices. Hands holding me, paying rapt attention to me as if I were the center of the universe. It was like a lullaby.

“Hear us now.” A plastic mask was placed over my face. “Now…take a couple of deep slow breaths and you’re going to feel sunshine going into your hand.” I smiled at that image. It didn’t burn or sting…it was the pleasant feeling of sunshine on my skin. “Now, you’ll taste the sunshine and we’ll be right here with you.” I tasted the sun on the edge of my tongue and I was totally gone.

What an amazing way to go to sleep. And, you know what? I woke up the very same way…warmed by the sun, the memory of dancing with my baby to the Orinoco Flow still fresh in my memory, even though three-and-a-half hours had passed. It was remarkable. I must write them a note to thank them for their precious way.

Again, there was good news, and uncertain news. This surgeon was also unable to visualize the two parathyroid glands that they couldn’t find in Florida. However, the upper right, which was normal in March of 2020 was now enlarged and putting off too much parathyroid hormone so it was removed. My numbers didn’t go down in the OR like they had hoped. There was a possibility that part of my thyroid would be removed in order to take out any glands trapped inside. The surgeon made a decision to leave the thyroid intact because my vocal cord nerve was enmeshed in it and he didn’t want to risk damaging my voice.

So, here we are….back where we were last March. Hopefully optimistic with eleven months of experience to the otherwise under my belt. Going in a second time is risky. Going in a third time can be outright dangerous. I don’t know if it was the gentle way I was led under sedation or my skill at pragmatism, but I’m ready to move forward into whatever is waiting ahead of me.

God is the ultimate healer, so I’m just going to give this to him every day and ask him to take care of it for me. Sometimes we can’t fix things…we can just carry them. I’m not upset. I’m still hopeful. I trust Jesus to carry this…either away from me, or for me. Either way, I will feel joy!

❄️❤️❄️

“Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for you are my praise.”
Jeremiah 17:14 ESV

Remembering my Re-Birthday and Watching it Snow

Fri, 07 Jan 2022 02:30:00 -0600

Yesterday was my “re-birthday”. It marked 22 years since one of the darkest days of my life. It turned out to be the turning point that actually saved my life. It was the first day of the 8,036 days I’ve spent sober. It was also the lowest point of my depression. Hubby #2 had long since emotionally checked out of our marriage and I had no idea how I was going to survive without him. That night…22 years ago…I overdosed on two full bottles of pills and could easily have died.

It was the end of my twenty year marriage, but it was the beginning of the journey back to myself. I became a better mom…a better friend…a better human. In time. It was hard work and I seriously think it was that experience that gave me the tools I needed to navigate the grief of Mr. Virgo’s death. January 6th is Epiphany…a day of joy and faith. Joy and faith eluded me that day in 2000. It took a lot time, but I’ve found both again in ways I’d never experienced…even with my late husband.

I marked the day with Mr. FixIt. We fiddled around the house a little. We watched some mindless TV. He went to the store for bread and milk. I started knitting the second sock. Then we settled in to watch the “Severe Weather Bulletin” on the news out of Huntington. We can’t get the local news through our satellite company, so we watch what’s happening to our neighbors a couple hours south of us.

The “Severe Weather Bulletin” interrupted regular programming for at least three hours. They had remote broadcasts from eight or ten reporters. They’d switch over and the reporter inevitably said, “Yep…it’s still snowing here.” Then they would pan over and show you the snow on the road. Yep…the road was white. It was snow alright. I had to laugh, because…well, I lived in Colorado for forty years. Where…you know…it SNOWS!

The first snow after Mr. Virgo died. Colorado - December 2013

It’s so funny to see what happens in different areas of the country when it snows. An inch of snow can paralyze a southern state for days. In Colorado, it’s called October. Or November, December, or any month…clear through May. And sometimes June or July if you’re up in the high country. School let out early yesterday afternoon. You know…to get the kids home before the Snowpocalypse hit. There won’t be school today, I guarantee it.

When my kids were in school in the mountains of Colorado, they only had one snow day that I can remember. It was -27 and they couldn’t get the buses started that morning. If Coloradans called off school every time it snowed…well, there wouldn’t be much schoolin’. So, I kinda giggle at the mass hysteria when we get a little snow here in West Virginia. It was awfully pretty. And I was really glad we didn’t have any place to go yesterday. We just made a big pot of spaghetti and watched it snow. It was a really good place to be…literally and figuratively.

❄️

““He orders the snow, ‘Blanket the earth!’ and the rain, ‘Soak the whole countryside!’ No one can escape the weather—it’s there. And no one can escape from God.”
Job 37:6-8 MSG

Be the Light, Change the World

Tue, 30 Nov 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Photo Credit: @QuoteILoveU via Twitter

There are countless ways to live in this world. I used to operate without a safety net. I never read the instruction manual. I flew by the seat of my pants and wondered why things never changed for me. Every day, day in and day out, I made what felt like really bad decisions. It turns out…there are no mistakes. Only lessons. And God is a funny guy…He’ll keep bringing you serving after serving of the same stuff till you learn the lesson you’re being presented with.

Baby Christians…those who are new to the faith…see the world through rose colored glasses because God’s Grace is so new and so big and so obvious…most of the time, anyway. After you’ve been in the game for a while, it’s easy to forget just how big and awesome He is. It’s also easy to forget He doesn’t just give you a menu that you can pick and choose from then serve it all up on a silver platter. It just doesn’t work that way.

God always hears our prayers. And, He is omnipresent meaning He is here in every part of your life when you want Him to be. He answers prayers. We’ve all seen answered prayers. He answers ALL prayers. It’s just that sometimes the answer is “not yet” or, that bitter pill…. “no”. When you’re living life on easy street and you see blessing after blessing, miracle after miracle…it’s easy to see God. The problem comes when things are tough. That’s when it’s hard to hear Him. Hard to see Him. Hard to FEEL Him.

When life is challenging, like it seems to be these days, it’s easy to give up and think there’s no use trying. It’s easy to slip into the story the world is telling you. And, the more you listen to that story, the more darkness surrounds you. You can become numbed by the siren’s song of shopping, gossip, television, violence most frequently found on the internet and in the news and on social media.

We are like magnets. We are what we eat. Not just literally, but figuratively. When we “eat” a steady diet of negativity, it clouds our vision. We attract what we hunger for so more and more darkness fill our minds and hearts when what we really want is goodness and light. I don’t know anyone who starts each morning with a cup of coffee and says to the universe, “Please, fill me with ugliness and garbage and hatred today. Bring me all the things that will hurt me and ruin my life.”

I have found, the more light I open myself up to, the more light I can shine out into the world. When I stay away from disturbing images, vulgar language, hateful rhetoric…I have more room in my heart for the things listed in Philippians. The things we are directed to ponder. Whatever is True…Noble…Right…Pure…Lovely…Admirable.

Be the Change.
Be the Light.
Be the Church.
Be Good.
Be Kind.
Be Helpful.
Be Hopeful.
Be Generous.
Be Noble.
Be Honest.
Be Trustworthy.
Be of Good Moral Fiber.
Show Good Character.

Be the Light you want to see in the world. As Michelle Obama said, “When they go low, we go high.” When the haters hate…don’t give them airtime. Don’t acknowledge them. A fire cannot burn without fuel.

Be careful where you strike your match.

It is the last day of November, dear ones. We are in the holiday season where love and light and laughter are de rigueur. I don’t know about you, but I’d sure like to see it last more than a month. I’ve been laid up since Saturday night nursing a pulled muscle in my lower back. This has given me the opportunity to sit still with my feet up…something that is so NOT my usual routine. I’ve knitted. I’ve read. I’ve watched a little Andy Griffith. I’ve watched the birds and the kitty laying in the sun and looked at pictures on my phone. I’ve called up friends and family and caught up with correspondence. But, mostly I’ve sat in quiet contemplation. I’m determined to be the bearer of as much light and love and joy as I can possibly carry into and through the New Year.

Let’s do this. Let’s turn things around and bring some healing into the heart of the world. Lord knows…it needs it.

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.”
Philippians 4:8-9 ESV

Grounding Myself

Wed, 18 Aug 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Honestly, I live a charmed life. A wonderful husband and friend and partner in crime. A healthy and happy family. A peaceful five acre plot of land with a big red brick house on it. A couple of trucks. More than a couple of campers. (Yeah…it’s an addiction!) I have reasonably good health, considering. And it’ll be even better when I get this parathyroid thing worked out. The bottom line is, I really don’t have anything to complain about.

I wrote yesterday about the leak in the camper and the tires that arrived the wrong size. Frustrating, but minor inconveniences. Someone commented how exhausting these trials can be, no matter how minor. Mr. FixIt had appointments all day yesterday so he left without waking me. It was almost noon when I woke up! I must have really needed the rest…but I was shocked.

We are in the midst of a very rainy stretch. I need to have the camper at Setzer’s this morning, so I figured I’d tow it down there yesterday afternoon and stay the night in a campground near the dealership. I ran downstairs to get some clean clothes and stepped on the carpet…and my plans for the day changed in an instant. We got water in the basement again. I was so frustrated. We’ve worked on that drain and it’s down so well. I just couldn’t figure out what happened. I grabbed the carpet cleaner and started sucking up the water. In a little while, another downpour hit and I figured it out. The gutter was plugged up and when the water can’t go down the drainpipe, it overflows and quickly overwhelms the storm drain.

I spent my afternoon sucking up water and cursing this house. When I was finally finished with the carpet, I came upstairs, got a cold drink, and sat down for a break. I could feel the tension in my shoulders and neck. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I needed something to calm me down. To center me. A thought popped in my head.

“You need grounding.”

Oh, I did…I really did. I walked outside barefoot into a light sprinkling rain. I walked over to the lawn and soaked up the earth’s energy through the soles of my feet. I lifted my face to the sky and let the cool rain drops melt away any frustration of the day. It’s not a big deal. We got a little lax in our weekly maintenance is all. It’s easy to let things build up until small things feel big. With my newfound calm, I went on with my day and was my happy self when my sweetheart came home.

I’ve learned to take my stress off like a jacket and leave it at the door when evening comes. It’s an extension of what I used to do when I worked. Just because we are retired, doesn’t mean we don’t need to practice leaving things on the “worry tree” outside. On the contrary…it’s even more important because we are together 24/7 now. Working to keep things positive and productive and healthy is a goal we all should work toward in our home relationships. Keeping God at the center, reminding myself that He has plans to prosper us and give us a future, and taking time out to ground myself with my feet on the ground made for a beautiful day…leaks or no leaks.

“He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers.”
Psalm 1:3 ESV

Church Among the Birds

Mon, 02 Aug 2021 01:30:00 -0600

We haven’t been back to church since late February 2020. Mostly due to covid and our church’s “lack of enthusiasm” toward mask wearing. But also due to sermons smacking of Christian Nationalism and a lack of financial transparency and accountability. We felt kind of burned out and disillusioned so we took a break. It didn’t keep me from studying the Bible and reading my daily devotionals and praying. But I’ll tell you what it did do. It slowly became apparent I wasn’t keeping my life centered on God. I was spending entirely too much energy on being critical and judgmental of everyone and everything. This isn’t good.

When we were sitting around the campfire with Gail and her husband on Saturday night, she invited us over to her campsite to listen to Sunday morning Church with them. We brought our breakfast and hot beverages with us at 9:25 and settled in our big comfy chairs to listen to the first in a new series about…relationships. You see what God did there? He sent His Holy Spirit to make me aware we weren’t keeping a solid foundation under us and to nudge Gail into inviting us to “campground church”. And, He inspired the Pastor to speak into our hearts and feed us with God’s Word regarding the one thing we were stumbling over…relationships. With each other, with God, with the Church.

The sermon was wonderful and fed us. It spurred us to have deeper conversations. It made me see how easy it is to lose sight of the direction we should be going. I love how God does that. He brings us just what we need, when we need it. He is the ultimate provider. It felt so good to sit in the cool morning sunshine, sipping coffee with dear friends, and feel God moving in our lives.

We packed up, hooked up the new camper, and headed home around 11:00. We arrived around 4:00. This camper is so easy to pull, you often forget it’s even back there. We didn’t have a bit of trouble. We stopped at Leith Run to check out the campground there and see which campsites we liked the best for future reference. They have several sites right on the river. We’ve stayed there before and we are anxious to go back.

After a quick nap, and a little wait for a passing rain shower to end, we got the camper unhooked and set up again at home. There she sits…waiting for the next adventure. As I was towing her home, her name came to me.

“The Birdhouse”…Birdie for short.

For one, she is shaped just like a birdhouse. And for another, she houses a pair of lovebirds beneath her peaked roof. I’ll decorate her with my favorite birds! I know guys aren’t as into that kind of thing as us gals, but Mr. FixIt is such a good sport.

“Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell; they sing among the branches.”
Psalm 104:12 ESV

Whatever Happened to Manners?

Fri, 23 Jul 2021 01:30:00 -0600

The other night, Mr. FixIt and I went to our local pizza establishment to get our twice-weekly ice cream to take to the park. As with most food service establishments, they have had issues about getting and keeping help. There have been signs saying they were training a whole new crew and to please be patient. Hey, I’m retired. I’m rarely EVER in a hurry to do anything, let alone pick up some ice cream.

A young lady came to the counter and asked if she could help me.

“Yes, please…I’d like two small ice creams…one vanilla and one twist. But, I’d like them in a styrofoam cup, not the the little plastic ones. By the time we get them over to the park, they drip all over me when I open them.”

“Ok. That will be $4.88.”

I hand her a $20 then said, “Hang on a second, I have the change.”

She held the bill in her hand and looked at me puzzled.

“Oh, that’s ok…you don’t need to give me change. You gave me a $20.”

I smiled behind my mask. “Yes, I did. But, If i give you $.88, you can give me $16 in change. That way, you have extra coins in your register, and I don’t have to carry so much weight around.”

I could see the gears turning as she thought about what I said. She did a quick finger count.

“Right!”

When she handed me the $16, she leaned forward and said, conspiratorially, “thanks for explaining so patiently. Most people would have treated me like an idiot.”

“Well, honey…I’m not like most people. I still believe in manners.”

I smiled and stepped aside.

The woman behind me walked up to the register and said in a loud, demanding voice, “Your phone is off the hook! I’ve been holding for 20 minutes and no one got back to me!” Which already doesn’t make sense…how can the phone be “off the hook” when you are on hold?

Anyway the young lady behind the register had a slightly stricken look and apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry. Here, what can I get you?”

The woman didn’t let up and continued to rant, even while the young lady was trying to take her order. I caught the employees eye, tapped my heart with my fist and winked at her.

She continued to treat the woman with kindness and respect. Then, the next woman in line stepped up. About this time, my ice cream was ready. I took it from the young man serving it, and walked straight to the register. I leaned forward and said, “Please excuse me for interrupting, but I just wanted to tell you what a fine job you did there.”

The woman she was currently waiting on turned to me and said, “Thank you for telling her that! She was really given a hard time there and she needs to hear the good things about her.”

“Yes, she does! My late husband worked in the food service industry all his career and he always told me, whenever you see someone doing a good job, tell them. Right then and there. It can make all the difference in the world because this can be a thankless job.”

I waved to them both and walked out with my frozen treats.

I understand we don’t know what that woman was going through. We don’t know what her circumstances are. But, for some reason, kindness and good manners have just gone right out the window…especially since the beginning of Covid. I know we are frustrated. I know the world has been polarized and pitted person against person…usually down political lines. But there is absolutely no excuse in exhibiting poor behavior toward people in the service industry. Well, toward ANYONE, really. It isn’t biblical to treat others poorly.

Emily Post is whirling in her grave. And, Jesus can’t be any too happy either!

“And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.”
Luke 6:31 ESV

When Life Smacks You

Wed, 09 Jun 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Yesterday was just an ordinary day here on Marshmallow Ranch...aka the Ponderosa. We puttered around the house. Mr. FixIt worked on the drywall in the small bathroom we’ve been refinishing. We’ve been working on it for ages but other things, like strokes and covid and stuff kept pushing it to the back burner. But now, I am so grateful to say...Mr. FixIt is SO much better. He’s stronger and more himself and I’m thrilled he feels well. A job is just a job. Getting him well and happy and healthy was our first priority.

I put things away and organized my electronics and I’m almost finished with the office. I was just finishing putting a variety of cables, cameras, and recording equipment in a carry bag when I heard one of my bonus granddaughters out in the yard. She and her dad came for a visit so we took a break and sat out by the pool to talk. She told us all about her latest softball tournament and how hot it was out on the field. It was so nice to see them.

When they left, we went back to work. We used the clippers to trim back the forsythia along one side of the yard. It is absolutely amazing to me how fast things grow here. We worked till it was just too hot at 88 degrees to keep going then we stopped for lunch. Most afternoons, we stretch out for a bit during the hottest part of the day and have a little siesta, then pick up where we left off. This time, we drove into town to pick up some things then get an ice cream and sit at the park to watch the river.

By the time we got home, the sky was getting dark and we had a really good rain with some lightning and thunder. We’ve needed the moisture terribly so we were happy to have it. We sat down to watch America’s Got Talent. I really enjoy it because it reminds me of growing up watching Ted Mack’s Amateur Hour and the Ed Sullivan Show. But, it was the last act of the night that had me gob-smacked.

A tiny little wisp of a thing from Zanesville, Ohio came on to sing an original song. When asked what she does for a living, she revealed she’d been dealing with cancer over the last few years so she hadn’t worked. I know there are people who come on these shows and you think they’re just using them for ratings and sympathy. But this little gal was different. She was special. Her whole heart was open and real and authentic. She stepped to the microphone, opened her mouth, and out came the music of heaven....at least as I would imagine it to be.

She sang a song that was raw and real and told of her fight and that...it’s ok to not be ok. It’s alright. When she finished, you could have heard a pin drop till the audience finally jumped to their feed and gave her a well deserved standing ovation. Each judge spoke of how fearless she seemed and when it got to Simon, it was obvious she had really touched him. When he remarked how happy she was, she said something that I had to write down. I asked Mr. FixIt to rewind so I could be sure to get it right. She said:

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy.”
Nightbirde

That really hit me. I’ve dealt with depression and anxiety all of my life. Moments like these are the tools I keep in my tool box for when I feel I’m struggling. I mean, this sweet, young woman with the closely cropped hair still has cancer in her lungs, her spine, and her liver. She revealed she only has a 2% chance of survival. But she looked into the camera and said, “You know? It’s not 0%...it’s 2 whole percent. I just wish people could understand how special that is.”

Sometimes life smacks you a little and says, “Wake up, kid! Look around you!” I’m so grateful I got to see little “Nightbirde” sing. You can watch HERE.

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 NIV

It Was the Best of Times...It Was the Worst of Times

Mon, 17 May 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Charles Dickens was speaking of the events leading up to the French Revolution, of course. And my little slice of reality is nothing in comparison. However, whenever we are going through hard things, our things are the hardest things because they’re OUR things. Grief has many sources, and it’s no small thing to walk away from your family home.

I’ve been at the farm since Saturday afternoon. I thought I’d get a lot done yesterday, but I did not. And that’s ok. I sat on the front porch most of the day, staring at my grandma’s huge rhododendron. It isn’t lost on me that THE most beautiful peak of bloom is occurring during my last official day here. Tomorrow evening is the close of the auction. I’ve asked everyone I know to buy the farm so I can still come here. Who knows the fate of this land besides God? I just have this wonderful feeling it’s going into the hands of someone who will love it the same as I do. I’m going to stand on that conviction.

I was a sponge yesterday...soaking up every ounce of love from this place. I awoke to the beloved sound of a gentle rain on the tin roof...even though we had no such rain predicted. I drove over to the service station-diner-convenience store-tire center early to get some butter. I forgot to bring some over and I want pancakes on my last morning here. The time passed all too quickly and just as the light began to change, I snapped this shot of the perfect blossoms on the perfect bush in the most perfect place I know. I sat on the porch and watched the chipmunks chasing each other around the yard. A flicker kept sweeping in to the old, rotten stump of the poplar tree my PopPop planted years ago...snatching an insect here and there, then flying on. A big, fat rabbit slowly made its way along the base of the spirea along the ditch by the road....nibbling on the new grass and avoiding the bee balm and flags.

The neighbor across the road was planting his garden. It’s always so lovely because he keeps the deer out with an electric fence. Otherwise, it’s nothing but a salad bar for critters. His wife came out with Molly, their one year old lab pup who is full of boundless energy. Bees from the hives down the road buzzed from flower to flower. I happily munched on my sandwich, sharing some chips with the chipmunks. Four-wheelers came one by one down the road...heading back home after a fun day of “muddin’” on the area’s many dirt roads that lead to old oil and gas wells and timber cuts.

As night fell, I talked with Mr. FixIt. I told him I saw him on the security camera planting OUR garden. I laughed and told him he can’t get away with anything now that we’ve put those in! lol We hung up and I came in, locking the doors behind me...just as Grandma did over the decades she lived in this little red house in the holler. This is my last day. The last night I’ll spend in my grandma’s house. Even if it DOES sell to someone I know and even if I DO get to sleep in here again...it’ll be different. It won’t be ours...mine. Not physically, anyway.

Life is still lovely...and it will go on. More stories will come. I’ll remember things I haven’t told you about the old home place. And...more likely than not...I’ll tell you stories I’ve told you before. I’m of that age, you know. It’s one of the joys of growing older...you get to tell stories with freshness because you can’t remember who you’ve told them to before. Probably easier on me than you, come to think of it.

The barred owl came to talk softly to me in the growing darkness. He didn’t give his usual full call....just a short “coo” to let me know he was there. Then, ever so slowly, he made his way from tree to tree...getting further and further away...till I could just barely hear him in the woods on the far hill. Fitting, I think....that things get softer and further away as I let this lovely place go.

Tomorrow morning, you’ll read of my last night here...but it’s surely not the last you’ll hear about the farm.

“I will bless you with a future filled with hope—a future of success, not of suffering. You will turn back to me and ask for help, and I will answer your prayers.”
Jeremiah 29:11-12 CEV

Hiding in Plain Sight

Wed, 28 Apr 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Mr. FixIt got an early start on the tractor yesterday. I could see him on the security camera, sitting in the driveway, threading the new drive belt on the mower deck. I jumped up, grabbed my coffee, and headed out to join him. He got the mower deck on and running, but the new belt slipped off twice and it really shouldn’t do that. I took the push mower into the fenced area of the back yard around the pool and started mowing. It was rapidly heading to 80 degrees by the time I was half finished.

After a quick rehydration break, and checking to see if Mr. FixIt needed any help, I made quick work of the yard and checked back in with him. He ordered a different belt from the tractor company, but I talked him into heading out to the farm with me to mow before the rain starts today. I left before him so I could be first in the driveway, because I’ve decided to stay at the farm for a few days and get some sorting and packing done.

This was the first time I was going to see the farm after my cousin came and took a lot of their things...grandma’s dining room table, the old buffet, the oak secretary from the living room. I knew it would look so different when I went in, and I prepared myself for an emotional homecoming.

As I drove through the backroads, my eye was continually drawn to the hillsides around me. There, standing like misty clouds of white in the shadows of the tall, leafless trees stood countless dogwoods in full bloom. I’ve lived in the country here for several years now, and I cannot remember seeing SO many dogwoods. They made me smile.

It occurred to me...so many beautiful things in this life live in the shadows. Here are these huge poplar, sycamore, hickory, and all manner of deciduous trees that will soon be fully leafed out in all their glory...showing off, bending in the breeze, their fresh spring green foliage shimmering in the sun. For now, they are still mere buds on bare grey limbs. But there, underneath them...the dogwoods are dressed in their lacy dresses, floating Ike dancers on a stage for all the world to see if they just look.

As I am wont to do, I looked for what God was trying to tell me as I drove the familiar route to the home of my heart and it didn’t take long to make the connection. It was God who brought me here in the first place. He knew my heart was broken from losing Mr. Virgo. He knew my servant’s heart wanted to help my elderly aunt. He knew we were both stubborn, cantankerous women...oil and water. He knew there would be a parting of the ways. And...He knew my destiny was to cross paths with Mr. FixIt.

My life was so tenuous when I came here. I practically had nothing more than what I could carry, and TOW-Wanda. I didn’t have a long range plan because I couldn’t see a life for me after losing my husband. I felt my children were older and didn’t really need their mom and my grands were busy with school and friends. And to be honest? I didn’t think I could possible live much longer anyway because my heart was broken...as was my spirit.

God knew just what He was doing when He brought me here. I had the opportunity to come off the road and live on this hallowed ground where my grandparents lived. This was my healing place. This was where I danced among the tall trees...tenuously taking steps out onto the stage in my lacy dress. Just like the sweet dogwoods on the hills that surround me as I write this.

We often are overshadowed in life by the bigger things, the brighter people, the seemingly more important stuff. We hide in plain sight until it is our time to shine. Will I be sad when the farm sells? Of course...there will be a part of me that will always ache for THIS home. But, it won’t break me. God gave me seven whole years to call this place home. It is my touchstone to the past and these years have been such a tremendous gift to me. I did a lot of healing here. My sweetheart came to court me here. We sat many times on the front porch in the quiet evenings and listened to the night sounds...the heady aroma of the woods washing over us. You can’t buy that kind of love. This is GOD love, this farm. That will ALWAYS be mine because God poured that all over me and into me...every moment I’ve been here.

From now till the day I die, whenever I see dogwood trees blooming among the naked trees, I will remember this sunny, perfect April day and the many blessings God gave me on this little patch of ground.

“Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.””
Genesis 28:15 ESV

An Employee Shortage

Thu, 22 Apr 2021 01:30:00 -0600

This trip to the beach has been different than any I’ve made so far. Usually this week is moderately busy...wedged between Spring Break and Bike Week, you almost always have lines to get into restaurants and bars. Places may be closed on Sunday, but almost always things open back up on Monday. This time, there are a lot of places only open from Wednesday through Saturday. And the reason is...they can’t find workers.

That may be because of unemployment insurance. If they can get paid the same...or MORE than what they were making working forty hours a week, there are a boatload of folks opting to ride the benefit wave till it runs out. In the meantime, they’re doing I don’t know what...traveling? Taking a class online? Learning to knit? I will say, I saw more kite surfers than I’ve ever seen before, so there’s that.

The paucity of reliable employees has caused some real frustration with business owners down here. I saw a few signs that said “this location is closed because we can’t get good help. Come see us at our other store. AND, if you want a fun job, call ###-###-####.” For those who ARE open, they’re doing the best they can to provide good service...sometimes to an unappreciative, if not totally clueless crowd.

I stumbled upon this sign in Tullio’s Bakery Tuesday morning. I can only imagine what kind of abuse their employees were faced with to warrant such a warning, but I have to say...when I was in there, the little gal was darling and very patient as I made my choices. BTW...Tullio’s is much better than Duck Donuts. They had real flavor as opposed to the greasy sugar bombs Duck Donuts throws out. (Sorry, DD...assembly line cake donuts from a mix is not a donut...it is fried cake. I don’t usually diss a product, but they left a lot to be desired.)

I left yesterday in the middle of the morning to go to my favorite knitting shop. I was sad to hear Jeanne, the owner, wasn’t there due to a family issue. I really missed visiting with her. But, I picked up a few things. They always have some custom died yarns and I love them so much. As I was heading south to Knitting Addiction, I noticed the thermometer on the truck was already 74! I called Mr. FixIt and told him to be ready...as soon as I finished my little shopping foray, I wanted to pick him up and go have some fun! It was too nice of a day to miss out on play time!

We drove all the way down to the tip of the island to Hatteras Village. I stopped at my other favorite yarn shop in the back on The Blue Pelican Gallery. I bought a kit for Little so I can teach her to knit, and a shawl kit for me. We wandered around the shops and stopped to see some sights. Then, we got a seafood dinner to go and had a picnic as we watched the sunbeams shining down through little breaks in the clouds. It was really a glorious day. It got all the way up to 78 and I was one happy little camper!

Today is supposed to be much cooler and rainy, so we are hanging around the condo and I’ll start a new knitting project. Tomorrow is our last day and it’s supposed to be warm and sunny so we’ll spend as much time on the beach as we can. The week at the beach always goes WAY too fast and we will soon be heading back to West Virginia. I’ll get out to the farm for a few days alone just as soon as I can. And Mr. FixIt will finish the work on the master bath, with the help of his best friend, Harry.

At least we didn’t get the snow they had in Colorado...OR in West Virginia! There’s something to be said for getting away to the beach at this time of year!

“But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.”
Romans 8:25 ESV

Prayers and Miracles and Grace

Wed, 07 Apr 2021 01:30:00 -0600

I’ve been posting the Sunday Evening Prayer Circle for a few years now. I love that we can come together and pray for each other and lift those in need. Prayer is so powerful and helps everyone involved...pray-er and pray-ee. I also post from time to time when there is urgent prayer needed and I appreciate every single one of you that take the time to pray with me.

We don’t always get an update on these prayer requests and today I wanted to share a couple with you.

A few weeks ago, I asked for prayers for my friend Janine’s niece, Lauren. She had a brain bleed the day before her due date. After the subsequent surgery, she had a massive brain stem stroke that left her with “locked in syndrome.” This is where the patient has full mental faculties, but their body is totally paralyzed. She knows what’s going on, but can’t speak or move. Lauren was moved to a specialty rehabilitation hospital in Chicago when she stabilized. After intense therapies, she can now nod her head up and down, her vocal cords are waking up, and she can moved her left foot a little. This is HUGE, considering the prognosis and the family covets your continued prayers as Lauren works hard to come back to her husband and little baby girl.

Monday evening, I posted an urgent prayer request for my dear friend Sharon’s grandson Kyle. He was in a car accident where both vehicles rolled. Fortunately, Kyle and his friend were wearing seatbelts. His friend was able to scramble out of the car, but Kyle was stuck and unconscious. He was life-flighted to National Children’s Hospital in Columbus. He had severe lacerations to his scalp and was sedated and intubated in ICU. He drifted in and out of consciousness, and finally came around enough that the breathing tubes could be removed. He remained in ICU so they could monitor his brain function. Then, yesterday morning, Kyle was sitting up, wide awake in a recliner. No broken bones, no internal injuries, no brain damage! He was discharged home by last evening.

You cannot tell me that God isn’t still in the miracle business. There was every reason to believe either one of these cases could have ended very differently. I know the families of both of these young people, and I know God will use these difficult times for His Glory. I just wanted to take a moment and let you know how your prayers have helped people in real time.

Thank you so much for being here and always being ready to lift up those in need!

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”
Mark 11:24 ESV

Day 334: Throwing Out a Lifeline

Sat, 13 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Sometimes we lose our moorings. We become untethered and bound about, endlessly bouncing from one disaster to the next...wondering if life will every slow down. Just a little. Just enough to catch our breath. We bob and weave like a buoy....broken away and tossed on the waves...no way to be saved. Or to save others.

I’ve been cut loose like that from time to time. And, in the depths of my loss, something happens that reels me back in and makes me feel calmer, more anchored. I know it’s often my own prayers that bring me back to God...to my source of peace and comfort. But, it occurred to me last night as I was meditating on this topic...sometimes it’s the prayers of others that bring us back.

As I scanned the last week, there have been so many opportunities for me to pray. Some for myself, for sure. But many, many opportunities to pray for others. The other night, a sweet friend from my little town in Colorado texted to tell me we had lost a very dear man...a friend to all. A quiet man with a fierce love for life. A talented actor. An adventurer. A sweet spirit.

I last chatted with him a week or so ago. He had survived his second bout of cancer and the scans were clear, he said. He had to come home from Asia where he’s lived for several years so he could get his cancer treatments. He had to leave his love there, because it’s very difficult to get a visa. They’ve worked at it for the better part of three years, and finally it was granted. She was packed and on her way to join him. He was to pick her up at the airport today. Instead, they had to contact her at the airport to tell her...he had died in his sleep the night before.

Of all the sadness and anger and ugly things that have happened in the last year...that broke me. I know sudden loss. I understand the gut punch a snatch death brings. But, to finally be on her way, then.... I’m heartbroken for her...and I have never met her. So, I pray for her and I hold her in my heart. And I throw her a line.

My friend Kate has been widowed not quite four months. She is still learning to navigate this with teenaged twins. Hers was also a snatch death...a heart attack...just exactly like Mr. Virgo. She’s going through the same things I did....the anger, the fear, the guilt. And, just when she landed a dream job, a horrific ice storm is felling trees and branches all over her acreage. So far, it hasn’t damaged her house too much, but there’s four more days to go through this storm. So, I pray for her and I hold her in my heart. And I throw her a line.

My friend Janine has a niece who just had her first baby...right in the middle of a debilitating brain bleed and resulting surgery and things are scary...sort of touch and go. The family is beside themselves and praying harder than they ever have. So, I pray for her and I hold her in my heart. And I throw her a line.

God gives me an endless supply of lifelines to throw out to people in the form of prayer. When I throw that line out to someone, it sticks to them...whether they know it or not...whether they feel it or not. Then God picks up the other end of the line and takes it from there.

Just as I sat down to write this, a Silver Alert came across my phone. I looked down at the face of the middle aged man and I recognized in him a developmental disability...much like my own brother, and my sweet Uncle Bob who is gone with Jesus now. This man is lost somewhere and it is frightfully cold. He doesn’t have a warm winter coat on...only a hooded sweatshirt. This breaks me even more. There...but for the Grace of God. That could have been my brother. I am overcome with gratitude that he has always been loved and cared for and the people with whom we have entrusted his care are so good to him.

So...I pray for them all...I hold them in my heart. Then I throw them a line.

“Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.”
James 5:16 NIV

Day 330: God is Listening...All the Time

Tue, 09 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Yesterday was a busy day, and one that reminds me of the power of prayer. First, I had to run into town to get my eyes tested. I have the very beginnings of cataracts...who doesn’t at this age, right? And, my prescription didn’t change but just the tiniest bit. Not enough to warrant buying new glasses, but I did order a pair of prescription bifocal sunglasses. I haven’t had a pair for ages. The last ones I had got ruined when I sprayed insect repellent or sunscreen or something on and it got on the lenses. It took the coating off and there was no way to fix them. And they were really expensive. Mr. FixIt buys his glasses from Zenni Optical online. You have to explain to your optometrist that you’re on a fixed budget and you need to have them give you your prescription and measure the pupil distance. Then you can order online and it’s a lot cheaper.

I got home in time for a Zoom interview for my friend, Joe Webb’s podcast. Joe is a Methodist Minister and leads a very interesting ministry. I used to attend on Sunday nights at the brew pub up in Marietta, Ohio. Then they went totally online after the pandemic hit. The folks love the online format so much, they’ve elected to keep it on Zoom which opens a lot of avenues. The group has gotten larger and has spread over a much larger geographical area. I spoke to his group a couple of times over the years, but it’s been quite a while since we’ve had a chance to catch up. It will go live on 3/5 and I will leave a link for you when it’s up.

I no sooner closed my iPad from the Zoom interview when my friend Janine called with an update on her niece. She is the one I asked for urgent prayers for Sunday night. She did have an aneurysm with a brain bleed. They did surgery to relieve the pressure, but it was too involved to fix. They needed to do a C-Section to get the baby delivered healthy first. The baby is fine and will go home with grandma and grandpa tomorrow. At 3:00 yesterday morning, Lauren had to be rushed back into the OR to relieve the pressure again, but this time, they didn’t feel she was strong enough to go through the prolonged surgery so it was put off again.

After people all over the world came together urgently and prayed for Lauren and she was back in ICU, her husband went in to see her yesterday morning and...she opened her eyes, talked to him, and has NO PARALYSIS! That right there is an absolute miracle, my friends. I could hardly wait to share the news with you. She still needs to have the surgery to correct the aneurysm itself, but she has come so far! Please continue to keep Lauren, and Josh, and baby, and the family in your prayers.

““Unless you people see signs and wonders,” Jesus told him, “you will never believe.””
John 4:48 NIV

Day 329: Sifting Through the Sands of Time

Mon, 08 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Super Bowl Sunday was decidedly different this year. We always have the whole family over and I make trays and trays of wings and finger foods. We have that great queso cheese in the slow cooker and spinach artichoke dip. Crudités and chips for dipping. This year featured me and Mr. FixIt and leftover roast chicken sandwiches. Quiet and a little lonely. I sure miss the kids, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel. The second dose of the covid vaccine comes soon, then I feel like we can breathe a little easier.

I spent the day nosing around Ancestry filling in the blanks on Mr. FixIt’s side of the family. It’s a little easier when I work on it while he’s in the room with me. It’s neat when I find pictures of family members that neither of us have seen. We found a lot of information about ancestors who fought in the Civil War. All the while, watching the last football game of the season.

I’m one of those fair weather fans who get into things like The Final Four and Super Bowl. Don’t ask me to sit and watch every game throughout the entire season. I just can’t do it. However, I love the excitement of the finished product. I especially enjoy the Super Bowl commercials. There were some funny ones this year. There were quite a few that were heart warming and gave all the feels. And, of course...there were several that left us looking at each other and saying, “What the heck was that all about?” I especially enjoyed the Jeep commercial with Bruce Springsteen. It’s about re-uniting and meeting in the middle...a place I sorely hope we can find again sooner rather than later.

One of the high points of my weekend was watching “Big” in her high school swim meet. She is on two teams...high school and competitive. She had high hopes to be in the Olympics this summer. It’s good to have goals, and...it’s really good when you are confident in your abilities and know when and where to focus your energy. At one point, she had to make a choice with swimming....strictly competitive or college team focused. She’s a bright girl. She’ll have academic and athletic scholarships and she’ll have a good choice of colleges. And, at the end of this month, she’ll be 17! Honest...I have no idea how she grew up so fast.

There is a girl on her team who never swam before this year. First meets are so stressful and this girl came off the block and did a belly flop. Then, she was lapped by everyone else at least twice. But she kept going no matter how long it took. I was so proud of her for not giving up. But I was even more proud that Big supported her and comforted her. She has such a big heard and is the kind of student the others look up to. You can’t ask for much more in a persona than that.

So, it’s Monday. It’s a new week. Tom Brady won another Super Bowl with Tampa Bay as a relatively “old guy”. Let’s bring the world back to center and rise up...let’s make it a great week!

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
Galatians 6:2 NIV

Day 326: Feeling a Little Frayed, Are We?

Fri, 05 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I chat every night with one of the dearest people in my life. Sue always has a supportive word, a kind thought, a golden nugget of wisdom to share with me. I didn’t grow up with a sister. One of my lifelong friends is my baby sister. Sue is the older sister I didn’t get to have and I love her dearly. I’ve been sharing with her of late....a bone weariness of the things that have been thrown at us for far too long.

I’ve gone through the grief of losing a spouse. I’ve gone through severe clinical depression and near death. I’ve gone through huge life changes that were cringeworthy in their own right. Now, I’m in a boat with a whole bunch of people...and we’re kinda hanging by a thread. Oh, we’re ok. We’re gonna make it through. We’re old enough and experienced enough to know...this too shall pass. But, man.....that constant surge of adrenalin and cortisol is getting pretty old.

Everyone handles stress in their own way. We all have different coping mechanisms. Some of us have more tools in our toolbox, simply because we’ve been through therapy to get us through crises. And, some of us have been blessed to have had a relatively easy life without huge upheaval. Getting out for a drive in the sunshine the other day was wonderful. Connecting with supportive friends is helpful. Having someone with me to share the day to day is a true blessing and it’s not lost on me how different things could have been if this would have happened say...six or seven years ago.

I have dear friends who are actively grieving tragic losses. To have to do that and cope with pandemic burnout seems unusually cruel and inhumane. One thing that has been giving me rays of hope is watching the “Christmas Covid Crush” begin to subside and the number of vaccinations going up. Slowly...ever so slowly. Nothing ever happens as fast as we would like it to, does it?

I find when I am at the end of my rope, there is decidedly less of the “ME” I need to get me through whatever I am facing. And I’ve faced enough crises to know...when there’s less “ME”, there’d better be more GOD because the alternative is a big black hole of despair. Oh, wouldn’t it be nice if God plucked us off the end there and set us down gently into a field of clover...by a nice stream, perhaps? But....noooooo...God ties a knot in that rope and helps me to hang on. He has the power to “fix things” for me. But, if He did that...what would I need HIM for? What would I learn from the experience?

Sue sends me articles from time to time. I found this one about “Hitting the Pandemic Wall” to be helpful so I thought I would share it with you today. There are some good ideas and links that you may use. But, I also thought I would ask you some questions.

What are you doing in your daily life to keep from feeling overwhelmed? Have any past experiences helped give you skills you can use during this crisis? I know it can’t just be me that’s feeling a little...strained.

In other words....really...

How are YOU doing?

““You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.”
Matthew 5:3 MSG

Day 311: Another Dawn...Another Day

Thu, 21 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Amanda Gorman, first-ever National Youth Poet Laureate

I had a very long day yesterday. Mr. FixIt left early to go to Sam’s during the time set aside for Prime Members...before the doors open to the general public. There were only three people in the whole warehouse. I elected not to go because I wanted to watch President Trump’s farewell speech at Andrews. It is not lost on me that many of you did not want to see him go and the day was sad for you. I feel for your sadness, disappointment, anger...because I’ve known the same. If this contentious election taught me anything, it’s the ability to put myself in someone else’s shoes and have empathy. It has also given me an opportunity to step back and look at politics through a different lens. Instead of standing so far apart, slinging stones and arrows...I recognize this is the process our country was built on. This is the reason there is not a monarchy or an autocracy. Our form of government was designed to take turns. The pendulum swings...wildly at times...but it always comes back in a different direction. I think, doing a job we can be proud of is a worthy goal for either side and working together for the greater good gives us ample opportunity for improvement. There has been an awful lot of divisive rhetoric over time that makes us see the worst in each other. I strive to do the opposite.

I think the most beautiful thing I saw yesterday in the entire day’s event was the reading of the inaugural poem by Amanda Gorman, America’s first-ever National Youth Poet Laureate. At the tender age of 22, this Harvard student...a descendant of slaves, the daughter of a single mom...spoke with intelligence, beauty, grace, and poise. Her slender hands painting the air as she sent her well chosen words into our hearts...a balm to heal broken places. The fact she stood on the very spot where such violence shook our nation just two weeks prior exemplified the stark contrast between darkness and light. I was mesmerized and want to share it here...not only as a record of the day, but as a testament to what I have always strived for in my own writing. That there is goodness in the world...even in the darkest of times. And, that we have far more in common than the differences that divide us. I always strive to be a uniting force. I’m not always successful...but it is in the trying that we find a worthy endeavor.

You can read the words of the Inaugural Poem here as well as view Ms. Gorman’s reading.

As the day wore on, and the more mundane events commenced, I gave in and took a little nap. I was freezing and climbed under the blankets, allowing their warmth to comfort me in the soft cocoon of slumber. Afterward, Mr. FixIt and I watched the news, then the first press briefing, then...the star-studded Inauguration Celebration they had in lieu of the traditional balls. Actually, I much preferred that. We can’t go to the balls...and who wants to watch other people dance? I loved having a program of inspiring music and the celebration of Americans...not just America. The story of the little girl with the virtual lemonade stand that raised $80,000 to help others. The little boy who overcame a stutter and read part of an Inaugural Speech. The words of encouragement and wisdom from prior presidents. It was generous and selfless, humble and kind. Inclusive.

Finally, when we were nearing the middle of the show, I took a break to make us a little sweet treat. As usual, I didn’t have a recipe in mind, but I knew I wanted warm muffins and a cup of tea. I searched around in the pantry, and this is what I came up with. Amounts are approximations, as I don’t really measure...I kinda eyeball it.

Flapjack Muffins

2c. Krusteaz Protein Buttermilk Pancake Mix
1c. Applesauce
1 large egg
1tsp ground cinnamon
Enough buttermilk to make a thick muffin batter

Mix together throughly by hand. Then fold in whatever little extras you want. I added a cup of a dried cranberry & pecan mix that I use as a topping for yoghurt or salad. I also added a cup of semisweet chocolate chips.

I have the really big muffin pans so this made five. It would have made six if you didn’t fill the cups as much. Bake for about 25 minutes at 350 till a toothpick comes out clean. I split them and buttered each half and ate them while still hot from the oven.

Warmth and goodness heals us from within. May we strive for moving closer to each other and heal with warmth and goodness...an maybe a nice muffin and a cup of tea.

“Love is more important than anything else. It is what ties everything completely together.”
Colossians 3:14 CEV

#Unity, #CommonGood, #MiddleGround

Day 281: Keep Calm and Bake On

Sun, 20 Dec 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Just before the bombings started in England in WWII, the Queen issued an edict that was produced on signs and posted everywhere to encourage the British citizenry.

“Keep Calm and Carry On”

After all, it is what the Brits were known for. Strength and calm in the face of adversity. They are a stoic lot with dry wit, fierce loyalty, and sturdy countenance...all attributes well to be admired and emulated by all.

As we march toward a Christmas unlike any other you and I have likely experienced, I find myself particularly emotional. I’ve always been one to cry at Kodak commercials. Show me the ones with a soldier coming home to his mom and I’m a puddle. A news story about a little boy with inoperable brain cancer delivering toys to the hospital chemo ward because their funding was cut after Covid struck? I’m a mess.

Babies being born.

People holding hands.

Children baking cookies.

Ahhhh...that last one gets me every time. After Mr. Virgo died, I was included in the family baking day at my son-in-law’s house and I felt a renewed hope after such a painful loss. After moving to West Virginia, I flew to Colorado at Christmas for a couple of years. Then it became increasingly expensive and the weather was dicey. I started spending more time in the summers to make up for it.

Still, Facebook floods my feed with memories of Christmas past and much of that includes Mr. Virgo...and baking cookies. And I find my heart hurting. I cannot tease out my memories of Mr. Virgo and discard them simply because I am happily married to a wonderful man. He is woven in there like a thread through the tapestry of my life. I miss my mom at Christmas. I miss my grandparents at Christmas. Why wouldn’t I also miss Mr. Virgo? It’s only natural that I would and does not take away from my love for Mr. FixIt in any way.

I’m missing the whole package of Colorado this year. I haven’t seen my western family since my daughter’s wedding in August 2019. Yesterday was their cookie baking day. Sue told me about it last week. So, I prepared myself for a day of baking yesterday so I could at least be doing the same thing they were doing, even though I’m many miles away. And my heart hurts. Pictures bring tears. A picture of my daughter removing a tray of cookies from the oven. My grandkids decorating cookies. Snow on the mountains. Setting up the new bird-feeder we got them for Christmas. My eyes have been leaking a lot this week.

Then, there are the good things here on the Ponderosa. The neighbors knocking on our door, bringing us cookies and taking a tin of ours along with them. The black cat playing in the snow and sitting on the windowsill, watching me bake. The smell of cookies fresh from the oven. The feel of sourdough as I turn it and set it to rise. The smell of the cold outdoors on my husband’s collar when he returns from errands. The lights on the tree in the grand window of the family room. The phone calls and Christmas cards. The family dropping by for quick visits out of doors to avoid close contact but still getting to see each other. The packages waiting to be wrapped for our West Virginia family.

It’s ok to feel happy and sad at the same time. This has been a long, hard year. Feeling our feelings is how we process through them. I think the hardest thing I’ve seen this year though, is watching our front line workers in the hospitals...reeling from the aftermath of people insisting on maintaining a normal Thanksgiving. The wave upon wave of illness is taking its told on our healthcare staff as well as our teachers and all essential workers. To see the news and hear of the expected travel for Christmas just breaks me.

I am foregoing my visits with my Colorado family...not only for my own safety, but for theirs and all the people I would contact between here and there. How hard can it be to make a sacrifice for others?

Yes...my heart hurts a lot lately. And this too shall pass.

“Christ encourages you, and his love comforts you. God's Spirit unites you, and you are concerned for others. Now make me completely happy! Live in harmony by showing love for each other. Be united in what you think, as if you were only one person. Don't be jealous or proud, but be humble and consider others more important than yourselves. Care about them as much as you care about yourselves and think the same way that Christ Jesus thought:”
Philippians 2:1-5 CEV

Day 239: Reflections 2016-2020

Sun, 08 Nov 2020 02:30:00 -0600

I debated with myself all day yesterday whether to even mention the election or not. I’ve been largely staying away from it over the last few weeks. I know I danced a little close to the fire a few times and I got a little singed around the edges because of it. That’s ok...I’ve got broad shoulders.

Without getting into any specifics, let me just say this...I know what it feels like to be on the short end of the stick and it doesn’t feel good. I raised my children with the caveat that character is shown not only in how you lose, but also in how you win. Gloating is impolite and does not build bridges with our opponents. Neither does petulance. There is a lot of heat and passion involved in this election, and it isn’t going to disappear overnight. But, hopefully, we can give each other the chance to listen with open hearts and minds, to build trust between us, and to work together toward a bright future.

I think the biggest positive I saw last night was the look of awe and pride from little girls of color sitting on their daddies’ shoulders. They wanted to get a better view of the woman who looked like them, standing on a stage in Delaware. Like it or not, a glass ceiling has been broken in this country and generations of little girls will grow up knowing they can work for any job they want.

I’m sharing my post from four years ago. It shows how I reacted when I felt the sting of disappointment. I have always tried to land on the side of compassion and understanding. I know the coming weeks and months may be difficult, but my prayer is we can learn to set aside our differences and grow together. Let’s make our mama’s proud.

[www.marshmallowranch.com/on-being-...](https://www.marshmallowranch.com/on-being-passionate/)

“Then someday, I will heal this place and my people as well, and let them enjoy unending peace.”
Jeremiah 33:6 CEV

Day 219: Coming Home to a Mystery!

Sun, 18 Oct 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Eleven and a half hours. Wow...what a drive! At least this time we didn’t have to drive through rain. It was a perfectly gorgeous day. The colors were a bit muted from the recent hard freeze, but the sky was clear and the air was crisp. When we crossed the Blue Ridge Mountains, I could see what looked like wildfire smoke in the distance. The further we went, and the lower the sun set, I became certain that was what I was seeing. I’ve seen enough wildfires in Colorado to know the difference between clouds and smoke.

When we got to Tamarack on the West Virginia Turnpike, we could actually smell the smoke. I checked online and there were no fires in West Virginia or the surrounding states. It had to be from Colorado! When we got home last night and I had time to check the government’s air monitoring website, there it was...clear as day. You can follow the plume of smoke in a straight line from Colorado to southern West Virginia where the sun was going down blood red. How eerie...and so sad...and scary. What is happening to our atmosphere from all these wildfires? I really have no idea.

We finally arrived home about 8:30pm...way past dark. The first thing we saw when we pulled in the drive was tire tracks through the grass alongside the house. We got out the high beam flashlight and followed the tracks all the way around the house and out the driveway on the other side. We checked all the doors. Not a thing was out of place. We looked at each other, baffled. Could we have driven around the house before we left and not remembered? We were trimming branches but that was the week before we left. These tracks had to have been made earlier in the day because the leaves were mashed down. We decided maybe it was time to put up those security cameras we’ve been talking about. But for the time being, there was plenty to get done and we got to work emptying the truck.

Later in the evening, one of the kids called to say they had come out to get firewood yesterday but they couldn’t find any. Mystery solved! I know it sounds odd, but we live out in the country and our “yard” is actually more of a field that surrounds our house. These people never think twice about driving on what you might think of as a lawn. Things are different in the country. We always parked in the yard at Grandma’s house.

Now comes the job of unpacking and putting everything away. NOT my favorite part of vacation. But, we are so grateful to have had time away spent with family and to be delivered back home all safe and sound. Thanks for coming along with me!

❤️

“You will be blessed when you come in and blessed when you go out.”
Deuteronomy 28:6 NIV

Day 150: Just an Old Granny Grump

Sat, 15 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

When my grandma got old and we’d ask her how she was doing, she’d say, “I’m just an old Granny Grump!” I have no idea how old “old” was to me at the time, and I surely didn’t grasp the full nuance of the term “Granny Grump”. But, I think I’m beginning to get it.

Ok...I’m not old, but I’m feeling like it lately. And I’m definitely feeling grumpy. Just ask my poor husband. It’s hard when you go on Facebook and you see your friends out doing things and you aren’t. It makes you wonder if maybe you’re being silly with all these Covid precautions. I mean, really...what harm could it do to hop on a plane or hook up the camper and drive across the country? I want to go camping. I want to go out to dinner. I want to go to Daytona Beach.

I want my life back.

I know. You do, too.

This isn’t easy. And getting ready to head into the winter months, feeling like this will never ever end can easily turn anyone into a Granny Grump. When we got home from town yesterday, I hopped on the mower and mowed the whole property. I can do a lot of thinking while I mow. I zipped past the camper and thought, “I could do it, you know. I could just pack that bad girl up and hit the open road and be in Colorado by the middle of next week!!!” Man, I miss my kids and grandkids and brother and friends. Mr. FixIt and I have been together more in the last 150 days than Mr. Virgo and I were in the entire seven years I knew him. I’ve never spent this much time with anyone and being the kind of person I am...I know full well I am much NICER when I have a little tiny bit of space to call my own.

Then I remember how awful it was when I found out what being really alone felt like. And I start feeling a little guilty about wanting some space. Because I know about grief and loss and aloneness. And...being careful what you wish for.

There is a difference between wanting to be alone and wanting a little space and time to recharge. Thank God, Mr. FixIt is pretty much back to being his healthy self. I still wouldn’t feel comfortable pulling the camper all the way to Colorado without him this summer, though. That’s too far away and not enough time has passed since the strokes. Then there’s the whole virus thing...so, here I am.

I’m just feeling a little stuck. And, I know I’m not the only one.

This is a tough time we are going through, considering everything that has happened this year. I am reminded of something I wrote about a long time ago. You can put an egg and a potato in boiling water. One will become hard. The other soft. The temperature of the water is the same, but what they turn into depends on what they are made of.

I will not let my present set of circumstances harden me.

This, too, shall pass.

❤️

“If you are a husband, you should be thoughtful of your wife. Treat her with honor, because she isn't as strong as you are, and she shares with you in the gift of life. Then nothing will stand in the way of your prayers.”
1 Peter 3:7 CEV

#JustSayin, #Grumpy, #Stuck

Day 145: Steadfast Through the Storms

Mon, 10 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Let’s face it...2020 has been a year of storms. Every single day, we see something incredulous...something unimaginable...something so unbelievable our minds can begin to be numbed by it all. I don’t even need to write out the list, but who in their right mind would have thought up murder hornets and zombie cicadas...let alone all the other stuff?

I was feeling a little overwhelmed by it all this last week. I found peace in my garden and on my walks with Jesus. Then I would look at the news again and it would be another awful thing. Balancing between informed citizen and sensory overload is getting more and more challenging. Then, Mr. FixIt and I sat down to enjoy online church yesterday. Like He always does, the Holy Spirit brought me exactly the sermon I needed to hear.

Pastor Heather spoke about weathering the storms of life. We are always guaranteed to have storms and more often than not, they come out of nowhere and we can be caught off guard. She happened to be on vacation last week with her family and there happened to be a hurricane come right through Myrtle Beach. She noticed the palm trees swaying in the fury of the winds, yet they were never uprooted or broken. It reminded her of the first few verses of Psalms.

Those who turn away from evil advice and don’t follow sinners or sneer at God find happiness in the teaching of the Lord, and they think about it day and night. It goes on to say they are like trees planted by a stream where they get their nourishment. This is what I want to be. A sturdy tree planted by the living waters where I can get my peace from the source. God tells us over and over the way to happiness.

When I first started writing this blog, I promised God if he would bring me the words, I would tell my readers where I find my peace. It is so terribly easy to be reactionary in this political climate. The other day I wrote a reactionary post that I not only didn’t give much thought to, but I also didn’t research it first. My sweet friend Jackie responded with a gentle correction. I so appreciated that. It didn’t escalate. It just suggested I “listen”. Action versus reaction.

A good lesson for us all.

❤️

“God blesses those people who refuse evil advice and won't follow sinners or join in sneering at God. Instead, they find happiness in the Teaching of the Lord, and they think about it day and night. They are like trees growing beside a stream, trees that produce fruit in season and always have leaves. Those people succeed in everything they do.”
Psalms 1:1-3 CEV

Day 142: Having Trouble Feeling Good?

Fri, 07 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

It’s “Feel Good Friday” and I don’t know about you, but...it could get pretty frustrating looking around this dark world for something to feel good about. I gave this week’s edition of FGF a good, hard look yesterday. I usually search the internet for some story or video that tells of some heart warming thing someone has done. That’s all well and good, but it wasn’t working for me yesterday. So, I do what I always do when I need a little inspiration. I went for a walk with Jesus.

First, we went out into the garden and looked at the abundance of tomatoes that are coming on. There’s zucchini and yellow crookneck squash, green onions and peppers, pumpkins and Passion Flowers. The honeysuckle clings to the fence along the back of the yard and brambles of wild black raspberries tangle in the corner over the rhubarb. Sumac and wild grape vines threaten to shade the garden as they compete with pokeweed and Virginia Creeper. I felt the stress in my shoulders begin to ease.

I gave the plants a good drink and took off for a walk around the far field. I saw a hole out there when I was mowing this week and I wanted to check it out. As I ambled across the fresh mown grass, I asked Jesus to give me something to feel good about. I let my mind go blank as I strolled and took in the sights and smells of the pasture. I let myself feel the gratitude for the beauty of this place Mr. FixIt has so generously shared with me. I started humming softly to myself.

“I’ll Fly Away” started drifting around in my mind. Not just any version either. It was the Stanley Brothers bluegrass gospel version. It was on their album “Good Old Camp Meeting Songs” and was recorded in May 1962...the month before I turned nine years old. In an instant, I was back in the front yard of Grandma’s house out at the farm, a quart jar in my hands, catching lightning bugs. Grandma and PopPop were inside with the Grand Ole Opry on...cranked up high...and Ralph and Carter Stanley were singing “I’ll Fly Away”.

My heart smiled.

A few years ago, I met a lovely young woman named Rachel. She plays the guitar and sings in her church and I had the pleasure of singing with her at a few gatherings when I was staying in my camper up at the river. We harmonized really well together and sang several of the old timey gospel hymns. It’s a precious memory I will always keep close.

I continued my walk and peeked at the progress on the neighboring property as they clear some ground. As I was coming back down the road, I saw Mr. FixIt out looking for me in the field. The cat keeps losing her breakaway collars and he was hoping to find the one he bought her yesterday. No luck.

I came in to write this, opened Facebook, and the first person I saw on my feed was...Rachel! My heart smiled big! I searched for, and listened to, some of Ralph Stanley’s great bluegrass gospel and found this album. So, this is today’s treat for “Feel Good Friday.” If this doesn’t make you feel good, I don’t know what will!

The Stanley Brothers - Good Old Camp Meeting Songs

Love you all. Take care of yourselves...and each other.

❤️

“speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Ephesians 5:19-20 NIV

#GospelMusic, #StanleyBrothers, #Hymns

Day 141: We Are All Different...Yet We Are One

Thu, 06 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

He’s been there since I took my first breath. My big brother. My “Bubby”. My first playmate. My first friend. We were in cahoots on many occasions...but I was always the instigator. He was special. Always gentle...always sweet. He didn’t run and play like the other kids so he was happy to sit on the floor with me for hours...rolling the ball back and forth...playing with cars...building with blocks.

Every week, we went to this special place to play for an hour or so. There was a table with four doors...one on each side. You opened the door, stood inside, and someone closed the door after you. Then you could play with the objects on the table. Sometimes they would bring us cookies and milk while we stood there. I think I always knew this was a place that helped my Bubby, but I never saw him as anything other than the perfect brother.

I will never forget driving up Murdoch Avenue one day. Bubby and I were sitting in the back seat and I could tell my mom was crying...though she tried very hard to hide it. When we got home, she asked us to go play and she went in her room for a while. Later, when she was tucking us into bed, I asked her what was wrong.

“Oh, Sis...I just got some news today that was upsetting to me.”

“What was it, Mommy? Are you sick?” One of our neighbors had something called “cancer” and I was very afraid my mommy would catch it. Daddy said she could.

“No, sweetheart. You’re a big girl now. I can tell you. They told me today that your Bubby has Cerebral Palsy. They said he may never be able to drive a car or get a good job. He may be crippled his whole life.”

I didn’t know what to say to my mom because my Bubby was the same he had always been. I was growing up, but I didn’t have a concept of what life might look like for my brother.

After that, I was always my brother’s champion. I protected him from neighborhood bullies. I was one of the only people who could understand what he said. I interpreted for him and ran interference...so well, in fact, that I had to learn to back off a little so he could learn how to do things for himself.

He went as far in “special school” as he could...8th grade. It took him 12 years, but he finally earned his GED. He was so proud. We were so proud for him. They sent him away for “vocational training” but he wasn’t very successful at any of the jobs they tried to teach him...mainly because Mom insisted he come home every weekend. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to succeed. She just wanted him to be home where she had control over what he did and saw.

He worked in the Sheltered Workshop for 25 years or so, and when Mom retired, she found it easier to just keep him home with her. He was good company for her. She devoted her entire life to him...taking care of his every need.

Then she died.

He came to Colorado to live near me because, by the Grace of God, he was accepted into a wonderful program for adults who are “differently abled.” When I had the opportunity to come to West Virginia to live, I offered to “bring him home” with me. But he wouldn’t hear of it. He told me he has a life in Colorado...a life he never would have had if he had stayed in West Virginia. As a matter of fact, he told me one time...if I hadn’t have brought him to Colorado, he would be in a nursing home. And that is the God’s truth. He would have. He now enjoys as independent a life as he can live. He has a roommate. They have support staff come in frequently to make sure they are taking their medicine, check on their finances, get them to medical appointments, take them shopping, help them with meal planning.

He loves his roommate. He told me once that he never had a best friend before, but his roommate is his best friend. That warms my heart more than you can know. To rest secure in knowing he will always be taken care of, that he is happy and as healthy as he can be, that he has a happy and fulfilling life...well, that is such a blessing to me.

My friend Jan shared this video on Facebook last night and I cried when I saw it. Just like I cry when I see someone who is differently abled and they succeed at something we so often take for granted. I know how hard it is to do “normal” things. I saw how much work my brother put into learning how to take care of himself, cook his meals, do his laundry, keep his room clean. To see these kids and young adults expressing themselves with joyous abandon...being exactly who they are...take me or leave me...just warmed the cockles of my heart.

I’m missing my big brother and all my Colorado peeps something awful right now. As of the 3rd, it’s been a full year since I’ve seen them and I’ve never gone that long. I do not feel it is safe, or fair, to go visit them now. I certainly would not want to make any of my loved ones ill....especially my brother. He has become much more frail the last few years and I must protect him from all this if I can. I pray there will be a time soon when we can see each other. Until then, we will have to be satisfied with phone calls.

You can see the video HERE.

❤️

“The Lord said to him, “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.””
Exodus 4:11-12 NIV

Day 131: Searching for Grace

Mon, 27 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

We have held church in our living room every Sunday since the lockdown began. Which means we have not attended services with our church family since the middle of February. It’s only been four months, but it seems like a lifetime ago. While I miss my peeps there, I’ve learned that church is not the building we attend. As a matter of fact, those ninety minutes a week we spend there is really such a small piece of who I am as a Christian. I have a supportive group of Christian women in my life. We keep each other in prayer and check in on one another, offering support wherever it is needed. One of my group recently found out she has Covid even though she followed the guidelines. Masks and hand washing are good deterrents, but they are not 100% effective. We know this. But, for now, they are the only bullet in the gun.

Our pastor preached a sermon yesterday on grace. Having grace for our people is normally pretty easy. We are all trying to get through and lift each other up as best we can. That’s the easy part. It is harder to find grace for those with whom we vehemently disagree. I am often torn. There are things I find more difficult to forgive than others. Then I remember...Jesus loves the sinner, hates the sin.

I have been searching for grace more and more lately. We are weary of this mess. We are weary of the news. We are sometimes frightened by what we see...things we have never seen before. Or...at least, not for a long, long time. Things we never thought we would have to deal with again. Things are changing...shifting...dying...growing...ending. This is the hardest part of change. When we can find something constant to focus on, we can rise above the chaos.

This will not last forever. It is grief. We are grieving the status quo. We are yearning for what once was. We are mourning the loss of the lives we knew...the comfort, the stability, the sameness. It is a collective grief we are all feeling to some extent or another. This is not easy. But, if there is anything losing Mr. Virgo taught me, it is that there really is nothing in the world we have real control over except our reactions to it.

Everyone...well, it seems everyone I know, anyway...has an opinion about what’s going on in the world. Politically, socially, economically, physically, mentally...and social media has brought out the worst in many of us. I am a work in progress, but I truly am trying to focus more on grace and less on my insatiable need to be “right.”

As I watch the news and scan Facebook, I send prayers up for those I disagree with. I try, sometimes unsuccessfully, to keep my mouth shut. I cannot tell you how many times I have typed out a very LONG rebuttal to someone’s angry statement, only to think better of it and erase it instead of hitting send.

I ask myself one very important question.

Which would I rather be...”right” or happy?

I try to emulate Jesus. I try to think of what He would do in each situation. And I’ve come to the conclusion that...sometimes we need to be the teacher. Sometimes we need to turn over the tables in the temple. And sometimes we need to go into the garden and pray. Praying for discernment to know which attribute to use at any given time is a full time job and I’m working it hard.

I’m not always successful, but I do give it my best shot.

❤️

“So whenever we are in need, we should come bravely before the throne of our merciful God. There we will be treated with undeserved grace, and we will find help.”
Hebrews 4:16 CEV

Hebrews 4:16 CEV

Day 105: Correcting Course

Tue, 30 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Ugh...yesterday was Monday.....ALL day. It was one of those days when nothing I touched worked right. I went out for a walk around the property before breakfast. The oats were done and Mr. FixIt couldn’t find me. I could hear him yelling that breakfast was ready, but he couldn’t hear me because the air conditioning unit was running. I walked up to the house, went in, and sat down at the bar in the kitchen. I thought maybe he had gone around front so I sat and waited. All of a sudden, I heard him yelling in the bedroom and scared me half to death. He was yelling out the bedroom window for me and I thought he’d fallen or something. Oy.

After breakfast, I made my sourdough starter and it just didn’t look quite right, but I went ahead and mixed up the dough. While it was raising, I got on the computer to do my banking. The internet went out. I got tech support on live chat. Well, ok...I was #3 in the queue. After more than two hours of futzing around with that, they had to schedule a technician to come visit. Oy, again.

I finally got the dough to a place where I could let it rise on its own and Mr. FixIt decided he wanted a hamburger for supper. I thought we would go to the little shop in our little town and get some burger. No...he wanted a real burger. We couldn’t decide where to get one so I took matters into my own hands and when we got there...thirty miles away...the joint was closed. Argh!

We went to Lowe’s and bought light bulbs for over the sink. They didn’t have the bright white...only the cool white. We got home and Mr. FixIt couldn’t work over his head and he knocked down my flying pig that hangs in the window. It broke and I was done. I climbed up on a stool and fixed both lights.

It was time to put the bread in to bake, and...I have no idea what I did wrong, but it was wet and soupy and wouldn’t hold together. There wasn’t anything else I could do with it. The starter wasn’t really strong and I was at the end of its fermentation, so there was no recovering it. I ended up dumping it in the trash. I’m sure I could have done something with it, but I didn’t have anything left in me to try.

I am very familiar with days like this...and I know what causes them. I have been so busy trying to keep everything up around here that I have slacked on in the one thing I know better than to slack off in. I haven’t been keeping up with my devotionals nor have I been spending enough time in the Word. I can always tell when I have veered off course. It’s like being in a row boat in a storm...with no oars and no rudder. I just get tossed about and all I want to do is cry.

So, I made an executive decision. I have an appointment in town today. One quick appointment and a stop for gas. Mr. FixIt has two appointments. He cannot come into mine. And I can’t go into his. We would have to sit in the truck and wait for the other in ninety degree heat. I have hardly had a moment to myself since February. I told Mr. FixIt I would go into my appointment on my own, and he can do his. He’s been doing a little driving here and there and his balance seems to be much better. I’m sure he’ll be fine.

Just knowing I can have some time to spend with God...all on my own...made my spirits pick up. I know I tell you all the time...”You cannot fill someone else’s cup if yours is empty.” But, it’s a whole lot easier to tell someone else than it is to follow my own advice!

I’ll just leave that long Monday alone now and learn from the lesson it taught me.

Peace, be still.

❤️

“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
Matthew 6:33-34 NIV

Day 87: Harry’s Garden

Fri, 12 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

In the middle of yet another busy day of appointments and trips to the pharmacy for yet another prescription, Mr. FixIt and I decided to go pay a visit to his good friend, Harry. Harry loves Atomic Fireballs. Addicted to them, really. So, every time we go to Sam’s, we get Harry a box of them. Harry doesn’t ask for much. He works hard. He lives a simple life. And...he’s a widower.

Harry lost Myrna a little over a year ago after a long struggle with cancer. She was his everything and we were worried for him. Mr. FixIt and Harry worked together for many years and they just bonded. They’ve bowled on the same team for decades. After being with me for the last three years, my sweetheart has a pretty good understanding of what it means to have your spouse die. I have to say...he touches my heart every time he reaches for those candies that Harry loves. Or, when he picks up the phone and says, as he is looking up the number, “I’d better check in on Harry and see how he’s doing.”

When we arrived, Harry came out with three lawn chairs and guided us to a cool shady spot alongside the modest house he shares with his son and two dogs. We caught up with each other’s latest news. He just got back from a visit with his young grandchildren...twins that Myrna was crazy over. The two men discussed the woes of broken down machinery when they compared lawn tractor sagas. Then Harry lit up.

“You wanna come see the garden?”

We walked around the corner of the house and there was this beautiful garden spread out before us. It was enough to make me catch my breath. Row after row of onions, lettuce, carrots, beets, beans, corn, tomatoes, and pumpkins...all neatly tended in a soft, sandy soil. Nothing like the dense, wet clay we have to deal with. Harry doesn’t live all that far from the Ohio River. His garden was once part of the riverbed.

He grabbed a couple grocery bags and stuffed them with onions and lettuce. I’ll make a wilted lettuce salad this evening. For those of you unfamiliar with the glories of wilted lettuce...you start with lots of well washed leaf lettuce, add some sliced green onions and set aside. Fry up some bacon. Crumble the bacon on top of the salad. When the bacon grease cools enough that it won’t spatter, add a little sugar, salt and pepper stirring well till the sugar dissolves then add a good splash of apple cider vinegar. Heat it up and stir to get all the crispy bacon bits off the pan, then pour over the salad and toss well. Eat it right away so that it’s wilted, but not soggy. Ohhhhh, heavenly days! This was the only “salad” I knew growing up and it brings happy memories every time I eat it.

We finally had to say our goodbyes and thanked Harry profusely for the fresh produce. As we drove home, I reached over and held my sweet husband’s hand. He is a good man with a kind heart and I am so proud of the kind of friend he is. He warms my heart.

❤️

“not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.”
Philippians 2:4 NIV

Day 79: Taking a Look in the Mirror

Wed, 03 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

When I was growing up in the mid to late ‘50s, the Civil Rights Movement was gaining speed. One of my first friends in grade school was a little black girl named Lisa. Lisa went on to become a pastor and actually performed our marriage ceremony out in our field when Mr. FixIt and I got married.

My aunt that recently passed away was a Head Start teacher in Washington, DC in the ‘50s. She showed me photographs that had the words “Colored” and “Whites” over the drinking fountains in the school where she taught. I couldn’t understand what they were talking about. My grandma sat me down and told me under no uncertain terms was I to EVER treat anyone differently because of the color of their skin. Therefore...all these many years...I’ve thought I was not racist.

One of the many things I learned from therapy was how to take a good hard look at myself and own/change my less-than-stellar character traits. Back in the mid to late ‘70s I was a single mom. I went out to a bar one night with some friends and a handsome black man showed interest in me and I demurred. I had a young daughter at home, and I was not nearly as enlightened as I thought I was. And I felt ashamed by that. Would I have had a problem with one of my daughters marrying a person of color? Not at all. But back when this happened, I was a young woman...still wet behind the ears...and frankly afraid.

I’ve said things like “All Lives Matter” and “I’m colorblind”. But now? I will forever hear “I can’t breathe” in my mind...echoing over and over. We watched a lynching on video. How can I not be changed by that? I want to be MORE than “not racist”. I want to be “anti-racist”. And to do that, I have to educate myself to the real everyday existence of people of color. I can’t turn a blind eye and not say anything. I have to wake up and learn and do whatever is in my power to make the changes that need to come to fulfill what the Bible tells us to do.

The Golden Rule has to be the base upon which all reparations are made to those who have been disenfranchised because of the amount of melanin that is in their skin. It’s only right.

I cannot condone violence and looting and killings. But I will support peaceful protests and I vow to educate myself to their plight.

I found this article to be a good starting point.

❤️

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.”
Matthew 7:12 NIV

Day 66: Every Day is Groundhog Day

Thu, 21 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Did you see that movie...Groundhog Day? I don’t think I ever did, but I know the premise. Each day repeats itself over and over and over. Sound familiar? There is nothing good about having a stroke. Nothing. But...it has added a new dimension of things to do in a day. Some things you never thought about doing. Others are just added tasks and stops and appointments.

Yesterday, we were coming back home from town. Mr. FixIt had his first Physical Therapy appointment and it went well. We ran some errands in town and as we got to the turnoff for our road, he reminded me to check the mail. I insisted we already did that on our way into town. He insisted we hadn’t. He was right. I was remembering the day before.

Each day runs into the next and starts over again. We need a vacation from what seems like an interminable working vacation. Lots of things have changed. By this time of year, we usually have two beach trips under our belts and planning the third. Not this year. Something kept us home in the winter. If we hadn’t been nudged to stay home, we would have been in Florida when Mr. FixIt had his first stroke. Then covid hit and we’ve been stuck. Now...stroke #2.

I know going to the beach would do my sweetheart a world of good, but right now we need to figure out what’s causing these strokes so we can nip it in the bud and get on with our fun plans. In the meantime, I have another batch of sourdough bread rising. I’m preparing a batch of yoghurt. And I have blueberries to attend to. Maybe another pie?

I’m looking at this as another opportunity to depend on God for my needs. All this fun stuff in the kitchen hones my skills, brings good and bountiful food to our larder, and feeds my country heart. It forces me to take a breath, remember what’s important, stop stressing over things in which I have no control. When I reach into the bowl to knead dough wrought from my hands, I say a simple, “Hello, Jesus...let’s spend some time together today while we work this bread.”

When I get close and personal with Jesus, He reminds me to be patient with my sweetheart. Yes, this affects me...but it’s HIS body that isn’t acting like it’s supposed to and that has to be scary. Jesus reminds me I’m not in control here. He tells me not to worry...He has this under control. He encourages me to lean into Him when I’m frightened and He’ll carry me through it all. Just knead this dough right now. This is all you need to concern yourself with in this moment.

This one moment.

There will always be...something. Something that dares to steal your focus. That threatens to take what’s yours. That shakes you to your core and turns your world upside down. When it’s happening to you, it’s easy to think you’re the only one in the world feeling this. But there are countless others feeling these feelings right now. ESPECIALLY now. The thing I have learned from all of these experiences is this...you can steal everything I have. But, you cannot take my joy...my love...and my faith.

These things are forever mine...a gift from a gracious Father.

❤️

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”
James 1:17 ESV

Day 58: Staying Afloat

Wed, 13 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

One of the biggest challenges the coronavirus has presented me is keeping my mouth shut when I read things that are diametrically opposite to my own beliefs. Opinions, theories, assumptions, disinformation, half-truths, and flat out lies occupy the space where my friends and I have met to visit every day since 2009. It’s like throwing a lovely garden party and your crazy uncle drops in. You want to be nice, but he’s ruining your fun. How do you make him leave without hurting his feelings?

I’ve been really busy on my social media pages. I’ve discovered the joys of the drop down menu up there on the right hand corner of every post. I give consideration to the post. I check the reference source. I balance it against my beliefs. I consider who posted it. Then I make a choice.

Engage.
Scroll by.
Hide post.
Report post.
Snooze the person posting for 30 days.
Unfollow.
Unfriend.

There have been very few that I have unfriended right away, but a couple have managed to win that trophy immediately. I just want my fun space back. I want to talk with my peeps.

I saw this meme on a friend’s page yesterday and it struck me how true it is. We don’t have control over anything outside ourselves. All we can do is control our response. I have to remind myself of this when I do something so ill-advised as try to hold a sincere conversation with someone whose agenda is to stir up trouble. I know better...I just get tired. We’re all getting tired. I just have to remind myself to walk away from the computer more often.

I’ve started leaving my phone in another room for much of the day. I check early to see if my post link works and respond to you all. I check my email, the weather, the news. I answer texts. I read my devotionals. Then I get up and keep busy and work on projects. After lunch, I check in again before I spend my afternoon reading or working on something quietly...preferably out in the camper. Watch the news. Fix supper. Spend some time with Mr. FixIt. Then I write my post. Distancing from my electronic devices isn’t easy for me. I love them. But they don’t always serve me well. This meme is a good reminder.

I pulled out my soymilk maker yesterday and cleaned it up. The user manual is long gone, but through the wonders of the internet, I found it online. I soaked soybeans overnight so this morning I’ll make some soymilk. If I have enough, I’ll make a batch of tofu. If not, I’ll flavor it with a little vanilla and sweetener and have some delicious soymilk for cereal and drinking. It’s been a very long time since I’ve made tofu. It will take a while to work the kinks out and remember how it’s done.

Today is mow-at-the-farm day. I can’t wait...the rhododendron should be blooming soon!

❤️

“To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
Romans 12:20-21 ESV

Day 55: A Different Kind of Mother’s Day!

Sun, 10 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

As I sat at my keyboard last night, I looked for pictures of my mom and thought of all the Mother’s Days we had together. Really...very few. Once I left home to seek my fortunes, I am not sure we ever got to see each other on Mother’s Day. I always came home in the summer months when the kids were off of school. But I always called her and sent her a card and flowers.

I keep my pictures of Mom in an album on my iPad marked “”Family”. That way, when I get lonesome for them, they’re all in one place. I thought of all the sad and sentimental things I could say about my mom and how much I miss her. But, the truth is...even though I miss her desperately right now...I would NEVER want her to have had to experience what’s going on in the world. All the anger and divisiveness and ugliness would have upset her greatly. She had such a tender heart. And this virus would have worried her to death. I am much more peaceful knowing she is with her family and with Jesus.

My eyes scanned the photos and lingered on my own children...from when they were littles to when they had littles of their own. These girls made me a mom. I wasn’t always very good at it. I made huge mistakes and it broke my heart that I let them down. So many years were lost to depression when I just couldn’t seem to connect with them as they needed. I’ve spent much of the last twenty years trying to fix that. Trying to be a better mom. Trying to create new and better memories.

Since I moved back to my home state, I have returned to Colorado every summer to see the girls and spend time with my grandchildren. Then, the pandemic hit and I am not at all sure I’ll get to go back this year. There was a time when I would have focused on that loss and that’s all I’d see. Things are different now. Now I see where God is taking this situation and turning it for good.

My girls and I have communicated more since the Stay at Home orders came out than we ever have. There are lots of phone calls and texts, sharing pictures, video chats. When I watch their Facebook feeds, I see them reaching back for THEIR comforting touchstones and I see myself there. In the raised bed gardens. In the baking and making and growing. In the phone calls asking for advice. It has warmed my heart.

In the last two months, during this lockdown, I have finally realized...I made a difference in my kids’ lives. The things I taught them, stuck with them. And now, they are using those gifts I gave them to comfort themselves and their families. This means more to me than any trinket they could give me. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Mr. FixIt told me last night he didn’t get me anything for Mother’s Day because shopping isn’t the same. And I told him not to buy me flowers. I smiled and said, “I have everything I need for Mother’s Day. I have a great big blended family that gives me great joy.” Besides, I’d rather have kitchen stuff than flowers that wither and die.

I hope you have a wonderful Mother’s Day. And if you are actively grieving, I hope you find some moments of peace and comfort with your memories of your loved one.

❤️

“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.””
Proverbs 31:25-29 ESV

#MothersDay, #Children, #Holiday

Day 30: Cognitive Dissonance and My World View

Wed, 15 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

It’s a fine line we walk these days.

Since we’ve been on the topic of mental health, we might as well broach one of the biggest crazy-makers there is. Cognitive Dissonance. I am not an expert, but I have a general understanding of this psychological concept. And it’s something that actually hurts my brain.

It takes all kinds to make the world go ‘round. If we were all alike it would be a pretty boring world. There was a time in the not so distant past that people disagreed with each other...usually in politics or religion...and could still practice civil discourse without going off the rails in a temper tantrum. There was a time when civility and grace was a valued character trait.

For me, Cognitive Dissonance shows up when I look at the world today versus, say...when Mr. Virgo died seven years ago. My long held world view does not match the view of the world I see today. It’s like I woke up in some George Orwell novel or something. Or a twisted version of Oz where the Wizard is an even bigger monster behind the curtain.

I’m not necessarily referring to party politics here, but the general state of humanity. This warp in my vision is highly disconcerting and makes me feel uncomfortable. But, it doesn’t make me pull a nutty and go off on perfect strangers via social media. It doesn’t make me scream obscenities at others because our views clash.

I can experience this level of discomfort and form a resolve to do what I can to help change the world. At the same time, I have to recognize there are others who are just as uncomfortable with my views as I am of theirs. It’s time to separate the wheat from the chaff. We have an opportunity here in the midst of the pandemic to come together with a little grace and poise and acceptance of our differences. We can...we MUST work together for the common good or we are lost.

I own a square foot of this world. It’s the place where I stand. It is from my square foot plot that I can build my platform. It is from my platform that I can serve others. It is in serving others that I find grace within. It is grace that will be perceived as kindness. It is kindness that demonstrates love. And, it is love that is the very foundation of life.

May we all stand firmly on our square foot of ground and bring love and peace to the world. May this period spent in time out not be for nuthin’.

❤️

“I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
Ephesians 4:1-3 ESV

Day 27: An Easter We’ll Never Forget

Sun, 12 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

This is an Easter we’ll not likely forget.

I was ten years old when JFK was assassinated and I remember every detail of that day...and the days and weeks after. That event changed my life by taking away the innocent idea that everything is good in the world. Martin Luther King. Bobby Kennedy. The Challenger explosion. 9/11. All monumentally bad things that happened and changed the world in an instant.

Life went on after each one, but I’ll bet most of us remember where we were and what we were doing when they happened. The thing the past can teach us is...things change. Things can be really bad. But they’ll be ok again. Albeit a different kind of ok...but ok nonetheless.

I look back over the Easters in my life. There were a lot of them that didn’t hold any meaning to me other than the Easter Bunny bringing candy and colorful eggs to my kids...even when we were living a Jewish life. Because, in my house, it was ME making the choice to become Jewish and you don’t take Santa and the Easter Bunny away from a five year old.

The Easters that had meaning to me during my childhood were when we went to Grandma’s little white church on the hill. We came back to her house and had a big supper and pigged out on candy. I remember one particular Easter, my paternal grandmother baked me a bunny cake that was so clever. And someone made my grandma a sugar egg that you could peek inside and see the Easter Bunny delivering eggs.

Before Mr. Virgo died, we went to Mass for Easter but he always had to work the holidays, so again...not so memorable.

It wasn’t till after Mr. Virgo died that I truly started to feel the true meaning of Easter. Good Friday is so somber and solemn and sad. Then Easter bursts forth with Joy at the first rays of morning light. Ever since I found my church home, I have enjoyed Easter Services with my church family and this time it’s different. We have to listen to our pastor online like the majority of others. It’s not the same as being there, but it’s still corporate prayer.

Easter has never changed. Whether we are in a building or not...THAT is not the church. WE are the church. Wherever two or more of you are gathered in His Name...there is love. If you are isolated and alone during this time...remember, you have the Holy Spirit dwelling within you so you are never truly alone. That was one of the biggest comforts to me when I became a widow.

Yes...this is an Easter we will never forget. It’s a story we will share till the day we die. Things may seem dismal in the world. But Jesus overcame the world. It in with Him that I find my deepest Joy...even in the darkest of moments.

May you all have a Blessed Easter. May you connect with loved ones on this day. And, may you find the peace that surpasses all understanding.

He is Risen!

❤️?❤️

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance.”
John 20:1 NIV

Day 13: Say His Name...Not in Vain

Sun, 29 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Sometimes a verse suddenly takes on new meaning.

I was reading my devotional yesterday morning. I have to admit, I haven’t been as focused on my Bible reading as I should be as my attention is being drawn in every different direction. Now, more than at any other time...NOW is the most important time to sit with God and have those deep conversations that can bring such peace to a weary heart. So, I’m trying harder to corral my wandering ADD spirit and rein it back in.

Yesterday’s devotion focused on Exodus 20:7...

“You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.”
Exodus 20:7 ESV

If your grandma was like my grandma, you remember what happened if the exclamation “Oh, my God!” slipped out. You might have found yourself with a sliver of soap in your mouth or a swat on the behind...or worse, the shame of disappointing your favorite champion.

As I got older and thought I was oh-so-wise, I drifted away from that fuddy-duddy old church because I thought I knew better than they did. I was crude and crass and ugly in many, many ways. And OMG slipped out as easily as far too many other epithets. My ears burn when I think of the things my children heard coming out of my mouth. Eventually, I woke up and got it together. But I still relate Exodus 20:7 to using the Lord’s name to swear. That is, until I read my devotional yesterday morning.

Isn’t it wonderful when you read a verse you’ve read a hundred times and it suddenly means something completely different?

The premise is this:

When we become a Christian, we take on God’s name and wear it as our identity. If we do not “walk the talk”, our behavior doesn’t reflect what we are proclaiming with our mouths. In this way, we take the name of the Lord in vain because we aren’t being honest...with Him, with each other, and with ourselves. I found that to be an interesting perspective and thought I would share it with you today.

Church is still online. I read something the other day that said this time of working remotely may change the way we do business in the future. We used to think going to the office was the best way. But maybe it isn’t. Maybe if more people can work remotely, pollution can be cut down which would positively impact our environment. I don’t know about teaching at home...especially for young children. Learning socialization skills is just as important as math and spelling.

One thing that won’t be replaced is gathering together in places of worship. I’ve enjoyed hearing my pastor online, but it just cannot replace the community bond of corporate worship. We will continue to learn and grow and evaluate what changes we can make in our way of life that will better the world. There will always be resistance to change, but change can be for our own as well as the greater good.

❤️

“Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults.”
Psalms 19:12 ESV

How a National Emergency has Changed our Lives

Tue, 17 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

May we never take things for granted.

Day One:

Slept in.

Read Bible Study, E-mails, FB, and checked blog.

Checked the weather and news online.

Had coffee and breakfast with Mr. FixIt.

Watched two game shows.

Ran to town to get milk & stuff for burgers for dinner. (Hardly anyone in the store. Well stocked.)

Drove to mechanic to check on my truck and get my gun case to bring home.

Got money out of ATM.

Visited with granddaughter and greatgrands.

Took the stitches out of the cat and let her run.

Ate a snack.

Took a nap.

Fixed supper.

Watched The Voice.

Retired to bedroom to write blog.

In other words...the national emergency didn’t change much of anything. Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t have visited with the kids, but they haven’t been anywhere but home because she’s a stay-at-home mom with two babies. At this point though...we have no plans for any kind of gathering...large or small.

After much discussion, we decided to cancel Girl Camper Camper College this weekend. None of us wanted to, but it was the prudent thing to do. We will gather later when things settle back down.

My shout out today is to the grocery store workers. When there were crazed crowds fighting over bundles of toilet paper, the workers kept their cool and plugged right along. Even when they were being yelled at for something that is FAR above their pay grade. I’ve seen videos of people fighting over toilet paper and seen customers screaming at grocery clerks and telling them they hope they die from coronavirus.

Here’s something I have learned from years of therapy. There is a very fine line between anger and fear. People jump into herd mentality, their fear begins to amp, they fight for what they perceive they need...in this case toilet paper. Their reptilian brain is telling them they have to be the alpha dog if they’re going to survive. So they grab the rolls of TP from the little old lady and shove it in their already over-filled cart. Angry. Spit flying. Over toilet paper.

That kind of anger comes from fear. I’ve seen it over and over in my time. Fear comes from being out of control and ill prepared.

I talked to the kids yesterday. I shared what a wonderful opportunity this is to do something amazing that can change the world. This couldn’t have come at a better time. We were beginning to forget what it was really like to be a good human.

Let’s do that...let’s be good humans.

And remember how sweet it feels when we get to do that first thing we didn’t get to do for a while.

May we learn to appreciate what we have.

❤️

“Let the elders who rule well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching.”
1 Timothy 5:17 ESV

My Love/Hate/Love Relationship with Valentine’s Day

Fri, 14 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Remember the Valentine’s Boxes we made in school? They were such a sign of innocent hope.

I remember so vividly carrying that old shoe box to school. It still smelled of my dad’s leather dress shoes and shoe polish. I carefully covered that box with red construction paper...glueing it down with that gosh awful school paste that smelled earthy and damp. (Admit it...you tasted it at least once, didn’t you?) It was so thick and wet it made the construction paper lump up and curl but I kept pressing it and flattening it with my little girl fingers.

A valentine box was a symbol of pure hope. Wishful thinking. My mom took me to the store and I carefully perused the shelves till I found the perfect box. We made absolutely certain there were enough cards so everyone would get one. Then, I took my No. 2 pencil and the list of my classmate’s names, and carefully wrote “To:” and their name then “From:” and my name...in cursive. Then I put each card in an envelope, sealed it with a little heart sticker and again wrote the person’s name on the front. It took a long time.

When the big day came, we took our little lunch sacks with the valentines in them and dropped them in the appropriate personalized boxes. Some were elaborately decorated with lacy paper doilies and red foil hearts. Others had scribbled flowers and X’s and O’s and “Happy Valentine’s Day” on them. When we were finished distributing our cards, we were invited to take our boxes back to our seats. I will never ever forget that one teacher who actually had us COUNT our valentines out and the child who got the most got a chocolate bar.

It was the very first time I realized there were differences between us.

Up till then, we were all just classmates. We had little groups and some got chosen and some didn’t but eventually EVERYONE got a chance...didn’t they? Well...apparently not. In that moment, when the pretty little blond girl proudly walked up to get her chocolate bar, 22 pairs of little eyes bore daggers in her back as she waltzed forward. I was inwardly devastated. As much for the others who didn’t get a candy bar as I was for myself. And...I was disillusioned. I had just witnessed unfairness in the world firsthand and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

From then on, I had a Love/Hate relationship with Valentine’s Day. I could not help myself...I counted every one. I was painfully aware my number was lower and I used that as a yardstick to measure where I stood in the social hierarchy. Eventually, I grew up. I embraced the day with a great sense of relief when we no longer made the Valentine Boxes. We no longer “voted for the most popular kid” with little heart-shaped ballots. That was all done in other, ever so much more sophisticated ways as we got older.

I didn’t have enough Valentine’s Days with Hubby #1 to remember and it was so, so long ago. I do remember too many unobserved holidays and events with Hubby #2 because he was too busy to get me something. Those things stung...not because I couldn’t understand why. After all, he was in medical school and residency and practice and he really WAS busy. No, those things stung because of unhealed and unforgiven injuries to my inner little girl and he just added to the pile of hurts. It was simply another thing to discuss and resolve in therapy...small potatoes comparatively.

When Mr. Virgo arrived, he came with the gushy cards and the cakes and candies and always, always flowers....usually a beautiful orchid so it would last longer. He was intuitive and surprisingly skilled at healing my wounded psyche with sweet words on brightly colored paper. I remember a year or so after he died and I was downsizing, I came across a sticky note on which he’d written “Happy Valentine’s Day, Baby Doll!” I still have that somewhere, along with all the gushy cards. When he died, I knew it was the end of the line for the hearts and flowers of Valentine’s Day.

Then...miracle of miracles...along came Mr. FixIt. A man who obviously takes his time in the greeting card aisle, choosing the perfect sentiment. Flowers in hand. A warm hug. A gift from God. My heart soars.

I know how blessed I am. I remember the pain. I remember the devastation of loss. I remember hating the day because it just emphasized what I no longer had. I wanted to slap the happy people. And now, I am keenly aware there are no promises of another tomorrow. However, we do have today. Life is an intricate, delicate dance we practice every day. Sometimes we step on each other’s toes. Other times...we tango.

❤️

“And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.””
mark 11:25 NIV

Creating Angels and Finding Compassion

Fri, 07 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Always seek human kindness...no matter what. It’s out there.

The other day on Facebook, my dear friend whom I’ve never met...Uma Girish...posted about CONTROL. She spoke about how we struggle and manipulate and force ourselves and others and justify it to ourselves with statements like “I’m just trying to look out for everyone.” Or “If I don’t do it, no one will.”

Uma posits there is a better way. To trust the universe (in which I substitute the name of God and from this point on...I am paraphrasing her words to meet my faith) to manage your life. The energy that creates worlds knows how to handle your world.

He is not pushy, God. He will not force His way into your life. He waits...ever so patiently...for you to take your hands off and say, “Please, take over.” He waits for you to let go.

When you lean back, God has permission to lean in and unleash his magic.

Where do you need some help in letting go?

This was my response...

“I have found myself criticizing my sweet husband. We married late in life and it’s hard for me to remember he and I do things differently at times. I am practicing leaning back and learning from him instead of forcing my will on him in an endless, nonproductive power struggle. I pray on this a lot. My husband’s light shines brighter when I don’t try to be the sun.”

“My husband’s light shines brighter when I don’t try to be the sun.”
Ginny McKinney

This is so true in any relationship...well, in any interaction, really. You needn’t travel far to see and feel derision in what used to be civil discourse in society. We have reached a new low where we have lost the empathy to see the humanity in others who believe differently than us. Somewhere, somehow, we have gone off the rails and dismissed those with drastically different views as subhuman.

I stumbled across this TED talk last night as I prayed through the ether to “bring me the words”. God always delivers when I let go and ask for His help. This talk was given by a young man who has been the subject of bullying because he is gay. As he was reading the hurtful, ugly comments directed at him, he began to click on the profiles of the bullies and looked at them as humans. Humans who were taught different values than him. Then he did something extraordinary.

He reached out and called some of them...those whom he felt safe talking to. And they had conversations. He started every conversation with “Why did you write that?” Along the way, he learned much about the other person. He saw some of their own hurts and how those hurts had formed opinions and shaped their worlds.

As the young man states, “Empathy isn’t endorsement”. It doesn’t mean you are going to pick up the banner of the other and abdicate your own set of values. But what it DOES do is this...it lets you see the humanity in each other and that is something sorely lacking in this Era of Anger.

Right after his video, another began. A lovely British woman “of a certain age” spoke about marriage and how the hurts of the past can drive us in the present. I loved what she had to say about words...how they can heal...how they can kill. This is what we have been studying in “I Declare War” by Levi Lusko in small group from church.

Words. We can create angels with them.

We’ve hidden behind screens and that has given a false sense of bravado. It has dropped our shield of kindness and empathy. It has unplugged the filter that keeps us from being our best selves. This is nowhere more evident than in the political arena today...on either side. And if this is the example we are setting for future generations, I cannot see that it will improve in any way.

CONTROL. Everyone wants it. Truly...only God can ultimately wield it. Letting go of the illusion of control and seeking kindness, goodness, empathy, love, hope, joy is the only way to live a life that is not driven by toxic stress. When I tune into the wrong speaker, my stress level shoots through the roof. When I search for the information I need to know and leave the rest and take action based on my beliefs, I take the power away from the angry pitchman and put it back into God’s hands where it belongs. And this is what lifts me back up.

I can ill afford to nap away this nightmare. I have to strike a balance between informed citizen and running off screaming into the night. It’s not easy finding that balance, but peace of mind...every little bit I can find...is the only way to preserve my mental health in this day and age.

And now...since this is “Feel Good Friday”, I want to share this video with you.

This demonstrates pure compassion and fills me with hope. Hope. Because, dear ones.....please, please believe me when I tell you....

There is SUCH goodness in the world. Please, don’t forget that. Please don’t let the media make you think there is not. Just go out and look for it...and build on it. Nurture it and let it grow.

❤️

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”
Ephesians 4:32 NIV

Amazing Grace...How Sweet the Sound

Wed, 22 Jan 2020 02:30:00 -0600

“God’s Grace comes in many ways.”

The sweet refrain of this blessed hymn of my youth trickled into my consciousness as I absorbed the words from one of my most special people. She is friend...she is family. She is example...she is mentor. She is confidante...she is touchstone. And now...after months of chemotherapy...she is cancer free!

I burst into tears with the news. I hadn’t realized how hard I was praying for a miracle. I hadn’t realized how much I had been holding my breath.

“I’m cancer free.”

Those are three little words everyone who has gone through this hell lives to hear. God...there are far too many who don’t get to hear them.

I couldn’t be with her to help her as she went through these last months. She had plenty of family support. Her medical care was exceptional. When she was first diagnosed, I asked what I could do for her.

“Just text me and tell me your stories. Give me something to think about other than what I’m going through.”

So, almost without fail (I can count on one hand how many nights we missed), we met for our evening chats. I told her about my camping trips. I told her about the new babies in the family. We talked about her treatments and how she was feeling but once that was out of the way, out came the stories and pictures....the fall colors, the Christmas tree, the progress on the bathroom.

I went online and searched “Amazing Grace” and this song popped up, sung by Joan Baez. She was driving down the road one day and heard this song on the radio. She pulled over to listen because she knew she needed to record it. “The President Sang Amazing Grace” was written by singer/songwriter Zoe Mulford. She was so moved by President Obama’s eulogy at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, that she wrote the poignant lyrics that captured a nation’s shock and grief of such a senseless act. Even though the circumstances are vastly, vastly different...God’s Grace is the same.

There are so many prayers that need to be prayed in this world. And...there are so many praises that need to be sung.

“I’m cancer free.”

Thank you, Jesus!

Amazing Grace.

You can hear Joan Baez sing “The President Sang Amazing Grace” here.

❤️

“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.”
John 1:16 ESV

Seeking Comfort in an Uncomfortable World

Tue, 31 Dec 2019 02:30:00 -0600

“Travel brings me comfort in an uncomfortable world.”

Well, dear ones...this is it. The last day of the year. The last day of a decade. And oh...what a time it has been. At the beginning of it, I was happily married to Mr. Virgo...living in Denver and not much liking that part, except for being in close proximity to my children. Not that I got to see them much. I was very focused on my husband and didn’t see past the end of my nose. A major regret.

Three years into this decade, my life stopped when Mr. Virgo died unexpectedly...and I set out to create a new life with a new me. I sold the only home I had ever owned on my own. I made some bad decisions...but I’ve also made some good ones. I’ve driven tens of thousands of miles. I settled into and lived in the home of my heart on a beautiful farm that’s been in my family for nearly ninety years.

I’ve connected with some really wonderful people, and reconnected with people I’ve known for a lifetime. I’ve written hundreds of thousands of words as I poured out my grief and my heart and my love into the ether sphere. I married a man I initially set eyes on when I was six years old.

I gained people. And...I lost people I loved dearly.

I totaled a truck and escaped with nothing worse than a small brain bleed that left me struggling to remember things for a couple of years, which filled me with fear. This last year, things finally started to fire on all cylinders in my poor noggin and I feel more like myself than I have in a very long time.

I’ve aged a hundred years in some ways. I’ve gotten much younger in others.

I got a cat. Well...she got me.

I gained a huge extended family and I’m now not only a grandma....I am a GREAT grandma to two little ones with a third one due any day now. I am a GiGi, to be exact. A Mom and a mother-in-law and a Nana and a GiGi. A sister and a friend and a wife. How cool is that?

I went to Church Sunday night and Pastor Justin asked us to think about who we were before we were saved. In that moment, I realized THAT’S what has been hovering in the back of my mind as I contemplate the end of this decade. Because it was the beginning of the previous decade when my life very nearly came to an end.

I let myself cry as the music wafted over me, the Holy Spirit covering...filling me with his Love. My life has moments of demarcation with lines in the sand marking the points between “before” and “after”. The overdose. My mom’s death. Finding Jesus. Meeting, then losing, Mr. Virgo.

Finding ME.

Finding love again.

Marrying a wonderful man.

All while traveling. I get bored being in the same place too long. I need to seek new horizons from time to time. I need to get away and “blow off some stink” every once in a while. I need to recharge...away from everyone and everything I know. I need to go where no one knows me and rest in the anonymity that comes with the unfamiliar.

I get uncomfortable when I become too comfortable. When things start to get too predictable, I need to shake things up. I tried to count how many houses and apartments I’ve lived in during my lifetime and I lost track. I crave change. Thank goodness I’m married to a very understanding man. It makes me easier to live with, I think.

I don’t usually travel like I did this year...not since I was on the road with the camper after Mr. Virgo died. It was different this time. It was harder to be away from my sweetheart. Partly because I genuinely love being with him and partly because I’m older now and I have intimate experience with loss. Things have changed. There’s more to lose now. I’m not sure how much I’ll travel in the coming year...but I’m sure it won’t be quite like 2019.

We’re heading out tonight for a family bowling party to ring in the New Year. I can’t remember the last time I bowled. I can’t remember the last time I was out past 10:00! I have to remind myself...I’m only 66. There will be plenty of time to lay down when I’m dead and gone, right?

Maybe I can take a nap before we go.

Happy New Year, my dear ones! If you are struggling, may 2020 bring you peace, prosperity, and good health. You are so loved.

Thank you. Truly...thank you for being here all these years. I am eternally grateful for the connections I have made through this page.

Be blessed!

Ginny

❤️

“Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth. Sing to the Lord, praise his name; proclaim his salvation day after day. Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.”

Psalms 96:1-3 NIV

“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

Psalms 90:12 NIV

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.”

Proverbs 16:9 NIV

It Was a White Christmas...Somewhere!

Thu, 26 Dec 2019 02:30:00 -0600

It wasn’t a White Christmas in West Virginia this year. And, honestly? That’s just fine with me. The “romance” of a White Christmas left me a long time ago when I lived in Colorado. The winter after Mr. Vigo died saw that snow shovel with just one name on it...mine! And I was none too happy about it, trust me. Still...if it only snowed once...at Christmas and then left, I’d be perfectly happy with that.

As I was perusing Facebook yesterday, a friend of mine who lived not far from me in my old neighborhood posted a photo she took from her Christmas walk with the dogs. It shows the arch over the entrance to Highland Cemetery where Mr. Virgo is buried. And there was snow! Now, THAT made me smile. Because Mr. Virgo LOVED the snow. The fact that he had a White Christmas made my heart warm.

We had a very quiet Christmas...just the two of us. Well, three...there’s little Pumpkin Kitty now. She and I snuggled for a few minutes on the couch this morning but she was happy to go back out and chase things outside. We had a pancake breakfast. Mr. FixIt baked the BEST peanut butter cookies with the Hershey’s Kisses on top. ***swoon*** I ate far too many of them! I baked a homemade chicken pot pie for supper. We watched Christmas movies and took naps and spoke to family on the phone. The weather was unseasonably warm in the high 50’s. It was a really nice day.

Our WV family Christmas is tomorrow night so today I start baking pies and cleaning house. When that is all done, I’d like to spend a little time over at the farm to end the year. I hope you all had a memorable holiday. If you were missing someone this year, my heart is with you. I know how difficult the holidays are when you are grieving. This was the seventh Christmas since Mr. Virgo died...and the sixteenth since my mom died...and I struggled a little more with this holiday season than the last couple. You just feel your feelings and move forward as best you can.

Today is Boxing Day in England as well as several other countries with original ties to Great Britain. This is the day when service people receive tips for jobs well done throughout the year. In some countries, like South Africa, vendors who do jobs for people actually come knocking on doors asking for a “Christmas Box”...a small monetary gratuity for services rendered. It is also a bank holiday and is the perfect excuse for extending Christmas as well as acknowledging folks who give us good service.

❤️

““A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.””

John 13:34-35 NIV

Bucket Lists & Miracles & Making Memories

Sun, 08 Dec 2019 02:30:31 -0600

“When being Santa is on your bucket list…”

This is the time of year where Christmas is around every corner. The twinkling lights and bustling shops, the carols and the wonderful aromas wafting from the kitchen…they all bring up memories. And, while there is a plethora of “warm-fuzzy” memories, there are also sad painful memories that show up with the turn of the calendar and the darkening of the days.

Christmas was Mr. Virgo’s very favorite holiday. When he worked at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen, he was asked to play Santa one year. You would have thought he was stepping on stage at the Met. He was thrilled…not only to play the role, but to grow out his beard. You often are not allowed to have facial hair when you work in Food & Beverage. This was a treat, all the way around. I know what joy that brought him.

One of my high school friends brought us some devastating news a while back. Her sweet brother, Ed Lowe, was diagnosed with cancer. When they did an in depth work up, they found out it had spread through his body. Ed is a pastor, and he knows where he will go when it is his time. He’s taking advantage of every treatment option and covets the prayers of anyone who will pray for a miracle with him.

With his typical optimism, Ed has set out to work on his bucket list. With Christmas fast approaching, he put his wish out there….to be Santa in our hometown Christmas Parade! Phone calls were made and before you knew it, Ed was being fitted for his Santa suit and got to ride down Market Street on a float…waving and smiling and throwing candy to the children lining the parade route.

These are the happy/sad stories we read about this time of year. This is a memory that will be cherished by so many people, no matter what the outcome of Ed’s health scare may be. I’m telling you this story because I love my friend, Janet. I love her fierce devotion to her brother. And, I am asking you to do something for us. Whenever you see Santa in the coming weeks, please send up a prayer for a special man of God who wants his own Christmas Miracle. Please pray for Ed Lowe…and all the others who need miracles, as well.

?❤️????❤️?

“Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.”
Jeremiah 17:14 NIV

When Kindness Matters Most

Sat, 30 Nov 2019 02:30:32 -0600

“Kindness Matters Most…especially when it involves children.”

My dear friend Diane sent me a link to an article in the New York Times yesterday. It was a story about the new mayor of Charleston and how she barked up the wrong tree. It seems, in an effort to be inclusive and considerate of the Muslim and Jewish population in our state’s capital, she decided to rename the Christmas Parade. She announced on a Facebook post that the Winter Parade would be on such and such a date…and thus began a civil uprising. Well, maybe uncivil is a more appropriate description.

I understand what she was trying to do. And I appreciate it. Having lived 27 years as a practicing Jew in a small town and watching discrimination at work was an eye opening experience for me. It gave me a much deeper appreciation for what some people go through on a daily basis in this world.

The mayor was attacked from all sides and had very few backers. Part of it was the way she went about it…making a unilateral decision without consulting anyone. But the biggest part was the way the world is now. I could have been a mediator by profession because I can easily see both sides of this issue. People were feeling attacked and that, in the spirit of political correctness, they felt the mayor was trying to steal Christmas. When, in actuality, she was just trying to be kind to everyone in the community.

As I read the comments to the story, several of them were from minorities saying they never felt they were “less than” or “excluded” because of Christmas celebrations. While they didn’t observe the holiday themselves, they never felt threatened by other people celebrating. I remember talking to a Rabbi once and asked him what he would do regarding my children’s participation in these programs. He said “Lip synch the words to the religious songs and belt out the secular ones. There is a lot of beautiful music in the Christian faith. I think it’s very important that we don’t try to dilute anyone’s holiday.” That made a lot of sense to me.

This story brings to mind something that happened to me when I lived in that small mountain town in Colorado. Hubby #2 was a new physician and we had only lived in town a few years. One Christmas, a couple of things came to a head that are very similar to what happened in Charleston this month.

First, the wife of one of my husband’s colleagues was Jewish and she had two sons in the public grade school. There was no mention in the curriculum of any holidays besides Christian ones. She wanted the children to have a greater world view and asked if she could form an ad hoc committee to explore how to go about broadening the horizons without stepping on anyone’s toes. Even though my younger daughter was only a baby at the time, I knew she would be going to the same school in a few years so I said yes when I was asked to join.

We held meetings with the school board. We offered to provide children’s books for the school library with stories about Chanukah and Passover. We volunteered to come into the classes during story time and share traditional foods of other cultures. And, we asked that the school program in December be renamed the Winter Festival. That’s where we ran into road blocks and it got ugly…fast. Our mayor hung a banner across the Main Street through town claiming that “The heathens are trying to steal Christmas from our children! Don’t let that happen!” Those were the exact words. Heathens.

In the historical context, the word heathen means “an individual or a people that do not acknowledge the God of the Bible; a person who is neither a Jew, Christian, nor Muslim; a pagan.” We certainly were NOT heathens and it was a blatant slur…not the least of the discriminatory experiences I encountered in my years as a member of the Jewish community.

Our little mountain town was formed by a large ranching and mining community. There were two black children, a handful of Hispanic children, and no Asians the year my daughter started 7th grade. We had relocated there from Denver where my daughter was in a tri-lingual classroom…English, Spanish, and Vietnamese. Her school was a cross section of humanity and she was dumbfounded by the “white bread” community she found herself living in. Every holiday, a large cross was lit on the top of a mountain within view of the whole town, reminding everyone that that “we celebrate Christmas in this town.”

At the same time the banner went up across the Main Street and the cross was lit on the hill, we found out that the cross was on city property and the electricity was being paid for with tax money. This is where I had a problem. I can educate. I can buy books and bake cookies till the cows come home, but there is a separation of church and state in this country and the founding fathers made it that way on purpose. I believe in honoring that and if I would have been Christian at the time, I still would have believed in that.

Then, things shifted in town. It turns out the ACLU got wind of the situation and put the town on notice they would be taken to court if they didn’t make other arrangements for the cross on the hill. A citizen donated a piece of land up higher than the original location, and a new and larger cross was erected. Every year, a collection takes place to pay for the electricity and upkeep of the cross. I was thrilled with that because it was not only even more beautiful than before, it now complied with the law.

As time went on, some things in town got better, but there was still an undercurrent of anti-Semitism. When Daughter #2, who was just a baby when this all went down, was in high school, she was bullied and called a “stupid, effing Jew” among other derogatory comments. I went to the administration but the bullying continued and we finally determined she would be happier at the alternative high school.

She is doing well now. She is 29 and married. But she carries the emotional scars from her experiences. This is why I am sensitive to all people. This is why I don’t want the little Jehovah’s Witness children to have to sit in the cafeteria, ostracized by their peers because of their beliefs. I want the little Jewish children to be included in the holiday extravaganza because they have a holiday to celebrate, too. I don’t want any child to feel left out.

I don’t know what the answer is for you. All I know is, I personally know what discrimination feels like. And I know what it feels like to hold your child in your arms when she’s been crushed by bullies. Therefore, I say “Happy Holidays” if I am not sure of the person’s beliefs. I don’t care if someone says Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas to me. I am not insulted. Why would I be? It’s a blessing when someone wishes you well. I’ll take that any day of the week over some of the terrible things people feel free to say to each other these days. Because…kindness matters.

❤️

#KindnessMatters, #Discrimination, #HappyHolidays

“For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But whoever does not have them is nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed from their past sins.”
2 Peter 1:5-9 NIV

Tuesday Truth: When You CAN...Step Away

Tue, 26 Nov 2019 02:30:07 -0600

“It’s OK to step away!”

Do you have trouble stepping away from toxic relationships? Do you find you are people pleasing yourself into a corner? Are you feeling pressed into doing traditional holiday things even though you would rather not? Or maybe you just can’t face your ____________ (insert relative/friend here) this year…or ANY year? Well, I’m going to do something here…pay very close attention.

Step away.

If you need “permission” then, here…I’m giving you permission.

Holidays can be especially difficult if you’re grieving. Or if you have underlying health issues. Or, you know…if you happen to be human. If you are over the age of consent, holidays can be much more painful than they are pleasurable.

For the last month, I’ve been really looking forward to going over to my cousin’s house for Thanksgiving. I don’t get to see her nearly often enough and this year it was for a very brief visit last month. I love to go and stay over a couple of days, but circumstances change. There are health issues with some of the older generation over there. Last year we left here early Thanksgiving morning, drove over, discovered my aunt had fallen and she and my uncle couldn’t attend dinner, so Mr. FixIt and I packed up a dinner for them and drove it to his house. This added another hour of driving…each way. Then, after our Thanksgiving meal back at my cousin’s house, we got in the tuck and drove home. It made for a very long day and was not relaxing nor fun even though it was great to see everyone.

When I returned on Halloween from the six week camping excursion with the rpod and discovered we had a new kitten, everything changed. Now there are no more impromptu trips and I am not up for a drive-by. I took the self-care approach and opted out. Now we can work hard to finish the back bathroom this week and get the sink, toilet, and shower stall out of our living room in time for our family gathering on Sunday.

Sometimes it’s a sibling. Or an aging parent. You may feel guilty for stepping away, but as I tell you so often, you cannot fill someone else with an empty cup. WE are no good to anyone, including ourselves, if we continue putting ourselves in situations that are toxic and abusive.

I know, I know…there are times when you may be the only one that person has. There may be situations where you are a caregiver and there IS no other option. If you feel stuck…it’s ok to look for options. It’s ok to step away and take care of yourself. It’s ok to stay home and eat a hotdog for Thanksgiving if that will give you more peace. Surround yourself with the people who love you and lift you up and celebrate you if that’s what you want to do. But…give yourself permission to stay home if you need to. It’s ok.

❤️

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV

Motivation Monday: Kindness Matters!

Mon, 25 Nov 2019 02:30:55 -0600

“Just be kind because…kindness matters!”

I miss Mr. Rogers. I want to go see the Tom Hanks movie while it’s in the theater because I need a giant dose of his goodness. I wonder what he would think of our “neighborhood” now? After a week of watching grown a$$ men on national television acting like petulant two years olds (and I’m not choosing sides here…there was all kinds of nasty all the way around)…kindness seems to have left the building.

But has it really gone away completely? Or is it just buried somewhere below the fold because, like sex, all forms of violence sells much more than kindness? I comb the news everyday for the feel-good stories….for the tales of heroes and shining stars. They’re out there…but man, you sure have to look hard for them.

Let’s look at some inspiring stories that happened this month. After a scheduling snafu at a Waffle House in Birmingham, Alabama left a young man all alone to man the entire restaurant, kind customers noticed what was happening and jumped in to do everything from wash dishes to wait tables and deliver food. No one made a big deal about it. They just got up and helped…no questions asked.

The manager of a New York Bagel shop got a frantic call from a customer. She left her car keys on the counter of the bagel shop. She had left her car running while she ran in to pick up her order and didn’t miss the keys till she was at her destination several hours away. At that point, she was unable to start her car. The shop manager jumped in his car, took the keys to the customer in Pennsylvania, then turned right around and drove back so he could open the store the next morning.

A man with no kids of his own paid off the lunch debt for every child in nine Florida schools.

A boss paid off his employee’s mortgage so the Vietnam vet could retire.

A hospital in Pittsburgh knitted little cardigans and dressed every baby like Mr. Rogers for World Kindness Day.

There are kind people out there. Please don’t let the nastiness we see color the way we see everyone. One of the most important things I learned from the hearings last week is this…Russia is very, very busy sowing seeds of discord in our country. They want neighbor to turn against neighbor. They are the ones sitting back in glee, watching our country self destruct.

I say we fight back. I say we stand up and say enough is enough. When I wasn’t spending every day at the farm anymore, I walked around the perimeter of the property with my grandma’s Bible and proclaimed to the enemy that he had no dominion there to protect the home and property. We can do the same thing for our homes, our cars, our property, our neighborhoods. We can proclaim our boundaries. We can reclaim our lives. We can salvage kindness, and it may not be easy.

Look for the helpers. Ask for discernment and watch out for the insidious encroachment of evil in our midst. Stop reacting to everything and ask yourself, “Is this information true? Where/who is it coming from?” I know you can’t put smoke back in a bottle, but we can sure try to raise the kindness titer in this world by spreading it in our own sphere of influence. There IS good…you just have to change your focus and look for it.

❤️

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,”
Galatians 5:22 NIV

Drum Roll, Please...I’m a Girl Camper Guide!

Fri, 22 Nov 2019 02:30:14 -0600

“The Three Girl Camper Amigas…Ginny, Gail, and Janine!”

You’ve heard me refer to a “big project” I’ve been involved with over the last year and the time has come for the big reveal. It all started when my dear friends, Janine Pettit and Gail Bable, were having an impromptu “slumber party”. Janine was driving cross country and called to say she was headed to Gail’s in Ohio to spend the night. I was the same distance away on the opposite side so I threw some things in a bag, kissed Mr. FixIt on the forehead and off I went.

After supper, we were sitting around drinking tea and knitting when Janine said she had something she wanted to talk to us about. She had a vision for Girl Camper…the website that accompanies her Podcast. She told us all about it and we started throwing ideas around. It’s been a lot of work and a whole lot of fun over the last year and now all the work has paid off!

I am now wearing even MORE hats!

There is an all new Girl Camper website! It has so many new features. You can listen to Podcasts. You can read Girl Camper Stories. There is a section called Girl Camper Wisdom and another that features Experts. We have a new Food Editor…Kate Dunbar, the Campground Gourmet! And…Janine is introducing “Girl Camper Guides”. Each state on the map colored red has a Guide. Gail and I are sharing Ohio and West Virginia. Gail writes from her vast experience as a lifelong camper, mother of ten, and camp host extraordinaire! I am writing for Girl Camper Moments. We will have camping and educational events and Meet and Greets in the coming year. And…I am the RPod Ambassador for the Annual Girl Camper Charity Raffle!

We are so excited!

You can browse the site at: www.girlcamper.com

You can visit the Ohio-West Virginia page at: www.girlcamper.com/ohio-west-va

Browse around and see what you think! Leave a comment! Sign up for the newsletter! Listen to Podcasts! It’s a lot of fun…whether you camp or not. In the meantime, I’ll still be here…sharing my daily thoughts with you all.

Thank you all for all of your amazing support!

❤️

“Now this is our boast: Our conscience testifies that we have conducted ourselves in the world, and especially in our relations with you, with integrity and godly sincerity. We have done so, relying not on worldly wisdom but on God’s grace.”
2 Corinthians 1:12 NIV

Date Night at Rural King

Fri, 15 Nov 2019 02:30:39 -0600

“What a beautiful night for a date at Rural King…my favorite farm store!”

A couple of days ago, Mr. FixIt needed to go into town to get a special drill bit. He’s back to working on our master bath! We have to fit in home jobs when the grass isn’t growing and he’s finished with all the outside jobs he does. When the weather turned cold, I came in off the road from my camping tour and we set to doing the things around here that have been put on hold.

The big outside job Mr. FixIt has been working on is the huge covered front porch he built on the front of his ex-wife’s house. One of my bonus granddaughters told me there are people who don’t understand how I’m ok with that. Well, first off…she’s paying him, so it’s a job. But, beyond that, why on earth would I, or SHOULD I be upset by that?

She is the mother of his children. They share grandchildren and great grandchildren. She’s a wonderful person and I just love her. Our granddaughter told the person she was talking to that she thinks it’s awesome that we all get along and talk to each other. It makes it so much easier for the family if they aren’t being torn by split loyalties. Couples may divorce. But you don’t divorce your family. And as far as I’m concerned, we are all family.

Anyway, he’s finished with all but just a little touch up over there and that has to wait till spring for good weather. And now we’re focused on getting things done at home. That prompted the trip to town. He asked if I wanted to ride along with him. Listen, this man knows me. He didn’t have to ask twice to get me to go to Rural King and Lowe’s.

I love home improvement stores and farm stores. I needed to get a heated water dish for the kitten just to make sure she always has fresh water available. Rural King has them…AND free popcorn! As we came out of the store, the entire sky was bright pink all the way around us. It was like being inside a big pink bubble. I love the sunsets at this time of year. They seem to be so vibrant. After the fun stops, we went to our favorite pizza place…Pete’s Pizza. Honestly…the best pizza I think I have ever had comes out of this little family owned restaurant in Mineral Wells, WV.

I went to the farm yesterday to make sure all is well. I unplugged the pump in case the gas should go off and a pipe should freeze and burst. Wouldn’t want to flood the basement and burn out the pump. This cold spell has kept the Asian Lady Beetles at bay and I only swept up about a half a cup of them this time. I still haven’t been brave enough to go upstairs to look.

When I went into the cellar house to unplug the pump, I saw there was a lot of white, hairy mold growing on the wood of the old potato bin. The cellar house is no longer water tight so it’s always damp in there. Next summer, when we have a dry spell, we need to open up that door and air it out. I also need to spray the mold with a bleach solution, I think. I will do some research on that. It isn’t the black mold that is so toxic. Maybe I’ll take the dehumidifier from the bathroom and put it out there for the winter. That would solve two problems. First, it would decrease the humidity. But a dehumidifier also puts off a fair amount of heat…enough to keep the pipes on the pump from freezing when we get a REALLY cold snap.

When you live in the country, and you have an endless list of chores that need doing, you have to find your date nights where you can get them. Mr. FixIt is a lucky man…I like hardware, power tools…and pizza!

❤️

“The Lord will send a blessing on your barns and on everything you put your hand to. The Lord your God will bless you in the land he is giving you.”
Deuteronomy 28:8 NIV

Walking Among The Headstones

Sun, 10 Nov 2019 02:30:51 -0600

“Walking among the dead, speaking their names.”

I’ve always been drawn to old cemeteries. The headstones that are crooked and worn, the names fading away with time till someday…no one knows who the departed was nor to whom they were dear. There is always a note of sadness in that. I’ve had people say as long as you continue to speak of him and keep him in your heart, he’s still with you. Yes…and no. HIs memory is always and forever with me. He is not. He is gone…never to return. The finality struck me deeply in the second year of my grief journey when I was no longer numb and couldn’t pretend anymore.

What happens to these old headstones and the people they hover over? When no one ever speaks the names because they are gone from the memory of those who came after? In my genealogy research, I visited the graves of my great great grandparents. But I didn’t know them. I had never met them. The only thing I knew were maybe a couple of stories and a glimpse of what they looked like in a grainy photograph of a photograph. My children, grandchildren, great grandchildren? What will they know of them if I don’t tell them or write it down.

That is one of the ripple effects of this blog. What started out as my way of walking through a very dark valley has turned, not only into a chronicle of my life and travels, but that of the generations before me. I hope someday that my great great grandchildren will read the words I’ve set down here and see the photographs I’ve posted. I want them to know and understand their roots. I want them to know ME. Then maybe, when the letters have faded from my own headstone, they’ll have a part of me that still lives on. A legacy, as it were.

It is a Jewish tradition to place a small stone on a headstone you have visited. That way, when others come, they know someone has been there to honor their loved one. I remember the first time I went to visit Mr. Virgo’s grave after someone left something there for him. It was a pack of his favorite cigarettes. I’ve found new stones in the circle surrounding his grave as well as the occasional golf ball or coin. It’s good to know others remember him. His family have largely cut all contact with me, so I have no idea if they ever come to visit him. They all live out of state, so I doubt it seriously.

I only go to Colorado once a year now. I always visit the cemetery as many times as I can. I clean up his grave and replace the stones in the circle. I always leave something to mark when I’ve visited. This past summer, I noticed how grown up the cemetery was because of the heavy spring rains. Yet, Mr. Virgo’s grave was weeded and neat as a pin. I stopped the groundskeeper my last visit of the trip and thanked him. When I moved away in 2014, I pressed a crisp $100 bill in his hand and implored him to look after the grave as I wouldn’t be there regularly anymore. With tears in his eyes, he swore he would. And he has.

The cemetery in this photo is in Twin Falls State Park here in West Virginia. What struck me first was the markers. There were the typical headstones…these with hand carved names indicating the poverty and remoteness of the region and the times. There were also stones at the foot of the grave. This gave a true visual of how many of these graves were occupied by children. The closer these stones were together, the younger the child. Well over half the graves were those of young children. Primitive rural healthcare, rampant infectious diseases, and poverty all contributed to high mortality in children prior to the twentieth century. I found several instances in my own genealogy research where families lost multiple children within days of each other.

I don’t know that visiting graves is something that interests the younger generations. I was raised going. We even had picnics in the cemetery on Decoration Day where my paternal ancestors are buried. I took my kids, but I don’t know that they will continue that with their own children. Maybe when they are older and feel their own mortality creeping in. We all seem to change our priorities as we approach the finish line, don’t we?

❤️

““Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?””
1 Corinthians 15:55 NIV

Premonitions and Pioneers

Wed, 30 Oct 2019 01:30:07 -0600

‘Visiting a Pioneer Farm is a step back in time.”

Yesterday was a strange day from the get go. I woke up at 3:30 in the morning knowing something wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. After determining I hadn’t eaten anything that would cause such a feeling, I got up, wrapped my camp jacket around me and stepped outside to look at the stars. The sky was crystal clear and the stars looked so close you could just reach up and touch them. I stood there for awhile in my bare feet letting the energy from the earth seep up through my body. When I was sufficiently chilled, literally and figuratively, I went back to bed. But I couldn’t get back to sleep until dawn.

I finally woke up at around 10:00…absolutely unheard of for me these days. I’m usually awake with the chickens. I stumbled around, did my morning toilette, then dressed and cleaned the camper. Finally around 11:30, I packed up my writing implements and headed for the lodge and good WiFi. I created a movie of the best photos I’d taken on this WV tour and wrote till about 3:00 in the afternoon.

I headed to the Pioneer Farm that’s on the back of the park property. This farm was abandoned for a long time, but people were always vandalizing it so now there is a farmer and his family living here. There was no one home when I was there so I wandered around taking pictures and marveling at its timeless beauty. I sat for a while and watched two horses and a donkey browse on the sparse grass in the meadow and felt more peaceful than I had most of the day.

On my way back to the campground, I stopped at the Nature Center and introduced myself to the Naturalist. Tammy is a cat bird. She has a coal country drawl that put me in mind of the Deep South but she assured me she was born and raised within a stone’s throw of the park. She apologized that she had recently let all the critters go. She normally traps possums and raccoons, tags them, and keeps them in the Nature Center for a few weeks to teach people about them. Then she sends them back off into the wild to track their whereabouts and traps another one to tag.

Tammy wasn’t originally hired to be a Park Naturalist. She was supposed to be a campground attendant. She doesn’t have a degree in biology, but she has a knack for nature…two and four legged. She was taking campers for nature hikes when the Park Administrators saw they had a gem in Tammy and told her she should apply for the Naturalist position. And the rest is history. She was a delight to talk with. She smiled as I left and called after me…”Put me in your book!” You bet I will, Tammy!

As I was pulling back into the campground, it happened. There was a low grinding noise coming from my truck and I knew that is where my uneasiness was coming from. Something hasn’t been quite right with the truck for a couple of days but I just couldn’t discern exactly what was troubling me. A sound, maybe? A smell, perhaps? Whatever it was, I kept shifting it to the back of my mind…yet still monitored the situation.

When I heard that noise, I knew there was something mechanically wrong with the truck. And that puts me in an uncomfortable position. First, I am here alone. There are two other campers in all of the campground and I am grateful for them. But they aren’t going to help me in this situation. I do not like being in a situation I cannot get out of quickly. It stems from being trapped in a garage as a young child and sexually assaulted. To say I have control issues is putting it mildly.

I went into the camper and made myself sit down and think. What I wanted to do was hook up the camper and get out of here, but of course…that wasn’t the right thing to do. I texted Mr. FixIt but I knew he was working and his phone would be in the truck. Then I texted my besties, Janine and Gail, and asked them to pray that I would calm down and everything would work out. Within minutes I felt much better and realized this whole thing is an adventure and an educational opportunity, so why not make the most of it!

Mr. FixIt called me a few hours later and he’s going to drive down this morning. He’ll check out my truck. We can tow the camper with his truck. And, either he’ll follow me to a mechanic or we’ll have the truck towed. That’s what I have AAA Plus for. We’ll go home tomorrow. I am so grateful for my friends who pray for me. And I am exceedingly grateful for a wonderful husband who takes good care of me. Wouldn’t you know it would happen at the last park on the last day? But I’m exactly where I should be. I have everything I need right here and I can get some work done while I wait. Thank God I wasn’t pulling the camper up the side of the mountain with no cell service!

❤️

“And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 4:19 NIV

Welcome to my Living Room!

Tue, 29 Oct 2019 01:30:00 -0600

“The camper is the kitchen, bath, and bedroom…the great outdoors is where I live!”

I got to my new campsite in the middle of the afternoon. The mountains I drove over yesterday weren’t anything like the ones last week but man, the road up into the campground here at the park is really, really steep! This truck did a great job pulling the r-pod in these West Virginia hills. When I arrived at my site, I was amazed to have this entire mountaintop to myself! I didn’t have any concerns about that, but I was pleased to see two more couples come into the campground with trailers.

It’s quiet as a church mouse up here. I heard some owls just after dark and a coal train. And the squirrels were in the hickory trees all around me all afternoon. I opened the awning and set up my chair outside and enjoyed the 75° temps and the warm sunshine. A few weeks ago, I purchased an adapter for my tripod so I could use the iPad as a camera. I got it out and played with it for awhile. I had a blast setting the timer for 10 seconds then running to see if I could get in the picture in time!

I wanted to tell you about what happened yesterday. I always sit in my truck before I pull out and pray for travel mercies. I list off all the things I’m going to be talking with Him about as I drive. Then I pray the Prayer of Jabez and ask Him to send me whoever He needs me to talk with that day. I hadn’t driven a hundred feet when I came around a corner and there was a whole crowd of folks my age sitting around a campfire. I stopped and rolled down my window.

“You kids look like you’re having entirely too much fun!”

“Oh, we are!!!” Everyone turned around and smiled and waved. We made some small talk and one of the gals asked if I was traveling alone. I told her all about Girl Campers and how I’m taking this camper around for a few months and we are raffling it off. One thing led to another and the subject of my writing came up. When I told them my writing is faith based and that I even have a Sunday Evening Prayer Circle, one woman came over and took my hand and asked if I would pray for her granddaughter who is sick with ulcerative colitis. I opened my blog and added her name to the prayer list. Before I left them, I took their hands and prayed with them…right there in the campground. God is so good…I asked, He delivered. Immediately! I know it happens so often, I shouldn’t be amazed. But I am always in awe at that.

I’m in the home stretch of the West Virginia tour now. Just one, maybe two more nights and I’ll be back at the Ponderosa for a few days. It’s been such an amazing trip and I’ve seen some beautiful places. I’m looking forward to heading south next week. If you all have any recommendations for campgrounds or state parks in Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina, and South Carolina…I’d love to hear them!

❤️

“Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I gave birth to him in pain.” Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request.”
1 Chronicles 4:9-10 NIV

Between the Trees

Sun, 27 Oct 2019 01:30:43 -0600

“Sitting by the river is soothing to the soul.”

Being a writer is a wonderful thing. I can get lost in a blank page, creating worlds from my thoughts. It’s like magic…making something from nothing. I pray over my keyboard. I ask God to bring me words to say and people who need them. I am humbled when someone reaches out and tells me how my words have encouraged them or helped to ease the pain of their particular loss. I am quick to tell them…it is not me. I am merely the transcriptionist.

When I pray the Prayer of Jabez, I ask for God to give me those Blessings with my name on them. I ask Him to expand my territory and to walk with His hand over me to keep evil far from me so that I may not feel/cause pain. I love when He brings people to me. It happens daily and I am so blessed by His generosity.

As I sat yesterday in the r-pod, working on a writing project, I noticed the camper next door had turned their outdoor speakers up and were playing loud music. Not over-the-top loud…just annoying because it was disturbing my flow. I stopped and looked at the clock. Just after noon. I had been working straight through since breakfast. I sighed and closed my iPad.

Should I go say something to the people? Should I give them a stern look as I pass by? Should I report them to the park office? I sat and prayed for discernment and wisdom. As I washed up the breakfast dishes, I looked out and there were two children…maybe ‘tweens…carving pumpkins! They didn’t have their noses glued to an electronic device. They were camping with their family and doing fun, creative things in the outdoors.

I smiled as I dried my hands. Just WHO is the one with her nose glued to an electronic device? Oh, yes…that would be ME! I laughed as I looked up and said, “Ok, ok…I get the hint!” After taking a look around the camper to make sure things were unplugged and safe to leave, I donned my jacket and headed to the Fall Harvest Festival.

I watched a chainsaw artist carve a bear out of a log. I sat and listened to some live Bluegrass music. I went to the river and sat in a chair and read for an hour. I put my book away and just breathed in the smells of the day. The aroma of good food from the lodge kitchen. The smell of wet leaves and swift river water. The earthy smell of wool as the sun warmed my sweater. I closed my eyes and listened to children throwing rocks in the river and an elderly couple chatting softly as they walked slowly by…their feet shuffling through the leaves.

I thanked God for reminding me to remove the plank in my own eye before I asked my neighbor to remove the sliver from theirs.

It was a really good day.

❤️

“You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”
Matthew 7:5 NIV

Eat, Pray, Camp!

Wed, 16 Oct 2019 01:30:46 -0600

“The r-pod 196 nestled in the trees at Cedar Creek State Park near Glenville, WV”

I moved to the next campground easily enough yesterday morning. Mr. FixIt met me at the McDonald’s in Glenville for breakfast so I could get my travel coordinates before we parted company for another couple of weeks. We had the BEST weekend! It was our first wedding anniversary, which I had told you about. When he arrived at the campground Saturday night, he greeted me with a dozen roses and a sweet card. I greeted him with a warm supper and a big hug. We hiked, biked, and chatted with folks he knew in the campground. (Have I told you he knows EVERYONE?!) We rested and watched movies and took naps. And we just flat out enjoyed not having cell service or TV to distract us from enjoying each other’s company. It was wonderful!

Speaking of no cell service, we had just finished eating lunch out in front of our camper on Monday when Mr. FixIt’s phone rang! We could barely hear a woman’s voice and she was saying something about coming to the office. We thought it must have something to do with his insurance policy because the call came from his agent’s office. That was really weird.

After lunch, we decided to go for a bike ride around the state park. It’s such a great place to ride bikes because the campground is essentially flat. When we got back to the camper, Mr. FixIt reached to remove his wallet from his back pocket and…it was GONE! We looked in both trucks and all over the camper and campsite, but he figured he had to have lost it when he was riding his bike.

I hadn’t realized till I got back to the camper that he wasn’t right behind me. I got off my bike and took off my helmet and gloves and here he came. It turned out he had gotten his shoe lace wrapped around the bike pedal and had to stop at the camp store to get untangled. He assumed that is where he lost the wallet. So, we got in the truck. I prayed out loud.

“Jesus, please help us find my husband’s wallet!”

We took off driving very slowly…looking for a brown wallet amongst the equally brown leaves all over the roadway. We hadn’t had any luck when we passed a couple out for a walk.

“You haven’t happened to find a wallet, have you?”

“Nope…sorry. We haven’t seen a thing!”

“Ok, we’ll keep looking. Thanks!”

While we were talking to the couple who were walking, another couple rode past us on their bikes on the other side of the truck.

Suddenly, we heard the walking couple.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

I looked in the rear view mirror and they were waving us back and pointing at the couple on the bike. The bikers rode up to us.

“You looking for a wallet? I just turned one in at the park headquarters building! They have it waiting for you!”

I stuck my hand out the window and looked up and shouted, “Thank you, Jesus!!!”

We drove on up to the building at the park entrance and sure enough, it was Mr. FixIt’s wallet…intact with his one lone dollar bill and his credit cards. As we were driving back to the camper, he looked at me and said, “Man, that was really lucky!”

I looked at him with a level stare and said, “No, honey…luck had nothing to do with that. What did I do as soon as we got in the truck? I prayed that Jesus would help us find your wallet, didn’t I?” He nodded in agreement. “Then, we asked the walkers if they found a wallet and they didn’t. But they asked the bikers, and THEY did…and had turned it in. All in the space of about ten minutes after I prayed! That was a prayer answered, sweetheart…plain and simple.”

He had to agree. Especially when we were sitting at breakfast yesterday and he checked his phone.

“Huh…I have a missed call.” It was from the same number that got through in an area with no phone service. They had called back and left us this message.

“Hi there…this is __________ from you insurance agent’s office. We received a call from the folks at Cedar Creek State Park saying someone found your wallet. You need to check in with the headquarters office to get it back.”

I looked at Mr. FixIt and smiled. “See? You can add getting a phone call in an area with no cell service about your lost wallet to the list of steps God took to return it to you!”

I’m gobsmacked when God does these things…especially when it shows another person that He’s really REAL and cares about ALL the things, not just the big stuff. Even a wallet that falls out in the leaves.

❤️

“If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.”
John 15:7 NIV

Check Engine Light

Wed, 09 Oct 2019 01:30:08 -0600

“How many times have you seen this come on…right in front of the dealership?!?!”

I was heading through Marietta, Ohio yesterday afternoon on my way from one campground to the next. My preferred Ford dealer is there and as I was driving by, I got “the nudge”. The thought went through my mind…“Check your engine light!” Literally…I was right in front of the dealership when I looked down and…

It was ON!!!

I kid you not! I got goose bumps. Ok…I drove down a block, turned around, and came back. I pulled up as close to the service entrance as I could while pulling a camper behind me. Luke, the Service Supervisor, came out and checked the truck with the computer. One of the oxygen sensors was bad. They checked and had one in stock and they had a free technician. I unhooked the camper, pulled the truck in, and went out to the camper to stretch out and read. An hour later, they called and the truck was ready.

You cannot tell me prayer doesn’t work. You cannot tell me the Holy Spirit doesn’t guide us. How many of you sent up prayers and good thoughts for travel mercies for me yesterday? Well, they worked…and I thank you for those prayers!

But most of all, I thank God for always watching out for me. I love it when He comes through with a megaphone because there was absolutely nothing subtle about that call. Wowza!

I got to the next campground just before dusk. I never reveal where I am in real time when I’m traveling alone so I’ll have to let you know the day after I leave. But, talk about peace and quiet…it’s crazy quiet here. I was hoping to see the night sky, but the clouds stole in just as I was unhooking. Maybe tonight. In the meantime…great cell service and a deadline to meet. What a great place to write!

❤️

“When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?”
Psalms 8:3-4 NIV

We’ve Come a Long Way Baby!

Mon, 16 Sep 2019 01:30:40 -0600

“Camping in the early days in Denver. This is just down the street from where Ben & Sue live!”

Janine and I spent our time at the RV Show yesterday browsing around for content for our blogs. We stood for eight hours and walked nearly 10,000 steps. By the time the show was finished, we were exhausted but then there was work to be done. Processing and editing photos, writing blog posts, calculating trip routes and travel times. All the logistics that come with the postmortems of a travel show.

I’ll bet we didn’t get to see one tenth of this show. And even that was overwhelming. We did see a couple of really cool campers. We saw some really EXPENSIVE campers. We saw everything from bargain basement, bare bones boxes to luxury on wheels. It’s amazing what some of the interiors of these campers look like. Marble counters, high end furnishings, and appliances that look like they come out of the finest kitchens. It boggles the mind that people would pay half a million dollars for a fancy bus.

There are so many accessories….many that you definitely don’t need, but there are lots that were pretty handy. One was a rechargeable work light that would work well to illuminate a campsite if you arrive in the dark and need to back in. We have some really fun accessories that I’ll be sharing with you after the big reveal next week. We are still holding back the majority of the photos till then.

In the meantime, they are breaking down the show overnight. I need to get a smaller ball on my hitch to fit the new camper. Janine and I are heading to the Ponderosa today then to Huntington tomorrow. We’ll dry camp out in the field tonight! So please keep us in your prayers for travel mercies today. I am so excited about pulling this camper today!

❤️

“For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.”
Proverbs 2:6 NIV

Full Moon...Friday the 13th

Fri, 13 Sep 2019 01:30:48 -0600

“Tonight is a full moon AND Friday the 13th! What could POSSIBLY go wrong?”

If you have ever worked in an emergency room, you know it is guaranteed to be crazy busy on the night of a full moon and any Friday the 13th. Add the two? Yikes! Let’s just say, I’m super happy I am going to go work an RV show today and not an ER!

Yesterday was insanely busy. I got up early and finished packing. Mr. FixIt had to work so I loaded up the truck by myself. Although I started early and it was only 73 degrees, within an hour I was sweating buckets and things became decidedly more difficult. I managed to get everything finished around 11:00 and headed to town. I had some errands to run before a doctor’s appointment at 2:45. The Doctor ran really late so it was 4:15 by the time I was finished.

As I walked around the back of my truck in the parking lot, I noticed the hitch wasn’t on my truck. Mr. FixIt usually does that for me because a hitch with all the gear to use weight distribution bars is really heavy. I had to drive all the way home and hook it up myself before I could head out of town. I was really tired by 10:00 and started looking for a hotel room. I finally found one around Hagerstown, MD and stopped for the night. There’s a long stretch through the mountains where the pickin’s are slim.

I love traveling by night. The traffic is lighter and the moon was amazing! By the time I got settled in my room, it was 11:30 so I was whupped. I don’t have to be at the RV Show till noon so I could sleep in this morning! Gotta be ready for a busy, busy couple of days!

❤️

“For it is written: “ ‘He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’ ””
Luke 4:10-11 NIV

There is Another

Mon, 09 Sep 2019 01:30:03 -0600

“There is another who stands with us in the fire….always.”

I cannot tell you how many times I have felt alone in my life. Totally alone. Totally forgotten. Maybe not totally worthless…but pretty darned close sometimes. When I went through my formal conversion to Judaism just before my second child was born, part of the process was to sit before the Bet Din…the Jewish Tribunal Court that determines your suitability. Did you learn all you needed to learn? Are you converting for your faith…or for your husband? How will you accomplish the very important aspect of the Jewish faith…being a contributing member of the synagogue?

These were the easy questions. I had already lived a Jewish life for 12 years. This conversion was merely a formality so that our child would be considered by other Jews to be Jewish once she was born. The difficult question came last.

“Do you renounce Jesus as your personal savior?”

I thought I would fly through these questions without giving them a second thought. But this question….this…betrayal to all I had learned as a child hit something deep within me I didn’t even realize was there. But what was I to do? I was pregnant out to here and my nice Jewish doctor-husband was sitting on the other side of the door, waiting for me.

“I have obligations to my family,” I thought to myself. “I have people depending on me to show up as a Jew…not the least of which is my unborn child.”

So, I said yes…and that’s where the trouble started. I felt God…I don’t know…step back, for lack of a better description. From that moment on…for the next ten years…I felt alone. Forsaken, as I had forsaken Jesus. Granted, I had not recognized him as the Son of God at that point. I had never invited Him into my life. I had never given over to Him and called Him Lord. I guess, in that moment, I realized He was still in the back of my mind. He was still there. That is, until I kicked Him to the curb in the office of the synagogue that cold and sunny January day.

I didn’t deserve Him. I had shunned Him. I felt there was no forgiveness for such an action and that was where I was left. Dying on the vine from the inside out. Ten years later, after an overdose nearly killed me, I started my long journey back to life and along the way…praise God…I was brought to my knees at the foot of the Cross and came home to Jesus in 2005. Nearly fifteen years ago.

What I’ve learned since then is this: I was never alone in the fire. God was always there with me, no matter how far I tried to push Him away. I spent that whole decade feeling alone and unworthy…far from God on my side of the fence. Yet He sat there patiently watching out for me, patiently waiting for me to cry out for him.

I think of myself as a parent…how sad I have been at times when my children’s focus has them far away from me and how joyful I feel when they call, or reach out to me for something even as mundane as a family recipe. This must be how God feels when we reach our arms out to Him to be held. Like any parent…He loves His children. Like any parent…He rejoices when His children love Him back.

❤️

“How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.”
Psalms 36:7 ESV

Random Acts of Kindness...Senseless Acts of Beauty

Tue, 03 Sep 2019 01:30:15 -0600

“My grandma always said you can catch a lot more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”

About thirty years ago, a woman named Anne Herbert wrote something on a placemat in a restaurant. “Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.” Since then, countless posters, books, t-shirts, and movies have incorporated this idea of doing something for others…some kindness…without expecting anything in return. Things like paying for the person behind you in the drive through at the local coffee shop. Or, leaving a basket of flowers on someone’s doorstep. Or, something I like to do every once in a while….put a sticky note on a $5 bill with a note like “God loves you!”…then tuck it in a book at the library or a book store.

Practicing random acts of kindness didn’t start with Ms. Herbert, of course. The original practitioner was Jesus, of course…and we would do well to strive to emulate Him. Being a good person seems to be rapidly going out of style. My dad wasn’t what you would call a profound thinker, but he said one thing that always stuck with me. “Computers will be the downfall of mankind.” I think I rolled my eyes when he said that. But maybe he wasn’t so far off.

I don’t think it’s computers, per se, that will be the downfall of man. I think it’s how computers are used. Social media has created a monster. It’s given people a voice who may never have had one. It’s placed a filter between people….it’s created an US against THEM atmosphere. And, it has taken away the social filter of eye contact, allowing whatever vitriol that comes to mind to flow through the keyboard without repercussion. Cyber bullying isn’t limited to 8th grade girls and misunderstood emo boys.

I will have to say…thankfully there has been very little in the way of nastiness on this page. I won’t tolerate it and the few times it’s happened, the instigator has been blocked and the offending message deleted. That isn’t the case everywhere. It’s hard to judge the “tone” of a message when it’s written. All it takes is one “rude” comment to unleash a flood of bullying back and forth…and that’s with grown adults!

It’s a new month. School is back in session. I don’t want to wait for Christmas to have the good feels. Let’s go out today and do kind things for people. If it’s not new to you, great! Keep up the good work! If it’s been a while and you’d like to rectify that situation, go out there and do something nice for someone today. And if someone does something nice for you, pay it forward.

We attract to us what we dish out. If we are negative and uncaring, we just get more of the same. If we are kind and loving, there is a better chance of attracting that same kindness and love. If it doesn’t come right away…keep trying. It never hurts to spread good vibes around the world.

❤️

“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”
Ephesians 4:32 ESV

The Tug of War

Mon, 02 Sep 2019 01:30:54 -0600

“Angel on one hand, devil on the other…trying to have their way with me.”

Mr. FixIt and I haven’t had a lot of time together this summer. I was gone a lot and, even though he joined me for three weeks in Colorado, we both have been working nonstop at this and that since we got home the first week of August. Here it is September already and I’m already preparing to leave again.

We miss being together and we both know the importance of devoting time to our relationship. It’s been really nice this weekend because we took three days off for some much needed R&R. When I woke up yesterday, I was tired. My allergies have been giving me fits creating fluid in my ears which sometimes makes me dizzy. I laid in bed for twenty minutes telling myself it was perfectly fine to stay home…we didn’t have to go to church. I mean…it’s just this once, right? We go almost every Sunday when we are home. That deserves a day off to sleep in. I just didn’t feel good. I didn’t feel like going.

As I let these thoughts run through my mind, I was almost convinced to turn over and go back to sleep when a stern “voice” shook me from my reverie.

“When you don’t FEEL like going is exactly when you NEED to go!”

I quite literally jumped out of bed.

Ohhhhh….my thinker was what was “sick”. Church is the place it gets healed.

When I’m thinking I don’t need to go to church is exactly when I need it the most. And yesterday, I am not kidding…church felt like plugging in my jet pack. I got fed the energy and grace and love and lessons I needed and I left there convicted. Convinced the place to feel better is to draw closer to Jesus, not turn over and go back to sleep.

It’s not enough to go every Sunday and get plugged in, hoping the charge lasts till the following Sunday. That obviously didn’t work last week because I easily could have opted out. My tug of war pitted the proverbial angel on one hand and devil on the other…each trying to pull me to their side. I know I can’t ever go wrong when I choose Jesus.

The key is to draw closer…constantly. The Bible says we are to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17). The way to do that is to turn whatever you are doing into worship. Whether you are singing in the choir or scrubbing toilets, it can be done with a tone of worship and praise. And when we pray, we are to devote ourselves “to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving” (Colossians 4:2)

Just that boost, and the conviction to keep close, has given me rest and regeneration. I feel so much better and not nearly so overwhelmed by all I need to accomplish in the next two weeks. I came to the farm after church…to my place of meditation…to the home of my heart…and enjoyed a quiet evening while Mr. FixIt bowled. Today, I’ll go back home and get some work done. Perhaps I’ll pressure wash the deck!

❤️

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”
Romans 12:2 NIV

Dining Alone

Sun, 01 Sep 2019 01:30:25 -0600

“Dining alone can be an intimidating experience when you are widowed.”

I saw her walk into the restaurant with the rest of us “early birds”. The waitress came up to her table and handed her a menu.

“Just one?”

I’m sure I’m the only one in the restaurant that saw the shadow of pain skitter across her face.

“Yes.”

“Really?”

sigh

I wanted to smack the perky waitress but decided at some point in the meal, this would become a teaching moment.

When we walked in, there were friends sitting in a booth near the front of the restaurant. They called to us to join them. The woman dining alone sat nearby. Our friends lost their son a couple of years ago. Eventually, our conversation included him…mentioning him by name, telling a funny story or two, comforting her and telling her at two years, it’s still ok to cry. It’s always ok to cry.

The waitress came back to give us our check and I chose that moment to speak to the woman dining alone. We made direct eye contact.

“I remember the first time I went to a restaurant alone after my husband died.”

She looked at me steadily. I recognized the sadness in her eyes. I sat there…many times.

“It doesn’t really help to be asked…’Oh…you’re alone?’ The first time I went to our favorite restaurant, I opened my iPad and pulled up my favorite picture of my husband and propped him up on the table so I didn’t feel so alone.”

“Yes…it’s really hard. Especially when someone comes up to you after a year and a half and asks ‘Where’s Paul?’”

The waitress whirled around. It just dawned on her what had happened. She opened her mouth to say something and I quickly said, “It’s not your fault. You aren’t clairvoyant so you had no way of knowing.” But now she’ll be more aware the next time someone comes in unaccompanied.

As we were leaving, I glanced over at the woman dining alone and gave her a long, knowing look and a gentle smile. She smiled back and waved.

God moments. He gives us the people we need to help…and to help us.

❤️

“He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing.”
Deuteronomy 10:18 NIV

Like Sands Through the Hourglass...

Sat, 31 Aug 2019 01:30:08 -0600

“Sending some cheerful hugs, love and prayers to one of my dearest peeps!”

One of my dearest peeps is having a medical issue that will involve a lengthy period of medical treatments. I can’t be with her or give her hugs or bring her casseroles, so I’m doing the next best thing…I’m sending her a little “Comfort Quilt” to stuff in her tote and take to the hospital. I told her when she wraps herself up in it, she can feel my hugs and prayers because I’m putting both in it!

I spent yesterday afternoon at the little quilt shop in town, cutting and sewing the quilt top. The owner and I spent the time chatting and visiting with the other women who came in to shop. When they were all gone, she asked if I would mind if she turned the TV back on. The last time I was there, she had been watching quilt tutorials. I normally hate TV, but anything educational is quite tolerable.

Imagine my surprise when she turned on…wait for it…..Days of Our Lives! I didn’t even know that was still on the air! Well, I’m here to tell you…it is. I haven’t watched soap operas since Daughter #2 was a baby. I usually watched while I folded the laundry. Here’s the crazy thing…

Maggie…Victor…Marlena…they’re ALL still there!!!

And they’ve been stuck in the same wine cellar since 1990!!!

Seriously though…other than people carrying cell phones, you wouldn’t know 29 years had passed. There was one actress on there that plays two characters…one of whom wears those false teeth that made her look like her daddy drank up all the money for her orthodontia. And she had such a grossly over-exaggerated fake southern hick accent that it was insulting. Every word she said made me want to get up and slap her for making fun of me and my people.

Anyway, I finished the quilt top and the shop owner will quilt it on the long arm tomorrow and I can pick it up Tuesday, sew on the binding and get it sent off with lots of love and hugs and prayers for complete healing and minimal side effects. When I get it finished, I’ll post another picture and you can send your prayers and hugs along with mine!

Till then…I hope you have a fun and safe Labor Day Weekend. And, if you’re in the way of the hurricane…please be careful out there!!! Prayers for your health and safety!

❤️

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword.....No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:35, 37‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When Bad Things Happen...Lean In Closer

Wed, 28 Aug 2019 01:30:30 -0600

“Thank you so much for all of your prayers. I am so grateful.”

Since June, there has been one catastrophic event after another befall my friends and family. Cancer, Stillbirth, Mental Heath Crises, Accidents, Illness, Death. One after another after another. I’ve heard it said “Bad things happen in threes.” Try three TIMES three…and then some!

I once read the book “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” by Harold Kushner. The author is a Conservative Rabbi and the book addressed the long standing debate: If God is loving and caring, how can so many bad things happen to good people? While the book was written in 1981, I turned to it in 2001 after 9/11.

I had a difficult time reconciling a loving, omnipresent Deity “allowing” something so heinous to happen to thousands of innocent people. No doubt, people who loved Him, and worshiped Him whose only fault of the day was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I must admit, I was not yet a Christian on 9/11. It would be another three years before I took that leap of faith and surrendered to a God so much bigger than me. I was full of righteous anger that a “loving God” would allow this to happen. I could not wrap my head around it. I went to a psychiatrist and asked him for guidance. I was given a version of “these things happen”. Then I went to a Rabbi and asked him, “Where was God today???”

“He was there,” he said. “He was under the desks with the mothers as they called frantically to tell their loved ones goodbye. He was in the stairwells with the brave men who were helping the injured trying to escape the chaos. He was with the First Responders as they rushed into the flaming buildings, knowing full well they may not come back out alive. And many did not.

He was on the planes with the terrified passengers and crew members. He held steady those that made a mad rush on the terrorists over Pennsylvania. He was with the unsuspecting workers in the Pentagon and the Towers. God was everywhere, crying out in anguish as life after life was snuffed out.

God does not punish us with cruelty. He does not take pleasure in our pain. But what He DOES do is turn those terrifying moments into opportunities to lean into Him. To call out for Him. To have faith that, even in the darkest moments, He never forsakes us.

And that brings me to the events that have cast a shadow over my circle of friends and family…those I hold most dear and those whom I only know through others. We ask ourselves why these things happen, one on top of the other and the only answer there could be is…this is the nature of life.

As Stephen Colbert so eloquently stated on the subject of grief and the loss of his father and two brothers in a plane crash when he was ten: about learning to “love the thing that I most wish had not happened.” He went on to say: “It’s a gift to exist and with existence comes suffering. There’s no escaping that. What do you get from loss? You get awareness of other people’s loss, which allows you to connect with that other person, which allows you to love more deeply and to understand what it’s like to be a human being if it’s true that all humans suffer.”

I hate that my loved ones and friends are suffering. I wish I could take that pain away from them. But, if by doing so, I would rob them of the awareness of other people’s loss and subsequent connection with them, then I am denying them their humanness…their connectedness. I would rob them of the opportunity to love more deeply and to truly understand what it’s like to be human.

What I CAN do for them is to be there for them, to hold a sacred, safe space for them to come to and grieve. And I can encourage them to seek a closer relationship with their higher power, which for me personally is God.

Our pastor said something the other day that struck me. I’m paraphrasing, but it went something like this: When disaster strikes you and you wail in your grief, this is normal. But lean in very close and put your ear to God’s lips and listen.

He is closest to the brokenhearted.

❤️

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
Psalms 34:18 NLT

Singing with Jesus

Sun, 25 Aug 2019 01:30:39 -0600

“Mr. FixIt says our pear trees have never produced…he thought they were ornamental. This year, they’re loaded!”

The other day I had to have a fasting blood draw for some tests. When I came out of the lab, I was humming a praise song as I walked through the lobby. “Your promise still stands…great is your faithfulness, your faithfulness.”

The woman in front of me turned around and gave me a huge smile and said, “You must be really happy! I’m a singer, too. I’m always walking around singing.”

I smiled back. “Well, Jesus is always with me and we love to sing together.”

She stopped and looked at me and said, “That’s a really good thing. I like that!”

Yesterday was a busy day. We had our class picnic in the afternoon. Then, Mr. FixIt went to help someone with a move and I went home and mowed five acres. Then I cleaned the pool. When I mow the lawn, I use a pair of ear protectors that have Bluetooth speakers in them so I can listen to the music on my phone. I crank up my worship music and once in a while I have to laugh when I catch myself driving with one hand and praising with the other!

Mr. FixIt came home when I was just finishing cleaning the pool. He was kind enough to deal with back flushing the pump for me so I didn’t have to keep getting out of the pool to do it. There is a decided turn in the temperatures that have put the unmistakable tinge of fall in the air. Mr. FixIt said the temp was 54 yesterday morning and very foggy when he left to work on the porch he’s building with a friend.

And today is church day…my favorite day of every single week! See you this evening for Sunday Evening Prayer Circle!

❤️

“Yet we hear that some of you are living idle lives, refusing to work and meddling in other people’s business. We command such people and urge them in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ to settle down and work to earn their own living. As for the rest of you, dear brothers and sisters, never get tired of doing good.”
2 Thessalonians 3:11-13 NLT

Always Choose Joy. Unless You Can’t...

Wed, 21 Aug 2019 01:30:25 -0600

“Here’s to the compassionate people!”

I’ve been on a JOY kick all year. Ok. I get it. I just got married in October and I’m full of the feels. But yesterday, I got a reminder that sometimes…no matter how much you WANT to…joy eludes you for an indeterminate amount of time.

I belong to a few widow’s support groups on Facebook. I have cockily thought to myself from time to time that I certainly don’t NEED a widow’s support group anymore. That is, until I DO. Then I am ever so grateful for those who share and lift each other up, no matter where they land on the grief/time continuum.

There have been times when I read about the desperate sadness we as the bereaved quite normally go through and my heart breaks for them. I think of all the times I didn’t think I could go on. I think of all the wonderful people who supported and loved me through the most horrific event I have experienced up to this moment in time. There were people I didn’t even know…you readers…who lifted me and helped me move forward, even as I tried to lift others.

But yesterday there was a post that garnered a good deal of pushback and it gave me pause. Basically, this person was saying…just choose joy. That’s a gross simplification, but that was the bottom line. Just choose joy. It made me think about my cheerleading and jumping on the JOY TRAIN and how it may seem dismissive of those who are still in the active throes of grief.

It’s damned hard to find joy when the person who was so much your SOURCE of joy is no longer here. I know this in the core of my being. When I was in my darkest dark place in grief, I truly felt I would never find a glimmer of happiness in this lifetime again…let alone JOY. And yes…you DO have to make a lot of choices in this new normal. One of them is choosing to keep living. Choosing to keep trying. Choosing to keep moving forward no matter HOW hard it is or lonely or heart breaking.

We choose to do this for others….our kids, our parents, our friends…even our person who “would want me to live my life”. Eventually, it is my fervent HOPE that we choose to do this for ourselves.

I have been guilty of using the word “choose” a little too blithely, I’m afraid. And if I have, and it has caused you pain, may I offer my humblest apologies. It is not easy to choose when you are in overwhelming pain. It’s not that I forgot this…but maybe I push it a bit too far out of reach to mentor as effectively as I would like to.

I want you to have hope. I want you to find joy. I want you to experience good things in your life again. I know it CAN happen…I’m proof. It just needs to happen in its own time. And when you DO experience what passes as joy, it may not look the same as someone else’s and that’s ok. I just wanted you to know…I haven’t forgotten those of you whose hearts are so incredibly crushed. I will strive to always hold a sacred space for you here.

❤️

“My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life.”
Psalm 119:50 NIV

Bowling Season Has Begun

Mon, 19 Aug 2019 01:30:06 -0600

“Pink roses and strawberries…and bowling season. Somebody loves me!”

Mr. FixIt is an avid bowler. He’s been on two bowling leagues for the last thirty-five years and he enjoys it immensely. He has friends there. He has ample opportunity to talk. It’s his guy time. And, I enjoy having a couple of evenings a week to do whatever I want to do as well. Honestly, I fell asleep late in the afternoon and didn’t hear him leave. When I woke up, I caught up with my Sunday evening phone calls and chats so it was a relaxing evening.

When he arrived home, he went into the kitchen to fix something to eat and we were trying to carry on a conversation while I was in the family room. He called out, “You know…I could hear you better if you were in here with me.” Of course! Sometimes we get so wrapped up in what we’re doing, we forget the basic manners and niceties we should offer those we love most.

I walked into the kitchen and there on the counter was a dozen pink roses and two cartons of fresh strawberries! I am always thunderstruck when he surprises me with these lovely unexpected gifts of love.

I looked at him and smiled. “What’s this?”

“It’s been a little while since I brought you flowers. It was time.” He smiled back.

What goodness this is…this life that is sweeter than any red strawberry…softer than any pink rosebud. This is a blessing. This is God’s gift to me. This man who lifts me up and celebrates who I am. Who cheers me on and encourages me to explore and be everything I can be. This man who holds my hand in church and prays alongside me. Who holds me and comforts me when I am sick or sad. I only pray I give him this same love back every day of my life.

There was so much sadness in my life after Mr. Virgo died. I swore I would never fall in love…never remarry…because the thought of going through that again was too much to bear. Then color came back into my life. And I could hear music and I could breathe and somehow I knew I could love again. I don’t know how long we have together…but it’s bowling season and I have strawberries and pink roses and my life is good.

❤️

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
Matthew 5:4 NIV

“Let The Sun Shine...”

Sun, 18 Aug 2019 01:30:25 -0600

“The Ubiquitous Photo from Woodstock”

Fifty years ago this weekend, a gazillion people descended on Mr. Yasgur’s New York farm just five hundred miles from where I grew up. What started out as a ticketed music event soon devolved into chaos as tens of thousands of unticketed hippies made their way into the tiny village of Bethel. The festival had already suffered a last minute change of venue and was seriously short on cash, but there came a point where Woodstock took on a life of its own.

Fifty years have passed. I didn’t go, of course. I was only sixteen and actually didn’t even hear about it till it was on the news. Not that I would have done something so brazen as to defy my parents because I know they never would have allowed me to go. I never even skipped a class in school, let alone run off to a hippy concert five hundred miles away. Still, I marveled at the mass of humanity. And, I liked the music.

It was such a crazy summer…the Summer of ‘69. The Summer of Love. That’s what we called it. But the older generations thought we young people were out of our minds. Sex, drugs, and Rock & Roll. And now look where we are. I saw a meme today. A grandpa was saying he fought in WWII and built his house with his own two hands. His great grandson said, “Sometimes I put a meme on Facebook and it gets a lot of likes.” That is so sad…and unfortunately, all too true.

We didn’t have the internet in 1969. We didn’t have the news on 24/7/365. We didn’t have violent video games. We didn’t have as many latch key kids and no iPad kids or YouTube kids. Dr. Spock was just beginning to tell us how to raise our kids and to never swat their butts or we would bruise their fragile self-esteems. I’ll tell you what, if I sassed back to my parents, they bruised my “self-esteem” with whatever was handy. I did the same with my kids. Nowadays, you can have your kids taken away for that. And they know it.

I remember Daughter #1 saying she was going to call Child Protective Services because I wouldn’t let her go to a party. I smiled and recited the number to her. Then I took her car keys. It’s hard to parent now. Having the grandkids over this week with their own little ones made me compare how easy I had it compared to what they are facing. And I didn’t have it all that easy.

After my first divorce, I was a single mom in Denver. My family lived in West Virginia. I didn’t have anyone I could leave the baby with while I went to work. I had to find child care…and pray they wouldn’t hurt my daughter. I lived in HUD housing, on food stamps and WIC. I drove a beat up old Pontiac that I paid some Iranians $200 for. The hood and the trunk were wired closed with coat hangers. All four sides were dented in. I prayed every day I could get to work so I could take care of us. I didn’t have a smart phone and five sets of grandparents to step in when I was overwhelmed.

God knows, I made plenty of mistakes in those early years. It’s a wonder we made it through. The music of 1969 was five years old before my daughter was born. I look back now in awe. I knew I’d be “old” someday. I just thought it would take longer. Oh, sixty-six isn’t OLD, exactly. I sure feel the difference, just in the last couple of years. Mr. FixIt and I work very hard and it’s taking it’s toll. I hurt in places that never hurt before. It takes me a bit to get moving. But, like my husband says…you’ve got to keep moving or you’ll stop.

Fifty years since Woodstock…and there’s a real part of me that genuinely feels a little past my prime. However, I’m about to take a brand new camper wherever I want for five months and write about it! Isn’t that just about the coolest thing? I wouldn’t take who I was in 1969 back for anything!

“Let the sun shine…let the sun shine in…the sun…shine in!”

❤️

“I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body,”
2 Peter 1:13 NIV

Running on Empty

Sat, 17 Aug 2019 01:30:59 -0600

“Something’s going on with my electric supply.”

I thought I was tired Thursday night! Then yesterday hit. It started out when I got an e-mail reminding me there was a form I was supposed to send on Monday! With going to the farm, then coming back to company, smoking what feels like half a pig and processing it, I totally spaced getting that form sent.

I didn’t have ink in my printer, of course. So I ran to town and had the form printed at Office Depot. I took a photo of it and sent it to them, but got another e-mail that it wasn’t adequate. So, when I got home, I popped the original in an envelope and took it to the post office. I got home and Mr. FixIt asked if we got any mail. Now that I thought of it, we hadn’t received any mail since we returned from Colorado over a week ago and that’s highly unusual. I drove BACK to town to the post office again and they aren’t holding the mail. Crazy that we haven’t received even an ad. That never happens!

As soon as I got home the second time, I hopped on the riding mower and four hours later, in 92 degree heat, I was finished. By this time, we had more company. I quickly changed and hopped in the pool for a refreshing dip. Everyone left to go to the pizza place and to get ice cream, but I elected to stay home. I’d had too much heat and I didn’t feel terrific.

I went out to hook big TOW-Wanda up to the electric. I used a new extension cord and the same outlet I’ve used before. When I plugged in the Surge Protector, it said the ground was open. Then when I plugged in the camper, it said there was Reverse Polarity. That means a line in the outlet is switched, but that can’t be because no one has been here or done anything to our electric. As I was pulling the electrical cord out, there were lots of wasps flying around the opening so they’ve built a nest in there. Our grandson used the last of the wasp spray yesterday when he was helping Mr. FixIt so that has to wait. However, when I was pulling the cord out, it got stuck. I pulled and pulled with all my might. It suddenly let go and threw me backwards where I landed on my elbow and smacked the back of my head. I’m really careful about hitting my head since I had the car accident in 2017, but I think the only thing that was bruised was my pride. And a little scrape on my elbow.

Our grandson and his family are going back home today so things should settle a little bit. I still need to clean the smoker out. I asked Mr. FixIt if I could use the power washer but he said since it’s electric, it probably wouldn’t be a very good idea. Poo. I think it sounds like an excellent idea…as long as I don’t have it plugged in. But then again…I can’t figure out the plug-in for the camper, so maybe he’s right.

I have a prayer request a day early…please keep my brother-friend in your prayers. He had a frightening medical emergency the other day. It could have been so much worse. Just lift him up for complete healing, please!

Last night was just one of those moments I’ve only seemed to have since Mr. Virgo died. I get to where I’m running on empty and I think, “Please, just don’t give me one more thing to handle today, Lord…I’m at the end of my rope.” Then, when I get off to myself and have a moment to catch my breath, I remind myself…when I’m at the end of my rope, God ties a knot in it so I don’t fall off. There is less of “me” at the end of that rope, therefore…there is more of God.

❤️

““You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.”
Matthew 5:3 MSG

The Farm is Failing

Wed, 14 Aug 2019 01:30:36 -0600

“The farm is the home of my heart…but it’s aging rapidly.”

Mr. FixIt and I have been back from Colorado for a week now. We talked over the weekend and decided to go to the farm for a couple of days because I haven’t been there since the third week of June. I really miss the farm when I’m away and can’t get there. Then, Monday morning came and there was so much to get done at the Ponderosa. Still…the farm…

I decided to bring the dirty laundry and come to the farm on my own for a couple of days. Mr. FixIt is capable of taking care of himself and, while he misses me…he understands my need to be at the farm sometimes. He’s a good guy.

There was a hard rain come through yesterday. I sat on the front porch and watched and it was soon over. The sun came out and the green dazzled my eyes. Everything was so clean and fresh. I sat for the longest time and just scoured the hillside and surrounding area…looking for differences.

The power line coming to the transformer on the pole in front of the house is noticeably drooping down low over the road. A tall vehicle could easily catch that. I’ll have to report it today. Also, the big pine tree on the bank seems to be leaning further out there over the driveway. I pulled up older pictures from the same vantage point to verify both the line and the tree. Something’s going to have to be done with that, too.

I noticed Monday afternoon, there’s a wild grape vine on the power line between the house and the cinderblock building. None of that was there before I left for Colorado. This monsoon summer has created an overgrowth the likes of which I have never seen here. It’s like a tropical rain forest.

When I did a walkabout yesterday, I noticed another tree on the hillside across the creek from the house that has split in half. But it appears the uphill half is actually falling up the hill. That has always been the main concern here. This little holler is so narrow, and the ground is shale and very soft. It wouldn’t take much to bring trees down on this house.

Maybe the earth is taking her back. Maybe it’s the natural progression of old farm houses. I do know, to bring this place back to life and prosperity would take far more money than it’s worth. And, a ton…an absolute TON of work. We’re not OLD…but we are 66 and 67. The other day, I told Mr. FixIt…if we were just 30 years younger, we could do so much with this place.

I think what I have to do is start saying goodbye to the old home place…in earnest. I know there will come a time when it isn’t safe to stay here without cutting down a bunch of trees…without upgrading the electricity…without shoring up the beams in the basement and the attic. My time here is getting shorter…I can feel it. I’m working on girding my heart in preparation.

It’s like the old man who can tell it’s going to rain by the pain in his knee. The only difference is…this pain is in my heart.

❤️

“"Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses, while this house lies in ruins?”
Haggai 1:4 ESV

Basking in the Glow of Family

Sat, 03 Aug 2019 01:30:27 -0600

“The sun goes down on the evening before my baby’s wedding. My heart is full!”

Last night was amazing. Every fear and trepidation I had beforehand dissipated as soon as we pulled into the driveway at Hubby #2’s house. He was so gracious, as was his wife. Their house is stunning. Their dogs are the sweetest things. Daughter #1 and her family were there when we arrived and soon after, my sister- and brother-in-law arrived from Utah. Oh, my gosh! It was so exciting to see them all!

Just before dinner, my daughter and her fiancée arrived and we were a complete family. My brother enjoyed everyone and joined in the conversations. It really was perfect. What I learned from this: When you hand things over to God to take care of…you have to let go of it. I knew as I was driving over from Glenwood Springs…this was going to be good. This was going to be very, very good.

After dinner, Daughter #2 came to me and said, “Mama…I have something for you to do tomorrow. You’re in charge of this…and making sure he has a seat at my wedding.”

With that she handed me a framed photo of Mr. Virgo. She was very close to her stepfather and losing him was so hard on her. The suddenness of seeing his smiling face…so totally unexpected…took my breath away and I started crying. I wasn’t the only one. It was a very special moment and it still makes me tearful as I write this. What a beautiful gesture…what a beautiful God moment….what love…what treasures I have in this family.

My baby is getting married today. My heart is so full! Thank you Jesus for every gift you have given me in this life!

❤️

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot sweep it away. If one were to give all the wealth of one’s house for love, it would be utterly scorned.”
Song of Songs 8:6-7 NIV

No Worse for the Wear

Fri, 02 Aug 2019 01:30:06 -0600

“While once sleek and shiny, these vehicles still hold a deep beauty.”

We left Ridgway yesterday saying goodbye to our friends, Linda and Jim. We both choked up…goodbyes have always been difficult for me ever since I lost Mr. Virgo. We just don’t know if and when we will meet again and it tears at my heartstrings. I know Linda loves Colorado, but deep down, she has that Ohio farm girl in there somewhere. I loved watching her as she listened to Mr. FixIt’s unmistakable West Virginia accent and she was transported back over the years and the miles to the home of her youth.

Even though we didn’t go to the same high school with Linda, we know many of the same people…one of whom is Jeff. He and his wife Julie moved to the Ridgway area a couple of years ago. It’s funny how the webs of friendship cross over. Linda and Jeff were both friends with Cindy (a girl from my class) and that’s how they connected. I am friends with Cindy and that’s how Linda connected with me and the connection with Jeff was made through Linda and because he was on the boy’s gymnastics team while I competed with the girl’s team the same year. And….Mr. FixIt was on that same team with Jeff! See what a teeny tiny world it is? Jeff and Julie joined us for dinner at Linda’s Wednesday night. Mr. FixIt hadn’t seen Jeff in forty-eight years. There were lots of stories and laughs and we all had a grand time.

We drove north out of Ridgway, through Montrose and Olathe (home of Olathe Sweet Corn) and on to Delta. I kept my eyes peeled for a place I found when I was on “The Grand Adventure”…that three month odyssey into the wilderness and backroads after Mr. Virgo died. It’s just a vacant lot on the main drag that’s filled with old, broken down cars and trucks. I don’t know why it attracted me that first time, but I couldn’t wait to show Mr. FixIt.

We were almost to our turnoff to head east over McClure Pass when I saw them. Red vehicles…either from the faded and flaked paint or the rust beneath. Some had their hoods strapped down. Others had holes in the glass from years of being the target of vandals or the errant stone thrown back in the day when they motored down the highways of old. Mr. FixIt caught his breath.

“Oh, wow! Would you look at that!” A smile crept across his face and his eyes sparkled like a little boy who just found the coolest treasure stuck on a dusty shelf. I immediately pulled over and threw the truck in park. We jumped out and walked up and down the rows of derelict automobiles resting on their rims because of long ago rotted and airless tires. We peeked in through hazy windows at the scraps of stuffing clinging to the old and rusted springs of the seats inside.

“Oh, look! Is that a Nash? A Studebaker? What’s this one? Ford used to make a Cortina. Do you suppose that’s what this one is?” This went on and on as we dodged the large mud holes formed from the afternoon storms we’ve been getting and made our way through the maze of cars.

As I looked at these rusted out hulks, I thought about beauty being in the eye of the beholder. I have to be perfectly honest…I’ve had some trepidation about the wedding this weekend. My daughter’s dad lives in a world I no longer belong to. He’s a doctor, and consequently lives like a doctor in a fine house. With fine friends. And a fine wife. Fine furnishings. Fine food. A fine life. I used to circle in that orbit, although I never really felt a part of that world, although I tried very hard to make myself fit in.

I have to admit. I’ve let myself be a little self conscious about my comfortable tummy and my jelly thighs and my granny-wing upper arms knowing ever so painfully how that was judged by those in that orbit. I’ve been praying about it a lot. And God whispered to me as I wandered amongst these vehicles what were once sleek and shiny and new.

“You don’t have to fear that world. You don’t have to feel bad for the way you fit in your body all comfy-like. You don’t have to concern yourself with what anyone else thinks of you….just remember I love you. Completely. Just the way you are. Just love them all the way I love you.”

You see…the very act of feeling self conscious and judged puts me in a place where I’m being the judge. I don’t know what’s in their hearts and minds. A lot of water has gone under the bridge since those days so long ago when I circled around that orbit. It’s a foreign land to me now. I have no reason to feel “less than” anyone. I can walk right in, on the arm of a man I adore and who adores me right back. We’ve created a life that fits us perfectly and we’re perfectly happy.

It’s all about love, trust, letting go, and letting God take care of the details. I’m comfortable in this life, this body…no matter where I go or who I run into. None of this is about me anyway. It’s totally about my daughter and her joy anyway. Yes…it’s all about love!

❤️

“Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. Do not be angry beyond measure, Lord; do not remember our sins forever. Oh, look on us, we pray, for we are all your people.” Isaiah 64:8-9 NIV

Abundance

Mon, 29 Jul 2019 01:30:54 -0600

“Heading into the Weminuche Wilderness”

Joyful abundance! Mr. FixIt is such a great traveler. I love showing him places he hasn’t seen. As a matter of fact, he told me the other night his neck hurts from swiveling back and forth, trying to take it all in. We arrived in Pagosa Springs on Friday afternoon. This is where Mr. Virgo and I lived in 2008. He was the General Manager for a 4200 acre luxury resort here and I did the marketing and catering. It was a short-lived position as our job was to try to turn their losses into profits and try as we might, it was not to be. This is the nature of being a fixer. If you can’t, they close and you lose your job. If you can, they sell and you lose your job. We didn’t really expect to be there long term.

Pagosa Springs is a gorgeous area and I enjoyed the rugged beauty of it. I did not like the short summer, long winter, and gobs of snow. So I was just as happy to get out of there and move on. Still, it is someplace I wanted Mr. FixIt to see and experience. We went out for a wonderful breakfast yesterday morning then headed to the backroads. Mr. Virgo and I used to spend every day off exploring the many dirt roads in the Weminuche Wilderness. This is where I came when I started my grief journey in Little TOW-Wanda. I carried strands of Mr. Virgo’s silver hair into the dense woods above Williams Lake and buried them at the base of a tree, affixing a cross to mark the spot.

We didn’t walk back into the woods yesterday. That wasn’t part of the deal. That was mine…my memory. As a matter of fact, as we drove deeper and deeper into the woods, I felt Mr. Virgo so strongly…as if he were gliding along with us. I told Mr. FixIt story after story. Here’s where we worked. Here’s where we shopped. Here’s where we loved to eat dinner. There’s the car wash where they had to unfreeze the doors so we could get out. That little bakery has the best pastries. This restaurant has the best coffee. My sweet husband held my hand and smiled and nodded and encouraged me to share because he knows this helps me heal and move forward.

Then…in the middle of the afternoon, we found out…great grandchild #3 is on the way!!! Another little boy…arriving in January!!!

My heart is about to explode! THIS!!! This is what I so very nearly lost in January 2000 when I overdosed. At the time, my world was so small, so dark, so difficult and I couldn’t see anything beyond that darkness. And now…look at this! My world is so blessed with such abundance and joy, I can hardly contain myself! Babies! The Wedding! My sweet husband! My wonderful family! My health! My heart!

Thank you…..thank you dearest Heavenly Father…for healing my family…for healing me…for giving me Mr. Virgo to show me I was worthy of earthly love…for giving me Mr. FixIt for helping me through the most difficult period of my life…and for this tremendous family, mine and his, that brings our numbers up and up and up! I’m so high on life, you have to scrape me off the clouds!

❤️

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV

One of These Things is Not Like the Other...a BABY!

Sun, 28 Jul 2019 01:30:28 -0600

“Clockwise, top left: Hollyhocks, Toes along the San Juan River, The view from Independence Pass, and….Baby Boo!!!!!”

It was a beautiful day for a baby! We had a leisurely breakfast and headed through Aspen and up Independence Pass. Mr. Fixit ooooohed and aaaaahed all the way. He’s never seen the likes of Colorado’s beauty. We stopped at the top of the pass and I was going to walk out to the windy point to take pictures but I could hardly catch my breath at 12,000+ feet elevation so I elected to stay in the car taking slow, deep breaths. I was glad to get down lower.

We stopped here and there. When I saw the sign for the turnoff to St. Elmo, I hung a right and went back in time to the 1800’s. It has probably been 40 years since I was there. We looked around at the old buildings and antiques. We sat on a bench and ate ice cream. And we finally climbed back in the truck and headed further south.

Along about Saguache…the phone rang and all I could hear was a tiny baby boy crying. “Wait….OMGosh!!! Is that a baby????? He’s here already????” Yes! Our tiny little Boo made his debut at around 5:30 eastern time weighing in at 6lbs13oz! And, of course….he’s perfect!!!

So, the mountains and the flowers, the river and the relaxing beside it….all pale in comparison to being a great grandma…again! What more could I tell you about today??? Thank you God, for protecting Mommy & Daddy and Nana’s little Boo!

❤️

“A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.”
John 16:21 NIV

There But For the Grace of God

Sat, 27 Jul 2019 01:30:20 -0600

“Yesterday’s mudslide west of Glenwood Springs.”

I had two epiphanies yesterday. The first was the full realization that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. On occasion, I wonder in the back of my mind if it was the right thing to do selling my house. I sometimes wonder if I should have kept it and rented it out for income. Then, we drove through Glenwood Springs yesterday…on a Friday afternoon…on Mountain Fair Weekend. It. Was. Insane!

The second epiphany was this: As we drove into town, it was early afternoon and I was going through a mental list of things to do in the area. I looked up at the gondola going up to the Glenwood Adventure Park and thought that would be fun. But the clouds coming over the Flat Tops Wilderness Area were very dark and I knew rain was coming. Scratch that idea. My next thought was to see if my friend Terri was around in New Castle so I could introduce her to Mr. Fixit. Again…I looked at those ominous clouds and I just got a cold chill. We would have to go through South Canyon to get there and I was definitely being told not to go there.

Instead, we turned south and headed to Carbondale. I couldn’t reach my friends who are camping in the area so I found, and took, the last hotel room available in the area. And believe me, they were charging premium prices for rooms. We are at the peak of tourist season and the hotels have to make hay while the sun shines. The rates are double…or more…what they were two years ago when we traveled through here at the same time of the year.

It wasn’t twenty minutes after I decided to turn south that an emergency road bulletin came over my phone. The very road I was contemplating going over was now completely impassable with a mud and rock slide in South Canyon. If I hadn’t heeded that nudge, we would have been sitting right in the middle of it!

On top of all the rest of the crazy traffic, the interstate was closed because of the mudslide and they directed the west bound traffic down through Carbondale…during rush hour…and the opening of the Carbondale Mountain Fair! It took us forty-five minutes to go two miles. I don’t ever want to live in that kind of congestion again!

“Traffic being rerouted by the mudslide.”

I don’t know if it’s the fact I’ve been living a peaceful life on five acres in West Virginia, or if it’s the fact that there are a gazillion people trying to cram into a small space and have fun, but I just couldn’t take the crowds and busy, and traffic, and noise. I know I did the right thing selling my house and I am exactly WHERE I am supposed to be…and with WHOM.

Today, we head over Independence Pass and down through the Collegiate Peaks. Mr. Fixit is truly enjoying the scenery and that makes me very happy!

❤️

““Consider carefully what you hear,” he continued. “With the measure you use, it will be measured to you—and even more.”
Mark 4:24 NIV

A Glimpse of Heaven

Thu, 25 Jul 2019 01:30:08 -0600

“A Glimpse of Heaven in the Colorado Night Sky”

I knew this would happen. I blinked and a month flew by. I left on this journey exactly four weeks ago. Time is such a weird thing after loss. On the one hand…it flies. On the other…it stands still. I got some quality time with my Colorado family. Mr. FixIt has been here almost two weeks already. The package I’ve been expecting for my brother arrived yesterday so now we can pack up and go off on a little adventure on our own before the wedding.

Grandma L. is still hanging in there. She is such a strong woman. She rallies and fades, rallies and fades. They moved her from her apartment at assisted living to a skilled nursing facility on Monday. She had a dream on Tuesday night. At least, she thinks it was a dream. She was lying in bed and her legs felt like stone. But then, she was standing up…strong and vital. She looked around it was so glorious. She saw a crevice and knew she was supposed to jump over it. She knew she COULD. She didn’t see Grandpa right off, but she knew she could find him easily. Instead, she decided to come back and tell us all how absolutely peaceful and grand it is. I love that she could see it all so clearly and she isn’t afraid.

I know she might pass away while we are gone, but I didn’t want to wear her out by adding to the number of visitors going to see her. There are other closer relatives who need to spend time with her. I was able to hug on her last Saturday at her birthday party and she absolutely knows how I feel about her. Her absence will leave a gaping hole for quite some time in the lives of those who knew and loved her.

We all went out for supper last night after they moved everything out of Grandma’s apartment at the assisted living place. There were twelve of us. As I walked back to the table with my food, I paused for a moment and gazed over this beautiful family my daughter was so fortunate to marry into. Another part of my bonus family. We are so blessed…with kids and their kids and us grandparents. We are becoming the matriarchs. I thought it would take longer.

Mr. FixIt and I will head out today for a week of touring the state. We were supposed to do this with the camper, but it’ll all work out without it. I love showing him places he’s never been! So…here we go on another road trip, y’all. Hang on!

❤️

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 NIV

Finding Hope

Mon, 22 Jul 2019 01:30:13 -0600

“God’s promise.”

There have been so many times in my life when I felt I had no hope. I didn’t know about spiritual warfare. I didn’t know the enemy was the one whispering the lies about me into my heart and mind. My life had long stretches of darkness and it wasn’t until I became a Christian that I started to see light at the end of the tunnel.

We went to church yesterday and took Little with us. We sat with our friend Rick and his wife Connie. The pastor is preaching a series on the elements and yesterday was about the wind. And hope. He focused on Ezekiel and the valley of the dry bones. As far as Ezekiel could see, the valley floor was covered with dry, sun-bleached bones. This represented the dried up, faithless Israelites. The Lord asked Ezekiel to speak to the dry bones. To tell them to listen to the Word of the Lord. When he did this, the bones started to rattle and come together. Tendons and muscle and skin formed and soon, they looked like you and me. But they had no life. No inner spark of hope. When Ezekiel told God he had only been halfway successful, God breathed his breath upon the bodies and they came alive and rose as a mighty army.

I know what those bodies felt like. I was dry and sun-bleached in my bones for such a long time. And, when I surrendered, God blew His breath…His Spirit…into me and I rose up like a mighty warrior. Whenever I begin to feel less hopeful, I look for the wind. Mr. FixIt remarked the other day…it never seems terribly hot here in Colorado. Even when the temperature nears triple digits. The reason is two-fold. The humidity is low. And there is always a breeze. You can feel it across the hairs on your arms. And when a wisp of your hair blows across your face. You can see it in the trees and grasses of the field. You can watch it even high above the earth as the clouds in the sky scud along.

When I look for the wind, I can see the breath of God as he works over us…his children. Even when I don’t see God’s promises in my current circumstances, I know He is there…working in the background. Even in my darkest moments…during the years of depression and the overdose, during a painful divorce, during the grief I suffered after losing Mr. Virgo…He was feverishly working to turn these terrible situations into something He could use for His Glory.

Finding hope in today’s world can be so terribly difficult. It is easy to lose hope and see no way out. If you can just remember to feel the wind on your skin and focus on some good thing in your life, you can ignite hope within your soul. Even the smallest ember can be fanned into a flame when you seek and use the Breath of God.

❤️

“The hand of the Lord was on me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, “Son of man, can these bones live?” I said, “Sovereign Lord, you alone know.” Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.’ ” So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to it, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Come, breath, from the four winds and breathe into these slain, that they may live.’ ” So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet—a vast army. Then he said to me: “Son of man, these bones are the people of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.’ Therefore prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: My people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel. Then you, my people, will know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the Lord have spoken, and I have done it, declares the Lord.’ ””
Ezekiel 37:1-14 NIV

Hand it Over

Sat, 20 Jul 2019 01:30:30 -0600

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. 2 Timothy 1:7”

I have struggled with anxiety all of my life. It’s so, so frustrating because I know what it is. I know the feelings are real, but they stem from thoughts. I have a whole toolbox of techniques that I’ve used over the years…some helpful, some decidedly harmful, all of them ineffective to a large degree. It wasn’t until I started studying the Bible looking for answers that I have begun to find some semblance of relief.

I was reading a devotional about anxiety and fear this week and came across something I had never read before but it really struck home. It talked about a secondary effect of anxiety becoming “a fear of fear itself”. That sums it up so distinctly. I really HATE feeling afraid…to the point of fearing the fear. Suddenly, it just all seemed so ridiculous.

The Bible talks a lot about fear and anxiety. So much so that it is apparent these feelings are prevalent in all humans to some degree. For years…decades…I felt weird about my anxiety. Like there was something wrong with me. That I was somehow flawed and no one else had these feelings. Knowing I’m not alone…even Joshua and Mary and countless others were told by God to not be afraid. That is so comforting to me.

I am excited about the upcoming wedding in two weeks. I’m thrilled for my daughter and her happiness. And, it’s hard to tease out the difference between the butterflies of excitement and the quaking of anxiety. It affects me physically the same and my mind can easily take off on a wild tangent which isn’t anywhere I really want to go.

This most recent Bible study I read says whenever the first feelings of anxiety or fear begin to come into your mind, think of a praise instead. Turn on praise music. Sing a praise song. Thank Jesus for waking you up this morning. What I’ve been doing is telling God about all the beautiful things we’re going to do the day of the wedding. I’ve been telling Him about the pretty dresses the girls are wearing. And all the people we’re going to see that we love and don’t get to see often enough. I’ve invited Him to come along with me and to be there right alongside each of us.

There’s so much in life that can change plans at the last minute. There are illnesses in families or some other unforeseen circumstances that you can’t predict. It doesn’t help to be nervous or worried, but it’s hard not to be. As Jesus said, God takes care of the birds and the fields…surely He’ll take good care of us…even in our worst moments.

I hand things over…repeatedly. And, it does get easier and easier to remember to give it to God first before I let my mind jump on the worry train and go off the rails. There will always be something you can worry about. That’s how the enemy steals your joy. And, there are situations in life that you can’t help but let affect you. Things like watching a loved one decline. Losing someone or something special. An unexpected diagnosis or financial difficulty. God wants to walk those paths with you. Reach out your hand and take His. He’s so much bigger than anything that troubles you.

❤️

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 4:6-7 NIV

Mother Cabrini Shrine

Tue, 16 Jul 2019 01:30:27 -0600

“The view from Mother Cabrini Shrine is stunning!”

The other night when I picked Mr. FixIt up from the airport, I was accelerating to get on the interstate when the transmission made an eerie slipping sound. I turned to him and said, “Did you hear that?” He did…it wasn’t just me! I had heard this same noise several times and I was really worried something was wrong with the transmission. But, Mr. FixIt has been in that truck hundreds of times and never heard it.

Before I even got up yesterday, he and Ben had looked up the number for a reputable transmission shop nearby and as soon as I had a cup of coffee, I called them up. They told me to bring the truck right in and they would check it for me. The transmission fluid was low and they added a whole quart to it. Then the manager of the shop drove the truck around and came back. He said it made every sound it was supposed to and no slips. No surprise there. However, when I got out and drove it, I was pleasantly surprised to feel and hear how smoothly it was shifting, so I think we may have fixed the problem. When we prepared to leave, I asked how much I owed them and they said, “Not a thing. You have a great trip!”

If you need a good transmission place in Arvada, Colorado…go to Jerrod’s!

Since we suddenly had a free day in front of us, we ran to Starbucks for a cup of coffee then headed to the mountains. I was thinking of taking Mr. FixIt to Red Rocks Amphitheater, but I could see dark clouds starting to form in the west. I decided instead to turn into Mother Cabrini Shrine to explore instead.

It has been a full forty years at the least since I’ve been up there. I once went up there and just sat in the field near the shrine to gaze out over downtown Denver. I haven’t explored when improvements were built there, but I don’t remember all those steps. My memory had a path going up and you could walk out into the field surrounding the statue of Jesus at the top of the hill. But, like I said…it has been four decades since I was there so I’m not sure my memory is accurate.

I was surprised the chapel didn’t have candles to light in memory of someone. But there was a grotto below and a much smaller chapel with candles. I lit four candles for special people and said prayers for all of you. Then we went down to the springs. When Mother Cabrini purchased this land for a retreat for orphans, she told others she got it so cheap because there was no water. When she explored the land, she struck a rock with a staff, it broke open, and fresh spring water flowed out from it. We each drank a glass of this miracle water and thanked God for the blessing of the water in such an arid place.

Mother Cabrini is the first American to be canonized as a Saint. There is a small museum on the property with personal articles that belonged to her. There were also religious relics on display. You could even take a free third degree relic which was a laminated card with a tiny piece of fabric which had come into contact with Mother Cabrini’s clothing somewhere along the line. It was all quite fascinating.

We left just as it started to sprinkle and headed to Olive Garden for an early supper. Then back to Ben and Sue’s. It was a fun day and a good workout with all the steps up to the Sacred Heart statue. This photo was taken about halfway up and if you zoom in, you can just make out the tall buildings of Downtown Denver in the distance. Day one of exploring is under our belts!

❤️

“"Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven. "Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”
Matthew 6:1-4 ESV

Revisiting Memories

Sat, 13 Jul 2019 01:30:54 -0600

“Daughter #2…Marching to her own drum!”

When Daughter #2 was thirteen years old, she and I took off for a three week road trip. It was epic. She was not only in that early teenager mode. We were also working on repairing the damage done from years of depression and too many prescriptions and martinis…not to mention the overdose. It took a lot out of our relationship.

When I arrived in Denver this visit, the ultimate goal is the wedding. My baby is getting married. My little Moon Pie. Only, she’s a full grown woman…out on her own…thriving…dancing to her own drum, as always. We saw each other the day after I got here and spent several hours visiting and dining out. She made me promise we would do one special thing…just the two of us…before the wedding.

She wanted to go antiquing.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Antiquing? This poor kid was dragged, kicking and screaming, into every antique store in West Virginia, I think. And several between there and Colorado. I loved going to antique stores. She did not. So, this was new. I asked her what brought on this miraculous transformation.

“I don’t know. Just…suddenly, I find myself looking at antiques online. For fun.”

Ladies and gentleman…there IS life after adolescence!!!

So, yesterday was our antiquing adventure. We started out by having lunch with Daughter #1, Big, and Little. Oh…if you have children, you know what that did to my heart…sitting there with my Colorado kids! ❤️melt After lunch, Daughter #2 and I went to the Brass Armadillo off I-70 and Kipling.

We walked in and she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open, and she gasped.

“This place is HUGE!”

Yes, my girl…it is!

We wandered around for three hours. She kept grabbing my arm and pulling me over to see this or that. Lots of oooohs and aaaahs and wows. Several times she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight and thanked me so much for doing this with her. That’s when I realized…this was SO much more than going to see a bunch of old stuff.

This was a celebration. Of healing. Of love. Of warm memories shared. Even of forgiveness. This was a bonding ritual…something only she and I could share as the wedding rapidly approaches and her life is forever changed. This was incredibly special. And we enjoyed every minute of it.

We didn’t get to see 1/4th of the store before we were both fried. We left arm in arm and headed out to the truck. I drove her back to her car. As she prepared to leave she reached over and kissed me on the cheek.

“Thank you, mamacita. That was so much fun!”

You’re welcome, Moon Pie.

❤️

“Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.”
Psalm 127:3 NIV

Saying Goodbye to TOW-Wanda!

Fri, 12 Jul 2019 01:30:35 -0600

“TOW-Wanda…being towed away to her new life with a boy.”

Night before last, I put the camper on Facebook Marketplace at 10:00. It sold in thirty minutes! And, there were thirty people right behind the guy I sold it to, ready to step up and pay cash. I was shocked. I was forthright in explaining the camper needed work or would be perfect for a backyard she shed, writer’s nook, guest quarters, or kids playhouse. Still, the price and “camper” were enough to bring everyone out of the woodwork seeking a deal.

The first person who said he wanted it was a guy who just got married on the 8th. He was so excited to get the camper, he was knowledgeable and fully understood what it was going to take to get her fixed. He wanted to fix up TOW-Wanda so he could take his son camping. He took a picture and sent it to his dad. Then he FaceTimed with his son and I could hear their excitement.

This guy knew campers. He knew what it would take to really fix her right. I am so glad about that because I was worried someone who didn’t really know about them might get it and not heed my warnings and try to tow it to the mountains. We had a long talk. We negotiated a price that was fair and acceptable to us both. I told him, I could see God’s hand all over this. For me…to learn a valuable lesson about inspecting campers well before you buy them. And for him…to affordably get into a camper that he has the skills to fix so that he can be a good dad to his son.

Yes…I lost money on the deal. But, no one got hurt…just my pride. And there’s a little boy out there who is going to be one happy camper when he gets to go out in the mountains with his dad. There is no price tag on the making of a man.

❤️

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

Hail, Hail...The Gang’s All Here!

Fri, 05 Jul 2019 01:30:30 -0600

“The beauty of sunshine and lilies.”

Daughter #2 and I got a chance to spend a few hours together yesterday. We had coffee at the house then went shopping at Target. Man, that store has changed since the last time I went there. I used to shop Target all the time, but we don’t have one anywhere near where we live in West Virginia. After shopping at Walmart all these years, Target looks like an upscale department store.

We went out to breakfast at Sam’s No. 3…a wonderful diner in Cherry Creek that has the most extensive menu I think I have ever seen. Eggs Benedict was my choice yesterday and it was divine. If you ever go to Denver and get to spend any time there, you really should go.

We had a big family gathering with those who were in town yesterday. Lots of food and homemade ice cream. The fireworks were going off all around us. And Mother Nature provided some of her own! We had two big storms blow through with a tornado watch and lots of hail. It did succeed in cooling things off immensely, which was very nice.

I showed the girls the dresses I’ve bought that I could wear to the wedding and we all agreed on one. Also, I gave them the quilt I made for their wedding gift and they loved it! It was a beautiful day with my Colorado family.

❤️

“Listen to your father, who gave you life, and do not despise your mother when she is old.”
Proverbs 23:22 NIV

The Mother-Daughter Dance

Tue, 02 Jul 2019 01:30:51 -0600

“I am a Happy Camper!”

I danced with my mother. Not literally…but figuratively we went round and round and round. She always knew I loved her and I knew she loved me right back. I made sure of that. But we aggravated the heck out of each other more than I care to admit. We were still moving in that circle when she died rather suddenly at the age of seventy-eight. By that time, my own daughters were well on their way to dancing with me.

My older daughter was very pregnant with my mother’s first great-grandchild and couldn’t come to her grandma’s funeral. I didn’t bring my younger daughter either because she was only nine and in school. I traveled to mom’s funeral alone half the way, meeting up with my Aunt Rosie in the Charlotte Airport for the last flight in.

I have good girls. They are as different as night and day and are often like oil and water, but deep down they love each other because they are sisters. I wasn’t always a very good mother to them. There was that long stretch when I was deeply depressed and nearly non-functional. I drank too much and I took too many prescription drugs. When I overdosed, it ripped the fabric of our relationship and I feared I would never, ever get them back.

We danced our own dance. We went round and round and we didn’t know how to reach each other. I hurt them in ways I couldn’t even begin to fathom till I got well. Then I had to rebuild their trust in me. It was hard, painful work. There were times I was absolutely certain they hated me. But they didn’t really. I wasn’t the only one who had to learn who this new version of me was.

I watch Daughter #1 with her kids. I watch her face some of the same issues I faced and she handles them so much better than I did because she has a wonderful, stable marriage she isn’t also struggling to fix. I love watching her with the girls. Big is learning to drive. She is tall and athletic…a swimmer. She is bright and accomplished and dedicated. Little is part mini-me…part mini-mom. She is petite and eclectic…artistic and sensitive…bright and compassionate. She is a little shooting star.

Last night, I sat at swim practice with Daughter #1 and talked for a couple of hours. It was the first time in a long time that I felt like I didn’t have to hold my breath out of fear I’d say or do the wrong thing and not be the mom I should be. That is baggage I am happy to set down. I knitted while we chatted. There was a warm, easy acceptance that flowed between us and I realized I could relax now. We’re ok. It was a long storm, but we weathered it. We’re better with each other. My heart felt full.

Her kids are older now. She’s had some experience with life that she hadn’t had back when I let them down. I think she gets me a little better these days. We’re all a little older, a little wiser, a little softer. I think now, our dance is sweeter.

❤️

“"Behold, everyone who uses proverbs will use this proverb about you: 'Like mother, like daughter.'” Ezekiel 16:44 ESV

America’s Bread Basket is Baking!

Sun, 30 Jun 2019 01:30:10 -0600

“Clockwise from top left: My rig in the summer sun in Kansas, the long straight stretch that is Kansas…look how green!, my digital laser thermometer that I use to check my hub temperatures at every stop, me looking decidedly fresher in the AM than I was by evening!”

You know you are getting into farm and ranch land when you start seeing billboards advertising bovine genetics and DEKALB seed corn. I left the Lazy Day Campground in Danville, Missouri yesterday morning about 8:00. It was a very long, very HOT day. A section of I-70 was closed at Kansas City so I took the recommended detour. I recognized it as the route I usually take anyway to avoid downtown. There is one interchange on the interstate near the city where you have to get from the right hand side onramp to a left hand side exit in less than 1/4 mile. Pulling a camper makes that a real challenge, let me tell you!!! At least it wasn’t with big TOW-Wanda on a Friday night at rush hour. We have to look for the little things!

When I was emptying the tanks on the camper before I left yesterday, it wasn’t 8:00 yet and the sun would take the hide right off of you. The temperature quickly soared to the high 90’s and by the time I was halfway through Kansas, it was 100. The low was only expected to go down to 80 so I stopped and got a hotel room. When I first got in the room, I cranked up the air conditioner and stretched out on the bed. I texted Mr. FixIt and said, “I am NEVER doing this again!!!” He texted back that I don’t have to. I’m holding him to it!

Ok, it was the third day. It was hard. It was hot. I was tired and probably a little hungry and dehydrated. And knowing I have over 350 more miles to go had me feeling really sorry for myself there for a few minutes. But, once I rested for a while and got something to eat and drink, I felt a ton better. When I stop tonight, it’s going to be at my son-in-law’s parents’ house so I’ll be with family. It’s going to take me a week to rest up and acclimate to the altitude. Mr. FixIt will join me on the 13th so that time will pass quickly.

I had a lot of time to think about this as I was driving yesterday. I don’t like being this far away from Mr. FixIt. I thought about that from every angle. I asked myself if it was co-dependency. I don’t think it’s that at all. I do all kinds of things without him and I don’t need to be attached at the hip. I talked with my dear friend Deneene about this last night. She lost her husband unexpectedly about a year after Mr. Virgo died. She is also recently remarried. We decided it’s not co-dependency at all. It’s the fact that we KNOW what can happen and how quickly it can come. I don’t think it’s that I’m doing something without him. It’s that I’m doing something so far away from him and I can’t get to him quickly. THAT I don’t like at all.

Still, it is fun in many ways. I’ve seen some beautiful countryside. The sky was blue and wide open. I’ve forgotten what that looks like living in West Virginia. (I took the picture while driving but my phone was in a cradle and all I did was touch the screen. No eyes off the road for me!) I don’t have anything pressing to do once I get to Denver so I can relax and catch up on my rest, keep myself really hydrated to counteract the altitude, knit, write, and visit with my Colorado peeps. I could not believe how green Kansas is. They had the same long, drawn out, wet spring everyone else had. It is so hard to believe the temperature is in the high 90’s in Colorado and one week ago they had two feet of snow. Crazy weather!

Oh, see that picture bottom right? That’s my digital laser thermometer. After burning up an axle in Indiana two summer ago, I check my hubs religiously…every time I stop and get out of the truck. I know you can just put your hand down there and feel if it’s hot, but how hot is too hot and if it IS that hot, you’ll burn the heck out of your hand. I keep watch on it and it’s always between 100-110. That’s perfect. If it goes up, it means the bearings need grease.

Well, I’m on the last leg of this Grand Adventure. The last leg of the first part of it, anyway! It’s just me and Jesus…making our way west!

❤️

“….“The Lord watch between you and me, when we are out of one another’s sight.”

Genesis 31:49 ESV

#Separation, #Marriage, #Adventure

Travel: Lotsa Learnin’ Goin’ On Here!

Sat, 29 Jun 2019 01:30:17 -0600

“I use a French press a lot when I camp. I have a manual grinder, too.”

So, yesterday morning I took my time waking up. I do that when I travel. My Bible app has a year long study where you read the whole bible in a year. With the trip to Florida, being sick, and getting ready for this trip, I was thirteen days behind. I don’t like to get behind on that one because there’s a good deal to read every day. I spent a little extra time reading while I enjoyed a tasty cup of coffee. I chatted with Mr. FixIt for a while. I finally got on the road about 10:00.

The drive was uneventful. I usually drive in silence because I do my best thinking when I drive. But I wanted to listen to music so I pulled into a rest area and tried to figure out how to connect my phone to the sound system on the truck. It took me a few tries but soon I was bebopping down the highway listening to some praise music.

Around 3:00, I pulled into another rest area and stretched out in front of my hillbilly air conditioner again. When I was almost to St. Louis, Mr. FixIt called. We were chatting as the GPS took me around the city. Still…it was 5:00…on a Friday…in June! Heck of a time to go through there. I wasn’t on the phone long because I needed to concentrate.

Suddenly, two things happened. I noticed the sky got really dark all of a sudden. And, Mavis…my GPS persona…announce I-70 was closed. Closed? Are you kidding me? How do you close a whole interstate. I had to make some quick decisions but the weather did it for me. The sky opened and I was suddenly driving through what looked like a car wash.

I quickly pulled off the highway and into a Denny’s parking lot. I ran through the rain and jumped in the camper. I pulled my vegetable lasagna out of my 12v slow cooker and ate dinner while I watched both an amazing lightning show as well as a band of bright red storms march toward me on the Weather Channel radar.

I looked through the Good Sam Camping Guide and found a campground on the other side of St. Louis. I called and they had one site left. I should have called yesterday morning but I honestly forgot it was Friday. I seldom make reservations when I travel and so far I have never lacked a place to stay.

Before long, the storm was past me and I got back behind the wheel. The detour took about an hour because it was bumper to bumper stop and go traffic for 19 miles. I arrived at the campground and registered. They showed me to my site and it’s perfectly lovely. When I was at Walmart yesterday, I bought a replacement shower head for my camper. I installed it after I arrived last night. Easy peasy. And, the hot water heater worked! Imagine that! We hadn’t even tried it out yet.

As soon as I could, I jumped in that teeny tiny little shower. It was easier to FIX the shower than it was to TAKE one! Once I was all done, I felt like a million bucks. If you look at the map, I am almost exactly at the halfway point. That’s great…but I still have a long way to go! I’m not going to try to make it to Colorado tomorrow. I’ll take it easy and stop in western Kansas or eastern Colorado.

Learned a lot of things today. 1) Make reservations if your camping on a Friday. 2) Pay closer attention to the calendar. 3) Check further ahead for weather and road conditions. 4) Changing a shower head is easy. 5) Listening to praise music is a great prep tool for stressful circumstances!

Enjoy your Saturday!

❤️

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”
James 1:2-4 ESV

Happy Birthday!

Thu, 13 Jun 2019 01:30:17 -0600

“Happy Birthday, to ME!”

June is my birthday month.

I love June. I love my birthday. So I just combine them and celebrate the whole month!

After sleeping twelve hours straight on Tuesday night, Mr. FixIt and I went down to the beach and walked then played in the pool for a while. After lunch, I took a three hour nap. Seeing a trend there? It’s all about ME ‘cause it’s my birthday month!

Just as I woke up, Mr. FixIt walked in to make sure I didn’t sleep too long and not be able to sleep later. Then he asked me that question every woman longs to hear.

“How would you like to go eat ice cream for dinner?”

Back off girls…I saw him first!

Yes, ladies…I have married the perfect man. Not only does he celebrate my birthday with me for a month…but he also takes me out for an ice cream dinner. Sexiest man alive.

After a dinner of butter pecan in a chocolate dipped waffle cone, we drove around. We shopped at a couple of Mr. FixIt’s stores. We found Aldi’s and picked up a few groceries. Wonderful strawberries for a dollar.

A simple day…Birthday Eve.

Today is my actual birthday.

Sixty-six. Wow. Why does it sound so much older than sixty-five?

Some of the grandchildren were over Monday evening before we left. I told them how old I was going to be.

“Sixty-six! Can you believe that? It has been half a century since I was sixteen! Half a century!!! You know that’s fifty years, right???”

My wise grandson-in-law said, “Did it go fast?”

How do you answer that? Yes…it flew by in a nanosecond! No, it lasted forever! It’s both.

It’s the coolest thing…to be sixteen plus fifty. I was sixteen in 1969…the summer of love. “God Bless Pink Summers ‘69!” That’s how my best friend signed her letters when she was off at a summer internship. Woodstock. Rock and Roll. Hippies. Bell bottoms. Long hair.

I thought I was free.

I was so wrong.

It took living those fifty years to actually BECOME free. Funny how that works. I’d hate to have gone through all that and not learned the beautiful, hard, gritty, wonderful lessons involved.

Sixty-six. Nope, that doesn’t bother me a bit.

I’m a crone now. I love that!

Happy Birthday to ME!

❤️

““ ‘ “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.” ’” Numbers 6:24-26 NIV

Finding my Father

Wed, 05 Jun 2019 01:30:35 -0600

“I don’t remember having a loving relationship with my dad…ever.”

Father’s Day is coming soon. I don’t remember ever seeing a photo of my dad holding me. I don’t remember him offering his hand to help me walk. I don’t recall any kissed booboos or falling asleep in his lap. I do remember him bouncing my brother and me on his knees to the tune of Bonanza when it aired on Sunday nights. I remember watching fireworks from the car three blocks away from the park. I remember going fishing with him…once. I wouldn’t touch the worm. He was done.

My relationship with my dad was complicated. Like every little girl, I sought his approval. It never came. I sought his love. He didn’t know how to give it. He never saw me sing on stage. He never watched me perform on the balance beam. As my brother and I aged, Dad became more and more lost in a bottle of Four Roses.

By the time I was an antagonistic teenager, our relationship had devolved into angry shouting matches and stony silence. He became “the man who lived upstairs”. I married and left home with the first boy who would have me and I didn’t look back. By the time I was twenty-one, to my mother’s great relief, they were divorced.

Dad went back to his roots and moved into a trailer on his sister’s farm. As a widow, she was extremely careful of her reputation and when dad had to be driven home from the bar one night, she stormed into his trailer the next morning and struck him on the bottom of the feet with an iron skillet. She informed him there would never be another incident like that or he would find himself out on his ear. He ended up going on the wagon and found Jesus and married a childhood friend.

I never really knew that man…the one all my cousins knew. The one all the town knew. The one who went to church every Sunday and became the model citizen…to everyone outside. But inside? Our relationship stayed exactly the same. His modus operandi was “blame and shame”. I tried. Lord knows I tried to have a relationship with him. But, in order to do that, I needed to talk about what had happened and he wasn’t interested.

If he would have just once said “I’m sorry, Sis.” Oh, I learned to forgive him because he did what he knew, but that apology would have gone a long way toward mending my broken heart. Instead, I married father replacements. First, the stern disciplinarian. Then the busy doctor who couldn’t express his true feelings. Then Mr. Virgo came along and healed that spot in my heart that needed to know I was loved and cherished and….wanted.

Still, I remember my therapist telling me one time, “You know, Ginny…you’re never going to find your father’s love.” I was bereft. It was as if the final page was read and the book snapped shut. The End!

What do I do now?

I went on. I put a bandaid over the spot where I wanted dad-memories in my heart and went on. After all, I was an adult. I was functioning as best I could with what I had to work with. It was ok, I said to myself. I don’t need a father. I don’t need anybody. Mr. Virgo was the only man I really let in and even he didn’t get to see every room.

Then…my dad died.

Then…Mr. Virgo died.

I was never, ever going to feel that unconditional love again.

I was wrong. I found love again…deep, true, lasting love with Mr. FixIt. And, I was a Christian. I had God. He was my Heavenly Father…but, I still wanted a DAD!

This has been on my heart a lot in the last few weeks. And, just like clockwork, here came the Holy Spirit to minister to that sore place within me. Recently, every sermon has been some variation of this theme.

“Your dad wasn’t there for you. It’s ok. You don’t need him. He was here to do what only he could do and it hurt. But here….I’ve got some really great news for you.

“God IS your dad! He loves you…absolutely…unconditionally. He CRAVES when you come sit with him and lay your head on his shoulder. He WANTS you to take his hand and walk with him. He LOVES it when you talk to him and tell him how your day went and share worries of your mind. He DESIRES you to trust him like the dad that he is. He NEEDS you to know he isn’t ever going to leave you….not ever!”

Wow! How awesome is that? Knowing this…I mean really deep down in my bones KNOWING this…has healed some place deep inside my heart. I don’t have to look for my dad anywhere but up. When I want to hear him talking to me, I read the words he left for me to follow. When I don’t please him, he lets me know. The most important thing he wants me to know is I am the joy of his heart. The object of his greatest longing.

Finally….finally I found my father….in my Father.

❤️

“The same way a loving father feels toward his children— that’s but a sample of your tender feelings toward us, your beloved children, who live in awe of you.” Psalms 103:13 TPT

Field of Dreams

Tue, 04 Jun 2019 01:30:23 -0600

“My Field of Dreams.”

I know, I know…how many pictures of a field am I going to post here, right? Oh…however many times I am moved by the view, I suppose…which is daily. Every day, every hour, the view changes with the light. This was taken Sunday afternoon after the heavy rain and hail that swept through the surrounding area. I love the way the sky is slightly pink as the sun begins to set over the hill far to the left there. The air is soft with humidity and brushes the edges of the woods with a velvety glow.

I have a lifelong sister/friend who asked me yesterday if there wasn’t family who could come and mow this for us. After all…I’m 65. I smiled at her love and concern for me. Then I told her what I tell everyone who asks why I still mow. First, 65…nay, 66 in nine days…is young, if you ask me. Second, this is my home, too. Of course I’m going to work on it. Also, seriously…all I do is sit on a riding mower and drive around and around with headphones on listening to rock and roll music. How hard is that?

My biggest reason is this…I spent my entire life praying to have exactly what I have now. I have so much joy in my heart, a few hours driving around cutting grass is the smallest of prices to pay. I truly love it! That being said, my shoulders are tired and sore when I’m done. I wish for a hot shower and a masseuse…only one of which is readily available. But it’s a good sore…a good tired. And I sleep really soundly when I’ve worked hard.

I mowed the big fields yesterday while Mr. FixIt was in town working. We have a lot to get done before we head out camping on Thursday. According to the weather report, we are in for a cool, cloudy weekend with the possibility of rain showers. That’s ok…we’ll have plenty to keep us busy under the canopies. I bought walls for the canopy that will hold heat in. Gail has her canopy, as well. Camping is fun, no matter what!

❤️

“Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it. Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them; let all the trees of the forest sing for joy.” Psalm 96:11-12 NIV

Gracious Conversations

Wed, 29 May 2019 01:30:27 -0600

“Let your conversations be gracious and attractive.”

I have been trying to be more conscious of my conversations of late. I try to steer clear of gossip…listening or repeating. I try to discern the difference between sharing concern or inquiring of someone’s wellbeing and telling tales out of school. I have to be honest…I haven’t always done the best at that.

I’m a storyteller, but I don’t want to be known as a gossip. So when I have conversations with others, I seek to be gracious. I do have my closest confidants with whom I can be brutally honest, but still be gracious.

It is especially difficult to be gracious in today’s sociopolitical climate. People can be truly offensive without necessarily intending to be. And, the same goes for us. We can easily offend others without being aware of it.

Social media is an excellent place to practice gracious conversation, but it isn’t always easy. I am a co-administrator for our class page on Facebook. I asked that someone be made co-administrator simply because we are aging. So many of our friends were dying, I thought if we lost our administrator, we’d lose control of the page and it’s really wonderful to catch up with our friends there.

I received a message from one of my classmates yesterday informing me someone had placed one of those political articles of questionable origin on our class page. She was gracious and expressed her dismay that something so obviously intended to be divisive had been posted there and would I please remove it.

I went to the page and didn’t do anything more than read the headlines and immediately removed the post. Then, I created a post of my own and said I had removed a political post. I reminded our classmates that there are plenty of pages that support those kinds of posts and it didn’t matter to me whose side it was on…it was not appropriate for our class page.

I reminded them we are only “Big Reds” when we are on that page. It’s intended to keep our classmates informed of upcoming events. All too often these days it is where we inform the class that someone has died. It’s a wonderful place to reconnect with old friends we haven’t seen or heard from…sometimes since graduation.

We can stop the political diatribe from amping up by being gracious in our conversations. And, when that doesn’t work, we can disconnect and/or turn a deaf ear to the offender. Just because someone is baiting us, doesn’t mean we need to bite. I wish it were so simple always. I know it’s not. But it felt good to say, “Look, we’ll have none of that here.”

I was camping with a group of women a couple of years ago. Someone went on a rant about politics AND religion…in the SAME conversation. They were making disparaging comments about Jesus. Our hostess stopped her cold by saying, “I love the Lord, and I will not sit here and listen to any such talk. Let’s change the subject, please.” Simple, honest, gracious, and to the point. The subject changed and that was the end of it. I was very proud. And emboldened to have my own gracious conversations.

Practicing grace and kindness elevates our spirits. It lifts us above the ugliness that can creep in. Go out and practice gracious conversations this week. See what a difference it makes in your stress level.

❤️

“let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance—” Proverbs 1:5 NIV

Praying for Others

Tue, 28 May 2019 01:30:31 -0600

“Praying for others is the key to freedom.”

As time passes, my daughter’s wedding is looming in the forefront of my mind. What to wear? Well, I’ve bought three dresses…so far. It depends what suits me that day, I think. The event seems to be fast and loose so I’m not terribly worried about that part.

As I headed into this, the idea of being the mother of the bride…for the last time really…filled me with delicious anticipation mixed with bits of trepidation. Her father and I have mended a lot of fences over the years and I am so proud of the way we can demonstrate good behaviors for our kids and grandkids. Long gone are the angry jabs at each other over a love gone awry.

I overcame the majority of the pain, anger, and resentment through fervent prayer and good therapy. Prayer was my tool. I prayed my family would be healed. I prayed the father of my child would find joy and happiness with the woman he chose. The more I prayed for HIM, the happier I became.

That being said, the enemy loves to sneak in and tell me lies. He loves to remind me I’ve gained a few pounds and my ex-husband will notice. He loves to make me second guess myself and be self conscious of my body and my dress choice. He loves to whisper in my ear and tell me if I would have been a better wife, that great big estate my ex owns could have been mine.

Lies. They are all lies. I could have been the best wife in the history of the universe and the marriage could have still fallen apart. I’m not taking 100% of that one. I’ll comfortably accept my 50%. If I even consider my weight as being something my ex would judge me for, I’m setting myself up for failure and disappointment.

Here’s the thing…if we look for something, we WILL find it. If I look for judgement, I’ll feel judged. If I look for criticism, I’ll feel criticized…even if it’s subconsciously. And, as soon as I feel those things, I’ll react defensively. That whole scenario is a totally no win situation. Nothing good can come from that.

Recently I read about a technique for recognizing the cycle of anxiety and stopping it in its tracks. The premise is, as soon as you feel the very first sensations of anxiety…even if it’s just the thought of feeling anxious…you pull back and become the observer. Recognize what is happening and say to yourself…”Hmmmm, that’s interesting. I’m having a feeling that stemmed from a thought. It is just a thought.” Then, you picture surrounding that thought in a bubble, reach out, and poke it with your finger.

Poof!

When you can recognize what anxiety really is, it’s much easier to step back, give it a poke, and send it on it’s way. It has been working quite well in the last few months. One would think, at the ripe age of 66 (in about three weeks), I’d have gotten a handle on anxiety long before now. Sometimes it’s the fear of having an anxiety attack that brings it on. It’s crazy…but it’s quite real.

This wedding isn’t about me. His house isn’t about me. My weight isn’t even completely about me in that it was caused by taking steroids twice this year. I’m the only me I have. I am the only mom my kids have. The only Nana for my grands. I am my husband’s queen. He will think I am scrumptious no matter what I’m wearing or where I sit.

This is such a relief…to let go of fear. The fear of rejection. The fear of not being good enough. The fear of doing or saying something wrong.

I am enough. I have always been enough.

Dang…I love my sixties!

❤️

“But the moment one turns to the Lord with an open heart, the veil is lifted and they see. Now, the “Lord” I’m referring to is the Holy Spirit, and wherever he is Lord, there is freedom.”
2 Corinthians 3:16-17 TPT

Memorial Day 2019

Mon, 27 May 2019 01:30:40 -0600

“He was a soldier. He was a son.”

They called him Sonny. He was their bright ray of sunshine. Smart, sensitive, talented, destined to go far. When Grandma and Pop-Pop got the telegram that their Sonny was gone, part of them died in that moment as well. People said they were never the same. I wouldn’t know what they were like before. I was not yet two when Sonny’s plane went down.

Sometimes I think I remember him. But then I realize it’s his pictures and the loving stories told about him that made my Uncle Sonny alive for me. I was told he loved me. He told my mom he wanted a picture of me on a bearskin rug in my “all-together”…in other words, a chubby baby with a hundred fat rolls, buns up on a blanket. This was back in the days when something like that could be done without thinking the person admiring the photo is a pedophile.

Mom complied and I was told he kept that photo in the cockpit of the plane. But, mom told me a lot of things that turned out to be untrue. For instance, she said he was shot down by Russians. In 1955. Over Landstuhl Air Base in Germany. She said grandma was comforted when she received his personal effects and his wallet didn’t smell like smoke. She was comforted that her boy didn’t burn.

Many years later, when the internet was new and I was helping my mom with her beloved genealogy, I started digging into the crash that took Uncle Sonny’s life. I think the only thing I had to work with at the time was a dial up modem and CompuServe. After meticulously searching, I came up with an aviation archaeologist. He specialized in finding reports on old plane crashes. I believe I paid him $40 and a few weeks later, I received a thick packet in the mail.

The archaeologist came up with the official Air Force report of the crash and in the process of reading it and asking questions, I got a lot of answers. First, he definitely was not shot down by the Russians. Secondly, pilots do not fly with personal effects, meaning…neither his wallet nor my picture accompanied him in the cockpit that fateful day. That was information I didn’t share with the rest of the family. I don’t remember if my Grandma was still living at this time or not. There’s just some things you don’t need to discuss after some sense of resolution has been met.

There was information that I found disturbing. Sonny needed to log some flight hours. The only plane available that day was an old fighter jet that was on it’s way to become a static display. In other words, it was past its usefulness. In the three days leading up to the crash, four separate engines had been installed.

The morning of the crash dawned gray and foggy. Uncle Sonny went through the usual preflight check. The ground crew walked around the plane and somehow, someone failed to notice the intake baffles were in the wrong position for the weather conditions. When he took off, he flew around the base a couple of times without incident. Then someone noticed a shift in the engine sound and looked up. The plane had slowed down considerably and was losing altitude.

No one can know for certain what went on in the cockpit that day. The witness on the ground said he couldn’t understand why my uncle didn’t eject and let the plane go down. It wasn’t until the full investigation that it was determined the trajectory of the plane would have sent it into the barracks where countless airmen would still be preparing for their day. Instead, Uncle Sonny steered the plane toward an open potato field that had recently been plowed. I’m sure, with his farming experience, he knew that would be a fairly soft place to land.

As he struggled to keep the engine going and the plane aloft, he noticed a gap between the trees surrounding the potato field. It was narrow, but if he tipped his right wing at the right moment, he could just squeak through. Unfortunately, the sudden dip in the right wing caused the engine to stall even further and the tip of the wing hit the ground. This caused the plane to cartwheel.

Uncle Sonny was found still strapped in his ejector seat in an upright position…as though he were waiting for someone to come by and have a chat. His helmet was cracked from the impact and he died from blunt force trauma. And, even though his wallet wasn’t with him and neither was my bare butt photo…he didn’t burn. It was over quickly.

In my opinion, my Uncle Sonny was a hero. I’m sure he saved countless lives that day. But there was no award, no medal, no call from a grateful President. Maybe that was best. Grandma was not one for making a fuss. “Fools names, like their faces, always seen in public places.” She was a private, unassuming woman with great dignity.

Sonny was laid to rest on a hilltop cemetery fifteen or so miles from the farm. One by one, our loved ones joined him. First Pop-Pop, then Grandma, then my mom, then Uncle Bob. I go twice a year to see them and I always hang around him a little longer. I wish I could have known him. I am comforted knowing there was such a beautiful homecoming when the Lord came to take the others to join my Uncle Sonny and Jesus.

This day is so much more than another day off, another reason for a party. This is the day when we honor the fallen…all who gave their lives in the line of duty. Not just military. We remember all who have gone before us and we decorate their graves. Thank you…for giving your all. My heart is with those who had to go on without you.

❤️

“For the greatest love of all is a love that sacrifices all. And this great love is demonstrated when a person sacrifices his life for his friends.”
John 15:13 TPT

Smoke

Sun, 26 May 2019 01:30:10 -0600

“Life has a certain synchronicity. It swirls round and round like wisps of smoke.”

Mail delivery is different when you live on a rural route. When you drive out any two lane blacktop, there are dirt roads that go off up into hollers. There may be a dozen or more houses up there, but it wouldn’t be feasible to send a mail carrier up every little dirt track. So, you often see a whole row of mailboxes on the corner and everyone has to pick up their own mail. Our mailbox is across the two lane from the Ponderosa so we either walk up or stop on our way out when we go somewhere.

When I first moved in with Mr. FixIt, I seldom got any mail here. I have a post office box that I use for my business so it was just easier for me to get all my mail there. Because the majority of the mail was his, I never really saw it unless I picked it up. Mr. FixIt was throwing away junk mail one day and casually remarked, for some reason he had received coupons for cigarettes. He couldn’t figure out how in the world he ever got on their mailing list.

We went into town yesterday to decorate graves on Mr. FixIt’s side of the family. We stopped to get the mail and there was another cigarette advertisement. He handed me the mail and said, “See? We got it again!” I sat there, holding the mail in my hands. For a moment, my heart skipped a beat and I could barely breathe.

“Is this the brand you got before?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s always the same.”

I ran my fingers over the familiar green box and smiled. Kools.

“You know…this is Mr. Virgo’s brand.”

“Whoa. That’s weird.”

“No…not weird. It’s just a message. A sort of hello from beyond.”

I don’t know how things work on the other side exactly. I know there is heaven. And I know the Bible says there is a veil between the worlds and those in heaven cannot see or connect with their loved ones on earth. I also know God loves us and wants to comfort our hearts when we lose loved ones so He sends us things that strike a chord with us. In my case…bluebirds. A particular song that’s out of place. Flickering lights. And, an ad. Of all the cigarette brands that are out there, the one that came was Mr. Virgo’s. It’s not even what I would consider a top brand. Why that one? On Memorial Day weekend?

I reached over and took my husband’s hand. I smiled and looked out the window at the passing scenery. I marveled at this lovely life and all its synchronicity…curling round and round like wisps of smoke.

“Hello, Mr. Virgo” I said softly. “Thanks for coming to see us.”

❤️

“Now they know that everything that you have given me is from you.”
John 17:7 ESV

Thunderbolt and Lightning(bugs)

Fri, 24 May 2019 01:30:58 -0600

“Dew on the grass. Lightning bugs. Whippoorwills. It’s springtime in West Virginia.”

I saw the very first lightning bugs of the season on May 17th. It was the first night Mr. FixIt and I slept in the new camper. Then it got cold and I didn’t see any. But I saw a couple more last night. Some folks call them fireflies. We loved summer when we were kids…for so many reasons. But one of the best things was catching lightning bugs and putting them in a canning jar.

PopPop would poke holes in a jar lid. We’d put a little grass in the bottom of the jar so the lightning bugs would feel at home. Then us kids would run all over the yard catching the little critters when they swooped up out of the lawn at dusk. We would capture as many as we could and then take the jar to bed with us to watch the magical little lights flash in the dark.

Sometimes before bed, my Uncle Bud would bring a watermelon out of the cellar house and cut it up in thick slices. He’d cut each slice in half so we had a semi-circle of red sweetness to cool us off. Grandma would let us use the salt shaker and sprinkle a little on before we ate it. To this day, I can’t eat watermelon without salt. We had contests to see who could spit a seed the farthest. Uncle Bud always warned us not to swallow any seeds or we’d grow watermelons in our bellies. For a long time I thought pregnant women weren’t eating watermelon the right way!

Once the watermelon was finished, grandma ran a basin of warm water and we washed up and headed to bed. If it was the peak of summer, we wore little seersucker babydoll PJ’s to bed with just a sheet to cover us. We didn’t know what air conditioning was. We were lucky to have a fan in Uncle Bob’s room that sucked all the hot air out of the house. When it was cool enough, someone turned off the fan.

I remember so many summer nights with my jar of lightning bug on a chair by the bed, listening to the night sounds out at the farm. Whippoorwills. Owls. Peepers and tree frogs and bull frogs. When I was really little, we heard bobwhites. I think I might have heard one or two since then.

This is why I love the farm. These memories. They’re as thick as cobwebs and unavoidable. West Virginia. The country. It all just brings me so much peace. I am so grateful I listened to that inner voice and came home when I did. I have never been so happy as I am here…in the home of my heart.

❤️

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” James 1:17 NIV

Wascally Wabbits!

Thu, 23 May 2019 01:30:35 -0600

“Mr. FixIt…working in the garden.”

Mr. FixIt came to me the other morning with a dejected sigh.

“Something ate the beans.”

Again? Hmpffff! Don’t they know that little piece of ground is OURS??? They have five acres. I just want this little patch. Yeah…not likely. We used the rabbit deterrent faithfully…until, we didn’t. All it took was one little rain and one lapse of memory and…poof! No more beans. I think it is the rabbits. But it could be that little chipmunk. Or deer. Or…whatever. The point is…unless you put some sort of protective fencing or netting or both around your garden, you cannot expect to provide a salad bar without getting dinner guests.

That’s ok. We still have the tomatoes. Plenty of tomatoes!!! We had twelve tomato plants and one mysteriously disappeared. No footprints. No trace…just gone. So, we are left with eleven tomato plants and a couple dozen onions. We’re good.

I went to the farm yesterday to get the shades from the big camper. For those of you who have been around for the long haul, you will remember the first thing I did when I bought that camper was take those hideous window coverings off. If I’m going to sell the camper, I need to put them back. While I was there, I did the last load of laundry and gathered some camping items I will need in a couple of weeks when we go to Blackwater Falls with the Girl Campers. That’s one thing I like about Girl Campers…you can bring your hubby if you like. We just ask that they do something on their own while we’re there so we can have our girl time. Mr. FixIt is taking his golf clubs.

I’m taking the ice cream freezer. There is something so special about homemade ice cream when you’re camping. I also brought the screen house. The mosquitoes will be making an appearance before long and some people are more susceptible to bites than others. I want to make sure everyone is comfortable and has a place to sit out of the rain if need be.

When I got home, Mr. FixIt had a table saw on the back of the truck that needed to be unloaded. It was way too heavy to pick up but we used our brains over our brawn and tipped it onto a dolly and down the ramps into the garage. Perfect! Just as we were done, the former Mrs. FixIt came over to pick up a tent to go camping. I really like her and we sat for four hours visiting. Then my bonus granddaughter and the baby came over with ice cream. It was such a beautiful day!

I love that we can demonstrate for the younger generations that the family relationship doesn’t have to end with divorce. We just open our hearts more and let in love and healing.

❤️

“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!” Psalm 133:1 NIV

Wednesday Evening Walkabout

Thu, 16 May 2019 01:30:23 -0600

“Clockwise from Top Left: Abundant Blueberries, Honey Locust, Wild Grape Vine, Beautiful Peonies”

I finished mowing at the Ponderosa while Mr. FixIt was in town working on a porch he’s building. There were several areas around the edges of the fields where brush, vines and trees had encroached into my mowing space. They are the worst when they hang over and I have to try to mow under them. I bend way far forward over the riding mower, but sometimes a briar will jump out and grab me. So, last night after supper, I did my walkabout and took the loppers with me. I pruned back a lot of branches and threw them into the woods for the critters to munch on and hide in.

I finished the back property line before I gave up for the evening. I love how the fields look when they’re freshly mowed. They smell so good and they are all smooth and even. I snapped a few pictures as I moseyed around looking at the many varieties of trees in the woods beyond the far fields. I love this time of year. The dense foliage makes the shadowy underbrush dark and a cool breeze comes out smelling of musty earth and moldy leaves. It’s a rich aroma of sweet decay combined with cut grass, honey locust, and creek water. It’s heavenly, earthy, decadent. It makes me happy.

Once my tools were put away, I climbed in the little camper, snuggled back into my favorite corner and looked out at the sun setting over the far hill. The reflections of the puffy white clouds and bluebird sky on the windshield of my truck added movement and color to the scene. These are my tranquil moments. It’s MY time. Mr. FixIt is in his recliner inside, watching the news. We both worked hard today. It makes the evenings such a gift.

We are blessed beyond belief. We have a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and love in our hearts. We have a wonderful family. We have our health. We have each other. As I was walking around the field last night, a bluebird dashed in front of me and I smiled.

“Well…hello there, Mr. Virgo. I’m doing just fine!”

❤️

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 NIV

A Quiet Place

Wed, 15 May 2019 01:30:15 -0600

“Living in a quiet place fills me with peace and gratitude.”

Mr. FixIt had to go help his friend move some things in town yesterday so I hung out at home and “pretend camped”. I piddled around in the camper most of the day. I cleaned up and put things away. I swept and washed the floors and emptied the trash. I wiped things down and stripped the bed. While I was taking off the comforter, I noticed it was damp up by the front wall towards the driver’s side. A leak!

It didn’t leak when I was parked at the campground and we had some pretty heavy rain. This leak came when I was driving through torrential rain on Monday so it has to be either around the window or something at the edge. I happily discovered the bed raises up with pneumatic lifters so I could get under there and have a good look. There were no wet places on the flooring under the bed or in any of the compartments. So I’ll have to look some more.

While I was in under the bed, I got a good look at the water system. Mr. FixIt helped me and we could not figure out why the pump won’t build up pressure and shut off. Again…more investigation is needed. In the meantime, if I can flush the commode and wash my hands and the dishes, I’m not too concerned about the rest of it. Just about every place I plan to camp will have electric and if it’s cold, I have either the electric blanket or the little space heater to keep me warm.

When Mr. FixIt got home, he staked up the tomatoes. Something happened to one of the plants. It’s just gone. The rest look good though. And the beans are coming up much better than last year. I still have a bunch of food in the refrigerator in the camper so I fixed us some supper and we sat at the dinette and ate. That made me smile.

After supper, we went for a quick walk down the road. There’s been some activity on the property next door so we moseyed over to see what’s going on. They are clearing the lot so maybe we’re getting neighbors. We don’t have neighbors within sight of the house so this is something very new for Mr. FixIt. He’s lived here over 40 years.

When we were walking back down the road, holding hands, I looked out over our field and smiled. All of my life I’ve wanted to live on five acres. And here we are! I looked around and thought of all the things I would have liked to have on these five acres over the years. A barn with maybe some animals…a cow for milk and butter, some chickens, maybe a couple of goats or sheep. A big garden. Some fruit trees. I sure would have done more with this than five acres of lawn to mow. And now?

I never say it’s too late to do something. But my priorities have changed. We like to travel and we’re going to be too old before too long to maintain that level of farming. No…we’re looking at simplifying now. But it’s nice to dream about what we might have done, had we been together when we were younger.

This is our little slice of heaven, and so is the farm. When we got back from our walk, I jumped on the riding mower and mowed till it was almost too dark to see. I watched Mr. FixIt with the push mower in the fenced yard. I watched how the mower took the curves of the field and turned them into the swirly rows of a contemporary quilt. I watch the old yellow cat sitting at the edge of the field, eyeing me to see if I was going to sacrifice another turtle for him. Thankfully, I did not. I noticed the petals of the poplar blooms fallen as I mowed over them. I watched the robins swoop in to get the bugs the mower stirred up. I took a deep breath of new mown grass. And…I smiled.

❤️

“He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.” Psalm 18:19 NIV

What a Hoot!!!

Sun, 12 May 2019 01:30:56 -0600

“Coffee in the camper…my favorite thing about camping!”

The Girl Campers have been meeting at Beaver Creek State Park for the last three years or so. Some come for a day or two. Some come for a full week of fun. Gail is our Hostess Extraordinaire. Janine, our fearless leader and “Camper in Chief” is here with her Mister and anytime the three of us get together…it’s the Three Amigas. A good time is always to be had when we gather around the campfire.

“Janine loved her socks!”

We have a Spring and a Fall “What a Hoot” event. Where did we get that name, you ask? We get to listen to the owls! We cannot call them in the spring because they are on the nest. But in the fall, we can play their calls over a speaker and call them in close so we can hear them. It’s beautiful.

“The blossom of the pawpaw tree. Isn’t it beautiful?”

The park naturalist came again yesterday. He took some of the campers on a guided nature walk and identified several varieties of wildflowers. Then later in the afternoon, we went fishing. One of our gals caught a good sized catfish on her second cast. I casted fifty times and didn’t catch a thing but I had fun!

“Sherri caught a catfish on her second cast!”

I finished knitting the socks I was working on. Janine has been marveling over them for a year. That’s how long it took me to knit them! So, I gifted them to her and she was so tickled.

“Some of the girls made camping journals to keep as a memento from their trip.”

Dinner last night was a smorgasbord of soups and fresh fruit. Bourbon Brownie S’mores for dessert! I didn’t have the ones with bourbon…I had mine plain. But they were gooey and decadent. Today, I get back on my diet!

I hope you enjoy the photos! I’ll be heading back to the Ponderosa tomorrow!

Oh, and…it’s Mother’s Day. Moms come in all shapes and sizes and descriptions. Some of us are moms. Some of us chose not to be. Some wanted to be and couldn’t. Some were…and lost their babies in one way or another. Some lost their relationships in some way. A lot of us have lost our moms by the time we get to be my age. And, some are fortunate to yet have theirs. The bottom line is…no matter what state you are in….it’s Mother’s Day. I hope it is a good day for you and yours…even if there are tears.

I miss my mom…my grandma…and my “other mother”, Louisa. I’ll see you all some fine day.

And, I miss my girls. I’ll see them soon!

❤️

“Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living.” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭3:20‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Unbeatable Laughter...Unbearable Tears

Sat, 04 May 2019 01:30:38 -0600

“Chocolate cake pops aren’t the most delectable looking things till they get their pretty candy coating.”

The last couple of days were an incredible jumble of extreme emotions. First, we had an intense discussion about the impact of addiction in this area and on our lives. It was deeply personal and what is said in the room, stays in the room. Suffice it to say, I could not wait to get out and call my daughters and thank them for never going down that particular path. As I left messages for them…(who’s kid ever answers the phone these days?)…I broke down in tears. Because…instead of my kids being addicted…it had been me when they were growing up. I hate that I exposed them to opioid and alcohol abuse and the aftermath it caused. But, what the enemy tried to kill, God has used to our good and His glory.

Later in the evening, Daughter #1 called me back. I adore both of my girls and they couldn’t be more different. My firstborn has always been the strong, dependable kid who turned into a wonderful woman and an excellent mother, but she’s not a terribly demonstrative person. She is a little crusty on the outside but soft in the center but she’d rather chew off her arm than show it. When I answered the phone, I could hear that slightly vulnerable tenderness in her voice that I so seldom get to hear and my heart melted.

She went on to regale me with a story about her evening. It seems HER firstborn informed her earlier in the week that she needed cake pops for a going away party for one of her friends. She needed them yesterday. And…she wanted them shaped like pineapples for some reason. Now, Daughter #1 is highly creative, and an incredible teacher, but she was not particularly crafty or interested in baking when she was young. It’s amazing what we do for our kids, isn’t it?

She looked up how to make cake pops on YouTube and Pinterest. She e-mailed her principal who makes cake pops for stress relief. She found out that…surprise, surprise…cake pops are not baked in molds with sticks in them and then dipped in frosting. Actually, you bake the cake, let it cool, crumble it up very fine, then mix in a little bit of frosting. Just enough to work it together into a ball but not enough to get it wet. I had no idea!

Since my granddaughter asked for chocolate, my daughter baked two layers of chocolate cake. Then she used a small ice cream scoop to make balls of the dough and rolled them into a slightly oblong egg shape to represent little pineapples. Then she stuck sticks in them that had been dipped in the melted candy coating so they would stick. At this point, it struck her what her little creations actually LOOKED like and she had to send me pictures. We laughed til we cried. It was so delightful. I was so proud of her…for everything. Being a good kid and a great mom. For having a sense of humor. For loving me so much, even though I make her crazy half the time and she can’t let me know either way.

Then, yesterday, one of my mom’s cousins texted to tell me another cousin in Illinois passed away on Sunday. That made me sad because I just loved Betty Mae. When she and her family came to West Virginia to visit my grandma, it was an EVENT, I’m telling you. I sent a potted plant with a note and then called my aunt and uncle to make sure they knew.

Remember I told you I made the difficult decision to not go to my niece’s graduation in Indiana? Well, I found out the graduation is outside today…in the rain…in Indiana…in tornado season. They’re giving them ponchos to wear. Oy! That’s not why God prompted me to cancel, though. Mr. FixIt was driving home yesterday and he got the strongest urge to call his best friend. When he did, his friend was crying because his wife had just passed away. His friend is going to need him here and I am so grateful I listened to the whispers of the Holy Spirit telling me not to go!

The camper is almost ready for my big camping trip next week. I installed a new smoke detector yesterday, packed some things in the overhead cabinets over the dinette, added deodorizer to the tanks, and swept the floors. There were a couple of very small holes on the wall where I removed some curtain hardware so I filled them with a little caulking. I tried putting the quilts that I wanted to use on the bed but they are too small for the queen bed. That’s ok…I’ll use the all white quilt I used in big TOW-Wanda and just fold the extra quilts at the bottom of the bed for decoration. The only thing left to do is wash the floors and windows, lay down the rugs, take out the trash, and finish packing. It’s supposed to storm all day today, so I can get in there and play…and maybe we’ll camp in the driveway tonight!

❤️

“So I commend the enjoyment of life, because there is nothing better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany them in their toil all the days of the life God has given them under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 8:15 NIV
“‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”” Revelation 21:4 NIV

I Choose Joy!

Tue, 30 Apr 2019 01:30:27 -0600

“I’m choosing joy by choosing to remember the special moments we spent at the seashore last week.”

Even though Pastor Justin’s message Sunday morning was about choosing joy, I just had one of my “bad nights”. Yesterday’s post indicated I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I did. Re-entry from vacation was part of it. Being overly tired was another. And, after being gone a week, there was a lot of catching up to do and we just heard one bad thing after another all day. It just hit me hard. Combine that with eating a greasy burger too late in the evening and I was up half the night.

I tried all my go-to remedies and nothing seemed to help. I was up pacing the floor. I tried snuggling with Mr. FixIt and that helped, but I was too hot. Finally, I took a Benadryl because I had been out mowing all afternoon and my head was throbbing. I settled into the guest room, opened the window to let the cool night air in, and read my Bible till I got drowsy. When I finally slept, it was sound and deep and restful…just what I asked God for in my nightly prayers. He is a good Father…His lullaby is perfect.

I hit the ground running yesterday and went for the MRI of my foot. I’ve had several MRI’s in my lifetime. I couldn’t believe it took a whole hour! It was an open MRI and, of course, the only thing in it was my foot. But the noises were the same. The technician turned up the music really loud and I listened to the country station for an hour. The only hard part was boredom thinking of all the things I could have been doing. Laying still on my back for an hour on a hard table wasn’t too much fun. I just used the time to have a conversation with God.

I needed to have fasting blood drawn from an appointment a couple of weeks ago and I kept forgetting to go in so I did that. Then I stopped at the mall and bought yet another dress for the wedding. I can’t seem to make up my mind but this one I really liked and it was 50% off. I can wear it to my niece’s college graduation this weekend and see how I like it. I even found some cute little sandals that were also half price. I’m not buying any more dresses!

My last stop was Walmart for new sheets for the camper. I’m not one for keeping a lot of old sheets around. I buy two pair and rotate them till they’re worn out. I’ll bet I could count on two hands how many sets of sheets I’ve had in my life. Funny thing…they are exactly the same pattern as the sheets I bought for the big camper five years ago. I would have used those, but they were full size and the new camper ya s a queen bed. I also picked up a couple of throw rugs and a new shower curtain. Everything else will get moved from the old camper to the new one.

Before we leave, I need to treat the fresh water tank with a mild bleach solution and run it through the pipes. Then I need to put some Dawn dish soap, Calgon Water Softener, more water, and a bag of ice in the black tank and take the camper for a drive to let it all slosh around in the tank and dislodge anything gunking up the works. I will drive up to a rest area up north and empty the tanks and get them all ready for Thursday. Once I get back home, I’ll make the beds and wipe down the surfaces. I’ll wipe out the fridge and the cabinets and wash the floors. Once the bathroom is cleaned, I can put down the new rugs. I’ll pack it up and we’ll be ready to go!

So…today I choose joy. Even in the busy rush of life and travel preparation. Just breathe. Just breathe.

❤️

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy.” Psalm 94:19 NIV

The Weight of the World

Mon, 29 Apr 2019 01:30:15 -0600

“Sometimes things seem too heavy. That’s when I need to stop and read my devotionals.”

Don’t you sometimes feel like you’re carrying a whole lot of weight on your shoulders? One should come home from vacation feeling refreshed and relaxed. While we had a fabulous vacation and I enjoyed every single minute of it, I always come home with a mountain of work to do and if I’m not careful, I’ll forget the joy of the vacation altogether.

When we got home Saturday night, it was raining but we emptied the truck as best we could. This left containers laying around to be emptied. Before we could put anything away, we had to clean the kitchen counters from spraying for ants last week. Then all the stuff that had been moved to the island to get moved back to the counter. THEN the kitchen stuff could be put away. This after driving twelve hours…the majority of which was done by my sweet husband.

We were up early and out the door for church with the grandkids then our usual breakfast. We had errands to run before we finally got back home. Mr. FixIt had the rest of the truck to empty while I cleaned the kitchen and put away more stuff. Then he got out the push mower and weed eater and I hopped on the riding mower. Three hours later, we gave up because it was cold and we were hungry.

We have really felt our age this last year, it seems. Aches and pains that never slowed us down are starting to get in the way. We can’t work sunup to sundown like we once did and that is frustrating. Made more so by the post-vacation blues. The next couple of weeks are going to be super busy. We need to finish the mowing at the Ponderosa then we have to go mow at the farm, I have an MRI on my foot today to see what the problem is that’s causing pain, then I have to de-winterize and prepare the new camper for her maiden voyage.

We leave Thursday for Indiana to see my niece graduate from college. We get back on Sunday, I’ll have one day to clean up the camper, restock, and do laundry before I turn around and take her up north for a week with the Girl Campers. Then I’ll have some down time. Knitting and napping and sitting around the campfire will be the order of the day. Until then, every day is jam-packed with busy. It is during times like this I have to actually set an an alarm and force myself to sit down and do my bible study. Those are the moments that carry me through the rest of it.

❤️

“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.”
Mark 1:35 NIV

Goodbye...For Now

Sat, 27 Apr 2019 01:30:17 -0600

“Best Friends”

Goodbyes are so hard…especially since losing Mr. Virgo. My world perspective has forever changed and grief has colored every thought since that fateful day. I am so aware of how tenuous life is and how strong the bonds between us and those we hold most dear.

Today we have to say so long to our dearest family/friends as they head back home to Colorado and we head back home to the Ponderosa. We have had such a delightful week. The weather seriously couldn’t have been more perfect. Our first morning here dawned sunny and gorgeous and remained the same the entire week until a band of severe thunder storms came through last evening. It rained hard into the night and brought cooler temperatures but today is supposed to be sunny with a high around 70 so it will be perfect traveling weather.

While grief and death are not in the forefront of my thoughts anymore, there are certain things that have changed because of my loss. Now, when I see a scene, I see it through the eyes of a widow and know the scenes I wish I had pictures of. As we watched the sunset in a quiet cove along the sound in the Cape Hatteras National Seashore the other night, I looked back. I noticed Ben & Sue turn to take in the last of the golden light as the sun dipped below the horizon over the glassy surface of the water. I smiled as Sue reached for Ben’s hand and I reached for my cell phone to snap this picture. I added the location and date and sent it to her.

We do not know when our time will come, but we do know statistically that women outlive their husbands. When Mr. Virgo died, I really had fewer photos of him than I thought. I wanted to make sure Ben & Sue had all the special events of the week recorded for posterity.

As we drove down to the beach last weekend, I kept thinking…”It’ll be over in an instant and we’ll be driving back home.” And, here we are. But…oh, my. We made some beautiful memories together this week and I will cherish this time together for the rest of my life.

❤️

“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!” Psalm 133:1 NIV

Oh...Oh...OBX!

Fri, 26 Apr 2019 01:30:47 -0600

“Is there anything better than spending time with loved ones?”

This has been the BEST week! The weather has been amazing. The company SO much fun. And the food has been divine. The only thing that could have made it better would be if ALL the family could be here.

We started out with a hearty breakfast. I had a box of matzoh leftover from the Seder demonstration at church group the other night and brought it along. My very favorite Passover breakfast is Matzoh Brei. You take the sheets of matzoh and crumble them up. Pour enough hot water over them to cover them and let them sit for a while. Then you squeeze the water out of them and place the wet matzoh in another bowl. Beat three or four eggs with some cinnamon, a dash of salt, and a little vanilla extract together then pour it over the wet matzoh and stir till you get a thick batter. Drop 3/4 of a cup of the thick batter on a hot oiled griddle and cook till browned and set in the middle. Serve with butter and syrup like pancakes. Yummm!

We all gathered our things and headed to the beach. Sue and I walked for a while and the guys fished. Mr. FixIt let me cast for him once. We got out the umbrellas and sat for a long time watching a school of dolphins playing in the surf not too far from the shore. Just when we thought it couldn’t get any cooler, we saw the blowing mist from a small humpback whale that breached and showed his beautiful tail fin as he dove back into the sea. OMGosh! That was SO exciting. The guys never got a nibble while we were there so Sue and I decided to head to the indoor pool and exercise. We did some stretches and water aerobics moves till we were tuckered out and headed for the condo.

After our showers, the boys come in with stories and pictures of all the fish they caught AFTER we left! Skates, shark, drum, croaker…they were busy but as always, practiced catch and release. It is the sport that is fun…not the killing.

Once we were all cleaned up, Mr. FixIt hunted up a restaurant that served scallops as that is Ben’s all-time favorite. We discovered Henry’s in Kill Devil Hills and it did not disappoint! I had the best coconut shrimp. Sue had a blackened tuna steak and the boys both had scallops. The hush puppies were really good. We were all too stuffed to order a rich dessert. We stopped at the Ben Franklin store for souvenirs for the grandchildren and Walmart for milk and we were done for the day!

As Sue and I were splashing around in the pool in the afternoon, I shared a concern that’s been bugging me just a little. My younger daughter is getting married in August and I am heavier than I wanted to be. I still have some time to lose weight, but that’s not the point. I’m self-conscious because my ex-husband will see me as fat. It’s ridiculous that I should even let that thought in, but there it sits. Sue has known me through thick and thin since my older daughter started dating her older son. We talked about it as we bounced around in the water with our ample sixty-something tummies and laughed at how silly we can still be, even when we KNOW it doesn’t mean diddly squat what others (ESPECIALLY ex-husbands) think! We talked about dressing strategies and letting go of the rest.

This has been an excellent week for me…just what I needed. A week of fun and sun, sand and surf, and lots of love. My best champions are with me this week and I feel surrounded by their love and care. As Ben & Sue head off to the airport tomorrow, Mr. FixIt and I will drive home to the Ponderosa for a few days of mowing before we pack up the new camper and head out on her maiden voyage to Indiana!

My heart is so full!

❤️

“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.”
Colossians 3:15 NIV

Service, Sunshine, and Seafood

Mon, 22 Apr 2019 01:30:32 -0600

“Low Country Shrimp and Grits”

We enjoyed our Easter service at the United Methodist Church across the road from our timeshare. We attended the contemporary services and the music was very nice. The sermon was thought provoking. And it was fun to go to a Southern church and see folks in their Easter dresses. The children enjoyed a demonstration up front with the Pastor before the services began. The church itself was lovely with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Curratuck Sound.

Afterwards, we drove around and found a restaurant that was open and had a seafood extravaganza and ate till they had to roll us home. I had the Low Country Shrimp and Grits. Yummmmmm. We came back to the condo and some napped while others walked or made phone calls. We were all still too full to eat dinner but we did finally polish off the apple pie we started Saturday night.

It was a lovely, lazy, family day sharing stories and photos. Today, we are tourists!

❤️

“The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.””
Mark 6:30-31 NIV

Easter Sunday

Sun, 21 Apr 2019 01:30:31 -0600

“The sunset over the Curratuck Sound:

I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older…or maybe it’s gaining a deeper connection to God…but Easter this year seems to have a much, much deeper meaning for me than ever before. I have a close church family relationship…probably for the first time in my life. And I have Mr. FixIt and my bonus family to go to church with. Whatever the reason, this Easter is completely different…personal.

We arrived at the beach yesterday afternoon and did our obligatory stop at the grocery store. We weren’t at the condo more than half an hour when my son-in-law’s parents arrived. Oh, my…I love them dearly and was SO excited to see them. Ben & Sue are the salt of the earth. Good, hardworking people with great character and a terrific sense of humor. I’ve known them now since 1993 or so. I’ll tell you what…my daughter won the lottery when it comes to her husband and in-laws!

Sue and I never really talked about faith much till the last couple of years and it has been wonderful to share that part of myself with her. We have a lot of wonderful discussions and I am so happy to have them here with us this week.

We found a church right across the street that has an 11:00 service today so we won’t miss Easter.

May you all have a blessed Easter! And for my Jewish family and friends…Happy Passover!

❤️

“He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ”” Luke 24:6-7 NIV

Good Friday

Fri, 19 Apr 2019 01:30:21 -0600

“My grandma’s pretty posies…I love to visit them.”

I ran to the farm yesterday to pick up my laundry I left hanging to dry. I took a quick walkabout to see Grandma’s posies. She loved them so much and I always feel so close to her when I see them.

Grandma loved Easter time. Her flowers were beautiful and she almost always had all of her family together to go to church. I feel terrible that I won’t be attending church with the kids this weekend, but there is a church right across the road from the condo so we will still get to go to an Easter service.

The bags are packed. Going to the time share is much like camping…we take extra linens and pots and pans because the one’s there are somewhat lacking in substance. We also bring some dry goods with us because groceries down there are so expensive. So, the truck will be packed first thing in the morning and we’ll hit the road no later than 9:00.

Small group last night was wonderful. I talked to the girls about Passover and the rituals around the Seder meal. I brought some traditional foods for them to taste. They weren’t crazy about the gefilte fish!

Kathy spoke about Easter. She told how Jesus washed the feet of the Disciples. Then, she prepared a basin and pitcher of warm water and washed all of our feet. It was a humbling experience. When she was done, I stepped forward and invited her to sit so that I could wash hers. I followed her example and told her the beautiful attributes Jesus sees when He looks at her. I thanked her for being such a shining example of a humble servant for all of us to see. And I told her how much I dearly love her.

What a wonderful way to start out our week!

❤️

“It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” “No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” “Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!” Jesus answered, “Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.” For he knew who was going to betray him, and that was why he said not every one was clean. When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.” John 13:1-17 NIV

Evidence of Healing

Tue, 16 Apr 2019 01:30:00 -0600

“A memory from a time long ago and far away…”

I know April is a hectic time of year what with my daughter’s birthday and taxes being due. I was also quite busy this spring writing and editing my book. And, our annual trip to the Outer Banks is this weekend so my mind was preoccupied. As I sat down at the computer yesterday to write my post, I was confronted with one of those Facebook memories complete with scads of photos….of Mr. Virgo’s and my Honeymoon.

I couldn’t believe it. It was on the 7th and it never once crossed my mind. I remember one year I almost forgot. It was probably four years after his death and I felt so terribly guilty because I nearly went the whole day without thinking about it. This time, it was a whole week PAST the anniversary and I may not have remembered at all if I hadn’t seen the photos. But, I didn’t feel guilty. I actually felt somewhat relieved.

There was a point in my grief when I thought I never would feel even somewhat normal again. I didn’t believe I would ever feel joy or freedom and certainly not romantic love again. Yet, here I am. On the other side. I’ve no doubt I still have my moments. NOT remembering seems monumental in some way.

Not focusing on or remembering an important anniversary doesn’t mean I have forgotten Mr. Virgo…or anything about him. It just means time has passed and I am healing. I’ve moved….forward. I wish I could have had some serious reassurance four or five years ago that so much healing could occur in what is a relatively short time in grief years.

This time fourteen years ago, we were driving up the west coast on Highway 1. I wanted to stand on the beach with my husband. Fourteen years later, I’m packing to leave for a trip to the east coast so that I can stand on the beach with my husband.

Ironic.

The whole thing makes me smile. It makes my heart soften. It makes me ever so grateful to have known…and to now know…such great love.

❤️

“Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth— for your love is more delightful than wine.” Song of Songs 1:2 NIV

Hummers!

Mon, 15 Apr 2019 01:30:16 -0600

“The hummingbirds are back!”

They’re baaaaaaack! I was stretched out in TOW-Wanda, relishing my very satisfying afternoon nap, when I turned over and gazed out this great big, beautiful front window at the stunning pink flowers on the shrub nearby. That’s when I saw her…a lovely iridescent hummingbird, hovering around the heady floral aroma…getting some much needed nourishment from her migration. My heart leapt for joy! I do so love this time of year…the day I get the taxes done for another year!

This time…I promise…THIS time I will keep my records straight. I will make sure enough is withheld for taxes. I will NOT put it off till the very last minute! I promise!

Yesterday was a coffee day for the girls from my class and it was such a beautiful day. So many of them couldn’t come for one reason or another and we missed them. Mr. FixIt came and met me at the local library and we sat down to get our taxes done. It went pretty fast because I had most everything completed the day before. We just tidied up loose ends and ended up filing jointly. It saved us some money.

When I finally hit “send” and the returns went flying through the wires on their way to the IRS, I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief. I turned to Mr. FixIt and said, “Steak! Give me steak! And a baked potato! And broccoli!!! He grinned ear to ear. He was just as glad to have the taxes over so he could get his wife back instead of Godzilla!

We hit traffic coming through town. It was the Easter Parade! I haven’t been to one of those in decades. I rolled the window down and heard the high school marching band going by. I could see them through a parking lot as I sat in traffic. Children rushing for thrown candy. Balloons being carried through the crowds. And finally…the Easter Bunny. It made me realize…since my littles are either too far away, or too big, or too little for the Easter Bunny, I hadn’t even given the furry guy much thought, even with all the store displays. Today after church, we are taking our great granddaughter to the mall to see the furry guy himself. Then I can give the baby her book…Baby’s First Book of Bible Stories. We bought it for her Baby Dedication and forgot to bring it with us. And, we won’t be here for Easter…we’ll be at the beach. There is a church right across the street from out condo so we can still go to services.

The steak was fabulous. Then we went to the park to walk. I couldn’t walk more than half a mile with this painful foot. I have an appointment Wednesday with the Orthopedist to determine what’s going on. I think it’s a Morton’s Neuroma. Let’s lay odds if I’m right or not.

We got home and I fell asleep in the camper…I really LOVE having a window open right above my head! Beautiful, beautiful day!

❤️

“I know every bird in the mountains...” Psalm 50:11 NIV

Darkness into Light

Sun, 14 Apr 2019 01:30:27 -0600

“Looking back, I am humbled by my deliverance.”

The stress of doing taxes this week made me sit back and reflect how differently I cope now as opposed to twenty years ago. Back then, I felt like that guy on Ted Mack’s Amateur Hour. You know the one…he twirled plates on top of sticks. First one, then two, then five…and eventually, he had about twelve of them spinning. He ran from one stick to another, desperately trying to keep all the plates spinning without crashing to the ground.

I did a great job spinning plates till…I didn’t. I burned out. I hit the wall. There were lots of reasons why, but the bottom line was…I didn’t have good coping skills. I had an alcoholic father. I seriously should have known not to push the drinking thing. But, more and more, I relied on alcohol to prop me up.

I had situational anxiety. Going to a party? I’d have a drink in the bathroom while I put on my makeup and called on “Ginny the Party Girl” to step forward…emboldened by a beer. Going to the game with the hospital administrator and his wife? Drink LOTS of beers. Hosting a dinner party for the medical staff? Wine…more wine! It got worse and worse.

When my marriage started to fall apart, I was terrified. I had no idea how to cope because I worshiped at the altar of my husband. I only had a cursory relationship with God and I didn’t know Jesus at all. I was relying entirely on someone fairly unreliable….myself. When thing became difficult between me and my husband, I started drinking about an hour before he was due home so I could get through the evening. Many times I just got too wasted to cook so I went to bed, leaving my family to fend for themselves.

At the very end of our marriage, I found myself standing in a closet in the dark, drinking really expensive tequila straight from the bottle. I knew…KNEW in that moment that I was in dire straits. Unfortunately, when you are in that place, it’s really, really hard to pull yourself out of it without some help. I was just functional enough to fool people into thinking I still had it together…but I did not.

Our last Thanksgiving, my best friend’s husband caught me sneaking into their kitchen during dinner and drinking shots of tequila. I fell asleep on their couch while all the guests were at the table having dessert. I was desperately ill, but I was also an embarrassment. My husband didn’t know what to do with me. When I overdosed a couple of months later, I made the decision for him and I went away to get the help I needed.

Now, as a Christian, I know that God uses all things for my good and for HIS glory. Last week in church, I said my usual prayer…”Lord, if you have a message just for me, please deliver it through Pastor Justin.” And, in his message, God sent this…

“God will use your experiences for your good. He will use them for His glory. Your experiences are your story and your story has power. It has the power to change people. Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and share your testimony.”

I smiled.

God himself told me in that moment that, no matter how bad I got…no matter how messy my life was…no matter how dysfunctional I had been…He had saved me. HE came for ME! He left the 99 and came for the ONE. And when He found me, He carried me on His shoulders back to the flocks and announced to all…”Look, I’ve found my lost sheep! Come! Help me celebrate!”

I know God has great things in store for me. I anticipate the unexpected, just like Christine Caine preaches in her book, Unexpected: Leave Fear Behind, Move Forward in Faith, Embrace the Adventure. Yes, sometimes the unexpected is bad. But, sometimes it is amazing. I could never in a million years have imagined back when I was in the throes of torment…where I’d be today. I am so incredibly grateful that Jesus never gave up on me. He pursued me relentlessly because He had a plan. He knew what I was capable of. I am so humbled by His Love. Through Him, I can turn a dark and painful time into a testimony of the Goodness of God

On this…Palm Sunday…remember the triumphal return of Jesus to Jerusalem is also the beginning of Holy Week. It is the true beginning of the end of His earthly walk. May you all be blessed and humbled in the coming week.

❤️

““What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish.”
Matthew 18:12-14 NIV

Always be Humble and Kind

Sat, 13 Apr 2019 01:30:37 -0600

“I love when God sends me a not-so-gentle reminder to chill out!”

As I’m writing this, I’m propped up in bed, the windows flung wide, the peepers peeping their springtime love song. It is 10:30pm…I just finished a long and particularly grueling day sitting in front of my computer, doing my taxes. One frustration after another…but I doggedly pressed on with only a couple of short tempered outbursts. Finally…finally I got it all filled out and pressed “send” only to find out, yet again, my laptop won’t connect to the internet. I mean…it SAYS it’s connected, but I get a page that says “Cannot find page. Check your internet connection.” It works elsewhere, just not here. So, I said enough is enough for one day and I will pick it up tomorrow….today to you.

In preparation for a day that could be stress-filled, I spent an extra long time in scripture before I got out of bed. I read my devotionals. I listened to a little praise music. I put on the full armor of God. And still, after twelve hours in front of the screen, I found my stress level rising. Poor Mr. FixIt steered clear of me most of the day and when he did have to sit with me, he was very loving and supportive. Good man.

When I finally called it quits for the day, I was too tired to even go out to TOW-Wanda to write…something I really look forward to when the weather is warm. I came into the bedroom to write, fully prepared to let loose a diatribe about how darned frustrating it is to spend a whole day on the taxes only to find out you have to pay a BOATLOAD. I climbed into bed, set up my little lap desk, opened my iPad, and God smacked me right between the eyes.

There, staring back at me was a picture of a woman squatting down in front of an absolutely emaciated young child…so tiny and frail and nothing but skin and bones. She’s holding a water bottle up to the child’s lips….the little one with her head tipped back, gratefully taking a sip as she clings to a crust of bread in her tiny hand.

I am humbled…ashamed of my anger and frustration that I felt only seconds before.

Look what I have. A roof over my head, food on my table, clean water and air, a warm bed to sleep in, health, family…God.

Yes, paying a big tax bill was not what I expected. But you know what? Just two weeks ago, God gave me a hefty settlement check for the accident I was in two years ago. I had a brain bleed, but can walk and talk. I lost four months of my memory, but my family didn’t have to lay me in the ground. And that check will cover my taxes and then some.

There is always something to be grateful for. ALWAYS.

Thank you, God…for your provision. And for the stern reminder of how good I have it. You are a good, good Father.

❤️

“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” Ephesians 4:2 NIV

Memory Recall

Thu, 11 Apr 2019 01:30:10 -0600

“Photos of childhood memories can bridge the miles between you and your children.”

Sometimes it’s hard to reach my kids, both literally and figuratively. They have busy lives. Jobs, families, houses…they don’t have a lot of time to visit with their mom. I get that. I was in their shoes. So, instead of whining about it and pulling more than a nominal guilt trip, I have taken to sending them pictures of things I find on Pinterest. Not just any old thing. Things that will stir a memory of their childhoods and make them smile whether they have time to talk or not.

One such photo was this one. It is identical to the kitchen we lived in when she was little and her daddy was in medical school. She remembered the sink, she said. But I know, if she remembered the sink, she thought of all the times I canned our food and baked our bread. She might have thought of the times we set up the tent in the backyard so she could have a sleepover. I’m sure she thought of the slumber party I let her have in the Vanagon camper with the pop top. We were still finding peanut M&M’s months later. Maybe she thought of the Christmas Eve Blizzard when we spent the day pushing people out of the ditch in front of the house. Or the time she rode her bike on the church parking lot down the street and almost put her eye out on a tree branch.

I miss being close to my kids. Maybe by this time, if I hadn’t have found Mr. FixIt, I might have been back there…or at least spend more time in Colorado. But, just as my girls have lives…so do I. I just have to make the most of the time I do have with them when I am there.

I spent yesterday at the farm again. I made great progress on the paperwork I’m doing. Tomorrow I can wrap it up and we can do our taxes and be done with it. I promise myself every year that I wont procrastinate next year…and here we are. Down to the wire yet again. Maybe next year!

❤️

“But everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.” 1 Corinthians 14:40 NIV

Bad Night - Great Day

Wed, 10 Apr 2019 01:30:54 -0600

“Resist the devil and he will flee.”

I remember back in the first two to three years of my grief, I often had what I referred to as “bad nights”. Nights were especially difficult from the beginning. Too many hours stretched ahead with too much time to think…especially since I had such a hard time sleeping. It didn’t take much to send my mind chasing rabbits and soon a thought would have me in a tailspin. I spent SO many nights alternating between gripping the mattress and throwing up. All. Night. Long. It was brutal.

Thankfully, that finally evened out. Partially from time and healing, but mostly because I got a grip on my anxiety once I learned it’s source. Some may call it a trick of the mind, but I have been much more successful in not only controlling my anxiety, but sending it packing altogether. Prayer and petition to God to come in and bring me comfort helps tremendously. One thing has really helped me and the old me would have rolled my eyes with a “Right…sure…ok.”

That one thing is banishing Satan. The enemy comes to rob, steal, and destroy. He is the force behind the thoughts “You can’t handle anything.” “You will always have anxiety.” “I’ll make sure you are miserable all the days of your life…this will never get better.” When I feel anxiety creeping in, I talk out loud now. I just tell the old goat to get the heck away from me because I don’t believe his stinking lies.

The second thing I do is listen to praise music. I have discovered if I’m having anxiety and I start playing praise music and singing along, the anxiety dissipates. I cannot be anxious and upset while praising Jesus.

And…I’m human. Sometimes I forget to do those things and I get caught with my guard down. That’s what happened on Monday when we drove by my dad’s house and saw it had been torn down. I immediately felt sick and I let things spiral. I felt horrible and out of control. I could hardly eat a thing and that night, after writing my post, I tried eating a bowl of cereal and immediately got sick.

I did excuse myself to the guest bedroom so as not to interrupt Mr. FixIt’s sleep. I took something to settle my stomach and I read the Bible and listened to praise music. And I asked God to send his angels to wrap their wings around me and keep me safe. I immediately fell into a deep sleep and awoke refreshed and feeling much better.

I knew I needed to spend some time at the farm, though. The Farm is my touchstone. I drove out and sorted through my papers to prepare the taxes. I drank coffee and walked around the yard looking at Grandma’s posies. Once the paperwork was sorted, I took a little snooze in Grandma’s bed and finally headed back to The Ponderosa.

Mr. FixIt did yard work all day. The field looked like a well manicured golf course. He wanted to show me some things so we walked the entire five acres, hand-in-hand, marveling at the spring beauty. We inched through a rose bramble to look for arrowheads on the creek-bank. We moved an old fallen tree. We found violets in the grass and looked for frogs in the ditch along the road.

Last night, just before bed, we went out back in our robes and slippers and held hands while we counted stars. The “bad night” of the night before wasn’t even in my memory. It had been banished with a stern warning…spoken aloud…”Get away from me Satan…you have no dominion over me!” He isn’t as powerful as he would like you to think he is. He can’t read our thoughts so we must speak aloud to him.

Every time I get closer to Jesus…every time I raise my hand in church and further commit my heart to Christ…the enemy swings hard. He does this for the precise reason…he knows I’m a threat. He knows who lives in my heart…who is my true north. And he hates that. That’s ok. I can do hard things. I can have a “bad night” if it means I get so much greatness on the other side.

❤️

“Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” James 4:7 NIV

TOW-Wanda III: Day 1 - Cleanup

Sun, 07 Apr 2019 01:30:52 -0600

“The first thing that had to go was the bunk bed over the main bed.”

The first thing I did yesterday…after coffee, of course…was head out to the new camper. I could hardly sleep the night before, I was so excited. I didn’t realize how very much I missed my first camper till I got a load of this one! I hooked it up to electric and checked out the systems again. The air conditioning worked fine. I cleaned the filter screen in the AC unit so it works more efficiently. The fan, lights, and microwave. I haven’t checked the refrigerator yet.

Mr. FixIt was kind enough to bring a ladder and some RV cleaning products out to the camper for me as well as a hose and scrub brush. I started scrubbing with an RV wash/wax combo and followed up with a Norwex cleaning cloth and Norwex cleaning paste to get the black streaks off. I rinsed it well and checked inside…NO LEAKS! Yesssss! No leaks is a good thing…especially with a 2007 camper. This thing is built exceedingly well.

The camper is a Cikira Classic Cruiser 18FB…which roughly translates to an 18 foot camper with a front bed. From what I can find, Cikira RV wasn’t around for very long, but I don’t think that was because they lacked a quality product. If this camper is any indication, the quality is excellent. The RV industry isn’t easy to break into. But more importantly, look at the date of my camper. The economy in 2007 was booming and people were traveling a lot. Then 2008 came and the bottom fell out of the market. No one was spending money on anything extra. I know…that’s when I had to close my needlework shop. Hobbies like camping and needlework are the first to go when it comes to extraneous expenses.

Once I had the outside walls scrubbed down, I opened the awning and gave it a good wash. I left it open to dry in our beautiful 72 degree weather and closed it up before dusk so it wouldn’t gather the dew. Then it was time to head indoors. The first thing that had to go was the bunk bed overtop the main bed. The previous owners had a 10 year old daughter who loved the bunk above, but it was too confining to lay underneath it and I knew I would hit my head every time is sat down. The bunk was secured with sturdy angle iron and the plywood base was screwed securely to it. I removed the twin size memory foam mattress and Mr. FixIt helped me carry it down to the storage room. We can use it for an extra if we have overflow company.

The front piece of the bunk bed was a long piece of heavy angle iron attached to a decorative wood front. I removed that piece but left the other three pieces of angle iron connected to the three walls above the windows. This way, if we ever need the bunk bed again, we can pop it back in easily enough. Taking that bunk out opened up the entire bed area and made it much more comfortable, roomy, and light. By this time I was fried so I gave in and snuggled up on my new bed and took a nap.

So, our blessings continue. Our great granddaughter is being dedicated to Jesus in church this morning! My heart is so happy!

❤️

“And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.”
Mark 10:16 NIV

Vibrant Women

Mon, 01 Apr 2019 01:30:37 -0600

“Vibrant Women…a women’s ministry.”

Something phenomenal happened Friday night and it has taken me this long to process it. Actually, I’m sure I’ll be processing it for some time to come. We have a husband-wife team leading our church. It has been wonderful to watch Pastor Heather growing into a strong leader for the women of our region. A little over three years ago, God planted a seed in her to lead a Women’s Ministry. She gathered her friends together, told them her ideas for this movement, and asked them to start feeding her possible names. When she heard “Vibrant Women”, she was moved. Vigorous. Energetic. Lively. Vital. All words that resonated with where she wanted to go with this movement….words that described women of strong faith.

This was the third Vibrant Women event held at our church…the second I have attended. It’s come a long way since the beginning. I think there might have been two-hundred women at the first one. Friday night saw almost SEVEN HUNDRED women packed into our church. There wasn’t a seat in the house. The sound booth said at one point the decibel scale peaked out at the same level as a jet engine. It was crazy fun. The energy level in that room was amazing.

We had a guest pastor…Pastor April Carter of the Together Church in Yakima, Washington. Pastor April spoke about Living Beyond Fear. Oh….she touched every single one of us. At the end of her message, she told a personal story. Someone who works in her church called her…panic stricken. Then he arrived home, his house was surrounded by police, fire, and ambulance crews. They would not let him in the house. The only thing he knew was, something happened that involved his son. Pastor April and Pastor Micahn headed to the hospital to meet them.

As they sat there, waiting for word of what was going on, she absentmindedly fingered a necklace she was wearing that a friend gave her. It is engraved…”I Can Do Hard Things”. The time dragged slowly by. They prayed together. They held each other up. And, finally…the doctor came out. Their friends’ son had gotten his hands on a gun and somehow accidentally shot himself. And they could not save him. Pastor April closed her eyes and repeated to herself…

“I can do hard things. I can do hard things. I can do hard things.”

Since Mr. Virgo died, I haven’t been so good in medical emergencies. There have been times I haven’t been able to show up for people who need me to do hard things. Pastor April challenged us to put on our boxing gloves and get in the ring of life and fight. Listening to her, I felt empowered. I felt stronger. I felt like trying harder and being the best version of myself I can be. I mean, isn’t that what faith does for us?

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Even the hard things.

We were doubly blessed in that Pastor April delivered our message at church yesterday too so we got to hear her twice this weekend. I googled her name on YouTube last night and there was a message called “Hard Reset”. You should give it a listen if you are interested. She is very good.

❤️

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”
Philippians 4:13 NIV

My Friends

Fri, 29 Mar 2019 01:30:06 -0600

“The little whitetail deer of West Virginia are so delicate and fine boned compared to the larger mule deer of Colorado.”

Thursday nights have been fun the last three weeks because I’ve spent the evening at the local pizza shop…munching on yummy pizza and people watching. Last night, my friend Charlotte came to have dinner with me and catch up. Charlotte and her husband, my second cousin Rick, are the couple that took my farm cats down to their barn to live. She says they are doing really well. As a matter of fact, four or five beautiful ducks showed up recently and have taken up residence with the cats and a plethora of roosters. A lot of times, people end up with more roosters than they need to get the job done and they end up down at Charlotte’s barn. She has quite a menagerie now. Next week, my small group meetings begin for our Spring session so I won’t be hanging out at the pizza joint for a while.

The other night, I came out to the camper with Mr. FixIt’s headlamp on my head. As I was unlocking the door, something caught my attention and I turned to my left. The light swept across the big field and it looked like the lions of the Serengeti out there. Nothing but eyes shining back at me from just above the grass level. There must have been a dozen deer bedded down out there and at first, it was downright spooky till I figured out what they were.

We don’t have any new babies yet. It won’t be long before we see little spotted fawns gamboling about in the fields of The Ponderosa. Once in a while, we sleep out in the camper now that the weather is getting warmer. When Mr. FixIt joined me the other evening, a huge possum was standing just outside the camper and about scared the stink out of him. The furnace was running and I had the music on so I didn’t hear him yelling.

I haven’t smelled any skunks out yet. The birds are starting to nest in the eaves. We have had a problem with swallows nesting in the chimney so we need to get it covered before too long or they’ll be back. I noticed the mockingbird was back this week. It sits on the old TV antenna above our bedroom window, its distinctive call sounding like a multitude of birds. I’m waiting to hear the whip-poor-wills and the owls.

Tonight is the women’s conference at my church and I’m really looking forward to going with my bonus girls. Afterward, I’m headed to the Girl Camper weekend and the Camper College near Huntington. A fun girl’s weekend!

Mr. FixIt is making great progress on the master bath now and the flooring is about to go down. He did a wonderful job on the drywall. That is something I never did in all of my renovation projects. It’s hard to handle a full sheet of drywall by yourself. Fortunately, he only had to patch a few places. Hopefully we get this project done soon as there are many more in the lineup and the weather is getting nicer every day. We are about to head into our warmest week yet and it’s none too soon!

Happy Friday, everyone. I hope you are going to go out and enjoy this beautiful spring weather in your neck of the woods!

❤️

““But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.” Job 12:7-10 NIV

The Ponderosa

Wed, 27 Mar 2019 01:30:52 -0600

“The Ponderosa is the land I have dreamed of all my life.”

I’ve still been recuperating from this bronchitis/cold/virus/allergy thing. Kind of laying low, taking care of myself. To keep from re-infecting Mr. FixIt (he already had this last month), I’ve been spending a lot of time out in TOW-Wanda…resting, reading, writing, napping, cogitating. It has been very good for me to spend so much time in my little house on wheels. It certainly made winter go by MUCH quicker!

As I was writing this yesterday, I was stretched out in my “sun room”…the slide-out in my camper. It is actually the dinette, but it collapses down and makes a twin-sized bed and I actually have a mattress in there. I have piles of pillows and comfy blankets all around so it’s a nice little cocoon in which to snuggle and write and dream.

An e-mail came in while I was writing and it took me back probably ten years or so. It was from a site called Land Watch. Many years ago, I was trying to convince Mr. Virgo that it would be a very good idea to move back home to West Virginia. He humored me and looked at the farms and land I found. He half-heartedly searched for B&B’s for sale here and in the surrounding states. But, he came from Pennsylvania…he lived a long time in Florida…all with the goal of ultimately living in Colorado. His Nirvana. I think if push came to shove, he would have moved here for me…but he wouldn’t have been happy. God had different plans anyway because he took Mr. Virgo to His home before I could take him to mine.

As I looked at that e-mail and thought of all those times I dreamed of having a few acres in West Virginia, I looked out the windows of TOW-Wanda at the fields and far hills of the Ponderosa and smiled. I have what I have always dreamed of having. A faith-filled life. A wonderful family…biological and bonus. And land…a garden, grass, trees, flowers. TWO farms, actually. I’m doubly blessed. I had no idea ten years ago I would realize my lifelong dream but it wouldn’t look at all like I thought it would. It’s funny how life plays out.

I took the liberty of blurring out some identifying features in the photo above. There’s a neighbor up at the top there…I blurred out their home. And I blurred out the roads and route numbers that were on the map. But it gives you an excellent view of the Ponderosa. All that green there? That’s what we mow! This satellite image was taken at least two and a half years ago because the maple is still in the front yard. It fell in late 2016 or early 2017. You can see the curved drive where there are two campers parked. My TOW-Wanda sits where that blue dot is on the map.

Nature is getting ready to show off…things are getting green. The trees are starting to bud. The forsythia are blooming, as are the daffodils. They were stunted somewhat by the polar vortex, I think. They are much shorter than usual. We were walking through the yard on Monday and realized it won’t be long till we need to mow it. It will be at least a month before we get the pool ready. As I am writing this, the sun is shining. We are at our high for the day…51 degrees. We are going to our Alma Mater’s Girl’s Softball game this evening to watch one of the granddaughters play. It is a good life we live and I still have to pinch myself sometimes to believe I’m really here.

❤️

“He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters,” Psalm 23:2 NIV

Widowed or Single?

Tue, 26 Mar 2019 01:30:29 -0600

“Has the mental image of ‘widow’ changed all that much?

One of my friends shared a post with me yesterday. Ironically, it turns out I know the woman who wrote it. And, I know her well enough to understand what she meant by what she said about being called a widow. The writer, Jan, said she didn’t like the term “widow” because it conjures up this preconceived notion of “old” and “feeble”. As she says, we live in an era where ageism runs rampant. Our gray hair and social mores puts the widow in an unenviable position on more levels than grief alone.

Jan says she hates going into doctor’s offices and filling out the forms, having to select widowed or single. She has taken to saying she is “single-by-death” because, she DOES feel single. I’m all for changing the vernacular and the image of widows. Of course, the early throes of acute grief is a time where most of us feel old beyond our years, lost, destined to a life of lonely sadness. After that period of crisis, we do begin…in our own time…to heal and move forward. I don’t know any widow who wants to be looked down on and pitied. In this day and age, widows aren’t a bunch of doddering old ladies wearing black and sitting in the corner crying all the time.

I hated the term widow, too. I thoroughly resented it at first because I was very, very busy trying to pretend he didn’t die. Calling me a widow just turned a spotlight on my spectacular ruse and left me with nothing but shadow puppets of my former life. I sometimes rebelliously referred to myself as “single-by-chance” simply because I hated the word death as much as I hated the word widow. “Single-by-chance” could cover a lot of situations…death, divorce, break-ups. I liked it. But eventually, I just went with widow and tried to show what one looks like by pulling a huge camper across the country alone and dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly and going into the wilderness and backroads of Colorado for three months…alone.

In researching photos for this post, I Googled “widow”. There was a plethora of images of spiders and Scarlet Johansson in a black latex catsuit with the occasional Civil War era tintype of a haunted woman in black thrown in for good measure. This got me to thinking…if Google is any indication, maybe the world isn’t as obsessed with the word “widow” as widows themselves are. Widowhood and grief are lonely pursuits. We are singular. We are rather myopic. We have lost half of our whole. At least, we have for a while. Eventually, half reduces itself…bit by tiny little bit.

I was widowed…singled-by-chance…surely not by choice. Now that Mr. FixIt and I have married, when I relate my story in my work as a speaker and a writer, I say I was widowed. I suppose in the absolute vernacular, I am a widow. But that is a far smaller piece of who I am today than it used to be. I think that’s the way it should be…for me.

That’s the beauty of language and social norms. We can change things. We can change the words and the images of who we are in the world today. Who we are and how we want to be seen. What works for one may not work for another. Be who…or what…you are. Empirical evidence says…I am a Child of God…first and foremost. The rest is superfluous.

❤️

““Cursed is anyone who withholds justice from the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow.” Then all the people shall say, “Amen!””
Deuteronomy 27:19 NIV

Sunday Memories

Sun, 24 Mar 2019 01:30:54 -0600

“Grandma always carried a fresh hanky wherever she went.”

I was looking through my picture albums on my iPad yesterday. I sometimes browse to find old memories that stir up a story for you. This one did just that. I’ve been writing about The Farm since early on in this blog. Grandma’s farm holds a king-sized piece of real estate in my heart so my stories often center around my memories there. And, since I am knee deep in editing my rough draft for the book, I have been writing and re-reading these stories.

For as far back as I can remember, my grandma tied a shiny dime in the corner of a clean hanky and gave one to each of us kids to take to church. The hanky for our little noses…the shiny dime for the collection plate. Then Pop-Pop gave us each a stick of Beeman’s gum. Actually, we only got half a stick till we got older. I can remember when I ‘graduated’ to a full stick…I felt so grown up.

“Bethel Chapel…the little church on the hill. I drew this picture June 28, 2001…sitting on the sidewalk out front.”

The little church-house up on the hill has been there since June 9, 1914. It hasn’t had a lot done to it in all those years. Two rooms were built on the back for classrooms and an indoor bathroom…something we didn’t have the pleasure of when I was growing up. The windows have been replaced. The belfry was listing to one side so it’s been shored up. It has been painted countless times over the years. When my cousin Rick and his wife Charlotte got married, my Aunt Peeps painted that church all by herself so it would be fresh for the wedding. That woman loved to paint!

I have some really wonderful memories of that little church. And I’ve had some of my most traumatic there. This was the church where the little circuit preacher literally scared the pee out of me and I headed off to find God some other way. That led me to eventually becoming Jewish for twenty-seven years, and now…here I am…full circle and back to my roots. This was also the church where my parents were married, where my Pop-Pop was one of the lay-ministers, and where his funeral was held. Many Sundays I sat in the hard wooden pews as a little girl with my feet dangling mid-air, clutching my little hanky and worrying out the knot to get my dime ready for the collection. Many Sundays, Aunt Idy played the rickety old piano…it’s keys sticking and horribly out of tune.

Aunt Idy lived in a crooked white house. She was a tiny, frail little thing…never married. She helped care for her invalid sister and brother and she was my grandma’s best friend. Once a week, Aunty Idy called to get the latest “news” for the Ritchie County Gazette. She wrote the column about the latest goings on up Dutchman road and Grandma always cringed when she saw something about herself in the paper. She abided by the rule “Fool’s names, like their faces, always seen in public places.” It was usually something like “so-and-so had a visit this week from such-and-such from somewhere” or “Mr. & Mrs. Somebody went to Parkersburg this week to see the doctor. All were given a clean bill of heath!” Thank God Grandma never told her about hemorrhoids!

Grandma’s hankies. I have a couple of them somewhere in my things…the things I couldn’t part with. I don’t know that my kids will be interested…or even my grandkids. So, maybe when it’s my time to go, I’ll tie a shiny dime in the corner and go looking for Grandma.

❤️

“Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. As it is written: “They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor; their righteousness endures forever.”” 2 Corinthians 9:6-9 NIV

The Bodega

Sat, 23 Mar 2019 01:30:29 -0600

“Coffee at The Bodega”

I decided to treat myself yesterday and stopped in the brand new coffee house that just opened. The Bodega. In Spanish, bodega actually means grocery store. But a broader meaning is a meeting place where you get supplies. I knew when I walked into this sweet storefront…this wasn’t your average run-of-the-mill coffee house. There was something special going on here.

The atmosphere is soft, inviting, with a great big overstuffed sofa with a soft blanket and pillows. Next to it was a huge, supple leather chair. Small tables, fresh flowers, and a sort of fresh vintage farmhouse vibe made the place very comfortable. I ordered one of the homemade cinnamon rolls and a latte. Both were delicious. The staff were warm and inviting and are willing to accommodate the Coffee Divas when we gather for our monthly caffeine infusions.

As I sipped my latte, I caught the music overhead…worship music. I have been immersing myself in praise music lately. I find my spirit uplifted and my writing goes much more smoothly when I get into the Word and Praise more. Then, when I am actually writing, I listen to the Nature Sounds station on Pandora. If I listen to praise music while I write, all I want to do is sing!

The owner of the coffee shop was a missionary in Honduras for some time. While there, they had a gathering place where they received their marching orders for the day. They called it The Bodega because a lot of good things came into and went out of their doors. When she came back to the states, she took some time to heal and ponder how she could create such a place here. There are so many within the surrounding area who need loved on and lifted up.

After countless “what ifs” she decided to just go for it and jumped in with both feet and thus, The Bodega was born. The owner is looking forward to seeing what kind of great things God has in mind for this little oasis. And so am I.

❤️

“He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.” Mark 16:15 NIV

Mother of the Bride

Fri, 22 Mar 2019 01:30:19 -0600

“I am hoping this is the one!”

The last time I was a Mother of the Bride was in 1995. It’s been a while. I’m an entirely different person this time around than I was when my older daughter got married. I was a hyper-involved helicopter mom back then. Just ask my daughter. She will tell you that she really had very little to do with her wedding because it was MY party. Many years of therapy later, I can now see that I lived the life I wished I’d had vicariously through her. I had terrible stage fright. She was in theater. SO cool! I wasn’t popular or athletic enough to be a cheerleader. She was. Uber awesome! She had cool friends that I got to hang out with. She got to go to college and live in a dorm! I was positively green with envy. She married the first young man she met in college and they were (and still are) perfect for each other. I wanted the fairy tail life she had. She loved me because I was her mom. But she hated me all the same. And I don’t blame her.

As her little sister, sixteen years her junior, was growing up, I can’t count the times Daughter #1 huffed at me because she wasn’t allowed to do this or that like her little sister. “She gets away with murder!” “You would have killed me if I did that!” She’s right, of course. I was already too tired to fly that helicopter over the young one and I had a crapload of my own issues by that time. Siblings are different anyway…but the difference between these two is remarkable.

Consequently, I am hardly involved with Daughter #2’s wedding. For one thing, I live on the other side of the country. For another thing, she and her fiancée have incredibly eclectic taste and their’s will hardly resemble a traditional wedding. I’m just tickled to pieces she has found someone whose beat matches her own. I’m happy to show up with a smile and stand where she tells me. This is going to chap her sister’s hide, I can assure you. But it is what it is.

I am actually going to be the Co-Matron of Honor at this wedding…a position I will happily share with her BFF, Lizzie. When I asked my daughter what she wanted me to wear, she said she didn’t really care as long as it was in the colors they chose for the occasion. Royal Purple and Hunter Green. I laughed and thought maybe I could wear Gold Lame and we could throw beads and pretend it’s Mardi Gras! You can clearly see my thinking is different now than in the ‘90s.

I chose to go with purple instead of the dark green. For one reason, the green just sounded way too hot to me and this little soirée takes place the first weekend in August. Also, I look better in purple. And, it’s a little bit easier to find appropriate attire this time of year if you look for spring colors.

I’ve been scouring the dress shops in our little burg and the selection is somewhat limited. I really don’t want to spend a boat load of money on a dress I will more than likely only wear once and since she doesn’t really care, I’ll go the least expensive route. I’ve scanned the internet and finally found this dress. I like it. It will hide a multitude of self-perceived “flaws” in case I don’t lose as much weight as I would like…a task I am hard-pressed to accomplish if I continue to eat pizza like I did as I wrote this. I did break one of my cardinal rules ordering this dress. I believe it is coming from one of those foreign clothing manufacturers and I have no idea if it will look anything like the picture. It was less than $40 so I’m not getting my hopes up, but if it’s a fiasco I’m not out a ton of money. I’ll let you know if/when I receive it.

In the meantime, the plans continue, my smile is ready, and it will be a beautiful day.

❤️

“We are careful to be honorable before the Lord, but we also want everyone else to see that we are honorable.” 2 Corinthians 8:21 NLT

A Night Out

Mon, 18 Mar 2019 01:30:21 -0600

“I love vintage embroidered linens.”

When we finally got home from town after church yesterday, I went out to TOW-Wanda and started getting her ready for the camping season. And, by getting her ready I mean I made the bed. And got in it. There’s nothing better than a good book in your camper on a Sunday afternoon. That, and a little snooze.

As I was getting the linens out to dress the bed, I came across these pillow cases. The blue and white one was purchased as part of a set made from antique German linens I purchased in Colorado in the ‘80s. The antique dealer had them embroidered…the pillow cases with the scroll embroidery and the shams with “Good Morning” and “Good Night”. I love this set and had forgotten the pillowcase had made it’s way into my camper at some point.

The other pillowcase is from a set I had my mom embroider when she came to Colorado one time. She used to embroider all the time and I loved the idea of having something she made to carry with me forever. It makes me smile and think of her.

I sent my manuscript to the proofreader last week. There were a few typos she highlighted for me. And, there were a couple of notes to areas that needed fleshing out in my book. She mentioned she wanted to know more about my mom and our relationship. When I curled up under the covers in TOW-Wanda yesterday, I thought of my mom…Wanda. I picked up my iPad and wrote more about this kind and loving soul who was my mother. She was one of a kind and I loved listening to the rain on the roof as I walked down memory lane with my mom.

Mother-daughter relationships can be tricky. My mom and I butted heads a lot. In all honesty, I was always a little too big for my britches, as my grandma would have put it. I was married to a doctor. I had a career in medicine. I had traveled a lot more and had lived in big cities. I fancied myself ever so much more sophisticated than my mom. It wasn’t until after the overdose that I realized what a horse’s patoot I had been to my poor mother. The only defense I have is the fact I was on Prozac for so many years and it changed my personality so that I really didn’t care much about others.

Fortunately, I got off all the meds and alcohol and grew up quite a bit so that my mom and I had a much better relationship the last few years of her life. It would have been so terribly sad if she would have died before we got to that point. She has been gone for 15 years now…so hard to believe. I am so happy I have tangible reminders of her and that I chose to keep them when I downsized. There are some things you just can’t get rid of and this pillowcase is one of them.

When Mr. FixIt came home, he came out and joined me in TOW-Wanda and we spent the night in the camper…our first night out for 2019. Maybe it’s not quite camping weather because they were predicting a bit of snow overnight, but we had plenty of cozy comforters and a furnace to keep us warm. Bring on the camping season!!!

❤️

““Honor your father and mother.” This is the first commandment with a promise: If you honor your father and mother, “things will go well for you, and you will have a long life on the earth.””
Ephesians 6:2-3 NLT

Fancy Meeting Jew Here

Sat, 16 Mar 2019 01:30:21 -0600

“You don’t see tzitzit around these parts very often.”

The other evening, I was home by myself and had a hankering for pizza. I’ll bet I have had one slice of pizza in the last six years and Giovanni’s was calling my name. Mr. FixIt doesn’t like this place so, since he wasn’t at home, I decided to go by myself. Ohhhhhh, I wasn’t sorry. Although the crust was just the slightest bit too soft on the bottom center, it was overall divine!

I threw caution to the wind and had them paint the crust with garlic butter. What the heck…I’d already blown any semblance of health food out of the water with this endeavor, might as well take it all the way! A wonderful sauce, a little skimpy on the pepperoni, generous on the mushrooms and the cheese was that perfect cross between crispy brown and ooooey-gooooey perfection. Ah, yes…I thoroughly enjoyed that.

I took my iPad with me so I could write in the restaurant and make an evening of it. As I was setting up, a man and his little girl walked in the door. I saw twenty people walk in the door that evening. None of them made an impression like this guy. The first thing I noticed was his tzitzit…the specially knotted tassels on his tallit katan…an undergarment traditionally worn under an observant Jew’s clothing. The second thing I noticed was his kippah, also known as a yarmulke…the skullcap Jewish men wear.

I looked at him and smiled in amusement. This is not something you normally see in small town West Virginia…very, VERY small town. Having lived as a Jew for twenty-seven years, I am quite familiar with the trappings of Judaism and I just had to know more about this guy. He went to the counter and picked up his pizzas and filled his drink cups. I finally caught his eye.

“You don’t see tzitzit around these parts very often.” I smiled.

“You don’t see very many people around here who know what they are.” He smiled back and shook my hand. “Mike.”

I took his hand in mine. “Ginny. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Turns out, Mike is originally from West Virginia but he lived in Israel for a long time. He met his Israeli wife there. Their oldest child was born in Israel. The baby was born here. We had a really interesting conversation about the reception he gets in small town America. He said in this little town, it’s fine…but in my hometown of Parkersburg, he has had some negative experiences. Hate is such an ugly thing. I truly believe the hate he (and I, myself) experienced is one of ignorance. It’s a family disease when you live your whole life without meeting anyone much different than yourself.

There isn’t much of a Jewish Congregation in Parkersburg…and none to my knowledge in the surrounding countryside. There used to be a small synagogue in town, but I don’t believe it’s there anymore. To make matters worse, Mike is a Messianic Jew…meaning he is Jewish, but he has accepted Jesus. In all actuality, I could be considered a Messianic Jew because I still feel a special kinship to the Jewish people. Many of my family members are Jewish.

Jews don’t necessarily take kindly to Messianic Jews. They do not believe Jesus is the Messiah. So they don’t consider a Messianic Jew to be…well, Jewish. And Christians don’t quite get it either. Here you have someone who says he has accepted Jesus, but is wearing the traditional garb of the Jewish people. They get kind of stuck in the middle.

I have a personal understanding of this position. When I came to West Virginia for Thanksgiving one year, I had a family member tell me to put my Star of David inside my sweater so I wouldn’t upset our Grandma. Let me tell you…I had a little quiet discussion with her and told her my Grandma loved me for who I was, and didn’t love me any less for my beliefs. I threatened to make the discussion a little louder right there in the dining room in front of the whole family and she backed off. I’ll stand up for the underdog any day of the week and I have to tell you…discrimination stings. I had never, ever experienced that before and it was terrible.

I handed Mike my business card and asked him to have his wife contact me. I’d love to befriend them and normalize the Judeo-Christian experience for them here. I know there are those who are highly suspicious of Messianic Jews because of the “Jews for Jesus” movement, but I don’t categorize people…I just love them. I thought to myself, maybe others will come to be accepting of them as well. I waved to them as they headed out the door and I sat back and smiled. Nope, you just never know what you might find in small town America. I think I may have found a gem.

❤️

“Remember your leaders, those who spoke God’s message to you. Reflect on the results of their way of life, and imitate their trust — Yeshua the Messiah is the same yesterday, today and forever.” Messianic Jews (Heb) 13:7-8 CJB

Tap Tap Tap

Mon, 11 Mar 2019 01:30:31 -0600

“Typing away…tap, tap, tap!”

I am back to work on the book. I’m editing the first rough draft and it’s going really well, actually. My prayer going into this was to have a cheerful heart and find joy in the process. It’s amazing what a change in attitude can do in making a normally arduous task into something of a pleasure. Fresh eyes and a little distance gives you a new perspective and it’s easier to identify where the story needs polishing.

I took yesterday off. Grandma always instructed us to keep the Sabbath. She told me if I ever sewed anything on Sunday, I’d spend all of eternity picking it out with my teeth. I can approach editing with more joy than before, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend all eternity doing it! We went to church with the family and then brunch.

I bought the piece to fix the toilet at the farm. I need to fill the propane tanks for TOW-Wanda. Then I can hole up in the camper and write. Oh…and I finally took down the Christmas tree. I figured it was time with the spring forward thing!

We had such a lovely warm day yesterday. We got out of the truck after church and the peepers were singing! That is definitely the harbinger of spring. We made it through another winter!

Oh, I wanted to tell you about something that happened last week. Actually, it started about a month ago. I had a small mole on my temple that suddenly started to grow. I didn’t think much of it, but when it became tender and was really getting quite noticeable, I figured it was about time to call the dermatologist to go in and have it taken off.

Then I heard a sermon on healings. The premise was to not only pray for the healing….but to believe in the healing and thank God for it as if it had already occurred. Last week, I placed my finger on the growth and thanked God for taking it away for me. I just believed it was gone. I really wish I would have taken a picture of the growth for proof because…in two days’ time, it quite literally dried up and fell off! I run my fingers over the smooth skin where this growth was and I am just so amazed. Power of suggestion? Placebo effect? Nah…I’m going with divine intervention! Isn’t that amazing? ❤️

“Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.” Jeremiah 17:14 NIV

A New Perspective

Fri, 08 Mar 2019 02:30:44 -0600

“It never occurred to me to apply the Serenity Prayer to grief, but it makes perfect sense.”

I used to be a social drinker. For a long time, I told myself that anyway. And, I suppose it was true if you considered every day having at least one, maybe two glasses of wine with dinner…”social” drinking. I mean…I WAS with people, right? I never really saw it as a problem. When I was pregnant with my second daughter, I didn’t drink at all and it never bothered me. After she was born, I had a small glass of wine in the evenings. The doctor said it was good for me and it relaxed the baby. Whatever the doctor says, right?

Once the baby was weaned, I was back to my two glasses every day. It didn’t really become a problem till the last year I was with Hubby #2. My marriage was on the rocks. I couldn’t fix it and I couldn’t face losing it. So, we put doilies on the elephant in the room and I mixed a pitcher of Martinis…for myself…before dinner. If it wasn’t Martinis, it was Tequila…or really good Scotch…or stiff Bloody Mary’s…or a bottle of excellent Cabernet. I was self medicating…and that was a problem.

It interfered with my relationships…with my husband, with my kids, with my friends. I knew my marriage was circling the drain and I was going down with the ship. It wasn’t till after the overdose that I saw the light. I woke up in the ICU and knew I’d hit rock bottom and something had to change. I’ve never touched a drop since January 5th, 2000. And I can honestly say, I’ve never had the slightest craving, not the tiniest bit of desire to drink alcohol or take prescription pain meds. Nothing.

For a period of time, I went to AA meetings…nine months, maybe. I know there are people who work that program and it saves lives. I know that for a fact. I also know, God can lift that burden off of you in a heartbeat because I am living proof of that. For the longest time, I only related the Serenity Prayer to AA. It is recited at the meetings, so I took a narrow view of its usefulness.

What if…what if we use the Serenity Prayer on grief?

“God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change;”

To this, we can say….”God, I cannot change the fact that he died. Help me to accept that.”

“Courage to change the things I can;”

To this, we can say…”God, help me walk in a way that honors him. Give me the courage to face this new life alone. Make me strong in my faith so that I can change the things in my life that no long serve me.”

“And the Wisdom to know the difference.”

To this, we can say…”God, make me wise in my decision making. Give me discernment in my dealings with people. Bring me the wisdom of knowing when to hang on to things and when to let go.”

It honestly never occurred to me to use the Serenity Prayer on anything out of the context of alcohol…maybe drugs. But not Grief, or pain, or depression, or anxiety. This opens doors to another avenue of prayer and…I can never have too much prayer in my life. ❤️

““I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”” - John 16:33 NIV

Feed Me!

Thu, 07 Mar 2019 02:30:52 -0600

“A redbird just makes my day!”

I fixed my coffee and sat down at Grandma’s window to read my morning devotions before I commenced editing the rough draft yesterday. A red flash caught my eye and I looked out to see a cardinal at the feeder. It didn’t take long for me to realize both feeders were empty. I set my coffee aside and dragged the big seed bin from the corner of the dining room out to the front door. I used to leave this bin out on the front porch till one day I noticed the lid was getting chewed up. I used a bungee cord to tie the lid down to keep the critters out but the raccoons were about to get in out of sheer persistence.

I quickly filled the feeders and was happy to get back inside out of the 17 degree chill. It was snowing to beat the band five minutes earlier, but now the sun was out. It left little warmth, unfortunately, but my…it did look pretty on that new snow. I dragged the seed bin back into the dining room and tucked it behind my chair and sat back down. In moments, Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal swooped back in, their feathers puffed up to trap air and keep them warm. They looked pretty fat and sassy, but I knew they appreciated breakfast.

I heated up my coffee.

I found myself wishing I had done more for Grandma when she lived here all those years after Pop-Pop died. Oh, I bought her a new stove once and a refrigerator. I talked to her on the phone one day and she was remarking how hot it was and her fan stopped working. I went online and ordered a fan and she received it the next day. She thought I was some kind of miracle worker. I never could get her to understand internet shopping.

In her later years, when she spent so much time sitting in her chair in front of this very window, her Bible lay open on her lap as she studied her Sunday School Lesson. She would have loved to have had these bird feeders out on her porch then. The birds would have been so close she could almost reach out and touch them. This made me chuckle at another memory.

When grandma took pictures of the family when we gathered for visits, she stood way back so everyone fit in the frame. None of this “scooch together, guys”. Nope…she would have moved back as far as she needed to to get everyone in the picture. This is why, unless you were present on that particular occasion, you only have the vaguest idea WHO is actually IN the photo. You can’t make out any facial features. If you blew up the pictures a hundred times, you still couldn’t identify anyone simply because it was too far away to gain any kind of focus.

But SHE knew who was there. She never forgot a thing. She was sharp clear up to within a year or two before her death. She never forgot a gathering…they were just that important to her. She always wanted us to all get together at her house, at the same time. She reveled in her family. I understand that more now than I ever have. I miss my Colorado family. I enjoy my West Virginia family. Couldn’t the two states be closer?

I finished my devotion, in front of Grandma’s window and another thought came to me. I wish I would have accepted Jesus while she was still living. She would have loved that. ❤️

“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!”
Psalm 133:1 NIV

March Forth

Mon, 04 Mar 2019 02:30:33 -0600

“March forth on March 4th!”

One of the benefits of being 65 is hindsight. I look back over my life and see a mishmash of events and situations that have led me to the exact spot where I stand today. Any decision along the way could have taken me in an entirely different direction. What if I hadn’t had the two marriages that ended in divorce? I wouldn’t have these beautiful daughters that have blessed my life so tremendously. I wouldn’t have Big and Little to make my heart sing. I wouldn’t have the in-laws and extended families that come with marriages. I wouldn’t have the lessons I learned through it all.

Each decision brought the next circumstance. While the second divorce was the worst because it was the longest marriage…if we hadn’t parted company, I never would have met Mr. Virgo. He helped me to believe in myself. He taught me so much about life and unconditional love. I tell people he taught me how to live without him by showing me I am much stronger than I ever believed. And then he died.

I can’t help but look back over the past nearly six years since Mr. Virgo died and marvel at the resilience of the human heart. I was battered, crushed, totally broken when he died. And bit by bit, I picked up the pieces of my broken self and handed them to God to hold. They cut me when I tried to hang on to them. He faithfully, diligently stitched the pieces back together, making sure I resembled who I was before but knowing he couldn’t make a carbon copy.

Faith. Hebrews 11:1 says “…faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” It wasn’t just my heart God stitched back together. He instilled in me…hope. When it was 3:00am and I was clinging to the edge of the mattress hoping to just get through the night, He whispered hope. When I cried till I couldn’t breathe…He whispered hope. He breathed hope into my life every single day so that I could find the strength to march forth into the next day, and the next, and the next.

It’s been 2,182 days I’ve marched forth. I have friends who are on day 4…day 21…day 93. My heart hurts for them. I want them to understand, I know it hurts. And I know you think you will never survive this or feel joy again. I let God carry the sharp bits for a long time. I handed the pieces over and asked Him to start stitching. I let Him breathe hope into the dark places. That’s how I got through.

Here I am…happily married again. The size of my family has literally doubled. So has my joy…and my faith. ❤️

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1 KJV

Go With the Flow

Tue, 26 Feb 2019 02:30:56 -0600

“When the words don’t come, you have to go with the flow.”

I took Saturday and Sunday off from writing, other than my usual daily blog post. I didn’t get home from town till around 3:00 Saturday afternoon and I decided to give the rest of the day to my sweetheart. Sunday was church with the family and we weren’t back home till late and with the power outage, I needed to focus on keeping the generator running while Mr. FixIt was bowling.

I got up early yesterday, grabbed my coffee and headed out to my “office”…aka TOW-Wanda. I sat down and looked at my screen. I wrote about 1200 words, but I wasn’t feeling them. What was wrong? I sat and stared out the window. Two buzzards circled above the yard. Perhaps searching for carrion along the roadside. The sun was bright and totally belied the freezing temperature. The furnace blasted out warm air as I snuggled under my favorite camper blanket.

What was wrong with me? I’ve been writing prolifically for the past three weeks. Suddenly, I hit a road block. I picked up my phone and looked at the calendar. That can sometimes bring up a memory that’s lurking around the edges of my mind. Ahhhh…Monday. I had to be at the funeral home at 1:00. They were laying my coffee mate’s husband to rest. I hate funerals. I’ve been writing about Mr. Virgo’s funeral. I’ve been at the funeral home twice in a week. I pushed my iPad away and leaned back on my stack of pillows and took my mind through the process I have to go through since Mr. Virgo died.

This isn’t your pain.

Your husband didn’t die this week.

You aren’t laying him in the ground.

You don’t have to say goodbye again and again and again.

Your role here is to support your friend.

I sighed and tucked my writing tools in my big blue bag. There would be no writing this day. That’s ok. It’s important to be flexible…change course when the moment insists…to go with the flow. You can’t force something like writing or your reader will know in a heartbeat. Just because it didn’t flow in that moment, doesn’t mean the supply is gone. It just means someone else needed my heart for a while. ❤️

“And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died. We tell you this directly from the Lord: We who are still living when the Lord returns will not meet him ahead of those who have died. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the believers who have died will rise from their graves. Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever. So encourage each other with these words.”
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 NLT

“I Have a Voice”

Sat, 23 Feb 2019 02:30:00 -0600

“I Have a Voice” woodcarving by Evelyn Jimenez

I have met some of the nicest people through my blog. One is a widow named Evelyn. She became very ill after losing her husband and very nearly died herself. Evelyn is a woodcarver, which I find endlessly fascinating. I’ve tried my hand at carving but I haven’t had the right tools for the job. I really would love to try again sometime…in my SPARE time. sigh

A few weeks ago, I saw a little faceless woman she carved and titled, “I Have a Voice”. This little round woman struck my heart. I went for a very long time in my life without a voice. I felt like the faceless woman, being told I wasn’t good enough or I was stupid or I was too fat. When you hear these things over and over and over from someone who is supposed to love you, you soon come to believe them as true.

I wanted my own little faceless woman to remind me that I am no longer without a voice. I wanted to remember that time when I was without a face so that I might recognize other faceless women. Instead of making me sad when I see her dejected little hands stuffed in her pockets, I smile because she might just be hiding cupcakes in there.

And…I know. I know she has a voice in there. I know because I had a voice inside…even when it was stifled. We can always say “I wish I would have known then what I know now.” For me it’s more like “I wish I would have known then WHO I know now.” I think if I’d known then how much God loved me, I would have loved myself more. And, if I’d loved myself more, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to be treated so poorly…even as a young child. Hindsight is 20/20. The best thing I can do now is mentor young women and make sure they know they are precious and loved and deserving. ❤️

“The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, the splendor of Carmel and Sharon; they will see the glory of the Lord, the splendor of our God.”
Isaiah 35:1-2 NIV

When Grief Calls

Tue, 19 Feb 2019 02:30:21 -0600

“When grief calls, I’ve learned to listen.”

This past Sunday, our pastor spoke about “doing” the Word as well as ‘hearing’ the Word. He talked about how we become overweight Christians by coming to church and filling up on the Word without working it out. God gave the Word to us to not only fill us up, but to go out and DO it.

This got me to thinking about what I “do” with what I’m given. My answer is…this. I write to you. I sit down with you for a little chat. You are so kind as to invite me into your space to share coffee or to rock on the porch or to hold your hand for a little while. Sometimes, you let me talk about Jesus and how he has changed my life. Sometimes, you laugh at my antics when I lock myself out of TOW-Wanda or I misunderstand something Mr. FixIt says.

But, most of all, you let me hold your heart a little while. You let me share how broken mine was. You let me share hope…for healing, for a brighter tomorrow, for a time when you won’t cry quite as much. You let me share love…for a man who left too early, for a man who came so unexpectedly, for a Man who was both God AND Man. You let me share courage…to face the future without your person, to face uncertainty about finances, to just weather the storm.

When I went to the late service Sunday night, they had the Prayer Team at the front for an alter call. I watched as we continued to sing and worship, and my eyes rested on the leader of our small group. I wondered…who prays for the pray-ers? I went up to her after the service and said, “The Holy Spirit put it on my heart to pray for you tonight.” We went to the side wall and I held her hand and I thanked God for bringing this mighty Prayer Warrior into my life. I asked him to bless her and anoint her words when she helps to lead others in prayer.

The point of all this is…this. THIS. This blog is a big part of my “purpose”. We all have a purpose. Something we were put on this earth to do. Mine was to help widows and others who have lost their special ones. I did this yesterday by writing another 5,656 words for a total of 36,216 towards the completion of my book. All in the last eleven days…with three days off. I’ve never experienced this sheer volume of writing before. At this rate, I’ll be done in less than three weeks. Then, what on earth will I do with my time? Oh….camp, build things, help people heal, start on Book #2! You never know what I’ll be up to next! ❤️

“I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me.”
Psalms 57:2 ESV

“so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.”

‭‭Romans‬ ‭12:5-8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Another Peaceful Day

Sun, 17 Feb 2019 02:30:01 -0600

“Deer grazing outside my window in TOW-Wanda.”

I have now spent eight out of the last ten days in TOW-Wanda and I have to tell you…I feel like a million bucks! Usually by this time of year, I’m ready to pull my hair out with boredom. I usually become less content with each passing day, even though the daylight is becoming longer…the long, dark nights shorter. The only two things I have done differently this year is leave the tree up and spend long hours in my camper.

There is a reason girl campers like their little houses on wheels. They offer us a safe sanctuary in which to create. Some of us haul our sewing machines out to the camper in the fall and sit out there happily sewing quilts, clothes for the grandkids, linens for the home, gifts for family and friends. Some knit and crochet, weaving prayers and stories into their creations. Some cross-stitch or needlepoint, creating marvelous pictures from colorful threads.

Some gather friends to join us for tea or drinks, showing off our fancy little playhouses. Some have sleepovers with the grandchildren, bringing up the next generation to adore our little campers in the same way we have. There are as many different varieties of girl campers as there are travel trailers and we celebrate each and every one of them every time we tow.

Me? Well, as you well know…and I’ve told you repeatedly this week…I write in TOW-Wanda every chance I get. I turn on Pandora, find the Nature Sounds channel, and listen to raucous rainstorms, salient sea breezes, flighty feathered friends chirping in the forests. I’m instantly transported from the chill of wintery West Virginia into another place, another time. My little twinkle lights glow above me…the view out the windows revealing a stoic blue heron near the creek or a browsing herd of deer making their way across the lawn. Yesterday, I watched the moonrise over the hills to the east of the Ponderosa and I counted my blessings in that very moment.

I’ve written 30,560 words on my book as of last evening. Words that take me to corners of my mind I sometimes wish were never there. And to places and times that I cherish dearly. These words stir something in me…always. But they are just feelings now. They aren’t happening in this moment. That’s how I keep them from poking me now with little barbs…trolls with sharp sticks…fairies with tiny wands…giants with hammers. They aren’t happening now and God is bigger than any poking thing in our lives.

30,560….encouraging words, painful words, funny words, sad words, terrifying words, loving words. This thing is happening! ❤️

“A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit.”
Proverbs 15:4 ESV

On Loving...Unconditionally

Thu, 14 Feb 2019 02:30:27 -0600

“I am a Christian AND I love everyone… unconditionally.”

The other day, a West Virginia delegate made a series of ugly and disparaging comments about the LGBTQ community. He compared them to terrorists and the Ku Klux Klan. He was interviewed later and given an opportunity to clarify his position, and it was actually SO much worse than what was originally reported. When asked what he would do if his son or daughter came home and told him they were gay, the delegate said if it was his daughter, he would take her for a pedicure. If it was his son, he would take him hunting. And if, upon their return, they still said they were gay…he would take them out and “see if they could swim”. The interviewer was aghast and asked, “Are you saying, you would take them out and try to drown them???” He just looked at her with a sinister grin and didn’t answer.

I was sickened, on so many levels. First and foremost, that he has this kind of hatred in his heart and calls himself a Christian. Second, that he would turn away from his children, or worse…do them physical harm. And, finally…it HAD to be a West Virginian. Why did he have to come from MY state? The answer is, because there are people like him in every state.

Here of late, I have been so uplifted and fortified by my faith, I have been shouting “Hallelujah!” from the rooftops. And that’s how I feel…excited by the ways I see God move in my life. Excited about the opportunities to share my stories of his love and provenance. Then, this week…I received this wedding invitation. And I was reminded, I may be giving people the wrong idea about who I am in my faith.

Some people may equate my bold Christian joy with the kind of person who denigrates those who are unlike them, like that delegate from West Virginia. Nothing could be further from the truth. I do not discriminate against anyone. I’m not perfect, but I certainly try to emulate Jesus at every turn. He loves everyone. He does not see people from the outside. He looks at their hearts. After raising my daughters in the Jewish faith, I was appalled when Daughter #2 came home from school crying because the kids called her a “stupid f****** Jew”. I held her close and tried to explain ignorance and intolerance and bigotry. It broke my heart.

I respect all faiths, save for those who kill people in the name of their god. I respect all people, save for those who kill or maim or injure children or animals. When I raise my voice in praise for Jesus, I don’t want it to exclude my love for others who don’t believe as I do. I don’t want to walk ahead of and ignore the one who is still looking for God. I don’t want the Muslims and the Jews and the Seiks and the Hindus and even the atheists…anyone of any faith…to think I do not love them equally. I look for, and see, the God in all people. That divine spark that comes from somewhere far beyond the stars. That sign of something far greater than any of us here.

I also embrace the LGBTQ community as my fellow human beings, who house that same divine spark as me. It is not my place to judge anyone…not even that delegate from West Virginia. Everyone will be judged by their maker in the end. It’s not my job. At the same time, I’m going to tell you about this amazing Jesus who rules my life. And, I’m going to show you, as best I can by the way that I live, how a good and loving and forgiving Father has changed me. The two can, and in my humble opinion SHOULD walk hand in hand.

Because, you see…that wedding invitation we got in the mail this week? That’s from Daughter #2 and her fiancée…a very kind and loving woman who has helped my baby become a better version of herself. They are getting married in Colorado in August. They love each other completely… unconditionally. How can I not do the same with both of them? This is my child. We love who we love. It is not my place to judge. You may do what you wish, but I do pray I will always, always, always land on the side of love. Because that is the way Jesus loves me.

***If you don’t agree with me, that’s ok…I won’t judge you either. I know this is a hot topic for some, but this is my house, my rules. We speak with respect here. This is a case where we’ll take my grandma’s advise…”If we can’t say anything nice, we won’t say anything at all.” ❤️

“As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.”
Romans 14:1-4 ESV

A Marshmallow Day

Mon, 11 Feb 2019 02:30:19 -0600

“Cold, grey days are Marshmallow Days!”

I got home safe and sound yesterday just in time to leave for church. The tree that had fallen across the road the night before was cut up and moved from the roadway. The same scenario is being repeated over the entire region with the thaw and soaking rains causing the ground to soften. All it takes is a little gust of wind and trees topple easily.

We have thoroughly enjoyed church the last couple of weeks with Mr. FixIt’s daughter and family joining us. I can’t tell you how wonderful it feels to take up seven seats in a row. My heart is overflowing.

Our pastor spoke on criticism yesterday. Good criticism comes from a place of love, and even though it stings, it is meant to lift us up. We all have suffered the other kind of criticism that really isn’t “criticism” at all. It’s self-serving and mean spirited and is critical. There’s nothing about love in that. Pastor Justin’s premise was…don’t let them in. Don’t listen to that.

There is a difference between criticism and someone who is merely expressing an opinion and it might be difficult to discern that at times. The other day, someone I care about and whose opinion I value very much sent me a private message. In it, she said my writing has changed. I have become more “evangelical” than she likes on a daily basis. My very first thought was “sting”. Immediately followed by “that’s ok. I still love you.”

Since then, lots of things have gone through my mind. Am I coming on too strong and driving people away? Have I crossed the line into “Crazy Christian Lady who can’t talk about anything but Jesus?” I wanted to apologize. Then I decided…I really can’t. I write what comes to me. I write from my heart. And I am always brutally honest about my feelings and what I share.

Some people lose touch with God when they lose their special person. They can’t understand how a loving God could make someone suffer with cancer. Or they prayed for healing and it didn’t come. Or, any number of other reasons. For me…my faith has deepened tremendously since Mr. Virgo died. And especially since I started dating Mr. FixIt. I have never had a relationship that was so “equally yoked”. I’ve never had a partner who came to church with me every Sunday, who holds my hand with his right hand and praises with his left. I’ve never shared late night conversations about God. That alone is enough for me to want to shout from the rooftops.

This is a dark time of year. I talk about what is on my heart. I try not to make every day “Preaching Sunday” but there are only so many ways I can tell you I knitted all afternoon and still make it interesting. And I am infinitely fascinated by the way God works in my life.

I am always open to loving criticism. I told my dear friend how much I appreciated her candor. I know my writing has changed. I’VE changed. I’ve grown in many, many ways in the last six years. And I truly hope you’ll hang around with me and keep reading. I’m still going to write what is on my heart, and if it’s Jesus or something he is teaching me, you can rest assured…I’m going to write about it. I’ll write about other stuff too, just to mix it up. But, I’m Jesus’ girl first and foremost…there’s no way I’m going to hide that. ❤️

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭2:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Saved Again

Sun, 10 Feb 2019 02:30:54 -0600

“Knowing who saves me over and over brings me peace beyond understanding.”

I finished my laundry and packed up the car. I had a last minute conversation with a wonderful woman I met recently. Then I headed home from the farm right about dusk. This photo looks like it was pretty light out, but it was dark, dark, dark when I headed into the home stretch on the two-lane country road. It was so dark, you were right on top of deer before you saw them, even with the brights on. Something ahead of me caught my eye. Not three seconds ahead of me, a big tree fell and crossed both lanes. Fortunately, I was going slow and didn’t need to slam on my brakes. I am well aware I missed this falling on me by the skin of my teeth.

I happened to be on the phone with Mr. FixIt when I saw the tree fall. There was no one else on the road. He reminded me to put on my emergency flashers. I sat there for a few minutes as we discussed my course of action. I could wait there for someone to come along and either pull the tree off the road or cut it up and haul it off. Or, I could turn around and go back where I came from. There were two routes available to me. One took me through a long area with no cell service. The other took me across a road that had a number of mudslides this week. Ultimately it would take me clear into town and then I’d have to take the interstate south and back out another two-lane. A long, long drive in the dark and still there were areas with no cell service. I decided the shortest route would be best and I headed back toward the farm, but…when I got there, I had already dodged umpteen deer and for the first time in a long, long time, I was worried about driving in the dark, alone.

When I got to the farm, I called Mr. FixIt and told him I planned to stay another night and I would be home in plenty of time to go to church. He agreed that was a good plan. That’s when I confessed I was actually worried about driving out here in the dark and I couldn’t understand why. I mean…nothing scares me. Three years ago, I wouldn’t have given this a second thought and would have looked at it as an adventure. But now? Now is different. Now it’s not just me. Now I’m not so foggy, not so careless with my existence. Now there are not only my children and friends who love me. Now there is a man and a bonus family that look to me with love and acceptance. It’s not that my life had no value, but even three years ago, the depth of my grief made it difficult to appreciate the time I had ahead of me…the family I already had that were still here and needed me. I have been awakened in the last two years. Awakened and earnestly appreciative of every precious moment I am given on this side of the grass.

Moments after my call to Mr. FixIt, a friend sent me a message that Rt. 5, the alternate route I was preparing to travel, was now closed with a large downed tree. It would be quite some time before that road was cleared. Heavy equipment was being brought in to move the tree off the phone lines. So, it seems my guardian angel was quite busy last evening keeping me from harm. I thanked God all the way to the farm for always caring for me and for the protection he afforded me last night.

And…over the last three days, I have written six chapters and 10,831 words on my book. I’ve written this book three times, at least. And every time before, it was a struggle. I’d read it and re-read it till I was sick of it and it never really spoke to me. It always seemed to me to come out flat…like I just wasn’t reaching the sweet spot where the story flowed. I’d put it away for months at a time, pick it up, and find the same problems. It wasn’t working. I have finally figured out why.

I was approached nearly three years ago by a literary agent who was interested in my writing. We signed a contract for a book. I remember when we were getting acquainted, I told her my writing was faith-based and she suggested perhaps I should use a Christian publisher. She didn’t have those connections. I thought about it for a few moments and said no, it might be good if the book was out in the general populous because it could reach many who perhaps struggle with faith. We moved forward with the contract. In the following three years, two things became apparent to me. One, my social media presence hasn’t grown as fast as I had hoped and two, my faith has deepened and now I know I want a Christian publisher. I think God waited for me to decide to include him in the book before he made it clear which direction to go. And before he opened the floodgates of words.

I have struggled for over a year with the decision to part ways from my agent. That dark voice kept whispering, “A bird in the hand, you know.” I finally stopped listening to that voice and paid attention to my gut…my inner God-voice…and send her an e-mail last week expressing my desire to change directions and head for a Christian publisher. She totally understood and felt that was the direction I should go and wished me well. So, now I have no agent, but I have the freedom of knowing I did the right thing and the trust that God will get this book out of me and onto paper.

This time, writing is different. The words are literally falling out of me. I’m typing as fast as I can. Nearly 11,000 words in three days is phenomenal! The biggest difference I notice is, this time it’s not slaying me to write it. I feel the healing of the past three years and I know this is the right time. I’m really excited about that! ❤️

“‘Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.’”
Jeremiah 33:3 NIV

The Farm and Me

Sat, 09 Feb 2019 02:30:22 -0600

“The Farm is my ultimate happy place!”

If the weather hadn’t turned colder yesterday, I would have spent the night out in TOW-Wanda last night. But, with a low of 17 degrees forecast, I opted for the next best thing and headed to the farm! I made sure Mr. FixIt had everything he needed, filled him with more cold meds, propped him up in his recliner with a cover and a heating pad and made my escape. He still has some potato soup to warm up and I promised I’d be back sometime today. I could sit and watch him suffer and watch TV, or I could write. With his full support, I chose writing.

And write I did! As of the time I am typing this post, I’ve written 7141 words since Thursday morning at 11:00. That’s a lot of words! The goal when you write is just to get the rough draft down. Write it all out…worry about editing later. That is the most difficult part for me. I want it perfect the first time so I don’t have to go back over it again. I don’t know anyone that works for.

I stopped at my cousin’s barn on the way out here yesterday to leave 80 cans of cat food and a 40 pound bag of dry cat food. Yes, I was prepared for the winter and had just purchased all that a few days before the cats were moved to their new home in the big barn. So, they were gifted cat food aplenty! I was thrilled to learn the kitties are hanging out there and haven’t wandered off. I saw Kitty Boy, the young short hair. My cousin said they were both there last night when he fed them. There are six roosters down at the barn and they all get along fine. This makes me happy!

The farm is my time machine. Every time I get to stay here, I am swept back to my childhood. I get to feel all those really great feelings again. This farm and TOW-Wanda are my happy places. Right now, as I write this, I am propped up in Grandma’s bed. I cracked the window open when I first got here so I can hear the water running in the creek. We’ve had a lot of rain this week so the runoff is pretty high.

I’ve been really surprised we haven’t lost more trees out here. There are mudslides all around these parts this time of year. The ground freezes hard and when it thaws, it’s aerated. Then the heavy rains come and the ground gets so saturated, all it takes is a good windstorm and trees get uprooted. Mud and rocks slip down, sometimes covering the road…sometimes taking the road along with it.

As Mr. FixIt came home from bowling Thursday night, he called me to say there was a huge tree lying across the road at the top of a hill less that two miles from the house. He managed to turn around and, knowing every backroad within fifty miles of here, made a quick shortcut that would bring him back out on the two lane just past the tree. We were asking on the phone as he drove when he said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I asked what was wrong and he said he drove right into standing water on the road. He wasn’t driving too fast…it was just there before he knew it. It’s easy to see how people can get caught up and swept away in high water when you have little to no warning it’s ahead. Thank goodness, he got right through and was home in no time.

I stopped at the Piggly Wiggly on the way to the farm and picked up a few things. I had a small steak and baked potato for dinner. Yummmm! I’ll spend today writing and doing laundry before I head home. I hope you all are planning a wonderful weekend! ❤️

“My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king; my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.”
Psalm 45:1 NIV

I Need That Joy...

Wed, 06 Feb 2019 02:30:12 -0600

“I Need That Joy…down in my heart!”

I love, love, love the way God works in my life! It’s like an elaborately woven tapestry with bright colors here and dark colors there…never seeing what’s developing in the picture till you get some perspective. That’s when you start to see how this thread that was pulled over here is causing that thread to move over there. And then you see…you really SEE. And you know beyond a shadow of a doubt…it is GOD!

Case in point. We were standing in the lobby Sunday waiting for the doors to open and head into church. I was talking with my step-daughter about my blog and how my spiritual walk began to blossom within it. I explained how the enemy really started attacking me when I opened up my heart and started praising God in my writing and adding scripture to my posts. I attended my very first Revival and was baptized in the Spirit which took things to a whole new level. Pastor Matt told us one night to take back our homes and our properties and to banish the enemy from the premises. The next morning, I got Grandma’s old bible from the buffet and walked around the perimeter of the yard, hands outstretched, shouting praises without shame. I informed the enemy he had no dominion over me or my house and I showed him the boundary. It’s one of my favorite stories and it was the first time I had shared it with my bonus family.

Soon, we went into the sanctuary and were seated. Pastor Justin gave a wonderful sermon about patience. At one point, he started getting animated and talked about banishing the enemy from our homes and properties. I sat back and smiled and thought, “Here it comes!” He went on to say, “Take your bibles and walk around the perimeter of your property and send the devil packing!” My step-daughter and I whipped around and looked at each other, mouths gaped open, and laughed out loud. I love it when that happens. And when you are attuned, it happens a lot. You just have to pay attention. I was so glad God showed them he was there!

I told you earlier this year new things were coming. I still can’t talk about the specifics yet, but I knew there were a couple of associations I had to sever before I could move forward into the new project. I’ve waffled, I have to admit. Because a “bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”, as my grandma used to say. I prayed about it and told God I put all my trust in him and I know he will open the new doors where he wants me to go. I hit “send” on the last e-mail and immediately, Spirit told me to turn on the Christian radio station I was listening to earlier in the day. I did, and the worship song “Joy” by King & Country came on. Now, I’ve never heard that song, but listen carefully to the lyrics and you will hear God saying, “Yes! Things were critical and you made a choice. Now…feel the JOY!”

Wow…these kinds of things really pump me up! My body was humming like I was plugged into an outlet. And, in all actuality, I was. I was getting recharged by the Holy Spirit. I couldn’t help but feel that “joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart!” More to come down the road as the journey continues. ❤️

youtu.be/lA7n7TwPD…

“Clap your hands, all peoples! Shout to God with loud songs of joy!”
Psalms 47:1 ESV

Happy Mind, Happy Life

Tue, 05 Feb 2019 02:30:06 -0600

“Making the little things count, because the little things add up to be the BIG thing!”

Yesterday was a really great day! First of all…the sun was shining and we had a high of 68 degrees here in West Virginia. A difference of over seventy degrees in three days…and Mr. FixIt has a sore throat. sigh I’m hitting him with Zinc and Vitamin C. And prayers!

I met a friend for coffee yesterday at the new Starbucks. Sue is a budding artist and she gifted me a watercolor of a little bluebird. She knows how much I love them. For Christmas, I gave her a pair of socks that I knitted and she wanted to give me something special. I’ve had it sitting near me all day and it’s so sweet.

The other day, when I learned Mr. FixIt’s family was going to join us at church, I made us each a notebook. It has three sections…a planner, a place for prayers and praises, and a section for sermon notes. I’ve always said I was going to take notes during the service and this was the perfect time to prepare.

Happy Mind, Happy Life…

My bonus granddaughter and I were talking about that just the other day. We were talking about the images we look at. You can never “unsee” something. And the things we choose to put in front of us for visual consumption changes us. It changes our brains. It changes how we see the world and how we see ourselves. We have to be ever watchful with what we choose to feed our minds because “we are what we eat.”

When I came in from sitting in the sun yesterday afternoon, I asked Alexa to play Contemporary Christian music. As I picked up my knitting, I let the uplifting music wash over me and fill me with the Joy of the Lord. My heart rose with the swell of the music…my skin still warm from the sun…my spirit still stirred from Sunday’s service. It’s good that we carry that image with us into the week. The image of God and the Word and Love and Fellowship and Goodness and Family. These are the things I choose as my Daily Bread. These are the things that I will fill myself with. ❤️

“Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation—”
1 Peter 2:2 ESV

The Not-So-Super Bowl

Mon, 04 Feb 2019 02:30:07 -0600

“Super Bowl Party food!”

Was it just me or was that not the most boring Super Bowl game ever? I mean…the commercials were even boring. We did have a wonderful day, though. Mr. FixIt’s daughter and her family came to church with us (second Sunday in a row!) and they really enjoyed the service. Everyone came out to our house and the weather was SO great! Clear, sunny, and sixty-four degrees. I made a big pot of chili, hot wings, guacamole and white cheese queso. Everyone played outside. We had the corn hole boards set up and the baby had her trike and some other toys. When the evening was over, I was fried, so I’ll just keep this brief. It was so wonderful to have the family with us at church and for an afternoon of fun. Boring game or not! It’s going to be 64 again today so I am making hay while the sun shines. Happy Monday! ❤️

“And Jesus said to him, "'If you can'! All things are possible for one who believes."”
Mark 9:23 ESV

The Giant of Rejection

Fri, 01 Feb 2019 02:30:51 -0600

“The Giant of Rejection…something I have battled my entire life.”

Last night was our third session in the study series of Goliath Must Fall by Louie Giglio. This has been the most amazing program our Bible study group has done to this point. I’ve been looking forward to this particular session because rejection and it’s cousin, perfectionism, were my constant companions from a very, very young age.

Everyone wants to be accepted. We enjoy the approval of others. If you say, “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me!” you can just about guarantee that, at least on some level, you very much DO care. This can stem from the smallest slight…something said casually, in jest, that really hit you and stung. Or it can be very real…your father abandoned the family, you were given up for adoption, you lost a job you loved…even the death of someone near and dear to your heart. The sting of rejection can haunt you all the days of your life.

Louie Giglio postulates that you have two schools of thought that separate your thinking on the subject of rejection.

“So that.” and “Because.”

You try to act or be a certain way so that people will love/accept/approve of you.

You are who you are because God is who HE is.

He chose you. He CHOSE you. He knew you before you were knitted in the womb of your mother. He knows the number of hairs on your head. You don’t need the approval of others BECAUSE you already have the approval of God. There is nothing you can do to make Him love you any more or any less. Isn’t that amazing???

I’ve learned this along the way. I’ve learned to pinpoint where and how my particular train went off the rails. And I know with all logic that what Louie is telling us is true. But practicing it, in all ways? That’s a lifelong project when you have been rejected in a very painful way…especially at a very young age like I was. A sadistic teacher, childhood sexual abuse, and an alcoholic father were the perfect storm that set me on a path to find the love I never felt deserving of. I made great strides in therapy then met Mr. Virgo. That was my first experience of unconditional love. When I lost him, I was crushed…not only by his death, but by the loss of that unconditional love I had waited my whole life for. I didn’t think I could find that again…then Mr. FixIt came along.

Still, when I find myself wanting approval, I remind myself. God chose me. He chose ME. The Creator of the Universe knows my name and how many hairs are on my head and still…He chose me. We all love being loved and approved of and accepted. But with the knowledge that God chose us and loves us immeasurably, we can do so in a healthy way. ❤️

““Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.””
Jeremiah 1:5 NIV

Moving Day for the Felines

Tue, 29 Jan 2019 02:30:46 -0600

“Boy Cat…a beautiful, long haired farm cat…moved to my cousin’s barn yesterday.”

I have been in a bit of a dilemma the last couple of months. We have had an inordinate amount of rain in West Virginia this year. We have a leaky stairwell with a very slow drain at the Ponderosa. So, when it rains…especially those long, soaking rains that last multiple days…the drain easily becomes overwhelmed and the basement floods. We have two sump pumps, but someone has to remain here to make sure they are operating correctly to keep the water level down. This is something we wanted to fix last summer, but Mr. FixIt really couldn’t use a jackhammer that soon after the reconstruction surgery he had on his hand last winter. It has to wait till this coming summer and that means we are tied here.

Boy Cat and Kitty Boy, the two farm cats couldn’t come live at the Ponderosa. We live on a very busy highway and they know nothing about busy roads. I was too afraid they would be hit and killed here. I left them at the farm and traded off with my cousin and his wife, taking turns feeding them. The plan was to stay at the farm for long stretches which would give my cousin a break from feeding, but the weather hasn’t been cooperating and being newlyweds…we like to be together. As the weather has deteriorated into icy winter storms, my trips have become fewer and farther between.

Last summer, Charlotte offered to take the cats to her farm, but then she got a new rabbit and we were afraid the kitties would hurt her bunny. When another bunny arrived, it was a definite now, as nature would have it, the bunnies died…one after the other. First, to a predator. The second to old age. The other day, Charlotte called and renewed her offer to take Boy Cat and Kitty Boy down the road to be the resident barn cats. I was so grateful because the barn has lots of hay to burrow down in, lots of mice to catch, and someone to love on them every day. AND…I can go visit anytime I want!

I’ve grown to love these two boys, and this just seemed like the most loving and responsible thing to do. They have been neutered so they aren’t going to produce a bunch of new feral kitties. Charlotte really has a way with them. Boy Cat will rub on my legs but has never let me pick him up. Charlotte can pick him up and love on him whenever she is there. Kitty Boy is still too skittish, but I’ll bet she will have him in her lap one of these days. I just bought a huge bag of cat food and 80 cans of soft food so I’ll deliver that the next time I’m over there. I will also give them the feral cat boxes, the electric heated pads for inside, the cat carriers, as well as the heated water dish. These barn kitties are royals…I’m so happy they have someone to love on them! ❤️

“The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.”
Proverbs 12:10 NIV

Some Updates on the Kids!

Mon, 28 Jan 2019 02:30:05 -0600

“Baby Gwendolyn sitting up with her braces on her legs. Making progress!”

Remember sweet baby Gwendolyn who we have been praying for since last summer? Look at our big girl…sitting up in her high chair with her braces on her little legs. She still is having issues with her hands but she is slowly learning to grasp things. Her lower jaw is receded and she cannot eat yet so she has a stomach tube tube for feeding. But she is bright as a new copper penny and as sweet as a summer rain! What a blessing she is to all who love her!

“Little Khloe is battling leukemia and just lost her hair. She celebrated by braving bare in a fashion show! She’s a rock star!”

Then, there’s little Khloe. Her great grandma went to high school with us. Khloe found out she had leukemia last summer. Last weekend, her family threw an “It’s Just Hair” party where she and many members of her family shaved their heads in support. Khloe lost almost all of her hair and she was tired of it just coming out in chunks so she just wanted it all off. She has a bunch of really cute wigs, but yesterday she was in a fashion show for Justice girls wear and boldly bare with a cute glittery unicorn headband. This brave little girl rocks!!!

Here are two precious little girls, going through some pretty big struggles. And their brave families backing them up. It makes any little problem I may think I have pale in comparison. They are living, breathing examples of prayers being answered. I love when Jesus shows us His works.

I’ve been praying for my bonus family and last night, the grands with their significant others went to church with me! What a joy that was! And, they want to come next week with my husband and me. So, it was a really, really wonderful weekend. I hope you have a blessed Monday, y’all!

Have a wonderful Monday, everyone! ❤️

“Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.”
3 John 1:2 NIV

Building up my Stash

Sun, 27 Jan 2019 02:30:49 -0600

“Eighteen hand-knit cotton dishclothes are perfect for impromptu gifts.”

Yesterday was a decompression day. Taking care of and loving on lots of people this week left me needing a day that was all about me, for the most part. I’m almost finished with the cotton yarn I bought to knit dishcloths. There’s probably enough to make a couple more. I have eighteen in my stash. I like having these around for impromptu gift giving. I also get a bar of lavender soap every time my doTerra order comes around and I don’t need vitamins. I put these things all away to have ready for birthdays and hostess gifts.

I have this whole bonus family through marrying Mr. FixIt and I am thrilled to say the grandkids are going to church with me today! Mr. FixIt and I will go at noon then when he bowls this evening, I’ll take the grandkids with me and treat them out to dinner after church. I wanted to spend some quality time alone with them. Bonding time is important in step-families…even when the kids are all grown up. I’m so excited…I can hardly wait!

I told you I would let you know if I slept well again when I practiced handing everything over to God before bed. Well, I did and it was amazing how fast I fell asleep…and stayed asleep all night. I think I’m onto something here!

We haven’t been to church for two weeks because of bad weather. I can hardly wait to get there today…twice! Have a blessed Sunday, dear ones. I’ll see you this evening for Sunday Night Prayer Circle. ❤️

“Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.”
Proverbs 17:6 NIV

Happy Feet

Sat, 26 Jan 2019 02:30:46 -0600

“I love my new Happy Camper Slippers!”

My new slippers arrived yesterday! Yes…I had to have them. They are so cute and comfy. And they make me smile!

I’ve had an interesting week ministering to my family, loving my kids through life issues, being a mentor to the grandchildren. Missing the Colorado family. Sharing the Gospel. And the love. It’s been a challenge AND it’s been incredibly rewarding. And, I’m totally whupped tonight as I write this.

I have had a lot on my mind this week and I haven’t slept well. So, Thursday night I did like they suggested in Goliath Will Fall. When I laid down in bed, I told God I had worked on this stuff long enough. I said, “Here, I’m giving this to you to work on tonight. I’m going to sleep.” And I did. I mean…it really worked! I slept ten hours straight. I haven’t done that in ages but I’m going to try it again. I’ll let you know how it works.

I love how my posts have been stirring people to write to me with their own stories of faith and family. I love how someone writes of a painful situation they are going through and soon, there are others who have chimed in to support them. It warms my heart that God trusts me with this ministry…to my family, to my friends, to my readers. I am grateful for all of you. And for a God that trusts someone like me with such a wonderful gift. ❤️

“But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.”
Acts 20:24 ESV

Thoughts on Conflict & Fear

Fri, 25 Jan 2019 02:30:09 -0600

“Look for the gold in people. There’s enough dirt in the world.”

The other day, we touched on conflicts and how to resolve them peacefully. We all have seen our fair share of conflict in our lives and had dealt with it in the best way we knew how with the knowledge we had at the time. Sometimes it’s worked out ok…sometimes not. The good thing is, we can always continue to learn and grow and get better at the sticking points in life.

When you are dealing with marriage, here is the single most important thing I have learned. When you find yourself frustrated with your spouse…and you WILL at some point…mind your tongue when you are talking about him with others. If all you do is spout negative things, it won’t be long till that is all you will ever see in him/her. It doesn’t take long to go from speaking these things to outsiders to berating your spouse with all the things they do that tick you off. I can guarantee you…if you feed that beast, it’s all you’ll get back.

I learned with Mr. Virgo…once I started to notice something he did that bugged me, that was a sign I wasn’t praying for him enough. Same for Mr. FixIt. We all need grace. It’s a wonderful habit to practice with your spouse or other family members.

I had Bible study last night. We talked a little bit after last week’s study about the book “Goliath Must Fall” by Louie Giglio. Last night’s “giant” was FEAR. The first question we were asked was…”How well do you sleep?” Wow. Sometimes really well. Those are the times when things are going well and I really don’t have much to worry about. Other times, I lie awake all night long, staring at the ceiling, working something over and over, turning it this way and that, puzzling over how to…what? Fix it. Manipulate it. Control it. I rehearse conversations ahead of time with not only my dialogue, but that of the other’s as well. As if I have some sort of control over how another person thinks, acts, or responds.

Sometimes I lie there and worry about an event that isn’t going to happen for eight months. “Will I have the extra weight off before the wedding? What will I wear? What happens if it’s really hot. I don’t do well in heat.” All I have accomplished in that scenario is set myself up for failure and robbed myself of sleep and God’s joy.

Last night’s lesson was this…when you lay down to sleep and the things to worry about start lining up…just hand them over to God and go to sleep. He loves you no matter what. He’s bigger than all of the giants. Trust him to work on your problems while you’re asleep. Then you awaken refreshed and can live in God’s Glory.

There is a fine line between anger and fear. Giving your conflicts to God, praying for others, letting go of your fears…all elements that can help lead to a peaceful night’s sleep. ❤️

“Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”
Ephesians 4:31-32 ESV

The Poet - From Darkness into Light

Sun, 20 Jan 2019 02:30:58 -0600

“Think before you speak. Read before you think.”

"maybe death isn’t darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us — as soft as feathers"
~ Mary Oliver

How I let a treasure like Mary Oliver slip through my fingers, I’ll never know. It’s an excellent example of realizing how very much I do not know. The internet has been filled with loving tributes to this gentle woman with the expansive heart…her pen trimming away the excesses of flowery verse and going straight for the pit of your stomach. Her words are like magic…painting pictures of love and kindness and tenderness. Nature was her cathedral. Poetry was her torch.

Oliver loved Whitman and Emerson, Shelley and Keats. Growing up in a dysfunctional home in Ohio, she ultimately settled in the wilds of New England, wandering through her woods and harbor…taking notes and penning phrases along the way. She has been compared to Emily Dickinson. Her poetry is filled with both darkness and joyous light. Her life partner, Molly Malone Cook, was her constant companion for over forty years, as well as her literary agent. After Molly’s death in 2005, Oliver continued on in Provincetown, Massachusetts until finally relocating to Florida. She rarely gave interviews because she valued her personal privacy and wished for her work to speak for itself. Mary Jane Oliver passed away on January 17, 2019 of lymphoma. And the world lost a valuable treasure.

In researching Oliver’s work, I became introspective. How often do we think, once we have arrived at “a certain age”, that we somehow have attained a level of knowledge that we can, at the very least, term “well rounded”? I know a little bit about a lot of stuff, but there is SO much out there I haven’t a clue about. We cannot possibly learn everything, but how sad that I didn’t know Mary Oliver and her brilliant poetry during times in my life it might have soothed my heart. How joyful that I still have the opportunities to continue learning and growing.

We are but a sum of our life’s experiences, are we not? The other night, I had a troubling dream. A recurring dream about a hopeless situation which will never be resolved nor totally understood. Not in this lifetime anyway. And whenever I have this dream, I am left feeling an ache in my heart…bereft over a loss I had little control over. It leaves me out of sorts for days and colors my every interaction, thus leaving the stains of old hurts smeared onto others who have no knowledge of my pain. It’s unfair and senseless. As I drove to town yesterday, I had a conversation with God. I asked Him to please step in and be an intermediary…to block this dream, and even the thoughts of the events that precipitate it. To take away the memories that come back and haunt me year after year. As I pleaded with God, I literally felt the old, familiar ache physically leave my heart. A weight was lifted and the cloud in my mind dissipated. I immediately thanked Him. Then…I let it go.

Poetry. Prose. Words. Prayers. God. They have such power to release you from the bondage of the past…if you let them. If you feel them and taste them and speak them. They can breathe life back into the sore places of your soul. ❤️

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.”
1 Corinthians 13:1-3 ESV

Finding the Right Tools

Fri, 18 Jan 2019 02:30:23 -0600

“Having the right tool leads to success.”

Good communication skills have not always been my strongest suit. For years, I was afraid to speak up for fear of judgement and rocking the boat. That changed with Mr. Virgo and I’ve honed the skill with Mr. FixIt. Yesterday I told you he was being a little stingy with his power tools. So, that night, instead of stewing over it, I just pointed out that I like power tools, too. He smiled and said he just wasn’t used to women who know how to do things like that. I understand that. Not all women can, or even want to, operate power tools.

Yesterday, we needed to build another brace at the other end of the bathroom floor. That is where you attach two short pieces of 2x4 to a long piece in an “H” fashion and fasten it between the floor joists to support the new floor above. This end of the floor is located directly over the washer and dryer. It’s an awkward position to stand on a ladder and it was impossible for Mr. FixIt to get up in there, so I climbed up on the washer and dryer and fastened the new boards in with three inch wood screws.

I don’t know if you have ever held a drill at an awkward angle, over your head, and tried to hold enough pressure to keep the bit from slipping in the head of the screw, but I assure you it’s not easy. The first two screws stripped immediately. So I did what I always do…I talked to Jesus. I asked him to help me get this job done and the screws went in easily as I kept saying “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” When it got really difficult, Mr. FixIt just reached up and held the end of the drill and it worked like butter.

When you face the tough things in life, you need the right tools for the job. We had the right wood screws. We had the right drill and bit and a fully charged battery. We had proper lighting and ladders. We had mutual support and trust. And we had Jesus standing in between us. We can call on Him to help us with the most mundane of tasks. My shoulders relaxed and I put all my focus and force on the task at hand and was successful. The right tools for the job…it’s what creates success. ❤️

“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
Hebrews 4:16 ESV

Building a Better Bath

Thu, 17 Jan 2019 02:30:31 -0600

“Master Bath seems to be a bit of a misnomer when it comes to this tiny closet of a room.”

For those of you who have been following me for some time, you may remember when I helped a friend redo her bathroom. In that case, the man who she had arranged to do the work got as far as the demo and skipped out because it was “too cold outside to come over”. She called me desperate and asked if I could help. I have considerable experience after having remodeled my mom’s house before I sold it, so I jumped at the chance. I love doing fix-it kinda stuff.

That bathroom turned out really great, if I do say so myself. Between the two of us, we had that thing knocked out in less than a month and it was beautiful when it was done. When I moved into Mr. FixIt’s house, the bathroom off the master bedroom was gutted. It has taken us a bit of time to get to the point of tackling this particular job because outdoor stuff kept taking precedence. And, now I know how Mr. FixIt felt the first time we went camping together. I wouldn’t let him do anything with the hooking up and unhooking of the camper. I did the driving. He just came along for the ride. Such is my participation in this home improvement project.

My job appears to be that of “hold this here.” Now, don’t get me wrong…I love a man that is handy with power tools. AND I love to work with power tools, too. Now I know what he felt like when I told him to just sit over there and look pretty. It’s ok. I don’t really mind. I love helping him in any way I can. I try really hard not to tell him what to do when he doesn’t do something the way I would do it. I’ve learned to excuse myself when I’m getting too bossy and go work on something else till he needs me again. I’m learning how to do new things like building in support structures between floor joists where the shower is going. Once you have learned to be independent and do things for yourself, especially when you love building things, it’s not easy to back off and let someone else have the reins. Learning to be a couple again…give and take…relinquishing control…almost feels like new skills.

We are a good team, Mr. FixIt and me. Thank goodness he has infinite patience! ❤️

“May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Romans 15:5-6 ESV

The Difference Between “With” and “Without”

Tue, 15 Jan 2019 02:30:47 -0600

“The Difference Between With and Without”

I rarely write a post about a specific scripture. I usually write something then find the scripture that best illustrates my thinking. It makes me search more. It makes me read more and study the Word more. It keeps me engaged. This post is different. I was chatting with Danielle the night I was asking her questions about her addiction and overdose. When I told her how happy I was she was getting her life together at 24, I shared my story and told her I felt robbed of nearly a decade of my life. She shared a scripture with me and I made note of it. I have meditated on it for over a week and now I’m ready to share it.

I have always believed in God so therefore, I have never lived a day without Him. I will have to say though…Jesus didn’t live in MY house until 2004. By that time, I had already gone through two broken marriages. I had two beautiful daughters. And one broken mind.

I didn’t realize how desolate my life had become. I just knew I was shriveling up and dying on the vine. I became broken in my second marriage and, for whatever reason, we couldn’t seem to end it. We became more and more distant and I self-medicated in order to cope. Unfortunately, I was seeing a psychiatrist who did more harm than good and I couldn’t seem to end that either.

I knew what I needed. I needed Jesus. But I was married to a Jewish doctor. I took my little girl to Hebrew School every week. I organized all the Jewish celebrations in our small town. I had formally converted to Judaism. I had actually stood before a Beth Din…the Jewish tribunal court…and renounced Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior.

“Jesus would NEVER want me now.” I thought to myself.

Toward the end of that marriage, I laid in bed every night and talked to God. I told him, if anything happened to my husband, I would become a Christian. I consoled myself with thoughts of singing in church…of praying…of reading my Bible. But I just couldn’t do that AND be married to the Jewish doctor. He would leave me.

Little did I know he’d been thinking of leaving for at least five years before he told me. I was hurt. But I was also angry. If we could have both been brave and honest, we could have avoided the pain of the last five to seven years and gotten on with our lives. It would have had far less of an impact on my children…especially Daughter #2 who was just nine years old when I overdosed and we subsequently ended our marriage.

I felt robbed. Robbed of time. Robbed of happiness. Robbed of my marriage. And robbed of the Joy of having Jesus in my life…although I couldn’t articulate it as such at the time. When Danielle quoted Joel 2:25, my jaw dropped. It spoke of Redemption. It spoke of Replenishment. It spoke of Fulfillment. And the thing that spoke most to my heart was…the end of shame.

I was raised by a father who used shame as his preferred tool of control. Blame and shame were my lifelong companions, and renouncing Jesus had become the number one shame of my life. Before I even realized I needed Him, I was yearning for His unconditional love. Thankfully, I was saved and forgiven and made new. I didn’t have to wait for anything…I just needed to get out of my own way.

I loved the fact that as I ministered to Danielle, she ministered to me and told me God would repay me for the years the locusts ate. And He has…oh, my goodness. He has repayed me many, many times over. Far more than I ever deserved. As the calendar turned to another year, I could feel a shift in my relationship with God. No longer a “baby Christian”, I feel I have moved from an observer AT church to BEING the church. It’s a change in perspective and feels like a new level of maturity. It’s hard to describe, but I feel it and I believe it to be real. This is one of the wonders of walking with Christ. I’ve left the arid, desolate landscape of “without” and I’m walking in the lush, verdant landscape of “with”. ❤️

“I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you. "You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you. And my people shall never again be put to shame. You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I am the Lord your God and there is none else. And my people shall never again be put to shame.”
Joel 2:25-27 ESV

The Dark Corners

Sat, 12 Jan 2019 02:30:03 -0600

“We are but a wisp of smoke when we are gone…shadowy memories that cling to us like curls of smoke.”

I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday. Nothing major…just a follow up on something we’re keeping an eye on. Aside from the boring green floral upholstery on the chairs, there were some unmemorable pieces of what would pass for art. You can go in any medical office in America and see the same room. Rather than pick up germy, outdated magazines, I pulled my knitting out of my bag to get a few rows in before my name was called.

As I stitched, my mind was drawn to the television hanging in the corner of the room in front of me. Our local hospital is affiliated with WVU Medical Center and the TV plays an endless loop of PR stories…physicians and patient profiles that demonstrate the different specialties and what they can achieve.

As I knit two, perl two, something caught my attention. A woman was on the screen talking about her husband. He had arrived home early from work and decided to take the dog and go for a run. She continued to shop on the computer when he returned in moments saying he didn’t feel well. Her nurse mode kicked in and she realized he didn’t look well. She checked his pulse and to her horror, realized he was having a heart attack. She got him down on the floor and implored him to stay awake. He said he was trying and with that, lost consciousness. She began CPR while trying to dial 911, shouting to the phone on the floor to send an ambulance right away.

It was my story all over again.

I found myself gripping the knitting needles, willing the man to breathe, to wake up, to not leave his wife alone to clean up the mess of death…to stay a little longer so she wouldn’t feel what I felt. While I was relieved to hear he made it, there was that familiar pang of “Why me? My MY man?”

Tears stung my eyes…to my surprise.

I don’t let myself go there very often anymore. It’s like a photo album and I know what the pictures inside look like, but I don’t necessarily need to get it down and view it very often. It’s just easier on me if I don’t go there.

And, besides…I’m married again. Aren’t I not supposed to grieve another when I have this wonderful man in my life now? I don’t grieve like I once did. That is a GOOD thing. That is the way it should be. But just know this: There will be times, there will be moments, there will be events that will trigger you and, no matter how happy you are and your life is vastly improved, you’ll still “go there”. This is normal and I want you to know that. I want you to be gentle with yourself. Don’t feel guilty. Feel your feels cause they’re as real as real can be. You never stop loving…you start loving more. And gradually, you begin hurting a little less, and a little less, and a little less till you put the photo album up on the shelf. ❤️

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants.”
Psalm 116:15 NIV

Johnny & Jaxx...A Story of Devotion

Thu, 10 Jan 2019 02:30:03 -0600

“Rosie (L), Jaxx (C), and Johnny Boy (R) celebrate Johnny’s 4th Gotcha Day!”

We talk a lot here about death and dying, loss and grief. We talk about losing our parents…aunts…uncles…cousins, our siblings, our children, our friends, and our spouses. We don’t talk a whole lot here about when we lose our beloved fur-babies…those wonderful fur-covered angels that grace us with their presence for a few short years, only to be yanked away far, far too soon.

Losing our beloved pets affects most of us the same way as losing a human member of the family. Our hearts break. We grieve. We are lost. We get the same brain fog. The same yearning. If you are an animal lover and have ever been fortunate enough to share your life with a companion animal, then you know what I am saying is true.

“Johnny Boy arrived so sick with Parvovirus we didn’t think he would live.”

My first dog as an adult was an Aussie/Blue Heeler mix named Boofer. She was brilliant. The only dog I truly did not have to train. I just talked to her and she knew exactly what I wanted from her. And she would do her level best to please me. She had to be put down at the young age of seven after a diagnosis of a pituitary tumor. We managed her symptoms with medication as long as we could but when she went blind, it was time to set her free.

Animal owners know their time with their fur-babies is limited. Boofer was gone too soon. Old Mama Kitty was at least 23-24 years old. Sidney was 14…a big, goofy black lab who owned my heart during a really dark period of my life. Mr. Virgo showed up with a 10-year-old Yorkie/Maltese mix named Cricket who lived to be seventeen. She died just three months before Mr. Virgo did. That was my last dog. I just didn’t have it in me to do it again and my lifestyle isn’t conducive to pet ownership.

“Johnny Boy is absolutely CRAZY over kittens! He has to have one…always!”

My friend Aimee is the Grande Dame of animal rescues. If it moves and squeaks, oinks, meows, moos, neighs, or barks…Aimee has to bring it home. Her husband rolls his eyes when another goat or chicken or rabbit or puppy makes an appearance at their West Virginia homestead. It’s all a show…he adores Aimee and if she needs to rescue another dog, she rescues another dog. As she says…she married well.

Four years ago, Aimee fostered little Johnny Boy…a mastiff-boxer mix who was dreadfully thin. They soon found he was also dreadfully sick. Johnny nearly died….several times…of parvovirus and parasites and any number of problems. They went to every length to save this little guy’s life. When he got through the initial illness, Johnny Boy started having trouble walking. His joints became swollen and painful. They finally discovered he had a very rare disease of the epiphyseal joints in his legs. After a trip to the State Veterinary School in Columbus, a treatment was finally found and Johnny boy began to thrive and grow.

Then, just before the holidays, Aimee found hundreds of little bumps under Johnny’s skin. Again, Johnny Boy does nothing halfway and it took quite some doing to get a diagnosis. When they did, it was not good. It was a rare cancer and there is nothing they can do for him. So, Aimee decided Johnny Boy’s end of life would include the very best days ever.

“Johnny & Jaxx…BFF’s Forever!”

A few months ago, Johnny’s BFF…Jaxx…moved to Florida with his human person. And Johnny was devastated. When they found out Johnny Boy doesn’t have a long time to live, Jaxx’s owner drove him from Florida and left him in Aimee’s care for as long as Johnny needs him. Johnny and Jaxx are insanely bonded. I mean…they FaceTime each other. Seriously!

The other night, Aimee threw Johnny Boy a four year “Gotcha Party” to celebrate and Johnny, Jaxx, and Rosie donned their party hats and sat in the little chairs around the table. They ate scrambled eggs for supper and had Pupcake for dessert. I loved watching the video!

Aimee posted a video yesterday that shows Johnny having a little trouble breathing. His type of tumor releases histamines and they make his nasal passages swell which in turn makes it difficult to breathe. She knows this is the beginning of the end. And, trust me, she will never let Johnny Boy suffer. When it is his time, she will let him go peacefully. In the meantime, she suffers the anticipatory grief knowing Johnny’s time on earth is short. Yet, she shares him with us…and with Jaxx. I SO love this crazy mutt who came in and stole all our hearts and showed us what loving a rescue is all about. He truly is made of love and sunshine. ❤️

“The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.”
Proverbs 12:10 NIV

Into the Light

Wed, 09 Jan 2019 02:30:10 -0600

“For He called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light.” 1 Peter 2:9

I’ve kind of had a theme going here the last few days given the time of year it is. I still sometimes sit in awe when I look back to where I was nearly twenty years ago. This is how we know how far we’ve come…by looking back in wonder. I struggled so long with a spirit of depression. When the veil lifted and I walked back into the light, it was surreal. Supernatural. Which is exactly what it was, this lifting.

I am always consciously monitoring my mental state in the winter. I never, ever want to go back to that dark place again, so I carefully check myself often. Am I keeping up with personal hygiene? It’s one of the first things to slip. Am I sleeping too much? Not enough? How’s my temper? I get cranky when I get blue. Am I comforting myself with food? Am I eating out of boredom? Am I getting out and doing fun things and engaging with people? These are all problem areas and can signal depression.

We had the fourth day in a row of warmth and sunshine yesterday. As a matter of fact, it was 64 late yesterday afternoon. The sun peeked in and out all day. It was glorious. I went out to visit TOW-Wanda. I plugged her in to charge up the batteries. She needs a good cleaning. I had company in there during the wedding and I never really cleaned much after that. One thing that really lifts my mood in the winter is to spend a couple of days in the camper, so I’m getting her fixed up.

Being prepared for the grey days of winter can go a long way in warding off the blues. Keeping healthy foods in the house and limiting sweet snacks helps you make good choices when you want to cozy in with a bag of chips or a plate of brownies. Chilled, fresh oranges are sweet and juicy this time of year. If you really want a salty snack, the tiny bags of popcorn can hit the spot without overloading calories. I don’t want to count calories. I just want to remain mindful of what’s going in. And try to move more.

Cleaning out a closet or that one junk room you’ve been ignoring can lift your mood and give you a sense of accomplishment. Or, starting a new project. We just started working on the master bathroom this week. It will be fun to see that take shape. Whatever it takes to keep you from hibernating and falling into a deep, blue funk is worth the effort to put towards keeping in the light. ❤️

“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.””
Deuteronomy 31:8 NIV

Transformation

Tue, 08 Jan 2019 02:30:50 -0600

“God often uses our deepest pain as the launching pad of our greatest calling.”

Grief comes in a variety of circumstances. My first experience with grief was when my Pop-Pop died just after I graduated from high school. I was devastated. I lost a job I desperately needed when Hubby #2 was in his first year of Medical School. The rehab center where I worked was experiencing some financial difficulties and I was let go. I felt it was personal until the next month when fifty more staff members were given their walking papers. I guess misery DOES love company. I grieved deeply over that loss because I loved the job, for one thing. For another, I was young and had never experienced anything like that. My next major grief experience was the overdose and subsequent loss of my marriage and the alienation of my children. That was horrifying. Then I lost my grandma, my dog, and Mr. Virgo in less than a year.

Every time I’ve faced grief, I’ve thought my world would end. I couldn’t figure out how to live after those losses. And every time, I survived. Not only survived, but eventually thrived. I learned skills from coping with grief. Grief chiseled me into the person I have become. And as painful as it was to go through, God came in and used that pain as a launching pad of my greatest calling…my mission, as it were.

I’ve been having some meetings and there are exciting changes coming in 2019. Nothing I can talk about yet, but I can see God’s hand all over it. I was talking about it with Mr. FixIt the other night and told him I’ve been praying for these exact things…I have to walk forward into this new territory. Don’t worry…I’m not going anywhere. Just more fun and excitement I can’t wait to share with you all! ❤️

“Whenever, though, they turn to face God as Moses did, God removes the veil and there they are—face-to-face! They suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone. And when God is personally present, a living Spirit, that old, constricting legislation is recognized as obsolete. We’re free of it! All of us! Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face. And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.”
2 Corinthians 3:16-18 MSG

January Bluebirds

Mon, 07 Jan 2019 02:30:28 -0600

“Mountain Bluebirds are glorious in January!”

I don’t know about where you are, but here in West Virginia, the weather has been lovely. We have had three days straight of sunshine and near fifty degrees. When Mr. FixIt and I left church yesterday, we both let out an audible sigh.

“Ok, this IS a beautiful day, isn’t it?” I love that my sweet husband notices such things and really FEELS them.

“Yes,” I said. “I can get through a West Virginia winter if I just have a few days like this to lift me up.”

That is one thing about Colorado, besides my wonderful family, that I miss desperately. Plenty of sunshine days in the Rocky Mountains. And there truly is nothing more beautiful than Mountain Bluebirds on the crisp white of snow.

My friend, Roxanne Morris, is an incredibly talented artist and photographer. She caught these images yesterday and I asked if I could share them with you. They make me smile. Mr. Virgo has brought me bluebirds from the beginning. He knew how much I loved them. I cannot see them without thinking of him. And, since yesterday was my re-birthday, it was only fitting that he send me bluebirds…albeit through my friend’s lens and Facebook. These are COLORADO bluebirds. These are the same as the ones that fly around his grave when I go visit him.

“The flash of blue against the crisp, white snow of Colorado makes Mountain Bluebirds a favorite.”

I marveled all day yesterday at the vast differences in my life now compared to the same day nineteen years ago. I stood in church and sang with great joy and enthusiasm. I held hands with my sweet husband. We enjoyed breakfast together after church. We shared some time at the farm. And we came home to the Ponderosa. I spoke to Daughter #1 and she told me she loves me and misses me. I chatted with Daughter #2 and we shared our love. I received a text from Hubby #2…the one to whom I was married at the time of the overdose. It was a lovely text with pictures of their dogs and he was joyful and there was no mention of the past and my heart filled with love and joy for our healing. And, to top it all off, Mr. Virgo’s beloved Eagles won the wild card game yesterday. So, yeah…he’s happy, too. And still sending me bluebirds. ❤️

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.””

Jeremiah 29:11, 13-14 NIV

The Pivoting Point

Sun, 06 Jan 2019 02:30:09 -0600

“January 6, 2000 looked much like this...cold, snow-covered, sunny. Little did I know how the day would end.”

When I woke up the morning of January 6, 2000...I had no idea I had spent the last night of my life in Hubby #2’s bed. Because, it very nearly became the ACTUAL last night of my life. In about 12 hours, I was going to be in the ER fighting for my life after an overdose.

This is the day that I refer to as my re-birthday. It was the day I hit rock bottom and had to start navigating my way back up. It wasn’t like I really wanted to die. I just wanted the pain to stop. Everything had become so painful.

I used to tell the details of this day over and over and over to anyone who would sit still. I told about my relationship to a man who wasn’t taking care of me the way I needed. He’s not a bad man at all. Years of illness and my altered personality from all those drugs had taken their toll on both of us. I told about the psychiatrist who misdiagnosed me as having a chemical imbalance in my brain. I told about how my life experiences, including episodes of childhood sexual abuse, had created the perfect storm that produced that fateful day.

It’s nineteen years now. So close to two decades. Not quite one third of my life has passed. SO much has happened in those nineteen years, including burying my next husband. I am a sum of my experiences, as we all are. But, I am not DEFINED by those experiences anymore.

The person I am today doesn’t resemble who I was back then. The only cells that are the same ones now that were present on that night at the turn of the millennium are neurons…the very cells I was trying to shut off. Everything else has been made new…both physically with the passage of time, and spiritually with my salvation.

The value of the story has changed. I no longer want you to take sides with me and hate my ex-husband. I no longer want to make excuses for my behaviors. I no longer want you to feel sorry for me. These things were all present for some time in the retelling. Now, the value of the story isn’t so much the yardstick that measures how far I’ve come, but more a testimony that…no matter how far you’ve gone down the wrong path…you can turn around and have a better life.

While my abuse came from prescriptions, and Danielle’s (see my post about her earlier this week) came from street drugs and a needle, we are no different. We were both addicted and we were both saved by the same Grace. We were both snatched from the jaws of death by a loving and forgiving God. He didn’t cause our problems, but he did allow us to walk through them so we could learn and grow into the purpose He designed for our lives.

It’s hard for me to believe that was me…that I was that far gone. I will tell you this, though…I will forever tell how Jesus picked me up and carried me when I stumbled and fell on January 6, 2000. ❤️

“so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”
Isaiah 55:11 NIV

Snatched From the Jaws of Death

Fri, 04 Jan 2019 02:30:51 -0600

“She was snatched from the jaws of addiction and saved by the Blood of Jesus.”

She’s just twenty-four. Yet she was addicted to heroin for six years. And occasionally she did meth. On April 14th, she overdosed on both and landed in the ICU for four days on life support. She wasn’t even out of the ER when she popped up on my radar. I’m in a small group at church with someone who knows Danielle very well. The text came in begging for prayers to save this beautiful girl.

And pray we did. Our whole church prayed for her. Actively. Daily. There were prayer warriors stationed at the hospital. There were friends and family talking with her. They wanted to connect her with someone who could help her in this fight. And they wanted Jesus in Danielle’s corner.

She resisted, as you might imagine. At first she said she’d talk to him. Then she wouldn’t. And finally, just before discharge, she relented. I’m unsure of the exact timeline, but I know it wasn’t long till this beautiful girl was saved in a parking lot with many prayers surrounding her.

The change that has come over Danielle is remarkable. When you see her today, and see the light of Jesus on her, it is so hard to imagine her shooting heroin into her veins. She has attended a faith-based residential program three times. These weren’t three dropouts. This was three separate sessions. Because, as anyone who has been set free of the demon of addiction can tell you, it’s never a one and done situation. It is a life-long learning process. And she is committed.

A couple of days ago, Danielle took a plane to Hawaii to attend discipleship training. When she arrived, her luggage was somewhere in Dallas. When she got to the campus to check in, she found out there had been a miscommunication and she was short on funds…four figures short on funds. She reached out to her church family and we raised the funds in about three hours. There is no way to hide God’s work in this. And it is so obvious the enemy doesn’t like it. He tried to throw a wrench in the works at every turn but our God is a mighty God. It wasn’t long till the enemy was put in his place.

Last night, I watched War Room. I’ve always considered myself to be…if not a prayer warrior…then at the very least, a fervent prayer. Oh, my…that movie has me planning a War Room of my own! People like Danielle remind us of the power of prayer. I am so proud of her hard work and her willingness to keep plugging at this. I can’t wait to see what she learns in discipleship training. I cant wait to see what God has in store for her! I’m so happy God plucked her from the jaws of death because I know He has plans for her…to prosper her and not to harm her. ❤️

“I must go on boasting. Although there is nothing to be gained, I will go on to visions and revelations from the Lord. I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know—God knows. And I know that this man—whether in the body or apart from the body I do not know, but God knows— was caught up to paradise and heard inexpressible things, things that no one is permitted to tell. I will boast about a man like that, but I will not boast about myself, except about my weaknesses.”
2 Corinthians 12:1-5 NIV

We Rise by Lifting Others Up

Thu, 03 Jan 2019 02:30:15 -0600

“Blowing out someone else’s candle won’t make yours shine brighter. Remember that.”

Have you ever had someone in your life that went out of their way to put you down? Of course you have. We all have. I was in a long term relationship that was like that. Comments like, “You aren’t wearing THAT are you?” “Well, THAT was stupid!” These things take a toll on you after a while. It took a long time, and a great deal of therapy, to learn those things were said by a person who was egotistical but still suffered emotional injuries from a less than demonstrative childhood.

It happened with my dad. It happened with most of the men I’ve been involved with. Men who suffer so they must make YOU suffer in order to feel better about themselves. The wounds run deep.

Mr. FixIt and I have a different kind of relationship than I’ve ever experienced. I am much more free to express my feelings with him than I have been with anyone else. I think part of that is age. Part is setting the ground rules early in the relationship that we can say anything. I’m still learning how to govern that. Too much freedom and some things come out sounding unkind. Many a truth was said in jest.

We rise by lifting others up. I know from experience what that constant needling feels like and I don’t ever want my sweetheart to feel less than loved to the max. At the same time, there are moments in any relationship when you have to blow off steam. That’s fine, as long as you fight fair. Life is just so darned short. I want to really live it…not walk on eggshells like I did in the past.

I pray every day that I will give my very best to my husband and my family, to my friends and acquaintances. I strive to be my best self, but I don’t beat myself up when I fall short. I just try again the next day. It’s called being human. ❤️

“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”
Ephesians 4:29 NIV

Hope AND Joy!

Wed, 02 Jan 2019 02:30:31 -0600

“The world is changed by your example, not by your opinion.” - Paul Coelho

The other day I said my word for 2019 would be “Joy”. Then I decided it really should be “Hope”. Well, we all know it is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind and I’ve decided to have TWO words this year…Hope AND Joy! No reason I can’t strive for both and they go hand in hand, right?

I was looking through my photos from the last year. I try to use my own photos for my blog but sometimes something comes along that I just need to share. That is the case in today’s meme.

One of the photos I saw yesterday as I was preparing to write this post was one of my sweet Uncle Bud, devoted husband of my Aunt Viv who died the day after Mr. FixIt and I got married. I was so worried about him the last couple of years. As Aunt Viv’s dementia worsened, he got less and less sleep and had absolutely no time to take care of himself. The last two years he also had the added responsibility of caring for his sister…the elderly aunt I originally came to West Virginia to try to help. I really hated that hers and my inability to get along added an extra burden on him, but it couldn’t be helped. She and I were oil and water. Or probably more accurate, gasoline and a match.

Every week, I called my Uncle Bud to see how he was doing. And all too often I suggested perhaps they should seek some sort of alternative to caring for both women in the home, virtually unassisted. And every time, he patiently replied, “We’ll see.” I realized long back, this is not my place to butt in, so I tried to stay out of it. I wasn’t always successful, but I tried.

When my aunt finally passed, I realized…that was his sweetheart. The love of his life. He took vows that he would love her and care for her in sickness and in health. While no one would have held it against him if he would have placed either of my aunts in a nursing home, this was just not the way he was raised and he has a huge heart. He simply could not do that for his wife. And now, I am sure, he will care for his sister as long as he possibly can.

When I came across a picture of my Uncle Bud yesterday, I had to smile. Here was this 80-something year old man whom I adore, hunched over his brand new smart phone. Apparently, someone felt it was time for him to ditch the old flip phone he’s been using forever and come into 21st century technology.

I can just imagine what he must think. I remember when I got my first laptop. I brought it to West Virginia to show my grandma. I signed up for AOL specifically so I could use the internet anywhere. I plugged it into her phone line and rang up the dialup modem. After the beeps and boops, up it popped. We sat there for hours looking up stuff. She was intrigued, but I don’t think it really sank in what she was looking at. It was all a mystery to her.

As I head into the new year armed with “HOPE” and “JOY”, I want to remember always that it is my example, not my opinion, that will change the world. It takes a village to change things. And if we all work together, we can raise the collective vibration of the planet to a place of awareness and peace. If we strive to go high when others go low, we can set our sites on a common goal…one of peace and mutual understanding. When we keep God at the center, he equips us with all we need to succeed. This is my prayer…my most fervent hope, in order to find infinite joy! ❤️

“But after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who calls you to share his eternal glory in union with Christ, will himself perfect you and give you firmness, strength, and a sure foundation. To him be the power for ever! Amen.”
1 Peter 5:10-11 GNB

Out With the Old...In With the New

Tue, 01 Jan 2019 02:30:18 -0600

“It was a foggy, rainy day in West Virginia for the last day of 2018.

My word for last year was “presence”. I think, overall, I did a pretty good job keeping my focus in the here and now. Nothing I can change in the past, and worrying about tomorrow is a complete waste of time. I know the other day I said my word for the New Year was going to be joy, but after giving it a great deal of thought, I decided “HOPE” was far more appropriate.

Hope is such a gift. I remember the first year after losing Mr. Virgo, I really felt hopeless. I really looked forward to the new year because I could say, “My husband died last year.” As if that sleight of hand would magically make everything better. It didn’t. And I was perplexed that it did not.

Hope. Hope is a gift from God. I have great hope…a seemingly endless supply. I have enough that I will share it by the bucketloads in the coming year. And, when I speak, I will be mindful to instill hope in others through my speech and actions.

A year is gone, another ushered in to replace it. May this be a year of peace, of love, of good health, and abundant hope. May you always have enough. ❤️

“Even those who are young grow weak; young people can fall exhausted. But those who trust in the LORD for help will find their strength renewed. They will rise on wings like eagles; they will run and not get weary; they will walk and not grow weak.”
Isaiah 40:30-31 GNB

Saying Goodbye to 2018

Mon, 31 Dec 2018 02:30:50 -0600

“A mother-daughter duo singing worship songs to close out the year.” Photo Credit: The Warehouse Church

We had a special celebration at church yesterday. Instead of having the kids over in their area, they joined the adults. And, instead of hearing a message from Pastor Justin, we ended the year with an hour of praise music and communion. It was a special treat to see the children of our worship team on stage singing with their parents. This little gal was amazing and it warmed my heart to watch her.

As the old year fades, we cannot help but look over the last twelve months and review what we have accomplished. It is easy to be critical of what we perceive as mistakes. The woulda-shoulda-coulda’s can creep in, and that really doesn’t serve us well. Looking back with a hopeful heart takes practice.

I was telling someone yesterday that I was glad to have 2018 over with. But when I really gave that some thought, I realized that’s just wishing your life away. There were some very sad things that happened this year, true. I lost three people I loved very much…all within two months. Their deaths saddened me greatly and I have learned enough about life to know…the greater the love, the deeper the grief. I was blessed to have these three in my life to love and love me back.

Then, there were all these health problems I had to deal with. They were a major pain, but when I look back I realize I was so blessed to have insurance. I know there are people who can’t afford to see a doctor and let medical issues go till it’s too late. I was blessed with knowledgeable physicians and excellent hospital care. I cannot complain.

The highlight of my year, of course, was getting married to my best friend. Mr. FixIt is my rock…my life partner…my playmate. My life is so much happier with him in it and I gained a bonus family!

So, I won’t wish away time. I will remember Aunt Viv, and my cousin Tom, and my “other-mother” Louisa with much love…keeping their memories alive by saying their names. And I will cherish the gifts God gives me daily…love, insurance, health, good doctors, a roof over my head, food on my table, a loving family, and a man who thinks the sun rises at my feet. As I head into the new year, I will tuck this one away with solemn gratitude.

❤️

“Praise the LORD, my soul, and do not forget how kind he is.”
Psalms 103:2 GNB

Gwendolyn’s Journey with Arthrogryposis

Sun, 30 Dec 2018 02:30:15 -0600

“Baby Gwen was born with arthrogryposis…a rare congenital anomaly that causes some joints in the body to be stiff and bent in odd directions.”

A few months ago, I asked you to pray for my friend’s little baby granddaughter and you all stood up and joined hands and prayed hard. Baby Gwen came into this world a beautiful little flower…but some of her petals were damaged. She has arthrogryposis…a rare congenital defect that affects multiple joints. There are typically joint contractures which may be stuck in one position. The muscles surrounding these joints may be weak, stiff, or even missing altogether. Little Gwen’s left leg was bent backwards and lay across her tummy. Her feet and hands are turned inward and her little chin is drastically receded.

“Her damaged petals are what made her more beautiful than all the other flowers.” A. J. Lawless

As Gwen has grown, some of these contractures have needed to be addressed more urgently. Because her lower jaw recedes, she cannot drink from a bottle. She eventually had a stomach tube placed to get tube feedings directly into her stomach. And, because she can’t swallow, her normal saliva can choke her to death. She has to have someone awake with her 24/7 in order to suction her airway when her secretions get in her way. Between her airway and tube feedings, physical therapy and doctor’s visits, little Gwen is more than a fulltime job. I’m telling you this though…God couldn’t have given her to a better family than the one she’s in.

“Gwen has had a series of casts placed on her legs to bring them down into position for surgical repair.”

The latest surgery was a tendectomy. This will clear the way for eventually walking. I know it’s hard to imagine her ever walking when you look at that newborn picture, but she has had a series of casts as well as the surgery and her legs are down much closer where they need to be. She is just now being able to coo and gurgle baby gibberish and it makes your heart soar when you see her in a video. Her huge, sensitive eyes look into your very soul. She is the sweetest little thing.

“Baby Gwen is fed through a tube placed surgically into her stomach because she cannot swallow well enough to eat.”

Gwen’s parents are young. Mommy had to quit her job to stay home with the baby. With all the expenses that go along with a situation like this, there is also a Go Fund Me page to help with daily expenses and challenges. I rarely share this kind of thing, asking for donations, but I know this family personally. They are a wonderful, close knit family who needs a little extra help. It’s the end of the year. If you find you need to donate a little more, or if the Spirit moves you, please consider helping this young family out.

“The muscles in Gwen’s arms and hands are weak and she is just now learning to ‘hold’ toys.”

You can find Gwendolyn’s story at:

https://www.facebook.com/GwendolynsJourney/

You can find their Go Fund Me page at:

https://www.gofundme.com/gwendolyn-strong

“I look forward to every post as I follow Gwendolyn’s Journey. This baby will never be told she can’t do something…they will just find a way.”

“As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man who had been born blind. His followers asked him, “Teacher, whose sin caused this man to be born blind—his own sin or his parents’ sin?” Jesus answered, “It is not this man’s sin or his parents’ sin that made him blind. This man was born blind so that God’s power could be shown in him.”
John 9:1-3 ICB

Christmas: A Season of Healing

Mon, 24 Dec 2018 02:30:33 -0600

“My Santa and Mrs. Claus”

Dear Santa,

This is the sixth Christmas without my Mr. Virgo. I know you remember the day I sat beside you in your great big comfy chair. It was that first awful Christmas after he died. I was crying and you saw me standing there alone. And that great big heart of yours was so soft…you moved over to make room for me and patted the seat, letting me know I should come sit for a while.

I was crying…trying so hard to regain my composure. You waited patiently for me to gather my wits about me. Finally, I leaned towards you. You leaned in to hear. “My husband died. I need a new heart.” I could almost hear your heart breaking for me. You put your arm around my shoulders and whispered back. “I’m so sorry.” Your voice was thick with emotion. You patted my back as my shoulders shook with sobs.

It wasn’t long till I got it together. I apologized for being such a mess. You said, “Nonsense. You’re perfect!” As I prepared to leave, you asked, “Won’t you have your picture taken with me?” My heart skipped a beat and for just a moment…a fleeting moment, I felt the joy of childhood as I nodded yes.

We took a photo, you and I…and we were bonded in that moment. I’ve written to you every year since that December day in 2013. I’ve related my progress as I’ve navigated this grief journey…my ups and downs. My successes and the stumbles. And here it is…2018…and have I got news for you!

I got married!!! Yes…it’s true! I came back to West Virginia two years ago. Along the way, I ran into my best guy pal from high school and, well…the rest is history! We were married in a field at his home. We were married by our lifelong friend…a pastor. And, Santa…he such a good man, my Mr. FixIt. We are two peas in a pod. He goes to church with me every Sunday. It is the first time I have been equally yoked in a marriage and it is amazing!

I just wanted to let you know I’m doing well. I still have moments where I experience grief. I always will…it is the price you pay for great love. I continue my mission of writing here and reaching others who are on the same journey. Thank you for being there for me that sad, sad day. Thank you for being my cheerleader. And thank you again…from the very bottom of my heart…for being real and asking Jesus to bring me a new heart. ❤️

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
Psalm 147:3 NIV

Say “I Love You” With a Little Yarn & a Lotta Love

Tue, 18 Dec 2018 02:30:47 -0600

“Hand knitted dishcloth with the ASL sign for “I Love You” in the pattern.”

Yesterday’s post had me thinking about quick, last minute gifts for the holidays. I was in town Sunday afternoon so I stopped at Walmart and picked up some cotton yarn. Those cute patterns for dishcloths had me thinking I’d like to whip up some.

Mr. FixIt had to go to town yesterday to help a friend build something and do a little Christmas shopping. I elected to stay home. I asked Alexa to play “Soft Christmas Music”, turned up the stove in the family room, grabbed a cup of coffee, and curled up by the tree. I pulled up the fox fur blanket that I had made from the coat Mr. Virgo gave me years ago. And I set to knitting.

In the comments on yesterday’s post, my friend Jamie told me someone made her a dishcloth with the ASL symbol for “I Love You” knitted into it. I asked for the pattern and her friend sent the link. I still have the remnants of grief brain so I had to really concentrate on the pattern. I had to take out a row every now and then when I couldn’t remember where I was in the pattern. But before too long, I had one finished! I’ve started a second dishcloth from one of the pattern in the link I included yesterday.

The other day, Daughter #2 called and said she missed my cooking. I asked her what dish she loved the most. Turkey Tetrawhatzit…my version of Turkey Tetrazzini. So, before Mr. FixIt got home, I put some of the frozen turkey from Thanksgiving in a pot with a little water and simmered it till I could shred the meat with a fork. In an electric skillet, I sautéed half an onion, some sliced mushrooms and celery in a little butter. I added a drained can of mixed veggies. When the turkey was shredded, I tossed it in the skillet with about a pint of the drippings from the pan I roasted the turkey in. While that simmered, I cooked some egg noodles. I mixed up some flour in some of the broth and thickened the turkey mixture, stirred in a cup of sour cream, and brought it just to a simmer then added the drained cooked noodles. Topped with a little shredded Parmesan and…voila! Turkey Tetrawhatzit! Comfort food at it’s best…and it made me think of my daughter. Mr. FixIt said…”Send her a picture!” I did…then called her so she could “join us for dinner!”

It was a lovely day…peaceful, comforting, homey, warm with a big dash of “I Love You!” ❤️

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
Psalms 23:6 ESV

Forgiveness Equals Freedom

Mon, 17 Dec 2018 02:30:42 -0600

“Forgiveness=Freedom”

I’m not sure what I expected when I became a Christian in 2004. Lightning? The parting of the sea? Enlightenment? Thunder? I do know what I received was life altering. I received a healing to my very core. I felt like every cell in my body had been made new. It was remarkable.

When I was a baby Christian, I was like a sponge. I knew God, and loved Him. I knew Jesus, and finally embraced Him. But, when it came to the Holy Spirit, I was clueless. I had no idea exactly who He was, how He worked, what His function was. As the years have gone by, I’ve learned more and more and have developed my relationship with the Holy Trinity. And once in a while I get a big A-Ha moment that shines a light on some aspect I didn’t understand before.

I’ve long known and understood when the Holy Spirit talks to me. Those “nudges” that move and steer me in a certain direction are an indication of His presence. When I worship or hear a particularly moving sermon or scripture and I get goose bumps…that’s the Holy Spirit. All those years when I felt a knock on the door of my heart to let Jesus into my life? That was the Holy Spirit. I get all that now. And sometimes when I call out to Him and get the answer in moments, it reiterates just how close the Holy Spirit is….He lives inside us. He is that aspect of God that touches our hearts and minds with an intimacy only God can provide. I had that experience this weekend.

We had lunch with some of the local residents who live near the farm. Over lunch, my elderly aunt became a topic of discussion and I recounted how difficult that time had been. Then at church yesterday, Pastor Justin spoke on forgiveness. True forgiveness breaks the chains that are holding you prisoner. I thought back to my conversation of the day before and realized, I still had a spirit of unforgiveness as I was holding some resentment and hurt in my heart over some of the things my aunt said and did while I was trying to help her. In retrospect, I was quite filled with “You have no idea what she put me through!” That resentment, however small, is the poison I keep drinking yet she is totally unharmed.

At the end of services, Pastor Justin did an alter call and asked those to come forward who wished to let go of resentments and hurts and embrace a spirit of forgiveness. He came to each of us and laid his hands on our heads and prayed over us. I left feeling completely changed…yet again.

Do you have someone you are harboring a spirit of unforgiveness for? Is there someone who has hurt you that has left you saying, “I’ll show you!”? If so, this is a beautiful time to just let it go. Pray for those who have hurt you. Seek ways to praise them in public for the blessings they have given you…even if that blessing is the insight you gained from their unkindness. And, this is the season of giving. Send them a card. Stick a $5 gift card for coffee or to a restaurant. Tell them, “You know, I just wanted to let you know what a blessing you have been this year.” Or “I know you’ve gone through a rough patch and I just wanted to reach out and tell you I’m thinking of you.” Forgiveness goes a long way toward uniting us. I’m not saying send a gift card to your abuser. Or even reaching out for conversation with someone who physically or emotionally abused you. But you can still pray for them. The spirit of forgiveness in you just might bring you a new level of peace and healing of your own. ❤️

“bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”
Colossians 3:13 ESV

Kitchen Comforts

Tue, 11 Dec 2018 02:30:08 -0600

“Mr. FixIt brought me roses.”

When I’m struggling with grief, a day in the kitchen does wonders for me. Mr. FixIt knew I hadn’t slept well the last couple of nights since learning the sad news of Miss Louisa passing away, so he was gracious and let me sleep in as long as I wanted to yesterday. I must say, when I awoke around 11:00, I did feel much better. I padded into the kitchen to make my coffee and greet my sweet man in the family room…steaming mug in hand.

I snuggled into the loveseat and wrapped my blue fox blanket around me. The Christmas tree was decorated and standing to my left in front of the big picture windows. The gas stove was cranked up and putting off some decent heat. The heavy frost still laid white on the grass and trees in my view. And, amazingly, the forsythia had several bright yellow blooms on them casting a stark contrast to the grey palette of December.

I sipped my coffee while Mr. FixIt read the paper. The TV droned quietly in the background…some fourteen year old was answering questions on a game show. I tuned it out as I stared at the decorations on the tree and took inventory of my feelings. The pain I felt when I heard the news of yet another loss was easing a little and shifting to the lonesomeness of not being able to pick up the phone and call whenever I want. It is familiar turf for me.

After a while, I sighed and went into the bedroom to dress. Mr. FixIt put on his insulated coveralls and went outside to work a while. I carried my second cup to the living room and sat down to knit on a pair of socks. I texted my friend Gail who is touring Europe to see how she is doing. My friend Janine sent me a text to remind me she was going live at 3:00CST. I put my phone away and turned Pandora to “Traditional Christmas.” I spent the next hour or so in quiet meditation, my hands wrapping the wool yarn around the needles with the muscle memory of a skill I learned in my youth.

I decided to mix up a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies and was pulling the last batch from the oven as Mr. FixIt came in from the cold. I turned on the kettle and he had a nice cup of tea as he ate a cookie, still warm from the oven. He watched me move around the kitchen, cleaning up the bowls and baking pans. I sensed his eyes on me. This is the relationship we delight in. I looked up from wiping the counter and he smiled.

“You treat me so well.”

I smiled back. A knowing smile. An appreciative smile. This is the part of him that is like Mr. Virgo. He loves and appreciates me and is quick to tell me. I love that.

“I like spoiling you,” I grinned. He laughed, gave me a little pat as he tucked his mug in the kitchen sink. He pulled up his coveralls and went back outside. I watched him as he walked out the door. How can a coverall make a man look that sexy? I smiled as I tucked the towel in the door handle of the oven and turned out the light. I had another hour to knit before I started supper.

When I was at the farm the other night, I brought home a pot roast from the freezer. When it was thawed, I cut it in cubes. I put about a cup of flour in a gallon ziplock bag with some salt and pepper and dropped in the cubed roast. I tossed the meat in the flour, rubbing the pieces through the bag to ensure they were well coated then dropped them into a hot skillet with a little oil in it. When the meat had been seared on all sides, I removed it and put it in my electric pressure cooker. I put in a can of beef broth and a can of water, replaced the lid and pressure cooked the roast for 55 minutes. Once it was finished, I let it cool for about twenty minutes without releasing the pressure. I released the pressure carefully and removed the lid. The meat bubbled in a nice thickened gravy and smelled divine. I poured the meat and gravy out into a large storage container and set it on the counter. When it was cool enough, I popped it in the fridge to be used during the week for meals and sandwiches.

Yesterday, I cooked up half a bag of egg noodles. I took out half the meat and gravy and placed it in a saucepan on low heat to warm up. I sautéed a whole package of sliced mushrooms in two tablespoons of butter. Everything was ready at the same time so I drained the pasta, and put it back in the pan, poured the beef and gravy in with the sautéed mushrooms and added 3/4 cup of sour cream. I gave it a quick stir and called Mr. FixIt to the table for supper.

A day like that is soothing to the spirit. It reminded me that, while I miss those I have lost, I have skills in place that I did not have when I lost Mr. Virgo. It is not lost on me that I have the added blessing of this sweet man to be my companion and helpmate to love and support me as I navigate the losses. I kind of feel like I’m cheating…I don’t have to grieve alone like I did when I became a widow. That kind of grief is so much harder than this. I am grateful. ❤️

“‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.””
Revelation 21:4 NIV

Two Angels

Mon, 10 Dec 2018 02:30:27 -0600

“Miss Louisa looks on as Mr. Virgo hugs me at our wedding. She loved being the honorary mom.”

I contacted the photographer who shot Mr. Virgo’s and my wedding. I knew there would be many beautiful photos of my “other mother”, Miss Louisa. Marcia was wonderful. Although I offered to pay her for copies, she sent me a link to a digital folder with instructions to download the photos to use however I wish. I was busy all day yesterday with church and a trip to the mall to watch our little great granddaughter scream on Santa’s lap. I went to the farm while Mr. FixIt bowled. When I got home, I finally had time to sit down and view the photos.

I was scrolling through them…remembering the day. How proud Louisa was to be my honorary mom. It was cool but the sun held the promise of spring and we were married out on the deck overlooking beautiful Mt. Sopris and the Roaring Fork River. I came to this photograph and my heart squeezed. Two angels.

Just then, Mr. FixIt called from the driveway and asked me to come open the door because he had his hands full. As I opened the door, he handed me a bouquet of roses.

“Here, baby…you’ve had a really hard week.”

I smiled, gave him a hug and went to get the Mikasa crystal vase for the flowers as he took off his coat. Suddenly, it all hit me. I was trimming the ends of the stems, silent tears coming down my cheeks. I had my back to him, but he knew. He came in the kitchen and, concern in his voice said, “Are you ok?”

I’ve never cried in front of Mr. FixIt. I cried in front of Mr. Virgo once. He gave me a look like, “Really? We’re doing THIS?” I stopped immediately and never did it again. It’s not that he wasn’t empathetic…he just didn’t emote much. Mr. FixIt is much the same as me on the emotion scale. It’s comforting knowing I can emote freely. Anyway, he wrapped me up in his arms and would have stood there in the kitchen all night hugging me if that’s what I needed.

I knew the day would come when I would lose Louisa. We almost lost her nine years ago when she became very ill. They didn’t expect her to live through the night but she was a fighter. I knew when she died I would feel the same pain I felt when I lost my own mother. And that’s exactly the case. Anyone who got to know her and be close to her were blessed indeed. I got fifteen years with her in my life. I’m one of the lucky ones. ❤️

“Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children,”
Titus 2:4 NIV

Finding a Friend

Fri, 07 Dec 2018 02:30:13 -0600

“I met one of my readers last night for dinner when she came through town! So nice to meet you, Jo!”

I often receive private messages from readers with comments, suggestions, questions, and sometimes seeking a little extra love and support if they are going through something particularly tough. This was the case when I heard from Jo. Her husband had been recently diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Like me, she knew she needed to put something joyful in front of her to get through what she knew was coming. She was experiencing anticipatory grief.

Jo was intrigued by my camping escapades and how I used my little camper travels to help me navigate grief. She joined Sisters on the Fly and borrowed a Class C RV from a friend. While her husband was still well enough to go, she took him camping. They enjoyed that trip, but her husband made her promise not to buy that particular RV. It was older, and he knew repairs would be coming soon. He didn’t want her getting stranded somewhere or to be saddled with extra expenses so she promised.

We talked about getting together in the spring, then spring turned to summer and Jo’s husband continued to worsen. Then, after 45 years of marriage and countless sessions of chemo and radiation, her sweet husband passed peacefully, November 17th, surrounded by his loving family at home. A wake was held in Virginia last weekend and Jo made arrangements to have a second wake in Indiana with her eight siblings and their families this coming weekend.

While she could have flown to Indiana, Jo decided to drive, much to the dismay of her family. Not a week as a widow and she was already being told “You’re too old!” “You can’t do that alone!” Luckily, this tiny woman with the spiky white hair is feisty and put the kibosh on that. She informed them that, not only was she going to drive to Indiana…alone…she was going to start looking for an RV. They were aghast! She had another reason for wanting to drive. She knew she would be traveling through West Virginia and she wanted to meet me.

Jo contacted me early this week and told me she would be heading through my area Wednesday and she wanted to take me to dinner. I jumped at the chance. We met at Texas Roadhouse and talked for FOUR hours! We talked with the ease you feel when you have a lot in common with someone. We told stories, asked questions, and laughed the evening away. One particular story tugged at my heart strings and made tears sting my eyes.

When her husband was so ill, Jo’s friends and family kept asking what they could do to help. There were far too many casseroles and plates of cookies already so she decided to start “The Toothbrush Crusade”. You see, even though they had owned and operated a Christian school together for the last twenty years, Jo’s husband was not a believer. So, she asked everyone to pray for her husband’s salvation while they were brushing their teeth. That was around two minutes, at least twice per day that people would be praying for him. I’d love to say her husband was struck by the Holy Spirit and proclaimed his faith before he died, but that isn’t the case. He did tell her he would believe “for her”, but we know that isn’t how it works.

We do not know what goes through the mind in the moments before death. I reassured Jo that, even though we believe, we do not know the mind of God and we are not telepathic. People’s faith is personal and between them and God. She had done everything she could to bring him to Christ. She understands now she has to just wait till she gets there and finds out for herself. My hope is that, in those final moments, he saw a fork in the road and made a choice to move towards the light.

As the evening drew to a close and we ate the last of the dessert we split between us, we proclaimed ourselves as friends for life. Jo and I posed for the obligatory photo to commemorate the occasion, gave a good long hug, and went our separate ways till we meet again. I so enjoyed our time together. The last thing Jo said when she turned to leave was, “Keep doing what you’re doing…you have no idea how much you are helping people.” I quickly replied, “I’m just the transcriptionist. It’s all God’s doing!”

As I got in my truck to head home to Mr. FixIt, I said…”Lord, I always ask you to bring me the words to write and the people on the other side of the screen who need to read them. Thank you, Lord, for showing me they are there.” ❤️

““Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.” “Which ones?” he inquired. Jesus replied, “ ‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’ ””
Matthew 19:17-19 NIV

The Secret to a Good Relationship

Wed, 05 Dec 2018 02:30:43 -0600

“As you grow closer to God, you can’t help but grow closer to each other.”

A young man I barely know came up to me at church the other day. He knew Mr. FixIt and I had just been married. He was quite interested in knowing the secret to a good relationship. He wanted to know how you KNOW you have the right person.

One might not think I know the answers to those questions, given I just entered my fourth marriage. That sounds awful, doesn’t it? Like maybe I don’t know what I’m doing. And, I suppose if you ask my two ex-husbands, they might agree with you. I would counter with a statement: I learned with the loss of each relationship. I learned to examine my own behaviors and contributions, or rather…lack of contribution…in each relationship. I learned about what I DIDN’T want in a relationship.

It doesn’t really benefit you to approach a new relationship with a look backward at what you didn’t like before. It does benefit you to look forward with an attitude of “How can I be the best spouse I can be without losing myself here?” I smiled at the young man and said…”I have the answer for you!”

He looked at me in surprise and payed very close attention.

I held up my hands, fingers and thumbs pressed together forming a triangle.

“Do you see this? This is your relationship. You are here. Your spouse is here.” I pointed to the base of either thumb.

I held up my left hand and said, “See? If you have God in your life, you work towards a good relationship with Him. You not only raise yourself up, but you move forward. The same goes with your spouse.” I held up my right hand to demonstrate.

“When you are married, and you put God first in your relationship, you each raise yourselves higher, but what happens to you individually?”

The young man broke into a huge grin. “You get closer to each other!”

“Yes! That’s exactly right! Do you see how simple that is? There’s no real secret here. Just keep God as the primary focus of your marriage, be the very best partner you can be, try to outlove each other, and He will take care of the rest. It’s nothing more than faith and physics!”

I gave the young man a pat on the back and headed on in to find Mr. FixIt and take my seat beside him as we put God first…this day and all days. ❤️

“He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.”
Proverbs 18:22 NIV

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Tue, 27 Nov 2018 02:30:19 -0600

“My favorite ornament from childhood.”

I heard a mother comforting her child once. The little one was crying about something that had happened earlier. The mother said, “Oh…are you remembering how you were sad earlier?” I loved that. She wasn’t dismissing the child’s feelings and at the same time, she was teaching her “It’s not happening to you now. It’s just a memory.”

As we were decorating the tree yesterday, I was hanging the special ornaments Mr. Virgo and I purchased together. I felt a melancholy come over me. And, as this is what I do, I examined the feelings and let myself feel them. Then I remembered the mother comforting her child and I smiled. The melancholy I felt wasn’t sadness in the moment. It was holding the items we cherished and remembering how sad that first Christmas was after he died.

Grief is quicksilver. It rolls around and shape shifts through time. And, once you get to a certain point, the weight shifts forward. It doesn’t drag you back so hard. When I first started to notice that pattern shift, I didn’t trust it. I’d had far too many instances of stepping on the rake in the tall grass. Once I experienced this new space where grief stays put…at least most of the time…I could start living again and looking forward.

This ornament was my favorite as a little girl. I have several of my mom’s ornaments and I think of the little house on the corner where we lived. I think of the farmhouse where we spent Christmas morning with my grandparents just once or twice that I can remember. We’ll go out to the farm this week and decorate and stay a few days, I think. I don’t dread Christmas anymore. I never understood my great grandfather when he would say, “It’ll stop hurting when the pain goes away.” I always thought that was just a silly thing he said. But, in the context of grief, it makes perfect sense. It DOES stop hurting when the pain goes away. ❤️

“...The minute I said, “I’m slipping, I’m falling,” your love, GOD, took hold and held me fast. When I was upset and beside myself, you calmed me down and cheered me up.”
Psalm 94:16-19 MSG

A Tale of Thanksgiving

Sun, 25 Nov 2018 02:30:59 -0600

“Thanksgiving Turkey”

Multiple trips to the store.

Two turkeys because the frozen one refused to thaw.

Two full days cooking.

A fifteen minute feeding frenzy in which 90% of the food was devoured.

Followed by three hours cleaning the kitchen.

I am thankful for the following things.

Thanksgiving only comes once a year.

And…

Thanksgiving only comes once a year.

❤️

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
Colossians 3:17 NIV

Is Empathy Gone for Good?

Wed, 21 Nov 2018 02:30:24 -0600

“ER Doctor Weeps After Losing 19-year-old Fire Victim”

We have a problem. Ok, we have LOTS of problems, but one of the biggest is a cultural shift away from empathy and respect for human life. I have long held that violence on TV and in movies, as well as video games, has been breeding the art of human kindness right out of the hearts and minds of mankind. And I don’t see it getting any better anytime soon if things stay on the current course.

This photo shows an ER physician in California taking a moment to regain his composure after losing a 19-year old girl. I was married to a doctor. Showing emotion in your interaction with patients is considered highly unprofessional so it’s trained right out of them. It touches my heart to see this image because I understand him.

The other day, I was browsing through my Facebook feed when I saw a video of Barack Obama surprising his wife at one of her book signings. Politics aside, it brought me to tears. Not the act itself, although it was quite special to see a man love his wife so openly. No, what made me cry was the comparison of civility we enjoyed two years ago as compared to what we experience today. I was just “waking up” after three years of foggy grief brain and what I experienced personally was heart wrenching. (I’m not going to step into a political dogfight here…just expressing dismay at so much derision in the world.) I had a flash of what an oppressed people might feel when they no longer enjoy the feelings of safety and freedom they experienced before. It was simultaneously frightening and sad.

You cannot raise a generation of human beings on autopilot, plugging them into electronics, filling their eyes and minds with graphic violence and expect them to come out a well-adjusted, empathetic society. You can’t give them more and more realistic depictions of murder and mayhem with rewards for killing the most and expect healthy minds as a result. Combine this issue with easily accessible drugs and weapons and you have a recipe for the disaster we find ourselves in currently.

Do all people who watch graphic programming and play violent video games become mass killers? Of course not. But it does cause a deterioration of the moral fabric in this country. I know this problem didn’t start with this President. I’m not saying he is to blame. That would be naive and doesn’t look at the whole picture.

What we have in this country is heart disease. I’m not talking cardiac. It doesn’t come from a single source, either. It’s a multifaceted issue stemming from a systematic numbing of the mind. It’s complicated. God. Discipline. Respect. Honor. Work ethic. Inequality. Imbalance of power. Lack of checks and balances. Broken homes. Latch key kids. Low teacher pay. Family values.

I long for people to love each other the way Jesus loves us. And, as long as we hide Him in a closet, it’s never going to happen. So, I do my part as best I can. I shine His light out into the world every day. I pray He expands my territory so that I can shine that light even further.

I pray for this broken world and its broken people. And I look for the helpers. For the ground breakers. The outreachers. The radical lovers. The peace warriors. The light shiners. And the tearful physicians who aren’t afraid to show their emotions. There is always and forever hope for a brighter tomorrow. ❤️

“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”
Ephesians 4:29-32 NIV

Driving Down the Road

Tue, 20 Nov 2018 02:30:21 -0600

“Country roads…take me home!”

Remember this summer when I shared the pictures of how terrible the road was out to the farm? The compressor station back behind the farm is finished. No more heavy trucks hauling super heavy loads out the road and back. It was a long year. They started building the road out to the station site this time last year.

The road had gotten so bad I was really afraid I was going to blow a tire or break an axle or, at the very least, knock my truck out of alignment. I just had to drive really slow and try to dodge the worst parts or come to a complete stop if there was oncoming traffic.

I was told by multiple sources that our road would not be fixed until the routine paving time came up on the schedule. I was also told the county did not negotiate road repairs into the contract with the company building the compressor station. Essentially, I figured good, hard working, lower income West Virginians would get screwed again.

In late summer, a local company came in and cut out large rectangles of mangled asphalt and rebuilt the base. But, they didn’t put anything on top so it was no time before these big rocky rectangles became just as bad as the road was before. Pretty soon, someone else came in and blacktopped over those messy rocky rectangles and I thought, “Good! At least there aren’t deep holes anymore. I can live with this.”

While we were gone on our honeymoon, my cousin’s wife, Charlotte called to give me an update on the kitties. Then she said, “Wait till you see what they’re doing to the road! You won’t believe it!” I rolled my eyes. What now? “They’re paving it!!!”

Sure enough, each time I’ve gone out since the wedding, a little more and a little more was blacktopped and things were finally improving. I went out yesterday and they are not only finished…the lines have been painted and a very nice shoulder has been laid down. If I could have done a jig, I would have…but I was driving.

I didn’t have to yell and scream at a meeting. I didn’t get upset other than grumble under my breath and complain to you all a little bit. I didn’t have to write letters or threaten law suits. I just talked to God whenever I drove over that wretched road and said, “Lord, please place it on the hearts of the people responsible for making this mess to come back here and make it right. This isn’t fair to all these people out this little old road. They work hard and most of them don’t have much. Please make this right.” I have no idea who actually ended up getting this job done, but I am grateful for a good, solid road going out to the farm now.

Prayer works. Even in the most ordinary things. ❤️

“The end of a matter is better than its beginning, and patience is better than pride. Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools.” Ecclesiastes 7:8-9 NIV

Loving What Is

Mon, 19 Nov 2018 02:30:47 -0600

“Snapchat filters make me see the beautiful woman inside. The mirror makes me see the beautiful Child of God that I am on the outside!”

I love my grandkids. I don’t get to see them and interact with them enough. Big is 14. Little is 11. Both are at the age where their interests lie elsewhere. Still, Little and I engage in bouts of “Let’s top each other in Snapchat.” She always wins. She does the cute and funky filters that twist your face up or adds bunny ears and whiskers. I go for glamour shots that take away my wrinkles and gives me the face of a super model. Vain? Not really. More like seeing the woman I feel like.

I’m sixty-five. Even in my primest of prime years, I was never super model material, but I could turn a head or two. I still can, if truth be told. Just ask my new, still-smitten husband. He thinks I’m the most beautiful woman on the planet! And, when I bask in his love-light, I feel even MORE beautiful. Isn’t that lovely?

When I look in the mirror and I see the wrinkles, the graying hair, the sagging skin, the cellulite I realize I am not looking at myself correctly. I am listening to the enemy whisper…”You’ll never be enough.” Instead…I change my focus. And you know how I do that? I listen to Jesus.

Here’s what Jesus tells me.

“You are altogether beautiful, my darling: there is no flaw in you.” (Sol. 4:7)

“You will be a crown of splendor in the LORD’S hand, a royal diadem in the hand of your God.” (Is. 62:3)

“Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.” (Ps. 34:5)

“For we are God’s masterpiece…” (Eph. 2:10)

“…Created to do good works which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Eph. 2:10)

“Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!” (Lu. 1:45)

“God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day.” (Ps. 46:5)

“She is worth far more than rubies.” (Prov.31:10)

“But by the grace of God I am what I am.” (1 Cor. 15:10)

“See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands…” (Is. 49:16)

This is your time. God is within you. You are inscribed on His hands. Did you hear that? On his HANDS! He will fulfill his promises to you. You do your part…believe. Leave the rest up to God. Do you seriously believe the Almighty who created the stars in the sky does not count the hairs on your head? You are precious in His sight. Really.

Now, go out there and hold your head up high on this Monday morning. Smile at that person in the mirror. Need I remind you that you are a beautiful, perfectly imperfect image of God? You are loved. You are cherished. You are coveted. You are protected. You are awesome. There is ONLY ONE YOU.

I know. You may not be feeling it. You may be going through some pretty tough times right now. You may feel discouraged. You may be facing a crisis. You may be battling demons. You may be in the dark throes of grief. God has put it on my heart there is someone out there I need to tell this to so listen carefully. This is not the end of your road. He has a purpose for you that you haven’t even imagined yet. Don’t quit. You cannot fail as long as you do not quit. That miracle might just happen in the next five minutes, so stick with us here. Reach for Jesus’ hand. He will never, ever turn his back on you. He will never leave you. He will never cut you down or say mean, hurtful things to you. He will never make you feel small. He will never make you feel “less than”. He will meet you right where you are and love the stuffin’s out of you. Trust me on this.

You are a child of God. ❤️

“...And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14 NIV

The Comforts of Home

Sun, 18 Nov 2018 02:30:33 -0600

“Knitting, Football, and a Fire…it doesn’t get much better than that!”

I rarely ever sit down and watch a football game with Mr. FixIt. Football never really held my interest till Mr. Virgo patiently explained the game to me. He and I used to watch football all the time. But TV hasn’t been very high on my list of things to do since he died so I usually find something else to occupy me while Mr. FixIt watches…especially his beloved Mountaineers. He’s a diehard WV fan. And, as I found out yesterday…he really is not an Ohio State fan.

Mr. FixIt gets verbal when he watches football. He doesn’t curse and throw things at the TV, but he gets pretty loud. I had a lot of fun knitting yesterday while he cheered. Having a day to stop doing all the fussy work around the house and sit down with a good cup of coffee, something fun to knit, and a warm fire while watching football is a perfect day in my book.

We drove over to the store at halftime to get something to fix for dinner. I was walking through the produce section and thought to myself, “Taco salad sounds great for supper!” I turned to Mr. FixIt and before I could open my mouth and ask him what sounded good, he turned to me and said, “You know, taco salad sounds great for supper.” I had to think for a second. Did I say that out loud? Nope…we are just that attuned to each other. When we were first dating, he texted me one morning and said, “How does that bagel taste?” I nearly choked on said bagel as I read the text.

When we are apart, he texts me within two minutes of my waking up. I asked him one time how he knew I just woke up. He said he can feel it. I love that. I love that deep connection you only get when you truly know someone. When we have had that, and lost it, it’s so easy to tell yourself you will never have that again. I vowed I would never do this again. Not only because I didn’t think anyone would want me, but also because I wasn’t sure I could top Mr. Virgo. That was early on. Now I know better. It’s not a competition. It’s not ever a question of which love is better. Which husband is better. I know a man who was dating sometime after his wife had died. He and the new woman had gotten to “I love you” in their relationship. Then one day she asked him if he loved her more than his late wife. Holy cats!!! What a terrible thing to ask someone. As you may well imagine, that was the end of that.

Lazy Saturdays…one of life’s little pleasures. And, it’s free! ❤️

“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” Ephesians 5:25 NIV

Grief is a Crucible

Sat, 17 Nov 2018 02:30:37 -0600

“Grief is a crucible…you come out entirely changed by the process.”

I was interviewed yesterday for an article for a major financial company. The topic was whether widows find navigating finances difficult in grief. I asked her how long she had to discuss this and suggested she put on a pot of tea. For me, dealing with finances was one of the most difficult aspects of my grief process aside from the fact my husband died. I was terribly unprepared and totally unknowledgeable.

I’m the first to admit I was a spoiled princess. Money was always the source of arguments in my house growing up so that carried over into my marriages. Being the wife of a doctor, money wasn’t really tight. I had a checking account that wasn’t really monitored. What I thought was just “not worrying” turned out to be “highly irresponsible.” Mr. Virgo and I had separate accounts and we both had good jobs. I just didn’t worry about it. I’d ask his opinion. I had a financial advisor but he wasn’t necessarily overly involved. I just left my IRA with him and hoped for the best.

Mr. Virgo often commented that I should find a different advisor because he didn’t think the guy was doing much for me. But, since it was my money from my divorce, he left it to me to make my own decisions. Money talk makes me highly uncomfortable so I decided the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. It was easier to just stay where I was. An ostrich with my head in the sand.

Then the unthinkable happened. You are never prepared entirely. I sure could have been more knowledgeable though. A friend suggested a Christian financial advisor. After meeting with her, I moved my IRA over and started learning about being a responsible steward for the gifts God gave me. This is what the journalist and I discussed during the interview.

We talked about some of the difficult decisions I had to make. Selling the house was major. Getting rid of 95% of my personal belongings and downsizing from a three bedroom house into a thirty foot camper was a challenge. Traveling across the country and trying to help my elderly aunt was difficult. Whenever I am interviewed about the early period of grief, it really strikes me how much territory I have covered since Mr. Virgo died.

The first thing I did when I hung up the phone was text my girlfriends and remind them to have that difficult conversation about end of life decisions. Know where everything is. Have a notebook with all the accounts and passwords. If you go over to my website, there is a link there where you can purchase an excellent book called The LastingMatters Organizer by my friend, Barb Sedoric. I wish I would have had something like this before I so unexpectedly became a widow.

Do you know what a crucible is? When you have raw ore, you place it in a crucible and heat it up to ultra high temperatures. This burns off the impurities and leaves you with something stronger, better, precious. Grief is a crucible that turned my gritty “sand” into colorful glass that reflects the light in a million different directions. It’s not till I’m forced to turn around and look that I can see how far I’ve come. ❤️

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:2 NIV

The Art of Giving

Thu, 15 Nov 2018 02:30:37 -0600

“Shopping for warm blankets with my small group.”

I love this time of year. However, the first Christmas after Mr. Virgo died, I was so incredibly lost. I went to Denver to be with my family because I couldn’t bear to be alone. I think that’s pretty common among those who have lost a spouse.

The holidays were so special to my late husband. He lived for Christmas especially. He planned all year. He paid attention to what I needed or wanted and he was incredibly generous with gifts…too much so, really. But it gave him such joy to see the look on my face when I opened something from him. He just wanted to keep seeing that look.

That first lonely Christmas, one of the layers of the onion peeled back and revealed my days of receiving his well thought out gifts were over and it was just another beautiful thing torn from my life. I was bereft. I wanted something special from him, and since that was impossible, I decided to do something special for me.

I was driving down a busy Denver street the week before Christmas when I felt the gentle nudge of the Holy Spirit.

“There…go there.”

I looked to the right and it was Walmart. I dutifully turned in and parked. As I was walking in, I heard….

“Pay it forward.”

I went to the layaway desk and inquired how I could pay off someone’s layaway. Unfortunately, they had called in the layaways the week before so whatever hadn’t been paid for was returned to the shelves. Not to be deterred, I went to the ATM, withdrew some money, bought a card, and sat down to write a note in it. I told the recipient about this gentle man who loved Christmas and the joy of giving. I told whoever was going to receive this that I was giving them what he would have given me. Then I sat down on the bench at the front of the store and waited for the next instructions.

“Go back there. To the left…you’ll find them there.”

I headed for the back left and found the toy department. I wandered around and saw several shoppers but none stood out. I went around the corner of an aisle and there they were. A young mom and dad. They pulled a toy from the shelf, looking hopeful. Then they looked for the price, looked at each other, looked defeated, and put it back. They did this several times as they moved slowly down the aisle. There was very little in their cart.

I roamed back and forth, acting like I was very interested in something, but all the while trying to listen without being too obvious. What I wanted was for the woman to wander away from her bag for a moment so I could slip the envelope in and be on my way with the young couple none the wiser. She was a smart girl…she never left her bag for a moment. Finally, I decided I just had to move forward or I was going to look like a crazy stalker.

I walked up to the woman and said, “Here. I think this is yours.” I handed her the envelope with the bills stuffed inside. She was puzzled. She looked up from the envelope and our eyes met. I smiled warmly, pulled her to me in a mom hug, and whispered, “Merry Christmas.” Then, before she could let it register, I turned on my heel and walked away straight out of the store, without looking back.

I got to the car and my knees were shaking. I would have loved to have seen her face. But then she would have wanted to thank me or maybe even refuse the gift. Neither of which I wanted. I put the car in gear and headed to meet my family knowing I had shared something special with someone who needed it. I remember when I was a poor, single mom…trying to do the best for my own little one with very, very little resources. It felt good to give.

The church I attend is huge, so in order to have that sense of a “church family”, we have small groups that meet for several weeks per session. The group I belong to has such amazing, strong Christian women. We are in a chat group and we offer prayers and support to each other as we share and learn and grow in the Lord.

This year, our Pastor challenged the groups to find a service project and complete it by the end of the session. We couldn’t decide on just one so we supported two. The Women’s Care Center and the Mission for the homeless. Last night we met at a discount store in town and loaded three shopping carts full to overflowing. We bought children’s clothes, long john’s, hats, and 20 blankets and wheeled our purchases to the foyer. There, we stood around the carts and placed our hands on the bounty and prayed…out loud, in the store, in front of God and everybody. We asked for God to bless these items that they would doubly warm the recipients. We asked that they feel God’s love for them when they wrap themselves in the blankets. Then we headed for the mission.

“The bounty!”

When we came in, laden with bag after bag of stuff, the man behind the desk said, “What have we here?”

“Blankets! From The Warehouse Church!!!” We said, in unison.

“Oh, my gosh…that’s exactly what we needed. I ran out of blankets this evening!”

I smiled. I kinda felt Mr. Virgo grinning…poking me in the ribs.

“See, babydoll! That’s what I’m talkin’ about. It’s better to give than to receive. Giving is an art form.”

Yes…I do love this time of year. ❤️

“Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. As it is written: “They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor; their righteousness endures forever.”” 2 Corinthians 9:7-9 NIV

Pennies from Heaven

Tue, 13 Nov 2018 02:30:10 -0600

“Found pennies…is it God reminding us to trust him?”

How many of you seem to find an inordinate number of coins since your person died? Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve found coins…sometimes every day…sometimes several times a day. You’ve all heard “See a penny, pick it up. All the day you’ll have good luck!” When you marry in England, you wear “something borrowed, something blue, a lucky sixpence in your shoe.”

Mr. FixIt and I found a penny one time that had the shape of a cross cut out of it. That was quite the find! Since Mr. Virgo died, I’ve found more and more coins. I’ve been told they are “angel pennies”…placed in your path to let you know your loved one is thinking of you. I don’t know if that is the case, but it’s a sweet sentiment.

When I pick up any coin, I turn it heads up and read what is stamped along the edge. “In God We Trust”. I read this and smile. It’s like God is sending me a little reminder…”Trust in me. Stop worrying about whatever is rumbling around in that brain of yours and place your trust where it belongs.” I put the angel pennies I find in special places…my night stand, the dash in my truck, the pocket of my coat or jeans. These found coins continue to remind me as I come and go to remember who’s got my back. Who loves me more than all others. Who has saved me.

My guess is…you will never look at a penny the same again. And you just might find yourself seeing more and more of them. ❤️

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.” Matthew 10:29 NIV

Remaining Hopeful in a Hopeless World

Fri, 09 Nov 2018 02:30:21 -0600

“When the news is on fire, how do you stay hopeful?”

We awoke yesterday to the news of yet another mass shooting. We are only three days out from another season of hateful politics. Glaciers are melting and species are disappearing. Computers can generate images that are easily passed off as truth. China just released the first AI news anchor. There will come a time when we won’t be able to tell what’s real and what isn’t. There’s so much death and destruction, murder and mayhem, and just pure evil in this world. How do you remain hopeful in a world like this?

I was reading some comments yesterday on a news post. One after another, people expressed hopelessness. I just read that a college student was supposed to go to the place in Thousand Oaks but she had homework. As a child, she went to a school in Colorado where a gunman broke in, took hostages, and eventually killed a girl then himself. She asked her mother why death followed her so much. There were people at the dance hall who had been at the concert in Vegas that was attacked. How on earth do you remain hopeful in circumstances like this?

Compound all this with grief and it is SO easy to become hopeless. To succumb to sadness and depression. I mean, here I am…the perennial cheerleader…the veritable Pollyanna, as Mr. Virgo called me. I’m weary of all this negativity. It’s beyond negative. It’s evil.

I can’t just stick my head in the sand. I can’t stick my fingers in my ears and yell “LA LA LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” I can’t cover my eyes and pretend I don’t see what’s going on. That isn’t productive. It isn’t healthy. And it’s not realistic. Granted, I don’t watch TV so one might say I am practicing avoidance. I say I’m being selective. I choose my media outlet based on who I feel gives the most fair and unbiased news reporting. I cross check sources and references. I Google things I am skeptical about. I practice critical thinking. En masse. It’s tedious. It’s time consuming. But it’s the only way I can keep my senses from being barraged and eventually overwhelmed.

I look at the world through the lens of my faith. I am a Christian. And I am a Liberal Democrat. I have not looked up the statistics, but I am sure I am in the minority…looked at distrustfully by both sides. And therein lies the problem. Sides. Division. US against THEM. Divisiveness is encouraged. Chaos is a smokescreen. The enemy is very, very busy now.

When I find myself feeling mired down by all the hatred in the world, I remind myself…I’ve read the Book. I know how this story ends. The light prevails over darkness. Faith, hope, and love. God tells us love is everything. It is behind every commandment. We are to love God with every ounce of strength we have. And, we are to love our fellow man as we love ourselves.

The enemy whispers doubts and delusions. Yes. There are evil things happening. Yes, there is darkness all around. But, I can put light out there. I can find ways to bring God’s light into the world. I can carry the love of Jesus in my heart and let Him shine through my thoughts and actions. And if I can do that, others can do that. The enemy wants me to believe I am the only one trying to make the world a better place. He says things like, “Why are you even bothering?” He is whispering lies meant to break me, to discourage me. But I won’t be discouraged. I’ll WALK STRONG as long as there is a breath in me. I will always look up. I will seek God’s face. I will ask for his comfort and guidance. I will pray for discernment to show me what is true and what is not. But most of all, I will trust Him. Because of His promises to me. He has never, EVER failed me. And that, my friends, is how I remain hopeful in this fallen world. ❤️

“If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head, and the Lord will reward you.” Proverbs 25:21-22 NIV

Living in a Small Town in the Hills

Tue, 06 Nov 2018 02:30:49 -0600

“The colors are a bit past their prime, but still lovely.”

I am from West Virginia originally. I was raised about 30 miles from where I’m standing at this moment. My grandparents’ farm is 22 miles away. Both much shorter “as the crow flies”. I left here when I was nineteen years old and lived first in England for two years then Colorado for forty. It wasn’t until Mr. Virgo died that I headed back to my roots in these beautiful hills.

My first year was spent out at the farm on seventy-four acres. You talk about quiet and peaceful. Other than the oil and gas traffic on the road, it’s dead out there. The little store closed this summer. The only thing open now is the tiny post office.

“Fall decor lines the driveway.”

I remember when I was married to Hubby #2, the doctor. I lived a different life then than anything my family could even approach experiencing in terms of finances and the ability to experience travel. I was talking with one of my high school sister/friends one night and apparently I was acting in a way which warranted a dressing down. She reminded me, in no uncertain terms, where I started out in life and not to be so snooty. She was absolutely right. I had gotten a tad big for my britches.

Widowhood changed me in many ways…not the least of which was living a small, quiet life in a camper with only 5% of my belongings dragged with me. Moving to the farm was a continuation of the much simpler, more humble, and highly satisfying life I have come to know since my return to my roots. And now, I’ve married into this sweet little town I’ve come to love.

I went to the Post Office yesterday to pick up the mail held for us. As I stood in line, the two women at the front wrapped up a conversation as the clerk called her name.

“I hope we run into each other again real soon!”

“”Well, lets just plan on lunch so we don’t have to leave it to chance!”

“That’s great!”

Hugs.

“You tell your mama hey for me, will ya’?”

“Sure will!”

My heart smiled. I picked up my mail and headed to the local mom and pop grocery store. I was standing at the meat counter waiting for the gal to weigh out my two pounds of fresh ground hamburger and slice the Colby Longhorn cheese I’m so fond of. An older woman came up to the counter, walking gingerly.

“Whoooo-ooooo! Honey, it’s gonna rain tomorrow. I can guarantee it. My joints are hurtin’ me somthin’ awful today. I tell my son, I say…’Boy…don’t you go huntin’ tomorrow ‘cause it’s gonna rain!’ He listens. He’s a good boy.”

My heart smiled even bigger.

The gentleman from behind the meat counter went up to run the second register during the “big rush” at 4:00. He’s one of two brothers who own the store.

“How have you been doing today?” He reminds me of a preacher. Clean cut, kind to a fault.

“Great! We just got home from our honeymoon last night!” I said.

“Wonderful, wonderful! And where did you go?” His smile was warm and engaging.

I told him we started out with the WVU - Baylor game then headed to Colonial Williamsburg and on to the beach.

“Oh, I remember a trip to Williamsburg when I was in Junior High. What a beautiful place that is. And what beach did you go to?”

“We went to Salvo and got a beach house.”

“Oh, that’s just fine. I’m so happy for you!” He didn’t miss a beat as he continued to check me out, take my payment, and sack up my purchase. The only thing missing was an apron and a garter on his sleeve….maybe sawdust on the floor, penny candy and pickles in barrels by the door.

I do so love living in a small town. I am not lacking for anything. This is the life I’ve wanted for at least the last thirty-five years. I was telling Mr. FixIt last night what all I would have wanted to do had we married at 35 instead of 65. I would have had chickens…goats…rabbits…and a barn. Maybe a milk cow. There would have been barn cats and a trusty dog.

There are five beautiful, flat acres here…plenty of room to have that hobby farm I always dreamed of. I think I’m past all that now. Oh, I could still do most of that, but it doesn’t make a bit of sense to invest a bunch of money in fencing and structures at our age. We have different interests now…like, traveling, camping, and not being tied down by animals.

“The neighbor came and brush hogged the back acre.”

No, this life is perfect just the way it is. Our tractor was delivered today after getting warranty repairs. They just don’t make things like they used to. The guy that brought it out to the Ponderosa showed us how cheaply the wheel sprockets are made. He says they have replaced a lot of them. I went out in the field and mulched most of the leaves that fell in that section. Mr. FixIt lined all the pumpkins and gourds from the wedding all along the driveway. The mums in the backyard are already well past their prime. The leaves are still brightly colored but we are rapidly hitting “past peak” status.

We are already making plans for Thanksgiving and before you know it, Christmas will be here, as well. Even though our lives have a tendency to get busy and hectic, especially in mowing season, there is plenty of downtime to reflect on our many blessings. I hope you all are having a wonderful day! ❤️

“Then God said, “Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.” And it was so.” Genesis 1:11 NIV

Photographic Memories

Wed, 31 Oct 2018 01:30:08 -0600

“Fishing on the OBX”

Mr. Virgo was quite the photographer. He left me with so many beautiful photos that he took of wildlife. Not to mention so many of the beautiful places we visited together. I cherish those. I really have so few photos of him. It seems he was always the one behind the lens.

It reminds me of a morning shortly after we were married. I was in the bathroom getting ready for the day. My hair was a mess, I hadn’t brushed my teeth or washed my face. I was just standing there looking at my reflection in the mirror…white robe tucked around me, half-lidded eyes, in desperate need for coffee. The house was still. I wondered where he was, when…..click.

He looked up from the viewfinder with such a sweet smile on his face when I whirled around…fire in my eyes. I gave him a short “OMGosh! What are you doing? I’m a mess!” I immediately regretted that when I saw the crestfallen look on his face…the hurt in his eyes.

He rarely took photos of me after that. And certainly not impromptu, candid shots that I wasn’t prepared for. It wasn’t till he was gone that I realized it went so much deeper than just snapping a photo.

He thought I was beautiful.

He saw my beauty when all I could see were flaws. I denied him the pleasure of capturing something he loved to see. Of doing something he loved to do.

I learned from that. I’ve learned that if my sweet Mr. FixIt turns the camera in my direction I won’t care what I look like because he sees something I have learned to see for myself these last five or so years. He sees the lines on my face that mean I have had so many opportunities in my life to smile. He sees depth in my eyes that comes from love and loss. He sees silver in my hair that says I’m a wiser woman than I was with Mr. Virgo.

Please don’t fuss when someone wants to take your picture. They want to capture what THEY see…what THEY want to remember about you. Let them. Give them that gift. Unless you’re doing a photo shoot for Vogue, which I very much doubt, what harm is there in messy hair or bleary eyes? They see you through the soft lens of love. What a beautiful thing is that? ❤️

“You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.” The Song of Solomon 4:7 ESV

Stress + Tired = Attitude

Wed, 24 Oct 2018 01:30:21 -0600

“The tongue can wreak havoc in any relationship.”

What do you get when you mix two tired people working hard to meet a deadline? Well, sometimes you get a snarky remark and an even snarkier comeback. Neither of which are constructive or useful. How many times have I written that the tongue can wreak havoc in a relationship? Yet, there I was…Queen of the Snarky Retort.

I knew right away I didn’t speak life into the situation. And I immediately went to Mr. FixIt and apologized. Sincerely.

While this has been a wonderful time with the wedding and all, it’s also been stressful trying to get everything done and we are both desperately looking forward to our time away.

It’s perfectly normal to have moments of frustration when you’re living in close proximity with another human. How you deal with differences says a lot in how successful your relationship will be. Admitting your weaknesses, asking forgiveness, and praying for guidance goes a long way toward maintaining harmony in the home. If you fight, you need to fight fair.

Mr. FixIt is an extremely easygoing man. He has been understanding when I write every night. He’s a TV watcher. I am a writer. We do our own thing after dinner and reconnect later. That being said, we are about to embark on our honeymoon. And as much as I love you all, and as much as writing is the same as breathing for me, I’ve decided y’all are just going to have to sit this one out. I’m going to schedule a scripture to post everyday while we are gone so you have something to ponder. Please feel free to talk amongst yourselves here on my blog. I love when you all interact and support one another.

I’ll be back on Election Day! ❤️

“In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,” Ephesians 4:26 NIV

Be a Way Maker

Mon, 22 Oct 2018 01:30:14 -0600

“These boots are made to make a way.”

My new husband and I laughed when the name of yesterday’s sermon flashed on the large screen behind Pastor Justin. “The Honeymoon is Over!” Our knowing glance at each other said, “Oh, if he only knew!”

The pastor’s message was actually quite timely. The Warehouse Church was founded a little over three years ago with just 127 people. Here we are now with around 1500 people who attend regularly. The numbers fluctuate continually as some people leave and others come.

It’s just like any relationship. Those things that attracted you and caused great excitement early on eventually become irritating thorns in your side. You become critical of the very thing that brought you joy in the first place. The same can happen in a church. If you go to church to occupy a seat and be spoon fed a message, you are missing the message entirely. If you are there for the entertainment factor, you are missing a wonderful opportunity to be more Christ-like.

Jesus didn’t walk around pounding his message into people. He was there to make a way for others to reach God and experience salvation. He didn’t gather holy men around him to sing His praises. He gathered the misfits and misunderstood around him and challenged them to go out into the world and reach more, and more, and more.

I left the church at the ripe old age of seven because of a Bible-thumping preacher who screamed and jumped up and down trying to scare me into finding Jesus by promising Hell and eternal damnation. I actually came to be saved through a loving couple who made a way for me to walk in a relationship with Jesus. I was lured with love, not fear.

I want to be a Way Maker. I want to be that friend that invites you to find the same joy I have found in my salvation. I want to walk along side you so that some day you to might have this same relationship with a God who loves you and only wants to draw you near Him. Then, you may, come in, be saved, learn to serve, and go out and invite, and offer a hand, and invite someone in who might be saved and learn to serve, and who will go out and invite and offer a hand and….

You get the picture? It’s love that changes lives. Not force-feeding and fear. Our church accepts you no matter where you are on your path. We don’t care what you look like, who you are, how you smell, what you are doing, how you are living, or where you’ve been.

You may feel there is no way for you. But God makes a way when there is no way. And He uses us to be His hands and feet on the ground. I’m here and I’m willing. These boots were made for walkin’ and I’ve got miles to go and people to meet. ❤️

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:19 NIV

Live a Good Life

Sun, 21 Oct 2018 01:30:04 -0600

“Live a Good Life”

When we were decorating the tent for the wedding, I went around the house, the buildings, and the farm looking for decor I could use. There was so much more I could have put out there, but frankly, I realized we were just going to have to haul it all back into the house afterwards. I decided to just keep it simple.

I was standing in the kitchen giving some last minute directions to my wonderful friend, Charlotte, when I looked up above the kitchen sink and saw this sign. I took it down and handed it to Mr. FixIt and said, “This goes out by the front of the tent to greet our guests!” It’s our daily reminder to “Live a Good Life.”

This has been the busiest, jam packed week we have had since we started dating. So much has happened, I’ve really just started processing it all. Aside from the changes that come with marriage, and the death of a dear family member, something else has been rattling around in my head wanting attention.

It wasn’t so much what WAS there. It was more…what WASN’T there. Namely, that dogged undercurrent of grief that has simmered just beneath the surface of my life for the last 2,049 days. I know grief is not something you “get over”. I know it’s something you “get through”. It is something you learn to walk around without falling into that giant hole in your heart. It is something you learn to deal with in time. I honestly had no idea it would change with the commitment of another marriage.

It seems the act of marrying has caused a…shift in the force, so to speak. Maybe it’s the high of the wedding itself, but I don’t think so. Maybe it’s a gift from God for being obedient. Maybe it’s a natural progression of things when significant life changes occur. Maybe it’s just the Evolution of Grief.

When there are significant milestones in life, like your child’s wedding, or the birth of a grandchild, and your person isn’t there, it causes their death to come front and center. You think about how much he would have loved to see that. How much your son or daughter misses their dad. How your grandchild will never know that grandparent. It reminds you of an emptiness.

That was totally missing last weekend.

Oh, I thought of Mr. Virgo that day. Of course I did. I even had a quiet moment before the wedding when I silently thanked him for having been in my life. However, I wouldn’t have been getting married that day if he were still alive. And, I love Mr. FixIt SO much. I can’t imagine my life without him. It wasn’t like I had to say to myself, “Don’t think of Mr. Virgo!” He just…wasn’t there.

That kind of surprised me, actually. Because, like I said, I honestly didn’t know what to expect. It’s never occurred to me to ask other widows who have remarried how it affected their grief. So, like I’ve done from the beginning, I feel what I feel and I write about it. The feeling has persisted all week. Mr. Virgo is still here, but he’s standing much further away. Because…just as I stepped out the door to walk across the field and marry my sweet Mr. FixIt, I looked up and told Mr. Virgo…”Don’t worry about me now. I’ve got this!” ❤️

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6 NIV

A Beautiful Day

Fri, 19 Oct 2018 01:30:08 -0600

“On our way home yesterday, I caught a glimpse of the wind turbines atop a ridge near Elkins. It was an incredibly beautiful day.”

The last two days were perfectly beautiful in the mountains of West Virginia. We left home around 11:00am Wednesday and got to our motel room an hour before the viewing. We hadn’t eaten since early so we went looking for something to eat after the viewing. You have three choices in the little, tiny town of Petersburg…Subway, Pizza Hut, and McDonald’s. We drove fifteen miles to Moorefield, hoping for a restaurant but found nothing we were willing to try. We we ended up buying some sandwich fixings at Food Lion and had a picnic back at the room.

There was no cell service and no WiFi at the motel which was fine by me. I wrote and scheduled Wednesday’s and Thursday’s posts Tuesday night in anticipation of being off the grid. It was really chilly when we got back to the room so I took a hot bath, bundled up, and got under the blankets and caught up with a week’s worth of devotionals. There were four channels on the TV so we turned it off and fell sound asleep by 9:30! Unheard of for us.

The funeral was yesterday at 11:00am. It was a very nice service. They played some songs…Elvis singing Amazing Grace…One Day at a Time. And one other I’ll share with you here.

Theirs was a love story, through and through. My uncle told me the first time he set eyes on my aunt, he was smitten. There was a lot going on in 1956. My Uncle Sonny was killed in a plane crash in 1955. Not long after, my Aunt Rosie got married. So, Uncle Dudley and Aunt Viv decided to elope to Oakland, Maryland and get married…in the same place my grandma and grandpa eloped to. Well, when they came home and told everyone…let’s just say, grandma wasn’t very happy about it. She loved Aunt Viv. She just wanted a wedding.

That was the start of 62 years of devotion. I remember their love as being full of fun and laughter and playfulness. I sat behind him at the funeral and when they played this song, he bowed his head. His shoulders shook slightly from his silent tears. The only other time I remember him crying was when I called to tell him Mr. Virgo died. It broke my heart.

As they played “Love, Me” by Colin Raye, I listened to the lyrics and realized the song was about their love. And I cried along with him. For broken hearts. For lost loves.

The funeral procession wound its way through the hills and countryside till the terrain opened into an expansive valley. We turned left and climbed the hill to the tent that was erected over her grave. My uncle had just purchased these plots last week. They had decided over the years they really didn’t like the cemetery where they had purchased plots years ago but they just hadn’t gotten around to getting the new ones. Oh, my! The view was absolutely stunning. My aunt rests high on a hillside overlooking magnificent farmland. Black angus cattle dot the landscape in the verdant green fields. The hardwoods of the forests surrounding the valley were just beginning to hint of the glorious burst of color coming in the next two weeks.

Afterwards, we gathered at the fellowship hall at the church and had one of those wonderful meals country church women fix after a funeral. Hearty, comfort food and lots of love flowed around those tables and we left reminded we are family. Our bonds run as deep as the cool springs in these Appalachian hills. The blood of our shared ancestors keep us connected far beyond the pages of Facebook. We promised to keep in touch with those we seldom see. We promised to bring something special to this year’s Thanksgiving dinner.

Mr. FixIt and I drove quietly through the hills, holding hands…our minds no doubt remembering we aren’t newlyweds at 25 and 26. We are newlyweds at 65 and 66. Our time together won’t be 62 years…but what time we DO have will be filled with fun and laughter and playfulness…just like my aunt and uncle’s marriage. I’m grateful for their example. I’m grateful for the opportunity to love like them. I’m just grateful for every day.

youtu.be/arzlGTw8v…

❤️

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth.”

2 Timothy 2:15 NIV

Here Comes the Bride

Wed, 17 Oct 2018 01:30:13 -0600

“One of my favorite moments…locking eyes with a fellow widow whom I mentored…knowing we BOTH have found our second-chance loves.”

It all went so fast. Here we are, just a few days after the wedding and I don’t remember all the details. That happens to every bride, I think. You throw so much into the planning, and so many last minute details happen the day of the wedding. Friends and family came at 2:00 to help me get ready. The ceremony was at 4:00. The girls were still messing with my hair when I asked the time. 3:20! I still hadn’t put on make up or dressed!

I don’t wear a lot of make up ordinarily…and when I do, it’s not much. Throwing that on was no big deal. I slipped on my boots and my new daughter and granddaughter helped me into my dress. In no time at all, I was ready. The music wasn’t. I told them I didn’t care…I’d walk out singing “Here Comes the Bride” if I had to…I was ready….REALLY ready!

They helped me out to the tent…one carrying my train…the other hoping for the music to start. And, it did! Just as I got to the tent, I looked up and there was my sweet friend, Deneene. She was one of what looked like a whole sea of smiles and cell phones pointed at me. I looked at her with a knowing smile. You see, Deneene was referred to me when she was a relatively new widow herself. I was a couple of years ahead of her. I mentored her for the next couple of years. I was for her what I wished I’d had. Someone who had recently walked the path and could relate. Someone who could say this is perfectly normal. Someone to hold out a hand…not to pat it, but to offer a lift up. Then, Deneene met HER new love. And we walked this new territory together. She caught that knowing look in this picture. I think it is one of my favorites. Because I’m looking at another widow in love. I’m looking at my friend that helped me as much as I helped her. I’m looking at hope and joy and strength and perseverance and courage and reflecting it all back.

We all are nothing more than the sum of our life experiences. I was ready to marry…every time I married. But I didn’t know then what I know now. Now I know what love is. I know how fragile life is. I know how to face the unimaginable and still live. I know how to live alone when it’s impossible to breathe. I know how rare it is to find someone so incredibly compatible. I know SO much more than I knew when I married Mr. Virgo. This man, this love, this marriage will reap the benefits of that knowledge and experience. I am so grateful to be where I am today. It is only through God’s grace and love that I found my way through the darkness. There may still be darkness ahead…but now there is hope. ❤️

“And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.”

1 Peter 5:10-11 NIV

The Harder Side of Love

Tue, 16 Oct 2018 01:30:19 -0600

“This is what true love looks like.”

“Love bears all things [regardless of what comes], believes all things [looking for the best in each one], hopes all things [remaining steadfast during difficult times], endures all things [without weakening].” 1 CORINTHIANS 13:7 AMP

I received a call Sunday that my sweet Aunt Viv crossed over to meet our Lord. Aunt Viv has always had a heart of gold. I remember her holding Daughter #2 on her lap and singing “Jesus Loves Me” to her when she was just a bitty thing.

Aunt Viv met my Uncle “Dudley” when they were in high school. She was a majorette. He was on the football team. They both had excellent role models growing up and their marriage was built to last. Like my grandparents, my aunt and uncle sit beside each other and hold hands. It’s precious to see.

As Aunt Viv slid further and further into dementia, I encouraged my uncle to at least consider respite care so he could get some sleep. The last two years have been terribly difficult and he often went for days on very little sleep. They did finally get some help in the form of home health care, but he pooh-poohed the idea of placing his sweetheart somewhere other than the home they built together.

The other night I was having my quiet meditation time. I read my devotionals and had a quiet conversation with God.

“Lord, I am about to be married again. There were times in my past marriages when I wasn’t very good to my husband. Can you help me be a better wife? Can you show me what that means?”

Immediately this picture popped into my head and I went through my phone to find it. Suddenly, I had this brilliant insight. Here I was, encouraging my uncle to send his beloved wife away when God was using him to show us all what true, Godly love looks like. He was showing us what “in sickness and in health” really means. I was humbled and ashamed. I immediately wanted to hug my sweet uncle and thank him for being the excellent role model he was and to apologize for ever speaking to him in such a way. What an amazing, strong man.

This is not to say there is anything wrong with people who make the difficult choice to put their loved one in a nursing home. Everyone has their own beliefs and abilities and no one should ever be made to feel guilty for having made that decision. It takes a lot out of a person to do what my uncle has done. I hate that he is so worn down. But I love that he stuck by his bride and held her hand for sixty-two years…right to the end. I think there will be an extra star in his crown when he joins her one day. ❤️

Introducing....Mr. & Mrs. FixIt

Sun, 14 Oct 2018 01:30:41 -0600

“Introducing Mr. and Mrs. FixIt!”

Oh my, what a perfect day!!! I prayed it wouldn’t be too hot. It didn’t break 50 degrees even though the last two weeks have been in the high eighties. I prayed there wouldn’t be bugs. It was cool to the point of being downright brisk so…no bugs!!! I prayed the pulled pork would be moist. It was succulent and juicy. There was a small hiccup with the music but just when I decided to walk in unaccompanied, it kicked in. It didn’t rain…or snow. My hair cooperated. It truly was a perfect day!

When I asked Mr. FixIt what his favorite part of the wedding was, he said “When I saw you walking toward me.” I know this is true because when I got up to him he just looked and me and said, “Whoa!” Everyone laughed and I knew…this was as close to the perfect moment we may ever get when we are on this earth. And now, as I’m writing this, I realize how exhausted I am. I have a kitchen full of things needing cleaned. But, I have really great cake and pulled pork leftovers.

Really. Perfect. Day. ❤️

“Even more than all this, clothe yourself in love. Love is what holds you all together in perfect unity.”

Colossians 3:14 NCV

Sparkles and Sunshine

Sat, 13 Oct 2018 01:30:02 -0600

“My fancy earrings from Daughter #2…perfect for the wedding!”

“Always be humble, gentle, and patient, accepting each other in love. You are joined together with peace through the Spirit, so make every effort to continue together in this way.” Ephesians 4:2-3 NCV

Our good friends, Dianne and Bobby came over to the Ponderosa yesterday and helped us decorate the tent for the wedding. We moved the forty bails of hay and made rows of seating. We strung five hundred white twinkle lights above. We set up the serving tables and hung the cross at the front. We have the extra bales out front and I finally found a use for these two pieces of rustic decorative fencing I’ve had for years. The quilts are all in plastic tubs to keep from gathering moisture. The pulled pork goes in a slow oven in the morning and the fried chicken goes in the smoker to heat up.

The soft drinks and water are already in the big galvanized washtubs chilling outdoors overnight and ice will be added in the afternoon. My sweet friend Deneene came from South Carolina and arrived at 4:30. We went to town to fill up two big propane tanks for TOW-Wanda because I ran out of propane in the middle of the night. It was REALLY cold by morning! We dropped the tanks back off at the Ponderosa then we went to the farm to get Mr. FixIt’s white dinner jacket. As I was leaving I saw my mom’s quilt peeking out from under a stack of linens and grabbed it. I also brought the big box of fireworks we bought for the wedding.

And now, the day is here. I found a bag with a bunch of jewelry in it when I was at the farm yesterday. Last night I was showing my friend Deneene something in the bag and ran across these earrings. Daughter #2 bought me these for Christmas many years ago. I never had an occasion to wear time so they have been tucked away in a safe place…just waiting for the most special occasion. I sent my daughter this picture and asked if she remembered these. I told her I finally have a special occasion to wear them. You’re supposed to have something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I haven’t borrowed anything yet, but the center stone in these earrings is the palest ice blue topaz, they’re old in that I’ve had them for years and they’re new in that I have never worn them. My daughter said that made her all fuzzy inside. I wish my girls could be here. But we will celebrate when we get to Colorado next.

Today! TODAY!!! I’m marrying my best friend today. The sweetest man on the planet. I’ve never been more ready, more prepared.

“Thank you, Jesus…for every gift, every blessing, every friend and family member. Bless those who cannot join us today. Bless my cousin Tom and his wife Suzy as he fights the ravages of mesothelioma. Bless my Uncle Bud and cousins as they sit with their wife and mother as she inches toward her final journey home. And Bless all these wonderful people who come here to read about how You impact my life. Lord, thank you for the gift of love from Mr. Virgo. Thank you for letting lightning strike twice and bringing me Mr FixIt. This is a love affair for the ages!

And, as always…To God be the Glory.

Amen”

❤️

The Side Effects of Obedience

Fri, 12 Oct 2018 01:30:03 -0600

“Sunset over the Ponderosa.”

“And love means living the way God commanded us to live. As you have heard from the beginning, his command is this: Live a life of love.” 2 John 1:6 NCV

I went to small group from church last night. We have a fall series and a spring series of meetings. There are different groups to fill different needs and we are all encouraged to join a small group. In a huge church, it’s difficult to feel a bond with individual members of the church family. Small group gives us the chance to make friends, learn from God’s Word, and experience fellowship. I love the gals in my small group. We always have great discussions and we always share praises and prayers at the end.

It’s been four weeks since Mr. FixIt and I decided to get married and set the date. Four weeks since I made the decision to live separately from him till the wedding. Even though I came back to the Ponderosa last week, I’ve been staying in TOW-Wanda. I was chatting with the gals at small group about it and got to thinking on the drive home about how this exercise has changed me.

First…I just FEEL different. It’s hard to describe. I feel honorable. Obedient. Peaceful. Good…in that good way you feel when you have done the right thing. It wasn’t easy. And it wasn’t necessarily comfortable. Some didn’t understand why I was doing this. That offered me the opportunity to share. I’ve had the opportunity to pray with others over this. I have even been an example to one woman who had a thought then heard my testimony and realized God was answering her question.

Sometimes the decision to be obedient to God has as much to do with the people in your path as it does to you yourself. God orchestrates our lives and places us where He needs us. We miss the opportunity to experience the blessings from that if we choose to ignore the prodding, the poking, the whispering of the Holy Spirit. I’m really glad I’ve done this. It has given our wedding a new depth and meaning.

The whole time I lived here before this, Mr. FixIt always talked about this being “our house”. And, while we did make some changes and redecorated, try as I might…I couldn’t get past considering it HIS house. Now, one of the side effects of my obedience is seeing this place as our home. Not HIS house…our HOME. Big difference.

Yesterday was rainy and we just did some things around the house. I picked up my wedding band from the jeweler. It is purposefully different. When I tried it on, my mind flashed back to my last wedding band. I smiled.

Mr. FixIt shampooed carpets. I took the pulled pork out of the freezer and put it into the fridge in the garage to thaw. We sat down and made some lists. We have friends coming today to help decorate the tent and whatever else we need to do. Mr. FixIt will go to town and pick up some food items we need for the reception. I have to run to the farm because we left his white dinner jacket out there.

We are organized. We are (fairly) rested and relaxed. And, we are SO excited!

OMGosh! You guys….TOMORROW!!!!! ❤️

Thanking God

Thu, 11 Oct 2018 01:30:34 -0600

“The wedding tent!”

“Everything God made is waiting with excitement for God to show his children’s glory completely.” Romans 8:19 NCV

I hadn’t even had my coffee yesterday morning when I heard the diesel dually pull into the driveway just beyond TOW-Wanda’s door. I felt a thrill in my veins.

“They’re here!” I thought. “The tent men are here.”

Sure enough, two guys in a pickup with a great big tent rolled up in the back were waiting for directions as to where to erect said structure. I walked out in the field and showed him the site Mr. FixIt and I had chosen the night before. I want the tent positioned so people turning in from the main road will have a straight on view.

It wasn’t 30 minutes and they had the tent up. They forgot to bring the sides to protect from the rain, so the owner of the tent company brought them later. I was thrilled to see him. You see, Andy grew up two houses from me. I am ten years older than him but I remember him as a little boy. His dad used to have a little carnival and concession business that turned into a tent rental enterprise. When I was a little girl, Andy’s dad used to store his carnival rides in the yard behind their house. He had a cotton candy machine on the back porch. Sometimes he would start it up and give all the neighborhood kids free cotton candy. It was a pleasure to visit with Andy and talk about the old days in the neighborhood.

The tent hadn’t been up two hours when it started raining. We were going to decorate the tent but it was too wet. I went to town for my final fitting and brought the dress home with me! It’s hanging here in TOW-Wanda. It’s supposed to rain all day today. I’m looking forward to a lay low day of doing nothing. Mr. FixIt and I are exhausted. We need to rest up for the two days ahead!

Thursday…Friday….SATURDAY!!! ❤️

Rustic Wedding

Wed, 10 Oct 2018 01:30:24 -0600

“Hay bale seating with comfy quilts for a rustic wedding.”

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” Colossians 3:23-24 NIV

The first rustic wedding I ever attended was my cousin’s oldest daughter’s. It was lovely. I stole the idea of using hay bales for seating from her, with her blessing. I’ve been on the hunt for quilts the last couple of weeks to lay over the hay bales and I’ve found enough, I think. I was rummaging around in some tubs and found some quilts I’d forgotten I even had. This one has a story.

There was once a time in my life when I was downright agoraphobic. I could go to work and I could go shopping, with some discomfort. But to go “out”…to stretch my boundaries and go someplace alone was way too much for me. I would be sick for three days before I traveled anywhere just fretting about it. I’m not sure why or how I got that way but it took quite a while to get over it.

I started by taking off by myself in WV when I went home in the summers for a visit. I knew WV. I was comfortable there. One summer, my older daughter was visiting her father in Kentucky and Hubby #2 was in medical school. I had saved up all year to go see my family and while I was there, I went on a little three day road trip. I was driving in the southern part of the state when I saw a sign for Hinton, WV. There was a railroad museum and a few antique stores so I took the exit and meandered on the backroads of WV till I found myself in a dusty little town on the banks of the New River. Most of downtown Hinton was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1984. It reached its peak population in 1930 with 6,654, according to the census. The population has steadily dwindled over the years till the year 2016 recorded 2,469 living souls inhabiting this bucolic little burg.

I stopped at the only shop open that rainy summer afternoon. The old railroad station was a thrift and antique store. My collecting passion at that time was quilts and there was a lovely wedding ring baby quilt hanging on the wall. It was done in soft pastels and the stitching was really rough. But something about it spoke to me. It had a little hand-printed tag with a woman’s name and the price. I can’t remember now how much I paid for it but I’d be surprised if it was over fifty dollars, given that Hubby #2 was in medical school and money was scarce.

I asked the sales clerk if she could take down the quilt so I could get a closer look. What I thought was just “rough” quilting looked more like a young child had done it. I nearly told the clerk to put it back but that quilt kept speaking to me. I asked her if she knew the woman whose name was on the tag. Was she the quilter?

“Oh, that would be Miss Nellie,” she said. “She’s an old, black woman that lives in a cabin back up the holler yonder.” She pointed in a general direction off somewhere to the south. “She’s blind, don’t you know!”

“Really? And she made this quilt?” I asked. I ran my fingers over the rough stitches, the pieces all puckered. “How does she do that?”

“Well, her granddaughter cuts the pattern and sets the pieces out on the dining room table. Then Miss Nellie sews them by hand, one by one, feeling for the next shape to fit in. She’s been quilting all her life so it’s her fingers that ‘see’ the work,” the clerk explained.

It was such a piece of American Folk Art, I had to have it. That quilt hung over our bed for a very long time. Over the years, it’s been toted and packed and moved and somehow it got wet. There are stains I can’t remove, but that just seems to add to its charm. This will be one of the quilts that graces a seat at our wedding on Saturday. I’ll picture Miss Nellie in her best Sunday-go-Meetin’ dress, her cracked patent leather handbag resting on her lap…a hanky clasped in one hand. I’m sure weddings made her cry. She is surely long gone now. She was ninety one when she made this quilt.

They are delivering the tent today. Our longtime friends, Dianne and Bobby are coming over to help us decorate. The hay will be under cover for the hard rain we are expecting tomorrow. My final fitting for my dress is this afternoon. I am meeting a friend for coffee and a little visit first. She has some quilts for me to use.

The grandkids were over yesterday and while I worked inside and visited with our granddaughter and great granddaughter, her husband was out with Mr. FixIt moving the woodpile that refused to burn. They hauled it down to the end of the field along the fence line in the woods near the old apple tree. They loaded the trailer up with more junk to take to the scrap yard today. They cut down trees around the building and piled the second brush pile a little more compactly and set it ablaze. It’s almost gone now. We had burgers and sat out by the pool as the sunset cast shades from hot pink to salmon to yellow-gold in the sky above us. A day well-worked is a day well-lived.

The place looks SO much better. I told Mr. FixIt there comes a point when he has to say enough is enough. And you know what? It’s going to rain tomorrow so God is going to force him inside to take a day of rest before things get exciting Friday! Wednesday-Thursday-Friday….

SATURDAY!!!

It’s almost here!!! ❤️

I Have a DREAM!

Tue, 09 Oct 2018 01:30:24 -0600

“I have a God dream!”

“But Joseph said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and your children.” And he reassured them and spoke kindly to them.” Genesis 50:19-21 NIV

A big dream. I’m not talking about an in-my-sleep dream. I’m talking about a GOD dream. I was thrilled this morning when my church shared the video of Pastor Jabin Chavez when he spoke at the Warehouse Church a couple of weeks ago. This is the video we saw in church Sunday. I told you yesterday I wanted to process it some more before I discuss it further. It touched me deeply and I really want to share it with you to see if you have the time. This is one of those messages that touches your soul.

youtu.be/XyjzqjJPy…

We are inching ever closer to the end of a very long list of things we want to get done before the wedding. We went to the farm yesterday and mowed. I moved boxes and filled the bird feeders. We emptied the truck and trailer of hay and covered it with a tarp. Mowed, cleaned, picked up junk. I’m still working on cleaning all the parts of the smoker. (I love the product but the clean up is a bear.) I’ve come up with more quilts!

FIVE DAYS!!!!!

The Glory of Love

Sun, 07 Oct 2018 01:30:18 -0600

“Sunset over the Ponderosa.”

“Therefore, since we have these [great and wonderful] promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, completing holiness [living a consecrated life--a life set apart for God’s purpose] in the fear of God.” 2 CORINTHIANS 7:1 AMP

What beautiful sunsets we get to see here on the Ponderosa! I was just heading back in the house after dining al fresco with Mr. FixIt when I notice the light changing. I turned around and caught this. With the hill behind the house, we don’t catch the setting sun itself. However, if there are clouds, you can catch the reflection and oftentimes it is so stunning it takes you breath away.

I got a bit of a late start this morning and by the time I got out to clean the smoker, it was already 88 degrees. Sitting in the sun scrubbing furiously is all it took to knock me down. I had to go lay down in the air conditioning in TOW-Wanda till it cooled off outside and I cooled off inside. We drove to town for a couple of things and picked up hamburger for supper. Mr. FixIt tried to burn the brush pile again and it just will not burn. Too green, too wet…who knows? Not sure what we’re going to do now with two charred piles of blackened brush. Some will burn…just not much. I finished the inside of the smoker at dark and will clean the racks tomorrow while Mr. FixIt bowls.

My good friend Diane hunted down some hay for me so we’re picking that up this afternoon after church. Now I’m on the hunt for some cutter quilts. A friend of mine told me where I might find some. Now it’s just a matter of having the time to go look. sigh

As you can see in the picture, TOW-Wanda is tucked in there under the maple tree by the building. I’m staying out there till the wedding. I am determined to see this through. A commitment is a commitment.

I’m looking forward to church today. I need the break…and the soothing calm I get from worshiping with our church family. I am not at all nervous about the wedding or marrying Mr. FixIt. There is just so much we would like to get done beforehand. We were talking as we drove to town last night. I suggested we go get massages before the wedding. Don’t you think that would be a lovely idea?

Six days!!!!! ❤️

Watching and Waiting

Thu, 04 Oct 2018 01:30:44 -0600

“Mr. Toad is an opportunist.”

“And now a personal but most urgent matter; I write in the gentle but firm spirit of Christ. I hear that I’m being painted as cringing and wishy-washy when I’m with you, but harsh and demanding when at a safe distance writing letters. Please don’t force me to take a hard line when I’m present with you. Don’t think that I’ll hesitate a single minute to stand up to those who say I’m an unprincipled opportunist. Then they’ll have to eat their words.”
2 Corinthians 10:1-2 MSG

I’m back at the Ponderosa tonight but I’m camping out in TOW-Wanda. Poor Mr. FixIt has been working from sunup to sundown trying to get this place wedding worthy and I just couldn’t let him do this all alone. I get here in time to cook him a nice supper. Pot roast, fried potatoes and gravy, and green beans. He said he hasn’t had a decent meal since I left for the farm and it just did my heart a world of good to cook for him.

This big guy startled me when I was carrying things into the house. He sits out there, watching and waiting for nightfall when the bugs are attracted to the outdoor light. He’s pretty hefty so he must be well fed. He reminded me of opportunists….watching and waiting for the moment to jump.

I experienced an example of opportunism last night. Someone who hasn’t spoken to me in two years chimed in on a comment I made. Granted, I broke my cardinal rule and made a comment about a political post. I don’t do that. I don’t do that. Well, ok…just this once. It wasn’t an ugly comment. It was factual. But, this person is aware of my buttons. This brought me to a sincere self-examination.

My first response was to say something I am quite sure I would regret but that only lasted a few seconds. Instead, I jumped at an opportunity of my own. Scroll on by…nothing to see here, folks. And say a prayer of thanksgiving that I dodged a bullet with this one. Thank you, Jesus…for more reasons than one.

❤️

I’m a Risk-taking Storyteller

Tue, 02 Oct 2018 01:30:31 -0600

“I am willing to risk being wrong.”

“He who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap. As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything. In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good. Light is sweet, and it is pleasant for the eyes to see the sun. So if a person lives many years, let him rejoice in them all; but let him remember that the days of darkness will be many. All that comes is vanity.”
Ecclesiastes 11:4-8 ESV

Let’s face it…I’m a risk-taker. I wasn’t always. I stood at the edge of many a precipice, leaning forward just enough to deem the venture far too scary to attempt. And, being a perfectionist compounded the issue with my “If I can’t overachieve, I will not try” personality. This has kept me from experiencing many incredible moments that, at the very least would have been entertaining, and more than likely would have changed my life. But, change wasn’t something I was interested in.

I remember when my 20-year marriage was falling apart. I had been in therapy for depression stemming from a past filled with abuse, both to me and by me. Sexual abuse. Emotional abuse. Alcohol abuse. Prescription abuse. When my ex-husband was at the end of his rope, he had some therapy of his own to gain the tools he needed to take care of himself. He was changing right in front of me and it scared me more than anything else had. Because I knew where this was headed. My long-standing abandonment issues assured me I would be alone and destitute and living on the streets. Of course, that never happened, but I distinctly remember him saying something to me and asking him just how much he was going to change because I didn’t like it. I can look back on that moment now and realize he was actually saving my life, but at the time, I was horrified.

When I found myself dangling by the end of my own rope, I was forced to change or die. I’d love to say it was an easy choice and I moved right on by the huge crevasse that had opened in my life, but that was not the case. I overdosed and came as close to death as I care to go at this point in my life. And that was, as they say, the bottom of the barrel.

I wasn’t a Christian yet, but I saw a tunnel before me of the most beautiful shade of cobalt blue surrounded with rays of gold…like a giant eclipse of the sun. While I was in this tunnel, my dead grandma came to me and stood by my side. She sternly told me, “Get back down there, young lady! You have work to do!” It took me five years and the death of my mother and the prayers of some really great people to find Jesus and my life changed in an instant. Not that my circumstances were ideal and I didn’t still struggle. I did. But I felt every cell in my body come alive and become new. It was…THE change. The really BIG change.

My fear level plummeted. I became a risk taker. After two failed marriages, Mr. Virgo came into my life and I plunged off the cliff of a third marriage holding hands with a wonderful man. We enjoyed seven years of this bliss before he died suddenly as we were planning our golden years. Grief chiseled me into who I am today. Stronger, to be sure. Softer, more empathetic. Grief became my story…and I’m an avid storyteller.

Now, here I am…about to jump off the cliff again. My fourth marriage. I swear, it’s my LAST marriage. Daughter #1 has taken to calling me “Liz”. Someone asked me the other day if I was scared. My answer was, “Heck no! I’m marrying my very best friend whom I’ve known for fifty years. Bring it on!” I realized a couple of days later what she meant….

Was I scared of losing Mr. FixIt like I lost Mr. Virgo?

I pondered. This is why no one likes to talk about death and grief. It hits too darned close to home. Am I worried that Mr. FixIt will drop dead in front of me? I’d be lying if I said no. Am I willing to risk going through loss and grief again so that I can experience the love of another wonderful man? Absolutely! And you know why I say that? Because, I’m a risk-taker now. Ever since I laid everything on the line for Jesus, I’ve been firmly in the camp of “I’m willing to risk being wrong.” It took me 14 months of being engaged to Mr. FixIt to prepare for this marriage. It took standing up and adding the caveat of living separately for the month before the wedding as a sacrifice and atonement for living together before we were married. And it took the assurance of a loving God that He will always and forever have my back in all things I do. I will not be afraid.

They say God will catch you and teach to you fly. I am sure there will be many flying lessons ahead, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take and a story I’m willing to tell. ❤️

The Devolution of Man

Mon, 01 Oct 2018 01:30:05 -0600

“Foggy morning at the farm.”

I’m a scientist at heart. I’ve worked in medicine since I was 17 years old. I was married to a doctor for 21 years. I am a Christian. And the question of creation versus evolution is hard for me to answer completely. As a scientist, I have seen empirical evidence of evolution. It’s difficult for me to argue with DNA and carbon dating and fossils. As a Christian, I believe that God spoke the world into existence and breathed life into all things. When we read the Bible, we are interpreting it through our current base of experiences and knowledge. We read Genesis 1:26 “Let us make man in our image.” Was God talking literally? As in, the way we look today? Humans look different than they did even a thousand years ago. We are taller and certainly bigger than our distant ancestors. So, was He speaking metaphorically? Spiritually? Was He talking about attributes we are familiar with in this day and age? Was there a Big Bang? What is time? Is it measured precisely as it was in the beginning? Was a day exactly 24 hours and a year exactly 365 days? I don’t know the answer to all of these questions because, while I am continuing to learn and grow in my faith, I have not seen God personally. I experience God daily. That is different. I will leave these questions to those who are far better educated than I. Someday, we will know.

My point today is not the “e”volution of man, but the “d”evolution. Devolution is defined as “perversion; deterioration of morality.” I think we can all agree this is what we are seeing on the daily in the news and on all forms of social media. It doesn’t matter which side of the aisle you sit on. It doesn’t matter what your faith, race, sexual identity, nationality, level of education, IQ, or genetic makeup is…there’s something decidedly crazy going on in the world. I’m not sure our country has seen this level of divisiveness since the ‘50s or ‘60s.

Here’s just one small example that I ran across the other day. There is a meme going around on FB that shows President Clinton with a blonde woman with a caption “Bill Clinton and Dr. Ford” with “WELL, WELL, WELL” written across it. Intimating what, exactly? Collusion? A mass conspiracy in the ‘90s to supplant a Supreme Court nominee sometime in the year 2018? I don’t know. The woman in the photo is actually Senator Kirsten Gillibrand, a Democrat and a Senator from New York. Ok…memes happen all the time. Right, Left, true, false…whatever. While these things are irresponsible and show a lack of even a basic level of curiosity as to the veracity of the information being openly disseminated, my biggest problem is the responses they generate.

People I know…or, thought I knew. People who went to school with me. People who claim to be Christians. People who fight for the proper treatment of animals but absolutely, openly, viciously trash human beings who believe differently than they do. In the last couple of years, it seems we (and by “we”, I mean the collective “we”) have lost our ability to govern our tongues. The very people who are furious that God has been taken out of the classroom are lashing out with a vengeance at…I don’t know…everybody. I can let it make me crazy or depressed or angry. Or, I can choose to take the high road. I can check my own tongue and moral compass. Let me just drop a few lines from life’s instruction manual…

Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble. Proverbs 21:23

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. Ephesians 4:29

A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Proverbs 15:1

There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Proverbs 12:18

Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips! Psalm 141:3

Here’s a good one…If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. James 1:26

Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. Psalm 34:13

Oh, I love this one…Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent. Proverbs 17:28

Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits. 1 Peter 3:10

A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit. Proverbs 15:4

Has your spirit felt broken by the words of others? I know the easiest answer of all would be to get off social media altogether, but like it or not, this is how many of us keep in touch with friends and family. Oh, you can hide the posts. You can scroll right on past and not engage. But that doesn’t solve the problem. That doesn’t improve matters. That doesn’t swing our moral compass back toward true north.

It’s a “sticky wicket”, as they say in England. It’s not an easy thing to do. We aren’t the moral police meaning we can’t force others to bend at our will, as they are perhaps trying to bend ours. But what we CAN do is be a light in the world. We can live by example. We cannot change others, but we can show a different way to be. And remember, the instruction manual also says this…

Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Galatians 6:1

As for a person who stirs up division, after warning him once and then twice, have nothing more to do with him, knowing such a person is warped and sinful; he is self-condemned. Titus 3:10-11

If you’re looking for me, I’ll be cleaning up my friends list now. ❤️

Plan B

Sun, 30 Sep 2018 01:30:16 -0600

“My Plan A. On to Plan B.”

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.” James 1:5 ESV

It was so pretty on the hanger, but...true confession...I didn’t try the dress on at the Country Living Fair. For one this, there was one dressing room consisting of four curtains and a mirror and a long line. It was ninety-one degrees. And I was working the booth. I thought for sure it would fit. It was way too big, but beyond that, the style just was not flattering on me. I was SO disappointed. Then I kinda freaked a little. We live in a small town and there aren’t a whole lot of options here for purchasing formal attire.

I jumped on Pinterest and searched for “wedding dresses for the mature bride”. Apparently, a “mature” bride is 35 because that’s how old the women were modeling the dresses. And a lot of the dresses looked matronly. I really don’t want to look like the grandmother of the bride. I AM the bride, and by golly, I’m going to look like one!

I drove to town and prayed on the way.

“Lord, thank you for all of your provision. I want to thank you for having the perfect dress waiting for me at the first shop I stop at today. It needs to be on sale, Lord. And I don’t want to pay over $____ for it. Oh, and if possible, I want to look like a queen. Amen”

I pulled into the first shop on my route. We tried a couple dresses off the rack but they neither one suited me. Then Julie, the attendant, directed me to the sale rack. She said, “I think this just might work. Try this.” It was a size 12. My heart sank. I’ve put on 15 pounds from the steroids I was on for two weeks. But I was game to try.

She helped me into the dress and when I came out and looked at myself in the mirror, I cried. Ok, I made a little 14 year old girl who was in the shop cry, ok? This dress is stunning. Nothing like I imagined I would have…or want. But, when I asked the attendant how much it was, it was $1.00 below the price I told God I could pay! We’re going to do a little fitting and then it will be perfect. I’m inot sharing any other details because that man of mine reads my blog and he won’t see the dress until I walk out to the tent. So you’ll just have to wait, too!

You always need a Plan B and sometimes, YOUR Plan B was God’s plan all along! ❤️

He Who Lives in Me...

Sat, 29 Sep 2018 01:30:28 -0600

“A rustic cross is just what we need to turn our tent into a House of God.”

“Little children, you are from God and have overcome them, for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” 1 John 4:4 ESV

I ran a million errands yesterday. Ok...it just FELT like a million. I needed thread and some sewing scissors to sew the lace extension on my wedding dress. (It’s not quite as long as I want.) I had to take all the stuff I bought yesterday over to Mr. FixIt’s and pick up the sewing machine and my wedding dress. Then I noticed a package I was expecting wasn’t delivered because I wasn’t there. I picked up the pink slip out of the mailbox and headed to the post office. On and on and on.

My last stop was at Pat Catan’s…the craft store in town. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. I have an idea for a banner or something but I just can’t quite make up my mind. Then I saw this rustic cross. I thought it would be perfect to hang over the spot we stand with the pastor. (We have a pastor!) We aren’t getting married in a church, but we can sure bring God into the tent! As I was checking out, the clerk said, “Wow. You just bought this cross and, I don’t quite know how to tell you…you saved $6.66!” Without missing a beat, I smiled and said…”He who lives in me is greater than he who lives in the world. He doesn’t scare me!”

I didn’t take the receipt, though.

What I did do this week was disconnect from the media for awhile. As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, I found way too many triggers everywhere I turned. Instead…I threw all my focus on this gentle man I am about to marry. Avoidance oF the media surrounding the event does not mean I am uninformed or uncaring. It just means I know my limits and I had reached mine by the end of the Cosby sentencing. This world breaks my heart sometimes. Will there ever be a time when we are less…divided, angry, hateful?

I may be weary of all this, but I am not fearful. Fear is from the enemy. He will whisper and tell you all is lost. Don’t believe him! WALK STRONG! ❤️

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalms‬ ‭23:4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Praise and Pumpkins

Fri, 28 Sep 2018 01:30:51 -0600

“Pumpkins seem pretty pricey this year!”

“And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen.” Philippians 4:19-20 ESV

I went to my small group from church last night. I shared with them my decision to go back to the farm until Mr. FixIt and I get married. I also shared what happened with the trucks. When I wrote yesterday’s post, I was concerned with the possible cost of repairs or, heaven forbid, replacement of two vehicles. So, I prayed. Fervently.

Our pastor has been stressing the importance of praying as if your prayer has already been answered. So I thanked God for fixing it so that we didn’t have to replace our vehicles. I thanked him for making the repairs simple and affordable. I also thanked him for being a loving Father and for taking such good care of us.

Yesterday morning, I called the Ford dealer and told him about my wheel screaming and that I really needed it looked at quickly because I can’t be without my truck. He said to bring it right in. Blessing #1. I backed down the driveway onto the road, put it in drive, and the scream totally disappeared. Blessing #2. I drove the hour to the Ford dealer, explained what was going on, and they took the truck right back. I waited in the lounge for an hour then the mechanic came out to get me. He told me there was a plate that had moved a little and that’s what was making my back brakes squeak when I back up. He fixed that. He said he went over the entire brake system and it was fine. When I asked him how much I owed him, he said “Not a thing.” Blessing #3. Then Mr. FixIt called. He met with the Toyota garage and determined most of what they wanted to fix was either something he could fix himself, or something that wasn’t at all urgent. They agreed to a couple of small things that needed fixing more urgently, and the total was under $400. Blessing #4!

These blessings…are they coincidence? I don’t think so. I don’t believe in coincidences or accidents. Are they because I made a commitment to do the right thing in honoring God before we get married? I do not know the mind of God, but if I were a betting person, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that’s exactly what happened.

The rest of the day was spent running errands before I headed to small group from church. I bought two big galvanized tubs to put ice and drinks in for the wedding. I picked up a few more invitations and got them sent out. I bought some burlap ribbon for the bridal bouquet. And I went on the search for pumpkins for decorating the tent. However, I am NOT paying $10 a piece for them! This was at a produce market north of Marietta, OH. I’m also not buying mums till next week. If they are blooming now, they will be sticks by the time the wedding gets here. Still haven’t firmed up the officiant. Everything else is coming together nicely! Oh, this is going to be SO much fun!!! ❤️

Not Today, Devil!

Thu, 27 Sep 2018 01:30:57 -0600

“I think Mr. Virgo was smiling at me today!”

“And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, "This is the way, walk in it," when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left.” Isaiah 30:21 ESV

For those of you who have been reading this blog from the beginning, you will remember my reticence to mention God in my posts. I was very, very busy trying to make sure I didn’t offend anyone. And, of course, that is still very much my focus. But as time has passed, I have let God into my writing more and more. I always SAID I was a faith-based writer, but I really wasn’t walking the talk. That all changed one day when I got a text from God in church. That was a great story. Anyway, I’m all about Jesus anymore and I just let out what needs to come out and I don’t worry so much about it anymore.

Our Pastor frequently talks about what happens when you are truly a Christ follower. What happens when you make God the center of your life. He always says, “If you put God at the center of your life…are truly following him with all your heart…watch out! Because there’s nothing the enemy hates more than someone putting God before anything else. He attacks and causes all kinds of destruction and whispers lies 24/7 trying to convince you if God REALLY loved you…these bad things wouldn’t be happening. And, of course, it isn’t true. Nothing the enemy says is true.

Mr. FixIt’s truck had a recall and when they started tearing it apart, they found all kinds of other things wrong. He’s going up today to have a look at it with the mechanics and make a decision. Then, after I helped Mr. FixIt with some things around The Ponderosa yesterday, I drove to the farm. By the time I got there, my wheels were squealing really loud. I had hit a pot hole on this wretched road just before, so I have no idea what’s going on.

I know exactly what is happening here. I was led by God to do the right thing and moved back to the farm till after the wedding. I can feel it to my bones that it’s the right thing to do. And then…the enemy strikes! First, Mr. FixIt’s truck then mine. In the week after we put God first. It is so clear. However, I’ll tell you like my friend, DaShara says…”Not today, Devil…I am a Child of God!”

I know we’re on the right path. And the enemy can throw roadblocks up every step of the way, but we will persevere. We will not be deterred by the likes of him! He who lives within me is greater than he who lives in the world. Everything will work out with an even greater outcome than previously imagined. Amen! ❤️

A Tangled Web

Wed, 26 Sep 2018 01:30:40 -0600

“Sin starts out easily enough and soon ensnares you in a tangled web.”

“I want you to be free from anxieties. The unmarried man is anxious about the things of the Lord, how to please the Lord. But the married man is anxious about worldly things, how to please his wife, and his interests are divided. And the unmarried or betrothed woman is anxious about the things of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit. But the married woman is anxious about worldly things, how to please her husband. I say this for your own benefit, not to lay any restraint upon you, but to promote good order and to secure your undivided devotion to the Lord. If anyone thinks that he is not behaving properly toward his betrothed, if his passions are strong, and it has to be, let him do as he wishes: let them marry—it is no sin. But whoever is firmly established in his heart, being under no necessity but having his desire under control, and has determined this in his heart, to keep her as his betrothed, he will do well.” 1 Corinthians 7:32-37 ESV

As you may remember, I lived twenty-seven years of my life as a practicing Jew, so I am quite familiar with the Days of Awe or the High Holy Days. This is the period of time from Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. The dates vary year to year because the Jewish calendar is based on the lunar cycle so it doesn’t match up with the calendar we use daily. This year, Rosh Hashanah starts on September 29th and Yom Kippur is October 8th. It is not a coincidence that this holy time coincides with the days leading up to our wedding.

The High Holy days is a time of reflection and meditation. While Jews pray for their name to be in the Book of Life for the New Year, Yom Kippur is a solemn day of fasting and prayer, a day of atonement when you ask God to forgive you of your sins. When I made the decision to marry Mr. FixIt because I was feeling wrong living with him without being married, I had no idea the High Holy Days were coming up.

I have been staying at the farm by myself for the last week. This is my time of atonement. Being away from my sweetheart isn’t easy, but it is a “fasting”, of sorts. I can’t quite find the words to describe what is happening within my heart as I go through these days without him before we marry.

One may say, “Oh, you’ve lived together all this time. What’s the difference now?”

Well, it is one thing to do something wrong because you were unaware it was sinful. It’s quite another to know it is wrong, then do it anyway. I may be late to the party on this one…but I’ve shown up and suited up. I’ve made a commitment. And I have to say, I am honored by Mr. FixIt’s respect for my decision. Like he said, I am my own woman…I don’t need anyone’s permission to do something, married or not. I know he’s not as enthusiastic about this as I am, but I appreciate his patience and understanding. I think we are both gaining something from the experience.

Sin is a tangled web we can so easily get snared in. Seeking solitude for prayer and meditation has helped me sweep away some cobwebs of my own making. And having a clean slate upon which to build our foundation just feels better to me. I am not being judgmental of others and their personal choices. I speak of what is in my heart. ❤️

The Feeling of Prayers

Mon, 24 Sep 2018 01:30:49 -0600

“When someone prays for me, it’s like a thousand feathered angel wings wrapping around me.”

“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” Colossians 4:2 NIV

I will never forget when my friend Bill told me I was on his daily prayer list ever since the overdose at the end of my second marriage. I was...stunned. Here he was, a busy Emergency Room physician and a missionary in a country and location they could not reveal for fear of being killed. And I was on his daily prayer list?

When I finally became a Christian in 2005, the first people I told were my neighbors, Bob and Ellie. I asked them over, sat them on the couch, and told them I had accepted Christ as my personal Savior. They both immediately burst into tears and said, “Oh, we both have been praying so hard for you!”

When I revealed on Saturday that Mr. FixIt and I were getting married and shared the reason why, several of you told me you had been praying for me to hear God’s whispers and do what was right.

This was astonishing to me. I have prayed for countless people and circumstances, but I don’t think about others praying FOR me. Maybe my safety and comfort and good circumstances actually came because of the prayers of others. My grandma comes to mind. I can guarantee she prayed for me. Many times.

Hindsight tells me the gradual discomfort I felt when I was someplace on my journey I shouldn’t have been was at least partially due to the prayers of others trying to lead me back home. I once asked you here to pray for me and I felt a supernatural comfort…like a thousand feathered angel wings wrapped all around me. This is what the prayer of another feels like if you can open yourself to it. It’s physical. It’s supernatural. And it’s very, very real.

Praying for the happiness of my ex-husband and his soon-to-be wife allowed forgiveness which gave me peace. Praying for my children and grandchildren gives me hope for their safety and well-being. Praying for Mr. FixIt brings me reassurance of his strength and leadership for our family as we prepare to marry. Prayer can be felt by those you pray for. They may not have a clue it’s your prayers they are feeling, but trust me…they feel it in one way or another. So, keep praying. If there is someone who is lost, pray them home. If there is someone who is discouraged, pray for bravery. If there is someone who is broken, pray for peace. Prayer never hurt anyone and even though you may never see the results, it makes a difference. Because God listens. He hears. He cares. He loves us more than anything you could possibly imagine.

Take this into your week and be encouraged. Prayer changes things…even if it’s just inside of you. ❤️

A Change is Gonna Come...

Sat, 22 Sep 2018 01:30:36 -0600

“A change is coming. Can you feel it?”

“Many claim to have unfailing love, but a faithful person who can find? The righteous lead blameless lives; blessed are their children after them.” Proverbs 20:6-7 NIV

Yesterday, I told you there were some big decisions I’ve been working on the last few months. Today, I want to talk with you about one of them. The most important one. This is a REALLY long post...but hang in there with me. You won’t be sorry.

Not long after Mr. FixIt and I became a serious item, God started working on me. For a long time, whenever I walk into church, I say a little prayer. I always say, “Lord, if there is a personal message you have for me today, please anoint the Pastor’s words so he can deliver it to me.” Countless times, God answers my plea and the Pastor will literally come to the front of the stage, stand right in front of me, look me straight in the eye, and say something that is unmistakably personal. Something exactly about what I’ve been working on, or worrying over. I would say it’s uncanny, but what it really is…is supernatural. Our God is a supernatural God. He listens, and He communicates…through the Holy Spirit. Through a total stranger. Through your Guardian Angel. If He has a message, and you ask Him to tell you loud and clear, He doesn’t need a megaphone. He’ll beat you over the head with it if it’s something you truly need.

From the time Mr. FixIt and I got serious, I’ve been getting messages from God that we shouldn’t be living together without being married. I have to be honest…this has never bothered me before. I’m a product of the ‘60s and I never had a problem living with someone before we got married. But this time is different. It’s been wearing on me. And I think I’ve figured out why.

The biggest reason is my faith has grown exponentially since Mr. Virgo died. I had to make God the center of my life in order to survive that loss. In order to not feel so alone. And God has drawn me ever so close to Him. He has guarded me and protected me. He has led me through some terribly difficult times. He has been my rock…my anchor. In the past, that has not been the case. My relationship with my husband was my focus. My relationship with God suffered and therefore I suffered. And I wasn’t even aware of it.

Mr. FixIt and I keep God at the center of our relationship. Or…so I would love for everyone to believe. See, here’s the thing. You’re either all in with God. Or, you’re not. That’s why I’ve been feeling off about cohabitation. Now, there is the issue of widow’s benefits. I had been told when I first went to Social Security after Mr. Virgo died, that if I remarried I would lose my widow’s benefits. I’ve kept that information in my mind all this time without questioning. Until last weekend.

Mr. FixIt and I have spent a great deal of time apart in the last month between being sick and in the hospital, camping with the Girl Campers, and going to Country Living Fair. The reason I took my camper up with me and camped alone instead of bunking with my gal pals was…I needed some alone time with God. These wonderful women I was with are two of my strongest Christian friends. They mentor me. They are sounding boards for me when I have questions. They are my fellow prayer warriors when I need them. I confessed how I was feeling and they talked with me about it.

While camping alone, I prayed deeply. I told God my worries. I told him I totally trust in Him and that I know without question that He will provide for me. But I’ve been so worried about losing my widow’s benefits because my own Social Security is paltry. I was a stay-at-home mom, so I didn’t make a lot of money in my lifetime. Mr. Virgo, however, worked in 5-Star resorts and restaurants all his career. He died before touching his Social Security. My benefits through him are far more than my own. Not enough to live in the lap of luxury, mind you. But enough to live on if I were extremely frugal. I asked God to give me a sign that I wouldn’t lose my benefits if I remarried.

Then, I listened. “Google. What happens to widow’s benefits if you remarry?” Simple enough, right? I mean, why didn’t I think to Google that a long time ago? Because….it wasn’t the right time. Mr. FixIt asked me to marry him just a month after we started dating. It was too soon. We needed to get to know each other more. We needed to grow together in our faith. And, I needed more time to work through my grief. This was God’s perfect timing. I Googled the question and page after page of answers came back. “If you remarry after the age of 60, you will NOT lose your widow’s benefits.” Wow! The reason it stuck in my head so long ago was, I was only 59 when Mr. Virgo died. They told me if I remarried, I would lose my benefits. But that was THEN. Grief brain didn’t allow the rest of it to soak in.

I sat back…stunned by this revelation. I looked up and said, “Thank you, God. That’s all I needed to know!” Then I texted Mr. FixIt.

“I miss you. Let’s get married.”

Without missing a beat, he wrote back. “OK! We’ll set a date when you get home! What prompted this?”

“God.” I said.

So, we set a date! Yes, my lovely Ranchers…we’re getting MARRIED!!!

Ohhhhh….Emmmmmm…..Geeeeeeeee!!!

I’m all in. I can’t, in good conscience, profess my faith AND live in a way that I feel, for me, is counter to that. So I’m following my conscience and God’s clear instructions to marry this very wonderful man that He sent me. We chose October 13th as our wedding day. When I was looking through the calendar, the 13th jumped out at me. I seemed to remember it being a family anniversary. I looked up on my family tree and indeed…it was my Grandma and PopPop’s anniversary! Those two in whose bedroom I am currently propped up, writing to you! PopPop died on my mom’s birthday…August 26th. Just seven weeks before their 50th Wedding Anniversary. I know how terribly sad I was when Mr. Virgo died just three weeks shy of our 6th anniversary. I can’t imagine what my grandma went through losing her forever sweetheart so close to such a monumental event. I am thrilled we can celebrate our wedding on their special day!

So, there it is, my friends. A change is gonna come. Will I still be a widow? Yes, I will always and forever be a widow. AND, I will be a wife again. Never in my wildest dreams would I have anticipated something so precious happening again. I know Mr. Virgo had a hand in this. He and God stopped at the 9th or 10th hole one day when they were playing a round of golf.

“Hey, look down there at that beautiful woman. Do you think we can send her someone to love who will love her back with the white-hot heat of the sun?”

And God said…”Ha! Watch this!” ❤️

A Fork in the Road

Fri, 21 Sep 2018 01:30:19 -0600

“Making decisions at the fork in the road.”

“If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen. Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.” 1 Peter 4:11-12 NIV

I’ve had a couple of major decisions weighing on my heart the last few months. Good things...but just figuring out which way to go is sometimes overwhelming. When I am faced with just such a dilemma and I grasp it with both hands, I try to wrestle it into the box I want to put it in. This is a goal. Something you can plan for, see, hold onto, and finish all on your own. And...quite often it leads to frustration when you can’t make it fit. When it doesn’t work out the way you want it to.

There’s another way to do this that relieves you of the pressure you put on yourself. You give it to God. I have been reminded of this multiple times in the last week when wonderful women of great faith were sent to me. I listened to their wise counsel. I held hands and prayed with them. And I spent the weekend camping in TOW-Wanda while I was in Columbus at the Country Living Fair. When I stopped trying to hold on so tight and bend these situations to MY will and let God work it out to HIS will, the answers became perfectly clear. The decisions ultimately were simple and life changing. This is a dream…something that comes from God. We discussed this at my small group from church last night and it made so much sense.

I love how this works. I wish I would remember to give it over to God BEFORE I beat my head against a brick wall for months. Maybe one of these days that stubborn “I can do it myself” attitude with magically melt away. And, maybe someday pigs really WILL fly. For now, I’ll take the solace where I can get it and be grateful for God’s grace and the serenity it can provide.

“...When a believing person prays, great things happen.” James 5:16 NCV

❤️

The Velvet Blue of Dusk

Thu, 20 Sep 2018 01:30:40 -0600

“"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” Matthew 6:34 ESV

This is the time of year where the days are noticeably shorter, yet the weather still screams “summer”. After a lovely day at the farm, Mr. FixIt and I had to drive back over to his house to get my truck. He has a job to do in town the next few days and we didn’t even think of having two vehicles till yesterday afternoon. I love having him around. I also love some alone time at the farm. I have the best of all worlds.

I threw some old carrots out on the lawn where the deer were gathered the other night. I sat out on the front porch at sunset to watch for them to come get their treat. As I sat there waiting, I tuned my ears to the sounds around me. There was a cardinal darting in the underbrush along the creek….chattering at the cats who must be nearby. Tree frogs, katydids, and locusts provided a chorus for free. I haven’t heard crickets here like I usually do. They didn’t show up at the Ponderosa till earlier this month. I thought that was odd.

I heard a passenger jet flying high overhead as we are on a flight path to somewhere. The occasional vehicle passes. Thankfully the traffic has slowed considerably due to the stage of construction on the pipeline and compressor station. And, of course, the condition of the road warrants slowing down.

There are very few flowers in bloom now. There is some sort of small purple flower in the ditch along the driveway. Some leaves are changing already. The dogwood have hints of pink and crimson. The berries on them aren’t red yet. There are little flashes of yellow at the tips of some branches on the hillside across the road. The incessant humming of the refrigerator is in the background.

This is the time of year when I am called out to the front porch to soak in every moment I can before Jack Frost sends me indoors. There wasn’t a breath of a breeze. The humidity was nearly 60%. It was still 84 degrees at 7:00pm. A Jenny Wren scolded the neighbor as he took his dog for a walk around the perimeter of his property. The wild turkeys in the woods across the way have gone to roost.

Another day is done. I’ve avoided the news. I’ve embraced the peaceful surroundings at the farm. I’ve seen pictures loved ones have shared. This little one had her first day of Girl Scouts. That one is recovering from surgery. Another one was out feeding the chickens. I am filled with grace and a peace beyond understanding. It is well. It is well…with my soul. ❤️

Strawberry Jam and Biscuits

Wed, 19 Sep 2018 01:30:20 -0600

“Berry Baskets bring back special memories of my grandparents’ farm.”

“For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything.” Hebrews‬ ‭3:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

One of the things I stumbled upon at the Country Living Fair over the weekend were these sweet little berry baskets. Oh, my...did they bring back memories! When I was a little girl, my uncle was going to college at WVU majoring in Vocational Agriculture. He was always doing something around the farm to help my grandparents. He added the cinder block building with a cistern to collect the rainwater from the roof for drinking water. There was a well here on the property and it had wonderful, sweet water...until they capped the old oil and gas wells on the property. Something they did caused the aquifer to fracture and the water became briny and undrinkable. For a long time, we had to drive several miles with two big milk cans and haul water from a local spring. Then Uncle Bud helped my grandparents build the cistern and we finally got good drinking water on the farm again.

My uncle also put in a septic system, built a basement, rolled the house on top, build a cinderblock bathroom and we joined the civilized folks with indoor plumbing. I was about six years old when all this occurred. After the barn, the cow shed, and the pig stye were built, the next thing on the agenda was to try to make this land not only support us, but pay us. Uncle Bud planned out and planted a huge strawberry patch up on the hill. He and my great grandfather built a nice structure with a long window down one side. The window was hinged and opened outward to make an overhanging awning with a counter. The pickers would bring flats of strawberries to this shed to be sorted and cleaned to take to the Farmer’s Market in town. At the corner of the building was a huge water tank that collected water from the roof of the strawberry shed to be used to clean the berries.

These little berry baskets took me right back to those long summer days spent out at the farm…the very farmhouse I am sitting in as I write this. Oh, those berries were the sweetest things I had ever tasted. You didn’t even need sugar. They were deep red all the way through. And they were huge! One filled my little hand. Grandma wouldn’t let me pick them because I had a tendency to eat the berries and step on the runners. Runners are what makes more plants and more plants means more berries which translates to direct profit. I was relegated to the kitchen to cook for the pickers…which served me well as I got older. I learned to cook at grandma’s elbow…standing on the red kitchen stool.

Grandma made big, fluffy buttermilk biscuits and would slice them open, slather them with fresh churned butter and sugar, then add a good portion of sliced strawberries. She always had a jar of top cream in the fridge and would whip that with a hand cranked egg beater and add a little sugar and vanilla. Then she would spoon out this soft whipped cream on the top of our little biscuit “shortcakes” for a dessert fit for a queen. What I would give to have one of those…made by her loving hands and served with a peck on the cheek. I miss my grandma so much and feel closest to her here in the home of her heart.

We were planning to come to the farm today to mow anyway, but last evening my cousin called to say someone had been seen sleeping on the porch of the community building down the road. I started to ask if we could just come on out last night, but I stopped mid-sentence. It was almost dark and we’d already had a busy day. Mr. FixIt picked up on it though. He asked if I wanted to come out right then and I really did. We packed up the truck and off we came. It is worrisome to drive these country roads after dark. There are so many deer out at dusk and the early night hours. When we pulled into the driveway, the only company we had at the farm were four deer out on the front lawn. I was a little worried because the front porch light was burned out, but that was quickly fixed and nothing had been disturbed.

We stay here often enough to let people know the place is occupied. There’s someone here every day between us and my cousins. We were going to go camping this weekend, but staying here at the farm is as good as any vacation for me. The memories are as thick as buttermilk here and there is truly no place like home for this hungry heart of mine. ❤️

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Wed, 12 Sep 2018 01:30:39 -0600

“Craving human touch after loss is one of the most painful aspects of grief.”

“I’m so grateful to Christ Jesus for making me adequate to do this work. He went out on a limb, you know, in trusting me with this ministry. The only credentials I brought to it were invective and witch hunts and arrogance. But I was treated mercifully because I didn’t know what I was doing—didn’t know Who I was doing it against! Grace mixed with faith and love poured over me and into me. And all because of Jesus.” 1 Timothy 1:12-14 MSG

My younger granddaughter is my mini-me. Creative, funny, and incredibly intuitive, she just seems to “get me”. And she knows when to contact me and say just the right thing. Monday was Mr. Virgo’s birthday, and while the day itself did not carry the painful weight it has in the past, I still could not ignore the feelings in my heart as I remembered such a wonderful man and the passage of time without him. Then, last night... “Little” contacted me via text.

“What was Papa’s last name?” she asked.

“McKinney, sweetheart. Same as mine.”

“He was a ghost on a video.”

“What? What video???”

“A video I saw last week. I just remembered to tell you. A medium was talking and a man with Papa’s name spoke out and said he was there. He said he died of a heart attack. He said the woman reminded him of his wife because she was creative and funny. I know it was him and I just wanted to tell you…he’s not really gone.”

Wow.

She was only five when her Papa died. Yet she was the one who gave me the most comfort. She held my heart in a special way that only she and I could understand. She kept a sacred space between us where her Papa and my Mr. Virgo could live forever and never be forgotten. She is so special. She had no way of remembering that Monday had been his birthday. Yet, she knew to reach out.

Thinking back over the years since he died, I remember how hard it was to miss his physical presence. I missed his hugs the very most. The way he would fold me into his chest, the top of my head tucked just under his chin. The smell of leather and tobacco and wood coming from his sweater. The sudden absence of that left a gaping hole in my life. I have always been a hugger. One of the reasons my second marriage fell apart was because Hubby #2 wasn’t. He hadn’t been raised that way. But Mr. Virgo gave me all the hugs I wanted.

I went on the search for physical contact after Mr. Virgo died. I tried dating a couple of guys and that was a catastrophe. Way too soon, way wrong people. I got hugs at church. I cruised the downtown shops and the mall in my little town looking for people I knew who would hold me for that extra long hug that makes casual acquaintances uncomfortable. I have a brother/friend who was wonderful…if I texted him at 3:00am, he would answer right away with “Where are you?” “In the camper,” I replied. “Be right there.” He would saunter over from his house a few blocks away, climb in the camper with me, and we would snuggle up in the corner under a blanket and I would show him pictures on my iPad while he wrapped his arms around me tight. No expectations. Nothing sexual. Just unconditional brotherly love and compassion. I will never forget his kindness. I got a prescription from my doctor for weekly massages to keep myself anchored. I visited my children and my brother as often as I could. I traveled and stayed with gentle friends who held my heart. And, eventually, I could stand up on my own again. I didn’t NEED quite so much. I didn’t ACHE quite so hard.

I was at a place of acceptance when I came back to West Virginia to live on the farm two years ago. I was at peace with my life and felt more centered than I probably ever had. That’s not to say I didn’t want someone in my life…I did. I’m a people person and I do better with a tribe. But I was getting ok with not having someone around all the time. Then…along came Mr. FixIt. And let me tell you…he is a hugger extraordinaire. When we first started dating, we would just sit and hug each other for hours. We’d talk and tell stories and just BE together. One day, he whispered…”This is medicine for the soul.” He was right, it was. It still is.

I know I’m blessed. I know what a gift this is. Late life love is precious. I just read a tweet from the author, Anne Lamott. She was watching the US Open with her love a couple of days ago when he said, “Can I ask you a question?” “Oh, sure,” she said, thinking it was something about the carport they were building. “Will you marry me?” She’s 64. He’s 63. “God is SUCH a show-off!” she said. I know not everyone wants another love after loss. I know some want it and it doesn’t come. I struggle sometimes sharing my joy while balancing sensitivity for others’ pain. My point is to always strive for hope. Always search for joy. No matter what that looks like for you…alone, together, screaming from the mountain tops, or cloistered in the stacks of a really great library. Whatever your bliss…my wish for you is that you find it. In spades! ❤️

Listening to the Still Small Voice

Tue, 11 Sep 2018 01:30:57 -0600

“Sternwheelers left the festival early this weekend due to threat of flooding.”

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”” Joshua 1:9 NIV

This time last year, I had just wrapped up my first Sisters on the Fly event that I hosted here in West Virginia...WV Riverboat Rendezvous. It was timed to coincide with the Sternwheel Festival in Marietta. There were twenty-three women in attendance and we had a blast! Lots of activities from riding a stern wheeler over to Blennerhassett Island to touring a Victorian Mansion to learning how to clog while listening to WV’s Number 1 Fiddle Player. We churned homemade ice cream and had an old fashioned weenie roast. We took a tour of an abandoned oil and gas town. The weather that weekend was fabulous. No rain, reasonably cool weather, and a wonderful campground made for a really fun weekend.

All year, I toyed with the idea of doing it again. While it was indeed a lot of fun, it was a tremendous amount of work. Every time I thought about getting started organizing it, that still small voice said, “No, not this year.” I was afraid I was disappointing others who might want to gather again this fall, but I just couldn’t shake the thought that it wasn’t meant to be this year. If I would have forged ahead and not listened, the event would have come, not only on the heels of my hospitalization last week, but also a wicked bad storm hit over the weekend. Our rain gauges, both at the Ponderosa and at the farm, were topped out at six inches and overflowing, so who knows what we actually received? The point being…I listened. I was told no. And I abided by that.

Everyone who camped with me this weekend with the Girl Campers got home safely with no weather problems. I was so grateful to have had that time with my friends without all the stress a large event causes. I went to the farm yesterday and did laundry in preparation for this week’s trip to the Country Living Fair. Mr. FixIt and his daughter came out to join me. We went through some of the boxes of my treasures and had so much fun looking at things my dad brought back from the war and some old family photographs. We played cards and told stories of growing up. It was such a pleasure to feel the farmhouse warm with the love of family.

There was one point where I opened one of the boxes and laying right on the top was the bill from the ambulance company that took Mr. Virgo to the hospital the day he died. I looked up at Mr. FixIt’s daughter and sighed. She, too, is a widow. She looked at me questioningly.

I closed the lid to the box and smiled. “There are still some things that bother me,” I said. “This is the ambulance bill. Today would have been his 68th birthday. I don’t need to go through this box today.” She gets it.

Still…it was a good day, all in all. I just had to leave well enough alone.

And today…we remember the fallen. 9/11. We will never forget. ❤️

Feeling Stronger Every Day

Mon, 03 Sep 2018 01:30:27 -0600

“I love Psalms.”

“Worship the Lord your God, and his blessing will be on your food and water. I will take away sickness from among you,” Exodus 23:25 NIV

Remember that song? You never realize how sick you were till you feel better. My medication list just got longer...for the next twelve days, at least. But it’s a small price to pay at this point.

I went to the farm yesterday to look for something and do some laundry. When I walked up on the back porch, I noticed the cats had left a Ritual Sacrifice to the Food God. This one was of the rodent variety. Not sure of the significance, but it is their way of showing love…however icky. At least it wasn’t one of my pretty songbirds. As I was feeding Boy Cat, he shot past me and made a bee line for the driveway. I knew he was after something and soon he came back proudly carrying a frog to present to me. Of course, as soon as he set down the frog in front of me, it took off. I managed to shoo that cat enough to give the frog a chance to make his escape and soon Boy Cat was happily munching on his real supper.

As I walked into the house, I saw all the boxes. I have to tell you, my heart sank for a moment. I was so sick last week that I actually forgot for a moment they were out there. They’ll have to wait for a while though. Winter is coming fast enough and I’m not going to miss out on a moment of this gorgeous weather coming up. We are to have a very hot week, then things should cool off. There are already a lot of leaves changing around here. Spots of gold are everywhere and leaves are falling on some varieties of trees. I won’t mind cool nights. They make sleeping so much better.

The grass desperately needs cut out at the farm and I was actually smart enough to refrain from trying to mow it myself. I consider that a major accomplishment. I am not always to responsible. Unfortunately, I have shared this virus with Mr. FixIt and he’s feeling pretty miserable this evening. I certainly hope I can get him through this quickly. I don’t think he will have the same lung issue with it because he doesn’t have asthma like me. Thank goodness! I’m sterilizing everything because these respiratory viruses can live on surfaces for ten days. That’s how people keep getting reinfected.

Well, it’s Monday. Go out there and make it a good week and be good to each other. A smile can be such a blessing to someone that it bounces right back on you! ❤️

2,000 Days

Sun, 02 Sep 2018 01:30:41 -0600

“2,000 Days”

“(For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are a shadow:) Job 8:9 KJV

For a long time after losing Mr. Virgo, I marked the timeline of my grief by significant dates. The first anniversary without him came just three weeks after he died. That was a tough one. First Halloween marked when we met. The first time I celebrated his birthday alone was terribly sad. First Thanksgiving, first Christmas...the list went on and on and I was convinced when the first “angelversary” of his death came around, I could turn a corner on this grief thing. Needless to say, that didn’t happen.

The seconds were worse for me than the firsts. Because, the first year I was in a fog. The second year I was awake and he was still gone. It was deeply painful. It was desperately lonely. I was exceedingly angry. Each day led me forward, ever so slowly, toward…what? Healing? Peace? Acceptance? It wasn’t easy. Somewhere along the line, 1,000 days passed and I wrote about my experiences along the way. Still marking the calendar of grief.

Now it’s been 2,000 days. Unbelievable. It seems like forever ago. It seems like yesterday. It sometimes even seems like he was a dream and I never really had him. I think that’s fairly normal, from what I have heard from you all over the years. I can’t remember his voice anymore. I struggle to picture his hands. He’s like a really good movie that I loved and watched over and over till I memorized all the words…then lost the disk. I’ll never see that particular movie again, but I remember how much I enjoyed it.

I still get waves of grief. They don’t hit nearly as hard as they used to, and they don’t last nearly as long, thank God. I notice them most when I am tired or not feeling well. I’ve learned so much about myself since he died. I’ve become much stronger. My world is brighter now that I’ve passed through all those days. I have new love. But I will never lose my old love. I have them both. I am a widow and a partner. I grieve and I rejoice.

I have greater compassion now. For others. For myself. I know not everyone has a new love. Not everyone wants it. Women are perfectly capable of being widowed and still lead a fulfilling life. One does not need a partner to be rich in love. Women can be remarkably resilient and strong all on their own.

So, it’s been 2,000 days. Remarkable…yet another ordinary day. The seas are much calmer this far from the shore. ❤️

Flora or Fauna?

Tue, 28 Aug 2018 01:30:34 -0600

“Music Pink and Blue” by Georgia O’Keeffe

““Look at the lilies and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?” Luke 12:27-28 NLT

It has been over a century since Georgia O’Keeffe first showed her art in New York. Her floral studies look as though you are viewing a delicate flower under a microscope. The languid curves and soft focus give an ethereal beauty to mother nature’s treasures.

In 1918, society was absolutely dominated by conservative men. There were few female artists…and none like Ms. O’Keeffe. Her art was interpreted as portraying the female genitalia. She spent the next six decades denying this vehemently. They were merely studies of flowers. However, I can certainly understand why there was this…misunderstanding.

Georgia O’Keeffe lived in the desert southwest and her art is well known and abundant in the western states. I will never forget the first time I saw one of her paintings and thought it was rather…bawdy. It wasn’t till years later I learned to see what she saw. This particular painting is called “Music Pink and Blue”. I don’t know. It just doesn’t look like music to me. It looks like anatomy.

Speaking of which, the doctor’s visits continue. I’ve been catching up with my routine healthcare ever since I started on Medicare the first of June. Before that, my insurance cost me nearly $800 a month with a deductible over $7,300! I used it specifically for my medications and for strict emergencies. I put off anything I could for three years till Medicare kicked in. So now I’m playing catchup.

The older you get, the more things can be wrong with you, it seems. And one test leads to a panel of blood tests which leads to a CT scan and on to a colonoscopy and upper endoscopy. The mammogram went from films, to special compression views, to needle biopsy, and finally to surgical removal of a lump with a biopsy. Lower abdominal pain progressed to a pap and on to a visit with a GYN (hence the Georgia O’Keeffe reference) and colposcopy with biopsies. H.O.L.Y. C.A.T.S. That wasn’t pleasant. Yes…this is probably TMI. However…I tell you these things to illustrate why you should stay current with your routine healthcare and not put it off. Three times, I’ve had things removed that were precancerous. Had I waited longer, it could have crossed over to cancer. Once, I actually had a melanoma but it was in situ which means “contained”. It had not spread beyond it’s own boundaries, thank God.

When we are widowed, or when we are raising children, or…who am I kidding? Women don’t always take care of themselves at any age because they are busy taking care of everyone else. If you have been putting off getting something checked or you’ve looked it up on WebMD and convinced yourself it is nothing, I’m here today to encourage you to get a complete physical. I know it’s a pain in the butt. I know it can turn out to be expensive. It’s important. YOU are important! And…while you are on interminable hold with the doctor’s office to make that appointment, enjoy this painting of…..a flower. ❤️

Just When I thought It Was Allergies

Tue, 28 Aug 2018 01:30:14 -0600

just when I thought it was allergies…it’s a cold.

“Let all that I am praise the Lord; may I never forget the good things he does for me. He forgives all my sins and heals all my diseases.” Psalms 103:2-3 NLT

My “allergies” turned into a full fledged cold yesterday. That didn’t stop me. We had to pick up two loads of my “stuff” from my friend Steve’s house and take it out to the farm. We had a chiropractor appointment first. Then a couple of errands. Then picking up the stuff.

When I made the decision to sell my house, downsized 95% of my personal belongings, and move halfway across the country, it had literally whittled my possessions down to what I felt was the bare necessities. When things went south with my aunt on the farm, I needed to leave and couldn’t take my stuff with me. Enter my dear friend, Mr. Steve. His wife and I were friends in school. She passed away not too long before I moved to WV. When Steve learned I didn’t have anyplace to put my stuff, he suggested I leave it in his basement. That was four years ago. He needs his space back. And I need to face another 5% of stuff and figure out if I need it or not.

We spent the better part of yesterday loading up my truck and carting the stuff to the farm. I figure it’s better to have it out there where I have the space to spread out and go through things. I can’t believe I have downsized this much already and I’m still not done. I look at this stuff that I never even thought of over those years. It’s easy to start thinking dumpster.

And, as I finished the second load, I stretched out on grandma’s bed and promptly fell asleep. When I woke up, I had a fever and I officially have a cold. Ugh. Too much to do to be sick. But I will go to sleep without a fight tonight. ❤️

Into the Wilderness

Mon, 20 Aug 2018 01:30:18 -0600

“The wilderness of Colorado offered me a place of solace to grieve.”

“Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.” Matthew 4:1 NIV

When Mr. Virgo died and I went alone into the wilderness and backroads of Colorado for three months, I was often faced with views such as this. Vast expanses of wilderness, as far as the eye could see. I could go days without seeing another soul. It was what my heart needed...to walk alone with God. To seek quiet counsel with my Father who could comfort me like no other. To feel free to express my emotions in ways that could release the pain and anguish without constraint. It was all part of the life-altering experience of loss and healing.

Pastor Justin spoke yesterday of what happened to Jesus after he was baptized. In Matthew, Chapter 4, Jesus had just been baptized and was led by the Holy Spirit into the wilderness. There, he was met by the enemy who tempted him. After fasting for forty days and forty nights, Jesus was hungry. Satan scoffed at him saying, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” To which Jesus answered that man shall not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. The devil led him to a high point and commanded Jesus to jump, saying surely God’s angels would catch him and he would not be harmed. Jesus said, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” Again, the enemy took Jesus to the highest point and offered to give Him all of the kingdoms if He would just bow down and worship him. To which Jesus replied, and I paraphrase here…Get the heck away from me! I will serve only my Father in Heaven!

The Pastor brought up a couple of interesting insights that I want to share with you today. First, Jesus was baptized and received the Holy Spirit in the most remarkable way. When we receive the Spirit, we certain feel it to the depth of our soul. We are instantaneously changed…at a cellular level…into a new creation. When Jesus received the Holy Spirit, the sky literally opened up, and the voice of God declared to all that would hear…”This is my Son, in whom I am well pleased.” That had to be epic for those within hearing range. Then, the Holy Spirit was delivered down from Heaven in the form of a dove and landed on Jesus. Can you imagine watching this taking place?

Then, what was the first thing that happened? Did Jesus get up and say, “Wow…I feel different now.” Did he walk into favor and blessings and immediately start healing people? No. He was led, by the Holy Spirit, into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.

This is where we go as well. When we first accept Christ as our Savior, we don’t strut around like we’ve just won Best Actor. We don’t get showered with “super blessings” and everything becomes right in our world. If this is what happened to you, you might want to look back at the sincerity of your proclamation, because what really happens is…we are led into the wilderness. And we are bombarded by the enemy. He tempts us. He lies. He kills. He destroys. We may be bewildered by this because no one told us things were probably going to get mighty difficult when we choose this particular path. Because Satan is threatened by your faith. He hates it. He is jealous. He wants to whisper in your ear and fill you with doubt. We need to do what Jesus did…tell the devil to get away from you. You aren’t having any of this.

Pastor Justin pointed out…this temptation is a lie. The enemy is tempting you with things you already have. He may tempt you by causing your eye to wander to another when you already have a spouse at home. He may make you envy your neighbor they’re big fancy house when you already have a house of your own. He is offering you things you already have because he doesn’t have anything real to offer you. His offer is death.

When I look back at the challenges of the last several years, I see so many moments when I could have chucked it all in, but I stayed the course. Because, you never know when the blessing will come. There have been times in this writing journey that I have asked myself if it is worth it to keep going. Have I already said everything there is to say? Is it making a difference to anyone? It can be tiring. It can be frustrating. I sometimes struggle for a topic. But I listen for the still, small voice. And today, it spoke to me through a reader. In my Sunday Evening Prayer Circle, a reader told me she was praying for me and my ministry here. She said that my words have helped her and made a difference in her life. I’m not saying this to boast. I am saying this to praise the Holy Spirit who moved her to answer the question that I lifted up to God just this morning in church.

“Am I doing what You want me to do, Lord?”

The answer was, “Yes.”

Barking Up the Wrong Tree

Sun, 12 Aug 2018 01:30:30 -0600

“Messages from others have more to do with THEM than it does with YOU.”

“Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬ [bible.com/111/pro.3...](http://bible.com/111/pro.3.3.niv)

We have discussed this topic before, but there are so many new widows here now, I felt it deserved a reprise. It may be timely for some.

A week before the first “angelversary” of my husband’s death, I receive a text from someone close in his family.

My first thought was, “How nice. He knows it’s been almost a year and he’s writing to tell me he’s thinking of me.”

I opened the text and began to read. It was soon quite apparent this message was not one of condolence…or remembrance. No, this was something entirely different.

The text was regarding a story I had written in my blog about Mr. Virgo’s military record. This family member told me that Mr. Virgo had certainly NOT accomplished what he said he had. He was no war hero. He had been nothing more than a clerk in the Army and it was his father who had actually been the hero. He named about three things in the story I had written that he swore were untrue and maybe I should just keep the family stories out of my blog, you know…to keep my husband from being the laughing stock of his family and friends. He said the family always knew him to be prone to hyperbole, but they loved him in spite of it.

I was stunned. At first I was hurt. Then I was angry.

I waited three days before I responded. I’ve always found it’s a good idea to sit back and think about things before I jump in and perhaps say something I might regret later.

When I had thought carefully about my response, I wrote back. I told this family member that I was initially taken aback by his text. I said my husband had never given me any reason to doubt the veracity of his words or stories. Sure, he might have shined up a story for dramatic effect, but I had never, ever known him to lie to me. I told him he wasn’t with my husband in Vietnam so there was no way he could actually know exactly what he had done there.

I reminded him how much my husband loved him. How much we had prayed for him when he was ill. I told him I couldn’t understand what kind of person would write to a grieving widow one week before the anniversary of her husband’s death and say something like this. If Mr. Virgo were alive, I can guarantee he would NOT be happy with the way this guy was speaking to me.

The bottom line is this. My complete and total loyalty lies with the man I love. I will defend him, have his back, stand up for him, and fight for him…dead or alive…if I have to. I’m one tough mama bear when it comes to my own.

What kind of person would do this? And what could possibly be the motive? Jealousy? Anger over some past perceived slight? Whatever the reason, it is petty and small and demonstrates what is called “splitting behaviors” in psychological jargon. In other words…trying to cause trouble.

It can happen when there is a death in the family. It can happen with divorce. It can happen when there has been some sort of rift in a family. If it happens to you, I want to you remember one thing…

What this person says or does to you has absolutely NOTHING to do with you or your loved one. It has absolutely EVERYTHING to do with who this person is as a human and where he or she is in their own journey. You must not take it personally. When I first read that text, I couldn’t understand why he was saying these things to me. If his motive was to make me doubt my man, let me tell you…he was barking up the wrong tree. And, it’s just as true with Mr. FixIt today as it was with Mr. Virgo. I don’t need people like that in my life. People who try to stir up trouble. Who try to drive a wedge between me and the one I love and make me have doubts.

This was a valuable lesson for me that I learned in my grief. One of those things I’ll take forward and use throughout the rest of my life. I don’t have the time nor the inclination to involve myself in that kind of petty drama. Life is too short. ❤️

Hindsight 2.0

Thu, 09 Aug 2018 01:30:31 -0600

“Daughter #2 with her Great Grandmother that she doesn’t remember.”

“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭17:17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When I was visiting Daughter #2 a few weeks ago, she mentioned she was heading to Texas soon with her fiancé for a family reunion. She was in awe that this family was renting a beach house for a week. A large group were gathering from all around the country to play games, comb the beach, and renew the close relationship they enjoy. These reunions were started by a grandmother who wanted her family to really know each other. The younger generation decided to keep the reunions going after grandma’s death for the same reason...to remain connected by more than DNA.

I reminded #2 that I took her to West Virginia as often as I could. We had family reunions, too. But, unfortunately, they all but stopped after the older generation passed away. She didn’t really know my family. That made me sad.

She sent me this photo yesterday and asked me who was with her. I told her it was her Great Grandmother on my dad’s side. I had a strained relationship with my dad. I also had an aunt on his side of the family that I was extremely close to growing up. I emulated her, modeling myself after her beliefs, likes, and dislikes. I thought she walked on water. As an adult, I came to learn I missed out on getting to know some pretty wonderful cousins because I saw the world through someone else’s lens. I’ve since rectified that and gotten closer to my dad’s side of the family. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change my children’s upbringing.

Daughter #2 says, “We just didn’t have that kind of family. We didn’t really DO things together.” That is very true. But that doesn’t mean that going forward, we can’t BE that kind of family. We can change this course and I intend to do so, in whatever means I can. I want my children and grandchildren to really know their aunts and uncles and cousins. So, here’s to family…no matter what that looked like in the past. No matter what it may look like in the future. It is the only one we have. ❤️

Once Upon A Time...

Mon, 06 Aug 2018 01:30:56 -0600

“Your wedding day is your ‘Best Day Ever’. But what about attending weddings when you’re grieving?”

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” ‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Weddings are joyous occasions for family and friends to gather and witness two people joining in a lifelong commitment. Just like baptism is the outward sign of an inward commitment, so is a wedding. Mr. FixIt and I went to his granddaughter’s wedding on Saturday and it was so touching to hear her voice thicken with emotion as they said their vows. Toasts were given, tears of joy were shed, as well as tears of sorrow as the bride’s step-father passed away unexpectedly last summer. My heart went out to her mom...his widow...my sweetheart’s only daughter.

There have been times when a wedding cut me off at the knees. After a painful divorce many years ago, a wedding was a slap in the face…a reminder that my marriage had failed. My second to do so, actually. Then, after losing Mr. Virgo, it was a stab in my heart…a huge neon sign that read “You are a WIDOW!” Which, translated meant…”You are not married anymore!” That’s not really true…yet it is. It’s a heck of a place to be in your head.

I distinctly remember riding a city bus one time after my second marriage ended. There was a couple on the bus…sitting close, holding hands, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes. I wanted to literally get up out of my seat and go slap them. After losing Mr. Virgo, my response was different. I wanted to tell every single person who was in a relationship to CHERISH EVERY MINUTE!!! I wanted to lecture them of the sin of taking their person for granted…for not appreciating every single thing, every word, every action the other did.

Attending a wedding when you are grieving, no matter what the cause, may be difficult. If you feel you just aren’t up to it, then by all means decline. I’m sure most people will understand. If the wedding is for a close family member or friend and you feel you need to go, pace yourself. Take breaks for a bit of fresh air or to go to the powder room. Hopefully, the bride has extended a “plus one” invitation and you can bring a friend for support. (I always encourage brides to extend a “plus one” invitation for widows/widowers as a courtesy. We sometimes need that extra boost of confidence a friend can provide.)

I am grateful to have come through that and can now attend a wedding…happy for the newlyweds. I can remember the past with less pain and more love. It is such a blessed relief to be in this place of peace. That being said…I was immensely relieved the bride and groom did not choose “At Last” for their first dance. ❤️

Afternoon Walkabout

Fri, 03 Aug 2018 01:30:25 -0600

“Hooded Warbler”

“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!” Luke 12:27-28 NIV

Mr. FixIt and I decided to walk up the road yesterday afternoon before we headed home from the farm. The heavy truck traffic from the gas pipeline construction has eased up slightly and the road repair crew had moved back toward the bridge, so walking was a little safer and more enjoyable. I was particularly interested in a mulberry tree down the road. I wanted to check if the berries were ripening so I could make some jam and jelly. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single mulberry on the tree. Last year at this time is was loaded so the only thing I can figure is the late freezes this spring got them.

Just as we headed out for our walk, this beautiful Hooded Warbler darted into the spicebush next to the porch. I have never seen one and had to look it up to find out what it was. What a beauty…and such a sweet little song it sings.

The photos, in order:

“Cicada”

As we walked along, I scanned the roadsides for interesting things to photograph. A cicada caught my eye, as did this black and yellow millipede. Creepy crawlies, to be sure. According to projectnoah.org, “Some millipedes emit liquid secretions of hydrogen cyanide gas through microscopic pores, so always wash your hands after handling.” Yeah…like I’m going to be picking THAT thing up! ?

“Flat Backed Millipede”

This is the most I’ve revealed of Mr. FixIt. Six-foot-one and sweet as can be. I love this guy! ❤

“Mr. FixIt…ooooh, I love this guy!”

When Daughter #1 brought her future husband to West Virginia to meet the family, we stayed in this sweet little cabin up the road from the farm. It is owned by my mother’s cousin. My aunt called it “Jack-in-the-Pulpit Inn” because of all the wildflowers around.

“Jack-in-tha-Pulpit Inn”…an old log cabin down the road from the farm.”

Goldenrod or Ragweed made my grandpa sneeze like crazy. He just hated when it came in bloom, but they are so pretty alongside the roadways.

“Goldenrod”

Queen Anne’s Lace is one of my favorite wildflowers. If you look closely, you can see the “Queen’s Heart” in the center.

“Queen Anne’s Lace”

I have no idea what this little butterfly is. I spend about ten minutes trying to find out and gave up. Anyone know?

“Little Brown and Orange Butterfly”

This one I know…it’s a Tiger Swallowtail.

“Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly”

Ahhhh, sweet Honeysuckle vines. When its hot in June, you can smell this from a mile away on a warm summer night.

“Honeysuckle”

This little guy is a Red-Spotted Purple. People often mistake these for swallowtails, but as you can see…no “tail”.

“Red-Spotted Purple”

These last two pictures show the damage to our road from all the heavy equipment running up and down the road all day long. I will be so glad when they get this pipeline and compressor station completed and the pipe liners move on down south.

“Road damage from gas pipeline equipment,”

“Deep grooves in the asphalt from six-axle loads of rock.”

Walkabouts are fun on the farm, and I truly love sharing the beauty with you all. It’s Friday! I hope you are going to do lots of fun things this weekend. Mr. FixIt’s granddaughter is getting married tomorrow so this is a BIG weekend for us. ❤

Feeling Peaceful

Sun, 29 Jul 2018 01:30:15 -0600

“Finding peace after losing Mr. Virgo is deeper and sweeter than anything I could have imagined.”

“Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you.” ‭‭2 Thessalonians‬ ‭3:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

As I sat thinking over what I would write about for today’s post, the word “peaceful” kept playing over and over in my mind. It made me think of this photograph that I took when I was living on high ground overlooking the Ohio River three years ago. I was blessed with the opportunity to park my camper up there and would often sit on the deck overlooking this amazing, peaceful scene. On this particular evening, the light was perfect, the sky was stunning, and everything took on a soft glow as the sun was setting. I will never forget my time spent in this beauty as I healed from the grief of losing Mr. Virgo. It was a time of testing my mettle, as well. I found inner strength I never knew I had as I lived in that camper through a particularly rough winter with no running water and up to a foot-and-a-half of snow at times.

I look back on that period of my life and compare it to where I am today and it never ceases to amaze me how different things are now. I have the privilege of caretaking for the family farm. I have this wonderful man in my life who brings me joy every day. I have the ability to travel to see my Colorado family. I have my campers. I still own too much “stuff” but I’m happy with my life as it is.

The other evening, Mr. FixIt and I were floating around in the pool, holding hands, watching the clouds in the evening sky, listening to the sounds as the night birds and insects began their chorus. He turned to me and said, “This. This right here is perfect.” I knew what he meant. We’ve both longed for this peaceful life and love. We both feel like we’ve won the lottery.

I could have written about grief last night. I could have written about camping or travel or gardening. I could have written about Colorado or West Virginia or any of the numerous places I’ve been. But, for some reason, all those things seemed to pale against this overwhelming love and peace I’ve been feeling since I got home from my trip out west. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Being away from Mr. FixIt for three weeks brought into sharp focus just how wonderful our life is together. I love my children and grandchildren and the rest of my Colorado family and friends. But, oh my…there really is no place like “home”. ❤

Am I a Senior Citizen?

Sat, 28 Jul 2018 01:30:07 -0600

“7 Tips for Seniors. Am I a SENIOR???”

“Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭71:9‬ ‭NIV‬

Ok, I turned 65 in June. No big deal. Got my Medicare card, which is UBER cool. I get discounts (when I remember to ask for them). But that’s the thing...I don’t remember to ask for them. Because, I’m NOT a senior citizen. How could that be remotely possible?

Oh, but it is. I looked it up. Google says…in many different places…that you reach senior citizen status when you turn 65. It’s pretty standard because that’s when you start receiving Medicare benefits. At least, for now you do. Uncertainty aside, I rebel at that “senior citizen” label. That’s for “old” people. Right? That’s what I used to think, anyway.

I saw this chart on Facebook yesterday. It’s all about staying safe in the summer heat. I have noticed over the last few years, my tolerance for heat has been drastically reduced. I also found out that once you have had an episode of heat exhaustion or heat stroke, you are much more susceptible with each recurrent heat exposure. I don’t like this. I used to work outside for hours…gardening, hiking, biking. Nowadays, I’m running for the air conditioning when the temp gets up to 80. And then, ten minutes later, I’m putting on a sweatshirt.

I remember my grandma sitting down to eat supper and fanning herself with her apron…yelling for someone to open the front door. Ten minutes later, someone had to get up to close it. Over and over. We just don’t regulate our body heat like we used to. And that’s kind of hard to admit when you truly feel 35 in your brain.

The thing is…and I don’t know if this is power of suggestion or not…I’ve felt my age more since this last birthday than I have any previous ones. I’m sure part of that is caused by catching up with medical procedures that I have been putting off till Medicare started so I didn’t have to pay a huge deductible. I’ve had mammograms and biopsies and surgery and a CT scan. I’m getting ready to see a gastroenterologist and a dermatologist. Oy! That’s enough to make anyone feel “older”.

So, I guess I’ll cut myself some slack. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends for a long time. I’ve had to focus on health issues for a little bit. I’m sure when I’m caught up and I don’t feel like I’m going to the doctor every week, things will settle down. In the meantime, I have to admit…I’m 65. There really ARE things I have to pay attention to that I didn’t have to when I was younger. But I’m not “old”…I’m aging positively. I’m aging intelligently. I’m becoming informed. And…I get a senior discount. Go ME!!! ❤️

The Empty Vessel

Sat, 21 Jul 2018 01:30:12 -0600

“Lord, Fill my Vessel.”

“The wife of a man from the company of the prophets cried out to Elisha, “Your servant my husband is dead, and you know that he revered the Lord. But now his creditor is coming to take my two boys as his slaves.” Elisha replied to her, “How can I help you? Tell me, what do you have in your house?” “Your servant has nothing there at all,” she said, “except a small jar of olive oil.” Then go inside and shut the door behind you and your sons. Pour oil into all the jars, and as each is filled, put it to one side.” She left him and shut the door behind her and her sons. They brought the jars to her and she kept pouring. When all the jars were full, she said to her son, “Bring me another one.” But he replied, “There is not a jar left.” Then the oil stopped flowing. She went and told the man of God, and he said, “Go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left.”” ‭‭2 Kings‬ ‭4:1-2, 4-7‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When I am on the road, I really miss my home church. I go to churches wherever I am traveling, but it’s just not the same. Fortunately, our church has an app and all of our sermons are posted on it. They come out on Tuesday so I have to wait a couple of days. But they are always worth the wait.

I spent a lay-low day yesterday icing my knee. I want it to get better quickly so I didn’t really do anything but read and catch up with my sermons. Pastor Justin preached from 2 Kings a couple of weeks ago and I wanted to share with you what I learned from his message.

In 1 Kings 4:1-7, a widow cries out to Elisha and tells him her husband died leaving her in debt with two sons to care for. Elisha asked her what she had in her house and she replied nothing but a small vial of olive oil. Elisha instructs her to go to her neighbors all around and get as many empty vessels as she could. Her sons went all over the neighborhood bringing her vessel after vessel. When she had the vessels, Elisha instructed her to go in the house and shut the door, take the vial of oil and pour it into the vessels, setting them aside as each one was filled. When she had finished filling all the vessels, she asked her sons for another and they told her there were no more. And the oil stopped flowing. Elisha instructed her to go sell the oil to pay off her debts and keep the remaining money for herself and her sons.

Pastor Justin tells us in the message, we are like these vessels. We need to come to God to be filled. But so many of us come to Him already full. Full of worry and anxiety. Full of addictions. Full of “self fulfillment”. There is still a little room around all the pieces for oil, but we can’t get our full portion from God until we come to Him empty…as empty as the vessels the widow filled with the miraculous flow.

God will fill us to the brim with all we need, but it isn’t His intent for us to fill up then walk away and say, “Ok, I got my portion. I’m full…I don’t need you anymore.” He fills US full so we may pour God’s love out on OTHERS. It’s a never ending process. We get filled up so we can get empty so we can get filled up…over and over and over.

This world needs all the love it can get. I truly try not to get wrapped up in the news and at the same time be an informed, concerned, responsible citizen. It isn’t easy. I just have to remember to dump the rocks out of my vessel and get filled with the full portion of what God has for me. I have to close my ears to the whispers of the enemy when he tells me lies. I have to lean in, close, to hear the intimate whispers of the Holy Spirit who speaks life into my heart. Then, and only then, can I get filled with the good stuff…the God stuff. ❤️

A Gal About Town - Part Two

Thu, 19 Jul 2018 01:30:41 -0600

“Michelle uses livestock tanks as elevated garden containers.”

“and he has filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills— to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood and to engage in all kinds of artistic crafts.” ‭‭Exodus‬ ‭35:31-33‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Yesterday’s post didn’t have very many pictures to illustrate my descriptions of Michelle’s lovely home. Michelle was kind enough to send me several photos so I could run a “Part Two” of A Gal About Town.

“A faux wall hides an unsightly electric box. It is adorned with a salvaged window and shutters from the family farm in Kansas.”

She and I have decided we could give Joanna and Chip Gaines a run for their Magnolia money if we, too, had an adequate staff and unlimited resources!

“A repurposed farm table and vintage metal chairs creates an outdoor dining space underneath a string of market lights.”

Isn’t this backyard oasis inviting? We sat out here for hours till the sun started to set and the overhead strings of market lights turned on automatically.

“Repurposed materials adds visual interest to a garage makeover.”

“Even the ceiling gets a makeover to hide extra storage.”

“An antique refrigerator doubles as winter boot storage.”

And who wouldn’t want this gorgeous garage remodel that created a unique “maker space” for the ever creative Michelle? Architectural salvage pieces mixed with family heirlooms make for an eclectic view.

“Antiques perched atop a modern refrigerator and freezer.”

“Stunning “maker space” in Michelle’s garage.

To top it off, we get the name of the wonderful olives we nibbled on as dinner was cooking. We drank “mocktails”…non-alcoholic concoctions made with coconut water mixed with the juice of a whole lime. Next time I’m asking for salt on the rim!

“The BEST olives!”

I hope you enjoy the added photos Michelle sent me. Several of you asked for more so I created part two of yesterday’s post. ❤️

Your Difference is Your Beauty

Sun, 15 Jul 2018 01:30:58 -0600

“Your DIFFERENCE is your BEAUTY.”

“But the Lord said to Samuel, "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart."” ‭‭1 Samuel‬ ‭16:7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I came to the mountains yesterday to visit my brother and some friends one more time before I go back to West Virginia. The rest of my visit is booked with the Denver family, so this is my last trip here for a while.

The traffic coming out of Denver was terrible. It seems everyone and their brother had the same idea to head to the mountains for the weekend and a normally three hour trip took four-and-a-half. Seriously though, if you have to get stuck in traffic somewhere, I can think of far worse places than the middle of the Rockies. I had my praise music cranked up and sat staring at the beauty all around me and my heart was full.

When I arrived in Glenwood Springs, I turned onto 8th Avenue and the first parking spot opened up. I smiled and thought of my dad’s second wife. Whenever we drove someplace and a parking space opened right when we got there she said, “Thank you, Lord.” I did the same. I wandered around the downtown area and saw some people I have known for years, having lived in the area from 1986 to 2014. I browsed the little shops. I ran into a friend who recently lost her husband and finally got to give her that big hug I’ve been wanting to share.

I was looking for a dress for Mr. FixIt’s granddaughter’s wedding in August, but couldn’t find anything I liked. So I wandered down the street to one of my favorite restaurants…a little Cajun place with great jambalaya and beignets. My wait person arrived and took my order. This was a person whose gender is ill defined. Delightful, friendly, efficient, attentive and…different. I have a daughter who is outside of a binary gender identification. Her pronoun is feminine. Sometimes her look is, too. And sometimes it is not. She has always been unique.

As I watched my waitperson, I thought about this small town and how difficult it was just fifteen years ago to be different than the other kids. My daughter suffered terribly at the hands of bullies. Today, I believe those kids who were marginalized in the past are being embraced more readily by their peers.

Delightfully stuffed, I figured in a generous tip and wrote the following on the receipt.

“Your difference is your beauty. I hope you have a wonderful day! ❤”

You never know whose life you may touch when you are out and about. Whether you agree with a person’s lifestyle or not, always choose kindness.

❤

The Pillar of Truth

Thu, 12 Jul 2018 01:30:02 -0600

“The Legend if the Pillar of Truth”

“Now, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1 KJV

Once upon a time, in a beautiful palace in Heaven, the was a crystal pillar resting on a stand. It was The Pillar of Truth. There were no flaws within this crystal and every angle reflected the perfect truth to its observers. This was a cherished object in Heaven. There were a band of angels whose job it was to polish this stunning pillar til it glistened in the sunlight that filtered into the palace.

On occasion, a novice pillar polisher would be needed and some young angel would get the opportunity to become an apprentice. This was a great honor, as all of the truth was held within this stone. The angels took their assignment quite seriously.

One day, a new novice crept into the pillar room to gaze upon the glorious piece. She couldn’t get enough of it during the long hours of polishing so she had to come in alone while the other angels were sleeping. As she stared into the depths of the crystal, she felt she could literally reach inside and learn vast, great things. She reached out and placed her hand on the cold surface and could feel the energy within. She was mesmerized. When she finally pulled her hand away, she could see a distinct smudge on the surface and she was appalled. She whipped out her polishing cloth and rushed forward to wipe away the mess she had made.

As the little angel plunged forward, her toe caught on the hem of her robe and she stumbled into the pillar. It rocked and tipped. She stood there and held her breath, hoping it would right itself, but instead…the great Pillar of Truth tipped over, crashing onto the marble floor into a million gazillion tiny slivers. Oh! What ever was she going to do? Surely the sound of the great crash would bring the other angels running in any minute! She ran to the closet and grabbed a large broom and began to sweep the tiny shards out the door of the palace where they fell onto the surface of a cloud.

As the slivers built up within the cloud, moisture began to gather on them and just as the last dustpan full of shards were dropped onto the cloud, a great strike of lightning and clap of thunder resounded throughout Heaven and a heavy rain began to shower earth.

As the rain came down, everyone on earth came out to look in awe, because every drop of rain held a rainbow…a prism of light reflected off the tiny slivers of The Pillar of Truth. They held their faces up to the warm rain and when they did so, the tiny shards from the pillar pierced their eyes. They felt no pain, but they knew something was different. They knew, without a shadow of a doubt that what they saw, what they knew, what they had learned, and what they believed was THE truth. The ONLY truth

And this is how it happened that people all over the world, in every walk of life, in every faith, with every dogma came to believe that their way was the ONLY way. That others were wrong if they believed differently. This perceived “truth” fractured the world and caused deep rifts between the many factions of society.

I am a Christian. This is how I identify. I love the Lord. I follow Him as best I can. I know I will differ with some. There are many paths in this world. I choose the one with Jesus. I am willing to share mine. I am willing to learn of yours. And, I will not ever tell you you are wrong and only I am right. As far as I know, there has not been a team of investigative journalists go to Heaven, document how it all works, and come back with the evidence. For me, personally…I have faith that there is a Heaven. I believe Hell is the complete absence of God…a place I have been and never wish to return to.

Every branch of Christianity, every walk of faith thinks their way is the only way. They all have a shard from The Pillar of Truth in their eye. What is the exact answer? This is where faith come in. ❤

It’s Popsicle Time!

Wed, 27 Jun 2018 01:30:05 -0600

“There’s nothing more soothing than a Popsicle when you are recovering from surgery!”

“For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord...'” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭30:17‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I cannot remember a time in my life that didn’t include Popsicles. One of my earliest memories is my mom breaking a twin pop to share with my brother on a hot summer day. Orange was always my favorite, but grape runs a close second. Or is it cherry? I never liked banana. Other than that, it was fair game.

As I was recuperating from this surgery, some things became apparent to me. The last time I had surgery was in 1999 when I had my sinuses done. Not a pleasant surgery with nasal splints and sleeping sitting up in a recliner. But still, I was 46. It was a relative walk in the park. As we…ummmm, “ripen”…we don’t bounce back quite as fast as we used to. Anesthesia and 3-4 Vicodin over a 24 hour period and I was toast. The pain was well-controlled, but I just hate the feeling narcotics gives me so I switched to Tylenol. Everything was going along pretty well, except I was really tired. Then, Monday night the pain hit. A burning, stabbing pain deep in the area where the tumor was removed kept me awake all night. I finally drifted off around 5:00am and slept a couple of hours.

As I lay there awake, I read the Bible, did my devotionals, caught up with everyone on Facebook, chatted with my son-in-law’s mom in the middle of the night, and Googled “pain after excisional biopsy of the breast”. It seems to be pretty normal to get to the fourth or fifth day and start feeling some pretty significant twinges in the surgical area. For one thing, all the numbing and anesthesia is completely gone. Things are starting to knit back together and that means some nerve pain as you heal. The area where my tumor was is directly behind the nipple and that is some pretty tender territory. Remember nursing? That little baby latching on with jaws of steel could send you through the roof. Imagine getting sliced and diced in that general area and no sweet baby to distract you.

I gave up trying to sleep and headed to town with Mr. FixIt for several errands. When we were finished, we went to the farm so he could finish mowing. I spoke with my uncle on Monday and he and my aunt (his and my mom’s sister) are coming Thursday for an overnight visit. I needed to get the house in tip top shape for company so I spent the afternoon fixing up the three beds with fresh sheets, airing out the house, and sweeping up a winter’s worth of dead Asian Lady Bugs in the upstairs bedrooms. I washed bedding and fluffed and primped everything to perfection. I’m really looking forward to them coming and staying the night. It’s my first family company since I took over the caretaking duties at the farm. This is the aunt who lived at the farm for years and it is her first visit back since she went to live with her brother. I want her to enjoy it and feel pampered.

I’ll make them some yummy treats for Thursday. His favorite is yellow cake with penuche frosting. Hers is butterscotch pie. I’m so excited to see them! We’ll drive up the new road behind the farm that goes out to the compressor station they are building. That might be bittersweet for them. I know it is for me.

And now, the news we have all been waiting for. I received my biopsy report yesterday. The tumor was indeed a fibroadenoma. It is the most common benign breast mass. Benign = NOT CANCER! The other day I was talking about when I was prayed over and anointed. And it turns out to be benign. I want to point out something. Yes, God can still heal. He can perform miracles. AND…there are plenty of wonderful, GOOD Christians who pray faithfully and they still get cancer. Cancer doesn’t play favorites. It doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if you are rich or poor, black or white or any other color of the rainbow. It doesn’t care if you’re a Christian or a Jew or a Muslim or an atheist. It doesn’t care. Something triggers cells to multiply abnormally. It’s as simple as that. My faith tells me God can answer prayers. And sometimes…unfortunately…the answer is no and a bad diagnosis comes. It is one of the horrible thieves that rob us of life and health. I am very grateful that my (and your) prayers were answered in a positive way. Thank you so much for caring. Now I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Just rest and heal and head to Colorado in a week!!! ❤

Killing the Spider

Tue, 26 Jun 2018 01:30:01 -0600

“In that day you will ask nothing of me. Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.” ‭‭John‬ ‭16:23-24‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I used to hear “Wouldn’t it be awesome if people wouldn’t leave their houses without their Bibles like they worry about forgetting their cellphones?” Now, unless you have a phone from the stone ages, you can download the Bible app and have it with you wherever you go.

I had the app on my phone for a long time before I regularly used it. I guess I sort of thought I would absorb it by osmosis or something. But, like taking a necessary medication, it doesn’t work if you leave it on the shelf. You have to do your part and read.

Along with the Bible app comes a feature that allows you to participate in devotionals. You can gather groups to do these devotionals with you. My small group at church does this together. It’s nice having a sense of community and having some accountability to study the Word every day. I actually participate in several devotionals. One I really enjoy comes by e-mail from the Proverbs 31 Ministry. Yesterday morning, I received one written by Carlos Whittaker entitled “Kill the Spider”. Carlos was about to attend a weeklong “therapy” session but told his dad he was going on a “retreat”. It sounded gentler. His father, being a minister, said he wanted to tell him a story. He had once held a week long Revival in Panama. A woman came forward, painstakingly slow, and asked that he pray to have the cobwebs removed from her life. He prayed fervently for her. The next night, the same woman came forward, a bit more energetically, and requested the same prayer. Hesitating, he did so. By the third night, the woman was much improved, but again, asked for the cobwebs to be removed from her life. He stopped and said, “I think we are praying for the wrong thing.” He bowed his head and said, “Lord, please come kill the spider that is creating cobwebs in this woman’s life!”

What a wonderful lesson this was. We all have cobwebs. We all have spiders. It doesn’t make any sense to pray for the removal of the cobwebs…the after effects of the spiders in our lives. We must eradicate the spiders…those people and circumstances that are causing the problems we have to clean up after. Sometimes we just have to clean house and get rid of the spiders. I shared this with a couple of my friends yesterday who remarked that sometimes they have tarantulas! So true!

What spiders are filling your lives with cobwebs today? Do you want to keep sweeping out the corners, or are you ready to kill the spider? As Carlos reminds us, we have the same power within us that rolled away the stone. Draw on that power. Believe in that power and it is amazing what changes God can bring about in your life. ❤

The Difference in One Letter

Mon, 25 Jun 2018 01:30:42 -0600

“Your focus will dictate how you fare in this life.”

“The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭138:8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Medication.

Meditation.

The difference is in the focus. Where we put our energy. Where we let our thoughts go. What we believe will work.

I opted for the “quick fix” back in the day. I had an inordinate amount of trust in doctors and Western Medicine. I trusted in the diagnosis. I was younger. More naive. I craved escape. I was afraid. Of everything…life, love, and losing it all. And, consequently…I nearly did.

When we are faced with life’s troubles, we have choices. We can run and hide. We can deny and bargain. We can grit our teeth. We can escape in the clouds of drugs and alcohol. Or, we can face the truth, stand as tall as we can, and surrender to a higher power than ourselves.

Control. Oh, we do so want control, don’t we? We want to control the process. We want to control the outcome. We want to control the pain. But we don’t really have the control when it comes to circumstances. It’s life. It’s messy. It’s sometimes hard. It’s oftentimes more beautiful than we have words to describe.

I remember when I first started recovering from the overdose and subsequent divorce. I bought self-help books. I was confused by terms like “boundaries” and “values”. I questioned my purpose in life. I struggled along for four years trying to get a handle on how to be a “normal”, functioning adult. Then my mom died and I turned from the self-help section to God. I was obviously not helping myself very well. I needed help from the Master. I bought The Purpose Driven Life and things started to change for me. I have come to realize the bottom line is…if you have a pulse, you have a purpose. And if you listen, God will tell you what that purpose is.

I’m being gentle with myself this week. This was NOT a big surgery. I’ve had much, much worse, but I wasn’t sixty-five then. I can’t control my age or my body’s reaction to anesthesia and medication. I can control my response. I can rest and pray and meditate instead of medicate. Each day is better than the one before it. ❤️

Let Freedom Ring!

Sun, 24 Jun 2018 01:30:46 -0600

“Let Freedom Ring!”

“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” ‭‭Galatians‬ ‭5:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I just finished writing July’s post for the Sisters on the Fly blog. I wrote about the many freedoms we are blessed with beyond Independence Day. The audience for that blog is women campers. There is a certain reservation in my writing there as I am paid to do so. Therefore, I am somewhat constrained in my topics. I always check in with them ahead of time, find out what their theme of the month is, and write accordingly. It’s not like this blog where I speak my heart and my truth. So I’ll write the “Marshmallow Ranch” version of that blog here.

Independence Day. The 4th of July is coming soon. Images of family gatherings, cookouts, baseball games, fireworks. That’s what it’s all about, right? Well, yes…and no. In 1776, our forefathers of this nation set forth a document that outlined our beliefs pertaining to our independence from Great Britain. Man made laws that apparently gave us our freedom. However, we were given freedom long, long before this document was drawn up. At least…we were given the choice.

We were given freedom from the weight of our past. Our sins. I am reminded of a weight I used to carry that I finally put down eighteen years ago. In the ‘80s and ‘90s, I had a problem. I was a doctor’s wife and as such, I was highly over treated medically. I was given drugs freely and when I cried out for help, I was stifled. I was given more drugs and more drugs. I took up drinking with a vengeance. I was dying as fast as I could and it wasn’t fast enough so I took two bottles of pills and almost finished the task.

Thank God, I am a different human being now. I got the help I needed. I found the people who listened. And I got away from the situation that sent me down that path. On occasion, I get a reminder of what that life was really like. Case in point…I had surgery on Thursday and was given a narcotic pain reliever. In such a case, I will take these…reluctantly. But, let me tell you…I am EXTREMELY cautious. I do not like how they make me feel. I don’t like the fuzziness. I don’t like the disconnection from my surroundings. I hate the dry mouth and the upset stomach. And I hate the feeling I get when I stop taking them. Even just taking them for 24 hours, I feel a sinking darkness that comes over me. For the life of me, I cannot understand how I could have taken so much of this stuff back in the day. I couldn’t function. I wasn’t participating in life…in the lives of my family. It is just a sad reminder of what we all went through because a referral pattern is a terrible thing to waste. I was a doctor’s wife, after all. His colleagues had to go above and beyond. It was a brutal time.

I will not submit to the yoke of slavery that drugs and alcohol brought into my life. I am judicious in my choices and stand firm in that because quitting was, aside from losing Mr. Virgo, the most difficult thing I ever had to do. Not the quitting itself. I was delivered from that immediately. Navigating the devastation it left behind in my family was where I struggled. It was horrible for everyone involved. I am grateful for this new life…this healing I was given when I gave up and asked Jesus to take over. I will celebrate my Independence Day as January 6th…the day of my overdose. The day I stepped into the void and came out again. Let freedom ring! ❤

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5:17‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Empty Nest

Sat, 23 Jun 2018 01:30:46 -0600

“The empty nest can be painful, no matter which of you leaves first.”

“For I want you to know how great a struggle I have for you and for those at Laodicea and for all who have not seen me face to face, that their hearts may be encouraged, being knit together in love, to reach all the riches of full assurance of understanding and the knowledge of God's mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. I say this in order that no one may delude you with plausible arguments. For though I am absent in body, yet I am with you in spirit, rejoicing to see your good order and the firmness of your faith in Christ.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭2:1-5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I got married young the first time. I was nineteen. I thought I knew everything! I was just about finished with x-ray training. Hubby #1 and I literally grew up together. Our families have known each other since long before we were born. The day after graduation, I hopped on a plane and flew to England to join him. He was stationed there in the Air Force. I had never been on a plane before. I cannot imagine what that must have been like for my mom. She still had my brother at home. He has a developmental disability and always lived at home with her, so she never did have that “empty nest”. But I know she missed me terribly and it had to have been so worrisome for her to have me so far away the very first time I left home.

My older daughter got married when she was twenty-one. It wasn’t too long after that when she and her new husband moved to Long Island. I thought THAT was way too far and it just about killed me. I was having trouble in my marriage. Her younger sister was only five years old. I hated having them so far away. I visited as often as I could, but it was a really hard time for both of us. We had always been very close. A half-empty nest is just as painful.

I’ve watched my friends go through letting their children go. When my younger daughter left home for college, it was a different story. First, I had had children at home for thirty-three years. I was in a new marriage and in a much happier space. And, she was only going to be a couple of hours away. It was an entirely different story when the nest emptied out completely.

But what happens when it’s the opposite and it’s your MOM that pulls up roots and leaves? That’s what’s happening to one of my friends in my small group from church. She is young…younger than my Daughter #2. Her brother, her two sisters, her nephew, and her mom are moving several states away and she is left here. In addition to that, they are selling the only home she has ever known. Her nest is being taken away. That has to be really hard. You just never think of it happening like this. It’s usually the other way around.

I always made it a point to go visit my West Virginia family at least once a year. I took my kids with me so they could feel that bond of family. I never dreamed I would up and leave my Colorado family like I have. Colorado was never really the home of my heart. West Virginia is. I usually visit my family twice a year but Mr. FixIt’s surgery in December kept me here this past winter. The grandchildren have grown so much in the past year since I’ve seen them. It seems like a lifetime ago. And my girls have aged…as have I. I remember there was a stretch of time when Hubby #2 was in medical school that I didn’t see my mom for over two years. I never want to do that with my family! I can’t imagine. She had to have been so sad.

Keeping those family bonds alive is so important. I’ll be there in a couple of weeks and stay for three weeks. I can’t wait to see them! Do you live far from your family? Do you get to see them very often? How long do you get to visit? I’d love to hear the things you do that make your visits extra special. I am always looking for new ideas to create lasting memories! ❤

Thank You, God!

Fri, 22 Jun 2018 01:30:07 -0600

“Ice Cream and Miracles!”

“When that day comes, you won’t ask me any more questions. I can guarantee this truth: If you ask the Father for anything in my name, he will give it to you.” ‭‭John‬ ‭16:23‬ ‭GW‬‬

The doctor came in and said all the worrisome tissue was removed and from his experience, he was sure the tumor is benign. No lifting or raising my arms for a few days. No shower for 48 hours then just gentle cleansing for two weeks. The skin was closed with SuperGlue with dissolving stitches in the layers below. No riding mower, pool, or hot tub for two weeks. I have to wear a tight sports bra for support and compression for the next few weeks.

On the way home, there was a terribly hard rain with localized flooding. We went north to take the interstate and avoid the flooded roads in town. As soon as we pulled on the highway, it started raining so hard the windshield wipers could not keep up. There were cars pulled off with their flashers on. We turned ours on and crept along. I grabbed the cross I have hanging in the truck and said, “Jesus! Take this storm away!!!” I kid you not, we didn’t drive fifty more feet and the sky immediately lightened up and the rain nearly stopped!

We stopped on the way home and bought ice cream. The surgeon told me he had injected the surgical site with lidocaine so it wouldn’t smack me with pain when I first woke up. By the time we got home it was wearing off, so I ate my ice cream, took a pain pill, and went to bed. The pathology report will be back by the middle of next week then I follow up with the surgeon a couple of days before I head to Colorado.

When we got home, there was NO water in the basement!

Thank you all so much for your love and prayers.

God is SO good!!! ❤️

Flying My Kite

Thu, 21 Jun 2018 01:30:13 -0600

“God is the tail of my kite…He anchors me.”

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭11:1‬ ‭KJV‬‬

When I was a little girl, my daddy always brought me a paper kite at the beginning of summer vacation. It was in a long, narrow plastic sleeve. You got two flat sticks, one long...one shorter...with slots cut in each end. You got a sheet of thin paper and some string. You fastened the two sticks in a cross shape first. Then you stretched your string around from end to end of the sticks, making a kite-shaped frame. You laid the frame on the paper and folded the edges over the string and glued them closed. Once the glue was dried, you attached string loosely from top to bottom and from side to side so you had something to attach the kite to the kite string with. The last thing you did was affix a tail. They didn’t give you this. You usually used some scrap material you had handy. You tore the material into two or three long strips about an inch wide. You cut one or two of the long strips into shorter pieces...maybe 4-5” long. These you tied every 6 inches or so down the long strip. Then you attached that long strip to the bottom of your kite and it became the tail.

Have you ever tried to fly a kite without a tail? You can’t. The wind picks it up then it goes around and around in frantic circles until it crashes down to the ground. My dad taught me you had to have an anchor so your kite would fly high and true.

Life is like that, isn’t it? You need something to anchor you in life or you just go around and around in circles. I spent a lot of my life unanchored. I crashed and crashed and crashed…over and over. I have heard it said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.” If this is true, how many of us are “insane”?

The secret to flying a kite successfully is letting go. You send the kite up in the air till the wind catches it, then you hold on to this little, tiny string. Not too tight…not too loose. You let the string out as the wind lifts the kite higher and higher. The anchor kept the kite upright and steady.

In my life, I found the only logical thing to do was to make God my anchor. It was He who was the most reliable. He wasn’t going anywhere. I had to participate. I had to hold the string and keep a watch on it as best I could. I had to do what I could to steer it from hazards like trees and electrical wires. I had to learn when to let it out, and when to reel it back. But, I had to let go of the tail. I had to let God do His thing so I could fly high and strong.

Today, I am having surgery. It’s not big deal, really. It’s called a “wire-guided excisional biopsy of the right breast”. This lump will be removed and sent to the lab where it will be prepared and observed under a microscope. The pathologist will review the slides and a diagnosis will be given. I am firmly convinced it is benign and we are just exercising an abundance of caution. That being said, no surgery is without risks and I will be getting general anesthesia. I’m not worried though. Because…I understand the risks, I have confidence in my doctors, and I have a really strong tail on my kite. God has this. If it’s good news…awesome. I’m done with it and can get on with my life. If it’s bad news, then God will use whatever comes my way to teach me, mold me, humble me, and remind me to come to Him when things are hard. It really is that simple.

I know this because I have faith. ❤

The Infamous Blueberry Harvest

Wed, 20 Jun 2018 01:30:44 -0600

“The blueberry bush on The Ponderosa.”

“Make no mistake about this: You can never make a fool out of God. Whatever you plant is what you’ll harvest.” ‭‭Galatians‬ ‭6:7‬ ‭GW‬‬

Mr. FixIt has a blueberry bush. I’ve never raised blueberries, nor have I seen a blueberry bush. But, he has one and he’s darned proud of that thing. He’s been babying it for years. He had a cage around it to keep the birds and deer away from his beloved blueberries, but over time, the wood rotted and the gizmo collapsed over the winter. This spring, Mr. FixIt (who happens to be a mechanical engineer) drew up plans for a fool proof contraption to replace it. He decided to use PVC pipe, which is brilliant. It won’t rot or get termites. He took off for the hardware store and came back with everything he needed, including bird netting to put around the whole thing. Sixty-five dollars later, he had this impressive cage build and anchored to the ground. There was NOTHING going to ruin his berry harvest this year.

The first day I came home and saw this thing out in the field, it vaguely resembled a teeny-tiny batting cage. It really stood out with the stark white of the PVC against the lush green backdrop. So, Mr. FixIt went back to the hardware store for green paint for camouflage. It turned out to be John Deere green, but it was a darn sight better than it was before.

We have checked this little bush every week and were thrilled to see the first green berries begin to form. Finally, yesterday…Mr. FixIt announce it was time to harvest the berries! He asked if I wanted to come along and being that I am ever watchful for blog-worthy moments, I trotted along behind him with my camera. He carried the mixing pitcher that I use for making pancakes. I was excited. I bought pie crusts in anticipation.

“Fat blueberries, ready to harvest!”

With great fanfare, Mr. FixIt carefully lifted the cage off the bush so he wouldn’t knock off any berries, and we set to picking. Well…HE set to picking. I documented the event for posterity. He finished and I peeked into the pitcher. There were forty-nine berries. Well, there were fifty, but one was under-ripe so we tossed it. I pulled out my phone and brought up the calculator. $65.00 for the PVC contraption. $5.00 for the paint. 49 berries. That comes out to $1.53 per berry. Not bad. It reminds me of the Great Tomato Harvest of 2010.

“The Great Blueberry Harvest of 2018!”

Mr. Virgo and I decided we wanted to grow tomatoes. We saw those Topsy-Turvy hanging baskets for growing tomatoes and decided that was the perfect thing for the patio of our rental home in Denver. I bought two of them, because…after all…the commercial showed a huge bumper crop and I’m picturing making salsa! I bought two really big tomato plants because Colorado has such a short growing season and I needed a head start. Add a bag of topsoil and you’ve got $75.00 invested in this little gardening project.

My first problem was trying to plant the tomatoes in the containers. The gigantic root ball would not fit in the small opening in the bottom of the Topsy-Turvy thingy so I had to squeeze and mash the roots up to get it to go through. I filled the container with top solid from the top…about a half bag each. Then I hung the whole shebang from two “S” hooks at the edge of the covered patio. I dragged the hose over and gave them a good soaking and went in the house. When Mr. Virgo got home, I told him to go out and look at my handiwork and he called for me to join him. Apparently, when you add multiple gallons of water to half a bag of topsoil and a tomato plant, things get pretty heavy. The “S” hook stretched out and both the plants and the containers were now lying in a muddy mess on the patio.

I picked up the first one and the plant had broken clean off at the roots and wasn’t salvageable. I picked up the second one and half-dragged it out to the old swingset where I wired it up so it wouldn’t fall again. I babied that thing all summer and by the first frost I had….one tomato. My $75 tomato. I could relate to Mr. FixIt’s disappointment.

With thoughts of warm blueberry cobbler and ice cream dissolving right in front of me, I assured Mr. FixIt his berries would taste delicious over our cereal and we will revel in their sweetness. And, we still have a really sturdy blueberry cage to protect NEXT year’s bumper crop! ❤

“What it lacked in volume, it made up for in flavor!”

Knee Deep in June, My Favorite Summer Things...

Tue, 19 Jun 2018 01:30:08 -0600

“My all time favorite summer thing…watermelon!”

“The LORD is responsible for this, and it is amazing for us to see. This is the day the LORD has made. Let’s rejoice and be glad today!” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭118:23-24‬ ‭GW‬‬

#1. Watermelon! OMGosh! When I was pregnant with Daughter #2, I craved watermelon....in January. It’s hard to find good watermelon in the winter but when I did...it was heavenly. I keep looking for the sweetest, juiciest watermelon every year and I have to say, I only get it about two or three times all season. So much of the food I love doesn’t taste like it used to. Partially due to aging taste buds. But I think all this genetic engineering and hybrids have ruined the flavor of so many foods.

#2. Hard rains in the late afternoon leaving the evenings cool and breezy. The added bonus of fog clinging to the hillsides is divine. This was Sunday evening. A perfect ending to Father’s Day…playing in the field with Mr. FixIt’s son and one of his grandchildren.

#3. Camping. I really love being able to just pull up stakes and head for the hills. I’m hoping to get my little ‘67 Franklin fixed up by next summer so those quick getaways are easier.

#4. Visiting my Colorado family. I miss the kids so much. The bigs and the littles. And my brother and friends. It’s hard to be away from them. I’ve never gone this long without seeing them that I can remember. I’ll head west on the Fourth of July!

#5. Floating in the pool. I’ve never had a pool. I’ve had a couple of hot tubs, but that’s totally different. Mr. FixIt has a pool and on days when the heat index has been particularly high, going out there with a cold beverage just after the sun goes over the far ridge is truly divine. We stay out till dark, floating and talking and solving the world’s problems. I will miss this when the snow flies. (The water was 89 degrees. It felt like a bathtub, but it was wet!)

#6. Sitting on the front porch. Mr. FixIt bought me a rocking chair for my birthday. We went back and got a second one so we can set up the front porch now. The porch is covered and there’s nothing like sitting out on a porch while it’s raining in the summertime.

#7. Cookouts. We have only had a couple of cookouts this summer and I am hoping to have more soon. We both love to entertain.

#8. Sleeping with the window open. I sleep with the window open year round, even if it’s just cracked a little bit. I need the air. I love hearing the night sounds…crickets, frogs, the whippoorwill, the occasional fox barking or deer snorting.

#9. The lush, lush green of summer foliage. West Virginia looks like a jungle about now. My grandma used to say every summer at this time…”We are knee deep in June!” And we are. The garden, the flowers, the shade trees, the thick grass…all heavenly to me.

#10. Sun-dried sheets. If you have never had the joy of sleeping on sun-dried sheets, you are honestly missing one of the best things about summer. Nothing smells as good as sheets that have dried in the wind. The summer sun seems to kill any latent bacteria that may be lingering in the fibers and bleaches white sheets till they shine.

The earth holds you close this time of year. The heat, the humidity, the lush green, the smell of freshly cut grass and hay fields, the sweet smell of honeysuckle on a cool evening breeze, the crisp sweetness of summer’s freshest fruit, the feel of clean sheets on dewy skin, the kiss of sun on your face, the splash of freckles across your nose, the wind in your hair driving with the window open, the shock of walking from sweltering heat into air conditioning, the taste of a cold beverage after mowing, the feel of the ground on your bare feet, the sense of adventure when you travel, the crackle of a campfire, the hoot of an owl in the woods nearby. Grief takes all these things away from you. And…one by one…they ease back into your life with an intensity you never noticed before. You never take them for granted again once they return. Summer is truly deep and rich and good. ❤️

“I love how the fog clings to the hills after a hard rain cools us down.”

Drink Coffee...Pray Boldly

Sun, 17 Jun 2018 01:30:55 -0600

“Pray BOLDLY at every opportunity…even at coffee with the girls.”

“If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought. People who “worry their prayers” are like wind-whipped waves. Don’t think you’re going to get anything from the Master that way, adrift at sea, keeping all your options open.” ‭‭James‬ ‭1:5-8‬ ‭MSG‬‬

Yesterday was coffee day with the girls...those magnificent ‘71 Divas from my high school class. We didn’t all know each other in high school. We really became most acquainted through Facebook and efforts to gather as many classmates as possible for class reunions, dinners, picnics, and the like. We are, all to often it seems, meeting at funeral homes anymore. I decided four years ago us gals need to get together and form a tribe...a sense of community of the feminine...when I came back to West Virginia to live. Now, we look at our monthly meetings as caffeine fueled talk therapy and I’ve seldom missed it.

There weren’t as many gals gathered yesterday. Illness, hospitalization, vacations, and general summer business kept many of our regulars away. There were also a few who came that don’t get to attend very often. It’s always a different group but the dynamic is the same. We are there to have fun, let our hair down, laugh a lot, and offer support to one another as we learn what’s new in each other’s lives.

My friend Diane came and brought me one-third of my birthday present. She called the other day and wanted to meet up with me. We had a miscommunication and she ended up waiting for 45 minutes out at the farm and when it got too hot and I didn’t show up, she went home. She had to take my gifts with her…two-thirds of which were perishable. Yesterday, she gave me my card. Imagine my dismay when I learned of the flowers and chocolate covered strawberries she had brought me Wednesday! I felt so awful about that…she went to so much trouble. But, we laughed it off. She gave the flowers to a friend she had dinner with that night and ate the strawberries on the way home so all was not lost!

When the majority of the gals had left for the day, my friend Lisa and I sat and talked to one of our friends who hung behind. She confided that we looked like someone who could help her. She had a prayer request. We talked about it a while, offering advice and comfort. When she asked for prayers, Lisa (you remember her from a previous post a month or two ago) took our friend’s hand and said, “Well, let’s just pray now.” The three of us sat in a very public area of the historic hotel where we gather, held hands and prayed together. Boldly. Unashamed. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even think about it until later.

There was a time in my life when I looked at people praying over their meal in a restaurant or holding hands together in public, praying, and I felt…I don’t know…uncomfortable, self-conscious, embarrassed for them? I was decidedly unenlightened in those days yet I thought I was SO evolved. In the last several years, I have become much bolder with prayer. There is no reason to feel ashamed or embarrassed to offer prayer anytime the Spirit moves you or you are asked. I was really happy to be able to pray with my friends. I always ask God to bring me more prayer opportunities and the bravery to carry them out. It is an honor and a privilege.

Today is Father’s Day. For some of you, it is the first without your loved one and the firsts are hard…and sometimes the third and the tenth and….. Please know that I will pray boldly for you today that you know God is with you to offer comfort and solace in your broken places. You are so loved! ❤

This Man KNOWS How Old I Am

Wed, 13 Jun 2018 01:30:45 -0600

“It’s not how many years in your life…but the life in your years!”

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created.” ‭‭James‬ ‭1:17-18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

So, today is really monumental...huge...a BIG deal in anyone’s life. Today is my 65th birthday! I didn’t know how to feel about it this year. I let myself dwell on the obvious...I’m getting older. I let myself worry about the health issues I’m facing in the coming weeks. I thought about how Mr. Virgo would have SO enjoyed this accomplishment. I thought about how much I miss my Colorado family. I thought about my beautiful mom and how I called her every year on my birthday and thanked her for having me.

All this time, this wonderful man orbited me on a daily basis. Taking care of me. Loving me. Watching to see if there was anything I might need or any way he could support me better. For a couple of weeks, he was eclipsed by the hamster wheel of grief running in my brain. Then the wave was gone…receding into the background again. And I could see every blessing clearly.

Yes…I’m getting older. Isn’t that wonderful??? I’m getting older and bolder and my best days are in front of me. Adventure awaits at every opportunity.

Yes…I have some health issues to deal with in the coming weeks. Isn’t it terrific that I am blessed with great insurance that will take care of the bills so I can focus on healing and getting better after my upcoming surgery instead of worrying about how I’ll pay for it all? Blessings come in dark colored packages sometimes.

Yes…Mr. Virgo would have loved to help me celebrate this one. Wasn’t it terrific that I got to feel such unconditional love from such a great guy?

Yes…I miss my Colorado family. I get to see them in just a few short weeks and I can immerse myself in their sunshine and love. I am so honored to call them mine.

Yes…I miss my mom. She knew how much I loved her because I never failed to tell her at (almost) every opportunity.

And…I am so, so grateful to have the opportunity to love again. To feel the love of a good man. A man who watches out for me and protects me and brings me so much joy.

Mr. FixIt came home from town yesterday and I fixed us a great meal. Then he asked me to go in the other room for a while. He called to me when he was ready and I went out to the deck by the pool. He had these cupcakes with the candles lit and a lovely, sentimental card that he selected with the perfect inscription. And he gave me a beautiful rocking chair for the front porch.

Yes…chronologically, I may be 65 years old today. But this man knows me on the inside. He KNOWS I’m only 35 on the inside. And that is my best earthly gift ever. ❤

The Long Way ‘Round

Tue, 12 Jun 2018 01:30:07 -0600

“This is how we party…lifting up the name of Jesus!”

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5:17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I was so tired Sunday night and didn’t write a post because I went to church twice and spent the afternoon with family. Sunday night, our church celebrated it’s third birthday. They started out with a little over a hundred people and met in an area restaurant. Now there are four services every Sunday and well over 2,000 people who attend. That kind of growth in a church today is unusual. The forward-thinking pastors of our church were given a vision of creating a different kind of church. One where everyone would be welcome. A come-as-you-are kind of place. A church home that greets you at the door with high-fives and holding up signs in the parking lot with messages like “You made it!” and “Come sit with us!”

The Sunday evening service was a true celebration and the volunteers were honored for all their hard work. There was an extended worship and the praise team plays this one song that really gets people up and excited. “This is How We Party” by Equippers Revolution is upbeat and fun and lifts up the name of Jesus. Everyone in the place was up on their feet dancing and joyous, arms stretched up, praising. We ended by taking Communion. I get chill-bumps when I go there.

I had never been to a church like this before. Most of the sermons I ever sat through as a kid had me counting the moments before it was time to get the heck out of there. Therefore, as an adult, I went as far away from Christianity as I could get. I started going to a contemporary church service with my dear friends Bob and Ellie when I became a Christian. There is a particular church in Denver I love as well. But I was concerned when I moved to West Virginia. I wasn’t sure I would find the kind of church I had become accustomed to. And it took a while. I church shopped for over a year before I found this one. I literally stumbled upon it. Or was I led? More likely the latter.

I jumped and danced so much Sunday, I was exhausted. But exhilarated. Too many churches are dying because they do not appeal to the younger generations. This church has a vibrant, well-attended youth ministry. A large portion of the building is dedicated to children’s classes. This is the first time in my life that I have looked forward to going to church every Sunday. I really, really miss it if we can’t get there. I love that church is fun. That I can celebrate my relationship with Jesus surrounded by a loving, supportive church family. I love that every single weekend, the message speaks to me personally. I feel the Holy Spirit move there.

I think of my grandparents and the little white church on the hill. These services aren’t anything like theirs. They truly wouldn’t understand what was happening. You never danced and shouted in church back then save for the occasional well-placed “Amen!” Even with all that, I think my grandma would be so happy that I have become a Christian. I came to Jesus the long way ‘round. I wish she could see the woman I’ve become. My mom, too. I’ll see them someday and tell them all about it. ❤

Here She Comes

Wed, 06 Jun 2018 01:30:11 -0600

“Coming or going…it’s a matter of perspective.”

A friend of ours from high school is laying his wife to rest today. She struggled for quite some time with COPD. There were many times we thought we were going to lose her. She went in the hospital for the last time five long months ago. In and out of ICU. Ups and downs…crisis after crisis…this family held on to every hope that their mom would come home. That his wife of 38 years would again sit by his side. A couple of weeks ago there was a picture on Facebook…she was sitting up. She was eating dinner. She was hugging her kids and grandkids. She was smiling into the camera. Thinner…but recognizable. Tired…but hopeful. She had rallied and again, the hope was raised. But, alas…it wasn’t to be. The last crisis came and she was just worn out. It was too much for her tired body and she went to her heavenly home.

We went to the funeral home yesterday to pay our respects. I hugged our friend close. I told him I knew he was heartbroken. I told him I knew she was just worn out. He knows I’ve walked this path. He knows he can reach out to me if he needs a shoulder…someone who knows.

In the meantime, I’ll write this…these things I wish I’d known. These things I wish someone had told me. These things I have learned. Perhaps he will read them one of these days in the dark of night when he is feeling that deep pain and know…he’s not alone.

To my dear friend…

I want you to know how sorry I am for your loss. You will hear that a lot. You will also hear a lot of other things. You will wonder how on earth people can say things like “She’s in a better place.” or “At least she isn’t suffering.” or “I know what you are going through. My dog died last year.” You don’t need people to tell you such things, but they will. Please remember, they mean well. They haven’t walked this path. They don’t really know. Smile and say thank you and let it go. They don’t mean to cause you pain.

Some people won’t say anything at all and that will hurt even more. It’s not because they don’t care. It’s because they don’t know what to say. They don’t want to hurt you and say the wrong thing…so they say nothing. Try not to take it personally.

Some people who have been your friend forever will disappear. This is the nature of this process. Some people cannot tolerate grief and pain. It hits too close to home for them. Let them go. Wish them well in your heart and turn to those who ARE there for you.

Take your time. Don’t make rash decisions. You are likely having difficulty remembering things. You can’t keep track of time or the sequence of events. You can’t remember who called or who was at the funeral or what you did with those important papers you had just yesterday. Let your loved ones help you. Ask for help when you need it. Keep a notebook with you…in your pocket. Write down who you called and when. Write down the name and number of that person who said “Call me anytime.” Then call…anytime. But rotate your list so you aren’t relying on the same people over and over and over.

Take care of yourself. Try to eat right. Try to get rest. Try to exercise. It’s ok to “mattress surf” once in a while and spend the day in bed with a magazine…but never two in a row. Get up, shower, brush your teeth, and make your bed. You are far less likely to crawl back in if you make it right away. Clean your kitchen sink. It’s amazing what a clean sink can do as far as leading to the next thing. Avoid consuming alcohol or drugs. These might make you feel a little better in the moment, but it will only mask your pain. I don’t suggest jumping into another relationship too fast, either. Give yourself some time.

Unprocessed grief will fester. Let it out. Talk to a trusted friend or family member, clergy person, or a grief therapist. Keeping a journal helps you sort out your feelings.

Grief changes you. You will never be the same person as you were before you lost your wife. But that does not mean there is no hope. There is so much to be hopeful for. Right now all the days are dark and you think you will never feel joy again, but you will, my friend. There will come a time when you think of her and smile instead of feeling that stabbing pain in your heart. There will come a day when you don’t cry. Color will come back into your life. It takes time.

You aren’t alone. You aren’t crazy. You are grieving. It’s normal. Just feel your feelings. I know guys don’t express their feelings like us gals do, but try to let it out. You’ll feel better.

This is a scary, lonely time. You may even feel some sense of relief that it’s over and on the heels of that thought may come guilt and shame. Don’t do that to yourself. You have been traumatized. You have watched things that most of us cannot even imagine. Be gentle with yourself.

Pray. Draw closer to God. Let Him carry your burdens when they are too heavy. Trust me…things will get better. They will get worse before they get better. Grief comes in waves. You’ll be doing better then the waves will catch you. They threaten to drown you but soon you will learn to anticipate them. You will learn to lean into them and know the seas are calmer on the other side.

In the picture above…is the sailboat coming, or going? It is a matter of perspective. We see it going, but Jesus says, “Here she comes.” Trust that. And know…you are loved. ❤

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭34:18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

(Inspired by the poem “Gone From My Sight” by Henry Van Dyke.)

Grace

Mon, 04 Jun 2018 01:30:19 -0600

“Live a life worthy of the calling you have been given.” Ephesians 4:1

My daughters hit the jackpot when they chose their mates. Both well suited for their personalities and life goals. I remember when Daughter #1 was dating her husband twenty-some years ago. He and I ran to the store one day and there was a couple walking ahead of us. They wore black leather and had multiple tattoos and piercings. Their hair was spiked all over. I slipped my hand through my future son-in-law’s arm and said, “Ahhhhh, there but for the grace of God. I’m so happy she chose you.” Then, Daughter #2 became the one with multiple tattoos and weird color hair. I looked down at the “strange” people and my beautiful daughter, who has always danced to her own music, chose a highly unconventional lifestyle. That, my dears, is Karma.

Our guest Pastor yesterday spoke about Grace. Grace is the opposite of Karma. Karma is…you get what you deserve. “What goes around, comes around.” God’s Grace is…”I will look past your flaws and love you AND I will not give you what you truly deserve.” It was an inspiring sermon.

I woke up late yesterday and the thought went through my mind to just skip church. Just turn over and go back to sleep. Have a lazy day. Fix a nice breakfast. Then I read a tweet from a gal I follow. She always has a Morning Munch and Night Owl Nugget…a scripture with a comment. Short and sweet. Yesterday’s tweet was the scripture above. It didn’t shame me. It motivated me. We are called to do great things. We should live a life that is worthy of that calling. I know I feel better when I’ve gone to church. I feel that sense of community. And I always hear exactly what I need to hear in the present moment. Here’s how I know the Holy Spirit speaks to me. Because, the guest speaker spoke on Grace. When he got to the end of his sermon…he spoke these exact words. “Live a life worthy of the calling you have been given.”

Chills.

I love when that happens. When I know exactly when God speaks to me. I’ve been struggling a little the last couple of weeks. I know it’s a grief wave. And, I know it is exacerbated by the fact that I got my Medicare card and my 65th birthday is right around the corner. I’ve also had a few medical things going on that we’re checking out. Nothing serious, I don’t think. But some tests that I’m not looking forward to. It’s life. These things happen. But grief has changed my coping skills. Some are better. Some are worse. Knowing that God was teaching me, in that moment, to live a life that is worthy, not only of the calling I’ve been given, but of the GRACE I’ve been granted.

Some of you write the most lovely comments here. You say things like “You have a way with words.” And, “It’s like you’re in my head. You say what I am thinking and can’t articulate.” I am here to tell you…that is the Grace of God. I am not that talented of a writer. I came so very close to flunking senior English in high school. God has graced me with the words He wants me to say. Everything I have, everything I do…everything I AM is because of the Grace of God. I am alive today because of the Grace of God. I have a beautiful family because of the Grace of God. I found love after loss because of the Grace of God.

“There, but for the Grace of God, go I.” I never want to forget that. ❤

“…live a life worthy of the calling you have received.” ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭4:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Bambi!

Sat, 02 Jun 2018 01:30:49 -0600

“Doe and fawn on the front lawn.”

The quality of this picture is very poor. It was dusk. I was shooting through a window in a dark room. And these two had almost made it to the end of the yard where they ducked into the cover of the trees and bushes. There is a small creek running just on the other side of them so I imagine they were heading for a drink. The only thing that worried us is up above them beyond those trees is a fairly busy highway. I always say a prayer when I see them go up that bank. I’d hate to hear or see one of these beautiful creatures get hit. The cars race by on that road.

Mr. FixIt has lived here for decades and said he had never seen such a tiny baby up walking around. We were sitting in the dining room playing cards after dinner when we spotted them. At the same time, we kept hearing a soft “whump-whump-whump” sound coming from the fireplace followed by high pitched chirping. It confirmed what we noticed the other night at dusk when we were out at the pool. There are swallows nesting in the chimney. We could see them at dusk diving down into the top of the chimney. I don’t know why there isn’t a screen over it. We also noticed as we walked into the dining room where the fireplace is, there was a smell of something burnt. They are stirring up the soot and ash inside the chimney. We have the glass doors and the flue closed so they don’t make a mess in the house but this is just one more thing we have to address once the babies fledge.

Downsizing here isn’t going to be as quick and frantic as it was when I sold my house in Colorado. It’s Mr. FixIt’s stuff. I can’t just come in with a dumpster and throw things away. That’s not how it works…no matter how much I would like to do just that. If we even go through two or three drawers or boxes or a closet every day, we will be making great progress and things will be less of a burden for him…and for me. After downsizing so much myself, my tolerance for clutter and unnecessary ephemera is much, much lower than it used to be. This is something that all of my husbands would have loved. My piles and collections and “stuff” was a bone of contention with each man who ever shared my space.

My friend Deneene is preparing for a huge estate sale as she downsizes and moves south to be with her sweetheart. She is a widow and this house is where she raised her three children. It is a huge home and you know as well as I do…things accumulate. She is doing something I did when I downsized. There were things that had personal meaning for me and papers that I didn’t want to lose track of. I made a file called “Memories” and took pictures of everything I needed to remember…the items I loved but really couldn’t keep as well as papers that could possibly get lost or destroyed. She’s doing a great job. It brings back such memories for me…those long days and nights of purging and packing and moving. She is so blessed to have a buyer…the first one who looked! Selling my house was a nightmare. I’m happy that things are going so smoothly for her so far and pray they continue to do so.

Change. It’s one of the things you can count on…like death, and taxes. And, it’s difficult for some…easy for others. Either way…it’s gonna come. ❤

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Hello, June!!!

Fri, 01 Jun 2018 01:30:54 -0600

“Hello, June!!!”

Seriously, how does time go so fast?

And, so…S-L-O-W!

Let me explain. Today…I start Medicare! What??? I didn’t think it would EVER get here. And, at the same time, I learned to drive, like…yesterday, right? All week I’ve been in awe of this moment. This is such a monumental event. Ok, getting married is a monumental event. Having a baby is a monumental event. Changing insurance plans isn’t really that big of a deal. But it is, you know?

Sometimes ideas have to stew around in my head for a few days before I can articulate them. I just have to sit tight and feel the feelings till the thought bubbles up like a spring coming up from deep within the earth. This idea of going on Medicare…turning sixty-five…is an accomplishment. One not everyone gets to enjoy. Mr. Virgo died at sixty-two. He didn’t get Medicare. He didn’t get to retire. I’ve lived three years longer than he did. There was a time when I didn’t believe I would live this long. And, here I am.

I get to go on Medicare. I get to go to Florida in a couple of weeks. I get to see my Colorado family in July. I get to have some medical procedures in the next few weeks that some people can’t afford. I get to spend my time with a really sweet, kind, caring man who loves me more than anything…and I get to love him right back. I’ve gained more family members through Mr. FixIt. I get to live in West Virginia. I am truly, truly blessed. I know this.

Yesterday was spent cleaning and shampooing the carpets in the basement. A perfect day for working down there since it was so hot and humid out. We had a brief downpour that did nothing but make the air hot and sticky. After we were finished with our chores, we went out in the pool and cleaned some more (pools are high maintenance) and only came in when we heard some thunder. That storm missed us.

A good day working and playing. Yet, I still can’t get over it. Medicare.

How did this happen? ❤️

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭4:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Power of Words

Thu, 31 May 2018 01:30:32 -0600

“Shhhhhh…..”

Events of the last couple of years, and certainly the last week, have demonstrated the absolute destructive power of the spoken word. Caution…I am NOT discussing politics here nor specific individuals or what has been said. What I’m talking about is society’s shift toward having no filter whatsoever. My elderly aunt once said something to me that was downright mean-spirited. When she was done, I just looked at her calmly and said, “You know, that was very mean.” She said, “Yeah, well…it popped into my head so I figured I might as well say it!” Ok…she’s 84 with declining mental faculties. I can forgive that. But some of the things I hear these days makes me want to hold my hands over my ears and go screaming into the night.

Yesterday, one of the news channels out of Denver that I still follow was airing a live video feed of a cow elk in labor and attempting to give birth. It was pretty boring, actually. I mean…how long can to sit and stare at a cow elk laying down, standing up, laying down, standing up, pushing, laying down…you get the picture. There was no “happy ending” coming anytime soon and there had already been sixteen hours of this. I soon bored of watching the elk who was desperately trying to become a mama and started reading the comments people were making.

I was appalled. What started out innocently enough, ie “Oh, no! Is the mama cow in trouble? This has been going on a long time!” to “You stupid ******* idiot, it’s an elk, not a cow!” to “Veal comes from a boy calf who gets ripped from his mama and kept in the dark and fed only milk.” to “YOU’RE the ******* cow, *****!” Holy cats! It took five minutes to go south. People seem to be of the opinion, like my elderly, slightly dotty aunt, that if it pops in your head, you might as well say it.

People who have seen great commercial success have seen their empires crumble for saying abhorrent things. Men have lost their careers and everything they have built because of things they said. I am NOT standing up for those men who are truly deserving of retribution and I totally think you need to be held accountable for the things that come out of your mouth. But, you have to ask yourself, what would keep a disgruntled employee or associate from claiming such abuse when the accused is actually innocent. You know it happens.

When is it ok to be a racist? The answer is…never. When is it ok to be anti Semitic? The answer is…never. When is it ok to be homophobic and denigrate someone on social media for their sexual preference? The answer is…never. Liberals, conservatives, gay, straight, black, white, and every shade in between…we’re all the same inside. We all bleed red and breathe oxygen. The thing is…I don’t think of it as being “politically correct.” I think of it as being a decent human being with good character. God tells us in the Bible that the tongue has incredible power. We can bring blessings or curses…life or death…light or darkness. All with a muscle the size of a small banana.

Such power words have. Lifelong scars can happen in an instant. Broken promises. Little white lies. Great big lies. Gossip. Slander. Such damage that can be done without thinking. We see it over and over. You’d think they’d learn, wouldn’t you?

Proverb 10:19 says…”Sin is not ended by multiplying words, but the prudent hold their tongues.” Proverbs 15:4 says “The soothing tongue is a tree of life, but a perverse tongue crushes the spirit.” Matthew 15:11 says…”What goes into someone’s mouth does not defile them, but what comes out of their mouth, that is what defiles them.” The Bible warns over and over and over to hold your tongue. Watch your words. I am as guilty as anyone for speaking before thinking…far too many times. But age and maturity and God’s grace is going far toward helping me keep a rein in on my tongue. And what I miss, God forgives me when I am truly repentant. I hope the next generation learns this. I hope they learn the delicate art of speaking gently. ❤

“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭4:29‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Tread Lightly

Wed, 30 May 2018 01:30:40 -0600

“Bison in front of the Grand Tetons, Yellowstone National Park”

Oh, those Facebook memories. They used to slay me. I’d finally be feeling halfway like myself, to the point where I didn’t cry every d*** day, when one of those pages from the past would show up and rip my heart wide open again. I am pleased to say, it’s been a while since I’ve had that kind of reaction to something as unbidden as photos from a favorite vacation.

Yesterday, just such a memory popped up. Mr. Virgo loved going to Yellowstone National Park and seeing the Grand Tetons. We went two or three times in the seven-and-a-half years we were together. He was quite the photographer and I am so happy I have so many of his beautiful photos. This was taken on our last vacation together. We did a float trip down the Snake River that year. We spent a week exploring. We saw grizzlies, eagles, bison, deer, elk, owls, coyotes, antelope…it was amazing.

Yesterday was a good day. Mr. FixIt and I worked hard…it was mowing day. We have lots of rain forecast in the next few days so we needed to get that done. It was hot, but we stayed in the AC during the worst of it in the afternoon and headed back out just as the sun started to head over the wooded ridge beyond the far field. When we were done, we enjoyed a refreshing couple of hours in the pool. When I settled in to write my post, this photo showed up. The more time that passes since Mr. Virgo’s death, the wider the chasm between then and now becomes.

Grief is so weird. Sometimes things that you THINK would upset you are nothing. Other times, the smallest thing can trip you up and send you down the tubes. This was a good day. This was a good memory, a good vacation. This was a good marriage, a good man, a good friend, a good life. And yesterday was a good day, a good memory, with a good man, a good friend, and a good life. The difference is time and perspective. It’s a new life. A different life. A good life. A fun life.

Yes…grief is weird. ❤

“The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭37:23-24‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Walking Strong

Tue, 29 May 2018 01:30:48 -0600

“Remember, you have supernatural weapons to fight off evil.”

I woke up in the early hours of the morning, that old familiar churning in the pit of my stomach. Feeling stretched too thin. Since Mr. Virgo died, I have struggled with grief and anxiety periodically. I’ll go long stretches and feel great. Nothing fazes me. Then, when I get over extended with too many obligations, or I get confronted with a memory or event that stirs my grief, I lose my focus.

When I focus on God and put all my trust in Him, I do much better. When I lose that focus, I give Satan wiggle room to weasel his way into my thoughts. It would be different if this only happened once or twice in my life, but this happens over and over and over. Granted, farther apart than it used to but I want it gone for good.

When I ask God to carry my burdens, he gladly does. I just forget to ask sometimes. That independent woman who thinks I ought to be able to buck up and take care of business gets in my way. I’m finally learning, when these moments occur, I need a good solid dose of Vitamin Jesus. His prescription pad is the Bible. When I turn to His Word for sustenance my anxiety eases. That knot in the pit of my stomach lets go.

I was in small group from church a couple weeks ago. A strong woman I’ve met a few times was sitting to my right. She told a story about these people who came to her house for a visit. She is a widow and these people brought doom and gloom to her door. They were talking about illness and death and dying and this person was sick and that person died. (I don’t know if it’s a West Virginia thing or a Southern thing or if we get to a certain age, illness and death seem to be the main focus of any conversation.) Well, my new friend was having nothing of it. She said the visit was brief. She walked her guests to the door and once they left, she stood there…waving her arms in the air, pushing all that negative energy right out the door on the heels of those who brought it. She said, out loud, “You aren’t welcome here, Satan. Take your bad energy and thoughts and get right out of my house!” It was a lesson for me…an eye-opening experience.

So, yesterday morning, when I awoke with that old familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach, instead of feeling sick all day and ruining the poolside BBQ we had planned, I turned to God’s Word for a little dose of Doctor J. I’m doing a 14 day bible study plan with the gals from my small group. It’s based on the work of Joyce Meyer. 2 Corinthians 10:4 was the verse she was discussing yesterday morning.

We forget to take up our weapons sometimes. We forget these are not the slings and arrows of this world. These weapons have Divine Power. They hold the same Divine Power Jesus used to heal the sick and raise the dead and calm the seas. The very same power. God gave them to us. He sent his Holy Spirit to deliver them the day we gave our lives to follow Christ. These Powers are ours to use to defeat the enemy at every turn. We just have to remember they are there, believe in their strength, and pick them up.

I love those moments when I turn to God and say, “Help! I’m drowning over here! I can’t do this.” I turn to His Word and he gives me this scripture. I was laying curled up in my bed, sure I was going to have to cancel the day’s fun activities when this started. Within a few moments, I flung the enemy and his stinkin’ thoughts right out the window. I mean, I sat up, physically brushed all that negative crap off of me and went all Pentecostal and said…out loud…”Be gone! Get out of here. You are not welcome in my home and in my life!” Within 10 minutes or so, I felt 100% better. The knot in my stomach was gone. The feeling of dread vanished. The nausea ceased. And I felt like a new person.

When they say there is power in the name of Jesus, they really aren’t kidding. Demons flee at the sound of His Name. Don’t forget to use that power when you need it. And…walk STRONG! ❤

“The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭10:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Whippoorwill

Mon, 28 May 2018 01:30:56 -0600

“The whippoorwill.”

If you are a mother, I am sure you remember that age when your child tried to get your attention with “Mom? Mom? Mom? Mama? Mom? Mom?” etc. Maybe you were trying to read something, or you were concentrating on some task, and that little voice repeated “MOM” incessantly till you wanted to change your name. I loved those days. But time made me forget what that repetition actually felt like. That is…until last night.

The whippoorwill was back. With a vengeance. I had just settled in the back bedroom, my little portable desk on my lap, my iPad charged and ready, the window open to let in the cool evening breeze. Ahhhh…peace. I started to ruminate through my day for a topic. I researched a couple of Scriptures. I said my prayers. Then the whippoorwill began it’s evening love song. My concentration was shattered. For thirty minutes straight one “whippoorwill” after another in rapid succession began to set my teeth on edge. Save for one 10 second pause, it continued on and on.

It made me think of other times my intentions have been interrupted by an agonizingly annoying voice that would not quit. Times when I had a course charted, I was happily heading down the path to a planned destination. And it was totally wrong for me. That incessant voice I heard all those times was the Holy Spirit. Jesus knocked on the door of my heart so many times and I totally ignored Him with my fingers in my ears like a petulant child. “La la la la la la…I can’t HEAR you!”

Funny thing about the Holy Spirit…He’s persistent. Sometimes He’ll just wear you down till you give in out of sheer desperation. But when you do…the rewards are so sweet, it’s hard to remember why you would possibly push Him away like that.

I’ve never seen a whippoorwill that I know of. I think I might have caught a glimpse of one flying low behind the house out on the farm once. They are a funny looking little bird from what I’ve seen on the Google search. Squatty, no-necked, spotty, little critters with drowsy eyes. When he finally became still…either he gave up or got spooked and moved on…the stillness was deafening.

There was a moment when the Holy Spirit went AWOL on me after a particularly bad choice I made. Oh, He never left me…he never abandons us. He was just sitting back, waiting for me to learn that I couldn’t do this alone. Like…”Oh, so THAT’S the choice you’re making, huh? Well, let’s just see how THIS works out for you.”

Eventually, I learned the error of my ways. I just got tired of trying to control everything. I took a step forward and said, “God…I surrender. I can’t do this on my own anymore. I need you to carry this for me.” And…that was as simple as it was. No fanfare. No bugles. No applause. Just…”I’m done.” And in that moment, everything in my life changed.

If this sounds rambling, we’ll blame it on the whippoorwill. It truly was hard to concentrate with that racket just outside the bedroom window as I tried to write. I decided to just leave it as it is as it was after midnight by the time the little bugger gave it up.

I hope you have a wonderful, safe holiday today! ❤

“being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience,” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭1:11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Winding Down

Wed, 23 May 2018 01:30:28 -0600

“Knitting projects”

I always hate the end of a trip. The goodbyes. The packing up and cleaning and laundry. The pulling away from a really great camping spot. No more owls overhead. No more gals sitting around a table full of food. No more all day knitting sessions. No more leisurely naps in the afternoon. sigh

Mr. FixIt left yesterday morning. We’ve had boatloads of rain so he needed to get back and check the basement. Also, I’m sure sitting around all day while the girls knit wasn’t high on his to do list. He was a great sport though. He went fishing one night, hiking one day, and exploring the area another day.

Today, I head home. Another Girl Camper trip is in the books. I wonder where I’ll head next on this Grand Adventure? ❤️

“The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭37:23-24‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Feeling Totally Relaxed

Tue, 22 May 2018 01:30:16 -0600

“A big bullfrog serenaded me from a pond.”

Three more of our Girl Campers left yesterday morning. It’s always sad to see the week end. So much fun and wonderful memories are made during this gathering. I’m blessed this year with two extra days spent with Gail, my fellow Girl Camper and camphost extraordinaire. Plus, there is the added bonus of Mr. FixIt being here!

“Alpaca roving for spinning.”

After coffee yesterday, we sat around for an hour or so and chatted before the gals said goodbye and headed on their way. One was headed straight home but two were going to Lehman’s, a wonderful hardware store in Kidron, Ohio that specializes in non-electric appliances and tools. I really want to make a trip up there. I’ve received their catalog for years.

“Gail spins the alpaca roving into a fine yarn…her fingers skillfully knowing how hard to hold and draw the fibers onto the spindle.”

After everyone was gone, Gail and I headed to check out a new shop that advertises fibers, wool, and rugs. It’s a darling little “she shed” shop on this gal’s farm that had belonged to her grandparents. She raises sheep for her wool. She has two looms set up in her shop. She had several handmade items for sale. But I was disappointed there was no yarn and Gail was disappointed there was no wool available for sale as yet. I did get to look around a bit and caught this big bullfrog that was in the pond by the shop. And the little lambs were darling frolicking in the pasture. There were lovely flower and herb gardens all around. I just don’t think the gal was quite ready to be open for business yet. Maybe in the fall she’ll have more items available.

“The camp kitty snoozes in the chair beside me as I knit. I wasn’t patient enough for the spinning.”

When we got back to the campground, Gail got out the spinning wheel she learned on. She picked up a basket of alpaca roving and set to teaching me to spin. I found it incredibly frustrating because I am an instant gratification kind of a gal. Gail says if I just keep trying, I’ll get the hang of it. I might try again, but for now, I’ll just buy beautiful yarns that I can work with right away. I started a new pair of socks with a beautiful fingering yarn. It’s 100% wool though so I’ll have to take extra special care of them. They are for me. Gail also gave me a beautiful skein of German wool/polyester blend to knit Mr. FixIt a pair of socks. It is a grey, heathery blend.

Today is our last day of just sitting around and enjoying Gail’s company, knitting and talking and laughing. This is such good therapy. The camp kitty is content to lay in the chair beside me and snooze. This is about as peaceful as it gets…the smell of pine and rain, woodsmoke and spring flowers…the sound of crows and pileated woodpeckers and songbirds and owls…and the laughter of friends. sigh Tomorrow it’s back to the real world till our next adventure. ❤

“Every skilled woman spun with her hands and brought what she had spun—blue, purple or scarlet yarn or fine linen.” ‭‭Exodus‬ ‭35:25‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Campfire and Conversation

Mon, 21 May 2018 01:30:18 -0600

“A pileated woodpecker has decimated this tall pine tree at the edge of the campground.”

This trip has been such a blessing to me. Laughter is the best medicine and there has been so much joy shared between us as we sit and work with our hands. We have shared stories and learned more about each other. We have loved on our furry friends, including a little stray black cat who showed up Friday night. We think someone must have dumped him along the road because he is so friendly. He’s the camp cat for now and will more than likely go home with the camphost as her husband has taken a shine to him.

“The hat I knitted from the yarn Gail spun from Alpaca and wool.”

I’ve become very close friends with our camphost, Gail. She is a woman of strong faith. She reminds me of the woman in Proverbs 31. She’s the kind of woman you want to learn from and emulate. She is kind, courageous, fair, fun, and family oriented. And talented? OMGosh! She can do anything. I just love her to the moon and back. Her husband took Mr. FixIt fishing last night and he had a blast. They only caught one fish between them, but they had good fellowship and got to know each other better.

“Mr. FixIt enjoys his morning coffee in one of the Girl Camper mugs.”

This is one of the things I love about Mr. FixIt. He has friends outside of our relationship. I loved Mr. Virgo…you know that. And, he had no real friendships other than me. He had friends he worked with, but he never did anything without me. I was telling the girls around the campfire the other night…I never would have been a Girl Camper or a Sister on the Fly if Mr. Virgo were still living. It’s just not something I would have done…even though it was something I would have enjoyed. This is the difference in the woman I have become since losing him. I am far more independent. And, I am more assertive…something Mr. FixIt deeply appreciates in me.

“Campfire and Corgis”

Loss changed me. It was terribly difficult. It tore me apart and dropped me in pieces on the ground. When it came time to rebuild, I put myself back together in a way that suited this new life…this new me. I love this me that I am today. While I hate what happened to get me here, I am grateful for this new life and all the new people that have been brought into it.

Yes, this trip is just what the doctor ordered. Food, fun, and frolic…Girl Camper style! ❤️

“A good woman is hard to find, and worth far more than diamonds. Her husband trusts her without reserve, and never has reason to regret it. Never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long. She shops around for the best yarns and cottons, and enjoys knitting and sewing. She’s like a trading ship that sails to faraway places and brings back exotic surprises. She’s up before dawn, preparing breakfast for her family and organizing her day. She looks over a field and buys it, then, with money she’s put aside, plants a garden. First thing in the morning, she dresses for work, rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started. She senses the worth of her work, is in no hurry to call it quits for the day. She’s skilled in the crafts of home and hearth, diligent in homemaking. She’s quick to assist anyone in need, reaches out to help the poor. She doesn’t worry about her family when it snows; their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear. She makes her own clothing, and dresses in colorful linens and silks. Her husband is greatly respected when he deliberates with the city fathers. She designs gowns and sells them, brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops. Her clothes are well-made and elegant, and she always faces tomorrow with a smile. When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say, and she always says it kindly. She keeps an eye on everyone in her household, and keeps them all busy and productive. Her children respect and bless her; her husband joins in with words of praise: “Many women have done wonderful things, but you’ve outclassed them all!” Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades. The woman to be admired and praised is the woman who lives in the Fear-of- GOD. Give her everything she deserves! Festoon her life with praises!” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:10-31‬ ‭MSG‬‬

I’m Walkin’ on Sunshine

Wed, 16 May 2018 06:39:50 -0600

“Sitting in the morning sun, coffee in hand, Country Living Magazine…birds and roosters entertaining me. It’s a beautiful life!”

One of summer’s delights in the east…a warm morning spent outside reading and sipping my morning coffee. We’ve hit the summer thunderboomer circuit early this year here in West Virginia. The skies are brilliantly clear in the morning. The humidity is high from the rain the afternoon before. The temperature soars by noon and the thunderclouds begin to build till they boil over. Thunder, lightning, hail, high winds all can play havoc with your plans.

Mowing seems to be the big thing around here in the summer. I have to say, I did not miss lawn care and home maintenance in the years I traveled and lived in TOW-Wanda. It was a welcome break. But now that I have the chance to dive into the great outdoors and get dirty and sweaty, I have to admit, it beats going to a gym any day of the week.

I mowed with the self-propelled push mower at the farm yesterday. What a workout! The yard is well over an acre, the temperature in the high eighties, the humidity sticky and thick. With my propensity towards heat exhaustion, I only mowed 15-20 minutes at a time, then took a break to rehydrate and lay in front of the fan. At that rate, it took me five hours to complete. It’s so beautiful when it’s finished. I took a few moments to just wander around and enjoy the surroundings. The rhododendron is just about to burst into bloom, as are the irises and peonies. The farm cats lazed around beneath the Rose of Sharon and the huge hydrangea bush along the creek. While the flowering quince is fading, the spice bush is in full bloom. I love this time of year.

We are getting things geared up here at the Ponderosa to prepare for a summer of entertaining. Mr. FixIt has been working in the pool to get it open. We still need to pressure wash the deck but will wait for a dry spell. I’m heading out today for another road trip. This time I’ll be camping with the Girl Campers at a State Park in Ohio for a week. It’s a Mister Sister event so my mister will be joining me this weekend. I love camping with the girls! This year, our hostess…my dear friend Gail…is going to teach me to spin wool for sock yarn. I’ll have time to sit and knit on my socks and finally read my friend Michelle Cummins’ new book, The Reel Sisters. Peace and quiet in the beautiful woods surrounding one of my favorite campgrounds.

As I sit here on the deck in the warm sunshine, a nice breeze blowing, listening to the rooster down the road, reading Country Living Magazine…my heart is overflowing with the blessings of my life. I’m such a far cry from the early days of my grief. The contrast is startling. The heart can mend itself…scarred, certainly. But infinitely full of hope. ❤️

“So I rejoice, and I am glad. Even my body has hope.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭16:9‬ ‭INternational Children’s Bible

Still Praying Together

Sun, 13 May 2018 01:30:50 -0600

“My good friend, Lisa and me.”

It was the fall of 1960 when I met Lisa. We were in second grade together in Mrs. Alexander’s room. It depends who you talk to. Some say Mrs. Alexander was a sweetheart. Others…not so much. She seemed to have one student every year that was on her black list. Nothing you could do would please her if you were on her dark side…and that is the unenviable position I found myself in during second grade.

She made me nervous. And when I get nervous, I can’t eat. Every day I would try to eat my lunch because every day she saved my lunch tray to show my mom that I wasn’t eating. I always felt like I was in trouble. Mom took me to the doctor and he gave me a “tonic” that I took a spoonful of every day. Together, they decided Mom should pack my lunch. Maybe it was just the school food I didn’t like. But that wasn’t it. Even when I had my favorite foods in my cute little plaid lunch box, I just could not eat.

One day, before lunch, I was standing in line to wash my hands in the bathroom. My stomach was churning and I knew I was going to have trouble eating. I was praying under my breath, when the little girl in front of me turned around and looked me straight in the eye. It was Lisa.

“Are you praying?” she asked.

I silently nodded my head and cast my eyes downward…ashamed to be in such a dire circumstance.

“What are you praying about?”

“Mrs. Alexander scares me and I can’t eat. Every day I get in trouble because I don’t eat my lunch. She even took me to the office and the Principal spanked me!” My words tumbled over each other as I confessed my self-perceived weakness.

“Well, here…I’ll pray with you.” Lisa wrapped her arm around my shoulder and hugged me close and we both prayed that I could eat again and that Mrs. Alexander would leave me alone.

I was stunned by her kindness. I was relieved beyond words. Someone cared. Someone understood me. Someone wanted to help me. And…it was a little girl I didn’t know. I instantly loved her.

Amazingly, that is the last time I remember the whole lunch fiasco. I don’t remember if my appetite returned, but I do know we moved shortly after that and I started attending a new school. I never had to deal with Mrs. Alexander again.

Lisa and I attended high school together but we didn’t cross paths. We had a huge class and circles sometimes stuck to who you went to junior high with. However, several years later, I ran into Lisa at a high school reunion. She is an associate pastor now. I asked her if she remembered praying with me in the restroom before lunch that autumn day so long ago. But, alas…she did not. You see, Lisa was struck by a car as she crossed the street several years ago and very nearly died of her injuries. It left her with some long term memory loss. She was happy to know she helped me though, and we have become good friends.

Lisa recently suffered a heart attack and we were absolutely thrilled when she came to coffee yesterday with the ‘71 Divas. She looks wonderful, healthy, strong. I couldn’t stop hugging her. She asked how Mr. FixIt was. She went all through school with him. Last year, when she found out we were dating, she literally jumped up out of her chair and threw her hands in the air and praised Jesus.

“If there were anyone in the whole wide world I would want the two of you to have, it would be each other. This is PERFECT!” I couldn’t help but laugh and clap along with her exuberance. Lisa is wonderful. She is a straight shooter. She has seen her share of hardships in this life and has come out a loving, giving, God-centric woman and I love her dearly. I just wanted to share her with you today.

Sending you love and light and prayers for continued good health, my friend. ❤

“Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them."” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭18:19-20‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Pain is Like Shifting Sand

Wed, 02 May 2018 01:30:35 -0600

“Iris on the OBX”

Those of us who have borne children understand the pain of childbirth. It is excruciating while you’re going through it, but once the baby comes the pain shifts. It doesn’t seem quite so bad. It’s hard to remember exactly what the worst contractions or the moment of delivery actually felt like. The fact there is this tiny new life to focus on eases our memories of the pain, mostly out of necessity and sleep deprivation. We just don’t have time to think about it. But…what about grief?

Grief is different. We don’t have that sweet little baby to focus all our attention on. We are left with this jagged hole…in our hearts, in our lives. We have “grief brain”, “grief waves”…change, change, and more change. And no sweet baby.

Everyone is different. We experience it differently. We approach it differently. Some heal fast. Some feel they will never ever heal. Some seem strong and stoic. Some weep forever more. There’s no wrong way to grieve. There is only your way.

Something has been niggling at the back of my mind for a while. I’ll try my best to explain it. It’s been five years now since Mr. Virgo died and I’m in a new relationship. And…I’m very happy. But I also grieve. Not like before. Not acutely. Not so deep and not so long. My grief has shifted…like the sand dunes by the sea. It rises here and there. It recedes here and there. And, while the pain of my loss is still very real to me, it has receded to a point where I don’t think of it all the time anymore.

When I express my joy, I sometimes forget…like the new mother…that others may very well still be in the throes of grief. I try to remember that in my writing and address grief issues. The evolution of my grief has been a blessing and a curse. It is good that I’m not in pain like I was. It’s bad because I come across as insensitive to what you may be experiencing. I remember distinctly wanting to slap happy couples when I was a new widow.

A couple of weeks ago, we were in Tennessee visiting my cousin and his wife. He has mesothelioma and has decided to stop treatment. There isn’t much left they can offer him and what they do have is so toxic it nearly killed him. He’s decided to “ride it out”. He’s been given four years since his diagnosis…two of which would not have been possible just a few years ago due to medical advancements. There were a couple of times while we were visiting that I just wanted someone to put their hand over my mouth and make me shut up.

One such event was proclaiming how happy Mr. FixIt and I are. Another was telling my cousin’s wife I’d take her on a trip some day with my camper. In the first instance, the memory of wanting to slap happy people came to me. In the second, I realized I had just tried to make plans with a new widow that isn’t widowed yet. Both were Grief 101 faux pas. Yet, there they were. I have written about grief for five years…you’d think I’d know better.

It’s a delicate balance…grief and joy. At first, grief always wins. And eventually joy comes in and plays a bigger and bigger role. When/if that happens is so highly individualized that it’s impossible to predict. I just ask God to always keep me stepping gently when I dance with joy so that I might not hurt others. I never, ever want to cause more pain through insensitivity. ❤

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭12:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Saying Goodbye to the OBX

Sat, 28 Apr 2018 01:30:19 -0600

“Sunset over the Sound, OBX”

After watching the twenty day forecast for the Outer Banks, Mr. FixIt and I were fully prepared for a cold, cloudy, wet week at the beach. As it turned out, the weather predictions were almost entirely incorrect. We had one day that rained all day. The first day we arrived, I had to wear my down coat on the beach. One afternoon, we had a really great thunderstorm. And, that was it. We couldn’t have asked for a better week. Yesterday was around 70 degrees. A gentle breeze came off the ocean, but it was still warm enough to sit out in the sun in a bathing suit…knitting! I got a little sunburned in the spots I missed with the sunscreen, but overall, it was perfect.

Last night’s sunset was a true gift. I turned to Mr. FixIt and asked, “How can anyone sit and watch this and think there is no God?” It was the best sunset of the week by far…we only had two that were picture worthy. We are driving all the way home today so we can go to church tomorrow. We don’t want to miss it. And, remember last summer when I went to the Revival? Well, Pastor Matthew is having one this week and I’m going so get ready for some fired up posts in the coming days!

Get out there this weekend and enjoy the beautiful weather if it’s nice where you are! We only get so many sunsets. ❤

“The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭65:8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Waking Up

Fri, 27 Apr 2018 01:30:47 -0600

“Knitting Socks with Four Double Point Needles:

My second marriage fell apart in January 2000. In June of 2001, I opened a small needlework shop in Glenwood Springs called Needles & Pins. I lost my shirt with that business. Twice, actually. But, like buying TOW-Wanda and camping helped me heal after losing Mr. Virgo…that little shop helped me heal and find my long lost self-confidence after my 21 year marriage ended. I mostly sold cross-stitch supplies, a little needlepoint, some gift items, and eventually branched out and sold some yarn.

I’m not an accomplished knitter, but I did knit a cute little dress for my first grandchild. I have knit socks and hats and scarves. But once my shop closed and I got rid of most of the inventory, I was pretty burned out on needlework. Since Mr. Virgo died, I haven’t really been able to concentrate on anything like this. I don’t have the attention span to watch a movie, let alone knit something to completion.

We were exploring Kitty Hawk the other day. We were looking for some really good cheese to eat while sitting on the beach and found a little wine and cheese bar called Trio. And, a couple of doors down is a yarn shop. Knitting Addiction is two stories of brightly lit space filled with a cornucopia of yummy yarns. I have always enjoyed knitting socks because it’s a relatively small project that you can work on in the summer without feeling like you’re wearing a winter coat. They go pretty fast, and they make lovely handmade gifts for the special people in your life.

I talked with the shop owner, Jeanne. I told her it had been years since I could concentrate enough to knit. She got it. She has this pattern for socks, she told me. She wrote it herself for people who don’t like terribly complicated stuff but still want to create cool things. Sign me up! We went through the cool yarns and I picked out a couple. Her pattern is knit using four double point needles…three holding stitches and one for working the rows. Now, it’s been twenty years since I knit socks that way. I’ve always used the book “Socks That Soar” which uses two circular needles. I was afraid it would be too much, but I really, really wanted to try.

I sat down that night and looked at the pattern and I could feel that familiar glaze forming over my mind and I thought, “Uh-oh…I’ve just wasted my money.” Then I ran my fingers over the soft yarn. I thought of how my daughter asked me to knit her another pair of socks years ago. She never asks for anything, but I just couldn’t do it. I was determined not to give up. When we were out and about yesterday, I asked Mr. FixIt to drop me off at the yarn shop for a little while. I wanted to sit down with Jeanne for a little refresher course.

Jeanne was wonderful and showed me how to cast on and join in the round. It was like riding a bicycle…I picked it right up. I do have to work on my tension. I take tension VERY seriously…and it shows in my very tight knitting stitches. Jeanne carefully took out my cast on stitches and knit them with the proper tension that I can duplicate.

Here’s something interesting. When I meet people like Jeanne, I am often asked “What do you do?” Then the story comes out about being a writer and a speaker and a gypsy. I tell about TOW-Wanda and The Grand Adventure and the reason behind it. But this time, Spirit said…”Less is more.” So I talked about my needlework shop. Nothing about the blog or loss or Mr. Virgo. Last night, when I was writing this post, I couldn’t remember the shop owner’s name so I went to her website. On it, I found her blog. Her latest post disclosed she had lost “sweet guy” in October. And while she was doing ok, she was still struggling. She asked people to come in with a smile or pictures of the grandbaby with the new woobie you knitted for her. She asked you to make her laugh. Ohhhh, I can SO relate to that.

What made me thank God last night was this…He told me to “go see this lady. Don’t tell her of your pain. Have her help you relearn something you used to love doing. Make her laugh, even when she tells you she is struggling today. And I will renew for you this love affair with yarn.” I love the shoulder taps.

And…I made her laugh. ❤

“For it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭10:20‬ ‭ESV‬‬

⚡️❤️ Lightning Heart

Wed, 18 Apr 2018 01:30:18 -0600

“Magic Fred dancing at Mountain Fair”

We called him “Magic Fred.” Fred “Lightning Heart” Haberlien was a fixture in the Roaring Fork Valley where I lived for 28 years. He was an incredible muralist. His paintings grace buildings and silos all across Colorado, bringing warmth and light to spaces once overlooked or deemed an eyesore.

I first met Fred when his wife Teresa interviewed for a position in Hubby #2’s medical practice somewhere in the late ‘80s. He was a shaman, a medicine man, a spirit dancer. With his long hair pulled back into a ponytail and his signature hat, Fred could soon be found all over town spreading his love and light. When he met you…everytime he met you…he handed you a polished rock. He gave you a piece of his Earth Mother to hold and keep. He was generous to a fault, a peaceful man. I never saw anything rattle him.

“Fred and one of his stunning murals.”

When Daughter #1 was born, Fred was drawn to her old soul. He wrote up her star chart in intricate detail. He brought her small gifts. He was enchanted, as we all were, with this quiet, dark-haired beauty that graced our presence. When she was older, he showed her magic tricks…hence the nickname, “Magic Fred.”

When we decided to renovate the kitchen in the big house on the hill, Fred came and drew the surrounding vista on the soffits above the cabinets. Any direction you turned, you could see what was outside…Mt. Sopris, The Flattops Wilderness Area, Red Mountain, Lookout Mountain. It was something I cherished.

Fred painted large murals that covered unsightly buildings.”

We lost ⚡❤ on Sunday night. I saw him last summer at the live music in the park in Glenwood Springs. I hadn’t known he was ill and had narrowly escaped esophageal cancer in the year prior. I don’t know for sure, but I assume that beast came back with a roar. You often read tributes like “The world is a little darker without you.” Fred wouldn’t want that, I don’t think. I think he would have wanted us to say “I see the spark of you in everything.” Tears stung my eyes when I read of his passing…mostly for his beloved partner, Teresa. They were simbiotic…such a beautiful match. It will be a difficult road for many who loved and honored our good friend.

“Fred dancing in front of a finished mural.”

Fame wasn’t something Fred sought. He sought to touch people’s lives in a way that might change them, which he did brilliantly. His paintings are beautiful gifts he left for us to remember him by…almost as a side note. He will be sorely missed.

Vaya con dios, my sweet friend. Go with God.

⚡❤⚡

“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭4:17-18‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Faith or Fear?

Tue, 17 Apr 2018 01:30:12 -0600

“Faith or Fear?”

I love my readers. And I love how God uses them to teach me things. “Betty” (not her real name) sent me a message yesterday morning. She found a little typo and wanted to let me know. Everyone knows I’m a stickler for good grammar and I have a few who help me catch things when they slip through. She always signs off with “WALK STRONG.” I wrote back that I was trying, but I have a few things I’m facing in the coming weeks that I could use some extra prayers for. Immediately, “Betty” came back with a valuable reminder.

God is omnipresent…He is everywhere and all powerful. The enemy is not. Our pastor says he is so small, he is under our boot. So he waits. And he listens. He finds weakness and exploits it. When we speak out loud and voice our fear or anger or doubt, he pounces on that and attacks us through our thoughts. So, we have to be careful about the words we confess…over ourselves, our circumstances, each other. “Betty” reminded me in order to defeat the enemy, we have to beat him at his own game and confess positive, Victory, light…all of which are God’s characteristics. She went on to say you have lay your burdens down at the foot of the cross and walk away. Ohhhhh…that is not an easy thing to do!

“Betty” says…you can have Faith, or you can have fear. You can’t have both…you have to choose. I took that into my situation yesterday. I drove to town professing light, strength, courage, Victory. I laid everything down and walked away and was filled with an incredible sense of peace. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy…” John 10:10 When you open yourself by confessing fears, you open the door and let the enemy in. “WALK STRONG!” I love that!

Divine appointments. God makes appointments with us every day. He sends the Holy Spirit to counsel us. In this case, He sent “Betty” with word of a typo that turned into a valuable lesson of Faith for me. It literally changed my day. It doesn’t work if you don’t listen. And it doesn’t work if you don’t obey. This life gig is pretty cool if you think about it. We have this incredible supernatural Father that loves us, craves interaction with us, sends a Spirit to coach us and teach us and, dare I say, scold us when we need it. And all we have to do is trust, and believe, and listen, and follow directions. Amazing!

Who is your “Betty” today? ❤

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” ‭‭John‬ ‭10:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

New Things

Sun, 15 Apr 2018 01:30:01 -0600

“It’s that time of year!”

I love doing new things. Yesterday, it was mowing about four acres with a riding lawn mower. I’ve never used a riding mower before. I’ve never really had a lawn big enough that would justify the expense. The yard at the farm is about an acre so I guess if I were planning on living there forever, I might buy one, but really, the self-propelled Toro mower I have out there is just fine.

Mr. FixIt has five acres. He used to mow all of it but in the last few years, he’s left that back acre or so to be brush hogged a couple of times a year. Still, four acres is a pretty impressive amount of mowing. I filled up my water bottle, put on my wide brimmed hat and radio headphones and cranked up the tunes. I rock and rolled out there for a good two hours and it wasn’t bad at all. Then I used the push mower to get some of the places I couldn’t reach with the rider and that about did me in. It was probably ninety degrees out there and I really should have known better. I don’t tolerate heat very well at all anymore. Fortunately, I do know to quit at the very first symptoms of overheating. I came in and took a cool shower, drank some fluids with electrolytes, ate a banana, and laid down under the ceiling fan. I soon felt much better, although I’m going to be pretty sore today.

Mr. FixIt was very proud of my accomplishments. He asked if that was the first time I’d ever mowed on a riding mower. I grinned ear to ear. He laughed and said, “It just might get old after a while!” Yeah, probably…but it sure was fun yesterday. He was thrilled to have the extra help and that made me feel good. He changed his oil and got a lot of work done while I mowed. If I hadn’t have helped, he’d have been out there hours longer. The Bible says two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If one falls down, one can help the other up. Mr. FixIt and I make a good team. ❤

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names. Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭147:3-5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Sacrosanct

Sat, 14 Apr 2018 01:30:03 -0600

“It’s good to love again.”

Fridays. Since we first started dating, Fridays have been declared “sacrosanct”…too important or valuable to be interfered with. We don’t make plans with anyone on Fridays. That’s OUR day. We go where we want, do what we want. No obligations other than to enjoy each other’s company to the fullest. I’ve come to love Fridays. We look forward all week long to our special day. It’s special because we declared it so.

We packed up from our week at the farm and headed back to the Ponderosa yesterday. We went to Walmart and bought oil and a filter so I could change the oil on my truck before we leave next week for the beach. It was only the second time I’ve changed the oil and Mr. FixIt sat right there and answered any questions I had. He handed me tools. And he offered words of encouragement when things didn’t go quite as smoothly as they had the first time. First, I tried using the creeper…that thing you lay on and roll under the vehicle. The new ramps Mr. FixIt bought aren’t as high as the old ones and with the creeper under me, I was feeling way too cramped. So I scooted back out and started over by wiggling under the truck. The engine was still pretty warm so the oil was runny and when I took the plug out of the oil pan, it sprayed everywhere. All over me…in my hair. What a mess. But, eventually…I got it done.

I have never had a qualm about doing hefty projects around the house, but I always deferred things like changing the oil to the man of the house or the guy at Jiffy Lube. It never occurred to me to do these things. But after Mr. Virgo died, I felt so incompetent at so many things. I vowed I would learn how to do anything that needed doing so I would never feel that vulnerable again. Mr. FixIt is an excellent teacher and has infinite patience with me. At first, I think it bothered him a bit that I wanted to do things myself. It gives him great pleasure to do things for me. Now he seems to get a big kick out of watching me accomplish something and be so proud of myself.

Loving after loss is different. I’m much more independent and assertive than I have ever been. This love encompasses fierce bravery and incredible tenderness. Case in point…I was putting laundry away yesterday when the song “At Last” came on the playlist. Out of the blue, I was standing in Rivers Restaurant on a crisp April day…dancing in Mr. Virgo’s arms. Our first, and only, dance was at our wedding reception. Nine times out of ten, I can hear that song and smile. Not yesterday. I sat on the edge of the bed and cried. It’s a short song. It was soon over and I dried my eyes and went on about my work. Later, I walked through the kitchen and Mr. FixIt was doing dishes. I stopped and watched him for a few moments. When he was finished, he turned and saw me standing there and smiled as he wiped his hands.

“I love you more than I ever dreamed possible,” I said. “And, even with that deep love, I just sat on the bed and cried when “At Last” came on.”

He knows the significance of the song. He opened his arms wide and drew me into his embrace. He held me close and whispered into my hair.

“Of course you did, sweetheart. It brings back memories.”

That’s all. No attempt to jolly me out of it. No rush to move me along and change the subject. Just honor. And love. And support. And validation. No one…no one could ever ask for anything more beautiful than that. What a wonderful man.

I love Fridays. ❤

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” ‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭4:8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Missing My Mom

Thu, 12 Apr 2018 01:30:31 -0600

“Do you miss your mom when you’re sick?”

I felt perfectly fine all day yesterday. I ran errands and visited with people. Then, at the end of the day, I got my bangs cut and my stylist said she had a sore throat and felt a cold coming on. By the time I got home, I was feverish, achy, stuffy, coughing…just, ugh. I’m sure I couldn’t possibly have gotten it from her that quickly, but it sure came on fast.

I came home, used my Zicam and took DayQuil and slept for an hour. Used my inhaler. Took my vitamins. Drank tea. Did a tribal dance and twirled a dead chicken over my head. I’m kidding about the dead chicken, but I’d do just about anything to keep from getting a full fledged cold.

Remember when you were a little kid and your mom would take care of you when you were sick? I liked that. Mom would put her cool hand on my fevered brow and go get the thermometer. She would give me a couple of baby aspirin or maybe a piece of that hideous Aspergum. Then she’d make toast and tea. Or milk toast…a slice of toast with warm milk poured over it and sprinkled with sugar. That I wasn’t crazy about. Sometimes she would cuddle me on her lap and sing “Bye-o Baby Buntin” then she would tuck me in and turn down the lights. If I was really sick, she pulled a chair up by my bed and read stories to me till I went to sleep. I miss my mom. Even today when I’m sick, I miss my mom. I have Mr. FixIt, thank God. But nothing ever replaces your mama’s hand on your fevered brow. ❤

“Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise.” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭17:14‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Doing the Happy Dance!!!

Sun, 08 Apr 2018 01:30:47 -0600

“Organized Chaos”

Wahoo! I not only got the taxes done, but I found the results to be quite pleasing. I don’t know why I was so worried. I had myself convinced I was going to have to pay a huge amount but that didn’t turn out to be the case. I feel such a heavy load has been lifted. Now I can go get the new brakes on my truck this week. I was putting it off till I was sure about the taxes.

Getting these deadlines and the taxes behind me has opened my coming days to more enjoyable pursuits. We’re going to spend more time at the farm to enjoy all of grandma’s flowers. We’ll start preparing for our trip to the beach. There are some outdoor things at both houses that need doing…cleaning off the porches, trimming some shrubs, some minor hope repairs. Not to mention start cleaning out that huge building behind Mr. FixIt’s house. I’m telling you…even THAT tops doing paperwork and taxes!

The other day, I heard from Tammy. Those of you who have been around for a while may remember the story about meeting a woman in the Hot Springs Pool in Glenwood Springs. She had just arrived in town after driving from Cincinnati. I was leaving the locker room and saw her standing there, clutching her bag and peeking out at the pools. She wasn’t sure of the procedure. I told her how everything worked and when she came out, she sat by me in the therapeutic pool…the one that runs at 105 degrees.

We had a lovely conversation. I told her I was from Parkersburg originally, just up the river from her. Before long, she told me her father had passed away recently and she was struggling. I told her I had lost my parents, too. And it hadn’t been more than a year since I lost my husband. I quoted something from my blog…something I had just written the week before…but I didn’t identify myself as the author.

Suddenly, Tammy narrowed her eyes and asked. “Do you write a blog?”

“Why, yes. Yes, I do.” I replied, somewhat surprised.

“Is it something about marshmallows?” she asked.

“How would you know that?” I was stunned.

“I’ve been researching Glenwood Springs and your blog came up. I’ve been reading it for a while now.” Tammy smiled.

This has happened a lot over the last couple of years as the blog gets around, but this was the first time anyone knew my work and I was humbled. Tammy has followed along all these years and on occasion, we reach out and say hello. The other day, she reached out and shared something deeper. It turns out, she was very ill last year. To the point she wasn’t sure she was going to make it. She wanted to let me know that the uplifting “notes from God” that shine through my posts helped keep her going. She sat in the hospital having treatments and looked for my posts, reading them over an over and they offered her comfort and courage and hope. And,l now, thank you God, she is well and traveling again.

I got such a lump in my throat when she told me that. It reassured me, yet again, that I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. She found me when she was mourning her father. Yet she kept reading all these years. Why? I know why. God gives me the words and He brings those who need to read them. That is my prayer before I write. God is so good…he is so faithful. He knew Tammy was going to need to hear from him in a real and tangible way, so he made our paths cross that cold November night in a hot springs. I almost didn’t stop that night. I was on my way home from Denver when I just got the pull…go there.

That still, small voice can bring the most amazing experiences into your life…the most beautiful people. You just have to listen…and be obedient.

Oh, and eleven years ago yesterday, I married Mr. Virgo. The week he died, I put two alarms in my phone to repeat every year. One was the exact time we said I do. The other was the last breath he took. I’ve been busy the last couple of weeks with writing and deadlines and taxes and the date slipped my mind. Till yesterday…when the alarm went off. I smiled and whispered, “Thank you for being part of my life.” Then I removed the alarm. I thought about it for a moment, and removed the alarm that would forever remind me of the exact time of his death, as well. I didn’t need either one anymore.

It was time.❤

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2:4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Coveting Spring

Sat, 07 Apr 2018 01:30:31 -0600

“Daffodils by the Cistern”

I set to work yesterday, determined to finish the taxes. I sorted through every bag of papers I brought to the farm with me, only to come up two papers short. By the time I discovered this, it was mid-afternoon so I texted Mr. FixIt. He was due to arrive in a few hours.

“Change of plans.” I texted. “I’m coming home.”

He is a patient and flexible man, thank goodness.

“Quince on the Creek Bank”

I did a quick walkabout and caught some pictures of the flowers at the farm before I packed up the important stuff and headed to The Ponderosa. As I drove through the countryside, I marveled at the earth waking up all around me. I came around a bend and the pasture near an old, broken down farmhouse was dotted with daffodils. Great splashes of yellow spread out before me and I smiled. Someone…long ago…planted all these little bulbs in this field. I knew. There was once a woman who coveted spring as much as me. I could imagine her living in what may have seemed a hovel…or perhaps, a castle to her. She worked hard to keep her family fed and her farm in order. Maybe she bought a bag of little daffodil bulbs at the feed store with her egg money…an impulse purchase meant to bring joy in the springs to come. And, long after she was dead and gone, I swung around that bend in the road and thought of the nameless, faceless woman with a love for all things fresh and new.

“Grandma’s Daffodils “

I whispered my thanks to her and drove on. ❤

““Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭12:27-31‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Why Do I DO This???

Fri, 06 Apr 2018 01:30:19 -0600

“It’s tax time!”

I wish I could blame my reticence for bookkeeping on “grief brain” but truth be told, I’ve never been good at record keeping. I have all the modern conveniences at my disposal…laptop, smartphone, iPad, Quicken, Turbo Tax…but do you think I can balance my checkbook every month? Categorize every transaction for tax reports? Keep important papers gathered in one place and filed in some semblance of order? No. That’s someone else you’re thinking of. If I did that, what would I have to write about at this time of year, right?

I’ve been at the farm the last couple of weeks. Writing deadlines, copying blog posts over, sorting papers, and balancing my checkbook so I can do my taxes. Monday morning, I started on the computer. It’s a new laptop so I needed to download Quicken. I went into Quicken online and there was 2015’s version ready to download. I thought I’d bought a newer version, but figured I must be mistaken. Download 2015. It didn’t recognize my old data file. Hmmmm. Ok, download data from bank. It gave me three months. I needed all of 2017. Call the bank help line. They talked me through downloading manually. Everything was duplicated. I deleted and reinstalled the program three times. The three months was fine. But anything older was wacky.

Yesterday, I chatted online with Quicken’s service department. They discovered that indeed I had purchased 2017 last year. It just wasn’t showing up. He put it in my shopping cart for me and talked me through the install and now I have all of my bank transactions clear back to 2001! Wahoo! I categorized last year’s transactions so I could run a spending report for taxes. And I reconciled my account…to the penny. If I would just keep up with this on a monthly basis, I wouldn’t have to go through this year after year. Maybe next year I can do better…who knows? In the meantime, today I do my taxes. If you hear of an earthquake in WV today, please disregard. It’s just me. ❤

“Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is.” ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭5:15-17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Standing on the Edge

Thu, 05 Apr 2018 01:30:48 -0600

“The Sweetest Love”

Ever since I changed my Twitter handle to @GriefMaven, I’ve been meeting the coolest people in the grief support community. I have had more interaction and made more connections in the last month than I did in all of the five years prior. I have to admit, I didn’t really “get” Twitter. You send some random thought out, you throw a few hashtags with it in the hopes someone else is interested in said hashtagged subjects, then they like your Tweet. Maybe you get the cherished “Retweet” where they like it so much, they send it on. Or…the Holy Grail of Tweetdom…they FOLLOW you! They like you enough to watch what you’ll say next. I get it now. You can truly build a community in Twitter and I must say I am enjoying it tremendously. It’s an excellent platform to build each other up.

In the process of tweeting and retweeting, I find writers I may not have found otherwise. Such is the case of Catherine Tidd. She wrote a guest post on Hello Grief (hellogrief.org) about dating. The horse has already left the barn for me, but some of you may be thinking about dating again. If so, I couldn’t have written a better article about it that Catherine did with “Time to Cast the Line”. (I’ll leave the link at the bottom of this post.)

Ever since I started dating Mr. FixIt, there has been this deep “feeling” I haven’t been able to express. It flits to the surface on occasion and I stuff it back down because people might not understand. Heck…even I don’t understand. So I stuff it back down, feeling like I should be celebrating something but can’t let myself. Catherine’s article articulates what I’ve been feeling so well, so I’ll just share it here. And then we’ll discuss it.

This is the best relationship I have ever been in.

There. I’ve said it. It’s the best, really. It’s deeper. It’s broader. It’s lighter. It’s easier. It’s filled with love and laughter and light and God. I was so afraid admitting this would somehow be disrespectful of what I had before. So, what does that mean about my marriage? My relationship with Mr. Virgo? Our life and love?

Absolutely. Nothing.

You know why? Because I’m not the same woman Mr. Virgo married. I’m not the same woman that lived with him. I’m not the same woman that loved him. I’m so much more now…BECAUSE I had him. BECAUSE I was married to him. BECAUSE I loved him. And…BECAUSE he died. I hate when people tell you everything happens for a reason. My friend, Debbie Weiss (@thehungoverwidow) says she hates when someone says everything happens for a reason, as if her husband’s death was necessary to stave off a plague of frogs. (Read her…she’s funny!)

I didn’t have to lose Mr. Virgo to gain some sort of amazing insight into my existence. I didn’t have to lose him to achieve a grand level of personal growth. But…those things happened, and I’m a different person than I was before. (Remember my pickle/cucumber analogy?) Like Catherine says in her article…who knows if Mr. Virgo would even LIKE who I am now? I’m stronger and much more outspoken. I’m a hundred times more independent. When I want to pick up and go…I go. He told me from the outset that he didn’t date women who wanted to pick up and go. He wanted someone who would be there with him. So…I was there. I don’t regret it. Not for a minute. But I’m not that same person. And, fortunately, Mr. FixIt knows that and understands me.

I could never find another man like Mr. Virgo. And if I did, maybe it wouldn’t work for me in this incarnation of myself. Does that mean I don’t still love him. Of course not. Does it mean I’ve “gotten over him?” Oh, h*** no! You don’t ever “get over” someone you loved with the white hot heat of the sun. But the sun is shining again. And…the sun shines bright now because I longed for the sun…I was so ready for the sun…I will cherish every moment I can get in the sun.

It’s ok if you don’t ever want to date again. I am behind you 100%. Some people are just happy as little clams to not be bothered. Good for you! You know yourself and that is awesome. But, if you feel…even a little bit…that you miss the companionship of another, the warmth of another, the humor of another….don’t be afraid. There are good men out there. There really are. Mr. FixIt is proof of that. This is the best…really. ❤️

www.hellogrief.org/time-to-c…

“And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us.” ‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:16-19‬ ‭NIV‬‬

#love, #MovingForward, #relationships

Thunder!

Wed, 04 Apr 2018 01:30:12 -0600

“He Brings Me Bluebirds”

Oh, there is nothing like a good ol’ thunderstorm and a hard rain on this old roof to bring me into my cozy “safe place”. As I sit in my familiar chair at the front window, I can see through the veil of rain to the far hillside. The neighbor across the way lost his culvert drain last spring and spent much of the summer building and hand carrying five gallon buckets of gravel up the hill to fill in around the new drainage pipe he laid. Now, there is a new waterfall to watch when the rain pours. The white splash of the water on the rocks below glows like a beacon in the gloomy darkness of the storm. Thunder crashes and the skies open and just as quickly, it drops back to the gentle rain we’ve had all morning.

Working on the computer here at the farm is a dicey proposition this time of year. The electric can go off at a moment’s notice and be off for days at a time. We had quite a wind blow through here a couple of hours before I wrote this. That can easily drop a tree or even a branch over the lines and put us out of business till the guys with the chainsaws arrive. Mr. FixIt was here and when he drove back to the Ponderosa yesterday morning, there was a huge tree down across the road about a mile and a half from the farm. When I saw that wind gust through this little holler, I just prayed God would keep the trees from tumbling down on this old house…and our old heads!

Seeing the new spring green creep its way up the hillside and filling in the lawns and fields reminds me we are inching ever closer to the warm days of sweet tea and porches. How we see the seasons is highly individualized. Some love winter, some hate it. Some cope by skiing, some by fleeing. It’s the same with grief. We each approach it in our own way and what works for one may not work for another.

As I was sitting here writing, a notification popped up on my screen in one of the widow’s groups I follow. A woman had posed a question. Someone had suggested she might benefit from seeing a counselor and she wanted our opinions. The discussion that followed involved a lot of differing opinions. When I offered that indeed grief therapy can help some who feel stuck, there was one woman who kept firing back that you can’t “treat” grief. I dealt with her in a loving way and told her I totally understood that talking with her widowed peers works for her as a way to cope and work through this journey we didn’t ask for. However, I was adamant in this…there is nothing wrong with seeking the help of a trained professional if you are feeling overwhelmed or stuck. Therapy is not intended to become a lifelong occupation. It is meant to give you a safe place to open up about your feelings in front of someone who is trained to watch for signs of severe depression or hints of thoughts of suicide. In my particular case, I was suffering from PTSD and received EMDR treatments which greatly improved the flashback and panic attacks I was experiencing. I am not a trained professional. I cannot give medical advise, I can only tell you what has helped me. I can listen. I can empathize. And I can share. How you walk this out is highly individualized. I’m just here to offer you encouragement and shine God’s light on the path ahead. We don’t “treat grief”…we experience it…and sometimes that experience includes talking to a mental health professional. There is no shame in that. ❤️

“Our sorrows are all, like ourselves, mortal. There are no immortal sorrows for immortal souls. They come, but blessed be God, they also go. Like birds of the air, they fly over our heads. But they cannot make their abode in our souls. We suffer today, but we shall rejoice tomorrow.” Charles Spurgeon

““Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭7:7-8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Gentle Guidance

Mon, 02 Apr 2018 01:30:01 -0600

“Working on my iPad in front of the big window.”

The Bible teaches us to teach others…to correct them in their ways…so that they might learn and grow and walk in the right direction with God. Yesterday, I was the recipient of such gentle guidance and it struck me deeply. It gave me a sudden insight into my own behaviors and was most welcomed.

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve mentioned several times how much work it has been to copy over the old posts from Facebook to my website. In looking back, I can see whining and complaining showing through my words. Sometimes it takes someone else to shine a light on a situation for you to really see it. That’s exactly what happened when a gentle reader wrote to me and pointed out the Bible loves a cheerful giver. I am giving to that new widow by making it easier for her to read the works that will speak into to her current situation. She pointed out that God uses ALL things for HIS good…and that includes when he put it on my heart to copy all this work over. I was reminded to think about what my spirit was while transferring. I simply love that and I am so grateful for her for taking this moment to teach me and gently correct my path. That is what we are supposed to do as Christians.

It reminded me of 2 Timothy 3:16-17. “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” I get busy and self absorbed and sometimes feel overwhelmed with writing deadlines. Between that and the taxes, I did not have my heart in the right place as I copied and pasted. I was just looking at it as another chore to be done. I wasn’t being mindful of the intent and for whom I was sacrificing.

Thank you, dear one. Thank you for the gentle correction and uplifting guidance. It changed my heart. ❤️

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭4:23‬ ‭NIV‬‬

He is Risen!

Sun, 01 Apr 2018 01:30:30 -0600

“He is Risen!”

May you Rejoice and have a Blessed Easter. What was once nothing more than a Hallmark holiday for me has become a day of Rejoicing in the Risen Christ. Mr. FixIt and I went to church last night. They offered two services yesterday and two today. We felt Saturday would be less crowded. Wow…were we wrong! There wasn’t a seat in the place at the 5:00 service. The Worship Team outdid themselves and Pastor Justin gave an amazing message about just exactly WHO Jesus really is. It was wonderful!

If you are a practicing Jew, this is the Passover season. I hope you enjoyed your Seders with friends and family and that your brisket was tender! I was a practicing Jew for 27 years. I organized the Seders for our small town. In 1986, we had 10 people. By the time I quit organizing them ten years later, 75 people attended. I had to finally give it over to a committee because it became too much. People brought side dishes and helped, but they always wanted me to make my famous Matzo Ball Soup and the Charoset and the Brisket and the Kugel. One year I even made homemade Gefilte Fish. It was a ton of work but there is nothing quite so fulfilling as feeding crowds their favorite holiday dishes.

I met my writing deadlines last week. Now it’s time to get those taxes done so it’s back to the farm tonight where I can spread out my papers without distraction. I’ve made continued progress on copying content over to the website. I wish I would have listened to my gut instincts four years ago and built the website then so I wouldn’t have this backlog. But, hindsight is 20/20. It will be great when everything is on the web page because you’ll be able to look back at the early posts more easily. When new widows come on board, they may not find posts they can relate to in my current writing. So I want them to have easy access to relatable topics.

It’s April…can you believe that??? My Pop-Pop was born 119 years ago. He died when he was 72. I had just graduated from high school and it was my first experience with death. My Grandma was so strong. She lost a son 15 years before in a plane crash. I miss them so much. Their farm offers me solace and it’s such a peaceful place to write.

Enjoy this beautiful spring day! ❤️

“They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭24:2-3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

That Time I Dated a Cowboy

Thu, 29 Mar 2018 01:59:28 -0600

“Riding off into the sunset.”

When hubby #2 and I split up, I held out for like…three years. Hoping it was just a midlife crisis he was going through. Ahhh, denial….it’s not just a river in Egypt. I was heavily invested in NOT losing that relationship which only further convinced him I was NOT who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And, it’s all good. It certainly wasn’t at the time, but it is now. He freed up my future.

Once I finally “got it”…he was not coming back…I started dating. Actually, what I was doing was LOOKING. High and low…all over that town. It was a small town. Everyone…and I do mean every single person…either knew my husband or knew OF him. Let’s just say, dating in a small town when your ex-husband is a prominent physician is no easy task. Just my last name scared most of them away. I turned to online dating. And found a cowboy.

Oh, he wasn’t a cowboy in the conventional definition. He was a renegade…a man’s man…a former Marine who had suffered more than his share of battles in this life. He lived nearly three hours away. Our kids were the same age yet he was eleven years my senior. He was crusty and wild yet wise with a huge heart. I believe there are no accidents in this life and we are put on paths that intersect with people we are destined to meet. These people serve several purposes. They offer learning moments. They can heal places that have been hurt by others. Sometimes they soothe scars…sometimes they make them. Sometimes, if we are truly blessed, we get to have a great, deep love with one of them. And, sometimes…lightning strikes twice.

The cowboy and I came together at a time of crisis for both of us. Ours was not a relationship that was meant to be happily ever after. Ours was meant to rip some horribly festering wound open, clean it out, and send each other on our way. Although breakups don’t usually feel good at the time, it was necessary and we parted honorably…with genuine caring for one another. This is why we have been able to remain friends for all this time.

We talk once or twice a year. And when we do, it is usually because he has a stone deep down that needs to see the light of day. Or, I do. We bring it out. We look at it. We discuss its qualities. Why is it there? Where did it come from? Is it necessary to keep hanging onto that stone, or can it be tossed aside? We dance around it and sing and celebrate the pains of life that finally heal.

We admire each other’s scars. They are the wounds of mighty warriors in the battles of life. War. Love. Loss. I tell him I admire his brave heart. He tells me he admires the light of God that shines through my heart. We are quiet a moment, then the dance is done till the next time there is a stone that needs extracting. He is an uncommon man, a cowboy, a rock hound, a wiry desert-dwelling renaissance man who tied a lasso around my heart long, long ago and dragged it into the light of day to be resuscitated after a marriage broke me.

It is good to be reminded from time to time where you once lived in this life. I don’t mean physically, necessarily. I mean emotionally, existentially, philosophically…even politically. It is good to be reminded we are exactly where we are supposed to be in this exact moment in time. We wished each other well with promises to keep one another in prayer…he on a sojourn in the desert southwest…I on a journey of love and light with a man who sings my song. ❤️

“And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭13:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Rain on a Tin Roof

Wed, 28 Mar 2018 01:30:17 -0600

“Boy Cat”

Mr. FixIt and I both have a stack of things to do so we’re hunkered down in our respective houses working away. There’s taxes and banking, a new computer to set up, bills to pay, and writing deadlines. Every day I get a greater sense of urgency to copy my Facebook posts over to my website and it stuns me how much content is there. I know there is an end, but it’s nowhere in sight at the moment. I have been copying each post to the website for the last sixteen months. The backlog is entered up to September 2014, with a few blank spots I have to fill in.

If you have to be stuck inside doing paperwork, at least the weather isn’t sunny and warm outside. It rained off and on all day yesterday and as I typed this post last night, a gentle rain pattered on the tin roof of the farm house. I cannot hear that sound without smiling. I know every sound, every creak, every settling whisper of this old house. When I am here, I am wrapped in the arms of family memories as comforting as one of grandma’s quilts. The weather forecast shows a prolonged rain pattern which is typical for this time of year in West Virginia. It’s mud season. So there will be a few more nights of rain song here at “Marshmallow Ranch.”

The daffodils are almost open here on the farm. This little holler stays a good bit cooler than some of the surrounding area because we don’t get a lot of sun. Our flowers are always just a little bit behind. When I was copying posts over yesterday, there were several pictures of the farm in all its verdant splendor. I want time to slow down from now to October. I want to pay very close attention to the buds and flowers and leaves and not miss a thing. I want to stay present and mindful. We are heading into my very favorite time of the year and I am going to enjoy every second of it! ❤️

“Ask the Lord for rain in the springtime; it is the Lord who sends the thunderstorms. He gives showers of rain to all people, and plants of the field to everyone.” ‭‭Zechariah‬ ‭10:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Peace

Tue, 27 Mar 2018 01:30:52 -0600

“Peace on the Porch”

I don’t think you can see in this picture, but there are some forsythia starting to bloom on the far side of the bank and some quince on this side. Another day or two and you’ll really be able to see them. Not much green on the hillsides yet, but the fields and lawns are greening up nicely here in West Virginia.

I came out to the farm for a little retreat because I have some writing deadlines. Yesterday, I worked on copying posts over to the website again. I have to spend some time on it every day and get it done before Facebook implodes. I’m up to the point in the blog where I am downsizing. Selling the house, getting rid of 95% of my personal belongings. Getting the house staged. I am not taking the time to read these posts as a rule, but a couple of the headlines caught my attention and I skimmed through two or three of the posts. OMGosh! I had totally forgotten how horrendous that whole process was! I am SO happy to be on the other side of it now.

As I was writing yesterday afternoon, I had the doors open to let the breeze through and air out the house. All of a sudden, I heard the screen door in the kitchen open and close. I jumped up like I was shot and looked in and there was Boy Cat on his way into the house. He took one look at me and thought better of it and backed out slowly. I went in and shut the door because I don’t have a hook on that screen. Tricky boy!

Then last night I was propped up writing this when I heard a mighty crash on the back porch and knew right away what it was. I had left the lid off the cat food can. I ran out and sure enough, there was a little possum in the can, munching away. I shooed him off and locked the lid on. Just a little while later, I had to break up a cat fight just outside the back door. Then not too long after that, I heard what I assume was the neighbor’s dog trotting up the creek past my bedroom window to see if there were any treats to be had. Sorry Mr. Doggy…Mr. Possum got here first!

Such is life back on the farm. I love it here and especially miss it in the spring. We need to stay here more now that the spring flowers will be in bloom before long. Life is good…no matter where we are. ❤️

““Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭11:28‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Here Chick, Chick, Chick!

Mon, 26 Mar 2018 01:30:34 -0600

“Here Chick, Chick, Chick!”

It’s springtime at #ruralking and Mr. FixIt and I went for cat food and got our fresh popcorn and chicky fix after church yesterday. I love the sweetness of the little peeps as they scurry from one end of their enclosure to the other. Snuggling close together for warmth, these tiny fluff balls with itty bitty feet will melt your heart. I wanted them all. I justified all the reasons we should have 300 chickens. They give eggs. We could sell the eggs. They look uber cool pecking around the yard or garden. Never mind that we don’t HAVE a garden. We have five acres…that’s good enough. The problem with having chickens…or any farm animals…is you have to actually, you know…BE there. We travel a lot. So, we get our chicken fix at Rural King.

I’m on sabbatical at the farm for a few days. I have some writing deadlines to meet. I need to sort my papers for taxes. I need to download data from my bank into Quicken so I CAN do said taxes. (If you have been here on any given April 15th in the last five years, you know what a mess I am keeping track of that kind of stuff.) Every year…same thing. And every year I swear the next year will be easier. And it never is. sigh

Update on the painting…it’s getting closer to being available. I had this great big exposé typed and chickened out. After I got blocked by these people, I started getting all kinds of spam in my e-mail. Who knows what they are capable of. Let’s just say, these Facebook pages that portray themselves as Christians and post tons of memes and have only been online a week and have nearly 6000 followers and promote prints of stolen artwork are totally uncool and you should be especially wary of any promoted post that uses a boat load of emoticons like ?? and ❤ and ? and ? and ? in their descriptions. Enough said. I’ll keep you aprised as to when the painting is available. If you want to be on my email list, you can sign up in the little box “Become a Rancher!”

Have a beautiful Monday! ❤

“Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭12:19-21‬ ‭NIV‬‬

My Source of Peace

Wed, 21 Mar 2018 01:30:31 -0600

“The Lord is my refuge, my source of Peace.”

I worked again yesterday copying my posts from the Marshmallow Ranch Facebook page over to www.marshmallowranch.com. I feel this sense of urgency to get that finished, especially with the negative press FB has been receiving of late. In the past, diving back into my early writings took me to dark places I really had no business visiting very often. I remember during the first year after becoming a widow, I took TOW-Wanda to southwest Colorado and parked her on my dear friend Sue’s ten acres overlooking Mesa Verde. Sue is my yogi earth mother friend who holds me in her heart from long distances in space and time. We just have this beautiful connection. I remember sitting with her, quietly having tea and watching the abundance of birds at the numerous feeders on her veranda. I was avoiding writing because it was too painful.

“You must write now…simply BECAUSE it is painful. If you wait too long, you will lose your voice. The angst will be healed and we will miss feeling your heart in your words.”

As I’m copying my early work, I can see what she means. I read the emotions in every word. The ups. The downs. The mask of happiness. The mask of relationships. The mask of strength. Inside I was screaming down the hallways of my 3:00 mind, jiggling doorknobs…desperate to get out of that hell I found myself in.

Five years out, I see that pain differently. I see the place when I started finding my refuge in God. When I truly learned to seek His face…His peace. I remember clearly the day I heard the Holy Spirit whisper, “You must tell them where you find your peace.” I remember clearly arguing with Him and saying, “Oh, no…I really don’t!” And…as in most arguments I have with God…He won.

I try to walk my faith out in my writing without beating people over the head with it. My grandma always said you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. I cannot change anyone’s views on faith. I don’t even try. I just tell you how I feel. I tell you what has worked for me. I tell you where I find my peace. I lay it all down here. Pick it up. Don’t pick it up. That’s not for me to decide. I know there are people who grieve without faith. I will never criticize another’s walk. I have enough trouble walking my own path. Personally, I cannot imagine doing this without God. He has brought me great comfort and peace. He is my refuge. But I love you and embrace you no matter what your grief walk looks like. I just pray my words help you in some way.

Grief is like wearing a pair of stiff leather shoes without socks…maybe with some gravel in them. Every step hurts worse than the last. You get blisters that break open and bleed. There are times you can barely walk for the pain. At some point, you think to shake the gravel out…like when I stopped looking at pictures of my dead husband in his casket. There…that’s a little easier. Then in time, you think maybe bandaids will fix everything and take the pain away…like when I tried dating WAY too soon only to find the wounds festering when I ripped the bandages off. Finally, I thought to ask God to take over and He led me to a cool spring and gave me a thick pair of comfortable wool socks to put on. Ahhhhh…..MUCH better. Finally, there comes a time when the leather has conformed, molding and cradling to your feet and carrying you step by step through your life. These worn-in shoes will never fall off…will never wear out. They’ll be there forever, reminding you of how awful they were when you first put them on. And one day, you will look down and smile because they’ll remind you…not so much of the pain, but of the love you walked with before you got them.

They become love shoes. ❤️

““I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”” ‭‭John‬ ‭16:33‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Feathers

Wed, 14 Mar 2018 01:30:48 -0600

“Matching Feather Tattoos”

Ever since Mr. Virgo died, I see birds in unexpected places…bluebirds in particular. They came to me when I sat crying at his grave many times. Once, three bluebirds actually came and sat on the open truck door as I rested my boots on the armrest. It was so comforting to me. People give me feathers. I find beautiful feathers everywhere. If they aren’t actually FROM him, they certainly make me think of him and smile.

A couple of months ago, I was out at the farm feeding the kitties and checking inside. I have a habit of laying the feathers I find up on my grandma’s buffet next to a heart shaped rock I brought to West Virginia with me. It was on Mr. Virgo’s grave and I was afraid someone might take it. Now it rests where I can see it and the feathers. I noticed on that day, one of the feathers was missing. I looked all around and under the buffet but it was gone. I was in a bit of a hurry and left, forgetting all about the feather.

Last week when I was feeling so bad about the upcoming angelversary of Mr. Virgo’s passing, I wanted to go to the farm. It’s my touchstone…my safe place. I needed the comfort of familiar surroundings. Mr. FixIt drove out with me. While he was checking the mail and the bird feeders out front, I went on in the house. As I walked through the dining room…there was the missing feather on the floor.

Seriously.

“Ahhh, it’s YOU!” I said as I stooped to pick up the feather. “You stinker…you told me you’d let me know you were here. I’ve got to say…I’m impressed!”

Mr. Virgo always told me he would do whatever he could to let me know he’s with me. God knows that, so He gives me reminders of my sweet Mr. Virgo. Feathers. Bluebirds. Music. It was very sweet.

I heard yesterday that the publishing company I interviewed with last week decided to go with another author for their book project. The acquisitions editor wanted me to know I was in the top of the list and they loved my writing. She also said she was disappointed but hoped she could contact me should a book that might fit come along. I threw another book idea back to her so we’ll see if there’s any interest. In the meantime, I’m in discussions for another project I’m hoping with come through. I know God will place me where I need to be and He’ll open the doors to make it happen…in His time. ❤

““Ask the Lord your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights.”” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭7:11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Calming the Waters

Tue, 13 Mar 2018 01:30:29 -0600

“Psalm 107:29 …the waves of the sea were hushed”

I woke up yesterday after a fitful night. I didn’t close my eyes till 3:30 in the morning…ruminating. That’s what my brain does WAY too often. Good reason this time, though. I awoke and the first thought was…this is the day. It’s here. How do I feel?

I felt…ok. Not up, but not down. Just…there.

I did my devotional. I read your kind and supportive comments. And I started my day. Mr. FixIt asked if I wanted to go to town with him, but I told him I really just wanted to stay home. A little self care was in order. I spoke with people yesterday I hadn’t talked to in years. People reached out to me. I got a ton of virtual hugs. And a bunch of real live ones. It was good.

I love how God answers prayers. He stilled the waters of my soul and filled me with peace yesterday. I puttered in the kitchen and made pot roast…one of my go to comfort foods. After dinner, Mr. FixIt and I watched The Voice…one of my go to comfort activities. I ended the day with a phone call with my sister-in-law, Robyn…one of my go to, all-time favorite people. It was a peaceful day.

The other day, I was reviewing my social media accounts. I just don’t reach people other than word of mouth. The word “grief” is not in the name of my blog and while grief is not my only topic, it is still a big part of what goes on here…at least in the archives and when the waves come. When I created my Twitter account, Marshmallow Ranch had too many letters to go in the name so I abbreviated it making it even harder to find. I sat back and thought about it a while and suddenly a name popped in my head. “The Grief Maven”. Maven is Yiddish for expert and while not all people know the origins, enough people have an understanding of the urban definition, however tangentially. I created a Twitter account…@griefmaven…and started just putting out some memes I created with stuff I share about grief here. In one week I’ve had more activity than all the five years of the other account. A lesson learned in social media marketing.

I posted a tweet yesterday about it being the five year angelversary and within an hour I met two other widows who lost their husbands within a couple of weeks on either side of me. I love that. People I never would have had the opportunity to meet come together because of this blog. God stuff…very cool.

So, I ended my day in a good space. The waters were stilled and I’m ready to see what good things come next. ❤

“He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭107:29‬ ‭NIV‬

Peace Be Still

Mon, 12 Mar 2018 01:30:00 -0600

“Peace Be Still - The Belonging Co”

The pain of new grief is nearly indescribable. It takes physical form in your body keeping you from drawing a deep breath or sleeping or eating. Like an amputee, you have had half of your heart removed and you don’t know how to live like that. It was brutal. Wave after wave of grief crashed over me with no time for a breath in between. I felt I would surely drown. I was numb. I couldn’t retain information. I couldn’t watch a movie or read a book.

After a couple of years the waves were a little less forceful, a little less often. But the memory of the pain filled me with fear. What if it came back? What if it never stops? I wasn’t sure I wanted to live like that forever. I wasn’t sure I COULD. As soon as I began to feel a wave coming I panicked. There were so many nights I lay awake…all night long. I can’t tell you how many nights I was up throwing up all night. It was so incredibly painful.

Through my writing I found an outlet for the pain. Through my faith I found an outlet for my fear. Last week I let some of that fear slip back in as I anticipated today. Five years gone. How can that be? I’ve knitted together a totally different life now. He’s been gone almost as long as we were married. I can’t smell his skin anymore, yet I can describe my memory of it. I can’t see his hands anymore, yet I can describe how they felt when he guided me to a table in a restaurant. That was my biggest fear…forgetting. Time twists our memories and they fade. And that made me sad…again.

Peace Be Still. This song lifted me all weekend. The worship team at our church played it Friday night at the women’s conference and it stuck with me all weekend. They played it again in church yesterday. I downloaded it in the lobby on my way out and played it over and over yesterday as I browsed through photographic memories of Mr. Virgo and me.

The first line speaks to me. “I don’t want to be afraid every time I face the waves.” After the chorus…”I’m not gonna be afraid ‘cause these waves are only waves.” In acute grief when I was physically mourning, the waves were urgent and overwhelming. When it got to the point I was fearing the waves, I had to remind myself I had survived them 100% of the time up to that point.

My favorite line of the song comes later.

“Peace be still You are here so it is well Even when my eyes can’t see I will trust the voice that speaks Peace, Peace Over me”

I made a conscious decision yesterday. I’ve decided to celebrate Mr. Virgo’s birthday as my day of remembrance of him. That day is associated with happy thoughts. I think focusing on the sad days is keeping me in that sad place over and over and over and maybe that isn’t as helpful as it used to be. It’s an evolution of grief…looking forward since that’s the direction I’m going. That doesn’t mean I won’t remember or feel sad. It doesn’t mean I won’t have waves on occasion. I’m all about feeling my feelings. I’m also a proponent of letting go and letting God work in me.

Anyway…as much as I hate the phrase “it is what it is”, there’s truth in that. I can’t change anything about what today is, but I can change my focus. I feel SO much better than I did late last week. I’ll do what I always do…put one foot in front of the other, lift my head up, and keep moving forward. ❤

youtu.be/dUpKZz0Nm…

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:34‬ ‭NIV‬‬

God Always Knows

Sun, 11 Mar 2018 01:30:21 -0600

“Lewis Cemetery”

As I’m sure you can tell, I’ve been dreading the fifth angelversary of Mr. Virgo’s death tomorrow. I’ve been really struggling the last week…to the point one of my dear friends contacted me yesterday to see how I was doing. Actually, by yesterday morning I was feeling much better, but I still felt something was missing. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then a chain of events happened that directed my day and by last night I was lifted back up and set on solid ground. Here’s how it went down.

First, I slept a solid ten hours and awoke feeling refreshed. I’m not a terrific sleeper as a rule, but I slept like a stone. Mr. FixIt informed me a neighbor passed away and he needed to go to the funeral home. I assumed he would go without me, and quite frankly I didn’t think going to a funeral home when I was feeling down about my own loss was such a terrific idea. Then, he asked me if I wanted to go. We were at a funeral last weekend. Here, we were just going to the viewing. I didn’t know anyone, but something told me I should just go…so I dressed and went along.

I was introduced around to the family. I hugged the widow and spoke quietly with her for a bit, offering what comfort a stranger (yet a fellow widow) could give. I stood at the coffin, thinking the horrible memories of five years ago would come crashing on my head at any moment…but they did not. Instead of seeing Mr. Virgo in his casket, I saw a man who was very much missed by his best friend and my heart went out to her. I felt honored to be there and not sick or devastated. My dread started to dissipate.

We ran home to change and Mr. FixIt asked what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to run over to the cemetery where my great grandfather is buried. I hadn’t been there since I was a teenager and I wanted to see if there were any other family members from my tree buried there. So, from the funeral home to a cemetery. What could go wrong?

The day was brisk but sunny. As we drove out the two lane blacktop, we passed a field and I did a double take. There, standing in the middle of a pasture, was a young man…high school age, perhaps…with a music stand playing a trombone! The sight was so incongruous Mr. FixIt and I both burst out laughing. The cemetery was around the next bend and as we walked among the tombstones, the timbre of the trombone wafted gently on the breeze over the far ridge. I could not help but smile, feeling God was sending me a sweet gift.

The cemetery was a sight when we arrived. All of the flower containers had been knocked over, flowers strewn among the graves, flags honoring fallen soldiers laying on the ground…some half covered with leaves. We were preparing to leave when I turned and said, “I can’t leave them like this.” So, we walked around, straightening up, calling the dead ones by name. I remember so often going to visit Mr. Virgo’s grave across the road from our house in Colorado. I laid stones around the perimeter…one stone from every trip I took. I realized one of the things I was missing…and hurting over…was not being able to visit Mr. Virgo’s grave tomorrow. Instead, God lead me to visit an ancestor I never knew. Again…the feeling of dread lifted more.

We were so close to the farm, we decided to go on out. Whenever I am feeling down, that farm is my panacea. I fed the kitties and walked through the rooms…touching the furniture, the doors, my grandparents bed. I walked around the house and checked on my ‘67 Franklin camper…”Joy”. I turned to Mr. FixIt.

“Can we take her over to your place soon and start working on her?” I asked hopefully.

“You bet we can.” Mr. FixIt smiled and gave me a big hug.

Lift, lift, lift.

We stopped and visited my cousin’s wife at her barn. She was feeding the chickens and the big white rabbit named Isabella.

Lift, lift, lift.

We drove to town and had supper at my favorite diner.

Lift, lift, lift.

We came home and I sat down to write. My dear friend who had been so concerned about me yesterday morning called and asked if I felt better after my drive. I really did! You know…every year is going to be another year since Mr. Virgo died. There will be times of sorrow. There will be reminders and waves of grief. I know I have the added blessing of having Mr. FixIt in my life. His heart is big enough to hold me AND Mr. Virgo. Such a good, good man. Letting go and letting God lift me up was the solution all along. There’s nothing God and a little sunshine can’t fix! ❤

“Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will be seen upon you.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭60:1-2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Full Armor of God

Tue, 06 Mar 2018 02:30:22 -0600

When I first began writing this blog…I mean, earnestly writing…I was reeling from the sudden loss of my husband. I wrote from a place of pain and my heart spilled out onto these pages with the fresh blood of grief. I was a Christian, I was “faithful”, but I did not bring God into the equation when it came to this blog. I did not want to offend anyone. I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. It had nothing whatsoever to do with being “politically correct”. It had everything to do with being respectful. There’s nothing wrong with that and it worked…until that day in church when I got a “text from God”.

I’ve told you that story, but those of you who are relatively new here may not have heard it so I’ll give you the Cliff Notes version. I can always tell when I’m about to have some spiritual insight. I feel this kind of antsy electricity running up my arms and up the back of my neck. I’ve learned to sit up and take notice because it always turns out to be monumental.

On the particular Sunday in question, I felt the Spirit touching me and I asked what he wanted.

“You have to tell your readers where you find your peace.”

“Oh, no…really and truly I don’t,” I thought. “I’m not going full gospel in my blog. I’ll drive away people and lose readers. I won’t do it. You can’t make me!” I was having quite the internal argument with God when my phone, sitting in top of my purse on the pew beside me, began to vibrate. I looked down and there was a text from a friend in Florida.

“You cannot run from God’s love!”

Wow. Ok. When you get a text from God, in Church…you’d better listen. From that day forward, I put a scripture at the bottom of every post to illustrate what my thinking was when I wrote it. As time has passed, I have become more and more bold in my writing and have had more discussions that include my perspectives through the lens of my faith.

I am not “religious”, per se. I am faithful…faith FULL. I know what God’s Love has done for me. I know that I would never have survived what I’ve been through if I did not have my faith. I promised God that day in church that if he would bring me the words and the people to hear the message, I would put my heart and soul into my writing. I pray over my keyboard that I shine his light through my words into a dark and troubled world…into dark and troubling times in people’s lives. In particular, to those grieving a loss.

I debated and prayed about this post in particular. I don’t usually bring up the opportunities I receive to write something until it’s a done deal. Something about tempting fate. This one is different though. So, here goes.

The other day, I was contacted by a publisher regarding the possibility of me authoring a book for them. I’m flattered and excited about the possibility. We have a phone conference scheduled today. It sound like an excellent opportunity. The only thing is…this particular book they want me to write doesn’t include religion. That is like asking me to write a book without verbs. They have published faith-based books before so I’m not sure why this one is different. I’ll tell you what I think it is. I think God gives us opportunities to stand up for him. I think he wants to see if I will wear the full armor…or just a sweatsuit.

So, here’s what I’m going to ask you to do. At 1:00 EST today, will you pray that I speak the correct words to sway them to change their minds about the inclusion of faith in this book and, soften their hearts so that they see the writing they chose me for COMES from God and should be allowed to flow into this book. The internet is a great big place. It is no accident that they found Marshmallow Ranch in their search for grief writers. Pray that I stand strong and shine his light. ❤️

“Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel,” ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭6:19‬ ‭NIV‬

Photo Credit: John Everett Millais - Joan of Arc

The Upside of Disappointment

Sat, 03 Mar 2018 02:30:36 -0600

Homemade Egg Noodles

I was so excited Thursday! I was heading out for a weekend with the Girl Campers and even got to leave a day early. I had reservations in a cabin. I was meeting old friends and new. I was pumped!

I got the truck packed, with WAY too much stuff, and headed south through a driving rain. It was only a two hour drive so no big deal. I stopped at a Walmart near my destination and bought the ingredients for beef and noodles…my contribution to Saturday’s Soup Night…our tradition. I arrived at the cabin around 3:00 in the afternoon, got everything unpacked, greeted the host, and decided to take a nap. I couldn’t seem to get warm for some reason.

Within an hour, I was burning up and feeling sick. I stayed the night and awoke with a rip roaring headache so I begged off and came home. I don’t think it’s a bug…just a bad migraine. But, darn it all! I was really looking forward to this weekend. On my way home, I got some strong coffee and that actually helped and after a while, I felt much better.

I got a phone call from my cousin’s wife as I was driving home. She and I are very close. She was calling to let me know her mother passed away and could she come by in the afternoon on her way back from the funeral home. That’s when I knew…I wasn’t supposed to be at the girl’s weekend. I was supposed to be here for my sister/friend and offer comfort and support.

It is customary to offer food to the bereaved and I just happened to have all the ingredients for beef and noodles. That is, until I remembered I left the package of frozen homestyle noodles in the freezer at the cabin. So, I looked up a recipe for homemade egg noodles. I found a great recipe, AND a cute blog, at afarmishkindoflife.com/homemade-noodles. You have to let the noodles dry for two hours and I left all my baker’s racks at the farm. I found one that goes in the bottom of a huge stock pot. And, I improvised with a colander turned upside down. Now I can send a nice pot of beef and noodles home so they don’t have to cook for a while. I imagine they’ll get plenty of food from the neighbors so this will freeze well if needed.

As I always say, things can change on a dime and what starts out as a disappointment can turn into a blessing if you change your focus. I’m sorry I’m missing my gal pals, but I’m happy to be where God needed me more. ❤

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” ‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭5:16-18 NIV

Change Your Focus

Fri, 02 Mar 2018 02:30:53 -0600

“Imagine if we obsessed about the things we LOVE about ourselves.”

I’d love to have all the hours back that I obsessed about the things I didn’t like about myself. My hair. My body. My nose. My “flaws”…real or imagined. Can you imagine if we never, ever looked in the mirror and hated something we saw? Oh…what I really hate is that I put my faith in someone who judged me by my appearance. I really hate that I saw my self-worth through someone else’s lens. For…far…too…long.

One of the wonderful things about rapidly approaching Medicare age is the ability to see myself as I truly am. I’m a slightly overweight, active grandma with great hair and pretty feet. I was talking with Mr. FixIt this week when we went on our little trip. I was telling him about a time in my life when I really hated who I was. Then I grew to hate that I couldn’t speak up and change the situation I was in that contributed to it. He looked at me and smiled. He said, “Well, you sure are a strong, opinionated woman now. You don’t take crap off of anyone!” My heart exploded. He GETS me!

Every day, I focus on my word of the year. Presence. I am not that naive young girl who went into relationships looking for a knight in shining armor. I am not that willowy young thing who could eat anything I wanted and not gain an ounce. I don’t have the stamina that I had when I was 30…40…50….heck, 60! But, I love who I am. I am more of the woman in Proverbs 31 than I ever have been.

Pastor Justin illustrated God’s forgiveness last Sunday in a way that will forever change how I look at myself. He was sitting at a table with a bottle of water. He always keeps a small towel nearby because it’s quite hot up there under the lights and he has a tendency to get fired up. He was talking about how we are made new when we accept Christ in our hearts. He died for our sins. That means, they are taken away. The old is gone.

He covered the water bottle with the towel. “This is what happens when we are forgiven.”

He pulled the towel back a bit. “The enemy wants us to keep looking back. He keeps reminding us of who we were. But that’s not who we are now.”

He picked up the bottle, totally wrapped in the towel and said, “When we’ve been saved, God looks at us and sees Christ…not the old, beat up, soiled version of us…but the Christ-loving version.”

My eyes swelled with tears when the full realization hit me that I don’t have to carry around all that baggage…all those burdens…all that self-loathing. It is not prideful to love and appreciate yourself as a child of God.

I like my feet. I like my smile. I like my compassionate heart. I like the way my hair is graying with natural streaks. I used to pay a lot of money for that. I love the way every cell in my body was made new when I was saved. Appreciate yourself. Love yourself. Not in an arrogant, self-centered, narcissistic way. You are the only YOU there is in the world. The only YOU that has ever been or ever will be. God made you just this way with the very gifts the world needs that only YOU can give. Since scripture tells us to love others as we love ourselves the opposite must also be true. Love yourself as you love others. ❤

“We love because he first loved us.” ‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:19‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Morning Walkabout

Thu, 01 Mar 2018 02:30:16 -0600

“Rhododendron and the gas light”

What an absolute treat it was to wake up out at the farm yesterday morning. Grandma’s bedroom is right along the creek’s edge and with all the rain we have been having, the sound of the water riffling along was like a lullaby. I slept so well and awoke refreshed and ready to face a busy day.

Mr. FixIt and I did a morning walkabout on the property to check things out. He moved some fallen limbs from the ditch along the road and placed them on the burn pile. The daffodils are up about 8” high already and the grass is greening up nicely. I’ll need to mow before too long to mulch up the leaves that fell over the fall and winter. The rhododendron gets huge buds on them in the fall. They winter over and won’t bloom till late May or early June. They are still beautiful as they awaken from winter with a freshened shine to their leaves. They don’t drop their leaves like so many other plants. They just droop down all winter then stand up with their arms stretched wide in the spring.

I am leaving today for a long camping weekend with the Girl Campers. We’ll be staying in cabins this trip. We try to get together in the late winter when the roads aren’t too bad. We work on whatever craft projects we have going. We make soups to share. These are some of the nicest women I have ever known and I look forward to these trips with great anticipation. I’ll share projects and recipes with you along the way but my writing may be a bit sparse this weekend as I take the time to kick back with my friends and relax.

I do have some prayer requests for some wonderful people who are touched by illness. Please pray for healing, comfort, and God’s will. He knows who the prayers are for. Thank you all for your wonderful prayer support. There are many stars in your crowns. ❤️

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:26‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Date Night

Tue, 27 Feb 2018 02:30:01 -0600

“Budding Branches”

Mr. FixIt and I live a pretty frugal life. We are careful in our spending so that we can afford small indulgences now and then. We both came from mixed backgrounds. We’ve both known what it’s like to have very little and to have much. We have a healthy appreciation of both. Because we came together later in life, money will be something we watch carefully. We have become good stewards of what God has given us.

There was a time when either one of us would have gone to games and concerts without thinking of the cost. And to be honest, now that we give a great deal of consideration toward our outings, we actually enjoy and remember them more. I can’t tell you much about the vacation to Hawaii with Hubby #2, but I can tell you where we sat, where we ate, who we played, and the nature of the basketball game we attended a year ago. Of course, the company you keep makes a difference in how memorable an occasion is, don’t you agree?

We drove up to Morgantown yesterday to see WVU beat Texas Tech…soundly. It was a good game. Not nearly as tight and exciting as the Baylor game last year, but it was Senior Night and the graduating seniors were honored. It was fun to see them go out on a winning note.

As we walked to dinner from our hotel, we remarked at what a gorgeous, sunny afternoon it was. The trees are budding as a result of the recent warming trend which may end up being a bad thing if we get a late frost. The variety of birds is increasing and it is such a lovely thing to hear nature’s orchestra filling out.

We get to take one of the grandchildren out for breakfast this morning as she is a student here. Afterward, we are going to explore around the area where my ancestors lived. We stopped at Prickett’s Fort on our way up to Morgantown yesterday. I have people in my family tree buried there. It’s a fun, overnight trip, not terribly expensive, and filled with love. ❤️

“She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:27‬ ‭NIV‬‬

My Love Has a Name

Mon, 26 Feb 2018 02:30:45 -0600

“My Love Has a Name…Jesus”

I am always pumped on Mondays. My “Monday Morning Motivation” begins Sunday when Mr. FixIt and I walk into church. I’ve never gone to a church that has been so uplifting. I have never in my life looked forward to Sundays like I do now! It is such an amazing feeling to carry God with me into my week.

The Praise and Worship Team sang a new song yesterday by the Christian rock band, Jesus Culture called “Love Has a Name”. Our sermon series for the month of February was entitled “Love Handles”. Yesterday, Pastors Justin and Heather sat down and talked to us about 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 and put it in the perspective of our relationships. Let’s break it down.

“Love is patient.” When Mr. FixIt takes an inordinate amount of time to type something out on his phone, my first instinct is to grab the phone and do it myself in about half the time. I’m not considering the fact that my fingers are half the size and I’ve spent a gazillion more hours typing on a keyboard as a writer than he has as a mechanical engineer designing tools. I have to remind myself to emulate God’s love…God’s perfect love…and be patient. It isn’t always easy, but I try.

“Love is kind.” Show of hands…how many of you have cast a disparaging look at your significant other when he’s done something you think is stupid? How many have done the whole eye roll thing? That, in and of itself, is a very unkind thing to do. I’ve done it. I don’t like that I have. As a matter of fact, I read an article once by a marriage counselor and he said one of the tell tale signs that a marriage would fail was if one or the other partner rolled their eyes. It’s dismissive. It isn’t always easy, but I try.

“It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” I see this to mean those times when your significant other bests you in some way. Or you, him. Lording it over the other with one-upsmanship brings competition into the equation and that can be very damaging to a relationship. I remember Hubby #2 and I took an online IQ test and I came out higher than he did. He was a doctor and I always felt somewhat “less than”, for a number of reasons. I rubbed that in and it didn’t go over well. It isn’t always easy, but I try.

“It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” You dishonor others by being disrespectful. This is a self-seeking behavior. Love is not easily angered. Pastor Heather said she heard something a long time ago that has always stuck with her. “Take the pause.” When something strikes you wrong, stop and take a breath before you lash out and say something you will regret later. That brings us to “no record of wrongs”. How many times have we held onto those slights and honed them to a rapier edge, only to slash our partner with them later. Maybe we “forgave” them, but brought it up anyway. It isn’t always easy, but I try.

“Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.” Discord, cruelty, mean-spiritedness are evils that can take root in relationships, but the power of truth in real love is something you should always strive for. It isn’t always easy, but I try.

“It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” You should always protect your love. Always trusting doesn’t mean being gullible, but being fair minded and believe in your spouse. Always hope for the best in your spouse. And always persevere…keep going, even when the going gets tough. It isn’t always easy, but I try.

I have learned to love Jesus more than anyone or anything. Everyone…even those you hold the closest to your heart…will disappoint you. Jesus will never disappoint. If we hold him at the center of all equations, we have far greater chance of success in every relationship…family, work, friends, school…everywhere.

This is the song they sang yesterday…”Love Has a Name”. My love has a name…Jesus. ❤

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” ‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:4-7‬ ‭NIV‬‬

youtu.be/cZOBtpJ0_…

Grandmother Faces

Sun, 25 Feb 2018 02:30:23 -0600

“Grandma and me at about the same age.”

I met my gal pals for coffee yesterday…these magnificent ‘71 Divas Do Coffee. We started meeting once a month about four years ago to gather at a coffee shop and participate in a little “caffeine therapy”. I had a coffee group in Colorado that met once a week for 35 years and I really missed the camaraderie. I gathered up my friends and invited them out and now we can’t imagine not getting to see each other at least that once a month visit. There are now offshoots of the group that meet for lunch almost every week. Some of them meet to take care of a flower garden in the City Park. A few of them are going to drive down Monday to see a sick friend in Huntington. They are a grand group of gals with many common bonds…predominantly graduating high school together.

Some of us were talking yesterday about how different our grandmas were when they were our age. And how we looked at them then as SO old. We are just heading into our Medicare years. We are active, healthy, and youthful compared to our counterparts when they were 65.

Now, don’t get me wrong. My grandma was a hard worker. She could work circles around women half her age. But there were differences. Some grandmas in the ‘60s worked at home. They had raised their kids and their gardens…they washed clothes in a wringer washer and hung them outside to dry. They washed their kitchen floors on their hands and knees. They rarely went to the doctor. They baked their own bread, canned and preserved food from their land. They killed rattlesnakes and copperheads in the outhouse. They cut down trees and hauled brush. They wore sensible shoes and modest cotton house dresses with a belt and a pocket for their hankies. They may not have had much formal education yet they were smart in every way necessary. They knew their neighbors and they knew their bibles. They more than likely didn’t drink or smoke. They were a different breed.

Our generation had many more opportunities than our grandparents’ did. We moved from the farm and worked a 9-5 at an office or nursing at a hospital. We worked hard, to be sure…but not necessarily at hard labor. We got better educations, better healthcare. We voted and protested and worked for women’s rights. We bought our food in a grocery store. We had modern conveniences like automatic washing machines and dryers and dishwashers and microwaves. We bought ourselves some time. We had clubs and entertainment. We had television and news of world events. And we inched ever closer to that glass ceiling.

Fashion aside, 65 year old grandmothers now are vastly different than most grandmothers of the ‘50s and ‘60s. Did my grandma FEEL old when she was my age? Do our grandchildren SEE us as ancient like we saw our grandparents. It boils down to how WE feel and I feel younger in most ways than I did thirty years ago. I know that won’t last forever. I’m feeling the pain of arthritis in my hands and knees and hips. I don’t remember quite as well as I used to. I have to take a handful of pills at night. But, I’m telling you this right now…I won’t go down without a fight! Because…today is the BEST day…the ONLY day that matters. I’m looking forward to many more. ❤

“Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained in the way of righteousness.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16:31‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I’ll Pray for You

Sat, 24 Feb 2018 02:30:31 -0600

“I’ll Pray for You”

How many times do we say that? Something happens to someone and we automatically say, “I’ll pray for you!” We hear of a tragedy and we say, “I’ll pray for you!” How many times do we say that…and forget to pray? Or, how about when you’re scrolling through Facebook and someone asks for prayers. We might type “Prayers!” Or “Done!” Or my personal favorite…”???” A furtive “God, please give this woman what she’s asking for.” These are good things, don’t get me wrong. But we can do so much better.

I was working one afternoon after Mr. Virgo died and I noticed one of my coworkers was tearful. She was trying to hide it at her desk and I didn’t want to intrude. I got halfway down the hall when the Holy Spirit whispered…

“Go to her…now.”

“Awwww….c’mon. I’ve got a list of phone calls that would choke a horse! I haven’t even started the pharmacy refills yet. And I need to fax those reports. I’m really busy. Someone will help her. I’ll pray for her tonight when I get home.”

“Go to her…NOW!”

“Oooooooh…you mean…NOW! Sure!”

I turned on my heel and went back to my coworker’s desk. I didn’t say anything. She didn’t look at me, but she knew I was there. Her shoulders slumped and shook with silent sobs. I placed my hand on her shoulder and she immediately leaned into me and cried harder.

I whispered. “I don’t know what you’re going through right now…and I don’t need to know. But if you want, I would love to pray with you right now. Would that be ok?”

She whispered back, “Yes! Yes, please!”

I closed the door to her office, knelt beside her and took her hand. And prayed. I prayed for God’s love to wrap around my friend and comfort her. I prayed for strength and courage in whatever she was facing. I prayed God would use whatever trial she was walking through to bring her closer to him so she would know there was someone who always loved her, always had her back.

It didn’t take long…just a couple minutes. My friend felt so much better afterwards and my work was still there, waiting for me. I felt better, too. Because, I actually did what I said I would do. By praying with my friend, I did more than placate her to make her feel better. I called on the living God…the Highest Power…to come into the situation and work on it.

I once heard of a man in our church that was going through a rough patch. His friend was talking to him on the phone. They were both on the highway but several miles apart. The man asked his friend with the troubles to pull off at the next wide spot. Soon, he caught up and there, along I-70…the man placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, lifted his other hand to the sky, and prayed. Right there for all to see.

I don’t think you should ever miss the opportunity to pray with somebody. Of course, pray FOR them anytime. But pray WITH them whenever you can. It’s good for everyone. ❤

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭18:20‬ ‭NIV‬‬

A Taste of Spring

Wed, 21 Feb 2018 02:30:19 -0600

“Burger al Fresco”

One of the upsides of Facebook memories is documented progress. One of my readers shared a post yesterday that I wrote a year ago. I was declaring how gorgeous spring is in West Virginia. I observed the earth coming back to life, the shoots of spring bulbs exploding from the moist soil, the greening up of the world. I spoke of all the new babies being born in the fields surrounding the farm. And I talked about budding romances and how I was ready to try again. And here I am…a year later and in a relationship with a wonderful man. He is a constant reminder of how good God is to me.

We awoke yesterday to the most gorgeous of early spring days. I had a dream. I don’t remember my dreams like I used to before Mr. Virgo died. And I seldom dream of him. I dreamt I was supposed to send Mr. Virgo a text every day with a scripture in it. Suddenly, he stopped responding to my texts. I looked everywhere for him. I asked everyone if they had seen him and they just stared blankly back at me. Six months went by and then a year, then three. No word. Then, out of the blue, someone told me he had “moved on”. I felt confused. Did he move on as in, he left me for someone else? When I was fully awake, I realized what “moved on” really meant. I had an instant wave of the creepy crawlies on the backs of my arms, then it went away and I was fine. Grief visits fleetingly sometimes…like a sparrow flitting in the brush just out of view.

The temperature got up over 80 degrees. We had coffee by the pool and then headed to the farm. We cleaned inside and out. Mr. FixIt filled the bird feeders. I changed the spotlight on the three story barn. We stopped at the neighborhood grocer and bought a pound of fresh ground hamburger and sliced longhorn cheese. When we got home, we took the grill from the garage and put it on the deck by the pool and grilled burgers outside. It was sheer heaven to sit out in shorts and enjoy the evening.

Some days get burned in your memory to keep for all time. That was yesterday. There were a lot of trees down from the saturated soil and the brisk winds earlier in the day. Baby calves lay in the muddy fields by their mamas. A cardinal sang in the forsythia bush by the side gate. Mr. FixIt took the drone he got for Christmas and went outside to “play” after supper. I heard a tree fall in the woods beyond the field. A rooster crowed in the distance. Neighbors waved as they passed by. My heart felt full and ached with the beauty of it all. Jesus promised he would make all things new one day. Spring is his way of giving us a taste of things to come.

I am all too aware of how fragile this life is. It could be gone tomorrow. So I practice my word of the year and stay present. And I thank God for every moment. ❤️

“He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”” ‭‭Revelation‬ ‭21:5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

An Open Letter to the Shooter

Tue, 20 Feb 2018 02:30:16 -0600

“Writing in TOW-Wanda”

While the world recoils in horror at the havoc you have wrought, I want you to know something. I have tears for the terribly tragic loss of these beautiful people you have cut down who will never have the opportunity to reach their potential. But, believe it or not, I have tears for you, too. While those parents prepare to lay their babies to rest, I wonder if there’s anyone there for you. Because I have a feeling there hasn’t been…probably for a very, very long time.

I don’t know you. We are just beginning to get some details about who you are. I know you were adopted. I know your adopted father died several years ago and your adopted mother died in November. Your teachers tried to help from as far back as sixth grade. I heard the impassioned speech one of your former classmates made. She said they always knew there was something wrong.

I don’t know your whole story. I know you were adopted as an infant. But, I’d be willing to bet any amount of money that you were quiet and shy as a young child. Awkward. You didn’t fit in. You were bullied. You were never picked to be on the team. You were labeled as that weird kid. You didn’t get invited to birthday parties and sleepovers. You were lonely, sad, depressed and isolated, I can just about guarantee that. And you were angry. You lashed out with little self control.

Did you ever have someone to hold you and rock you and tell you how much you were loved? Did you have someone to take you to church and teach you about how much Jesus loves you? You had mental health issues and teachers tried and tried tried to help. But you somehow fell through the cracks.

I know this isn’t going to be the most popular post right now because moms and dads are putting their children in the ground as we speak. People are angry. People are crying out for change and somehow there needs to be change. If you never had access to those guns while you were in such pain, I can pretty much guarantee there would be seventeen families enjoying each other’s company tonight instead of trying to figure out how to keep on living. I don’t know how we could have prevented this tragedy but we as a nation need to figure it out. Now…before it happens again. Because…it WILL happen again.

While I cry for those who are in pain tonight, I shed tears for you as well. I’m so sorry you felt this was your only way to be heard. I’m sorry you didn’t get the help you needed. I’m sorry you didn’t know how to find your way back from the abyss. I’m sorry you lost hope. I know you are broken, and you will never walk free in the sunshine again. You won’t get married and have babies and vacations and grow old in a job you love and look forward to retirement. This is the price you will pay for the choices you made. There’s nothing that can be done about that. But I want you to know something….and this I know beyond a shadow of a doubt.

God loves you.

God STILL loves you. And so do I. You wanna know why? Because the God I know loves ALL of his children…equally. He loves you exactly the same way as he loves me and your mom and the policemen who captured you and your attorney and the judge and all the moms and dads and students of that school in Florida. Who can you think of that’s really, really good? The Pope? Mother Teresa? Billy Graham? Joel Osteen? Our Father in heaven doesn’t love you one bit less than he loves them. God hates the sin…but he loves the sinner.

That doesn’t mean you won’t be judged. You will…by the court of man and the court of God. But you can be forgiven. If you haven’t already, you can ask Jesus into your life and I promise you will never be alone again. You will always have someone who loves you. So, while I pray for those families your actions shattered, I will also be praying for you. I will pray that you seek shelter with God. I will pray that you get the help you need. I pray that you will talk to God every hour, every day, for the rest of your life.

A spirit of forgiveness is a noble thing. I hope those to whom you transgressed will someday find it in their hearts to forgive you. For their own benefit as much as anything. It is the hardest thing to wrap our minds around when some sins seem so much worse than others. God’s heart is broken over this, yet he still loves you. Always has, always will. ❤

“You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! Not only is this so, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭5:6-11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Love is an Action Word

Mon, 19 Feb 2018 02:30:31 -0600

I’m doing something different today. Usually I write my essay then I go read and find a bible verse that best suits my message of the day. It’s easier that way for me because I look for verses about a certain theme, read and study them, then choose the one that speaks to me. To take a verse and pontificate on it seems a bit foreign after writing for nearly five years the other way. But today…I want to talk to you about Romans 12:6-8 specifically.

As we always do, Mr. FixIt and I stood and held hands as we prayed and sang with the praise team in church yesterday. And, as I always do on the third song, I closed my eyes and prayed. I thanked God for all he has blessed us with. I thanked him for bringing me this fine man to stand with me in church to praise with me. I recited the Prayer of Jabez and asked that he bless me indeed, that he expand my territory, walk with his hand over me, and keep evil far from me that I may not feel pain. Then I asked…”If you have a specific message for me today, please deliver it to me through Pastor Justin.” Amen

We’ve been doing a series entitled “Love Handles”. Not the muffin tops above our jeans from eating too many Oreos, but the action word…LOVE. The love we take out into the world. As Christians, we are called to be different. We aren’t supposed to go out and blend into the world. We should be shining the light of the Holy Spirit out into the world so brightly that people take notice when we walk into a room. Pastor Justin’s first Bible reading yesterday was Romans 12:6-8. It tells us that God, in his infinite grace, has given us all gifts for doing certain things very well…be it prophesy, service, teaching, encouraging, giving, leadership, or kindness. If you have a talent that comes to you easily and you do it very well, that is your gift. That is what you are here to share.

Tears came to my eyes when I listened to the verse being read. “If God has given you the ability to prophesy, speak out with as much faith as God has given you.” Prophesy has several meanings but the one I believe was being directed to me was “preach”. As I have grown in my faith and through this blog, I was led by the Holy Spirit to include scripture in my writing. If you were here when that started, you may remember the conversation I had with God in church when I got that message loud and clear and I argued vehemently against it. I did NOT want to “be that person.” I didn’t want to be “preachy” and turn people off.

There have been instances when I see that people have “unliked” this page when I get too “churchy”. But I have to say, the most interaction this page receives is when my post is truly aligned with my heart, and thus…my faith. When I share my truth, my stories, through the lens of faith…they seem to reach through the miles and touch hearts. I’ve been feeling God nudging me to continue in that direction. That doesn’t mean every post here is going to be a sermon, because it isn’t. What it means is, I’m going to be a little less worried about what people think when I talk about God. It’s really easy to talk about God in a room full of believers. It is not nearly so easy to prophesy to those who don’t believe the same way I do. God has given me a gift of words. It is my duty to put them to the best use I can. I hope you will stick around and see where this goes because I think it’s going to get interesting. ❤

“So we are to use our different gifts in accordance with the grace that God has given us. If our gift is to speak God’s message, we should do it according to the faith that we have; if it is to serve, we should serve; if it is to teach, we should teach; if it is to encourage others, we should do so. Whoever shares with others should do it generously; whoever has authority should work hard; whoever shows kindness to others should do it cheerfully.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭12:6-8‬ ‭GNB‬‬

The Mountain

Sun, 18 Feb 2018 02:30:26 -0600

“My Hope is in You Alone” - MercyMe

I was writing last night and listening to a channel on Amazon Music called “Relaxing Christian Music”. MercyMe came on and sang “Even If You Don’t”. It’s about those times when your faith is challenged by the hardships you face in life. It made me think of the losses so many are facing. There are seventeen mothers and fathers preparing to lay their children to rest this week. It is easy to ask questions like, “Where was God during all this?” “How can God let bad things happen to innocent people…especially children?”

Life can be really difficult. It can be filled with challenges and unfulfilled dreams. Disappointments. Hurts. Horrors. And…it can be filled with absolutely unmovable mountains.

It’s easier to maintain our faith when the skies are sunny and life is good. When we are knee deep in blessings and goodness rains down on us like a spring shower, we’re good. But…what happens when the darkness comes? How do we maintain our faith when God seems to have abandoned us and is far, far away?

God is capable of all things. I know he can do anything. I’ve seen him do it. When I was a little girl and I sat at my grandma’s knee, I asked her how she knew Jesus was who he said he was. How did she know he really walked on water? She smiled knowingly and patted my hand. “You just have to have faith, pet.” she said in her wise grandma way. It took me most of my life to absorb that…and to believe it.

Faith.

What is faith? The Bible tells us faith is the “substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” The substance of my hope is a loving God who can move mountains. The evidence of things not seen is when he refuses and I still believe in him.

Sometimes God refuses to move the mountain that is in your way because that mountain is in HIS plan…not yours. My biggest mountain was losing Mr. Virgo. God knew that could shake my faith. So he let me see something. He let me see the essence of my husband’s spirit as it left his body. I was forever changed. Not only by the loss itself, but by the certainty that we go someplace else when we die, we are not alone and there is a power far greater than me at work in the world. That power…to me…is God. I will not understand the whys until I get where I am going…but I know the WHO.

This has been a difficult year so far. There has been so much loss in the world. So many unmovable mountains. When I face these times, I find leaning into God and trusting him is the only way to get through it.

He CAN move mountains. And…sometimes he chooses not to. It is the pure essence of faith when you can still believe in God when you have trouble seeing the evidence of his existence.

My HOPE is in him…even when he doesn’t answer.

MercyMe - Even If You Don’t https://youtu.be/B6fA35Ved-Y

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭11:1‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Staying Present

Fri, 16 Feb 2018 02:30:13 -0600

”My burdens are light as a feather because God carries them for me.”

I love Uma Girish. Uma is a Grief Guide…one who helps others walk their path with valuable tools she gives them along the way. Uma wrote a post about mindfulness that I wanted to share with you. We talk about mindfulness here a lot. My word of the year is “presence”. I practice mindfulness frequently. I sure wish I could say I practice it all the time, but my monkey brain kicks in and takes me on wild tangents. I get lost in the weeds. Then, Spirit sends me something…a message, a person, a hint. Yesterday…I was sent back to Uma.

I have to admit…I’m struggling a little bit right now. I’ve been trying to put my finger on it and it’s a slippery little sucker. Is it this sinus infection I’m battling? Is it Seasonal Affective Disorder? Is it missing my family in Colorado? Is it the state of our world, politically…morally…naturally? Is it the horrific tragedies that seem to be around every corner these days? The answer is yes…all of the above.

And…it is grief.

Grief. That ever-present underground river that flows just under my heart. I’m counting down now to the five year anniversary of Mr. Virgo’s death. Five years. We were married just three weeks shy of six. We knew each other for seven and a half. I’m getting to the point where I’ve been without him as long as I had him. And it still hurts. I have this wonderful new man in my life who I’m over the moon in love with. And it still hurts. I’ve been incredibly blessed with this blog and the opportunities it has given me. And it still hurts. I have everything I need and then some. And. It. Still. Hurts.

Yesterday morning I was flailing. I laid in bed with my cell phone, playing a game of solitaire. My stomach churned from the antibiotics I started the night before. My ears still had fluid in them and it sounded like someone wadding up a potato chip bag every time I swallowed. It’s been raining and dreary for several days. All I wanted to do was pull the covers over my head and stay there the rest of my life. That is where I put my mindfulness. Up on a shelf…out of reach.

I forced myself to get up…get dressed…pull the covers up on the bed. I made myself eat toast and tea. Gratefully, Mr. FixIt turned off the television so I didn’t have to see any more of the horrible news out of Florida. I took my tea to the sofa just as the sun peeked out of the clouds for the first time this week. I snuggled down into my “nest” and opened my iPad to check my email. And there was Uma’s newsletter. Her topic of the day? Mindfulness. I laughed. Sometimes God gently walks up beside me and says…really loud…LISTEN!

I did as Uma suggested…as I’ve done hundreds of times…as I’ve shared with you. I sat still. I closed my eyes. I stopped multitasking and just listened. I felt the sofa under me, cradling my body. I felt the lap desk on my thighs. I paid attention to my breath and my pain. I listened to my heart breaking again. It’s nothing like it was in the beginning. It has morphed and changed, waxed and waned. It’s just a current of energy that mixes with all the other currents in my world. Sometimes the rheostat gets cranked up a little higher, that’s all. Holidays. Birthdays. Angelversaries. Bluebirds. Cigars. I never know what will set it off or when. But I can become mindful…present…still. I can center myself and deal with the one thing and not the everything at once thing.

Thank you, Uma…for reminding us to stop and listen and center ourselves before we head down the rabbit hole. As the sun sent last night and I heard the spring peepers, I felt the axis shift and I’m much, much better. ❤

“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

umagirish.com/2018/02/1…

My Funny Valentine

Wed, 14 Feb 2018 02:30:46 -0600

“My Funny Valentine”

You know this day will come. Well…you certainly hope it does. Mr. Virgo didn’t get this far. He died at sixty-two. Mr. FixIt brought my mail home from town yesterday. I was browsing through it when I noticed an envelope from the Department of Health and Human Services. I thought it was just an advertisement but when I opened it…it was my Medicare Card.

Wow.

I had a rush of feelings. I felt…o-l-d. For about two minutes. What else? Sad…for a minute. I didn’t think sixty-five years would go by so fast. Humbled? Check. Grown up? Yeah, ok. Grateful? Definitely. Relieved? Oh, yes! My insurance costs will go down greatly. It took a few minutes till I worked my way through to the money, but once I got there, I was fine.

What a privilege it is to get to this point in my life. I’m alive and healthy. I know…Mr. Virgo is gone. And the wife of one of my dear classmates has been seriously ill and in the hospital for the last six weeks. Mr. FixIt’s cousin had a massive stroke on Sunday. I have every blessing I could ask for. I have no business feeling bummed because I’m going to be sixty-five this summer.

So, I’ve reached a major landmark in my life…a benchmark, as it were. I’m happy. I’m proud. I’m excited to see what comes next!

What an amazing Valentine, eh?!?! It can’t beat the pink roses, chocolates, and sweet card Mr. FixIt gave me…but it’s a close second! ❤

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭46:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Word Power

Mon, 12 Feb 2018 02:30:29 -0600

Word Power

When I was a teenager, my mother always told me my mouth would get me in trouble. I’ve spent a lifetime speaking when I should have remained silent. I say the wrong things at the wrong times. I let my anger lead my speech far, far too often. I am a work in progress. I know what I am supposed to do. We all do, right? But even God knew we could never tame our tongues…not completely.

Speech has such power. We can build up. We can tear down. Pastor Justin spoke of this power in church yesterday in a sermon entitled “Speech Therapy”. A clever use of the term. We need speech therapy. Not to pronounce the words, but to help us choose wisely. Our pastor had cutouts to demonstrate those we meet on a daily basis. The one who talks “crap” all the time. The one who whines and cries about everything. The vampire who sucks the life out of you. The angry yelper who shouts and charges about like a bull in a china shop. He also used some popular iconic figures like Dr. Phil, Joel Osteen, and Donald Trump to illustrate the power of words.

Dr. Phil is a good guy, offers sound advice, but not the one to look to for divine direction. Joel Osteen…the one who builds you up, always smiling, always positive. We can use more people in the world like Dr. Phil and Joel Osteen…they build up.

When he held up President Trump, I was a little worried where that might go. I’ve listened to politics being preached from the pulpit and I don’t like it. I loved the direction Pastor Justin took it, though. Love him. Hate him. There’s both of you out there. That’s not what this is about. What this is about is the power of the word. And using words to divide and cause conflict is counterproductive. We cannot control another person, but we can pray for them. I pray for our President to use discretion when he chooses words. I pray he decides to leave Twitter alone. I pray for his wisdom and discernment and good judgement. I have my opinions and beliefs about him but they are personal. I pray God blesses his tongue.

Praying for wisdom in our leaders and peace for our world is one thing I can do every day. Because my words have power. And if I speak with angry rhetoric, I am giving the enemy a foothold in my world. The enemy only has the power I give him. Using my words to express my desires to my legislators is another thing I can do. So, I keep trying my best. I try to watch my words and choose them carefully. I try not to cuss like a sailor but fail more than I like. Like I said, I’m a work in progress. I’m human. ❤️

“but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring?” ‭‭James‬ ‭3:8-11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Colorado Memories

Fri, 09 Feb 2018 02:30:55 -0600

“House in the Colorado Snow”

I lived in Colorado for two-thirds of my adult life. I have always considered West Virginia to be “home”, but this sweet little house was a pretty close second. I bought it when my second marriage ended in divorce. It was the first home I ever owned on my own.

Being a home owner is such a mixed bag. There’s the tax deduction for the mortgage interest. That’s a plus. There’s the mortgage itself… unless you are greatly blessed to not have one. That’s not so great if it strains your budget. There’s the comfort and security of a roof over your head. That’s a plus. There’s the maintenance and repairs that, in my case, were becoming quite costly. That’s difficult to plan for. There’s that wonderful covered front porch and meticulously manicured lawn, trees, shrubs, and flowers. That was truly my favorite part of living in this house. But the water bill alone could be $400 in the peak of summer irrigation, not to mention the high heating costs in the winter. Throw in mowing and shoveling snow all by my self along with memories of Mr. Virgo around every corner and I was done. Totally overwhelmed by the enormity of it all.

Looking back, I often wonder if I would have done anything differently if I were facing these decisions with today’s brain as opposed to grief brain. I came very close to backing out of the sales contract and renting the house out till I could be more certain this was what I really wanted to do. When I mentioned it to my real estate agent, she was horrified and exclaimed, “Oh no….you don’t want to do THAT!” In my confused state, I acquiesced and continued down the path of selling.

Sales on my side of the Rockies had gone soft, just as the prices in the Denver Metro area had skyrocketed…leaving me priced out of the real estate market entirely. I had to change course. At the same time, my aunt needed help on the farm in West Virginia, so my fate was sealed. I bought the bigger camper and move here.

Everything happened just as it was supposed to. If I would have stayed in my house, I would not have run into Mr. FixIt. And I wouldn’t trade him for anything. I know I did the right thing. I still look at this house with mixed feelings though. I suppose I always will. It was where I shared my life with Mr. Virgo. He is gone…and so is the house that held us.

New life, new love, new beginnings. This is a beautiful life I’ve built without all the encumbrances a house with a mortgage entails. And…there are two to carry the load now. Thank you, God! ❤

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭4:9-10‬ ‭NIV11‬‬

I Am Enough

Wed, 07 Feb 2018 02:30:52 -0600

“I Am Enough”

A friend of mine posts these really great inspirational messages on her Facebook page. She comes up with original questions, collections of photos surrounding a theme, and generally spreads love and light throughout the world…with an occasional “f-bomb” thrown in for emphasis. Her name is Barbara. I think she should write a book or have a syndicated newsletter or something because I never see her stuff without feeling uplifted and in awe. I love her.

Yesterday she posted the following question:

WHO ARE YOU? Answer without: Name, Job, Things you Did, Friends

As I always do with her thought provoking posts…I sat and thought. I made a cup of tea. I stared out the window. I listened to a recording of ocean waves. And…I sat and thought some more. I could answer many things. Christian. Gypsy. Dreamer. Giver. Lover. Friend. But those things only answer a part of the question with those parameters. I decided on this…

I Am Enough.

When this picture was taken, I was visiting my dear friend, Patti from Buffalo Baking Company in California. I had just completed a few of my big “firsts”. My first foray into the world of dating. HUGE mistake on the dating end. BIG help on the “having a shoulder to cry on” end. It didn’t turn out very well for either of us, unfortunately. Too much…WAY too soon. I had survived our anniversary, our birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas. And I headed to the west coast to stay with a woman I had never met in person…I only knew her through this blog. But I knew her heart and she is good and she loved on me for a week.

I had it in my head that once the clock struck midnight and 2013 turned into 2014, I could say…”He died LAST YEAR”. Somehow I thought that would sweep up the wreckage of my life from the floor where it fell eight months earlier. It would be the glue to piece my heart back together. On this day…New Year’s Day 2014…we drove to Half Moon Bay play tourist. We walked the beach, browsed the shops, ate fabulous seafood, and enjoyed each other’s company.

When we got to the beach, I asked if I could have a moment alone. I walked to the water’s edge and talked to Mr. Virgo. I told him how much I loved him. I let a little piece of him go free. I placed a few strands of his hair into the foam around my freezing bare feet. And I cried. As I was walking back to Patti and her husband, I saw she had her camera poised and I threw up my hands as if to say, “Ta Da!!! That’s done!!!”

Oh…I was SO naive.

I only THOUGHT I was done. I thought the New Year would bring a new me…sans tears, anxiety, sleepless nights throwing up, fits of rage and depression, and deep melancholia. It was far from it. It only opened my eyes to the stark reality that this really WAS real. He really WAS gone. And now, I got the opportunity to feel it all without that protective gauze of grief sheltering my weary heart and mind from the full blow. Now I was raw, open, searing with the painful presence of daily life…without him. Without my heart. Without my mind. At least as I had known it.

That second year was exactly like holding a sword into the white hot heat of a forge. It tempered me. It made me stronger so that when I was beaten, I held my edge. I became sharp and strong. I was honed into a new version of me.

When you look at the edge of a well-honed sword, you do not see a sharp, straight line. You see little bits and fragments and fingers of metal that have been forced to line up in the same direction. But there are chips and divots and feathers of steel lining up like soldiers marching in formation. Yet, zoom back out and you can cut a watermelon in midair with one easy stroke.

When you hone a sword, there is a stopping point. There is a place where you say…that is enough. If you keep going, the blade doesn’t get any sharper. It just wears away. This is where I am on this journey now. If I keep grinding away at this, I just get worn till I’m useless. There was that tipping point somewhere along the line where I said to myself…I Am Enough. This is good…this life I have built. I have surrounded myself with love and light. God, in his infinite Mercy, has given me more hearts to love and more time to love them. If my edge should dull…and it will…I will put my feet to the flame again and get strong and sharp. Over and over and over…ad infinitum. It is what we do. It is the best we can do. It is ALL we can do. Do the work. Walk through the flames. Become stronger. And proclaim to the world…

I. Am. Enough. And, my darling friend…you are, too!

❤️

“being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭1:6‬ ‭NIV11‬‬

The Eagles Have Landed!

Mon, 05 Feb 2018 02:30:14 -0600

Eagles win the Super Bowl!

Everyone loves an underdog. In a Google poll, only a handful of states hoped for a Patriots win, even though they were predicted to win by a substantial margin.

The game was tight. Philadelphia held the lead till they faltered in the third quarter when they seemed to run out of steam. Or, more accurately, Tom Brady got a fire lit under his team…finally. For a few brief moments, the Patriots led till a fumble picked up by the Eagles gave the birds some wings.

All through the game, I kept calling up to Mr. Virgo. “Are you watching this???” “OMGosh! Can you believe this???” Mr. FixIt laughed. I have no shame. I will call on the ghost of my late husband to go down on that field and trip the opponents’ quarterback if I have to.

It literally came down to the last few seconds of the game when an incomplete pass gave the Eagles their very first Super Bowl win. Mr. Virgo watched them religiously. He hoped. He dreamed. And they always failed him. They always broke his heart. I wish he could have seen that game last night! I have a feeling maybe he did. In the post game interviews and presentation of the Vince Lombardi Trophy, each player gave credit to God first. I was so proud. I cried. These are men of character. Gone are the shameful days of Michael Vick. These men worked hard and, even after losing their franchise quarterback to an injury earlier in the season, they managed to pull off an unimaginable feat and beat the famed New England Patriots. Within moments of the win, my brother called from Colorado to share the joy of the win with me.

We had family with us all afternoon. We had game day food. We had an incredible game with a glorious win. We had credit given where credit was due. sigh It was a really wonderful day. ❤️ ? ❤️

“But many who are first will be last, and the last first.” ‭‭Mark‬ ‭10:31‬ ‭NIV

Skeletons in the Closet

Sun, 04 Feb 2018 02:30:45 -0600

Exploring genealogy can lead to some real surprises. Family secrets like the baby “born” to the woman in her sixties with a 16 year old daughter. To save face, the grandparents registered the birth as their own instead of their unwed daughter, even though the daughter continued to raise that little girl plus two more. Or how about the man who stole a pig, was exonerated, then got in a fight with the sheriff over something completely different and killed him in a barroom brawl. There’s suicides, like my great great uncle who had horrible lifelong pain from arthritis or one of Mr. FixIt’s distant relatives who took arsenic. You never know what you might find when you delve into the past.

When I was a little girl, I had a special aunt. She lifted me up and made me feel good about myself. I remember her stooping down to tell me how beautiful I looked in periwinkle blue. It made my heart sing and I absolutely adored her. I grew up emulating her every move, style, thought. She was married to my dad’s brother and she did NOT like that side of the family. Unfortunately, she instilled that in me and I never really had much of a relationship with them. But I was one of her “special ones”. We talked for hours…HOURS. I basked in her attention.

Then, somewhere along the line…there was a rift. I wasn’t allowed to come see her anymore. I had done something my uncle didn’t approve of and that was that. It was easier to let me go than to deal with his anger. I didn’t talk with her for a long time. Then Mr. Virgo died. I just had to talk to her…just one more time. I called and left a message. And told her I would try her only once more the following afternoon. When I called back, she picked up on the first ring. It was like old times. I collapsed into my beloved aunt’s love and she comforted me in my loss. She listened to me cry. We talked for two hours and when it came time to ring off, I sensed this was the last time I would ever talk with her. I wanted to make it count.

I told her to listen to me. I told her I knew it wasn’t her turning me away because she didn’t love me. I knew the uncomfortable situation she was in. It was a different time. Women were more dependent…for a number of reasons. She couldn’t walk away. I understood that. I told her I loved her very much, I knew I was still one of her “special ones”, and I didn’t blame her. She cried. She thanked me for understanding. I told her goodbye. That was five years ago.

I’m telling you…I was a late bloomer. I didn’t learn the lessons of your 20’s till I was in my 60’s. When an impressionable young girl is under the spell of a powerful mother figure, real personal growth isn’t possible until that influence is removed. In rapid succession, I lost my grandma, I lost a marriage in which I had always deferred to my husband, one of my best friends moved away, I lost my mom, my aunt, and Mr. Virgo…all in a period of a few short years. I was set adrift. I didn’t know how to be…me. It was bad enough that I lost my sweet husband and was grieving and had to learn how to be without him. But those people who should have been there to help me learn how to be a widow…weren’t. As a late bloomer, I had a crash course in Adulting 101. It was incredibly rough.

Then something wonderful happened. OK, it was awful…I lost my dad. I was never close to him, but it was loss just the same. And right there in the basement of the church when we gathered to eat after the funeral, the miracle happened. Those family members on my dad’s side that I had shunned out of deference to my aunt, opened their arms and drew me in. They loved on me. They gave me their phone numbers. They planned a family picnic. I saw them…really SAW them as the beautiful people they are and I realized in that moment how much I had lost by being led astray. All those years, I thought I couldn’t love them both…my aunt AND my dad’s family. What a waste.

Last night, I was diving into an hour or so of genealogy research before I started writing. I don’t know if you are familiar with ancestry.com. When there are new hints for a family member in your tree, a little leaf grows out of the upper right corner of their picture. It has been five years since I’ve signed into Ancestry to do a little snooping around. OMGosh! It looked like a forest in there! Leaves everywhere. I started with my parents and their siblings. I opened my uncle’s hint. A picture of his gravestone. He had died in 2016! I called my cousins and they hadn’t heard a thing. I googled. Nothing. I searched the newspaper archive. No obituary. Nothing.

I sat back and let my mind wander and absorb the news. My thoughts swirled round till they started to settle into a reality. All this time, I had let myself believe that once this man was gone, my aunt could talk to me freely again. I could have that relationship back that I had cherished. But, it’s been two years. If she was going to call me…she would have by now. That’s too…half empty to me. Maybe she lost my contact information in the five years since we last talked. Maybe she has dementia and can’t call me. Or, maybe it was her. Maybe SHE was the one who didn’t like what I had done and cut me off.

I spent about 15 minutes feeling really sad that I would never have that special relationship again. Then I realized I have gained SO much since things changed. I learned how to think for myself. I gained a whole family of cousins whom I love very much. Life is all about change. It isn’t always easy to adapt to change. However…adapt or stay trapped. It always comes back to choices. I’m special now because GOD says I’m special…I say I’m special…Mr. FixIt and my family says I’m special. And I still look beautiful in periwinkle blue. ❤️

“But after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who calls you to share his eternal glory in union with Christ, will himself perfect you and give you firmness, strength, and a sure foundation. To him be the power for ever! Amen.” ‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭5:10-11‬ ‭GNBDC

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

Thu, 01 Feb 2018 02:30:00 -0600

“The Winter Tree”

I sat in the family room yesterday, working on my laptop. As I was installing my tax software, I looked over and caught the sun gleaming through the branches of the tree that still stands in front of the picture window. Do I still call it a Christmas tree now that it’s February? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll call it a Valentine tree.

I contemplated taking it down…for about two minutes. Then I said…”Nah, we love it!” So there it stands. It serves many purposes. It brings a lovely ambient light to the room in the evenings as we sit and enjoy this comfortable space we created. The blue-grey walls take on a deeper, muted tone in the pale white light. The mechanical angel on top continues her slow dance. I have the lights set on a timer to come on at 5:30. This is where I notice another benefit to leaving the tree up. When I first decorated it and set the timer, it had already been dark outside for quite some time when the lights came on. Now it’s still daylight, giving me a visual sign that the days are indeed getting longer and spring will be here before we know it.

I do whatever it takes to keep happy in the winter. Having gone through a clinical depression in the ‘90s, I am very careful about my mental hygiene when the days are so short. It is easy to become bored when you are stuck inside too much and it’s not a long walk from boredom to depression. They are one and the same…just different points on a continuum. I heard of a suicide yesterday. It made my heart hurt. With boredom, escape can come in sleep. With depression, escape can tragically become final.

Winters are long and dark enough. If leaving my tree up makes me happy, so be it. It very likely will become an Easter tree before I give in and take it down. At least the Christmas carols are gone! I am always glad to put those away. Six weeks of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” is enough to drive anyone batty! ❤️

“For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭36:9‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Go Away, Mr. Snarky!

Wed, 31 Jan 2018 02:30:11 -0600

Something is fundamentally wrong with this world today. Ok…there are so many things, it’s hard to land on one…but today, it’s all about this guy I went to high school with. I love how the Lord gives me SO many opportunities to practice keeping my mouth shut. And I’m doing a whole lot better at it. God knows it isn’t easy for me sometimes.

So, back to this guy. We’ll call him Joe. Ok, that’s his name…Joe. It doesn’t matter if I identify him here…he’ll NEVER see this post. Because Joe is FAR too busy making snarky political comments on other people’s Facebook pages.

I became friends with Joe on Facebook in 2009. We were classmates all through school. He was one of the “cool kids”. He was a real cutie back in the day. I hate to admit that even in 2009, I kinda dug it if the “popular” people became my friends on Facebook. That’s sad, isn’t it? There was still some personal growth I obviously needed to work on…and Joe was my opportunity.

In nearly every case, those classmates that I really didn’t know in school have turned out to be sheer delights as friends at this stage of the game. Not Joe. Joe is opinionated, snarky, and oh so bold in his political opinions now that his candidate is in the White House. I usually don’t care. I don’t discuss politics online. I can scroll by annoying posts…I’m an adult. But when I expressed concern at the $23M price tag on the refrigeration’s units for Air Force One, I wasn’t inviting a political discourse. I was questioning how a refrigerator could cost that much. I wanted to learn.

Several people wrote genuinely kind responses, referring me to websites that explained the intricacies of such a piece of machinery. The two planes that are interchangeable to carry the President (whichever one has POTUS onboard at the time is called Air Force One) were first flown in 1987. Parts must be custom made because they are no longer being manufactured. Plans for new planes began under GW Bush but were postponed. The new planes will not be ready for service until 2023. The new planes will have more modern defenses against missiles and electromagnetic pulse attacks. And, apparently…cold snacks. (Thank you, Gina!) This was the kind of helpful, respectful answer I was looking for. Then, along came Joe.

I’ve noticed over the last couple of years, Joe is really opinionated. REALLY. As in, “I have no respect for your opinion if it doesn’t agree with mine.” He dive bombs every conversation with politically charged nastiness. He doesn’t call you names or anything. He just jumps in and stirs the pot. I know. I could have cut him off at the knees a hundred times. But, I’ve been interested in seeing just how far he would take this. The thing is, it’s never quite enough to make me pull the plug. He’s just like an annoying fly at a picnic. I figured I’d just ignore him.

The comment he made wasn’t necessarily offensive, or ugly. However…it just didn’t feel good. It wasn’t nice. It wasn’t supportive, or helpful, or kind, or even polite. I never strike back like with like. I was polite. I asked him not to come to my page and be snarky. I promised I wouldn’t go to his and do the same. It wasn’t enough for Joe. He had to swoop back in with the last word. I can tolerate political differences. I don’t have to suffer a fool.

My dad was well into his eighties when the internet gained traction. He and I never saw eye to eye about much. But I’ll never forget him saying the internet was going to be the downfall of society. We’re watching it happen. People are losing their ability to be kind to one another. They are emboldened behind screens to say things they might not say to your face. And after some time, they lose even that reservation and the ugly comes out everywhere.

I’m tired. I want nice again. I saw Tom Hanks is going to play Mr. Rogers in a movie about his life. Maybe that’s what we need…more Mr. Rogers. I miss manners. I miss kindness. I miss my country. I can work with anybody…just, for heaven’s sake, be nice. ❤️

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” ‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭4:31-32‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The McKinney Grief Scale

Tue, 30 Jan 2018 02:30:44 -0600

“Elk in Colorado” by Ginny McKinney

It’s that time of year again where Facebook is kindly sharing the memories of things that occurred in the weeks leading up to Mr. Virgo’s death. This is a wonderful feature, really. It reminds us of things that happened in the past. Birthday parties, the birth of new family members, that dinner party you had to celebrate something special. Those memories come in and give us warm fuzzies. But what about the memories leading up to a tragic loss? They can be so painful…especially early in the grief process. Even now…leading up to the fifth angelversary of my late husband’s death, these memories take me back to that innocent time before I knew what death REALLY was.

It’s not like I would change this. I wouldn’t want these memories to go away. I’d just like to have them come in a little gift box that I could open should I choose to see the contents. I remember the week of his first angelversary. Ironically, it was right around the time they started this memory thing. It took my breath away and knocked me to my knees. For the most part, five years and a new relationship have eased that. It’ll never take it away completely, though. Grief doesn’t work that way. Grief is sneaky. There comes a time when it seems to leave you alone for a bit. It walks around disguised…camouflaged. Then something like a Facebook memory, or a familiar aroma, or the way the sun slants through the window, or the smell of coffee brewing…grief walks up to you, stares you in the face, pokes you in the chest like a schoolyard bully and yells, “Hey!!! Remember me???”

Now, it seems, there is a two-toned scale of grief-tinged memories…0-10 on the dark scale (D), 0-10 on the light scale (L). I have dubbed it the “McKinney Grief Scale”. Early memories were high on the dark scale and low on the light. Particularly poignant memories may still lean towards an elevated dark scale with a modicum of light poured in. With the distance of five years, almost all memories are high on the light scale with occasional spikes in the dark.

This particular memory is a D3L8. We were in the early stages of a heavy snowstorm and Mr. Virgo was home for the day. We had no place to go. We spent the day watching TV, talking, cooking, maybe we snuggled on the couch and watched a movie or napped in each other’s arms. I remember going to the kitchen for something and looking out the sliding glass doors. Here were these beautiful elk in our backyard. I grabbed my phone and snapped this picture. I loved the elk in our area. Our subdivision had been a ranch for a hundred years before it was subdivided and houses were built. We encroached on the elk habitat and eventually drove them out. Still, once in a while some would wander through and you’d get a glimpse.

Yes, a solid D3L8. A little dark, a good amount of light. That’s where I sit a lot these days leading up to Number 5. ❤️

“Surely the righteous will never be shaken; they will be remembered forever.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭112:6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Is The Day The Lord Hath Made

Sun, 28 Jan 2018 02:30:20 -0600

Praise

Let us celebrate and be GLAD in it! It is so easy to celebrate and be glad in the day when all is right in your world, isn’t it? I mean, we want God’s blessings, right? We are happy in our blessings and we (hopefully) thank God for providing for us. It’s a different story when things aren’t going well. It is SO hard to celebrate and be glad when your world is falling apart. I don’t think God is asking you to go out in the streets and celebrate with singing and dancing if you are sincerely in the throes of pain. We can still celebrate the fact we have a loving Father who is going to use our pain for good in some way. He is working in the background, far beyond our understanding, twisting and turning events to bring you favor. We can still be glad in the day he has made, even if we can’t drag ourselves out of bed to enjoy it. I’ve been there. I know what mattress surfing is like. And I still rejoiced that I had someone who loved me more than I could ever imagine.

Bringing joy into the world isn’t always easy, but the more you try, the more you succeed, and the more you succeed, the more joy you have to give. It is truly the gift that keeps on giving. When I see joy in someone, I stop them and recognize it in them. We are here to love and encourage one another. When you let someone know that you SEE their efforts, your encouragement causes them to grow and expand. It’s an amazing gift you give them…and give yourself.

I ran across this video last night and I just had to share with you. Here’s a little girl with more joy than she can possibly contain. Here’s a future worship leader! A future teacher! A future politician! A future doctor! She has the whole world ahead of her and plenty of joy to share. This is the day the Lord hath made…let us rejoice and be glad in it! Go out there and make it a great day today!!! ❤️

youtu.be/3QivliBtp…

“This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭118:24‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Playing with Art

Sat, 27 Jan 2018 02:30:23 -0600

I have loved art since I could hold those fat crayons in my chubby toddler fingers. I loved school because, not only did I learn the secret to time travel was reading, I also learned the secret to inner peace was making art.

I was fortunate to have wonderful art teachers in school though I can’t name one. I loved working in pastels. I struggled the most with watercolor. My favorite thing is drawing. Pencils, pen and ink, charcoal, pastels, colored pencils. I love the feel of the paper and how the medium lays in the fibers.

My dad was a talented artist. He gave it up when he had to raise a family. After he died, I found several of his drawings. I wish I knew then what I know now. My conversations with my dad would have ultimately been much deeper. And now he’s gone. It’s too late to ask him what art meant to him.

I remember my mom sent me to a local artist for lessons. Again…if I’d have been more mature and responsible, I might have learned more. I think most of what I’ve done has been self taught…a sort of chemistry lesson on paper.

I have a friend from high school that has the same iPad, Pencil and app as me. We are meeting today for coffee. I’ve been studying the Procreate guide and we hope to help walk each other through the learning curve. She is a beautiful artist and I am looking forward to learning more from her. This picture shows my progress on this particular drawing over the last four weeks. I’m looking forward to seeing what happens with practice. Grandma Moses was a lot older than me when she started! ❤️

“He has filled them with skill to do all kinds of work as engravers, designers, embroiderers in blue, purple and scarlet yarn and fine linen, and weavers—all of them skilled workers and designers.” ‭‭Exodus‬ ‭35:35‬ ‭NIV‬‬

It Seems Like Forever

Wed, 24 Jan 2018 02:30:58 -0600

“Three Apples”

Yesterday was International Pie Day. Ooooooh…that one blew right by me till we were watching the news last night (yes, I actually watched the news but just this once. I was updating my computer and got caught by surprise. sigh) There was one of those inevitable human interest stories that told us about the annual celebration of my all time favorite dessert…PIE! I used to bake competitively and was known as The Pie Queen in my little valley in Colorado. Those were the halcyon days of my youth, teaching people the intricacies of a proper pie crust. These days, Mr. Pillsbury and I make our pies with that fabulous ready made crust that you unroll, fill and bake. Voila! Instant dessert!

“All the Fixins”

Mr. FixIt and I looked at each other. It was 6:00. Still time for pie! I rummaged around in the fridge and found three apples. I still had two rolls of crust left over from the last dinner party we had. Cored, peeled, sliced, with half a lemon squeezed over it…added a couple tablespoons of that wonderful Splenda Brown Sugar blend, three tablespoons of flour, a few good shakes of apple pie spice and a tiny splash of vanilla…and mixed it well. I poured that in the bottom crust, dotted it with a couple teaspoons of butter, topped it with the second crust, slit the top and crimped the edges together. Baked at 375 for about 50 minutes and yummmmmmm…I love apple pie!

“In the Oven”

As we were enjoying dessert, my plan was to head to the back of the house to write my post as I usually do. But Mr. FixIt was scanning through the shows he had recorded on the DVR. “The Story of God by Morgan Freeman?” he asked. Oh…yes please. How can you go wrong with God AND Morgan Freeman, right? I have always been fascinated with religions and the faith of all people. There were some things in the show that didn’t mesh with my interpretation of my faith, but it’s a very personal thing to each individual. I really enjoyed his interviews. We watched three episodes and saved the other two for tonight. I don’t mind watching TV as much if it’s something educational, or a singing competition, or has Morgan Freeman in it!

“Apple Pie”

In the first episode, the subject of life after death was discussed and what different faiths believe happens to us when we die. Christians live with the belief we will see our loved ones again in Heaven. I don’t know that it lessens the sting of loss, but eventually it was something that offered me some comfort. I think the idea that my loved ones got to see Jesus already is what gives me the most comfort. And…that brings me to the significance of today.

“Wanda Belle”

Today is my mom’s angelversary. She has been gone fourteen years. I miss her as much now as I did the day she left us so unexpectedly. I was frustrated with her that week. She wasn’t well. Her breathing was rapid. I did not know that she hadn’t eaten or drank anything for five days. I have kicked myself a million times for not calling an ambulance myself to take her to the hospital but she refused to go. I was living in Colorado. She was here in West Virginia. I can hide behind the excuse “there was nothing I could do”, but I should have. I should have just called and dealt with her being upset with me. I was mad at her because she refused to come to Colorado where there was excellent health care. I vented my frustration in the very last phone call I had with her. In the middle of the conversation, as I felt my temper start to rise, the Holy Spirit took hold of me and literally shook me. “Wake up! Wake up! This could be your last conversation!” And, it was. I am SO grateful for that I controlled my tongue for once. I told her I understood why she couldn’t come to Colorado. I understood why she didn’t want to leave her home. I mean…I didn’t at the time. But I told her that. And I told her how much I dearly loved her. I told her to just focus on getting well, that I would take care of everything. I told her I would be on a plane the next day and would be there by nightfall. She told me I couldn’t imagine what that meant to her…telling her I understood. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with me or that she didn’t think I knew what I was talking about. She was just tired. Sick and tired. More sick and tired than she admitted to me, or I might have been more forceful. As it was, she was gone by 4:00 the next morning.

I’ve forgiven myself for failing to make the call. I’ve forgiven myself for speaking to her in harsh tones. It’s been a long time since I shed tears for my mom, but I did as I wrote this post. My only consolation is she knew I loved her…and we will meet again someday. Until then…oh, I miss my mom. ❤️

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭1:3-4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

January Walkabout

Tue, 23 Jan 2018 02:30:47 -0600

Although I am at the farm quite often, I only do a real walkabout once every month or two. I check the outbuildings for damage, do a quick inventory of the chores that need doing, watch for trees than need felled before they come down where I don’t want them, and get a feel for the land in every season. That way I am more aware when things look out of the ordinary and I can fix them right away. I’ve noticed the old tool shed has tipped more toward the barn so this summer I’m going to have to get down under the back corner with a hydraulic jack to even it up. The yard is yet again full of mole hills. I need to spread something to kill the cutworms they feed on and that will send them on to greener pastures. I need to get ahead of the poison ivy in the spring. It’s easy to spot the vines when the leaves are off. The vines are “hairy” and often grow up the sides of buildings and other trees.

Yesterday, Boy Cat accompanied me as I meandered about the lower land around the farmhouse. His soft mewing and purring let me know he was glad to see me, even though he rarely comes close to me. I am nothing more than his Food God…”The One Who Opens the Can”. He is very sweet and I’m always grateful nothing has gotten him in the surrounding woods where he hunts. I still mourn for Old Mama Kitty. The sad thing about losing farm cats…there is seldom “closure”. Kitty Boy, the youngster, has grown into a sturdy, sleek, shorthaired version of Boy Cat. He is as aloof as ever and will not be on the porch at the same time as me. He will sit still and look at me if I stand in the kitchen and look out the back door. Nothing I have ever done has won him over…he is truly a wild boy.

The hydrangea is heavy with dried flower clusters…some as big as luncheon plates. The tubs that caught rain at the corners of the house got caught in the freeze and unfortunately have burst their seams. I want to get a couple plastic fifty-five gallon drums to catch the rainwater. Here in West Virginia, you can have cisterns to filter and store rainwater for washing, cooking, and drinking if you boil it. In Colorado, it is against the law to catch rain because we do not own that water. It has been sold to drier climates downstream. They are dead serious about it, too. I noticed several honeybees in my bird feeder yesterday. The weather is warming up and they are browsing for something to eat. I’ll look up what to put out for them and do that the next time I’m at the farm.

Hopefully the weather will cooperate and we can spend the weekend out there. Mr. Fixit built a dam in the stairwell going to the basement to keep the water from flooding in like it did week before last. We are due for some heavy rains in the next few days and we need to make sure that protects the basement before we leave for any length of time. Ahhh, the downside of country living…there is always something needing built, rebuilt, repaired or torn down.

Oh….and an update on the snowy owl. The rescue folks got his weight up and his wing healed nicely. They took him north to the south shore of Lake Erie over the weekend and released him back into the wild. They posted a slow motion video of him taking flight and heading off into the distance. It was a beautiful thing. He was a magnificent creature and there is every hope he will thrive as they released him in the southernmost region of his winter territory. Several other snowy owls were reported in the region so he should do well.

That’s all from West Virginia today. I hope you all are well and maybe enjoying a little “spring-like weather” before the next cold snap. It was in the mid-60’s yesterday. I’ll take that any day of the week over the frigid temps we faced at the first of the year. ❤️

“Go, walk through the length and breadth of the land, for I am giving it to you.”” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭13:17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

In the Beginning

Mon, 22 Jan 2018 02:30:44 -0600

Marshmallow Ranch actually started in 2001. I was separated from Hubby #2 the year before. I had worked in medicine before becoming a stay-at-home mom in 1986. Unfortunately, since my soon-to-be ex was a doctor in the community, it was a decidedly uncomfortable environment in which to seek employment. I found myself struggling to find a new career in our small, mountain community. I worked for about a year filling in at the local downtown shops…working one day a week at each of five stores, giving the shop owners a welcome day off. I found I enjoyed the interaction with the customers and I was very good at merchandising. My ex noticed this and proposed I open a shop of my own and he would help me get started.

One of my favorite pastimes in those days was needlework. I belonged to the Embroiderer’s Guild that met once a month. I also belonged to a quilting guild. But my favorite was our weekly “Stitch and B****” held at my friend Judy’s house. We brought whatever project we were working on and sat around with coffee and pastries and got all the support we needed for whatever issue we were facing as young mothers. When I started thinking about what kind of shop I wanted to open, I asked the girls and they unanimously chimed in. “A needlework supply shop!”

I really wanted my store on the main street through town for the foot traffic. Unfortunately, the rents there were out of my budget so I went two streets east. I was across the street from the Hotel Denver and catty corner from the Amtrak Station. The building was one of the oldest in town. It had been the St. James Inn at one time with a shady history of being one of the brothels in the early days when most of downtown consisted of tents and mud. When coming up with a name, I thought of Cat House Cross Stitch, but thought better of it. I finally settled on Needles & Pins. The owners of the building did a major remodel with my shop in mind. When it was complete, it was lovely. Old hardwood floors were brought back to life. Salvaged brick lined one wall. A large table was in the back room. Every Wednesday, women gathered at my shop for our own version of “Stitch and B****”. From the moment I opened the doors to closing time, the shop rang with the laughter of women sharing stories and solving the problems of the world. I lost my shirt…twice…but it was wonderful therapy for a lot of women, including myself. It’s when I first found my footing on my own again.

If you are a cross-stitcher, you are familiar with cute publishing houses like “Birds of a Feather”, “Mosey & Me”, “Blackbird Designs” and “The Prairie Schooler”. Being an artist, I thought I would try my hand at designing some cross-stitch patterns. I wanted to come up with a cute name for the division of my business. As I was going through a box of things in my art studio one day, I came across the picture of a field in West Virginia with large, round bales of hay wrapped in white plastic. They looked all the world like huge marshmallows. I had taken the photo on a trip a few years earlier. My youngest had asked what those things were and her big sister teased her telling her this was a marshmallow ranch. This was where they grew big marshmallows then cut them up in little pieces, put them in bags and sent them to the stores. Marshmallow Ranch! The perfect name for my tiny little art division of Needles & Pins.

Unfortunately, the shop wasn’t open long enough for my ideas to come to fruition. I did design three or four patterns and had samples stitched, but never got them published. This is the most detailed of my designs. I called it “Three Sheep”. Maybe someday I’ll get around to developing that idea again. Designing cross-stitch patterns isn’t as easy as it looks. Even with my interest in art, I’m not a very good judge of color. I found this picture on my new computer when the photos were delivered from the cloud and thought I’d share it with you. It’s been thirteen years since I closed the second incarnation of my little needlework shop. It was a difficult time in my life, but one that shaped the path of who I have become. It’s something I am proud of in retrospect. ❤️

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” ‭‭James‬ ‭1:17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When Your Body Speaks...Listen

Sun, 21 Jan 2018 02:30:15 -0600

I had a huge day planned yesterday. I was really looking forward to gathering with two different groups of friends. I awoke sometime before dawn and my body just said, “Nope. Not today. Go back to sleep.” In the past, I might have forced myself up and made myself go. Since losing Mr. Virgo, I’ve learned to listen more to my body when it speaks to me.

Grief not only causes things like “grief brain” which was illustrated in the article I shared with you the other night. Several health ailments can be attributed to grief and the resultant stress it causes. High levels of cortisol…the “fight or flight” hormone…can cause everything from high blood pressure to heart disease to depression to substance abuse. It also affects your immune system and you tend to get sick easier and things last longer. There isn’t an expiration date on grief either. You may not be actively grieving, but you can still suffer from the repercussions.

Yesterday it was tummy trouble. Easy enough to fix with rest, fluids and over the counter medications. I have to be extra careful with things like gluten and fats now. I didn’t have to do that before Mr. Virgo died. Another thing that came my way was an autoimmune response to grief and I developed plantar-palmar psoriasis. I doctored that with steroids and every psoriasis cream known to man. I tried folk remedies and old wive’s tales. Nothing touched it till last year when I started using doTerra’s LifePak vitamins and CBD (canabidiol) ointment. It’s pretty well controlled now with occasional applications and I take a small dose of the vitamins every other day or so.

Nothing is the same after a profound loss. For a long time, I grieved not only for Mr. Virgo…but also for the ME that I lost in the process of grieving. When I finally let go of trying to recreate my life the way it was before, I began to embrace the life I was building. It’s much, much better but the physical things still creep up on me from time to time. I still find them frustrating, even though I am much better at listening to my body now. When it says, “Go back to sleep”…unless I have something that I absolutely HAVE to do…I listen. I texted my friends and told them I was going to have to bow out because I didn’t feel well. They totally understood. There will be other opportunities to get together. And I spent the day reading. I haven’t spent the day reading in ages because for the longest time, my grief brain wouldn’t allow me to concentrate long enough to get through a book. It was lovely to be able to read…and comprehend what I was reading. Mr. Fixit watched college basketball and a couple of movies while I cuddled up on the couch and listened to recordings of campfires and thunderstorms.

Remember…self care is not selfish. It is necessary. If you are alone, you may have the freedom to practice self care any time, but not always. I am fortunate to have this wonderful man who understands and supports my need for self care on a regular basis. What a gift he is to me. ❤️

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings. And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.” ‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭5:7-11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Savor the Sweet

Sat, 20 Jan 2018 02:30:14 -0600

The first time I set foot in a trout stream, I was six years old. It was the summer before my life would be forever changed by the illicit touch of a stranger. The summer of 1960 found my family on its very first vacation. We traveled to the mountains of West Virginia and rented a small cabin for a week. I remember mom frying trout in an iron skillet. I remember my brother and I playing quietly in the shade of the many trees surrounding our camp. I remember my dad standing in the shallow middle, up to his knees, casting over and over with the flies he had meticulously tied at his workbench in the basement. And I remember the river. The North Fork of the South Branch of the Potomac River, to be exact.

I didn’t have much experience with open bodies of water. Mom had instilled an unhealthy fear of water in me with stories of the time she saved her baby sister from drowning. She had no intention of ever having to save me, so I was banished from any water sports. And, it turns out…I’m a bit of a water baby. I remember one day in particular. Dad was out in his favorite fishing hole, patiently casting, and I stood at the river’s edge. I contemplated the ripples as they passed over the smooth river rocks. I gazed at the deep pools that changed to the color of emeralds where the sandy bottom lay two or three feet below. I delighted at the light dancing on the surface like a thousand diamonds and the trout flashing as they breached the surface to catch their next meal.

That was a simple and peaceful summer…the last I would know before my innocence was taken from me. But, that is not to say, I have never found moments that have recaptured that sense of awe and wonder. I have…many times. Yesterday was one of those days that delivered sweet things…one after another…till I was overflowing with the beauty and simplicity of it all.

I made my routine trip to the farm to see how the kitties are fairing. I checked the stove and the basement. I sat, as I always do, in the chair in “Grandma’s Window” and watched the birds at the feeder. I listened to the sounds of an old house…living and breathing…its bones creaking like the old woman that she is. I watched the pendulum in Mr. Virgo’s clock swing back and forth, reminding me I couldn’t stay too long. We had company coming.

I stopped at the neighbor’s for a bit and delivered a small gift of French Truffles. We passed the time, catching up on the news of the neighbors and I left with promises it wouldn’t be so long till my next visit. I turned the truck toward home. I checked the mail and found a pink slip…a package had come and would be waiting for me at the post office. Mr. FixIt offered to go pick it up as I put the groceries away. I no sooner sat down till our company arrived.

Mr. FixIt’s granddaughter and her family brought their baby to see Papaw and GG! I have inherited a whole passel of people in this relationship, including a son and his wife, a daughter and her man, three granddaughters (two of whom have significant others), a grandson and his girlfriend, and a great granddaughter. You know what that means, don’t you? I am a great grandmother! And…considering I am WAY too young to be one (smile)…I am GG. Great Grandma. Grandma Ginny. GG. It suits me. The baby is four months old and the most precious little thing. What a treat to hold and rock a little one again!

Before long, Mr. FixIt came back with my box. I couldn’t wait to open it. It was a special introductory gift box from my dear friend, and fellow Sister on the Fly, Michelle McMullen Cummings with her newly published book, The Reel Sisters! https://www.thereelsisters.com/product/the-reel-sisters-gift-box/ Now I have two books to read, one published and one unpublished with an invitation to write early praise for its release. Both written by strong women I admire and I can’t wait to get into them! The reminder of these sister friendships warmed my heart as rocked and sang a lullaby to the newest member of our immediate family. I thought…”I will teach you to fly, little sister” as I sniffed the top of her sweet, soft head.

I am enjoying getting to know and bond with Mr. FixIt’s family. As his granddaughter bundled up the baby and prepared to leave yesterday, she turned to me and said, “I like you. You make my grandpa very happy.” I like her, too. She reminds me a little of myself when I was her age. A young mother, in love with her baby, her life stretching before her like an endless summer. It filled me with a soft warmth. As I sat propped in our bed last night, typing away at the keyboard writing this post, that very happy Papaw came in with a small bowl of ice cream and a kiss on the top of my head. And I swear…my heart exploded with joy.

The sweet simplicity of a life lived with boundless joy. My God has delivered me far, far from the pain life can bring. For now. There will be pain again. There always is. This is life, after all. The difference is, I have this now. I am building my insurance policy. These stories are money in my emotional bank…stories to look back upon one day and remember the joy I felt on a cold January day in the sun. ❤️

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” ‭‭James‬ ‭1:17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Catching Up

Fri, 19 Jan 2018 02:30:51 -0600

One of the best ways to catch up with paperwork is to have peaceful surroundings. Mr. FixIt had a day of errands to do. I think he kinda wanted me to tag along with him yesterday, but I know us well…I would have ended up coming in at 9:30 last night and none of this work would have gotten done.

As soon as he left (with a big hug and kiss) I turned on praise music and cranked it up. I always need a little extra dose of Jesus when I am heading into a formidable task. Wading through many bags and boxes of papers and sorting them into some sort of organization that allows me to actually put my finger on things was the order of the day. With praise, and good coffee and French Truffles…I waded in with both feet and started making the first cuts. What was trash. What needed to be kept in which pile. I really, really hate paperwork! “Jesus is calling…” I can do this. “Do you thirst for a drink from the well…” I can do this. “The Father’s arms are open wide…” Oh, yes…I can definitely do this! “Bring your sorrows and trade them for joy…” YES…let’s DO this!!!

As I often do, I talk out loud to Jesus when I’m working. The conversation is never one-sided. He always speaks to me through the Holy Spirit and tells me everything I need to hear. First, he smacks my hand a little…”Keep up with this stuff better.” He chides gently. “You know what an ordeal it is when you put it off till the end of the year. It seems overwhelming. If it’s difficult to slog through…remember to talk with me while you’re working. It makes the time pass faster. And, I can help. I can help you put things into perspective. I can help you find lost papers. I can help you remember who you need to talk to about this and that. I can help you make important decisions. Just remember to include me…even in the most mundane of your daily activities.”

Then He goes on with his daily teaching. “Thank your Father for the gifts you receive. See all these papers? They are all articles of provision. That bank account? I gave you that gift to provide for your every need. Respect that. Balance every month…not because it’s a drudge, but because it’s an honor to see the abundance you have been provided with. The same goes for that insurance policy you have been complaining about because the price went up. Be grateful you HAVE insurance…and so far, you haven’t run out of money to pay for it. What about that accident last February? I know you have been dreading searching for all the papers you need to have in order to finish out that claim. Yes, that’s a pain…but, I made sure you weren’t terribly injured. And you received a much newer truck when yours was totaled. It was “a miracle” when you got that check that just almost covered the new truck, wasn’t it? It was Me…I made sure you have a safe, affordable vehicle. A little gratitude goes a long way, dear one.”

What blessings I have. I have a Father that provides for me. I have a loving family that supports and loves me. I have this tremendous man in my life who loves me and shares his home with me as if it has always been mine…he’s just been waiting for me to come along. I have my health. I have the farm. I have TOW-Wanda. I have a retirement. I have Social Security and health insurance and soon, I’ll have Medicare…that carrot at the end of the race that will help provide for me in my golden years. I have a house…TWO houses…THREE if you count TOW-Wanda…to shelter me from the storms of life. I have food and clean water and clothes. I am wealthy….beyond my wildest dreams. I am LOVED. What a lovely way to look at the mundane, dreary chore of sorting through paperwork. What a lovely way to look at the world. Thank you, God! “You’re a good, good Father…it’s who you are, it’s who you are…” ❤️

“And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:19‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Tucking in with Tea

Thu, 18 Jan 2018 02:30:19 -0600

I love a hot cup of tea on a cold winter day. And, baby…it is c-o-l-d! It is nice to just stay in and get stuff done around the house. Catching up on correspondence. Going through stacks of paperwork and organizing. Tossing old magazines. All things that need to be done and can be accomplished when you’re stuck inside.

I’m reading my friend’s final draft of her book so I can write advanced praise. You’re going to love it…I’ve cried ten times! I can’t wait to share it with you.

In the meantime, I was doing a little research yesterday after reading some of your comments on my post. I do that often. I came across an article in Psychology Today that I loved. As I read it, tears stung my eyes and I thought…whoever wrote this really gets it! When I got to the bottom, I saw that it was written by someone I know! Susan Heitler, PhD…a Clinical Psychologist in Denver. Susan had a little office located by the back door to the suite I worked in when Hubby #2 was in medical school. She often ate her lunch at the front desk in her office…the door flung open wide as if to beckon passers by to come in for a visit. I often stopped on my way to and from the cafeteria. Sitting for a few moments with Susan was like breathing in sunshine. I always left feeling really good about myself. I would have loved to bottle some of that up and take it with me where ever I went in the years since I last saw her. Here’s the article I read: https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/resolution-not-conflict/201202/psychological-diagnosis-dangerous-desirable-or-both

The last several days’ posts have been really heavy so I’m keeping today light on purpose. There is so much darkness in the world…we need a day of light once in a while. As I’m writing this, I’m listening to sounds of the woods. Water in a creek. Crickets. Tree frogs. Night birds. I miss those sounds. The woods are so quiet in the winter. The air seems dead as it is muted by the snow on the ground. It’s so cold my nose hairs freeze when I breathe in! Yet, I still have to sleep with the window cracked a bit. I have to have air. Mr. FixIt doesn’t like heavy blankets so I bought an electric blanket. It is the warmest thing I’ve ever had and not at all heavy. A good compromise.

I made Banana Nut muffins yesterday with blueberries in them. We went shopping at the department store that is closing and bought about $460 worth of clothes for $22…mostly for the great grandbaby! I’m researching how to make jewelry from broken china. I scheduled a camping trip for May. I caught a mouse in the attic. We watched a Reese Witherspoon movie. And I’m gathering the data I need to close out the paperwork from the car accident I was in last February. So far, it’s been a really good week! How about you? What are you doing to pass the time till spring? ❤️

“Fruit trees of all kinds will grow on both banks of the river. Their leaves will not wither, nor will their fruit fail. Every month they will bear fruit, because the water from the sanctuary flows to them. Their fruit will serve for food and their leaves for healing.”” ‭‭Ezekiel‬ ‭47:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Time’s Up

Wed, 17 Jan 2018 02:30:46 -0600

I was a doctor’s wife. I had a beautiful life, for all intents and purposes. While he wasn’t a demonstrative man, I felt I was coping as best I could with his inability to meet my emotional needs. He was a good provider and a good dad. I could overlook the rest. There came a point when I started unraveling a bit. The clouds of depression circled around but never lit very long in those days. That is, until I went in for a physical. My doctor asked how I was doing and I told him I was a bit blue of late. I would often walk into the baby’s room, pick her up and rock her…and cry. “Hmmmmm… Inappropriate crying.” he wrote in my chart. He gave me a prescription for Zoloft and the race to self destruction began. How could I tell him why I was crying? How could I do that in the short time he had allotted for this visit? It was so much deeper than any pill could ever reach.

As I write this, I’m watching the gymnasts facing their abusive doctor in court. What a different world it is for sexual abuse victims now. My first abuser was a senior in high school. I was eight or nine. I was playing with a friend when the big boy lured us into a garage to “look at toys”. When he had his hand in my pants, he was whispering things in my ear I didn’t understand. Mom said don’t talk to strangers. But “Butterball” lived in the neighborhood. We knew him. I stood stock still in the belief he would leave. When he was done with me, he went for my friend. In that moment, my maternal instincts kicked in and I grabbed her hand and ran down the hill to her house. I pounded on the door and her mother came to answer. I was frantic and told her what had happened. She opened the screen door and I thought…”Oh, thank God! She’s going to save us!” Mrs. G grabbed her daughter and drew her in the house. As I started to go in, she placed her hand on my chest, pushed me out the door, and said, “Don’t you EVER say anything like that EVER again to ANYBODY!” Then she slammed the door in my face.

I went to my house and sat on the lawn trying to figure out what had happened. When I was really little, my babysitter’s teenage daughter had sex with her boyfriend in her room all the time. She caught me watching once and beat the tar out of me and told me I was bad. And here, a mother I knew and trusted told me I was bad and I had a pretty good idea it had something to do with that physical act I had no name for. I made a concrete decision right there. I would take Mrs. G’s advice. I would not tell my mom. I mean, what if I told her and SHE put me out on the street like my friend’s mom??? I would die!

I never told, nor did I tell about the time it happened with my best friend’s dad when I was twelve or thirteen. You know…when you are convinced you are bad from your earliest memories, that kind of damage runs deeply and permanently in your DNA.

I didn’t tell until I was watching my girls on the living room floor, playing. Daughter #1 was sixteen. Daughter #2 was one. I don’t know if it was the way the sun came in through the window or the way my daughter tucked her hair behind her ear or maybe it was the sound of their sweet innocent voices but suddenly those memories came rushing back with such force it nearly knocked me to my knees. The shadow of depression that was floating just out of my reach crashed on me with the force of a tsunami. That is when I started rocking my baby in the night…weeping. “Inappropriate crying”? I think not. I was trying to figure out how I was going to protect this precious child from the horrors that await little girls in the great big world. I was weeping for that little girl in me who was abused then turned away by someone who could have helped her..SHOULD have helped her. I was trying to figure out just one thing in my 38-year-old mind…”Who can I tell? And, what the hell does it matter now?” Just, please God…keep them safe.

The fact that I’m sitting here alive and well, and that my children are beautiful and safely grown is testimony to a mother’s strength and courage. The road was long and filled with unexploded ordinance, but we made it through. I told my mom everything when I was about forty. I was hyper vigilant with my girls but they were never abused under my watch. Now, I tell and tell and tell in an effort to teach prevention and give permission to tell your own stories. Because, #timesup. No more secrets. No more lies. No more hiding in the dark.

Yes…I’m proud of these young gymnasts. And, everyone else in the #metoo movement. I wish there had been this same moral outrage when these athletes came forward. It would have helped them so much because, just as it’s difficult to walk the path of grief alone, so too is the walk of abuse. It is the original “walk of shame”…only we did nothing wrong. It was not our fault.

While I never wish pain on people as a rule, I felt a certain vindication when I watched that doctor with his face in his hands as he is forced to sit there while victim after victim sit before him and tell their stories. To see him take off his glasses and wipe the tears away and hang his head in shame gave me great satisfaction. My abuse occurred in a time when such things weren’t talked about. Therefore, my abusers went on and lived their lives unscathed. I don’t know if they ever felt bad. Did they ever have remorse? Did they ever think of me? Did they ever want to ask for my forgiveness but didn’t know where to find me? Or better yet, did they ask God to forgive them? Did they find salvation? Will we meet somewhere and have the opportunity to talk? One is dead. Too late. I’m not sure about the other one. He’d be about 74 years old now. I’ve forgiven them both long ago. But I do often wonder…what if? What if I could sit (or could have sat) in front of my abusers and tell them what their actions did to me. How it affected my family, my relationships, my children. How it affected my views of the world and my sense of personal safely and my relationship to sexuality. How their few moments stolen from me left a deep chasm in my psyche that I urgently tried to fill with drugs and alcohol, sex and shopping. How the memories I had so carefully packed deeply away in a place that could never be opened came crashing out on a sunny Saturday morning…ripping my neat and tidy little suburban doctor’s wife life into shreds.

Inappropriate crying?!?! You got a couple of hours to listen to WHY I was holding my baby and crying?!?! You tell me, doc. Because at that point, I had no words to describe what had happened, no one to listen…to really hear…and only tears to shed. Your answer? Drugs. Drugs, drugs, and more drugs.

“Shhhhh…here. Take this. Let us help.”

I was very nearly “doctored to death”.

Yes, today I am proud of these beautiful young women doing a job no one in their right mind wants to do. We should be living in a world where we don’t ever NEED to have these conversations. As Oprah said…there is a change coming.

Accountability.

A new dawn is rising.

Time’s up. ❤️

“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭18:6‬ ‭NIV

On Being Loved

Tue, 16 Jan 2018 02:30:37 -0600

Mr. FixIt and I have developed this little routine the last few months. We have a nice dinner and clear up the dishes. We sit together for a while and talk or maybe watch a movie or an episode of Big Bang or MASH. When it’s time for a bedtime snack, I take mine into the bedroom at the far end of the house and write while my sweetie watches a ball game or the news and weather. It works out great and we both have that little bit of alone time everyone needs in a relationship. I’ve taken to listening to nature sounds on Amazon Music as I write so quite often, in my head, there’s a thunderstorm raging or ocean waves are gently lapping at the shore or birds are singing in a tropical rainforest. It’s so soothing and easy to write to.

My guy bowls on a couple of leagues and has for over thirty years. Bowling offered him the opportunity to socialize with fun people. He is gregarious, and bowling has been a great outlet for him. The other night he stopped at the store on the way home. He always calls me before he heads home because no matter where we are staying…his house or mine…it is a good forty minutes from town. He asks if I need anything. Usually, I don’t. He called me from the driveway the other night and asked me to open the door. He’s not supposed to carry anything in his bad hand yet. When I greeted him at the door, he handed me the groceries and I ducked in the kitchen with them. It was SO cold out there…I wanted away from the door as fast as I could. When I turned around to hug him, he handed me this bouquet of yellow roses.

I love yellow roses. I love great big bouquets of mixed flowers but all in white. I love a live orchid. Mr. Virgo used to bring me flowers. And now…I have this sweet love…this good, good man. And HE brings me flowers, too. Guys like Mr. Virgo and Mr. FixIt are a rare breed. My sweetheart told me the other day he wished we had started dating in high school so we could have had our whole lives together. I understand that thinking, and it’s sweet…really. But the thing is, we are the people we are right now simply BECAUSE of the life experiences we have been through. There is a really big chance we wouldn’t have gotten along in our early years. All of our experiences have been opportunities for personal growth. We came together when we did because it was GOD’S timing…not ours.

When we can move over and get out of the way, God does extraordinary things in our lives. “Let go and let God” isn’t just a pithy saying or a tired cliche from an AA meeting. It is straight outta the instruction manual for life…the Bible. Oh, we are such proud creatures. We want to have control. We want to steer the boat and make it go where WE want it. At any given moment, there is a preordained course designed specifically for us. God knows your name. He has plans to prosper you. God loves you more than anyone in the world. He loves you more than you can fathom. You can make it SO much easier if you put God in the driver’s seat. The easiest way to do that is ask. Just ask Him…first thing in the morning. “Where are you going to take me today, Lord?” Then get out of the way. Oh, my…could it really be that easy??? ❤️

“Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“The Umbrella Incident” or “How to Feed Your Man”

Sat, 13 Jan 2018 02:30:33 -0600

“Winter Flooding in West Virginia” by Ginny McKinney

It all started innocently enough. It was going to rain and I was heading to town soon. As I jumped in the shower, I called out to Mr. FixIt.

“Honey…would you mind grabbing my umbrella out of the truck?”

When I got dressed and was heading out the door, I looked around. My umbrella wasn’t there. I asked if he had gotten it for me and Mr. FixIt said no. There was an umbrella there by the door. Now, it was a perfectly good umbrella. One that, you know, keeps rain off of you. But I wanted MY umbrella and I felt Mr. FixIt had made a decision for me. I didn’t like it.

Silly…that was just plain silly of me. But, I am my mother’s daughter and stubborn is my middle name. I hopped out the door and into the rain…sans umbrella.

“I’ll show YOU!” I thought as I made a mad dash for the truck. “I don’t need your stinky old boy umbrella!”

Ridiculous. I got wet because I got my nose out of joint. And why? Because, somewhere in the far recesses of my mind I equated “Please get my umbrella.” with “Please tell me you love me.” That is old school thinking right there…something I thought I left behind like…two relationships ago.

It’s been a couple of weeks now. And ever since, I’ve been criticizing Mr. FixIt’s every move. Mostly because he’s a man and he had surgery and he’s SUPPOSED to be taking care of that hand so it will heal properly and he’s as stubborn as me and he does things his way and….did I say he was stubborn? I have spent the better part of two weeks with “Don’t pick that up!” And “Here…let ME do it!” I think there were eye-rolls involved. All of this was done in an effort to punish him for a perceived slight that was nothing more than something made up in my head. Some unpacked baggage from seasons past that has absolutely nothing to do with him.

Then…the rain started.

It rained…hard. Yesterday morning I awoke to the sounds of the carpet cleaner sucking water up from the rug downstairs. The basement flooded! I jumped up and ran downstairs. And there was my man…emptying one gallon containers of dirty water into the sink…carrying them with two hands, one of which he isn’t supposed to lift anything heavier than popcorn.

“Breathe…breathe…don’t scold him. He’s not a child.” My inner voice reasoned with me.

“Did you plug in the sump pump?” I asked.

“No.” Shoulders slumped. Voice dejected.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked.

Shoulders slumped more. “Stupid. It was stupid.”

I took the carpet cleaner and started that part myself so he wouldn’t have to carry the bucket to the sink. Mr. FixIt went about sweeping up water in the room without carpet. He ran the vacuum. We didn’t talk much. Then I sent him off on an errand to town.

After he left, I went upstairs and fixed myself a cup of coffee. I sipped it as I ran the carpet cleaner back and forth over the soggy carpet. And I fumed. Then I could see the dejected slump of my sweetheart’s shoulders and my heart softened.

“Lord,” I said out loud. “I haven’t been loving this wonderful man you gave me the way I should. I haven’t been loving him the way you love me. And all because he didn’t get my umbrella for me!”

I sucked up more water, emptied the bucket, and began again.

“Lord, please give me the heart of a cheerful servant. Let me see all of his good qualities and none of the annoying traits that make us human. Can you do that for me, please?” I asked with sincere earnestness in my voice.

Suddenly, the old hymn “Farther Along” started up in my mind and I began to sing out loud as I vacuumed up bucket after bucket of water.

“Tempted and tried we’re oft made to wonder Why it should be thus all the day long While there are others living about us Never molested though in the wrong.

Farther along we’ll know all about it Farther along well understand why Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine We’ll understand it all by and by.

When death has come and taken our loved ones It leaves our home so lonely and drear Then do we wonder why others prosper Living so wicked year after year.

When we see Jesus coming in glory When he comes down from his home in the sky Then we shall meet him in that bright mansion We’ll understand it all by and by.

Farther along we’ll know all about it Farther along we’ll understand why Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine We’ll understand it all by and by.

Yes, we’ll understand it…all by and by.”

I sang and sang and in two verses…maybe three…something happened. Any negative thoughts I had been having dissolved. My heart was soft and open. God had indeed given me the heart of a cheerful servant, just as I had asked.

I went on and worked, happily singing and emptying bucket after bucket of dirty flood water. I worked for about three hours when Mr. FixIt walked in carrying breakfast for me. I went upstairs and gave him a great big hug and an even bigger smile. I thanked him profusely for bringing me a warm breakfast. I hadn’t taken time to eat. I patted the seat beside me. He shook his head and said no…he needed to get back to it.

“Please?” I begged. “Just for a minute.”

He smiled and sat down.

“Sweetheart, listen…I know you feel stupid for not plugging in the sump pump. But, I could have thought of it, too. And I didn’t. We unplugged it to put up the snowman for Christmas and just forgot. We make mistakes…it happens. It wasn’t your fault.” I put my hand on his knee and looked at him intently. I wanted to make sure he heard me.

Mr. FixIt turned those baby blues to mine and gave me his sweetest smile. And, I felt I’d made it right. This is how you feed a man. You feed his spirit. You feed his soul. You breathe life into him. When you start looking for the bad in your love…that’s all you will see. I really, REALLY don’t want to go there. Do I get it right all the time? Oh, heck no! I’m human, too. I stumble and forget and let my lower self talk WAY too often. But sometimes I get it right. Sometimes I remember to ask God for help. Yesterday was one of those days. ❤️

“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭4:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Here Comes the Rain

Fri, 12 Jan 2018 02:30:57 -0600

“Belpre Bridge” by Ginny McKinney

Yesterday morning was sunny and warm. By warm, I mean 47. As in…above freezing! And by afternoon it was 72 degrees according to the thermometer on my truck. swoon I haven’t felt this warm since sometime back in September. It was downright balmy out there!

Mr. FixIt and I had errands to run yesterday and he asked me mid-day what I’d like for lunch. My go to favorite? The Southwest Grilled Chicken Salad with Fat Free Honey Mustard Dressing from Chik-fil-A! And my go to favorite place to eat it? Point Park in Parkersburg. I wanted to watch the ice floes out on the Ohio River. Yesterday, there were three Blue Herons and a bunch of Seagulls sitting out on the ice. I believe two gents were trying to woo the same lady heron because one kept shooing off the interloper. Said lady was having none of it and kept flying away from Mr. Romance.

It had just started raining when we parked in our favorite spot. We really wanted to see a tug pushing barges through the ice but unfortunately, none came along. As an update, Mr. FixIt started working with a hand therapist yesterday. He’s doing really well. He did strain it a little last Sunday night when he pushed up off the floor, but it’s much better now. The therapist made a custom splint for his wrist and thumb that is much sturdier than the one he was given at the surgeon’s office and I am relieved. I was very worried he would slip on the ice and snow last week and really do some damage. We sure don’t want to have to go through this again!

One of my friends and his wife lost their faithful companion, Blue, yesterday. When I was so lonely and hurting, so many of my readers encouraged me to adopt a dog, but this is exactly why I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t put myself through that loss. Mr. Virgo and I put our seventeen-year-old Yorkie-Maltese mix down just three months before Mr. Virgo himself died suddenly. We had had Cricket cremated and were going to spread her ashes in the flower garden in the spring. When Mr. Virgo died, I just put that little box of ashes in the casket with him and swore I’d never have another dog. My heart aches for those who lose their beloved fur babies.

With the nature of grief being so unpredictable, sometimes you literally feel as though you are just one crisis away from losing it entirely. I cannot tell you how many times I have been in the throes of grief, and the accompanying anxiety, and I have felt like I just couldn’t handle one more thing. As a matter of fact, the FEAR of having one more thing happen actually escalated everything. I have an arsenal of coping strategies at my disposal, but sometimes the slope is too steep and the boulder gains too much momentum too fast. There were so many nights when it all got away from me and all I could do was cling to God and pray for morning. If I can get a hold of the wave early enough, the best thing I can do is get out of the situation I’m in. It usually hits me when I’m in bed, so I get up and do something…scrub the kitchen floor, clean out the fridge, run the vacuum.

Another thing that will stop things from spinning out of control for me is writing. There have been countless times I’ve sat down to write my post while I’m feeling the waves of grief and anxiety come over me. As I write, I can literally feel the stress, fear, and anxiety fade…sometimes melting away entirely. I can’t stress enough how much writing can help you through grief. You don’t have to have a blog. Get a journal and write in it every night. I not only wrote this blog, but I filled several personal journals through the first two or three years after Mr. Virgo died. Writing saved me. TOW-Wanda saved me. God saved me. ❤️

““This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘Write in a book all the words I have spoken to you.” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭30:2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Bent Reed

Thu, 11 Jan 2018 02:30:39 -0600

“The Bent Reed” by Ginny McKinney

A lot of people are struggling right now. I don’t know what it is about January. Sure, there’s the let down after the holidays. There’s the long, dark nights. There’s the bitterly cold, grey days. But there’s more than that. There’s a lot of loss.

I have friends who are dealing with very serious health issues…either of their own or members of their immediate family. I get prayer requests daily…from multiple people. Disasters, accidents, illness, death. Add this on top of the usual slump of January and it can send you down in a spiral in a hurry.

I was reminded of this beautiful verse the other day. I wish I would have had it written down so I could have carried it with me in those first long dark winter months without Mr. Virgo. I know it would have helped. As with all things, it has come to me now…when it means the most. When I need it the most. When I need to share it. God always provides.

My mom died after a brief illness of five days in January 2014. My cousin’s husband a year later at 50. My sweet Uncle Bob the next January. January is just not a good month…for me and for a lot of other people.

I bought a new computer the other day. When I was setting it up this week, I noticed a bunch of photos had come down out of the cloud. I hadn’t seen them in a long time, since my computer has been on the fritz for a while. I was scrolling through when my screen was filled with…Mr. Virgo…in his casket. A friend took the picture for me. At first, I thought it was macabre. Then I realized I needed to have that. For a long time it was the only thing that would allow me to cry. I needed to get that out. But somewhere along the line, the pictures from the funeral home made their way up into the cloud and I didn’t see them again. Till this week. It was like getting sucker punched when that popped up, filling my screen with a vision so painful you can feel it in your bones.

Yes, a lot of people are struggling. Debbie’s husband Toby is in the hospital. Sue’s friend had a biopsy today. Lynn’s family is struggling. Diane lost both her parents and her father-in-law in Januarys along the way and her best friend just lost his dad. The world seems to be reeling under forces whipping it into a frenzy. So, again…I am reminded of this verse.

God will not break a bent reed. He will not snuff out a smoldering flame. When you are at your weakest point, God is still strong. The same God that gave his Son. The same God that walked on water and rose the dead and healed blind men. The same God that breathed life into this world lives today. And He knocks. And He waits. He is a patient, polite God. He will not impose himself. He will not barge in on you. He waits for you to open the door. Opening that door is what has made it possible for me to keep breathing, to keep walking forward through every storm…through every season. I was only bent. ❤️

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out…” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭42:3‬ ‭NIV

Old Friends

Mon, 08 Jan 2018 02:30:25 -0600

Our babies were just wee ones when we met. We were taking a sewing class together which really turned out to be twice a week therapy for busy moms to vent and create something beautiful. Sue took my breath away. Tall and slender with that long, thick, full-bodied hair those of us with baby fine strands drool over, she embodied the earth mother I so desperately wanted to be. We became fast friends. We got together and had tea. We hiked. We stitched and b****ed our way through our children’s youth. We were soccer moms. And, even though we were several years apart in age, we had so much in common.

Sue is one of those friends you may not speak to more than once or twice a year. But when you do, you feel this incredible soul connection and time disappears. We pass each other on Facebook. We give each other virtual hugs and atta girls. We know we are never more than a message or a text or a phone call away.

Sue moved away from Glenwood Springs a couple of years before that cataclysmic event…the overdose…and my world changed dramatically. She was so worried about me. She was supportive and listened and offered me unconditional love. There was a long stretch of time when we didn’t get to see each other. She was at our wedding. Then Mr. Virgo died and she couldn’t come to the funeral. When I went on my three month journey into the wilderness and backroads of Colorado, Sue invited me to her little “ranchita” down near the Four Corners area. She had ten acres overlooking Mesa Verde. She had a labyrinth she had designed and built. By this time, she was an accomplished yogi.

The day I arrived at her place near Dolores, Sue came running out of the house and grabbed me. She hugged me tight then pulled back and looked me in the eyes.

“You said you were doing ok…but I had to see for myself. I wouldn’t know for sure till I squeezed you!” Then she drew me in for another hug.

Sue ministers to you with softness, compassion. She settled me in the rocking chair by the big picture window. She brought me tea. She sat with me and we rocked…the comforting quiet hanging between us like a well worn quilt as we watched the birds at the immense feeder just beyond the glass. We drove to Silverton one day to be at the finish line of a mountain bike race. I was terribly anxious the night before. I had a really hard time with anxiety the first year or two after Mr. Virgo died. Sue sat with me for hours into the night as I cried and threw up and was generally a horrible mess. She’s that friend…the one who loves you when you’re really messy. She is the one who kicked me in the butt and made me write my book. She said…”Write it now while there is pain in your heart. We will feel it. If you try to write it after you heal, you will lose that voice.” She is so right. I love her dearly.

It’s a new year…time for us to reconnect. Sue and I talked for two hours and twenty-two minutes last night. We discussed all the changes in our lives…all the changes to come. And we decided to plan a yoga retreat. We’ll have yoga sessions as well as talks…nutrition, self-care, grief, art, music, writing. I have a picture in my mind of what I want it to look like. I’ll let you know as we formulate a plan and I’d love you to come!

Life is full of interesting twists and turns, isn’t it? My word this year is “presence”. By being present, I will flow through life more awake, more open, more prepared to embrace challenges. Retreats have been a HUGE dream of mine. Time to start letting that dream out to play! ❤️

“gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” ‭‭Galatians‬ ‭5:23‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Epiphany

Sun, 07 Jan 2018 02:30:01 -0600

Epiphany

Epiphany; noun: plural noun: epiphanies

A) the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12).

B) the festival commemorating the Epiphany on January 6.

C) a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being.

D) a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

Yesterday was Epiphany. Traditionally, it marks the end of the Christmas Season. The day the Three Wise Men visited the baby Jesus and bestowed their gifts to Him.

Epiphany also means a sudden revelation, insight, and/or appearance of a supernatural being. Eighteen years ago, I experienced epiphany on many, many levels. I was seven years into a devastating depression…one I could see no way out of. I was over prescribed medications by a medical community that my husband at the time belonged to. I was a doctor’s wife. I had WAY too ready access to medications I had no business being on because a referral pattern is a terrible thing to waste. Doctors hate to take care of other doctor’s family. It puts a lot of pressure on them to go above and beyond…to be exemplary…to have a positive outcome, no matter what. Unfortunately for me, that meant seven years of medications that made me a zombie. Add a psychiatrist who told me at every visit, that this was just the way I was…I would need to take these medicines every day for the rest of my life…that I had a chemical imbalance in my brain. I lost my 40’s…literally. My marriage was irreparably damaged. December of 1999 found me struggling. My 20th Anniversary came and my husband told me he wasn’t in love with me anymore. I was devastated. I couldn’t see how I could possibly live without him. I circled the drain and on January 6, 2000…I overdosed on two full bottles of pills and I very easily could have died.

As they worked on me in the emergency room…these doctors and nurses with whom my husband and I socialized…I “faded”. My vision became a tunnel. My hearing damped down till it sounded like I had tin cans over my ears. I didn’t see a great white light like some talk about when they have a near-death experience. I’ve drawn it here, as close as I can. It was this incredibly beautiful disc of cobalt blue with golden rays of light radiating from it all around like an eclipse. It was ethereal and sparkly and incredibly peaceful.

As I stood in this immense ocean of blue light, my hearing left me and there was no sound. Dead air. Nothing. And suddenly, my grandma’s voice cut through the silence and straight into my left ear, as if she were standing beside me and bent down to speak directly to me. She shouted at me!

“Young lady…you get back down there right now! You have work to do!!!”

Immediately, my eyes flew open wide and I was in the ER, lying on a gurney, the overhead light shining in my eyes. I squinted at the glare and the sudden rush of noise. I rolled up on my side and threw up violently. After a while, I turned on my back. A nurse was leaning over me…a look of sincere concern on her face. I burst into tears when I realized what had happened. I kept crying, “I’m so ashamed, I’m so ashamed, I’m so ashamed.” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close to her and whispered in my ear, “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve been sick. You’re going to be ok.”

I was at the bottom of the barrel in that moment and I had to begin a very long climb back. It took a great deal of intense therapy to convince me the other doctor was wrong and I really didn’t have a chemical imbalance in my brain. It took a full three years to wean off the medications he had me on. My marriage was over. I nearly lost my relationship with my kids. It took a huge amount of work, strength, and determination to rebuild my life.

I think that experience actually gave me tools to help me cope with losing Mr. Virgo years later. I survived that horrible ordeal. I surely could survive this one. I’ll survive the next. It’s fitting that the overdose occurred on Epiphany. The symbolic ending. The supernatural appearance of my grandma’s disembodied voice…nine months after her death. The moment of sudden revelation and insight that I had gone as far away from where God wanted me to be as I could possibly go.

I look back on those years with a sadness that I lost so much. I look back on that night with the absolute conviction that God sent the one person I would listen to…my grandma. I believe with all my heart that God saved me that night because He wasn’t done with me. He still had work for me to do. And, I also believe I could not have done any of this work if I had never had those seven years of walking through hell…if I had never had that devastating overdose…if I had not nearly lost everything.

Those of you who have been following me for a long time have probably heard this story before because I consider January 6th my “Re-Birth Day” in a literal sense. My second chance. My do-over. And for those of you new enough that you haven’t heard it yet, it might give you a sense of where I’ve been, even before the devastating loss of Mr. Virgo. We all have struggles in life. And, so far, I’ve survived all of them 100% of the time. For a long time, I was embarrassed by this story. Depression. Anxiety. Drugs. Dysfunction. Once I became a Christian, I realized God can use me to help others in similar circumstances. If I shine His Light into every dark corner of my life and show that Light to you, then I am doing what He put me on this earth to do. I’m at peace with that part of my life now. It doesn’t embarrass me. I am not ashamed. I am strengthened by a God that wouldn’t let ME decide it was time to go. I am immensely grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given…a chance to rebuild broken relationships…a chance at great love, not just once, but twice. I’ve lost much…but I’ve gained so much more. ❤️

““Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭60:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Greater is the One

Sat, 06 Jan 2018 02:30:38 -0600

The nature of my writing has grown with the changes I have gone through on my grief journey. Early on, it was so incredibly painful to even try to put words together to express my pain. I understood for the first time how God could hear our prayers when all we can manage are groans. Once the words started, it was like releasing a torrent. My pain literally fell onto the pages and it was emotionally exhausting…for me, and for you as well. The release was cathartic. The more I let it go, the more my heart healed.

Not everyone has a blog where they can release the pent up pain, anger, frustration, confusion that comes with grief. I am blessed with this venue and I don’t take any of you for granted. Your feedback and support has been so incredibly healing for me. I am blessed with family and friends who were supportive during the early months of my grief. The day Mr. Virgo died and I called my daughters, they dropped what they were doing and jumped in their cars to begin the long drive to be with me. They stayed by my side. They answered the phone for me. They made important calls. They took me everywhere I needed to go. Daughter #1 slept with me every night with her arm across my chest to protect me, to calm me, to reassure me I was not alone.

People gathered and surrounded me with love and support and food. My daughters and I bought every funny DVD we could find and tried to find someplace to land besides terror and pain. My friends held me in silence…the same friends who dressed me for my wedding and placed the flowers all around. Here they were…nearly six years to the day…doing the only thing they could do. After we lay Mr. Virgo in the ground, we gathered at our home…my home. I went straight to the humidor and got the expensive cigar he was saving for golf in the summer. I grabbed the bottle of Courvoisier I had used for Mr. Virgo’s favorite fruitcake. And I gathered the men…and my younger daughter. She was particularly close to her stepdad. We went to the front porch and smoked the cigar, and passed the bottle around till it was gone. We told manly stories of golf and travel, hotels and restaurants…all things Mr. Virgo.

After everyone left, the family gathered me up and took me to a restaurant to entice me to eat. I hadn’t had much of anything but coffee for days. It was the day before St. Patrick’s Day…a fine day to be buried, Mr. Virgo would have said. My daughters needed to get back to Denver. Daughter #1 offered to stay longer if I needed her. And while I did…desperately…I said no. I knew she needed to get back to her own family…her own life. And so, just like that, they were gone. And the house became quiet.

I stayed home alone for a week. I had paperwork to do and some things to wrap up at work. I packed a bag, stopped my mail, and headed to Denver to be near the kids. My son-in-law’s parents kept me at their home. I don’t remember the first week I was there…except that I didn’t get dressed for a week and only occasionally ventured out of the room for a little food. I slept much of the time. Finally, I started to join the land of the living again.

Slowly…ever so slowly…I moved forward. Days became weeks and week, months. The firsts started…my first birthday without him, his birthday, the holidays. Our wedding anniversary was just three weeks after he died. People called to see how I was doing. They sent cards and texts and checked in with me on Facebook. One of my daughter’s friends from high school contacted me every week for the first year. And eventually…they all moved on. It was inevitable. They can’t stay forever. They can’t stop their lives forever.

At first, I was really put out. I still needed to vent. I still needed to cry. I needed to tell every story, a hundred times. I needed so much. I needed more than they could ever give. I have to say, I never felt completely abandoned. I am blessed to have the most fabulous people in my life who would listen to me even today if I called and cried. However…I did feel “like a burden”, as one of my readers put it. I didn’t want to unload on them all the time. Somehow, I managed to reach that tipping point where I realized I needed to start managing this pain on my own. That was a really lonely stretch. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have to sit in that “waiting room” (as my friend Christina Rasmussen calls it in her book, Second Firsts) forever, but I had no idea how long I’d be in this social limbo. I wanted to stay alone forever AND I wanted to be with people. I wanted to be invited out AND I wanted to never talk to another soul. I wanted to feel normal AND I didn’t want to feel anything. Oh….grief is crazy making.

I had to have something to hang onto…something, someONE, who would anchor me and keep me from flying off the face of the earth. Even though I had been a Christian for seven years, I only attended church sporadically. One Sunday morning, many months after Mr. Virgo died, I decided I needed to talk to someone who never tired of hearing my cries. Someone who would give and give and give…no matter how much I needed. Who would love me no matter how messy or messed up I got. I went back to church…and I’ve been going ever since.

As much as people want to help…they are people. They are fallible. They can say the wrong things. They can feel overwhelmed by your pain. They can burn out from your grief. But God? God never gets tired of hearing from you. God never gets tired of comforting you. He never gets tired of holding you close. Greater is the one who lives within me than the one who lives in the world. God is the one…the only one who will always, always love you. Even when you cry that horrible snot-slinging cry that no one needs to see. Even when you are so anxious you stay up puking all night. Even when your life seems not worth living. The only way you can lose is to give up. Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. Because joy comes again. It sneaks in the cracks of your broken heart when you least expect it. Not all at once…just a little tiny bit at a time. But it comes, dear one. Hang on…it comes. ❤️

“You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.” ‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

#God, #Love, #Light

Deep Freeze

Fri, 05 Jan 2018 02:30:21 -0600

Winter Dawn by Ginny McKinney

As most of the country settles in for a rough ride on the Snowball Express, I am sitting here snug as a bug in a rug at Mr. FixIt’s house. I’ve taken to listening to praise music as I write my posts. I’ve changed things up and started writing during the day instead of late at night. I thought it might give me a different perspective and add a new dimension to the blog. The praise music not only keeps my heart in the right place, it inspires me to write about a scripture instead of the other way around. All this time I have written my post then I’d go look for an appropriate scripture that illustrated what my thinking was. That’s a much more time consuming process.

I downloaded an app on my phone called Moment. It tracks my screen time and frankly, I was appalled when I saw how much time I spend staring at a screen. Granted, it’s not all mindless surfing or game playing. A good portion of it is spent writing these posts. Now, that in itself is not a bad thing by any means. It’s just that…I have this really sweet guy that would probably enjoy a little more attention and a little less screen time. So, I’m trying a few new things…new tactics to shave a little time off the screen and a little more looking into those baby blues that look so adoringly into mine. Win-Win, right?

Another thing I’m going to try is, at least on occasion, including my drawings as the cover photo for my posts. This gives me the opportunity to practice…not only the drawings themselves, but the opportunity to be bold in sharing them. We all need opportunities to be bold.

So, here I sit…snuggled on the sofa under that beautiful blue fox fur blanket. A fresh latte. Kari Jobe. A fire. Snow softly falling. My tree will remain to bring me light and peace well into the new year. I have the promise of a meteor shower and a blue moon to look forward to this month. The year is fresh with hope and promise. And I have this really cool Apple Pencil and Procreate…the world is at my fingertips! My heart is full, even in the depths of this bitter cold. Stay warm, my friends. ❤️

“Out of the south cometh the whirlwind: and cold out of the north.” ‭‭Job‬ ‭37:9‬ ‭KJV‬‬

On Being Brave

Thu, 04 Jan 2018 02:30:08 -0600

I step out…WAY out of my comfort zone here sometimes. I believe in pushing boundaries in order to grow. It has made me a stronger, more well-rounded person to stretch since Mr. Virgo died.

I’ve always been creative. I can draw and paint landscapes, flowers, houses and do a pretty fair rendition. But people and animals…faces…elude me. I never get the proportion right. I’m heavy handed. There is no “life” in them.

When my iPad died at the beginning of the year and I bought a new one, there was this white pencil lying next to it. I asked the salesman what it was and he told me it was a new tool to draw with. He showed me a program called Procreate and he could turn the pencil into a paintbrush loaded with oils or a big, fat pastel or a fine technical pencil. Anything…this thing can be anything! It was magic to me and I HAD to have it. Have it, I did. I knew I wouldn’t have time to really use it until the long dark nights of winter so I’ve been anxiously waiting to play with it.

I have no idea why on earth I would start with a face. I did a study on eyes. I did a quick sketch that vaguely resembled Mr. FixIt. Then I put on my headphones, turned on the Kari Jobe station on Amazon Music and closed my eyes. I thought of Jesus as I listened to the praise music and pictured His face. Then I started to draw. I tried to “get out of the way” and let my hand draw what I saw in my mind. I enjoyed watching it take shape. It’s amateurish, to say the least. And (here’s where I’m stepping out of my comfort zone) I’m sharing it with you here.

I’m much better at painting a picture with words. I’m much better at making a quilt or stitching a sampler or knitting a pair of socks. I’m much better at making jewelry out of old silverware or antique maps. A long time ago, I tried my hand at writing and I listened to the wrong people. They told me my writing wasn’t publishable. That it really wasn’t good. And I believed that, so I stopped trying. This drawing of Jesus may not be very good…but nothing anyone ever says to me will ever make me stop trying again. No matter what it is I’m trying to do.

It doesn’t matter what the end product looks like. It doesn’t matter if a piece of art is gallery worthy. It doesn’t matter if you can’t carry a tune in a washtub. It doesn’t matter if your words aren’t Pulitzer Prize material. What matters is one thing…does it give you joy? If it does…do that! Don’t worry about what others might think. Don’t worry about being judged. Just do what brings you joy!

I’ll keep drawing. Who knows? My writing has improved over the years. Maybe the drawing will, too. But honestly? It’s a form of meditation for me…no matter how it looks. Be brave and stretch! ❤️

““Now get up, Ezra. Take charge—we’re behind you. Don’t back down.”” ‭‭Ezra‬ ‭10:4‬ ‭MSG‬‬

Surviving the Climb

Wed, 03 Jan 2018 02:30:36 -0600

Occasionally I get a comment on my blog from someone so fresh on this grief journey that they are lost. They don’t know where to turn or what to do next. They are obviously in a great deal of pain and my heart breaks for them because…I know. I’ve been there. Many of us have. I respond to every single comment on my blog. Most often it’s with a ❤️, just to let you know I have seen your comment. Occasionally, I write something back. On this particular occasion, I wrote a whole essay as my response. After giving it some thought, I decided it was time again to revisit “How do you survive this?”

My reader lost her husband unexpectedly in early November. He was minding his own business, driving to work, when he was struck head-on by an impaired driver and was killed. Her world was shattered. The future she had planned with her husband was gone. To add insult to injury, her husband’s death was followed in rapid succession by Thanksgiving, his birthday, an important graduation, Christmas, and New Years. All without him. Her question? How do you cope with this?

Here is my response:

First, let me tell you my heart is with you, dear one. You are SO fresh on this journey and it’s so difficult. Having all those firsts, one after another when the ink is hardly dry must be unbearable. I can’t tell you how to grieve because it’s such a personal thing. I can tell you how I dealt with things and hopefully it will help you as well. If you haven’t yet, do go to Marshmallow Ranch on Facebook and see if you can scroll back to the early days of my blog. You will find much more relatable material there. I started the blog in January 2013 as a way to promote jewelry I was making. Then Mr. Virgo died in March. That’s when the blog morphed into an online grief journal. I know that’s a lot of material to sort through, but it just might help.

At your stage of this journey, let me say this…there is no rule book. But here’s a list of ways to cope.

Don’t let anyone say you should do it this way or you shouldn’t do it that way. Do it your way.
You will make mistakes. Don’t be too hard on yourself when you do.
Be careful…extra careful with your money.
Get plenty of rest, eat right, and exercise as you can.
Avoid drugs and alcohol…they are nothing but bandaids that put off the hurt. That goes for new relationships. I know, I know. I thought that was crazy too till I got involved with someone just five months after my beloved died. I just wanted the pain to go away but when I pulled that bandage off, dear God…it was worse.
Feel your feelings. Cry when you need to. Laugh when you can.
There’s an actual condition called grief brain. You can’t remember squat and it may be scary as the dickens. Don’t worry…it does get better in time. You never go back to baseline, but you do get better.
You won’t be in this fog forever and eventually you will feel joy. Don’t feel guilty for that.
I found the services of a grief counselor to be extremely helpful. I had PTSD from watching the CPR for hours so I had EMDR treatments which helped immensely.

Remember…you don’t “get over” this…you get through it. But, you will never be the same. Let me repeat that…you will never be the same. Don’t even try to find the old you. She is gone. Once a pickle, always a pickle…you don’t get to go back to being a fresh little cucumber again. Whether you become a sour or sweet pickle is largely up to you. Do NOT give up hope of finding a good life, though. You can…and you will…with determination and perseverance.

I realized early on that he died, I did not. I owed it to his memory to live…actually LIVE the days my husband was not given. Since we were looking at campers when he died, I went out and bought one and joined Sisters on the Fly…a women’s adventure group. I also belong to Girl Campers. These are all empowering groups that helped me become brave and strong.

One last word of caution. It’s ok to mattress surf once in a while but don’t live there. Get up every day, splash water on your face, brush your teeth, and get dressed. Make your bed. You’re not as likely to climb back in it if it’s made. Scrub your kitchen sink. A clean sink sets the tone for the day in my book. Even if you just move from the bed to the couch…you’ve moved. Keep moving. One step, two steps. Eventually you will be able to take a deep breath again. (Oh, that’s also a thing. Physiologically, grief causes you to sigh a lot which makes you try to take deep breaths and it’s difficult. You almost feel like you can’t get a deep enough breath. Unless you are passing out or have chest pain or prolonged irregular heartbeat or cold, clammy sweat, its nothing to be worried about. Always ask your healthcare professional if you are concerned about your health. However…this sensation disappears after some time.)

Tincture of time. That’s how I dealt with the loss of my husband. Move forward…and pray, a lot. You may not feel Him there, but God is with your every step. He holds you in the palm of His hand and He weeps for your pain. Let Him wrap His feathers around you and take your rest there. Come back here anytime you need some support. You may send me private messages at any time and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Prayers for comfort and strength, dear one. This is a club we didn’t ask to join. You will learn how to perform magic like tap dancing around that husband-sized hole in your heart without falling in…every…damn…time.

Grief comes in waves. At first it knocks you down. Eventually you learn to expect the waves and you can lean in and keep your footing without drowning. It’s almost five years since my loss and I have built a new life. I have expanded my social circle and have learned many new skills. And…much to my amazement…I have found love again and it is so sweet and rich. Mostly because now I have a thorough understanding of just what I lost and how incredibly precious life and love are.

We all know someone who suffers a loss. We don’t always know how to help or what to say. May I suggest bookmarking this page and share it when appropriate? Share it with everyone you know because someone knows someone who is hurting. Let’s make this the year we reach out to widows and widowers and offer them whatever comfort and support we can. ❤️

“Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭13:16‬ ‭ESV

“Ramona and Her Pet Burro, Bob” or “How My Memory Has Changed Since Mr. Virgo Died”

Tue, 02 Jan 2018 02:30:57 -0600

We went to the farm yesterday. On our way there, Mr. Fixit pointed out the two little burros huddling in a shed, trying to keep warm in the frigid 9 degree air. Seeing the little burros, my mind immediately went soaring back forty years to one of the favorite periods of my life. When I met Hubby #2, he was a Physical Therapist who worked across the hall from me. I was the X-Ray Tech for a small rehabilitation hospital in downtown Denver. He was also finishing some pre-med classes at CU Boulder in preparation for applying to medical school. We were young and in love and poor as church mice. Daughter #1 was three years old. We had no money so we were adept at finding activities that were free, or nearly so. It was cool to be poor struggling students.

It was the late ‘70s. Trivial Pursuit was HOT and we played it a lot. H#2 told me about the Trivia Bowl that was held annually at UC Boulder. It was free, it was close, and it was fun. It was held in a large room. Two teams sat at tables on a makeshift stage and the audience stood shoulder to shoulder around a packed room…a rowdy crowd. I don’t remember a lot about that night. After all, it was forty years ago. But I do remember one team was called “Ramona and Her Pet Burro, Bob”. How could you forget that, right? I also remember one of the questions was,…”What were the tail numbers on Sky King’s plane?” What??? I knew I was witnessing trivia royalty when one young student slammed his hand down on the buzzer in a fraction of a second and shouted out…”N5348A!” You’re kidding! Ok, I Googled it just now…but I was in awe back then. Who remembers stuff like that?

My memory isn’t what it used to be. You don’t get to Medicare age without losing a little something. It’s been made worse by grief and the head injury I suffered in February didn’t help matters. I’ll bet memory loss…or, “grief brain”…is the subject I address most often with those who have recently lost a loved one. I remember I thought I was going crazy or something was wrong with me when I couldn’t keep track of anything in the first couple of years after losing Mr. Virgo. I made lists and then couldn’t remember where I put them. Or my notes seemed cryptic and made no sense when I revisited them. It was a scary time. Will my memory come back? Will it get worse? What is wrong with me?

I don’t remember who told me about grief brain (see???) but I do very much recall the overwhelming sense of relief I felt knowing it wasn’t just me. That’s when I knew for sure I needed to write this blog. Because not everyone has someone to mentor them and while I wasn’t far enough along to actually BE a mentor, I could share what I was learning and feeling along the way. One of the greatest gifts you are given from grief comes when you turn around and offer a hand to someone who is further back the road than you are. It is the price we pay for the grace we receive during our own grief journey.

Memory…its a slippery sucker. I still will get a brilliant flash of an idea for a post that I just know will resonate with someone…and if I don’t write it down, or make some sort of correlation in my mind to remember it later, it’s gone. That is probably the single most frustrating thing I face when I write. I still have a hard time making myself write down ideas because I swear I’ll be able to remember. It’s aggravating. The tool that helps me most is the “Note” app on my phone. I can jot ideas down and when I hit a lean period and have trouble coming up with a topic, I go into my list and find something that is currently applicable. It’s not like it used to be. It never will be. But it works for the most part.

Just knowing you aren’t alone in this is often all you need to relax into the flow and be present with your feelings. No matter how difficult your struggle, God is always there with you whether you feel Him or not. Knowing that can bring enormous comfort. ❤️

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”” ‭‭Joshua‬ ‭1:9‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Out With the Old...In With the New!!!

Mon, 01 Jan 2018 02:30:47 -0600

I love when the calendar turns to a new year. The slate is wiped clean and you can start fresh…a great big do over. Never was this more impactful to me personally than January 1, 2014. It was the first New Year’s Day after losing Mr. Virgo. Somehow, I had it in my head that if I could just say “My husband died last year” it would somehow make the loss easier. It didn’t. Not by a long shot.

I had, in my crazed grief-stricken brain, thought it would be a good idea to start dating someone…just five months after my sweet husband died. Holy Mother of God…what was I thinking??? In my defense…I wasn’t thinking. That first year…well, really the first two years…I wasn’t sane. Not in a conventional definition of the word anyway. I did some things right, but my thinking was just off. My decision making skills were lacking. Thank God time and lots of prayer and introspection have brought me to this new place…this new life.

Now when I look at the New Year, I contemplate where I’ve been, what I’ve done, and formulate new goals. I don’t make resolutions. I’ve never kept a resolution in my life. But I do come up with a focus word. The word for 2017 was “Reach”. I think I lived up to that. I launched a new website. I spoke to several groups. I was interviewed on several podcasts and publications. I had a branded series developed for me called “Getting Bolder” on the Sisters on the Fly website. I continued to write an essay every day here. I traveled to Florida twice, the Outer Banks, Tennessee, and Colorado. I camped and/or had outings with the Girl Campers and Sisters on the Fly several times. I continued working on my social media platform to improve my chances of selling this book I’ve got basically written. And…I introduced you to Mr. FixIt. It’s been a really big year and I reached about as far as I could!

So, now I need a new word for the new year. There are so many things I want to practice in the coming year. Patience. I am not a patient person. Compassion. I try, but I am not always successful practicing compassion with people who try my patience. Love. I want to feel my Heavenly Father’s love and involvement in everything I do so that I might feel that same love toward everyone…including those to whom I want to show compassion because they have tried my patience. You see where I’m going with this? You might think I’m going to choose the word “Patience” to meditate on this year, but you’d be wrong. I learned a long time ago not to pray for patience because when I do, God gives me every single little opportunity to practice it and I just don’t have it in me to be that challenged anymore. No, I have a different word in mind.

My choice? Presence.

If I am present in all I do, I am here to show up and do what is needed. If I am present…I feel God’s love. If I am present…I can actively choose to love others as Jesus loves me. If I feel God’s love, and actively choose to love others the way Jesus loves me, in every interaction I have…everything gets better. My relationships with family and friends are bound to improve. My interactions with others…even complete strangers…can only improve when I exemplify the kind of love Jesus has for me.

How do you remain present in today’s hectic world? To achieve the kind of presence I am looking for, I need to start every day with a connection to the Source. I need to reach for His Word first…before Facebook. Before the news and weather. Even before Mr. FixIt. It doesn’t take much. Five minutes. Five minutes first thing every morning, before anything else, I will seek His face and feel His love for me. I will invite Him to come into my day…into my world…and walk with me. It’s no different than asking any other loved one to go for a walk with me. But the benefits are undeniably higher.

That’s my word. Presence. Feel every moment. Focus on God’s love. Bring His Love and Light into every aspect of my life. I can’t help but shine! ❤️

“After looking at the way things are on this earth, here’s what I’ve decided is the best way to live: Take care of yourself, have a good time, and make the most of whatever job you have for as long as God gives you life. And that’s about it. That’s the human lot. Yes, we should make the most of what God gives, both the bounty and the capacity to enjoy it, accepting what’s given and delighting in the work. It’s God’s gift! God deals out joy in the present, the now. It’s useless to brood over how long we might live.” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭5:18-20‬ ‭MSG‬‬

True Love Has No End

Sun, 31 Dec 2017 02:30:44 -0600

They weren’t much more than kids when they met. I remember the first time I met my cousin Tommy’s girlfriend, Suzy. I had such a crush on Tommy in his Navy whites. And Suzy was as sweet as they come. She’s been around as long as I can remember.

I’ve told you about Tommy. He has mesothelioma. There is no cure. And up until the last few years, there really wasn’t much to even offer people in the way of treatment. But they did their homework and took Tommy to the doc who wrote the book on Meso and as a result, he has had two really good years he may not have had before.

The treatments Tom has received are not without side effects. The toxic meds have all but killed his kidneys. They have exhausted treatment after treatment yet, thanks to generous donations and scientific breakthroughs, more and more treatments become available. Maybe someday, they will find a cure. Because…you know. Cancer sucks.

Tommy faces his illness and death with a positive attitude and a great deal of courage. They haven’t been afraid to “start the conversation”. They talk about death and his design…how does he want his story to end when he gets to the last chapter. Suzy is brave and strong. Their love knows no bounds as they recently celebrated their 56th wedding anniversary.

This year, Tommy wanted to give his “best girl” a gift that would knock her socks off. He wanted something so deeply meaningful that she would cherish it forever. Their daughter videotaped the moment for posterity. Suzy opened her gift ever so slowly. Indoor/outdoor slippers. (laughter) Then someone points out there’s something inside. Suzy looks closer and there it is…a small box tucked into one slipper.

“You stinker,” she gently chided this man she’s known forever.

She goes on to open the second gift when a puzzled look comes across her face. She turns to Tom and says, “For us?” She thought they were a matching set of rings. She looks again and finally can see…they are earrings. Someone off camera says…”Look at the ring.”

Suzy is still puzzled then Tommy holds up his left hand and she can see he is no longer wearing his wedding band.

“No!” she cried. “No! Not your ring!” You can see she is instantly devastated. Until Tommy bends toward her and shows her that he has had the date of their wedding engraved on the back. At this point, The enormity of this selfless gift suddenly hits Suzy and she puts her face in her hand and cries.

This is a sweet, personal moment between two wonderful people who love each other without limits. No disease…no cancer…not even death will truly separate these two. I asked for permission to share their story here. For one reason, I love them both so much. Second, I wanted to stress the importance of having “the conversation”, and three…I wanted to give you an idea what to do with his/her ring. Earrings made from a ring that has been cut in half would make a wonderful remembrance.

We don’t know the future. It’s not a matter of if, you know. It’s…when. We pray for a cure. We pray for new medicines. We pray for good quality of life. Time. We pray for time. Lots and lots. Oodles of time. We will love our loved ones like it’s our last day on earth…or theirs. And we will hold fast to the tokens of love like there’s no tomorrow. ❤️

www.facebook.com/melissa.a…

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2:4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Let Me Entertain You

Sat, 30 Dec 2017 02:30:39 -0600

One of the all time BEST things about Mr. FixIt is this…he LOVES to have guests over as much as I do. I know it’s hart for you to believe but…I love to talk with people and learn about them and visit and tell stories. We had dinner guests three times this week. What a blessing it is to share a table with friends and family.

We started with an appetizer of baked brie en croute with fig jam. It sounds like something complicated but it wasn’t. I bought it at Sam’s, baked it at 375 for 20 minutes. Done!

Our dinner guests brought salad and I served it with hot rolls and an aioli of crushed herbs, salt, pepper, more of that wonderful Chardonnay Garlic infused olive oil drizzled over top, and a small pool of both Mango pulp and Blueberry vinegar. Yummmmm!

For the main course, I roasted two chickens. I did something completely different. I stuffed them with whole garlic cloves, quartered onions, and wedges of lemon. I trussed them up with kitchen twine, rubbed the sling with Chardonnay Garlic Olive Oil and sprinkled them with fresh ground pepper, ground pink Himalayan salt, more garlic, rustic herbs, and crushed rosemary. I placed a parking rack in a roasting pan and baked them at 350 for a little over 2 hours. OMGosh! When I cut into that chicken and the aroma of lemon and garlic hit the air? Wowza! It was awesome.

I accompanied the meal with fresh steamed broccoli with mashed potatoes and gravy (Sam’s ready made Yukon Gold Mashed Potatoes and Teay’s Valley Cream gravy made this part of the prep fast and easy.)

Dessert was homemade Gluten Free Bread Pudding with a dollop of French Vanilla Ice Cream. It was pretty heavenly!

Served with a Pinot Noir or my personal favorite, Fré dealcoholized wine, this was a meal fit for royalty. And it really wasn’t that difficult, or expensive, to throw together.

Here’s the recipe for the dessert. Bon Appetit!

Gluten Free Bread Pudding

6-8 slices of stale gluten free bread, cubed 4 eggs 2 cups milk 3 tablespoons Splenda blend brown sugar 1/2 c. Stevia for baking 1/2 tsp. Cinnamon 1/4 tsp. Apple Pie Spice 1 tsp Vanilla 1/2 tsp salt 3-4 big handfuls of raisins About 2/3 c. chopped pecan4 T. butter, melted

Cube bread and place in prepared baking dish. In this case, I used an 8” iron skillet sprayed with Baker’s Joy.

Add raisins and pecans.

Mix the rest of the ingredients and pour over bread. Using a fork, press the cubed bread down into the egg mixture to moisten it thoroughly. Drizzle the melted butter over the top. Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven till the top begins to brown and the filling is springy to the touch. Serve warm with ice cream.

❤️

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” ‭‭Revelation‬ ‭3:20‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Doing the Right Thing

Fri, 29 Dec 2017 02:30:07 -0600

I love doTerra products. I especially love their LifePak vitamins and use them, along with a cannabis ointment to control the crippling plantar-palmar psoriasis I got after Mr. Virgo died. When I purchase these vitamins, I get reward points that I can redeem for free oils or other products. I didn’t realize just how many points I had until a couple of weeks ago. So, I had a grand time ordering bunches of stuff!

I received a notice in the mail just before Christmas that my box had arrived but it wouldn’t fit in the mailbox. I’m not sure why they didn’t deliver it to the door. We were home and could have received it, but it was during the Christmas rush so I am sure the mail carrier was overwhelmed. I went to the Post Office Tuesday and picked up my package. It was like a late Christmas gift to myself!

Yesterday, I received three more boxes. In those boxes were three bottles of shampoo and two more Copaiba oils. I looked back at the emailed order confirmation and I had only ordered one shampoo and one Copaiba, among other things. That is when I also noticed that I didn’t receive one of the items on the original order.

I contacted customer service via the chat app on doTerra’s website. I spoke with Jakob and explained the situation. He said he would be happy to send out the missing item right away and email me a label to ship back the duplicate items. He offered to award me 10 bonus points for my inconvenience. In the course of the conversation, I told him I could have just kept the extras but that wouldn’t have been the honest thing to do. He came back and said he appreciated customers like me and he was going to add 20 bonus points instead of 10! That is free product in my mailbox…all for being nice.

I began this blog five years ago. I have written an essay nearly every day, covering a wide range of topics from my grief at losing Mr. Virgo to camping in the wilderness of Colorado to living on the family farm. I’ve talked about childhood memories, recipes, farm cats, and family. I’ve touched on sensitive subjects like depression, anxiety, sexual abuse, and even came close to the third rail of politics…at least in the sense of trying to get along. I’ve talked about God and my faith and the importance of being good for goodness’ sake. In all that time, I can count on one hand the times I’ve had someone post something negative to me here. Do you know how rare that is in this business? The internet lets the bars down for rudeness because our interactions are not face-to-face. This emboldens some people to bring out the ugly side of humanity.

I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you all…every single one of you. You meet me in this space and we have mutual respect and caring. There have been times when I have considered quitting. There have been times when it has become overwhelming and I have had trouble finding my voice. There are times when I feel perhaps I have said everything there is to say. It got better when I reached the point that I could lay down the burden of my grief and I realized I didn’t have to talk, or write, about it all the time. And, every time I’ve thought of stopping, I get feedback from you. Someone says, “You were speaking to me today.” or “This spoke to my heart this morning.” That’s when I realize…I’m not done. God is still using me to deliver the hope and encouragement only He can give. I ask Him for the words. He gives them to me freely. He will tell me if it’s time to quit.

So, I’ll be here every morning as you have your cup of coffee, or every afternoon when you take a break, or every evening when you stop and catch up with what’s been going on with everyone. I pray you find hope and joy and peace here. I hope you see the goodness in my life comes straight from God and it brings you closer to Him. Your “likes” and your “shares” and your comments bring His word to a greater and greater audience. We all spread Light and Hope and Joy when we share Him with others.

Thank you…for being here, for listening, for loving on me. Thank you for another year’s journey. Thank you for the many, many blessings you bring me. It is an honor to be invited into your hearts and lives every day and I do not take that lightly. Thank you for letting me be…well, ME! I am richly blessed. ❤️

“The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me; to one who orders his way rightly I will show the salvation of God!"” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭50:23‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Hygge = Comfort

Thu, 28 Dec 2017 02:30:42 -0600

Yesterday was a much better day. It still amazes me how quickly things shift for me since losing Mr. Virgo. Yes, it’s been nearly five years since he died. Yes, I am in a wonderful, fulfilling relationship. But am I the same as I was before the loss? No…not by a long shot. Is every aspect of that a bad thing? The loss…yes. The grief has been incredibly difficult. But the peace and personal growth I have grasped between the waves is nothing short of miraculous.

I spent some time at the farm, soaking in the quiet winter sounds. Then came here to a quiet house. Mr. FixIt was off running errands so I curled up on the sofa, wrapped in the warmth of my fur throw made from the coat Mr. Virgo gave me our first married Christmas. The fire was going. The tree was lit. The soft scented candle I got for Christmas filled the air with the sweetness of apples and cinnamon. I asked Alexa to play the Zen Garden station on Amazon Music. The sun outside the window glittered on the new fallen snow. A cardinal sang in the brush next to the house. A cup of tea sat at my side. The freedom and peace was palpable.

Again, in my ever hopeful way, I stared out the window…searching the barren landscape for the beauty of winter. It’s difficult for me. I’m a summer girl. I let my eyes move across the the hill to the road and over to the meadow. I love it here. There’s five acres of flat land out there. I let my mind wander to past dreams. I’ve always wanted a place where I could hold retreats for artists, writers, craftspeople. A place where my Sisters and Girl Camper friends could bring their trailers and circle around a campfire. The big pole building out back is the perfect size for barn sales and dances. I let my eyes move on. There’s a pool between the building and the house. I smiled. Pool parties, family gatherings, barbecues. I have plenty of things to look forward to in the coming months.

I am also reminded of the term “hygge”. Originating in Scandinavia, the term means “simple, cozy pleasures, gratefulness, focusing on a better quality of life, taking pleasure in the presence in the gentle, an appreciation of the simple things in life, soothing things, a practical way of creating sanctuary, a place to restore and revive in the middle of very real life, evoking feelings of comfort” according to a recent article by Jan Zimmer, (Port Huron, Mich.) of the Times Herald. This will be my focus for the coming months. I will embrace the sunshine when it comes. I will listen for the song of the winter birds. I will sample teas and read and commune with my love. And, I will enjoy this end of the pendulum’s swing while I have it. ❤️

“…his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭30:5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Post-Holiday Blues or Just Getting Back to Normal?

Wed, 27 Dec 2017 02:30:21 -0600

Is it the “blues”? Feeling a little depressed after the holidays? Things have you out of sorts? Once the last cookie has been consumed, the last gift unwrapped, the last guest sent off…it can feel like such a let down. Add to that a total disregard for your previously fairly pristine diet and you could be in a sugar crash, gluten-induced, holiday frazzled funk.

That’s where I found myself last night. We had dinner guests. My second cousin and his wife came over to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary with us. I cooked all day…homemade spaghetti sauce, pasta, and apple dumplings for desert. I have been so super cautious for the last two years and have stayed away from gluten. I find I have more energy, my mood is stable, and my gut is much happier when I keep wheat and sugar out of my diet. Then…Christmas happened. A “just this once” became “that went ok, this won’t hurt” and before I knew it…I was OD-ing on a regular basis with bread, cookies, pie, cake. I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldn’t help myself.

I’ve been craving spaghetti all month. The brownies didn’t kill me. The cookies didn’t present too much of an issue. How bad could spaghetti be? Ohhhh, I found out. Spaghetti is about as densely concentrated a source of gluten as you can get and my body finally stood its ground and said , “What the heck do you think you’re doing, lady?! Are you crazy???” My company hadn’t even left before I really began to feel ill…and blue.

It felt like the blues of grief. And, that could be part of it, I’m sure. With the holidays come waves of grief. But I knew I had been pushing the envelope with my wheat and sugar consumption so I did some research. It turns out, according to a study reported in Psychology Today, gluten, wheat, and corn syrup solids can cause anxiety and depression in people with non-celiac gluten sensitivity. Bingo!

When the holidays settle down, we actually return to our normal state and that can feel like the blues. We often feel the same sort of thing when we return to real life from a fabulous vacation. Add gluten sensitivity to the mix and it’s a sure recipe for feeling yucky. It’s time to start back on my clean and green diet again. I’ve never felt…or looked…better than I do when I’m eating right, exercising, drinking plenty of water, and getting enough rest. It’s more than a New Year’s Resolution. It’s a prescription for leading my best life and enjoying it. ❤️

“For day and night your hand was heavy on me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.” And you forgave the guilt of my sin.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭32:4-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Merry Christmas

Mon, 25 Dec 2017 02:30:48 -0600

Wishing you Peace and Love…today and always!

Love, Ginny

Santa IS Real

Sun, 24 Dec 2017 02:30:27 -0600

He held three beautiful children on his lap that afternoon in the mall. Three shining faces, looking up at him in rapt attention, their eyes glittering in awe. He’d done this many times over the years…listening to the repeated requests for dolls, trucks, maybe a baby brother or sister once in awhile. It never got old with him. He was born to be Santa!

As the children got up one by one and gave the jolly man a hug, they smiled into the camera for that “Christmas Card shot” and he sent them on their way with a candy cane and a wave. He looked around and saw the line had finally thinned and he could take a much needed break. That’s when he saw her.

A woman stood alone, a fair distance away, but not so far that he missed her tears. Their eyes met and he held her gaze for a few moments.

“What’s this?” he thought. “Something’s up.”

The cocked his head to the side, and without looking away, he moved slightly to his left in the chair, and patted the seat beside him. The woman looked a little startled, as though she might turn and run. But, he softened his shoulders, softened his eyes, and patted again.

The woman gripped the wad of Kleenex in her hand, took a deep breath, and moved cautiously forward. At first, she sat on the stool at his feet with her eyes cast down. She didn’t say a word. He bent forward and whispered.

“Please, sit here. Come up here where I can talk to you.”

The woman dutifully got up and moved to the seat beside him. He could tell she was visibly distraught and he didn’t want to rush her. There was no one in the line and the mall had hit the mid afternoon slump.

The woman began to whisper and he had to lean in close to hear her.

“I lost my husband.” she said. “I need a new heart.” At this point, she burst into tears. He put his arm around her. He pulled her close in to his side and whispered.

“I am so sorry.” There wasn’t much more he could say to that.

The woman struggled and managed to choke out the words. She had lost her husband to a sudden heart attack as they were standing in a travel trailer, picking out one to take them on adventures in retirement. And then he was just gone. She didn’t know how she was going to live without him. It broke his heart.

After a while, the woman regained her composure and apologized.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I must look a fright!” she said.

“You’re perfect.” he whispered as he handed her another Kleenex and they smiled at each other. She got up to leave.

“Will you have your picture taken with me?” he asked.

“Really? I’d love to.” she replied.

As the “elf” handed her the photo, she looked at it and her lip quivered ever so slightly.

“Thank you for stopping.” he said.

“Thank you for being real.” she whispered back.

It’s been five Christmases since I met my Santa. Every year, I send him my letter, telling him what I’ve done this year…things I’ve accomplished, things I still need to do. And I thank him. For being so kind to a grieving widow suffering through her very first Christmas without her love. Santa writes back and tells me his life was forever changed that day and he is so happy to see me doing better every year.

It’s going to be a big letter this year! I get to tell him about Mr. FixIt and how much bigger my family is now after adding 12 more people to it…including a new great granddaughter! I get to tell him about our travels and how we got to spend time with my Colorado family this year and how much I miss them at Christmas.

I think I taught him a lot that year. I taught him just how difficult it is that first year without your love. The second was probably worse. At least, it was for me. If you are struggling with the loss of your loved one, do be gentle with yourself. This is such a fragile time of year. I’m here to say…with time, prayer, hard work, and perseverance, life can get better again. Joy cometh in the morning, the Bible says. And, it does.

Oh, and just in case you’re wondering…Santa IS real. And…he is my friend. ❤️

Dear Santa…

“May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge.”” ‭‭Ruth‬ ‭2:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Love,

Ginny

The Great Snowy Owl

Wed, 20 Dec 2017 02:30:27 -0600

I love how Facebook can bring folks together that may never meet otherwise. That’s the case of Julie Zickefoose and me. When I was writing posts about the spring bird migration at the farm, a mutual friend “introduced” me to Julie. She is an artist and recently came out with a lovely book called Baby Birds. An artist’s view into the nests of birds in the Appalachian foothills of Ohio.

I was especially intrigued this spring when Julie took in a baby blue jay that had ended up on the ground below the nest and whose parents never showed up. She named her Jemima and taught us all how difficult it is to hand raise a wild baby bird. We watched with fascination as she fed her baby chopped up chicken and meal worms. We held our breath as Jemima learned to fly. We watched with mixed emotions as the fledgling was released into the wild, only to return to the safety of “her tree and feeder” time and again. Jemima is fully grown now but her pin feathers didn’t developed correctly because she was hours away from death by starvation when she arrived so she can’t fly very far till she molts next spring and grows new feathers.

Julie recently returned from a long awaited birding trip to Ecuador. On her way to the airport, she heard about a juvenile Snowy Owl that had made its way from the Arctic to the Mid-Ohio Valley, taking up residence along a creek near the mall in our little burg. Upon her return, she spent all day Monday observing the magnificent bird…and all the people who wanted to get close enough to take pictures. She was interviewed on the evening news and cautioned the public to give the bird space to rest. Here is the link to her story that was on her blog yesterday. It’s very well written and gives you the up close view you crave, but with a telephoto lens. I’ve seen a snowy owl once before. I haven’t gone to see this bird. For one thing, I’ve been under the weather all week. But, more importantly, this bird needs its space and it doesn’t need more people disturbing it. I’ll “see” it the same way you do…through Julie’s eyes. ❤️

http://juliezickefoose.blogspot.com/2017/12/parkersburgs-snowy-owl.html

“You may eat any clean bird. But these you may not eat: the eagle, the vulture, the black vulture, the red kite, the black kite, any kind of falcon, any kind of raven, the horned owl, the screech owl, the gull, any kind of hawk, the little owl, the great owl, the white owl, the desert owl, the osprey, the cormorant, the stork, any kind of heron, the hoopoe and the bat.” ‭‭Deuteronomy‬ ‭14:11-18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Modem of the Mind

Tue, 19 Dec 2017 02:30:33 -0600

I really love living out in the country. It’s peaceful. There’s lots of wildlife. It’s a slower life. I like life slow. I don’t like slow internet, however. Being a writer is a beautiful thing…until I’m standing with my cell phone over my head waving it around like a dead chicken, trying to get just…one…more…bar. It can be maddening.

Many of the images I use in my posts are really large…especially since I got my new iPhone. Great camera equals great pictures. Great pictures equals larger file size. That presents two problems. One, Wordpress only accepts files up to a certain size. Two, internet in the country is powered by two squirrels and a possum! It sometimes takes multiple attempts to get a photo or meme down to an acceptable size. That takes time and patience.

I went to the only office supply store in our little corner of the world and asked what I could do to make our internet work at the far end of the house where I write. We tried a booster. That didn’t work. We tried a repeater. That didn’t work either. Finally, I got the manager and he gave me a lesson in how WiFi works.

WiFi, it turns out, is pretty much like your water system. If you have one faucet in your house, every last bit of water pressure is going to send that water out like Old Faithful. However, if you have every faucet in the house turned on, the dishwasher running, a couple of showers, and someone flushes? You’ll be lucky to get a dribble. When we first got WiFi in our houses, we had a desktop computer, and maybe a laptop. Now we have, in this house alone, two iPhones, an iPad, Alexa, a laptop, two computers and a smart TV. It isn’t any wonder we can’t get everything to run well.

As I was driving home from the store after that enlightening conversation, I thought about how my faith journey can be so much like that WiFi. When it’s just me and God, the signal is loud and clear. I feel His presence. I hear His Holy Spirit in my heart. I connect. But when I start plugging in device after device, my connection gets spotty. I start dropping calls. It is not good to keep God on hold. When I have too many “devices” plugged in, like we all do at the holidays, something has to go. And the first thing that went was my health. I caught a cold. I haven’t had a full fledged cold in a really long time. I mean a knock-you-down-and-drag-your-sorry-butt-to-bed kind of cold. This is that kind of cold, darn it.

The good news is, colds are finite. You’re miserable for a few days and it gets better. I’ll be fine by Christmas. But, it IS a reminder to unplug some of those “devices” and spend some one-on-one time with God so my signal is clearer. ❤️

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” ‭‭Revelation‬ ‭3:20‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Deportment & Etiquette: Useful Skills or Out-of-Date Sexism?

Sun, 17 Dec 2017 02:30:11 -0600

Mr. FixIt and I went Christmas shopping yesterday. As much as I hate to go to Walmart, especially during the holiday shopping frenzy, we went looking for a specific item we weren’t finding elsewhere. When we arrived at the store, I excused myself to the ladies room.

There was a bit of a line, as one might imagine with half the town out and about the weekend before Christmas. The woman in front of me had a full shopping cart of merchandise and a cell phone in her hand. She had the phone on speaker and it was ringing…unanswered. She turned to me and said, “Go ahead…I have to do this.”

In the stall, I overheard the woman leaving a voice mail. I will paraphrase so as to leave the woman unidentifiable.

“Listen, if you insist on hanging up on me in the middle of a conversation…I’ll tell you what. You’re in a nursing home. I just won’t come visit you anymore. How’s that?! Talk to you later, Mommy.”

I was dumbfounded. Who does that? It’s Christmas, for crying out loud. It was more than just being rude to her mother…in a voicemail, mind you. It was being rude, out loud, in a public restroom, where anyone within several feet could overhear. I debated. How should I react? Should I say something? Make eye contact and show my disapproval? Breathe. Breathe. “God, show me what I should do.”

I decided not to say anything. I do not know the whole story. I don’t know if this woman has an issue. Maybe she had a gun? These are the things you think of in 2017. I came out of the stall, made brief eye contact, and said a prayer. “Father God…protect this woman’s mother from the wrath of her child. And bring them both peace and understanding. May they know your love. Amen”

When I was in school, we were taught deportment and etiquette. Every time I put on a coat, I can see the woman on the auditorium stage at Parkersburg High School.

“Grasp the coat by the collar and pull it up and over your right shoulder as you slip your arm in the sleeve. Then, gently reach behind you and slip your left arm into its sleeve. Do NOT swing the coat over your head like a toreador!”

We walked with books on our heads. We learned to sit gracefully without looking like a lumberjack. We learned grace and manners. Yes, please. No, thank you. Yes, ma’am. No, sir. May I? We learned which fork was for salad, which was for dinner and which was for dessert. We learned not to slurp our soup or our tea. We learned to stir the coffee in our cup without making a lot of noise. We learned manners.

This was in the ‘60s and early ‘70s. In our senior year, girls were finally given permission to wear pants to school. And ever so slowly, deportment went out the window with our bras and pencil skirts and Peter Pan collars. There are certain aspects of our “training” that was decidedly sexist. After all, in many ways, we were really being taught how to catch a good man. Good girls acted in a certain way.

This is the year of the woman…2017. Time’s “Person of the Year” is The Silence Breakers…the women of the #metoo movement. Women who have been the victims of sexual harassment, abuse, molestation, rape….many at the hands of powerful and influential men. But, are they really breaking their silence or just…finally, finally, finally being listened to…being heard? We’ve been telling. We’ve been talking. All along, we’ve been talking. And now, people are listening. Is it a perfect thing? No…it’s difficult and ugly and messy. And there are bound to be untruths told. But the majority…the vast majority of the stories told will be true. And far, far too familiar.

Were we trained to be the victims of men? We were told it was better to be seen and not heard. We were taught to keep the peace, don’t rock the boat, be a “good girl”…no matter what. “Boys will be boys.” “Were you drinking?” “Well, look what she was wearing!” Instead, these brave women are saying, “Nothing…NOTHING gives anyone the right to abuse me in anyway. Period.”

I texted my daughter, the high school teacher…my go-to resource when I want to understand the minds of today’s adolescent. I asked her if they teach deportment and manners anymore. She said nothing even remotely close to it. I asked if it was considered sexist. Was there a lack of funding? Was it outdated? Her answer was…outdated. They don’t call it “Home Economics” anymore. It’s “Food Science”, “Cooking”, “Catering”, “Fashion”…all under the title of “Career Technical Education classes.

Ok, I get it. To tell a girl she has to learn to walk straight and tall, to walk in heels, to put her coat on a certain way, may be considered sexist. Especially if young men aren’t being taught the same thing. I get all that. My problem is manners. Common, everyday decency that tells one it isn’t polite to stand in a bathroom at Walmart and threaten your elderly mother who is living in a nursing home. Threatening to stop visiting her if she hangs up on you again. I don’t get that.

There are parents who do a beautiful job raising polite, functional, lovable children who use impeccable manners and they do it without shaming or beating them. I know many of them. But there are so many more who leave it up to an overtaxed educational system to teach their children how to be decent human beings.

I don’t know the answer. Are there any “Emily Posts” left in the world? How do we teach the youth of today that manners are still important? How do we teach respect? I cannot believe that deportment is outdated entirely. It’s not that I am an old fuddy-duddy. I just want the best for our bright and shining future. ❤️

“And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭6:31‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Change

Tue, 12 Dec 2017 02:30:30 -0600

One of the hardest things to deal with since losing Mr. Virgo is…change. And of course, that is the one thing you can absolutely count on in this life. Change. Things change. People change. Situations change. And, unfortunately…places change.

I have to tell you, sometimes you have no way of knowing what God has up His sleeve when He leads you down a certain path. Why this way and not that? Sometimes we never figure it out. Other times, it becomes crystal clear. I love those times. Even when they break my heart.

When I first came to West Virginia, it was just a year and a half after losing Mr. Virgo. I lived on the family farm but only for a few weeks. When my aunt decided she really didn’t want help, I went off on my own for a couple years. I never dreamed I’d have the opportunity to come back and be the caretaker of the home of my heart. When my uncle asked me to take care of the place for him, I jumped at the chance.

I know God has a reason behind every move. There was a plan before I was born. I hadn’t really thought about why I got to live at the farm again. Until yesterday. Mr. FixIt and I have noticed a lot of heavy dump trucks going up the road lately. We heard this summer that they’re putting in a compressor station back beyond the farm so we surmised the work had begun. When we got there yesterday, I drove past the farm and went up the back road. It wasn’t long till we saw the signs. “Road Work Ahead” and “Flagger: Prepare to Stop”.

It’s funny. You hear change is coming. You see what other places look like when they change. Yet, you’re completely unprepared when the change comes and it affects your world. I’m a go-with-the-flow kinda gal, but when I saw them cutting into MY earth, MY world, my HEART…it crushed me. I motioned for the flagger to come over. I asked for details. “What are they doing there?” “How far back are they going?” “How long will this take?” He was a young man. Respectful. He seemed to understand this was hurtful to me. He explained carefully what steps they were taking. I sat and stared till the tears stung my eyes then I had to go.

I remember when they clear cut the back of the farm. I felt like this. But, trees grow back. This is a permanent scar that will never heal. As I sat and watched the big dump trucks back out the ridge to be filled with MY earth, the Holy Spirit whispered to my heart.

“This is why you were given this time on the farm. You are here to memorize every inch of the place. You are here to document the passage. You are here to be a witness.”

Change is inevitable. I know that. I’m doing better with change. I don’t like it. And I especially don’t like them messing with the home of my heart. But, I’m also a realist. I’m pragmatic. There is now going to be a paved road out to the back of this ridge. There will be easier access to the workable land and that will improve the value of the farm. That’s the upside. There’s going to be a lot of sound pollution, increased traffic, as well as some environmental risks. That’s the downside.

I’ve always known my time on the farm is limited. I’ll still be taking care of it for the foreseeable future. And I’ll be saying goodbye to what it once was…one truckload of dirt at a time. ❤️

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It’s That Time of Year

Sun, 10 Dec 2017 02:30:37 -0600

I visit this topic every year. There’s always a big hullaballoo every year about what to say when greeting others around the holidays. It seems like there are just WAY too many perceived offenses surrounding this subject. There are those offended by “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings”. There are some who are not necessarily offended by “Merry Christmas” but who wish to be more inclusive. Sometimes the debate gets heated and we forget what the whole thing is all about in the first place. Love. The kind of love that transcends all other love.

While I was not born Jewish, I lived as a Jew for 27 years. I became Jewish for a number of reasons, but it was NOT to convert because of a marriage. I married a Jewish man, but I considered myself Jewish before I met him. When he joined a medical practice in a small town on the western slope of Colorado, we were faced with a bit of a dilemma. Everything was strictly “Merry Christmas”. Which is fine. I have no problem with that. The Christmas program included Hanukkah songs, which was great. But, it was Hanukkah songs without acknowledging Hanukkah, per se. The other children in the school weren’t taught there was anything else BUT Christmas. They thought Hanukkah was the Jewish Christmas, and it isn’t. It doesn’t have anything to do with Christmas. And, being a stickler for education, I wanted the children to learn about all the winter holidays. I wanted all the children to be included and celebrated. And to do that, it couldn’t just be about ONE holiday…as if that were the only one.

I joined an ad hoc committee on religious sensitivity in the schools. We added books about other winter festivals and holidays to the school and public libraries. We asked for the program to be called the Winter Celebration. We were met with incredible resistance. The mayor of the little town was a former priest. He took great offense at our request. To the point that he hung a banner over the Main Street of town accusing the “heathens of trying to take Christmas away from our kids”. Personally, I really loved that man. He was kind, generous, and worked very hard for our town. He got our local representative involved. It was a real mess. We met with them. We communicated. We pleaded for our children to be included. And, as time passed…they were. We weren’t trying to take anything away from other children. We were trying to expand the scope of the holidays to embrace all children.

I don’t feel any holiday should be diluted. Every faith has its own place in this melting pot of a country. Religious freedom is what this country was founded on. I am a great proponent of inclusivity. In the years since, I have become a Christian. My faith is very important to me. But, I have a memory. And my little girl was ostracized by her peers. She was…to her face…called a “stupid effing Jew” and that is totally unacceptable.

So, here’s my bottom line. I do not care if you say Merry Christmas. I didn’t care when I was Jewish if you said Merry Christmas to me. You were being kind and wishing me well. What’s not to love about that? I, however, will more than likely say “Happy Holidays” to you unless I know for certain that you celebrate Christmas. Because, I am not clairvoyant. Unless you are wearing a Santa suit or elf ears, I’m not going to assume who or what you are. I will respect your human-ness. With a heartfelt holiday greeting.

I love Christmas. And, I love Hanukkah. I am not familiar with Kwanza, but I love that there is such a holiday. For me personally, I love the story of the Nativity, of the birth of the Christ Child. And, I love all of you. I hope this season is full of love, no matter what your faith…or lack thereof. This is a dark time of year, and a dark time of the world in many ways. We all need all the Love and Light we can get…and not just in December! ❤️

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;” ‭‭Lamentations‬ ‭3:22‬ ‭ESV‬‬

It’s Ok to Say...No!

Sat, 09 Dec 2017 02:30:49 -0600

The first year of widowhood, absolutely everything was totally overwhelming. I cried my way through the grocery story. I was filled with angst over making decisions as small as getting my hair cut while I easily went out on a three month trip in my little camper. Work was difficult and I made mistakes. I sat through family holidays literally biting the insides of my cheeks to keep from screaming. It was so hard.

The second year wasn’t much better for me. Worse, in many ways. Mainly because now I was awake and aware and he was still gone. This, however, was the year I learned to say no. In the tiniest of ways. When I felt overwhelmed during the holiday celebrations, I left the room for a break. And no one made a fuss. No one got mad. No one had a hissy fit. As a matter of fact, I’m not really sure they noticed. And that emboldened me to try saying no more often.

This is the fifth Christmas without Mr. Virgo. You would think after this long, and having a new love in my life, I’d have a handle on this whole grief thing, wouldn’t you? But, I don’t always. Take the last month, for instance. My stress level went through the roof. Mr. FixIt and I started fixing up his house. We had his family over for Thanksgiving. I’m just getting to know them and I really want things to be good. We traveled to see some of my relatives over Thanksgiving. Mr. FixIt traveled and I took care of two homes, five cats, cleaning, decorating and rearranging. Then we had pre-op visits and his surgery. I had a huge change in my health insurance and my bill went up. Not something I planned for. I need new brakes on my truck.

I always go see the kids and grands in Colorado at Christmas. I kept putting off buying my tickets because I didn’t know how this surgery would affect Mr. FixIt. I didn’t know how long it would be till he could drive, cook, even dress himself. Everything piled up and my anxiety was through the roof. Finally, I had a talk with my daughter. I explained my situation and before I could even finish, she said, “Mom, it’s ok. You’ve got a lot on your plate and you have to do what you have to do. The kids are big enough now to understand adult stuff happens and things don’t always work out the way you planned. Don’t worry about it…it’s fine. Really.” And…just like that…the weight fell off my shoulders. I hadn’t even realized how tense I’ve been till I let go of that and sighed.

As it turns out, it’s absolutely the right decision. Mr. FixIt’s surgery went well, but there are things we hadn’t thought of that he can’t do alone. Opening his pill bottles. Washing the dishes. Showering and dressing. I know this man. If I’m not watching, he’ll be trying to do things he should NOT be doing. I told my friend, Gail, I wasn’t going to Colorado. She said, “Family is important. But so are new relationships.”

It’s ok to say no. It’s ok to acknowledge your limits. It’s ok to take care of yourself and not feel guilty. It’s ok not to be the perfect mother, grandmother, lover, friend, wife, sister, colleague. It’s ok to not go to that party. It’s ok to turn down that invitation to the ornament exchange party. It’s ok to back out of something you thought you could do, but when the tie came to do it it just felt too overwhelming. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok.

Yesterday Mr. Fixit and I hung out at the house all day in our jammies. We watched movies. We ate good food. I made homemade vegetable beef soup and hot rolls. We didn’t do a darned thing and that was ok. My stress level dropped exponentially after the surgery was over and I knew I didn’t have to scrape together enough money for a plane ticket in a week or two.

The lesson learned here is…there’s really not much that you absolutely HAVE to do surrounding holidays. We have such great expectations and they seldom pan out the way we imagine them anyway. So, why not just give yourself a break and stop trying to create the perfect holiday? Try these things instead…

Practice saying no once in a while.

Make a cup of tea.

Breathe.

Eat a chocolate.

Read a magazine.

Go for a walk.

Take a nap.

Send a card.

Watch your favorite movie.

Take a bubble bath.

Light candles in the evening.

Call a friend.

Draw a picture.

Knit.

Bake cookies.

Watch the snow fall.

Go for a drive.

Donate to charity.

Listen to music.

Get a massage.

Pray.

Self care. It’s not selfish. It doesn’t have to be expensive. Reduce your holiday expectations. Just say…”No…no, thank you. I’d love to another time. Thank you so much for asking but I’m stretched so thin right now, I need to practice some self care.” Be honest. Tell the truth. Just. Say. No.

“Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul.” ‭‭3 John‬ ‭1:2‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Coming Home

Fri, 08 Dec 2017 02:30:04 -0600

I lived in England in 1973 and 1974. My first husband was in the Air Force and stationed over there. When he was transferred stateside to his next duty station, my baby and I flew to West Virginia to spend Christmas with my family. When I flew over to England, I traveled commercial. But when I came home, I flew military transport.

There were several people from the base he was stationed at who were traveling with me. Another mother with her two little ones. Two young Airmen. We traveled for three days before I arrived…exhausted…at my mom’s house. The first day was spent driving in a small VW van to a base up north. The second day was spent waiting…waiting…waiting for a plane to be ready. Once we boarded, we sat on the tarmac for six whole hours before we took off.

My baby was using cloth diapers, and you can well imagine, I was running out of clean ones before I got home to West Virginia. She was also drinking formula that I had to carry with me. She slept all the way across the Atlantic. I however, did not. By the time we began our final descent at Fort Dix, I was becoming really emotional. I cannot properly express how I felt when I looked out the windows of the plane and saw the American flag flying over American soil. I felt so proud…so relieved…so honored…so exhausted.

Yesterday was Pearl Harbor Day. There are fewer and fewer people still living who were there that day or who listened to the radio broadcasts stateside. I know what I felt combing home. I can’t imagine what people who have experienced war must feel when their feel finally touch the soil of “home”. I know it’s a day late, but I would like to honor those who served…and continue to serve. Those who spend the holidays away from their loved ones so that we may enjoy the privileges we have here in this country. Thank you. God bless you and your loved one. ❤️

“Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you."” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭28:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

He Loves Me...”Like That”

Tue, 05 Dec 2017 02:30:03 -0600

It was December 4th, 2013. It had been 267 days since the love of my life died right in front of me. It was 267 largely sleepless nights. I had made myself put one foot in front of the other…day after miserable, lonely day…for 2-6-7 long $&@#%€* days. I was tired. I was broken. But I was trying.

On this day, I went to work. It was normally an hour commute each way, but on this particular day, the skies opened up and snow started falling at an alarming rate. The further west I drove heading home, the deeper the snow became. When I finally pulled up in front of my house, there was nearly 18” of heavy, wet snow in my driveway. I slogged up the drive and got my snow shovel out. You know…the one with MY name on it…not Mr. Virgo’s. He was gone. Two-hundred-sixty-seven days of…gone.

I shoveled for what seemed like hours. I was numb…physically and emotionally. I could hardly make a dent in the snow removal. I barely got my car in off the street when I gave up and went inside. I marched straight to our…MY…bedroom. I stood in front of the picture of Mr. Virgo and yelled at him. I screamed. I cried. I ranted and raved. He had a lot of nerve leaving me like this…with this house and this mess and this…LIFE! I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this. I was just so $&@# tired. I didn’t care if I lived or died, to be perfectly honest.

That was a particularly dark and dreadful season in my life. There were a lot of people who helped me through that. I had support from those who loved me and from complete strangers in several widow’s support groups on Facebook. I’m only active in a couple of them now. I see myself there now as a symbol of hope, having survived the worst of it.

The other day, one of the women in the group said “No one will ever love me like that again”. I couldn’t let her go on thinking that…believing that. I know early on…I couldn’t imagine loving again. If for no other reason than I was sure another loss like that would surely kill me. Then time passed, wounds scarred over, and color started to filter back into my life. I started to think…maybe I COULD do this again. I prayed a lot about it and asked God to place a worthy man right in front of me. And…He did.

I wanted this woman to know…your heart can beat again. You can open it up. You can give and receive love. It’s been almost five years since my world fell apart. And, while this man is so different than my late husband, he loves me “like that”. I feel the same joy true love brings. I feel the same hope, warmth, trust. This one is far more passionate…partially because I’m acutely aware of what I lost and I find this so precious. Which brings me to the biggest difference. Fear. When my husband was alive and I used to have the fleeting thought…”What if he died?” I had absolutely zero understanding of what devastation that loss would bring. Now, I know exactly what that loss brought to me. I still don’t know what losing this man would be like, but I have a $&@# good idea. I try to keep the wolves at bay and live in the moment, but they’re always howling in the woods somewhere.

God did not create in us a spirit of fear but a spirit of power and love and self-control. 2 Timothy 1:7 is one of my go-to verses when I’m feeling weak and out of control. Mr. FixIt is having some reconstruction surgery on his hand Thursday. Even though I worked most of my career in medicine and was married to a physician for two decades, since losing Mr. Virgo, I don’t handle medical situations very well…especially when it involves someone I love. I read 2 Timothy, and asked a friend to come join me at the hospital for coffee and a chance to catch up. I know it’s not a huge invasive surgery, but I know things can happen. This man loves me…”like that”. I will do my very best to support him in whatever comes our way because…I love him “like that”, too. ❤️

“for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.” ‭‭2 Timothy‬ ‭1:7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Making Progress

Mon, 04 Dec 2017 02:30:04 -0600

Mr. FixIt came home yesterday! happy dance Doggone it…we really miss each other when we are apart. I always say, “But, I still need my space. I have to have time to recharge!” And I do. About four days and I’m good. After that, I’m ready to see that happy smile on Mr. FixIt’s face. It is a good thing to miss your love when you’re apart. It means you’ve got it goin’ on, right?

I worked like a little bee while he was gone. I did some rearranging and cleaning and decorating and nested like a woman about to deliver. (Thank God THAT’S not happening anymore!) I didn’t want to post pictures while he was gone because he reads my posts every day (didn’t I say he was sweet?) and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise when he walked in the door. I have to say, the look on his face was worth all the work. I literally finished minutes before he pulled into the drive!

Really, the only room we’ve done any work on has been the family room. Some paint, a new desk and chair, editing what was in there, and adding some of my special things, and it’s a whole new room for very little outlay. There’s more to do, but it’s really lovely now and it reflects US! This picture is the corner where I set up my desk and chair. I love how the desk closes up, hiding any “office clutter”. The raven on the top is an old orchard decoy I bought thirty years ago. The heron lamp belongs to Mr. FixIt. The quilt was a wedding gift to Mr. Virgo and me from a friend. It hung in the breakfast nook at my home in Colorado. The sign on the top says “Once in awhile, in an ordinary life, love gives us a fairytale.” I bought that to put in my camper as a remembrance of the love I had with Mr. Virgo. And now, it’s doing double duty because I get to live another fairytale!

I’ll share bits and pieces of my decorating as we go along but I have to maintain Mr. FixIt’s privacy as well. Bless his heart, he signed on for a heck of a ride when he asked me out for lunch a year or so ago. He’s never said a word about showing up in my posts, but I want to respect his boundaries at the same time.

The house is decorated for Christmas and this week is jam-packed busy with appointments. I hope you are enjoying your early holiday preparations. If you are experiencing your first (or second, or tenth….doesn’t matter) holiday without your loved one and you’re really missing your person, I hope you are practicing good self care. Reach out here if you need extra support. There are a lot of us here who have been through similar losses and we’re here to help as we can. ❤️

“…I found the one my heart loves.” ‭‭Song of Songs‬ ‭3:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Rheostat

Sun, 03 Dec 2017 02:30:28 -0600

When Daughter #2 was born, I had the luxury of being a stay-at-home mom. Her sister, and only sibling, turned sixteen and got her driver’s license just a few months after she was born. So, I had a lot of time on my hands to devote to the baby. I knew this would be my last child so I read all the parenting books and nurtured her learning from the get go. As a matter of fact, I placed headphones on my tummy and played Mozart and Beethoven to her in utero. Yes, I was “one of THOSE” moms.

Daughter #2 was precocious. She could READ the alphabet at seventeen months. She knew the names of all her body parts, by their anatomical terms. She spoke complete sentences early. She was a beast! Fierce. Determined. Focused. I had flash cards on the wall by the changing table. We would talk about what it was and what it meant and how you spell it and how you pronounce it.

Because of all this exposure to knowledge, this baby was powerfully curious. She pointed at everything and wanted to know what it was, how it worked, and what you used it for. One afternoon, I caught her staring intently at something from her high chair. I followed her gaze. She was looking at the dimmer switch. Soon she looked at me and asked “Whassat?” It was her FAVORITE question! She asked it hundreds of times a day.

I explained to her that it was a dimmer switch, but the thing that makes it work is called a rheostat. I took her outside and showed her the electric lines coming into the house. I told her about electricity. And I told her how a rheostat slows down or speeds up the waves in the electricity and that changes the light from dim to bright to dim at will. After that, wherever we went, she demanded to know if our host or hostess had a rheostat. My friends rolled their eyes at me. “Would you let her be a kid, for crying out loud?” I should have, probably. My daughter struggled because the other kids just didn’t “get” her. She had trouble relating to kids her own age. She’s turned out fine…it just wasn’t easy for her.

Life can be like a rheostat. We can turn up the frequency and shine light out into the world. Or we can turn it down and sit in the dark. There’s something really cool about the light, though. Darkness cannot overcome the light. Only light can overcome darkness. Keep shining your light out into the world. Keep the darkness at bay. Constantly tell the enemy he is not welcome here. Show him your light. Tell him Who you get that light from. Send him packing. Remember your rheostat when you feel down…and turn it up! ❤️

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”” ‭‭John‬ ‭8:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

MORE Christmas Memories

Sat, 02 Dec 2017 02:30:56 -0600

I have been on such a nostalgia kick lately! Here’s one I know you all will remember and you probably had (still have!) one of these bad boys. My mom had one that she made in a ceramics class. As a matter of fact, I think I might have made one somewhere along the way. I seem to remember painting on the glaze that puffed up like snow and gluing the little ornaments in the holes. Wow…that’s like opening the top of your head and reaching WAY back in the memory banks!

Mom got to the point where this was the extent of her holiday decorating. When Christmas was over, she dusted off the “tree”, put a dry cleaning bag over it, and took it back upstairs to the attic till the next year. I found it up there after she died. It’s one of the things I saved when I cleared out her house. And, unfortunately, it’s one of the only things that broke during one of my many moves over the years. It made me so sad.

I was rummaging around in the upstairs of the cellar house the other day and ran across one of these in a box up there. I need to get it out and set it up on the dining room table. My aunt used to put it out when she lived there.

I was wandering around the mall yesterday and was thinking of more things we used to get at Christmas. Remember those round bath oil beads? They were jewel-toned, came in about four or five scents, and often were in a tube with a plastic crook on the end to look like a candy cane. You put on in your bath and the hot water would melt the gelatin bead and the oil would come out into the water. Only, who could resist picking it up and playing with it till it completely dissolved???

How about the Easy Bake Oven??? OMGosh! Do you remember how horrible that stuff tasted??? Yet, we ate it! There was Chatty Cathy, Betsy Wetsy, Tiny Tears. I always wanted one but never got one. I did get the bride doll that was as tall as me! And I had a Barbie. My Aunt Marge once traded eggs for a Barbie Doll dress that the neighbor made. I knew that was a big deal for her to do that and I took extra special care of that dress.

How about the socks with the toes in them? Or games like Operation or Chutes and Ladders or Candyland. I remember getting a set of Old Maid cards once.

One year, money must have been really tight. Mom ordered our Christmas presents from a catalog and they didn’t come in time for Christmas. So on Christmas morning, mom gave us each an envelope with the pictures of what we were going to get when the box arrived. But then, when the box did come, Dad found out Mom had charged the items so he made her send them all back. We were so disappointed and to this day, it makes my heart ache for her. She had to have felt horrible that we didn’t get a Christmas.

We moved into the house we grew up in over Christmas break when I was in second grade. The house and furnishings were our Christmas that year. I remember my Grandmother bought me a bedroom set. It was grey, very modern. It had a twin bed and a dresser that had a drop Front that turned into a desk. Grandmother made curtains out of pink fabric with grey poodles on them. There was an old TV console in my bedroom and for some reason, she made a cover for that as well. I even had a black metal trash can with a poodle on it! My brothers room was decorated with a Cincinnati Reds theme. That was a grand Christmas!

I remember when I got old enough to babysit, I would go downtown to Kresge’s and buy Mom a little bottle of Evening in Paris perfume or a chiffon scarf. She always acted as though that was the finest gift a mother could have wished for and it made me so proud. I loved wrapping the presents. As a matter of fact…when we got old enough, she would put our gifts in boxes and I’d wrap my own presents! I wrapped everyone’s presents. It took all day on a Saturday. I’d sit on the floor in front of the TV and use up all the bows and the stickers and the gift tags and have a big time. Then I’d pile everything under the tree. We didn’t have a lot. But we had enough. ❤️

““Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” ‭‭Exodus‬ ‭20:12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Johnny and Punkin Spice

Fri, 01 Dec 2017 02:30:37 -0600

I have this friend. She’s one of those wonderful shining stars that God places on this earth to be a guardian of animals. I am convinced she is an “angel unawares”. I met Aimee through a high school friend. They were talking at a conference once and Aimee told her about this great group of women campers she belonged to called…Sisters on the Fly. Diane couldn’t wait to hook us up. And I am so glad she did. I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with Aimee. As a matter of fact, I believe we have only seen each other in person two or three times. But it’s always “old home week” when we greet each other like long lost friends.

Not only are Aimee and I “Sisters”…we are also fellow West Virginians. And darned proud of it, I might say. Aimee works for the state and created the COOLEST soil trailer. It’s a cargo trailer that she converted on the inside to give you a “worm’s eye view” of what it looks like in the ground. So, she’s an animal activist, she hauls a soil trailer all over the state to teach kids about the earth, she’s a Sister on the Fly, and a farmer, and she creates beautiful art pieces that she sells at some of the big decorator barn sales. On top of that, she’s beautiful, funny, and I just love her to pieces. Because she saved Johnny’s life.

Johnny was a rescue. Terribly ill, he was essentially a lost cause. The vet didn’t think he could possibly live. But Aimee found out about him (I think she’s on speed dial at the animal rescue) and scooped him up. She sat up with Johnny for days, snuggling him in blankets, taking him in for infusions and tests practically every day. He kept getting sicker and sicker. He was a rescue…but he had wriggled into her heart and she couldn’t give up on him. One night, they made a desperate trip to see the vets at the university in Columbus. It took a while, but they finally diagnosed Johnny with a rare disease that affects his joints. If they could just get him through, things would get better for him and he would live a pretty normal life. But there were no guarantees. They pleaded and prayed and now…look at him! He’s so beautiful. All of us fell madly in love with him and Aimee is great at recording his life for his fan base.

This fall, Aimee was driving down the street in her truck when she saw something very tiny in the road. It was a kitten! And there was a man in a truck alongside the road. The kitten was trying desperately to get in the truck but the man just sat and stared at it. Without thinking, Aimee jumped out, stopped traffic, scooped up the kitten, and ran back across the busy highway. She yelled at the man. “Didn’t you see that kitten?” He just shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that.” Oh, he knew alright! He had more than likely dumped that baby right before Aimee drove by. God puts angels right where he needs them, doesn’t He?

This little kitten went to work with Aimee every day as she fostered it. She socialized her and made sure she had all her shots and took extra special care of her in hopes she would forget all about the bad man in the truck. What sent us over the moon was how much Johnny loved his kitty. HIS kitty. Oh…how Johnny LOVES kitties! He would cry and cry until Aimee gave him the kitten. Then she had to sit with him and tell him over and over…”Easy, Johnny. You have to be gentle. Easy. Easy.” Johnny knew, the only way he could have his baby was if he laid down very still…then Aimee would place this tiny little fur ball under this big boxer boy. He laid so still…but his tail pounded the bed like a drum.

Eventually, the kitty found her way to a forever home with a boy to play with. We were all SO worried about Johnny. How would he handle losing his baby? Aimee posted pictures of Johnny with his other kitties. His mommy knows when she has reached the number of animals she can responsibly care for. She did the right thing. And she knows Johnny better than any of us. She knew he would be fine. It’s as if Johnny knew he was only a temporary caregiver for this little baby.

We can learn so much from Johnny. Patience, kindness, caring…unconditional love. He doesn’t care that the kitten isn’t like him. All he knows is…here is someone who needs love and he has love to give.

You never know what kind of stray Aimee will attract next. Right now she is fostering a dog with cancer who is legitimately psychotic. They are trying to figure out how to help her. If anyone can, it’s our divine farm girl…the Dirt Queen. Thank you, Aimee…for having such a huge heart. You are so loved and there are many stars in your crown. ❤️

““But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind. Does not the ear test words as the tongue tastes food? Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?” ‭‭Job‬ ‭12:7-12‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Shift

Wed, 29 Nov 2017 02:30:12 -0600

The earth shifted yesterday. Did you feel it? I did. Mr. FixIt is about halfway through his guy getaway to Florida with his buddy and I’ve been staying at his house…feeding cats, cleaning, decorating, rearranging. It’s been great fun.

For those of you who have been following from the beginning, I downsized and got rid of ninety-five percent of my personal belongings when I sold my house in 2014. I brought those things to West Virginia that I could not part with. A friend has been so kind as to let me store them in his basement all this time. I went over a couple of weeks ago and brought a whole truckload over to Mr. FixIt’s house. The Christmas decorations were all put out so yesterday, I got into the boxes of decorator items. A pink Fenton hurricane lamp, an antique cast iron rabbit doorstop, some quilts, my raven decoy, a sign that says “Kindness Matters”…these found themselves mingled with Mr. FixIt’s memories. Looking at the finished project, they could have all been purchased together for just the same house

I went back into the storage room and lugged the heaviest box to the kitchen. This is where I felt the shift. Do you sense what’s happening here? I’m nesting. The lines of “yours” and “mine” are blurring. Nowhere did I feel this as much as when I opened that heavy box. It was filled with china. Precious cargo that has been carted from one side of the country to the other…never seeing the light of day.

One winter day, what seems like a lifetime ago, Mr. Virgo and I were shopping for a tablecloth. When I caught up with him, he was standing in front of a display of china. He was studying something intently so I followed his gaze. When I saw what he was looking at, I gasped out loud. Royal Doulton’s “Tennyson”. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. And, six months later, I got eight place settings for my birthday. I sat down and cried like a little girl. I’d never had anything so…fine.

Those dishes were packed away in 2014 when I sold my house. Yesterday…I carefully unwrapped each one, inspecting them for chips or cracks. They were perfect. I carefully hand washed and dried each piece and set them out on the dining room table in Mr. FixIt’s house. I thought about how far I have come in the nearly five years since Mr. Virgo died.

Mr. FixIt and I still have an unconventional relationship. He has his place, I am taking care of the family farm. We stay a little here, a little there. We travel, and we stay apart a little. It works for now.

I am so blessed that Mr. FixIt gets me. He’s an angel…tolerant of many things. And he’s thrilled to spend whatever time he can with me. The feelings are mutual. ❤️

“Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain…” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭127:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Stick Tree

Tue, 28 Nov 2017 02:30:45 -0600

You’ve all seen that spindly little Christmas tree Charlie Brown had, right? Basically a stick with some twigs branching off. As far back as I can remember, that was the tree out at the farm. My Uncle Bob was a simple man. When he was told to go cut down a pine tree for Christmas, he did just that. And being a practical man, he brought back one that was easy to carry and would not take long to decorate. He was the smartest of the bunch, turns out.

Grandma didn’t have a lot of ornaments. I remember some of those made by Shiny Bright. There was a very old hand blown Santa that my fat baby fingers accidentally broke one year. sigh And, there was an angel that went on the top of the tree. Her dress was made of vinyl with a net skirt over it. Her upper torso, arms, and head were like a doll made of hard plastic. Her hair was spun glass. And her wings were silver pressed cardboard. Somehow, I managed to acquire that angel. I suppose because I’m the oldest grand daughter and got married first, I don’t know. But that angel has been with me forever. She is too fragile to put on top of a tree…I’m afraid the cardboard tube that slips over a branch might break. So, she gets tucked in a place of prominence on the front of the tree…up high enough to avoid any encounters with two or four-legged children.

We always had a big, fat tree at home that my dad bought at a lot. I remember the excitement of driving around looking at Christmas lights then stopping at the lot to pick out our tree. I wore a woolen coat buttoned up to my neck, someone’s hand-me-down, I’m sure. I had a blue velvet hat that tied under my chin with blue satin ties. And, hanging on one side we’re two white balls made of real rabbit fur. I remember shaking my head back and forth to feel them bounce around. I wore that hat till it literally disintegrated. I wore rubber boots that fit over my shoes and buckles with an elastic string over a button.

Dad would walk us up and down the aisles to choose the perfect tree…i.e. the cheapest without too many holes in it. Once the price was negotiated, an attendant would help Dad carry the tree to the Oldsmobile and strap it to the top with sisal rope. Once we got it home, there was trimming to be done before we could take it in the house. We had strings of lights with big reflectors that went on before screwing the big bulb in. This was a safety feature that kept the needles from touching the hot bulb and catching fire. And many of the ornaments hanging on my tree that I so carefully preserve were placed on those big, fat trees at the house on 55th Street.

I remember feeling so sorry for Grandma and her skinny little Charlie Brown tree. Now I look back and appreciate the simplicity with a fervor. I use an artificial tree now. The first one I’ve had since Mr. Virgo died. I opted for a slender one. I thought I’d be putting it in front of the window at the farm. Instead, it’s over here at Mr. FixIt’s. I never would have dreamed. This is the fifth Christmas without Mr. Virgo. To have found this new love and new joy and renewed zest for life is something I am profoundly grateful for.

It’s the simple things I crave now. Things held by loved ones long gone. Gentle, loving companionship. Soft music. A warm fire. Good food. And a loving God that made all this possible for me. I am richly blessed. ❤️

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭15:13‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Ghosts of Christmas Past

Mon, 27 Nov 2017 02:30:52 -0600

I think this is my all-time favorite Christmas ornament. It’s been in my family as long as I can remember. I have a dozen or so of the smaller ones of the same era but this is the only big one that survived. I can still remember the box it came in. I am always extremely careful with all my ornaments when I store them, but this one especially so. It is so fragile and the paint has been flaking away for years.

There are so many ornaments on this tree that have a story. Baby’s First Christmas. The angel topper from Grandma’s tree. Hand blown glass Santas. A sterling silver tree that was a gift to Mr. Virgo from The Ritz Carlton in 2011. An Old World Santa with the tip of his Christmas tree broken off that Mr. Virgo rescued from the trash at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen. Dozens of coveted hand made ornaments gathered from my friend Judy’s famous Christmas Ornament Exchange Parties. And, the seven Ne’Qua ornaments Mr. Virgo and I bought together on our trips…one for every Christmas we shared.

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I found an e-mail the other day where Mr. Virgo had asked me to get our Christmas decorations and stage them in the living room so we could put up our tree that weekend. We always put on White Christmas and decorated the tree together. The first Christmas after he died, I followed the tradition. I did fine until I got up the next morning and saw what I had done. I can’t tell you how close I came to taking the whole thing down and putting it away. I cried for days. It was brutal. The next Christmas was spent in my friend’s apartment, sitting in the dark, staring out the window as the snow slowly drifted down through the circles of light around the old fashioned street lamps of Marietta, Ohio. It was still brutal.

The next two Christmases were spent with my Colorado family. That was much better. We decorated the tree together and baked a million cookies. It was fun.

Each holiday season is a little easier. Last year, even though we weren’t together, Mr. FixIt and I had started dating and had fallen in love. Holidays were again filled with light and love and joy. Mr. Virgo was still there with us in spirit but the sadness of his absence had abated somewhat. This year, Mr. FixIt and I did the majority of the tree trimming before he left for Florida. I finished up last night. I’m actually glad I had those few hours decorating alone. I turned on Christmas carols. (I can’t figure out how to turn on Mr. FixIt’s DVD player. ?) I held each special ornament in my hands and thought of the person who made it, or where I got it, or who was there when it was used year after year. The Ghosts of Christmas Past paraded through the room and through my mind and heart as I smiled through the tears that stung the back of my eyes as Tony Bennett crooned The Christmas Song.

This is a new life…a different life. Another chance at love. Another gift of making memories. My heart is full to overflowing with the beauty of it all. God has been so good to me…us. ❤️

“A cheerful heart is good medicine…” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭17:22‬ ‭NIV‬‬

O Christmas Tree

Sun, 26 Nov 2017 02:30:10 -0600

Last Christmas, Mr. FixIt and I had just been dating a few weeks and December found us traveling in opposite directions. He went to Florida with his buddy and a few days later, I went to Colorado for a month with my kids. That’s the longest we’ve been apart since our first date and we neither one liked it. That’s when I figured things were pretty serious between us.

Right around Christmas, I was talking to him on the phone, lamenting that I didn’t get to put up a tree and have a Country Christmas at the farm. When I pulled in the driveway upon my return, I stopped in my tracks. While I was gone, this sweet man had decorated the farmhouse for me to come home to. Not only that, but he was standing there in his grey wool trousers, black dress shoes, a white shirt, and a red sweater vest. He looked so sharp and my heart nearly exploded! What a sweet and generous thing for him to do. He also bought me an indoor lighted Christmas tree, but we didn’t put it up because it was almost New Year’s when I got back from my trip. So, this is the first year we have a tree together.

Someone mentioned they wanted to see a picture and someone else wanted to know about the mechanical angel, so I decided to post a video for you this morning. I still have ornaments to put on but didn’t get home till late last night so I’ll decorate more today.

I went to the funeral yesterday. As it turns out, Sis wasn’t just my grandma’s friend and neighbor. We were related…through marriage. I’ve told you before, you can’t throw a stick up this holler without hitting someone I’m related to. I got to see several cousins and met Sis’s son. He’s been my Facebook friend for ages. It’s such a small, small world.

I am so relieved that I can attend a funeral service now without wigging out. My friend’s son was killed in an accident a year or so ago. Another friend took one look at me during the visitation and said, “Let’s go.” She got me out in the air and my heart started beating again. You certainly don’t LIKE going to funerals, but you have to be able to express condolences without flipping out and it took me a while to get there. For the longest time, I seriously felt like I was just one crisis away from losing it altogether. That “one crisis theory” hung over my head like Damocles’ sword which increased my anxiety exponentially. Full blown grief is about as close to flat out crazy as you can get. I didn’t know if “I” would ever come back. Thank God I did. I couldn’t live like that forever.

My sweetie is gone for his annual Florida guy’s trip so I’m spending the week catching up with “back burner” things…stuff I put off because it’s much more fun to go play with my bestest buddy. I need to be pretty productive this week! ❤️

“Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭9:6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

It’s Small Business Saturday

Sat, 25 Nov 2017 02:30:30 -0600

I avoid Black Friday like the plague. There is nothing in this whole wide world I…or anyone I know…need bad enough to risk life and limb for. I know there are great deals. I know the color glossies and TV commercials have been pumping everyone with the next great thing they can’t live without. I’m fortunate in that my kids were raised Jewish. They got a little present every night, then one big one on the last night of Hanukkah. They also had Santa but there was only one really extravagant year that I can remember. My kids and grandkids are frugal. They would much rather have money and go shopping at the after Christmas sales. More bang for their buck!

I have everything I need. I buy myself a plane ticket every year and go see my Colorado family. I don’t want anything I have to take care of or dust. This year, Mr. FixIt and I have decided instead of getting each other presents for Christmas, we’re going to carpet the family room. We’ll get much more enjoyment out of that than any appliance or sweater. And, it’s the gift that keeps on giving! I encourage you to shop small, hometown, mom & pop businesses this year. Big box stores may have better deals on cheaper goods…but they don’t have the vested interest in you personally that a small business owner has. I’ve owned my own business before…I know. This month makes or breaks a small business. Do your best to keep your money local.

I have a funeral to go to today. Sis Strickling passed away. That’s not her first name, nor is this her last name…my family always just called her Sis “Stricklin’”. She was born and raised on the country road a couple miles from the farm. Always sweet and with a smile on her face, my favorite memories of her were at the little one room church house where Grandma went. Sometimes she would come over to the farm for a visit while I was there. She kept her house neat and tidy. After her husband passed away, she went to Ohio to be with her kids. Her memory went at the end and I know it was so hard for her family. I praise God that he gives us an eternal home with no pain, no tears, and no illness. I know her husband and loved ones who went before her met her with open arms.

It took the longest time for me to be able to go to a funeral after Mr. Virgo died. I wasn’t sure I would ever go to another one, but surprisingly…it’s BECAUSE he died that I can go easily now. If I begin to get anxious, I remind myself I am doing this for the loved ones. This has nothing to do with me…it’s all about them. I was so touched by everyone who came to my husband’s funeral. Their presence meant more to me than they will ever know. I remember so few individuals, but I do remember a sea of faces and that equates to a boatload of love. That love helped me through, so that’s why I go to funerals now.

Mr. FixIt and I put up the Christmas tree last night. It’s our first one together. Blending traditions gave us ample opportunities to discuss and compromise. He wanted the tree in the dining room where you could see it from the road. I wanted it in the family room where WE could see it. We compromised by moving furniture around so we could put the tree in front of the picture window in the family room. This way we can see it from the side road coming in AND while we’re sitting in the family room. I’ll put lights in the dining room window so he can see it from the big road. Even through the top branches of the tree were pretty tippy, the mechanical angel HAD to go on top. I managed to wedge the branches around enough to support her and she is beautiful. Melding…it’s what you do when you keep adding to your family. At this point, if we got everyone I’m related to through marriages together, that would be one huge family portrait. I am so, so blessed to add so many branches to my family tree. ❤️

“May the Lord our God be with us as he was with our ancestors; may he never leave us nor forsake us.” ‭‭1 Kings‬ ‭8:57‬ ‭NIV‬‬

And So...It Begins

Fri, 24 Nov 2017 02:30:07 -0600

The other day I found myself with a little time on my hands and stopped at the Blennerhassett Hotel for a Starbucks. The Easter Seal Parade of Trees was on display so I took my coffee and wandered among the holiday decorations, getting inspiration. There were some stunning trees this year. The trees are decorated by volunteers, sponsored by local businesses, and auctioned off to the highest bidder. It’s a wonderful fund raiser for the Easter Seal Society and helps provided needed services for area physically and developmentally disabled children.

I grew up going to the Easter Seal Treatment Center. My big brother was born with cerebral palsy and went to therapy every week. He had physical, occupational, and speech therapy for as long as I can remember. One of my earliest memories was a play table with little doors. You went in and the door shut after you. It was designed to allow children with disabilities to stand up for a period of time. There were toys and puzzles you could play with on the table in front of you, but what really stuck with me was the milk and cookies we got at snack time. Even though I had no need of these services, I was allowed to attend many of the sessions because I totally understood my brother’s speech when others found it difficult.

Mom learned to drive when my brother was first starting therapy so she didn’t have to rely on my dad to get us to school and therapy at the end of the day. I’ll never forget my mom’s friend Elaine trying to teach her to drive. I sat in the back as mom drove around and around City Park. At one point, we ran up an embankment and nearly hit a tree. Mom put her head down on the steering wheel and cried. She kept saying, “I can’t. I can’t do it!” And Elaine would pat her arm and say, “Wanda…you have these kids to take care of. Of course you can do this. Now, let’s try again.”

Elaine was a saint. And…so was my mom. I look back now at what her life was like and I’m in awe of her. I wasn’t always a supportive child and I sure wish she was here now to receive this new appreciation I feel for her.

Christmas is such a special time of year. I love bringing beauty and light into the long, dark nights of winter. We came back last night from our Thanksgiving visit with my family and will work today to get some decorating done before Mr. FixIt leaves for Florida on Saturday. This will be our second Christmas together…my fifth without Mr. Virgo. Bittersweet becomes more and more sweet with time.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! I ate a lot, loved on my family, and took a nap!!! ❤️

“You’ll take afternoon naps without a worry, you’ll enjoy a good night’s sleep.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:24 ‭MSG‬‬

With Gratitude

Thu, 23 Nov 2017 10:36:49 -0600

It’s deer season in West Virginia and I bagged my first deer yesterday. Unfortunately, it was with Mr. FixIt’s 2007 Tundra. There was no stopping and I did exactly what I was supposed to do. I didn’t swerve. I held steady. Fortunately, there’s not much damage to the truck but we will have to replace the bumper. I’ve never hit a deer before. One fell down in front of me once but I drove right over it and it jumped up and ran away. I am grateful we weren’t injured and the damage was minimal.

The other night, Mr. FixIt and I were having dinner and talking about Old Mama Kitty being gone. He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth and asked, “You don’t suppose she wandered into the cellar house when you were in there last week and got trapped, do you?” OMGosh! The look on my face must have been pure horror. He looked at me with such compassion and said, “Don’t worry…we’ll go right back out there and check.” We drove the twenty-two miles and I ran up to the building and checked but she wasn’t there. Im sad she is gone but I’m grateful I didn’t accidentally trap her and keep her from food and water.

We visited my mom’s sister and brother and his wife yesterday. My aunts are having memory issues and my uncle is caring for them. So far they’re holding their own. Actually, the aunt whose dementia is really bad was having a pretty good day. She recognized me and told me she had been worried about me. She put her arm around my neck and pulled me close. She told me she loved me. She waved goodbye with a smile. I am grateful to have made that connection with my aunt.

My uncle regaled us with funny stories all evening…one of which I thought to record. He told the story about the day they rolled the old farmhouse I’m living in down onto the new basement they built. We all laughed. I am grateful for this man’s strength, courage, and sense of humor. Most of all, I’m grateful for his heart…it is full of love!

I am grateful for my Colorado family. They are healthy and happy and enjoying their lives. My brother is doing well. I’ve more than doubled my family since bringing Mr. FixIt into my life. More people to love!

I am grateful to all of you for making a little space in your lives for my words. You all bless me every day. Thank you for indulging me in my stories. May you all be richly blessed.

Happy Thanksgiving! ❤️

“Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name! For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭100:1-5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Little Lies

Wed, 22 Nov 2017 02:30:25 -0600

Is there such a thing as a “little white lie”? I mean, isn’t a lie…a lie? Big or small, untruths between couples erode trust in a relationship. If you have a need to outright lie to your spouse, you might not be with the right person. And what about the sin of omission? Ok, I’ve been guilty of “rounding down a little” when reporting how much I spent on that little black dress I had to have or trying to maintain a secret surrounding a gift. And, if I’m going to be honest here, there have been times in my life when I have not been truthful in a relationship and I’m not married to that person anymore. Which brings up that point again…if you have a need to outright lie to your spouse, you might not be with the right person. I wasn’t way back when. Enough said.

I was thrilled when Mr. Virgo came along. He was a great communicator, which was quite refreshing for me. We told each other everything. We told each other stories. I loved his stories. He worked in 5-Star resorts, hotels, and restaurants around the world. He met fascinating people…celebrities, politicians, dignitaries, kings and queens. His stories were enthralling and he loved telling them as much as I loved hearing them.

Several weeks after Mr. Virgo died, I was going through his personal papers in his dresser and came upon things that shook me up. Things I didn’t know. Things I felt were out of character for the man I knew and loved. Oh, it wasn’t anything like a second family in another state or something of a criminal nature. It was credit cards I didn’t know about. A relationship he had had before me that he never told me about. A business he had lost that had debt I was unaware of. Little things, but little things add up to big things.

I didn’t know how to feel. I felt a little betrayed. I felt a little disappointed. I felt a little angry. It added to the sadness and devastation I was already feeling at his loss. I carried that around for a long time and never told anyone because I didn’t want to besmirch Mr. Virgo’s good name. And you know what happens when you hold things in…they rot and swell and become that abscess you need lanced or your soul will explode.

I’m sure I’m not the only person who went through this. But I’ve never really talked much about it till the other day I met someone going through the same thing I went through and I knew there was a post in there. I knew somewhere out there, there is at least one person who needs to hear how I handled that, so here we are.

When I first stumbled across information that I had not known when Mr. Virgo was alive, I was confused. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking at. Grief brain addles your mind anyway. Add conflicting information and I was stumped. I wrote things down, made notes, compared conversations till I had a pretty good idea what I was looking at. Then I started the process of reconciling that information and asked myself a number of questions.

Does this new information change how you KNOW you feel about him…how you’ve felt about him since the beginning?

For me, the answer was a resounding “No!”

Did he love me? “Yes…more than life itself!”

Why did he not tell me? “He didn’t want to…for whatever reason…and that was his choice to make.”

If I would have known this information before I married him, would I have gone through with the wedding? “Oh, h*** yeah!”

Mr. Virgo is still the same man I knew and loved and grieve for. The only thing that has changed is thought. Yes, there was some debt to contend with that I wasn’t expecting. That is what life insurance policies are for…debt, funeral expenses, and living expenses till you can stand up and breathe again. It wasn’t much, but it helped me get through the messiness. The relationship he had before me that I didn’t know about? Who cares? He married me. The credit cards I didn’t know about? That is still a puzzle, but one I’ve had to let go of. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.

Unless it’s something criminal, or there’s a whole secret family you didn’t know about, my advice is…let it go. Obsessing over things never changes the past. It only sullies the present and tarnishes future memories. They make mistakes…they sin…they’re human. Let it go. I prefer to preserve that special relationship I felt before I rummaged around in the bottom drawer of his dresser. It’s better this way. ❤️

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.” ‭‭2 Timothy‬ ‭2:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

My Accidental Love

Tue, 21 Nov 2017 02:30:28 -0600

Old Mama Kitty is gone. I haven’t seen her in six days. She’s always at the back door, right at supper time. There were a couple of times this summer when she was gone for a day or two, but never six. She’s old. I know that. Just this fall, she seemed to be telling me she was tired. She has one leg that trembles sometimes…and not necessarily because of a chill in the air.

Being a farm cat, Mama is tough. She doesn’t take any guff from the younger boy cats. If they get too close to her feeding dish, she has no problem swatting them away…claws and fangs bared. They give her a wide berth on the front porch, arcing around her, well out of kitty reach with sly glances from the corner of their eyes. She has probably been to the vet once in her life and that was when she was spayed. She’s never been sick that I know of. She will act like she wants you to pet her, then she swats you if you linger too long. She’s one tough kitty.

I thought we’d lost her back in 2014 when I first came to the farm. I walked down to the road to get the mail and coming back, there…by the end of the driveway…was a yellow cat that had been hit by a car. I came up to the house to get my work gloves and a shovel. My aunt was still living on the farm at the time. I went to her and told her I was sorry, but Old Mama Kitty was hit by a car and was gone. I went back down and picked up the cat to take it up by the barn to bury it when…I saw the evidence. This was definitely NOT Old Mama Kitty. This was a boy! I wish I would have had the wherewithal to check that out before I told my aunt.

I had only had one cat in my life before coming to the farm. Ginger was yellow with deep gold stripes. I didn’t seem to be allergic to her as a teenager but the older I got, the more indoor cats bothered me. Ginger went to another home when I moved to England after I was married. Mom hadn’t wanted a cat in the first place. She just tolerated her for me.

I’ve always been more of a dog person. Dogs are easy to understand. Feed them. Throw the ball. Scratch the good places. Go for walks. They will worship the ground you walk on. Dogs have owners. Cats have staff. You are extra special if a cat loves you. It means you’ve met the criteria.

The problem with pets is, unless you own a large bird or a turtle, they are going to die before you. And every time a pet dies, they take more of your heart away. I’ve had to put four dogs down in my lifetime. It kills me.

I don’t want to think of Mama Kitty as “gone”. But, this is what happens with farm animals sometimes. They seem to know when it is their time, I think. I feel a little guilty though. I’ve been away a lot the last couple of weeks helping Mr. FixIt clean and paint his house. I was at the farm every day to feed the cats and spend time with them. Then, six days ago, she just wasn’t there. I called and called and called. It’s sad because I really came to love her. She’s been around forever. She was my Uncle Bob’s cat. He died in 2005. It’s like losing a family member. I know there is still a slim chance she could come back, but I really think it’s time to let her go.

Pope John Paul II stated that animals have souls and are important beings in God’s creation. And, since souls can go to heaven, it isn’t a stretch to picture our pets running and jumping on us when we get there. I hope to see all my fur babies when I get there!

I inherited Old Mama Kitty with the farm. She was my accidental love. And…I’ll really miss her. ❤️

“His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭25:23‬ ‭ESV‬‬

You Never Know

Mon, 20 Nov 2017 02:30:47 -0600

You buy a desk…you need a chair, right? And not just any chair. I wanted an old banker’s chair. I found one on Facebook Marketplace. I went to pick it up Saturday. The woman I spoke with over the phone was lovely. I felt comfortable meeting her to pick up the chair.

The house was back away from the road…the quintessential farm house. White with green shutters, a long covered porch. As soon as I drove up to the house, the garage door opened and I was greeted by a middle-aged woman. I’ll call her June. June directed me to the chair and helped bring it out to the truck. We stood in the driveway and chatted for the longest time. This was her parents’ place, she told me. Her dad died in July and her mom is starting the daunting process of downsizing. I told her my heart is with her in her loss…then I told her about Mr. Virgo. Suddenly her eyes lit up and she said, OMGosh! You write a blog! You’re Marshmallow Ranch!

This always slays me when someone knows me. And I always go through a little mental inventory of my behaviors leading up to the moment of recognition. You never know who you might be talking to. I have a certain self-imposed regulation. I want to always put my best foot forward and exemplify good Christian values. It was wonderful to make June’s acquaintance.

The family dinner party was wonderful. The only mishap was forgetting to take the candied yams out of the oven to serve. The company was delightful. I cooked for three days and I was exhausted when I posted this so I’ll catch up more with you tomorrow. ❤️

“She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.”” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:27-29‬ ‭NIV

Almost Heaven...Homemade Apple Pies!

Sun, 19 Nov 2017 02:30:46 -0600

One of the happiest places in the world for me is a kitchen. I used to bake competitively and had a huge kitchen back then. My last house had a rather small galley kitchen but I still managed to bake several times a week as Mr. Virgo had a sweet tooth. When I sold that house after his death, I lived much of the next three years in my camper. I don’t know if you have ever tried to bake in a camper oven but they are nothing like a home stove. The bottom of everything burned and I gave up trying to bake anything. There is a big country kitchen at the farm, but I traveled so much this last year, I really didn’t cook all that much. I kind of got out of the baking habit.

We’re having our early Thanksgiving dinner with Mr. FixIt’s family today. I actually started cooking Friday evening. I cooked a bag of cranberries and put them in the fridge in a covered container. I have the sweet potatoes parboiled and in the fridge ready to assemble with butter and brown sugar today. The fresh green beans and ham have been cooked and will just need reheated. Yesterday I fried bacon and added chopped pecans and dried cranberries. I parboiled Brussels sprouts and tossed them with the bacon mixture in my huge electric skillet, then put the whole thing in the fridge. I mixed up two pans of dressing…one sage, the other with nuts and cranberries…sealed them with foil and put them in the fridge as well. Then I made two pumpkin pies and two apple pies.

Today I have to bake a 20-pound turkey and a ham, hot rolls, the two pans of dressing, and the sweet potatoes. I’ll heat everything else up and time it all to be ready at 4:00. The table is set. The ice is made. We are expecting thirteen for dinner. I’ve got this!

The family room is finished. It took three coats of Kilz and two coats of Valspar with primer to cover that dark green but we got it done. I didn’t get curtains made in time for dinner, but that will come soon enough. I sat there enjoying the fruits of our labor, listening to soft music in the background as I wrote this. It was very warm yesterday…nearly 70, but rain came in at dusk and it will continue to get colder as the week progresses.

All but the most stubborn of leaves have fallen now, the color all but gone. I have such vivid memories of going out to the farm for Thanksgiving dinners and having it look just like this. It’s funny how our senses take us back so quickly, isn’t it? The sights, sounds, and smells transport me over six decades and brings me so close to my mom and my grandma. I miss them both so much. And I miss my Colorado family. The grandchildren are growing so fast. I always say this, but I wish Colorado and West Virginia were closer. It’s hard when your heart has two homes. ❤️

“She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female servants. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:15-17‬ ‭NIV

It’s Just a Phase

Fri, 17 Nov 2017 02:30:27 -0600

Mr. FixIt and I graduated from the same high school class. Our classmates started gathering once every two or three months for dinner. We are “of an age” where loss is too real and we want to enjoy each other while we can. Last night was just such a gathering…and it was wonderful. There were forty-two of us…our largest gathering yet outside of an actual class reunion.

Being the social butterfly that I am, I went from table to table to visit so I could speak with everyone, at least for a few minutes. Some of these people I’ve known since first grade. They are all Important to me, whether I’ve known them forever or not. Some of my dearest friends were talking about Mr. FixIt and I. One of them mentioned I’m in a new phase. She wasn’t crazy about my “I downsized so you all should too” phase. lol I don’t blame her…I can beat a subject to death sometimes.

We’re having a dozen or so family members over for an early Thanksgiving Sunday. The family room is nearly finished. Another coat of Kilz on the second door then the trim color can go on. A little touch up here and there, then up comes the tape and drop cloths, a good vacuuming, and move the furniture back then I can start cooking.

Yes, this IS a new phase. Not totally uncharted territory. I’ve been in relationships before. I’ve nested and played house and been Susie Homemaker. This time around is different somehow. It’s more deliberate…easing into it, savoring each moment like a fine French wine or an aged Camembert. Feeling the silky smoothness of love and fun and laughter and even the serious moments. I love this phase. Remember how you wanted to stop your kids at three…at least for a while? Three-year-olds are perfect. They have gained some reasoning skills and they are sweet as sugar. That’s how this feels. I want it to just be like this…forever and always. I’m a realist…and a dreamer. ❤️

“The end of a matter is better than its beginning, and patience is better than pride. Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools. Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?” For it is not wise to ask such questions. Wisdom, like an inheritance, is a good thing and benefits those who see the sun.” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭7:8-11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Long Goodbye

Wed, 15 Nov 2017 02:30:40 -0600

I have a longtime friend…I’ll call her Betty. Betty is retired. She was a child and family counselor…and a darned good one. She is kind, gentle, tender in her approach. She was an intuitive therapist. She raised a beautiful family. She had struggles along the way, as we all do. Some of hers were really difficult. But, in the end, she is still with the same loving spouse, and her children are thriving.

Several months ago, Betty contacted me and asked me to go to lunch with her. It was there that she revealed she had been diagnosed with dementia. It was hereditary, she explained. She already saw the signs and was struggling a bit. She wanted to thank me for teaching her to quilt because it has been a favorite pastime for her the last few years. Her legacy is in the quilts she stitched by hand as well as the books she wrote.

Betty’s biggest worry, she told me over lunch, was being a burden to her family and friends. She told me she was going to become more involved in Facebook as a way to stay engaged and interested. She didn’t want to disappear into the shadows of her mind. I encouraged her to write and remain present as long as she could. In true Betty fashion, she turned her Facebook page into a lesson…of love, of courage, of perseverance. She used to send me private messages occasionally. Bringing an article to my attention. Sharing a travel photo. Sharing a memory. Then the private messages stopped. A few days ago, she shared that her dementia was worsening…right on schedule. She doesn’t leave the house much anymore. She realizes how much she is forgetting and she hopes she isn’t boring any of us. I told her this:

We love you. We cannot fully understand what you are going through. But, we can certainly empathize. It must feel like you are leaving on a cruise ship and the people on the shore are getting further and further away till they disappear. But here’s the good news. The land to which you will eventually arrive has streets paved in gold. There will be no more illness and pain. Only love and joy. And when you can no longer feel our hands, turn around and reach for His. He is always waiting for us with arms wide open.

It’s been a long goodbye. And while I will miss her sweet, gentle posts with pictures of “Home”, I know for a fact she is surrounded by people who love her very much. They will support her as best they can. They will guard her and protect her and wish her bon voyage. I do not know where she will go when she gets lost in her mind. But I hope it will be pleasant and not painful for her. Safe travels, my friend. I will see you on the other side. ❤️

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23:1-6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When Things Get Messy

Mon, 13 Nov 2017 02:30:22 -0600

This is the part I hate about home improvement projects…living through the mess till it gets finished. I have done this countless times in my life. You can’t avoid it if you are a homeowner. I did this and then some when my mom died and I prepared to sell her house. She wouldn’t let me do anything to her house when she was living because it meant she would have to throw something away. I completely redid the kitchen and bathroom, painted the whole house, and refinished the hardwood floors…all by myself. It’s ever so much more fun to do a project with someone…especially if you work well together as a team. We took yesterday off, went to church, then out to the farm to feed cats. And today we are back at it.

As I sat down to write this post, a notification came through on my phone. There are nearly a hundred women from Sisters on the Fly down in Port Aransas doing hurricane relief. The very day the hurricane hit, the call went out on the Sisters on the Fly Facebook page. Someone picked up the ball and started The Sister Corps. They immediately started recruiting women to go south to help with the cleanup efforts as they knew help would be needed beyond the immediacy of the storm. The Sister Corps has been posting pictures of the mounds of trash out in front of the houses where they are working. Homes are bare to the studs where drywall must be replaced because of flooding. Bathrooms and kitchens are being replaced. Carpeting and ruined flooring has been ripped out. It makes me look at this room with a whole new vision.

We are freshening this room…not salvaging it. We are making a choice to change outdated colors and carpeting, not replacing everything because of a natural disaster. Again, God humbles me when I get too “uppity” for my own good. This is a joy…a blessing. We are wealthy beyond our wildest dreams. We are rich in love and the bountiful blessings of not one, but two homes to live in. We have the money to buy a few gallons of paint without having to go through insurance adjusters and contractors and estimates to do so. I will look at this project with new eyes today when I am privileged to pick up a paint brush and know I have a comfortable bed to sleep in tonight. I know where my family is sleeping tonight. I know we have food in the pantry and a little money in the bank.

I want to share with you another way God works in my life. The other day, I received notice I needed to make a change in my insurance. I’ve been on the healthcare.gov website and on the phone a few times choosing New coverage. It’s an affordable policy, but still…money I wasn’t necessarily planning on spending. As I looked through the choices, I prayed. “God, show me what I need. I’ll worry about filling out the paperwork…you worry about how I’ll afford what I need.” God always, always provides. You want to know how I know this? Because, yesterday after church, Mr. Fixit and I went to the post office to pick up the mail and there were, not one but…TWO checks in there. Not enough to pay for a full month of insurance. But enough to cover my tithe for the next three months.

This is how God works. He has countless, countless blessings for YOU. They have your name on them…specifically. And he so wants to give them to you. But…he waits for you to ask for them. Don’t come out of the chute asking for those blessings directly, either. Come into the conversation thanking Him for the blessings he has already showered on you. An attitude of gratitude is a fair way to start a prayer when you are asking for more.

Thank you, God…for the unexpected bounty you have blessed me with. I am so grateful. ❤️

“Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the Lord Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.” ‭‭Malachi‬ ‭3:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Sentinels

Sun, 12 Nov 2017 02:30:11 -0600

We survived the first day of painting…barely! It wasn’t a problem working together. That part was awesome! We put on ‘70s music and be-bopped around the living room, dancing and singing and having a grand time making each other laugh. Till we had to move the treadmill out of the corner and into the middle of the room to paint around it. The part you walk on folds up and you pull back on the entire thing to make it stand on two wheels. This allegedly makes it move easier. Well, not so on carpet. I bent down and grabbed the front legs and helped Mr. FixIt move this thing several feet. I’m not sure what happened, but when we set the front end down, it came down like a shot and the handles slammed me in the side of the head so hard it literally knocked me off my feet and sent me flying about six feet. It didn’t hurt as bad as it surprised me. And of course, scared Mr. FixIt to death. I laid there on the floor for a couple minutes to let the bells stop ringing in my head and got up. I’m fine, thank God!

We finished painting the ceiling in time for the kickoff of the WVU game so I left Mr. FixIt to his own devices and headed to the farm to feed the cats. The last couple of years, I’ve been trying to embrace fall and not hate it as the harbinger of winter. I’m trying to embrace winter, too…but, one thing at a time. As I drove across the two-lane, I made myself look at the landscape. In the past I would just feel sadness that the leaves were gone. This time, I asked myself to name something lovely. Suddenly…I saw texture. Where leaves were densely packed in the summer months, bare trees now stand and you can see the ridges and waterways that they line. “Name one thing that’s lovely.” The sycamore. They stand like ghostly sentinels, guardians of the creek banks, their white arms stretched toward the sky. Their limbs are crooked like a gnarly witch’s hand, the last of their dinner-plate sized leaves clinging curled and crispy to the uppermost limbs. Their round, light mustard-brown seed pods dangle like ornaments silhouetted against the sky.

Once I noticed them, I saw sycamores everywhere. They were so beautiful. As I drove back from the farm, the sun was setting and the light turned rose-gold. The trees on the hillside looked like the tips of paintbrushes dipped in yellow and gold, orange and red…only the tippy-top leaves were left. Soon the winter winds will strip all but the most hardy leaves and the twigs and branches will create a mosaic against a thin blue sky. There was a hard freeze last night…a hoar frost still clinging to the frozen grass. As I pulled into the driveway at Mr. FixIt’s house, ten deer were out grazing in the field. I sat there for a while, contemplating. It was a good day. This is a good life. I am healthy, loved, secure…happy. I smiled and went inside to start supper. ❤️

“I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:12-13‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Closet Christian

Sat, 11 Nov 2017 02:30:29 -0600

Sometimes it’s hard to walk the talk. And sometimes it’s even more difficult to talk the walk. I shied away from Christianity for many, many years after being frightened by a little ol’ banty rooster of a man. He was a circuit preacher, all hellfire and brimstone. As an adult, I can appreciate where that style of preaching is coming from and what affect it has on my spirit. But, as a seven-year-old, it literally scared the pee out of me and I ran in the opposite direction. I walked a long journey away from Jesus. I couldn’t be an atheist because I knew God. It was this Jesus guy that gave me fits. I rectified that by becoming Jewish for 27 years. It wasn’t till I was 51 that I became a Christian. And, even then, I was a closet Christian.

I never wanted to be that person. You know, that stereotypical church lady who can’t carry on a conversation without “Praise Jesus” this and “Praise Jesus” that. I’ve since learned you can…and SHOULD…let others know that you are a Christian by the way you act and talk. You can do this without shouting “Hallelujah” in the produce section when the Olathe Sweet Corn arrives. (Although, that actually may be justified!) I took closet Christianity to the extreme though. I was like the Unabomber in my hoodie and shades, being very careful not to expose my true identity. Some of that has fallen away with age. I don’t care as much what people think about me. Mostly it’s a conscious decision.

I had lunch with a dear friend Thursday. We met at Bob Evans…a busy chain restaurant where I can get a good breakfast any time of the day. We hadn’t seen each other for quite some time so there was much catching up to do. We talked about the kids and our new loves. We chatted about our travels and holiday plans. And we talked liberally about God and our faith walk. It was an easy conversation…the kind of comfort you only find with close friends.

After about an hour or so, a woman walked over and placed her hand on my arm. “I overheard you talking about the Lord. Thank you! Isn’t He wonderful?” Yes, yes He is. I appreciated the woman’s gesture. She was a true Believer and wanted to share that moment with me. That was fine, but what meant more to me was this…if SHE, as a Believer, overheard our conversation, then there just might have been someone there who may never have had the opportunity to hear someone praising God over hash browns and scrambled eggs.

Incorporating our love for God into our daily conversations doesn’t have to come in the form of that guy with the sandwich board in front of Taco Bell shouting about the end times. That’s the quickest way to turn people off of any religion, in my humble opinion. I prefer a more organic approach.

Don’t hide your light under a basket. Let it shine! ❤️

“Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:15-16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Brushing Up Against The Past

Fri, 10 Nov 2017 02:30:35 -0600

Today is Veteran’s Day. Every Veteran’s Day, I sent Mr. Virgo a note thanking him for his service. His father was a veteran. His late daughter was a veteran. My dad, my uncle, my first husband, my niece, my late father-in-law…all veterans. Mr. Virgo had military honors at his funeral. I cannot hear taps without feeling a catch in my throat. This time of year brings him closer to the surface.

The other day, one of my dear friends posted a video. In it, she addressed her friends and family. Her nose was red from crying. She sniffled as tears slowly dripped down her cheeks. This is the angelversary week of her husband’s death. It hits her hard every year and even though it’s been eleven years, she relives his final days over and over. It broke my heart. And, of course, it made me think of Mr. Virgo. His was a sudden death. No warning. No long goodbyes. Thankfully, no suffering. I cannot imagine a lingering death. It crushes me.

While I haven’t cried for him in quite some time, that doesn’t mean I never will again. It certainly doesn’t mean I’m through with grief and loss. That’s something that is forever imprinted in the fibers of my being. But I will say this…I don’t let myself “go there” very often. I used to meditate on him. I felt it was necessary to purge myself of as many tears as possible to clean out my heart from this terrible pain. When tears wouldn’t come, I would look at a picture of him in his casket taken at the viewing… white turtleneck, ivory sweater, hair carefully combed, glasses missing from the CPR efforts. I know that sounds absolutely macabre, but somehow I needed that pain to burn itself out or the fire was going to consume me. I knew this without a doubt.

Time and distance has softened Mr. Virgo’s death somehow. It’s like looking at the horizon without my glasses. I see the line…it’s just blurred. If I concentrate, I can bring it back into focus because it’s always there…just beyond where the light spills over. But, something interesting happens when he brushes up against my mind now. When I get close to the memories, I “feel” him instead of “see” him. I mean…literally. While there are some passages in the Bible that allow for a little wiggle room in the idea of “ghosts”, Evangelical Christians believe that we are absent from this place once we die. However, it isn’t far fetched to believe that God may use visions, smells and touch to evoke loving memories of loved ones who have passed.

The other night, Mr. FixIt and I were talking and he said the sweetest thing. He said, “How can we love each other this much?” Immediately, I felt something brush up over my right arm. It surprised me and I sat very still. I looked down at my arm and thought hard. “Do it again.” I whispered in my mind. And there it was…a distinct “touch”…like static electricity on my right forearm. I smiled and looked up at Mr. FixIt. I don’t know how we can love each other this much, but we do.

And…I’ve a feeling someone else approves. ❤️

“We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5:8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

What Have I Done???

Thu, 09 Nov 2017 02:30:08 -0600

OMGosh! I broke my absolute cardinal rule yesterday and…gasp…bought a piece of furniture! I know, I know…you all were with me when I downsized and I absolutely SWORE I would never accumulate “stuff” again. BUT…things are different now. A lot different. I’m not living in a camper, for one thing. For the last three years, my desktop computer has been riding in my camper, under the bed, in an airtight plastic storage tub. There have been numerous times I’ve needed to use it and I have to go out, prop up the bed, haul it out, and put it away when I’m done. Ok, ok…I’m rationalizing. Here’s what happened.

I had to run to town yesterday for an appointment and on my way back to the house, I saw a sign that said “Grand Opening!” It was a consignment store. Who can pass up a good consignment store, right? My truck pulled in, all on its own. I had no choice but to follow. I browsed around and they had some beautiful pieces of furniture. I was first attracted to an old rolltop desk. It was small, and a little beat up. Mr. FixIt has a nice rolltop desk…much nicer than this one. I went on and looked at other things. When I came back around, I asked the clerk about the desk. He said, “You know, if it were me and I had the room, I’d be looking at this one. Much better piece of furniture.” He opened the doors and the drawers and showed me the solid oak construction. The top opens and there’s a place for the monitor, a drawer for the keyboard, and a separate cabinet for the CPU. It is in two pieces to make it easier to transport. The selling point for me was the price. The piece originally sold for $1800. It had been priced for sale in the consignment shop for $500…a decent price for a sold piece of furniture of this quality. However, it was marked down to $250. So, I own a piece of furniture.

That’s two pieces, actually. I also own the jelly cupboard in the kitchen at the farm. Oh, and a recliner. Hmmmmm….I am accumulating. Not excessively, but still. It doesn’t feel as scary to put down some roots as it did in the first few years after Mr. Virgo died. I didn’t want to feel a sense of permanence then. Permanence meant real loss when things headed south. I needed to feel untethered…free. I didn’t have the strength to be needed…even by inanimate objects. As long as it fit in my truck and my camper, I was just fine. And like I said, things are different now. A lot of healing has occurred. Time has passed. A relationship has been established. A home is being created. Two homes, actually.

Mr. FixIt lives exactly twenty-two miles from the farm. He lives on five acres out in the country. He generously shares his space with me. Mi casa es su casa. My house is your house. He is just as comfortable at the farm as I am at his place. And neither of us are giving up our space. We stay a little here, a little there, and then have our own space to retreat to when we need to recharge. It’s the perfect arrangement for the time being. I became very independent after losing Mr. Virgo. While I missed him, certainly…I also came to appreciate the stillness of my own breath. Mr. FixIt and I both like our alone time. Although…truth be told…whenever we are apart, we miss each other terribly. This whole relationship thing is growing on both of us. I suppose, for me, there is still an element of fear deep down inside. That “What if something happened to him” thing. I know I can’t live my life in fear. I won’t. But, there’s something to be said for taking your time in any given situation. After all, there’s no biological time clock ticking here. There’s absolutely nothing to be in a hurry over.

Mr. FixIt and I have been together for a year now. I was thinking about this yesterday. I’m in a really good place now, emotionally. I haven’t had a “bad night” in a really long time. My anxiety level is at an all time low. I’m comfortable in my own skin. I’m happy. I am blessed. And…I am grateful. God has answered so many prayers. I think I’m just going to go along for the ride and enjoy…everything. Life is so sweet! ❤️

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.” ‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:4-10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Getting Cozy

Wed, 08 Nov 2017 02:30:14 -0600

I’ve always loved to sit in front of a nice fire with a cup of tea, a comforter, and a stack of magazines. I haven’t had a stove or fireplace to sit in front of since my youngest was a baby. She’s twenty-seven. We are fortunate to have free gas at the farm so we have a couple ventless gas stoves to ward off the chill in the far reaches of the house. But they don’t look like a wood stove and are situated where sitting near them is impossible. I was delighted when Mr. FixIt showed me his house for the first time. This gas stove sits in the family room and is perfect for getting cozy on a cold, wet November afternoon.

And it’s a good thing we’re getting cozy today because…we are about to embark on the first real test of our relationship. Painting a room together. We picked up an array of paint samples at the hardware store the other day and sat down with them yesterday. Or rather…I did while Mr. FixIt finished up something he was working on. I looked through the color swatches, booklets, and magazines and all I felt was frustration. You can ask Daughter #1…I’m horrible at choosing colors. I have it in my head what I want but putting it down as a plan that makes any sense eludes me. I spent an inordinate amount of time cross-stitching a quilt pattern for one of my BFF’s one year for Christmas. I had it framed and when it was done…well, let’s just say it looked lovely in her downstairs guest bathroom. I have a horrible time matching colors. My daughter, however, can pick out tea towels to match the accent wall in her kitchen six months after painting it. I couldn’t tell you if it was green or yellow. (It was the color of red grapes, actually. I mean, what IS that?) Anyway, I finally found a picture that showed what I was looking for just as Mr. FixIt walked into the room.

“How’s it going, my baby?”

Breathe. Act like you know what you’re doing.

“Great! What do you think of this? We can do three walls in this color, one accent wall in this darker shade, and the trim in white!”

I held my breath.

“I like it!”

Really? That was easy. Listen, this may very well actually BE the world’s most perfect man!

We went to town and bought the paint and some supplies we needed. Now comes the challenge of actually painting…together. I’ll keep you apprised how that goes. In the meantime, I sat here in front of this cozy fire with a Rosemary Chicken in the oven, a definite chill in the air, browsing through a stack of my favorite magazines, a nice cup of tea at hand. Honestly, it doesn’t get much better than that!

Mr. Virgo’s Rosemary Chicken

Pick out a nice, fat roasting hen. Remove giblets and set to simmer for gravy, if you’re into that sort of thing. Personally, I think innards go in the trash, NOT in my gravy. Rinse the chicken, inside and out and place in a baking dish. Wipe the chicken with extra virgin olive oil. Season with fresh ground pepper, salt, rustic herbs, garlic and crushed rosemary. Place uncovered in a preheated 350 degree oven and bake until golden brown…about an hour and a half to two hours. The leg should be squeezable and when a knife is stuck in between the thigh and breast, the juices should run clear. That’s it, easy peasy. Mr. Virgo and I had this every Sunday. I made it for Mr. FixIt last night for the first time and it was a big hit. If you need a quicker meal, prepare chicken thighs in the same manner but bake 30-45 minutes. Bon Appetite! ❤️

“May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭119:76‬ ‭NIV‬‬

He Will Cover You With His Feathers...

Tue, 07 Nov 2017 02:30:26 -0600

Mr. Fixit is doing some cleaning up and updating at his house. We make a really good team working on projects together and he is constantly amazed at the things I can do. I think it really shocked him at first when I did jobs around the farm that may have been labeled “men’s work” in an earlier time. He’ll still watch me do something and shake his head. I usually look at him and say “What?!” He’ll laugh and say, “You amaze me, that’s all. You’re a remarkable woman!” I love that. I love being considered a remarkable woman by a man I greatly admire. It makes me feel both feminine and empowered at the same time.

Somewhere in the midst of moving things around at his house the other day, Mr. Fixit stumbled upon a book called Lists to Live by for Every Married Couple. Even though we aren’t married, we figured since we’re a couple, the book ought to work for us as well. Every evening we sit down and read a few pages and discuss the lists. There are lists of activities to do, things to say, things NOT to say, good habits…you know, common sense things that keep marriages (and couples in relationships) on an even keel as they navigate this journey called life. And even though this isn’t our first rodeo, it’s our first in this particular one, so it doesn’t hurt to read.

I like that these lists have faith-based items on them. Pray for your partner. Tell your partner you are praying for them. Read the Bible. Go to church. Mr. Fixit hadn’t been to church for thirty-five years until I came along. I never pushed him to go. I just told him that’s where I’d be every Sunday morning. And I was. And one day he said he might go with me every once in awhile. Not every week…but, once in a while. I smiled and said I would love that. Again…no pressure. Then came the Sunday he went with me. Easter, I think. When we came out, his eyes were lit up with a fire! He was so excited. He’d never experienced church like this. He had always fallen asleep in church. THIS church grabbed his attention and kept him engaged the entire service. He’s gone with me every Sunday since unless one or the other of us is traveling.

This is something new for me, as well. To have someone want to go to church with me every week. To hold my hand during worship and prayer. Someone to sing with me. A voice I recognize praying next to me. This has become a big part of our bonding experience. There should be three people in every relationship…you, your significant other, and God. If both of you keep God at the top of the triangle and you both strive to climb closer to Him…you cannot help but get closer to each other. It’s simple geometry.

When trouble comes into our life, either in the form of tragedy in the news or something that affects us on a more personal level, we remember that God wraps us in His feathers and we can find refuge there. We needn’t be afraid of the things of the world. I watched the news again last night and saw the follow up stories surrounding the shooting in Texas. I watched the mother, the pastor’s wife, whose fourteen year old daughter was killed. I saw her model grace in the wake of an unspeakable loss. And this verse came to me. What a remarkable example of trust. Of faith. Of absolute assurance she will see her child again. I was in awe.

My heart is with those mourning losses today. My prayer is they will find refuge under His wings. ❤️

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭91:4-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When It’s All Bad News

Mon, 06 Nov 2017 02:30:02 -0600

I watched the news last night and was reminded why I don’t watch the news. The sadness in my gut, the fear in the front of my mind, the sorrow for families of loved ones lost to senseless tragedy is unbearable. The news came through an alert on my cell phone as we left church yesterday. I grabbed Mr. Fixit’s hand and shared. His jaw clenched as he gripped my hand, silently taking it all in. Thinking…no doubt…that it could have been us.

Church. Church is where we’re supposed to feel utterly safe. Yesterday’s tragedy in Texas was the third mass shooting in the last seventeen months…all of which were among the worst in U.S. history, according to USA Today. I don’t know about you, but I look around more these days. I wonder about people I don’t know. I ask myself if they could hurt me…or my loved ones. It’s taxing. I’m feeling the strain of fear. I don’t like this. I don’t like worrying. I don’t like wondering, not IF, but WHEN will it strike close to home?

There is evil loose in this world and we’ve been rocked to sleep…complacent in our busyness. In our rush to beat the clock and get the most out of every day. Lists need to be made and checked off. Appointments need to be scheduled and kept. And the enemy doesn’t give a darn about any of it. He is only here to seek, kill, and destroy. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. He distracts us with the sparklies then swoops in with the spear…or, in this case, an assault rifle.

When bad things happen and you are simultaneously grieving, everything is compounded and spins out of control. It’s difficult to remember there IS control in this world. There IS a winner. There IS a great comforter. When I hear and see reports of things like the shooting yesterday in Texas, I am inclined to feel fear. That fear is from the enemy. However, when I turn to God, He reminds me to put my trust in Him. The enemy whispers…”Ahhhh, yes. But will that bring back the twenty plus lost yesterday? What good is your trust if your God can’t save His people?”

The enemy will not deter my faith. God doesn’t cause these horrific tragedies to occur. It breaks His heart to see his children suffer. What He DOES want is for us to turn to Him for comfort and solace in times of trouble. He wants us to continue to love. We love….because first, He loved us. There will always be senseless tragedies that we can’t explain. But…there will come a day when the things of this world will melt away and we will be freed from the shackles of fear and pain.

I pray for the families of the innocents lost. I pray for the victims of this senseless shooting. I pray for the first responders and the citizens of this very small town in Texas where everyone knew everyone else. I pray for the family and friends of the shooter who may have known something was off…may have tried to get him help…may have never dreamed this could have happened. And I pray for the soul of the shooter. He could not possibly have been in his right mind so I pray for any healthcare workers who may have tried to help him but couldn’t. I pray for the pastor of the church where the shootings occured and for his wife. They were not at the church yesterday…but their fourteen-year-old daughter was one of those killed.

No, I will not roll over…I will not let satan win by becoming consumed with fear and loathing. I will keep my faith in God and let Him sort the rest out. That being said…I will make my feelings about gun safety known to my elected officials. God wants us to turn to Him…but he needs us to suit up and show up and go into battle, too. ❤️

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭56:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I Spy With My Little Eye...

Sat, 04 Nov 2017 01:30:20 -0600

Some very observant readers picked up on something in my picture yesterday. My inbox lit up like a Christmas tree! I didn’t answer the questions directly and suggested they come back today to read my post. I love a little mystery. What was it they saw? A ring…a shiny ring…on my left hand!!! squeeeee

Yes, I have a ring! And in all fairness, so does Mr. FixIt. I gave him his first though. So here’s how it went down, what it means, and how we’re feeling about it.

Early in the year, just a couple months after Mr. FixIt and I started seeing each other, we found out there was something wrong with his blood. The initial thoughts were he had leukemia. Suffice it to say, we were both pretty devastated about it. After all, we just “found” each other again after 45 years. It would be terribly tragic to turn around and lose him, too. He had more tests run and they were worse, so we went for a bone marrow biopsy.

We had been talking about a life long commitment but that’s as far as it had gone. Then the blood thing came up. I wanted some way, some outward sign that would show Mr. FixIt that…no matter what the results of this bone marrow biopsy, I was in this for the long haul. I didn’t want him to worry or be afraid. I happened upon a beautiful gentlemen’s ring and in a moment of impulse, I bought it. We were leaving for the hospital when I pulled out the box and told him I wanted him to know…good or bad…I’m not going anywhere. I thought he was going to cry. He knew I was sticking with him, but the gesture was not lost on him. He asked if this meant we were engaged. Smiling, I said, “Halfway.”

One evening we were going out to dinner with friends and I stopped by Mr. FixIt’s to get ready. I was sitting out front when he came home. He said, “Oh! You’re wearing my favorite dress!” I stood up and twirled around. He had a concerned look on his face and I thought. “Uh-oh. Somethings wrong.” He looked at me and said the dress was missing something. Something sparkly. Then he gave me this beautiful ring!

Here’s where it gets complicated. This is the most personal I’ll ever get about our relationship. I don’t want to get married again. At least, not in the conventional way. I’ve had three husbands. That’s two other women’s quotas. It has nothing to do with how much I love Mr. FixIt…or Mr. Virgo, for that matter. When women of a certain age become widows, they qualify for “widow’s benefits”. If they get married, they lose that. Things don’t work in the widow’s favor in this regard. Therefore, a lot of very long engagements take place in my age bracket. And that’s just fine.

From a faith standpoint, it slays me that women are forced to lose income in order to do what God says to do. Someone said to me…”Well, you aren’t trusting God to provide.” To which my answer is…maybe He already provided. Maybe those widow’s benefits ARE his answer to prayer. The Lord takes care of those who help themselves. To me, it would be crazy to throw away money He had provided.

Long engagements are still in vogue. I will be here for the long haul. The rest is a matter of semantics. So, no…there’s no date set. No fanfare. No hoopla. Just love. Lots and lots of love…always and forever. I’m sure I’ll be talking to God about it when I get to Heaven. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long conversation! ❤️

Edit: He still has an abnormality which they have determined is not leukemia. They still don’t know what it is. We have to repeat the tests in six months. I’m sorry. I was writing this late and missed that piece.

“…..may you ever be intoxicated with her love.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭5:19‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Promise

Fri, 03 Nov 2017 01:30:13 -0600

Three thousand seven hundred sixty-four. That’s how many days came between these two pictures. On the left, the day I married Mr. Virgo. Is it any wonder that handsome man wanted to marry me??? Look at that fresh face, smooth skin, dark hair with just a smattering of gray. Where are the wrinkles around my mouth? Where is all the proof of my sorrow and my joy?

It was a warm spring day stuck smack dab between storms. They shoveled the snow off the balcony so we could get married outside. I had shopped and shopped for the perfect dress, finally finding it on eBay for $45! It was too big so my friend took it in for me. I loved the beads on the silk with hand painted flowers. I thought I looked like a million bucks!

If I had it to do over again, I would have had Mr. Virgo plan the wedding. While it was lovely, it wasn’t until the honeymoon when he reminded me this is what he does for a living. I hadn’t even thought of that. I was just so darned excited to be marrying this great guy, I just barreled through like a bull in a china shop. I asked him why he didn’t say something, and in his sweet, self-deprecating way, he told me, “Sweetheart, it really is all about you. You were having so much fun with it, I just sat back and enjoyed the ride.” I started to ask him what he would have done differently and I know he would have said, “Nothing, baby doll. Not a thing.” Because, that’s the kind of guy he was.

We stood before some seventy-five or so of our family and friends and shared our vows. We promised to always be there. Till death do us part. We had no idea at the time it would only be five years, eleven months, and five days till the unthinkable happened and he was gone.

There is joy on that face on the left. Fresh with the wonder of love and a wedding and music and dancing and cake! Fast forward a decade and look…that face has aged. It has seen indescribable loss. The eyes have shed a river of tears. The hair has a lot of glitter in it. And, there is also joy on that face on the right. Fresh with the wonder of love and music and camping and great barbecue and the handsome man taking my picture….my life companion. The woman on the right is wiser. Older chronologically, but not in her heart. While I lost so much when I lost Mr. Virgo…I ended up gaining in the end. I have a much greater sense of adventure. I’m not so “in the box” as I used to be. I got out from under crushing debt and the weight of long held worldly goods. I figured out what’s really important in life. I’m SO different now than I was then.

I am relieved to be this far down the road of this grief journey. The pictures I have of those weeks, months, years break my heart. I try not to think about the possibilities of having to walk that path again but I’m realistic enough to know it can happen. I know I could survive it again if I had to. But, for now…I think I’ll just hang on and go for the ride. The best is yet to be! I’m becoming a crone! ❤️

“The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭2:18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Free Refills

Tue, 31 Oct 2017 01:30:43 -0600

Sunday’s sermon was amazing, as usual, and I am always compelled to share my impressions. Pastor Justin Enoch of The Warehouse Church delivers a passionate message every Sunday that really speaks to me. I love this church! It’s contemporary, has a great praise team, and speaks to my spirit week after week. As I was driving to church Sunday, I felt this delightful anticipation that made me smile. I’ve never known a church where people are SO excited to attend. They give you “high fives” as you enter and as you leave. They hold up signs in the parking lot that say “So glad you’re here!” and “You can sit with us!” It is a reaching church and welcomes everyone, no matter where they are in their lives. I love that.

“If you only knew…” This was the title of Sunday’s sermon. How many times have you said…”If I only knew then what I know now…”? Pastor Justin used the example of the oil and gas industry. If he had only known about the development that was going to come, he would have thrown everything he had into the pot and bought all this land for pennies on the dollar that has now created so many “Mailbox Millionaires”. We live our lives this way. The enemy feeds on this. He whispers into our lives and makes us fearful of the future, worried about today, and ashamed of the past. If you take up the spoon and eat what you’re being fed, you’ll soon starve to death. Your spirit will be hungry…for what, it has no clue. So you seek to find something that fills you up. Drugs, alcohol, sex, pornography, shopping…anything to fill up that hole in your spirit.

Pastor Justin goes on to ask how many of us love “free refills”. Hands go up all over the sanctuary. We do! We love to have that bottomless cup of coffee at the diner or the unlimited soup and salad at Olive Garden. We want something for nothing. God offers us unlimited, bottomless cup, free refills for all eternity…refills of love. If you only knew how much He loves you. If you were the only person on this earth, He would still have sacrificed His Son for you. That kind of love is unfathomable. You can’t earn it. You can’t buy it. He gives it freely. And when He does, you cannot help but be changed.

There is an East Indian saying that says, “No matter how far you have gone down the wrong path, turn around.” You have to make choices in your faith walk. If you are struggling with addiction, you can’t get clean and play in the same playground you did before. You have to make changes. God offers his love freely, but we have to show up and suit up and play the game. What if you put that passion and drive and love and attention you put into anything that takes you off the right path and turned it towards God? What if, instead of running to the bottle or the needle or the charge card or the relationship, you ran towards Jesus? Whoa. That blew me away.

Free refills…unconditional love, free for the taking. I’ll fill my cup at the well that serves Living Water and my cup will never be empty. I ran into a gal in Harrisville yesterday. I hadn’t seen her in about a year. She looked at me and said, “You look so rested, so peaceful.” I am…for a number of reasons. My cup is filled every day by a living, loving God. I have healthy, happy children and grandchildren. My brother is stable and happy and living a fulfilling life. I live in the country in the home of my heart. And, I’m in love with a wonderful man. I am wealthy beyond all imagination. I may not have a boatload of money…but I’m richer than I have ever been in my entire life.

Twelve years ago today a tall, silver-haired gentleman with piercing blue eyes and a disarming smile walked into my needlework shop in Glenwood Springs and changed my life forever. I am so grateful for that. I am so grateful I had that kind of unconditional love and that I have it again. I am so grateful for this life! My prayer today is that you are richly blessed in your own lives. ❤️

“Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”” ‭‭John‬ ‭4:13-14‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Art of Aging

Sun, 29 Oct 2017 01:30:15 -0600

I sat in the big leather chair yesterday and gazed around this circle of marvelous, beautiful women I have the honor of calling my friends. We all graduated from high school together…could it really be forty-six years ago??? We’re a diverse group. Some were jocks in high school. Some were wallflowers. Actresses. Musicians. Artists. Dancers. Some were heavy into books. Some were heavy into boys. We were shy…and we weren’t. We were scared…and we weren’t. And look at us now. These raven-haired beauties have glitter on their crowns now…whether we choose to show it or not.

What is age but a number and an attitude? I haven’t climbed all these mountains to ignore the view. I worked hard to get up here. I got knocked down a few times. (Haven’t we all?) But, I kept on climbing because the view is pretty magnificent from this side of sixty. I don’t want to be young. I’ve been young. I don’t want to lose the character lines on my face. I’ve had alabaster skin. I don’t want to be skinny. I’ve worried about my tummy for the very last time. What I haven’t been is sixty-five and seventy-eight and ninety-two.

When Mr. Virgo died, I truly thought my life was over. In a way, it was. THAT life was. But I got a new life…whether I wanted it or not. I built it to suit me. Stripping away to the foundation of your soul takes great courage. My mantra every day was a whimper…”Move forward…move forward…move forward.” From a whimper to a whisper to a shout, joy was my carrot on a stick. Did I ever dream I’d find love again? I did at some point. I can guarantee it took a while to get there. Did I ever dream I’d find a love like THIS again? Oh, h*** no! Is it better than what I had with Mr. Virgo? It’s different…as it should be. I wasn’t looking to “replace” my husband. I was looking to enhance my life with joy, and Mr. FixIt brings that and then some.

I don’t want to be anything but what I am because if I lose focus on sixty-four, I’ll miss it. I want to be present with my breath and my heartbeat…my bones and marrow. I want to feel my muscles move as I strive to continually improve them. I want to taste my food. I want to smell sunshine on fresh sheets. No…I don’t want to be young. I want to be me…at every stage. I want to make aging my canvas…my art…my muse. ❤️

“Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained in the way of righteousness.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16:31‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Soup...Nature’s Tranquilizer

Sat, 28 Oct 2017 01:30:02 -0600

It was twenty-seven degrees here at the farm yesterday morning when I sent Mr. FixIt off on a guys trip to North Carolina. This leaves me on my own till Sunday night. I love this man…I truly do. AND, I love my alone time on occasion, so I’m sitting here in the dining room, in front of Grandma’s favorite window, classical music playing softly in the background. It is lovely outside…nearly sixty degrees, sunny, the last of the autumn leaves clinging desperately to the branches like quivering field mice bracing for winter’s chill. It is warm and cozy in this little, old farmhouse and I’m snug as a bug in a rug.

The other day I told you I was making pot roast in the pressure cooker. That night after dinner, I added a can of green beans, a small can of sliced carrots, a can of diced tomatoes, and the leftover potatoes from dinner to the crock pot. When I say “‘crock pot” and “pressure cooker”, I am talking about the same appliance that also is a steamer. When I got rid of most of my belongings and moved into the camper, I didn’t want to be without the conveniences of my kitchen appliances and there wasn’t room for everything. That’s when I ran across this wonderful gizmo that does it all. It’s not very big, but its big enough for two and leftovers aplenty.

I put the soup on and frankly…I forgot all about it till I was heading to bed. I came into the kitchen to lock the back door and noticed it was still cooking. Too hot to put in the fridge, I took the soup…pot and all…out to my truck and set it inside for the night as the temperature got down into the thirties. The next morning, I skimmed off the fat and plugged it back in to have ready for lunch. It was wonderful!

Mr. FixIt was heading into town after lunch to help his ex with something. I sent him off with a container of soup and some crackers for her. Why cater to the needs of an ex-wife? Because…divorce may change a relationship status, but you can still be family. There is Christian loving-kindness to be considered. She is moving this week into her first home of her own. I remember what that was like after my divorce. I wanted her to know she is loved and cared for. It is the same love and kindness extended toward me from my exes’ wives. You can be bitter and angry and full of resentment with a divorce. Or, you can embrace the new member into the family circle. I know that doesn’t work for everyone, but I choose love. I always choose love. ❤️

“We love because he first loved us.” ‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:19‬ ‭NIV‬‬

How Far Have We Really Come?

Fri, 27 Oct 2017 01:30:06 -0600

I have really been getting into nostalgia lately. The other day I shared my Pinterest page of Childhood Memories. When I have a few minutes, I go on and add a few more. It’s interesting how Pinterest works. When you click on something, you soon see more and more pins in that category and it’s been a fun walk down Memory Lane. Some of the memories I could do without, though.

Eventually, I started seeing ads…legitimate ads…that reminded me of a time before “political correctness” became de rigueur. Ads about keeping women in their “place”. Ads about making little girls feel less unacceptable by dressing them in Chubettes. Ads about keeping slim for your man by taking amphetamines or gaining weight if you’re too skinny in order to be more attractive to the opposite sex. It makes my blood boil that generations of women…including my own…were made to feel “less than”. To be objectified…categorized…scrutinized. Ads like this one. I mean, seriously…what is this even about? What are they saying? “Wear these stylin’ kicks and your woman will worship the ground you walk on. As an added bonus, she’ll do it fabric free!”

Finally…finally, finally, finally…these kinds of ads fell out of fashion. It became considered to be in poor taste to openly objectify women. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still happen…it most certainly does as is evidenced by current events being reported. People of power often take advantage of those seen to be beneath them or weaker than they. Hopefully, this is a gut check and might strike a more even balance of power in the future.

I was visiting one of the “widow pages” I frequent on Facebook the other day. The topic of one post was regarding the Hollywood actresses who went back to their abuser in order to get another part. She couldn’t understand how a woman could do that. This smacked dangerously close to blaming the victim so I had to step into the fray and offer my two cents. It IS difficult to understand how a woman could go back to the same circumstances and risk abuse again. That is, until you try to look through her lens. She’s an actress. It’s what she does. She depends on the power brokers of Hollywood to promote her, hire her, give her a break. The power broker knows this. He is emboldened…drunk with his position to make or break the careers of nubile young coeds. She (or he, as the case may be…actors are not exempt to abuse) knows what will happen if she is blackballed in Hollywood. She might as well go back to the Midwest or wherever she came from and get a job, because she or he will never work in Hollywood again. Everyone knows this. They just didn’t talk about it. And, finally…somebody told. The hoopla over it all will die down with the next news cycle but maybe some meaningful change will occur.

We’ve come a long way, to be sure and there’s so much further to go. I understand people’s frustration with “political correctness”…sometimes even I think it can be excessive. But, when I was growing up, it was called being polite, doing the right thing, showing respect. The Golden Rule. Good manners. And there’s nothing wrong with exercising plenty more of that. ❤️

“For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” But if you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another.” ‭‭Galatians‬ ‭5:14-15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Farmhouse Obsession

Thu, 26 Oct 2017 01:30:48 -0600

In 1982, Hubby #2 and I moved into an old brick bungalow that had been the farmhouse before the area around it was developed. It was drafty and poorly insulated. Three quarters of the basement was bare dirt floor. The brick support pillars down there were crumbling and frankly, it was a pretty scary place. But the rest of the house was charming. Dark hardwood floors and built-in storage, tall ceilings and a sun porch, large windows you could fling wide open to catch the cool evening breeze…it was the closest I had come to living in an actual farmhouse since I’d left home at the tender age of twenty.

Hubby #2 was in medical school when we moved into this rental. Even though it was a farmhouse, it was on a very busy street in east Denver. I had a big garden and flower beds everywhere. We grew as much of our own food as we could and I was very much into Mother Earth News. I made our bread, yogurt, granola and tofu. What I couldn’t grow, I bought at the neighborhood farmer’s market. I canned dozens of jars of green beans, pickles, tomatoes, jams and jellies in my huge country kitchen which looked very similar to this one.

I have a total obsession with these porcelain farmhouse sinks. There’s nothing better for canning than one of these babies. The sink was huge and deep…perfect for washing large quantities of fruits and vegetables. A water bath canner could sit right down into the sink for easy filling. And two dishpans fit perfectly side by side for washing and rinsing dishes. My grandma’s farmhouse doesn’t have one of these sinks but I imagine the first one I ever saw was in West Virginia. I run across them every so often here but haven’t found just the right one. The laminate on the countertops in the farm kitchen is lifting and needs to be replaced. I’m thinking if I ever do that, this kind of sink is going in. The plumbing under the sink is getting pretty fragile so when it goes, it’ll be a perfect opportunity to do a little updating. It is, to be sure, just an earthly tent…but the home of my earthly heart.

Speaking of plumbing, remember when I told you about leaving the bath water running and getting distracted by a phone call? I actually ran the well dry and this terrible, black water started coming out of the faucet. I spoke with one of the locals here and he said this hard water gunks up the insides of the pipes just like cholesterol in your arteries. When I let the well run dry, the “spurting” of air and water essentially roto-rootered the plumbing. Before that, the water smelled and tasted awful. Now, while I don’t think I’d drink a glass of it, I can stand to brush my teeth with it…but only after I tested the water. It’s hard, and slightly alkaline, but there’s no lead, pesticides, or bacteria. It’s really amazing the difference in the quality, before and after.

The pot roast from yesterday was wonderful and is in a crockpot for vegetable soup today. It’s cold and rainy and we were expecting our first hard freeze last night. It’s time to get out the jeans and sweaters and boots and jackets. The only thing missing is a fireplace but this old house is all wood and I wouldn’t dare have one. We did change out the stove in the bathroom yesterday with one that has a thermostat. Now it shuts off and on rather than being way too hot or freezing with the manual shutoff.

The fire in Parkersburg is dying down but still has smoldering hotspots. More information is being released about the owners and what they were doing in there. And, more importantly, what they WEREN’T doing…like correcting past environmental and safety violations. The owner, who has at least four other of these warehouses in the area packed with God knows what, is conveniently out of the country at the moment. Fines had been levied against them for these violations to the tune of $80,000…$60,000 of which remains unpaid. They’re still evaluating the air quality results. The first class action lawsuit was filed Monday. And the circus begins. I pray for the first responders and the folks who live nearby and in the path of the smoke cloud, which shifted continually with the direction of the wind. I pray this gets sorted out quickly. I hear Erin Brokovich has been alerted. I hope that helps. ❤️

“For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5:1-5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Comfort Food

Wed, 25 Oct 2017 01:30:26 -0600

Today’s the day…time for the first “comfort food” meal of fall. Mr. FixIt and I have been working at our respective homes a lot the last week or so and haven’t had a day at home for a while. Today is trash day. It’s “install the new bathroom heater because we bought one without a thermostat, oh my gosh, what were we thinking” day. It’s a day to reconnect and play cards and visit. Today is “Pot Roast Day”. I’m pretty sure it’s a national holiday.

I love pot roast. I love a good bone-in pot roast but haven’t seen one of them in a grocery store for years. Mr. Virgo always said the flavor of meat comes from the bone, but everything seems to be boneless anymore. My grandma used to can beef. On Sundays, she’d go get a couple quarts of canned beef, drain it, dredge the chunks of tender meat in seasoned flour and fry it in butter. Makes my swoon to think of it. You could cut it with a knife and it literally melted in your mouth. A nice brown gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, and buttered bread made the BEST Sunday supper ever!

It’s cold today. It was supposed to get down to 32 last night with a high today of only 47. It rained like crazy yesterday and there was graupel associated with it. Graupel occurs when supercooled water droplets freeze onto snowflakes. It looks like tiny hail, but it’s soft. It’s common in Colorado but this is the first time I’ve seen it here in West Virginia. We’ll have snow before we know it. I’m getting there, but I’m not ready yet. The mower and the summer garden tools have been put away and the porches are cleared off. Progress is being made!

I heard a great horned owl last night. Can Halloween be far behind? Have a happy Wednesday, dear ones! ❤️

“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease."” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭8:22‬ ‭ESV‬‬

The Ice Cream Truck...for Adults

Sat, 21 Oct 2017 01:30:23 -0600

I finally broke down and got Amazon Prime. Living out here in the boonies makes shopping difficult sometimes…especially in winter. And, while I try to buy local at every opportunity, there are things that I’m not willing to compromise on like saving money. Prime gives you free two day shipping. It pays for itself quickly. Also, I love the music channel. I can ask Alexis to play “Kari Jobe” or “Contemporary Christian Rock” and she gets right to it.

I’ve told you before but, since downsizing, I’m very careful about what I accumulate. It would be very easy to let things get out of control. If I run across something I think I might need, I jot it down on a list in my iPhone. If I haven’t thought of it in a couple of weeks, I figure I don’t need it and take it off the list. When I get four or five items on the list, I go on Amazon and put them in my cart but I don’t actually buy them. If I haven’t bought them in a week or two, I re-evaluate whether I really need that particular item. Often, my fascination with it wanes or I figure out how to use something I already have.

I placed an order this week and the UPS man backed up my driveway this afternoon. Four boxes arrived and it felt like Christmas! I ordered some probiotics for the best price around. I bought Lisa Mora’s book called Vintage Trailer Style. (I’ve been eyeing it for months. Cute camper ideas.) I ordered a microwaveable corn bag to warm my feet up at night. I have a barley one but cannot find it anywhere. And I bought a small gas stove for the bathroom. You may remember I replaced the stove in there in the spring, but we got the thing hooked up before we realized the stove had no thermostat. I thought we’d get by, but a stove that runs all the time soon has this little house WAY too hot! This new stove is exactly like the other one but with a thermostat. We’ll get that installed this weekend…another winter prep job.

I mowed the yard yesterday. I put the mower away in the barn so hopefully I won’t have to drag it out again this fall. I mulched the leaves into the lawn for extra fertilizer. I covered the air conditioner with heavy plastic for winter. I got the lawn chairs put away in the basement and worked on the back porch. It has become a catch all this summer and it was getting out of control. Still didn’t get the cat beds fixed yet. As I was writing this last night, Old Mama Kitty knocked one of the beds off the table and onto the cement porch floor. It sounded like a bear was getting into a trash can. I jumped and looked out the back door. When I went out, poor Mama came running like she needed me to save her from that big, bad plastic tub. ?

We’re supposed to have good weather this weekend and rain comes Monday. There’s a meteor shower this weekend. Get away from the city lights to someplace dark and enjoy Morher Nature’s fireworks. ❤️

“Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:23‬ ‭NLT‬‬

#UPS, #cleanhouse, #farmlife

Tea Time

Fri, 20 Oct 2017 01:30:02 -0600

I’m a coffee drinker but I can’t have it after about noon or I’ll be counting the spots on the ceiling all night. I can drink tea at night without a problem. Now that the weather is getting cooler, I share tea time with Mr. FixIt every evening. He catches up with the news on his phone. I sit here on the sofa, write my post and schedule it for 4:00 in the morning so you can read it when you have YOUR cuppa.

I always liked tea, even as a young girl. But, I really got into it when I lived in England. I learned to drink it with cream and a side of “digestive biscuits”…England’s counterpart for graham crackers. I bought a Brown Betty while I was there…a sturdy, brown, earthenware teapot that keeps your tea at a proper temperature for quite some time. I was taught to put in a teaspoon of loose leaf tea per cup and add one for the pot. I poured my cream into the pot then fresh, boiling water. I let it steep till it was the color I like and poured it through a strainer to removed the leaves.

I had my first child in the Royal Berkshire Maternity Hospital. My physician was Mr. Stalabrass (certain physicians are referred to as Mr. in Britain, or at least that’s the way it was forty-three years ago.) I had pre-eclampsia and had to be in the hospital for a week before I had the baby. Every afternoon, an aide would take your lunch tray, close the curtains and the door, and settle you in for a nap. Two hours later, she would come back with a warm face cloth and a tea tray…a lovely pot of tea, finger sandwiches, and sweets. It was divine! They should do that everywhere.

I am working double time trying to give this house a deep cleaning before winter sets in. The water here at the farm is hard and has a lot of iron in it. It turns the porcelain dark brown and takes a great deal of elbow grease to get clean. I discovered a wonderful product called Zap. The tub hasn’t been this white since I was a kid and they installed running water in this house. Seriously…it’s probably some horrid chemical, but the bathroom looks great!

I have to tackle the outside next, scrub the porches, and get the kitty beds ready for cold weather. But, first…another spot of tea! ❤️

“Take a lesson from the ants, you lazybones. Learn from their ways and become wise! Though they have no prince or governor or ruler to make them work, they labor hard all summer, gathering food for the winter. But you, lazybones, how long will you sleep? When will you wake up? A little extra sleep, a little more slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest— then poverty will pounce on you like a bandit; scarcity will attack you like an armed robber.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭6:6-11‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I Am Not Alone

Thu, 19 Oct 2017 01:30:16 -0600

Of all the comments I get on my blog posts, by far the most common is “It’s good to know I’m not alone.” When Mr. Virgo died, I felt like the only person on the planet. No one could possibly understand what I was feeling. I didn’t know how to find resources to help me feel better. I didn’t know who to turn to. I tried reading grief books but I couldn’t read. I couldn’t get beyond a sentence or two before my mind exploded. My family and friends were wonderful…don’t get me wrong. But I was sure even they couldn’t really get it because they hadn’t walked this particular path.

I reached out through this page as much for me as I did for you. Maybe more so. And we both found out we’re not alone in this. That was HUGE for me. Knowing others were having the same or similar experiences gave me courage.

I scroll through my files of pictures often for inspiration. Sometimes a particular photo will jump out at me and that’s the one I go with for my next post. Last night, it was this one. Mr. Virgo…big smile, twinkling eyes, and that shock of silver hair…in the afternoon sunshine at Rocky Mountain National Park on a day much like today. We had gone for a drive to view the elk and the bright yellow gold of the aspen leaves quaking in the breeze. It was a perfect day. As I scrolled through the photos and saw this one, two things happened. My heart squeezed for a few seconds. And I smiled. The smile is good. The squeeze in my heart still takes my breath away because it takes me by surprise.

I had a beautiful day yesterday. It was a day much like the one in this picture. The sky was a brilliant cerulean blue. The temperature was reasonable in the high sixties, low seventies. I was with the man that I love. We had a really busy and full day winterizing another of the four campers. Lunch out. A granddaughter’s softball game. A trip to the Piggly Wiggly. A day. Just a normal day in a life. Some would say it was nothing special. I beg to differ…it was.

Why was yesterday special? Because I get to love again. I get to look in another human being’s beautiful eyes and see love in return. Because I get to love…a lot. I get to love both of my ex-husbands and that great cowboy I dated for awhile. I get to love Mr. Virgo. And…I get to love Mr. FixIt. That is so special. I can still love all of them because I stretched my heart and made room

“I am not alone” has taken on a new meaning now. I’ll never take that for granted. ❤️

“fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41:10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

An Act of Forgiveness

Fri, 13 Oct 2017 01:30:14 -0600

Disclaimer: This may be a trigger subject with some. It is dreadfully sad but it touched my heart and I wanted to share with you. It is about the Holocaust and Forgiveness.

Eva Kor was a young child when she and her twin were torn from their family upon arrival at Auschwitz, never to see them again. Under the direction of Dr. Mengele, they were both subjected to medical experiments that nearly killed them. By sheer will, they fought to survive and were liberated by Russian forces.

For fifty years, Eva held on to her position of “victim”…and rightly so. Her life had been forever altered in ways we cannot even begin to comprehend. She is all that is left of her family. As the 50th Anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz approached, she awoke one morning with an idea. What if she could forgive someone. She was often called upon to speak and recalled a Nazi doctor that had been at Auschwitz. She had met him at a conference. She figured he may still be alive so she found his phone number and worked up the courage to call him. I’ll let you watch the video and see how she found it in her heart to forgive the most heinous of acts.

youtu.be/gdgPAetNY…

We speak a lot here about forgiveness. Anger, bitterness, and resentment are the poisons we take hoping they will affect our enemies. Our enemies don’t care if we are eaten alive inside by negative emotions. They are going on with their lives in the nature of enemies…unknowing, uncaring. If my Lord and Savior has forgiven me of my sins, who am I to not do the same? I try to love others as Jesus loves me…even when they are my enemies. Eva’s act of forgiveness took a great deal of strength and courage. She was alienated from other Holocaust survivors for forgiving the Nazis who killed millions of their fellow citizens, friends, and family members. But she didn’t care. She didn’t do it for them. She did it for herself. I am in awe of that kind of heart…that spirit of forgiveness. My petty grievances pale in comparison. ❤️

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:12-15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Magic Hands

Thu, 12 Oct 2017 01:30:38 -0600

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I have always been prompt at getting my mammogram done every single year. I always had it at the same place for consistency. Still, even though it always niggled in the back of my mind that time was slipping by, I went a full three years without one. The fact that I am fairly diligent in doing breast self examination regularly was at least some consolation. But not all lumps and bumps can be felt. An exam and getting the tatas compressed is your best advantage for early detection of breast cancer.

I had my mammogram done September 27th, a Saturday. I was up before dawn to go get this thing done. I was in and out relatively quickly. The technologist was friendly, knowledgeable, and the entire experience left me feeling confident in the Women’s Center at Camden Clark Memorial Hospital in Parkersburg. I left the appointment and met my girlfriends for coffee and it became a day like any other day.

The following Wednesday, I went camping for a week and when I returned, there was a message on my home phone from the doctor’s office. Mr. FixIt and I looked at each other and I saw the slightest flicker of fear in his eyes.

“I’m sure it’s fine, sweetheart. I’m a girl…girls are complicated. We’ve got all these parts we have to maintain. It happens all the time.” I said in my most reassuring voice. But he wasn’t buying it. And neither was I. I’d never been called back before. And I’d never had an ultrasound of my breast.

My doctor’s office made an appointment for me for the following Tuesday…a whole week away. As much as I tried not to think about what it could mean, it was fruitless. I’ve worked in medicine almost my entire working life. I was married to a doctor who was the director of hospice. I was an x-ray tech. I know what I know. I ran through the risk factors. I used to drink more than I should have when I was going through a particularly difficult marriage/divorce but when the divorce was over, so was the drinking. I am not at my ideal weight and I don’t exercise as much as I should. The king sized plus for me is absolutely zero family history of breast cancer. By the time the appointment came around, I was feeling pretty confident this wasn’t cancer.

Tuesday finally came. The technician who came out to get me was the same gal who did the first mammo. That was comforting…and good, in that her technique would be the same for comparison’s sake. She told me there were two places in the breast that caused them concern and she pointed them out to me. She proceeded to do another mammogram. This one used a compression paddle on the machine that squeezed a small, three inch circle…really squeezed. I won’t lie…it stung. No problem holding my breath for that one! When she had the top down views done, she changed the paddle to a five inch circle for the side views. Again, the compression took my breath away, but I wanted good compression so the radiologist could see what he/she was looking for. It was soon done and I was ushered to a waiting room. Once the radiologist said no more views were needed, I was taken to the ultrasound room.

I’ve had ultrasounds many times, but never of my breast. They warm the gel! How nice! I’m laying there with my arm over my head and my boob hanging out in front of someone who was born the year I graduated from high school but, by golly, that gel was warm! The tech turned the screen slightly toward me and I saw what I had seen on the mammogram, only instead of being an oval, clearly encapsulated thing that looked much like a grape…I saw a black hole. My heart sank for a moment. Then my medical expertise came back and I thought about the physics of ultrasound. I soon reasoned what I was looking at was a fluid filled cyst and the vast majority of those are benign. Breathe.

The tech moved to the other spot. This was more worrisome. It was calcification within some very dense breast tissue. I have what used to be called fibrocystic breast disease till they dropped the disease part, because…it isn’t one. It’s extremely common. The last time I had a mammogram, my doctor was musing to herself. “Hmmmm, I wonder why your left breast is so much denser than the right?” “Easy,” I said. “I’ve always been with right handed men” I think she peed a little. Anyway, I digress. I couldn’t make heads nor tails of what I was seeing in this exam area so I just laid back and let my mind wander. What was my gut saying? “This is ok. Don’t worry.”

I was wandering through the mall yesterday, contemplating a pair of shoes, when the doctor’s office called. She said the doctor felt the findings were benign. They wanted to know if there was a family history of breast cancer. Since there is not, the recommendation is to repeat it in six months and if there are no changes, resume the yearly schedule. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath as I sat down on one of the chairs in the shoe department. I thanked her and hung up. Relief spread over me and I immediately texted Mr. FixIt and my Prayer Warriors.

One out of eight women get breast cancer. Unlike Julia Louise Dreyfus…today it was not me. Get your mammograms, girls. Save the tatas! ❤️

“A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭17:22‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Free Spirit

Wed, 11 Oct 2017 01:30:38 -0600

Much of my life was spent trying to conform…to not be too loud, too big, too much. To fit into the mold of who I (and others whose opinions I valued over my own) thought I should be. I was a doctor’s wife. I was supposed to fit in, entertain, volunteer. I converted to Judaism. I smiled, a lot. I had a perky voice. I did the best I could. And still, things unraveled, my marriage fell apart, and it darned near killed me.

It took a long time, and a lot of therapy, to find my voice. So many times women hang their identity on a hook by the front door and become who they need to be…who they’re expected to be. I have two beautiful daughters who are wonderful adults. Honestly, I don’t know how they survived me because I was a hot mess back in the day.

Mr. Virgo was the first man to really “get” me. He was patient and listened intently and fiercely supported me. He helped me see, and really FEEL, my value. When he died suddenly, my world and my self-confidence was rocked. When I was alone on my grief journey in the wilderness and backroads of Colorado in the first few months after he died, I really understood for the first time that it’s up to me to be happy. If we search for happiness from external things, we will always be disappointed.

I had a Mr. Virgo-sized hole in my heart and a God-sized hole in my life. I couldn’t bring Mr. Virgo back, but I could…and DID…reach out to God to fill me up with a peace only He could give. My go-to scripture became “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Over and over, through long anxiety-riddled nights, I repeated it till I believed it…till I felt it in my bones. And magically, God filled in the empty, hurting places with a golden love-light like none I had ever known.

I was telling someone yesterday…I loved Mr. Virgo with the white-hot heat of the sun. But I still never felt whole till I loved GOD with the white-hot heat of HIS Son. My light shines from within. I carry myself differently. I’m happy and content with myself and my life. And now? Now I have Mr. FixIt. I’m so glad he came into my life after I was broken open. I don’t know that we would have appreciated each other if this would have happened at any other time in our lives.

God’s timing is so perfect. ❤️

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭12:6-7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Past the Breaking Point

Tue, 10 Oct 2017 01:30:25 -0600

Filicide. It’s something we don’t want to talk about…something we don’t understand. How could a mother kill her own children? It’s beyond our comprehension. How can someone be pushed so far that they would break like that? It goes against every grain. Yet, it happens.

There was a tragedy in West Virginia last week. A woman shot her two young children, then herself. The little boy was hanging on by a thread last I heard. The little girl and the mom are gone. I just learned last night that not one, but both children have/had special needs. I don’t know what they’re challenges are/were, but I do know what it’s like to grow up in a family with a special needs child. My brother was born with cerebral palsy and mild mental impairment. I will never forget the day the doctor gave Mom the prognosis. They told her he would never live a normal life. He wouldn’t drive or be able to take care of himself or hold a real job. She was devastated. Add to that a troubled marriage and it’s no wonder she suffered from migraines, anxiety, and depression.

About six years ago, I did a short stint as a substitute paraprofessional in a severe needs classroom at the elementary school where my older daughter taught. I couldn’t do it…and I grew up with this. I don’t know how teachers and parents keep from going over the edge. This mother had more than she could handle and she broke.

The news headline said “Let this be a wake up call.” Yes, let’s. There are few people who don’t know anyone affected by a special needs child in their circle…be it church or the hair salon or the bank or a neighbor. If you know someone, and you’ve never offered to help out, do something. A couple hour break could make a world of difference in an overwhelmed parent’s life. Take them a meal. Offer to cut their lawn. Give them a gift card to the grocery. Heck, give them a hug. Tell them, while you can’t understand exactly what they’re going through, you’d like them to know you’re there for whatever help you may be able to give them. Pray with them. Pray FOR them. If you can’t do any of these things, pray for God to open your heart to whatever He would want you to do.

My demographic here is 40-65 year old women mainly, so I guess I’m encouraging grandmas to do what grandmas do best…love on somebody that sorely needs it today. You never know who that outstretched hand may save. We cannot understand how horrible things like this can happen, but perhaps we can change the course by opening our hearts and loving people like Jesus does. ❤️

“Then children were brought to him that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples rebuked the people, but Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” And he laid his hands on them and went away.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭19:13-15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

A Little R&R

Mon, 09 Oct 2017 01:30:27 -0600

We awoke to the sound of rain gently falling on the tin roof yesterday. What a welcome sound. Something else grabbed my attention. It was stuffy and still in the bedroom. I picked up my phone to check the temperature. No wifi. The power was out so the fan was off. This happens frequently here at the farm. I keep thinking I’ll get a generator but haven’t yet.

Old Mama Kitty curled up at my feet while I sat on the porch, watching the rain. Every time we have this moment, I wonder how much longer we’ll have her. She’s about twenty-four years old now. I love this sweet little kitty.

The persistent rain made me sleepy and I couldn’t get motivated to do much. I did put about half the stuff away in the kitchen that I had brought in from TOW-Wanda. The rest of the day was literally spent doing as little as possible. Sometimes you just need a day like that. Mr. FixIt is like the Energizer bunny. He never stops. I like to do a lot of stuff but when I need down time, I NEED down time. I sent him off to deliver a chair to his granddaughter and go bowling and I spent the afternoon/evening laying low. Just what the doctor ordered!

The only downside of having a lay low, shut in kind of day was not going to church. The only upside to that is the Warehouse Church where we attend goes live on their Facebook page every Sunday night at 7:00 so if I can’t go for some reason, I can watch the sermon from home.

Last night, Pastor Justin spoke on getting past your past. I dragged my past behind me like a sack of rotting garbage for years. I played and replayed every mistake, every misstep, every wrongdoing I ever did and berated myself for being a bad daughter, sister, wife, mother. It turns out, those were all lies…whispered into my life by the enemy. He has no power over the future, but man…does he know how to play the past. There are ways you can use the past. Learning from your mistakes and moving forward, letting the past “push” you into the person God has always intended you to be…THAT’S the only useful thing the past can give you. God uses those mistakes you made in the past to allow you to minister to others, to speak life over them, to demonstrate that you do not have to let your past define who you are. You can get past it. Powerful message. So, I got my lay low day, I had a nap under the sounds of a gentle rain on a tin roof, AND I heard a great message from God. What’s not to love about that? ❤️

“Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭3:13-14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Losing Your Sense of Direction

Fri, 06 Oct 2017 01:30:53 -0600

There’s no quicker way to lose your inner compass than through the experience of grief. God built us to numb down so we don’t experience the loss in one gulp. I remember the first year. I was so numb from the neck up. I didn’t fully grasp what had happened to my world until the second year. THAT was the year of pain for me because I “woke up” and he was still gone. I didn’t know where to turn. I literally didn’t know which end was up. I couldn’t make intelligent choices. I couldn’t see further than today…maybe even this hour. It was terribly disconcerting to me to feel so out of control. It was terribly comforting to me when you all started writing back with things like “Yes! That’s me!” and “OMGosh! You’re in my head! How did you know?”

Losing your inner compass is normal in grief. Losing your sense of direction doesn’t just come with the loss of a loved one though. It can come with anything that shocks our sensibilities. And I can’t think of anything more shocking than the events of the last month. While I was out galavanting around, camping here and there, appearing at public events, being interviewed while flyfishing, sitting around the campfire with friends…events were taking place that were shattering our world and I was largely disconnected save for the occasional notification on my phone when I was in cell range.

Disclaimer: I’m not here to discuss politics. There are many, many sites where that is the theme. This is a safe place where we discuss grief and the things that effect it. That being said…I would be remiss if I sail along singing Kumbaya and not address the horrifying events that have hit us over and over and over the last few weeks.

Devastating hurricanes. Deadly earthquakes. Horrific mass murders. Huge breaches of electronic security. Every week…every day…it’s something. Another thing…another horror. It’s hard to feel safe in times like this when you aren’t grieving. Add the insecurity and emotional turmoil of loss to the mix and it’s so easy to lose your way…to lose direction…to lose hope.

Yes, there are political avenues that can and…in my humble opinion…should be implemented to curb events that can be curbed. I am an enigma. I am a diehard liberal Christian and Democrat with a gun. I believe in my right to carry and protect myself, my property, and my loved ones. If I need to hunt to eat, I need a weapon to do so. What I don’t need is an assault rifle, let alone forty-three of them, and I certainly don’t need one that shoots automatically. I might need a couple hundred rounds of ammo. I don’t need ten thousand. I might need some fertilizer for my garden. I don’t need enough to blow up a building. I need to protect my little corner of the world from nefarious interlopers. I’m fully aware not everyone agrees on these issues and I’m not here to debate politics or gun control or any “third rail” issue. This is a faith-based blog so I’m going to approach this from my own personal faith-based perspective.

I usually drive in silence. It’s my think time. But, occasionally I listen to a book on tape or a talk given by someone on a subject I am interested in. As events unfolded over the last month, I found myself getting upset and angry…a perfectly normal reaction to such chaos. Since losing Mr. Virgo, I’ve found it helpful to retreat within myself and become quiet and introspective in order to process additional loss. Now that I have Mr. FixIt in my life, I don’t have long stretches of time to silently contemplate my feelings, process them, and retrieve my bearings. I felt my fear grow and my frustration build to the point of lashing out at him when he did nothing but be kind and love me. I needed to fix that before it became a problem.

God always brings me what I need to walk through this path. Remember me telling you that we have to walk through fire in this life, but God throws gems down in the flames? We may not recognize the meaning of a particular gem, but we tuck it away because somewhere down the line, we’ll understand. When I was in Colorado, I went to a used book store looking for books on tape for the long drives I take traveling with TOW-Wanda. This time I found several presentations by such notables as Brené Brown, Pema Chodrin, and Joyce Meyers. I tucked them in the truck but didn’t listen to them on the trip home because Mr. FixIt was with me.

Last week I traveled up to Beaver Creek State Park and found the four hour block of time to listen to Pema Chodrin’s “Don’t Bite the Hook: Finding Freedom from Anger, Resentment, and Other Destructive Emotions”. Her basic premise boils down to finding compassion for the perpetrator. She spends the better part of three and a half hours explaining how to fight the addiction of anger and replace it with patience and compassion. Anger sits in the pit of our stomach. It’s uncomfortable and we lash out to release those pent up feelings. But, what if we allow ourselves to sit with that discomfort, recognize it as a temporary feeling, look at the person pissing us off and feel compassion? If that’s too hard, then at least just say…“OK, this person is pissing me off. I’m not biting that hook.” There is a difference between suppressing anger and diffusing it. Suppression will just place it in a pressure cooker and it becomes self-destructive. Diffusing it dissipates the energy and converts it into something self-soothing.

How does this relate to the current events in the world? Well, environmentally, these storms are getting more powerful, more frequent, and more destructive. As an environmentalist, one can get angry at politicians who refuse to believe in climate change. As one who believes this is a predictable cycle of nature, one can get angry at the “tree huggers” for leading the charge with “the sky is falling!” Earthquakes? Environmentalists are angry with the oil and gas industry for fracking and causing instability beneath the earths crust. Others are angry at such rhetoric saying the earth’s crust moves…deal with it. Mass shootings? The NRA will give you their guns when you pry them out of their cold, dead fingers as Charlton Heston so eloquently put it. Gun control advocates are angry that this just keeps happening over and over and over and nothing ever changes.

The common denominator in all of this is anger. Righteous indignation. Me against them. No one ever resolves conflict with increased conflict. The divisive nature prevalent in today’s world does nothing to diffuse anger. As a matter of fact, it seems its only point is to produce more anger and conflict. This is the work of the enemy. This is where my faith comes in. This battle has been fought for centuries and my personal belief is…the good guy wins in the end. My personal belief is…that which lives within me is more powerful than that which lives in the world. Lashing out at Mr. FixIt because I’m harboring anger over world events is counterproductive. So, how do I resolve that inner conflict? Through compassion.

How do we live out the compassion of Christ in such a dark time in this world? Turning to the Master Teacher, we can cry out for Him to teach us compassion. We can read about the ways Christ showed compassion to others…even his enemies. He touched those who were sick. Even the outcast…the untouchables with leprosy. He sought them out and ministered to them and healed them with just a touch. Race, religion, social or economic status…nothing kept Christ from touching the lives of others with love and tenderness. We can read about Jesus’ tears for the fallen. How He wept for those who refused to hear His teachings. How he asked His Heavenly Father to forgive those who crucified Him for they knew not what they were doing. That in and of itself is the ultimate display of compassion. The motivation behind all of Christ’s teachings throughout the New Testament is love and compassion.

So, how do you show compassion for someone who stands in a hotel room on the 32nd floor of a busy hotel and calmly executes 59 innocent people, wounds nearly 500, and changes the lives of thousand more…forever? For me, it comes from the realization that one does not do something like that unless they are not in their right mind. There is such evil in the world. Satan whispers into the lives and hearts of vulnerable people and leads them to do unimaginable, unspeakable things. My response is to pour out more love…to try to tip the scales of the world toward goodness and light. Not with a Pollyannaesque naïveté, but with the pure, genuine love and compassion expemplified by Jesus.

It’s a scary world. I saw Mr. FixIt’s first little greatgrandchild this week. I held this tiny, perfect little human in my hands and prayed hard that God would keep her safe in this great big place. It hits hard when a new life is placed in your hands. In the end, the left wing and the right wing belong to the same bird. We really are in this together. There is one race…the human race…and if we want to keep going, we are going to have to find a way to come together, to get along.

Ok, we went to church there…but, in my humble opinion…this world needs more light. For me, it is through Christ, who strengthens me. For others, it may be different. But by whatever means available, the answer to everything is love and compassion. ❤️

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:12-14‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Two-Lane Blacktop

Wed, 27 Sep 2017 01:30:54 -0600

Yesterday was errand day. Up at dawn, I ran through my list of very important things that needed to be done for the camping trip I’m leaving on today. And, not surprisingly, there were a couple of things I forgot. Mr. FixIt to the rescue! Yet another of the many wonderful advantages of dating this good man! He stopped on his way to my place and picked my items up at the market.

Driving back home on the two-lane blacktop, I always let my mind run through the points of note along the route. There’s the State Police barracks where I took (and failed) my first driving exam. (Not my fault, mind you…there was a hole in the muffler.) There’s the county line where I got carsick when I was seven. (I have no idea why that sticks with me, but it does.) There’s the last bridge of its kind between town and the farm. (It’s a lot like the old bridge that used to be where you turn onto the country lane to drive the last few miles to the house.) There’s the old country store where we stopped for ice cream on Sunday afternoons on our way back to town. There’s the turn where I had my wreck in February. My mind takes me through every turn and hill, reliving days long gone.

One of my favorite turns brings me to a straight stretch that passes the old Nutter Farm. There’s a family cemetery on the hill across the road. Every time I drive through that stretch, I get the strangest feeling. It’s akin to the feeling you get when someone hugs you. I didn’t get to meet the particular set of great-grandparents that are buried there, but somehow I feel them when I drive by. It’s a little eerie, but comforting at the same time. My great-grandfather died in his early 30’s of a ruptured appendix and left my great-grandmother with four little boys to raise. Charlie and Sabina. I have always loved her name. Folks called her “Binie”, with a long “i”. I never knew her proper name till after my last child was born or I might have named her Sabina Rose.

I know every turn, every pothole, every hill on that road. It stretches for miles all the way back as far as I can remember. I really get John Denver’s lyrics. “Country Roads, take me home to the place I belong…West Virginia!” I love coming home when I’ve been gone a while. When you’re there every day, you don’t notice how the house smells. But when you return from a long trip, it’s truly like stepping back in time to my childhood. It smells like old wood…damp and rich. It smells like old books and worn leather…slightly stale, dusty, and tired. It smells like iron skillets and well water. But it smells like family. It smells like home. I bought a scented candle when I first moved in last year and was decidedly dismayed when all you could smell when you walked in the back door was cinnamon apples. I stopped burning it right away and was ever so relieved when the familiar aromas returned a week or two later.

I count every day here as a blessing…a gift that God has brought me. This place almost seems like my reward for having lost my sweet husband. As though God said, “You’ve suffered enough. Let the memories in these walls comfort you for a time.” I know it’s not forever…one day the house will pass from one to another and I’ll need to move on. Or, more likely, there will be that point in my life when I choose to live elsewhere. But for now…for this brief time…I will live and love and laugh in the home of my heart. And I’ll remember every nook and cranny, every squeak in the floor, every line in the worn linoleum. I’ll remember every bend in the road. ❤️

“My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭32:18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I Need This Mug!

Tue, 26 Sep 2017 02:55:32 -0600

I think I finally got a handle on my possum problem here at the farm. I have been fiddling around with the cats’ feeding schedule and did some research online. I started feeding them once a day and unless they search me out asking for something in the evening, that’s all they get. By noon they aren’t eating anything anyway so I pick up their dishes and set them inside a galvanized bucket with a locking lid. Bingo! No more late night visits from a passel of possums!

I think this is the week to bring in the hummingbird feeders. We need to encourage them to move along before it gets too cold. We have two really hot days coming then the weather turns cool. We have so many leaves falling. This year they seem to have just turned brown and fallen off. Not a lot of color in my woods.

The grass is still growing. The lawn will need mowing again soon. The days are getting shorter and there is less and less light in this old holler. I changed the light up high on the barn yesterday in preparation for long, dark winter evenings. The dogwoods are full of red berries. It’s a beautiful time of year.

My talk last night was well received. They gave me a mum for my yard. I’ll cherish that. Today is prep day for tomorrow’s trip up to the campground. I think this is the last hurrah for the camping season. Always a sad thing.

Tell me about the leaves where you are! ❤️

“And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years,” ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭1:14‬ ‭NIV‬

Tethered to God

Mon, 25 Sep 2017 01:55:16 -0600

A ship that slips its moorings is quickly swept to sea. At the mercy of the wind and the waves, it may sink to the briny depths, never to be seen again. Our relationship with God is much the same way. If we remain tethered to Him, we can weather any storm, but…let go and all bets are off. HE never lets go of us. It is always the other way around.

Mr. FixIt and I have been attending the 5:00pm service at our church. It gives us all day on Sunday to enjoy the farm, then head to town about 4:00. He bowls on Sundays at 7:00 so it works out to be a good time for us. Last night’s sermon was on the detours life gives us. There are two types of detours. The kind we take ourselves on when we become untethered from God and the kind God takes us on.

We are so egocentric, we think God is punishing us if we can see what He intends to give us, but he takes us the long way around instead. These trials weren’t necessarily orchestrated by God. He has a much bigger world view than we do. His grand view takes us through these trials so that we CAN have the reward He has in mind for us…even if it’s not delivered in this world. Our job is to hang on and remain tethered to Him. He is our anchor.

We all have trials in this world. God uses those trials. Not as punishment. But as a way to hone us into the person He intends us to be. Suffering produces perseverance. Perseverance, character. And character, hope.

I have a speaking engagement this evening at a local church. I’m really looking forward to that and always pray God brings me every opportunity to praise Him and share with others how He has blessed me.

Have a Happy Monday! ❤️

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭5:1-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

When Things Don't Go As Planned

Fri, 22 Sep 2017 01:55:46 -0600

The first two of our three day getaway was perfect. The weather was moderate. We hiked, fished, lazed around, read, cooked, and sat out long after dark watching the boats go up and down the river. We had to go into town Wednesday to salvage some doors, windows, and light fixtures out of a structure that’s being torn down today. It was hot, dirty work and by 2:00, we were done. We ran some errands then headed to a restaurant for lunch. We’ve eaten salads there before but I was hungry so I ordered a chicken salad wrap and fries. We left to head back up to the river to the campground and within 10 minutes, I was sick as a dog. The thing that scared me was my heart was doing weird things and I felt faint. Mr. FixIt took me to the hospital. They kept me overnight for observation and did a ton of tests. They finally decided they thought I had food poisoning. I got home from the hospital yesterday and unhooked the camper and went to bed.

There comes a point when you have to realize…even though you may FEEL 24…when you’re 64…you ARE 64! That’s not “old” by any stretch of the imagination. But for the first time in a long time…I feel my age. I have to slow down just a little bit. Not enough to stop. But enough to take care of myself.

Not the way I wanted my little getaway to go. But I need to listen to my body and not keep pushing so hard. Today, I mattress surf! ❤️

“Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body.” ‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭6:19-20‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Time Out!

Mon, 18 Sep 2017 01:55:48 -0600

Last weekend was four days of fun (and hard work) hostessing the Sisters on the Fly. This weekend was four days of meet and greet at Country Living Fair with the Girl Campers. When I came back to town late yesterday afternoon, really…the only thing I wanted to do was go home, take a hot bath, and go to bed. Instead, I went to the 7:00 service at my church. I missed last week. I couldn’t miss again.

I stopped at Starbucks yesterday morning for a GOOD cup of coffee. Hotel coffee is marginal. As I left, a young man was sitting on a bench outside the door. He said, “Excuse me. Can I ask you something?” I stopped, knowing what was coming. “I just got out of prison and I want to go to church today. Can you give me something?” He was clean. He didn’t look strung out. He looked like the son of any of my friends. I walked up to him, placed my hand on his shoulder and said, “Son, I can give you two things. I can give you one dollar. And I can pray with you.” He looked like he was about to cry and knelt his head. I prayed for him right there on the streets of downtown Columbus in front of Starbucks. Afterwards, he smiled and thanked me and I went on my way.

I can’t give much but I can give my time, my prayers, my heart. So what if I got to the fairgrounds ten minutes late? Sharing that moment with that young man might have made a huge difference in his life. Surprisingly, it made a huge difference in mine. It made me bolder in my faith. It made me more compassionate of others. It made me love on a fellow human being for a few moments. It set the tone for the rest of the day at the fair. When I received praise for my accomplishments, I put praise where the praise was due and told them it wasn’t me…it was God that brings me words.

With that, I will be honest and tell you I am truly tired. I’m totally talked out after four days of nonstop talking. Mr. FixIt has been so wonderful and picked up the slack for me the last couple of weeks. He’s worked hard and helped me load and haul and unload stuff for my events only to turn around and help me take it all back home and put it away. We are packing up this morning and going camping for three days. It’s his turn to get my attention. It’s my turn to take a time out. I’ll be back soon! ❤️

“But when you pray, go away by yourself, shut the door behind you, and pray to your Father in private. Then your Father, who sees everything, will reward you.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:6‬ ‭NLT‬‬

My Lot in Life

Sat, 16 Sep 2017 01:55:20 -0600

For those of you who’ve been following me for awhile, you remember what a struggle it was to downsize when I sold my house. Getting rid of 95% of my personal belongings just a year after losing Mr. Virgo was very stressful. I have been so careful not to accumulate “stuff” again. But, I’ve got to tell ya…this Country Living Fair is exceptional. I think this is my third in a row and it seems each one gets better. I will have to say, there were a lot more people here on opening day than the last two years. If that’s any indication of the overall attendance, we’re in for a whale of an event!

When you work a Fair such as this, you try to have enough people helping that you can take breaks and wander around. As I was walking over to the main stage for Janine’s talk yesterday, I spied some windmill vanes and stopped after to price them. The one in this photo was a half vane for $600! One with two less fins was $400. Still way out of my price range. My daughter’s sister-in-law has one she got from the family ranch and has it mounted on the wall in her dining room. I’d love to have one, but A) I’m not spending that kind of money and B) I don’t have anyplace to put it right now, and C) experiences before stuff. I could have a really great trip for $600.

Wandering the aisles of the fair is so tempting. I will tell you what I bought yesterday. A nice serving of Miss Parolee’s Kentucky Deep-Dish Blackberry Cobbler warmed up with a scoop of Vanilla Ice Cream. Windmill vane. Miss Parolee’s cobbler. I think I made the better choice! ❤️

“Even so, I have noticed one thing, at least, that is good. It is good for people to eat, drink, and enjoy their work under the sun during the short life God has given them, and to accept their lot in life. And it is a good thing to receive wealth from God and the good health to enjoy it. To enjoy your work and accept your lot in life—this is indeed a gift from God. God keeps such people so busy enjoying life that they take no time to brood over the past.” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭5:18-20‬ ‭NLT‬‬

He Will Cover You With His Feathers

Thu, 14 Sep 2017 01:55:17 -0600

It’s hard to believe exactly four-and-a-half years ago, I was preparing a funeral for a man I never dreamed of losing. Mr. Virgo was gone in a heartbeat, literally, and I was left to make some sense and order out of the chaos left behind. Looking back on it with today’s vision, I can see so many things I would have done differently. I don’t think I made huge mistakes, but I think if I would have known then what I know now, there are definitely things I would have done differently.

I hosted the Sisters on the Fly event over the weekend and there were a couple fairly new widows there. They did well, enjoyed themselves, and were very capable campers. I could see through all that to the pain that lay beneath the surface. I recognized them…I was there not all that long ago myself.

A couple of years ago, I was contacted by a writer and published author of many books on women and finance. She was writing an article for the New York Times on widowhood and retirement and asked if she could interview me. We have stayed in touch over the last couple of years and she has followed my blog. Recently I heard from her again. She had been asked by Fidelity to write an article about widowhood and investing and immediately thought of me. We spoke again and I shared those things I felt I did right, and those I could have…should have…done differently.

The article for Fidelity’s “Viewpoints” online magazine went live yesterday and I am sharing it with you here. From the beginning, this blog was meant not only as a way to share and heal my own grief, but also to serve as a place to learn, grow, and experience support if you are grieving, and preparation if you aren’t. Knowledge is power and grief makes you feel totally powerless. I wish I would have had a grief mentor in my early stages of loss. I try to be that person for others. If it weren’t for God covering me with His feathers to guide, guard, and protect me, I never would have survived such a loss.

And now, here I am nearly five years after losing Mr. Virgo and I not only have survived, I am thriving. New life, new love, new experiences. I never would have dreamed this was possible. Today I leave for the Country Living Fair in Columbus, Ohio. Please stop by for a visit if you are in the area! ❤️

https://www.fidelity.com/viewpoints/personal-finance/8-financial-tips-for-widows

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭91:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Beckett Brothers

Thu, 07 Sep 2017 01:55:18 -0600

I never met them. I didn’t know them. But, I knew who they were. Everyone knew who they were. When I was a little girl, you didn’t drive anywhere in town without seeing them together…walking. They walked everywhere. They loved to travel. One would always walk about ten feet behind the other. Their determined stride would take them cross town and cross country. I’ve heard stories. “They were very wealthy…they just chose to live this way.” I don’t know the truth. I do know they called them names. “Pete and Repeat”. “Mutt and Jeff”.

In truth…they were Gerald and John. They were inseparable. They were not twins but they dressed alike. Always. One time one of them was injured and they got a wheelchair. The well one wheeled the sick one. When he finally got well, an argument ensued. The well one felt it was his turn to be pushed around but the sick one refused to give up his cushy gig. There were lots of stories. But not a lot of people coming forward with open arm to help these guys. Finally, a girl named Heather was driving buy and saw them with the wheelchair stuck in the snow and said a prayer. “Lord! Why don’t you DO something for these men.” And God answered her…“I did. I made you!” So Heather turned around, drove back, and helped the men out of the snowbank in her high heels. Thus began a loving friendship between the most unlikely of people. Heather taught her children to love the way Christ loved.

This week, Gerald died in his sleep. Heather and her family was at his side. So was John. We’ll just have to wait and see how John fairs without his brother. I pray for his comfort. I pray for Heather and her family as they make this journey with only John. Parkersburg has lost a legend, an icon. It will never be the same without them walking the streets together. ❤️

“Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭133:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

An Unlikey Pair

Sat, 02 Sep 2017 01:55:28 -0600

I’ve been living on the farm a little over a year now. It went so fast, yet…as with many things…it seems so much longer. Not long after I got settled in, I began to notice an odd pair of friends at the house down the road. You never see one without the other and I cannot help but smile when I see them. They never leave the yard, wandering about nibbling up bugs and grass.

I don’t know the story behind these two. The family who lives there lost their mom several years ago so it’s just the guys on their own. They all work a lot and the house and grounds seem to be well cared for, but I rarely see anyone….just the turkey and the duck.

As Mr. FixIt and I drove to town yesterday, I asked him to stop in the rain so I could take their picture. As soon as the car stopped, the turkey laid down. The duck never moved from the turkey’s side, but he set to squawking like crazy to let me know he didn’t like the intrusion. We sat by the road and talked to them for a bit then moved on. We forgot something and had to go back to the house and when we came back down the road, the fowl confab had moved behind the house to eat uninterrupted.

I thought about this pair all the way to town and wondered…Why can’t we ALL just get along like that? Those two don’t know they’re different. They just like each other’s company. Now, I’m not going to get into a political discussion. I’m not “choosing sides”. I just think we could take a lesson or two from this turkey and duck. We only have one race…the human race. We only have one life…this one. We are being divided and I’m not sure by whom. Media? Politicians? Special interest groups? Who know…who cares? I just want to love my fellow man like this duck loves this turkey.

God created us all. He gave us the rule book. We can’t do this divided. The enemy wants us to fail. And if he can get us to do his dirty work for him and make us destroy each other…well, that’s just icing on the cake. Shine your light, people. Walk out in faith and fight for truth and justice….for all! ❤️

“Do we not all have one Father? Did not one God create us? Why do we profane the covenant of our ancestors by being unfaithful to one another?” ‭‭Malachi‬ ‭2:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Words

Fri, 01 Sep 2017 01:55:56 -0600

I have seldom been at a loss for words. My mom always said I had “the gift of gab”. I was always a little insulted by that because I was sure she was saying “You talk too much!” Ok…I’ll have to admit…I do have a lot to say. About everything.

Some of my very best writing has come from my very deepest pain. As difficult as it was to go through, that kind of writing is actually a whole lot easier than writing from a place of joy. Of peace. Of love. Writing from pain is cathartic. It releases energy and the words have a life of their own. Someone told me I had “lost my focus” a little while after I introduced Mr. FixIt to the story. That has niggled at me ever since. She’s right…in a way. But not in the way she thinks.

Here’s the thing. I was driving to the farm last night after spending a lovely day in town. I am putting some finishing touches on the event I am hosting next week for the Sisters on the Fly. Between that, the trip to Colorado, the trailer breaking down, the return trip to get it, catching up with stuff around the farm, the Centennial Celebration at my high school, and nurturing a new love relationship…I haven’t been keeping my focus where it belongs. Not on grief, but on God. I was driving along that twisty turny two lane and started talking to Him. Then I realized…I hadn’t been keeping Him at the center of my life for a little while. I took my focus off for just a moment and that led me down a path I don’t like. Peter was walking on water toward Jesus when he took his eyes off Him…and sank immediately.

I had a long discussion with God…it’s a forty-five minute ride, you know. I made my apologies and I’ll try to do better. Because everything is better when I keep God at the center of my life. My relationships. My writing. My life. It has to be more than just lip service, this profession of faith. Keeping that fire in my belly keeps me from drowning…and keeps my words flowing. ❤️

““Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭14:28-33‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Photo Credit: Shutterstock

A Surprising Find

Wed, 30 Aug 2017 01:55:43 -0600

Yesterday’s post about the old Lily Pond in City Park sparked a debate as to which pond was actually the one with all the lilies on it…the big one that is still there or the smaller one that was taken out many years ago. I set out to do some research on Roger Mackey’s page. Roger is a fine historian on West Virginia, and Parkersburg in particular. He has pages and pages of historic photos of everything from the old movie theaters to natural disasters…from the society elite to skid row…and all things in between. I can get lost for hours looking through his old photos. It’s like going into an antique store for me.

As I browsed through the titles of the different pages, looking for City Park, I saw the page for Greiner’s Bakery and clicked on it. My paternal grandmother decorated cakes for Greiner’s for many, many years. The Bakery sat near the corner of my high school campus and every afternoon the smell of fresh baked bread wafted in through the open windows of my classroom, drawing my attention quickly away from the dry lectures my chemistry teacher gave.

I could hardly wait till school was out each afternoon. I would meet my cousin Mike and walk up the alley to Grandmother’s house. She always had a dozen raised glazed donuts and a galling of ice cold milk waiting for us. We made quick work of those delicious treats. She called them “seconds”, which meant they were accidentally dropped in the glaze twice! Their loss was definitely our gain!

As I scrolled down the old photos and read the descriptions, I stumbled across two special ones that caused a rush of memories and a great big smile. First, there was this photo of the company Christmas Party. I scanned the faces, and there…to the left…is my grandmother, smiling broadly into the camera! My relationship with my dad’s mother was complicated by her dislike for my father. I never quite understood my standing in her world, but I do have many fond memories of her. She baked and decorated wonderful cakes. She instilled her loved of seeing and crafting in me. She made the best chicken and dumplings I ever ate. She also forced me to drink unsweetened sage tea as she believed my pale skin was secondary to intestinal parasites. To this day, I cannot stomach sage.

I remember the house she lived in on Avery Street. Avery was one of the old brick streets in town. Grandmother’s house was a half block from a huge cemetery and just two blocks from my high school. She rented the lower level of a two story house. The landlady lived upstairs with her cocker spaniel, Honey. Honey would cry and howl every time her mama would leave the house and it made me so sad. The front porch was large and covered. There was a swing and room for several chairs.

The interior of the house was dark and quiet. The mahogany hardwood floors were covered with thick oriental rugs. The mantel in the front room had a clock that chimed the hour. The dining room was set up as her sewing room…an old, low, armless rocker sat in the corner. The bedroom was comfortable. A silver ladies dresser set was on the top with a brush, a comb, a mirror, a small cup for bobby pins, and a covered powder container filled with the pale grey webbing of hair nets. The tines of the comb were blue from the rinse my grandmother religiously put on her hair. The bathroom had doors to the bedroom and the kitchen. I loved the claw foot tub. I received many Toni home perms in that bathroom. The kitchen had tall, white painted cabinets and a long, deep farm sink. It was the brightest room in the house. The counters were covered with African violets growing in every possible container…including teacups. The backdoor let out to a postage stamp yard with a huge holly tree. A dogwood graced the front yard. Bits of slate tiles lay here and there around the perimeter of the house. I was lucky and found a whole one once that crash landed in the flower bed. I used it as a blackboard when I played school.

As I scrolled past the picture with my grandmother in it, I came to a shot of the display windows in one of the newer stores. There in the left is a doll cake. Oh, my…I coveted that cake every year, begging my grandmother for one for my birthday. When I finally got one, I was elated…especially when I found out the doll’s legs were embedded in rich, buttercream frosting! The “dress” was decorated with loops and swags and flowers and I thought it was the prettiest thing I had ever seen.

Complicated family relationships can lead to a lifetime of resentment and hurt feelings. The other day, my post was all about forgiveness setting you free. Forgiveness hasn’t rewritten history, per se. But it has allowed me to focus on the good memories I have of my father and his family. And as an adult, I have had the utmost good fortune of getting to know my cousins from that side of the family and I have been greatly blessed by that. It is never too late to change your focus and see the good parts of your past. Yesterday’s treasured finds have reminded me of that. ❤️

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” ‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭10:31‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Forgiveness

Mon, 28 Aug 2017 01:55:55 -0600

We had a guest speaker at church yesterday and man…did he deliver! So here we go…it’s time for some Monday Morning Motivation. We’re going to church.

Forgiveness. Such a simple word that is packed full of power. We all need forgiveness for something. Something we’ve done that has hurt others. Hurt ourselves. Or maybe, something we did in the dark that no one knows about. Thing is….someone knows. Someone always knows. You know. And God knows.

“would not God discover this? For he knows the secrets of the heart.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭44:21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Our guest pastor was Pace Hartfield of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. He tells a story of the first night his father let him drive his mother’s brand new car when he turned sixteen. There was just one caveat…he was not to leave town. So, of course, he left town. And had an accident. He had hoped to leave his dad in the dark, cruise 22nd Street with his homey, Andy, and get back with his dad none the wiser. But the deed was exposed. There was the damage to the car. And the police report. There was no way around it. Pace’s dad didn’t yell at him. He didn’t beat him. He grounded him. He also informed him he had lost his father’s trust. He would have preferred the beating, I am sure.

How many time have we lost the trust of others by our deeds? How many others have trespassed against us and we have lost our trust in them? As Pace pointed out so eloquently, forgiveness requires exposure. And that exposure creates vulnerability. Oh, we hate feeling vulnerable, don’t we? We can get stuck in that exposure and vulnerability and feel shame without forgiveness. It is the forgiveness that sets us free. That frees others. Who have you literally held hostage for years by not forgiving them?

The guest pastor spoke of the woman who was caught in the act of adultery. The religious leaders tried to set Jesus up by bringing the woman before him in the temple where he was teaching. They were loud and raucous and challenged Jesus to do something with her. Instead, he ignored them and stopped down to write in the sand. The leaders were outraged and became even louder. Jesus quietly stood up and said, “Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone.” He then went back to writing in the sand. One by one, the leaders left without stoning the woman till they were left alone in the temple. Jesus knew what she had done. But he loved her anyway. He did not condone what she had done, and instead offered her forgiveness and sent her on her way with the admonishment to “Go and sin no more.”

We all sin. We all make mistakes. We feel guilt and shame. But we are forgiven and we are loved. Forgiveness sets us free from the bondage we place on ourselves, on others, by others. I often quote Maya Angelou…“We do what we know and when we know better, we do better.” Well, sometimes we know better and we do it anyway. Yet, still…we are loved and forgiven by a good, good Father. Our work here is to love and forgive in the same way. ❤️

“The eyes of the LORD are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭15:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Back on the Farm

Sat, 26 Aug 2017 01:55:41 -0600

It’s been a year since I put down roots here on the family farm. Well, as deep a root as I can put and not own property. What a remarkable year! I battled fleas, painted walls, mowed, trimmed, pruned, cleaned, sorted, dehumidifier, and about scared myself to death that I had ruined the well or burned up the pump. I’ve learned to stop letting grief steal my joy. I’ve learned to let go of the fear of loss and clear out enough room in my life to accommodate the love of a sweet man. I’ve spoken in front of crowds, large and small. I started blogging for Sisters on the Fly as well as here on Marshmallow Ranch. I bought a vintage camper to fix up. I’ve been to Colorado twice, Florida twice, the Outer Banks, Tennessee, Savannah, Amish Country, and a fun trip to a WVU basketball game. I’ve been to concerts galore…Garth Brooks, SHEL, Brandy Carlisle to name a few. I’ve camped at some pretty cool places. I’ve been interviewed for podcasts and articles. I’ve lost some people in one way or another and I’ve gained more. I spent some wonderful time with my family. I’ve grown stronger in my faith. And I fell in love. All in one year! Whew!

We got home from the trip to Indiana and It was almost dark. I had to back this camper up into the driveway and it was more challenging as the light faded. I got it in ok and Mr. FixIt was a real trooper coaching me along. He filmed it. It might be funny…I don’t know. I haven’t taken the time to look at it yet.

We are going to a class picnic today so as soon as I walked in last night, I mixed up a yellow cake to bake. I’ll make Penuche Frosting this morning so it’s nice and fresh. I looked through Grandma’s notebook hoping to find her recipe but it wasn’t there. Her Brown Sugar Pie recipe was though. I’ll have to make that soon…it’s wonderful!

As I sat and wrote this, Mr. FixIt asked if I could hear the owl. I couldn’t until I went to the front door. I recorded it for you and posted it last night so be sure you catch it. It’s the Eastern Screech Owl we heard the other evening on our walk. Oh…we visited with the neighbor down the road he other evening. He had a health scare while we were in Colorado and I was so happy to see him out working in his garden! It’s just another reminder how uncertain life is.

If you are in Texas, or have loved ones there, you are in my prayers. Please check in and let us know how you’re doing.

Yes…it’s been an amazing year on the farm, hasn’t it? Big things, little things, fun things, scary things. But we made it through. We’ll keep on keeping on and I’ll keep telling you these stories about this crazy, beautiful life I am privileged to lead. Thank you all for being here! ❤️

“and having a reputation for good works: if she has brought up children, has shown hospitality, has washed the feet of the saints, has cared for the afflicted, and has devoted herself to every good work.” ‭‭1 Timothy‬ ‭5:10‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Back to Business as Usual? Not so Fast!

Tue, 22 Aug 2017 01:55:18 -0600

Ok, move along…nothing to see here. Just a boxer in some goggles…looking uber cool, I might add! This is Chloe. I met her and her human, Kelly, at Point Park yesterday. All weekend I’d been poo-pooing this whole eclipse madness as though the entire world had gone ‘round the bend. I was on my way back to the farm yesterday…fully intending to go home and mow, when I got a call that something I was having repaired was ready for pickup. I hadn’t gone far out the two-lane so I turned around and headed back. Mr. FixIt called and when he found out where I was, he came to join me. (Mr. FixIt would crawl through glass to see me. He told me so. ?) So, there we were, nothing to do, with a nearly total eclipse about to occur. And…I went silly!

I asked the clerk for a couple pieces of paper. I got a manila envelope with a large hole for the clasp. And, I punched a smaller one in it with an earring post. Whatever works, right? We took off for McDonalds to arm ourselves with cold drinks and headed for Point Park. It was hot! The light started to change. I wasn’t getting the right distance to get a clear picture with the pinhole projector I had jury rigged. There was a couple standing next to us that offered to share their eclipse glasses. A few others gathered. And for one glorious hour, we were treated to a taste of what life was like in the olden days. You know…pre-election. We had an awesome goal…share a cool experience and have fun! And then it hit me. THAT’S what the whole over-the-top, staggeringly silly, brouhaha was all about…these mega gatherings. We just wanted an escape. A reminder of our humanity. A reminder there is peace and goodness and kindness in the world. It filled me with hope of brighter days ahead.

We have the power to turn this around…this sense of frustration and fear. It’s all about focus. What we focus on is what we see. Yesterday it was the sun. Today…what will it be? For me? I’m looking for joy. Joy created by others. And joy which I can create. C’mon…let’s change the story. Let’s go do the good stuff. Look at Chloe, The Boxer. She changed the story with a pair of shades! ❤️

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2:4‬ ‭ESV‬

My Hometown

Thu, 17 Aug 2017 01:55:11 -0600

There was a time in my life when I didn’t think much of my home town. I considered it terribly backwoods in comparison to the metropolis of Denver. To my chagrin, I recall making disparaging comments about Parkersburg, and West Virginia in general to anyone and everyone. It’s a wonder they didn’t revoke my home state status and mark me down as “hatched from under a rock”. What can I say? I never rebelled as an adolescent. I saved it all for long after I should have known better.

I remember making such comments to one of my oldest, dearest friends. We went to high school together and we’re “sisters of different parentage”. As a matter of fact, when I went off to live outside London for two years then settled in Denver, it was my high school friend who kept a close, personal friendship with my mom. She was a much better daughter to her in those days than I was. When I spoke ill of my fellow Mountaineers and this Wild and Wonderful state, she had some pretty stern words to say to me.

“You just remember where you came from, missy. I knew you when you had nothing, just like me!”

Oh, she was so right. I was feeling pretty full of myself…a doctor’s wife and all. Like…small town girl does good. I was an ass. Plain and simple. And I’ve done my best to make up for it. As Maya Angelou said…“We do what we know. And when we know better, we do better.” These last three years, I’ve spent more time in West Virginia than I had in all of the forty years prior. I’ve grown to love and appreciate this rugged state filled with can-do, sturdy individuals. I still get frustrated sometimes when I see progress thwarted at every turn. But maybe staying a little backward is ok. Yeah, we have been hit hard with drug problems. Poverty, obesity, poor education run rampant. Plants and mines closing down. Towns with nothing for kids to do but make more kids that do nothing. But, at the base, there is this amazing depth of pride for coming up through the hard times and standing tall when they play the National Anthem at the Friday night football games at every high school in every county. The mountains run through our veins like the coal beneath our feet and we are a fiercely proud, fiercely independent, fiercely loyal group of people.

Last night, as Mr. FixIt and I sat and watched the sun set over the Ohio River at Fort Boreman Park, we looked out over this town we grew up in. You could see where the houses sat on Quincy Hill where Mr. FixIt grew up. You could see Ohio across the river. I snapped photo after photo, trying to capture for you the essence of West Virginia…of Parkersburg…of my home town. In the end, it is in the peaceful colors of the setting sun that I see the famous blue and gold…West Virginia’s colors. And I realized that we are the river and the sky, the mountains and the valleys, the wooded hillsides and the amber fields. We will always be here. Montani Semper Liberi…Mountaineers are always free. ❤️

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭3:17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Curiosity

Wed, 16 Aug 2017 01:05:28 -0600

You know what they say about curiosity…it killed the cat! I don’t know what Kitty Boy was after, but something sure had his attention yesterday. This old stump is what’s left of a poplar tree my Pop-Pop planted when I was a teenager. Poplars grow fast, tall, and straight as an arrow but they are pretty fragile in a storm. Long after Grandma died, my aunt was living here alone and a bad storm blew up. She said that poplar tree was twisting in a circle and she was just sure it was going to come down on the house so the next time her brother came, she had him cut it down. I understand why, but it broke my heart to see it gone. Thoughtfully, they left a tall stump and we use it for the rain gauge…and occasional cat perch. I noticed as I sat and wrote this last night, the rain gauge needs emptying. It’s at five inches. It hasn’t been emptied since before I left for Colorado in early July. I’m sure there has been some evaporation, but I know we had a lot of rain while I was gone.

I noticed when I was mowing yesterday that the creek banks are eroding a lot this year. I pointed it out to Mr. FixIt last night. We’re going to have to line the banks with heavy stones to keep the creek from eating out into the yard and into the foundation of the house. The new dehumidifier is doing a great job and has reduced the humidity in the basement from 75% to 45-50%. That makes the whole house feel more comfortable. This house was built in the early 1930’s. And it was a cheaply made one, at that. The rough sawn timber siding has shrunk over the years and there are now gaps of nearly an inch between them. It has the original tin roof. The walls in the upstairs bedrooms are made of what looks like a stiff corrugated cardboard with several layers of wallpaper accumulated over the years. The basement is unfinished and damp and could use a good coating of a waterproofing product. There’s just a boatload of work that should be done, but here it sits…held together with spit and love.

I was blessed that my friend Charlotte mowed for me while I was gone. It rained the last several days though so I couldn’t mow till yesterday. I swear I could have used a bailer on it! It was still pretty wet and the grass clumped up bad as I mowed. It kept clogging up the grass chute and I’d have to stop, turn off the mower, clear it out, and start up again. It was in the 90’s yesterday and I had to keep taking breaks. It took five attempts to get the yard done and I didn’t even attempt the area up by the barn. I don’t have a rake here. Well, there may be one up in the barn somewhere but this is snake and spider season so if it’s up there, there it’s staying for now. Mr. FixIt called before he headed to the farm yesterday and I asked if he could bring me a rake. He had to kind of piece one together from parts but it’ll do. As I am writing this, he is out in the yard, raking up those ugly clumps of wet grass so they don’t kill spots in my yard. What a good man!

It sounds like a lot of work, doesn’t it? This farm…this old house…this home of my heart. It is. Things are always breaking or fumbling but I fix them and move on. Yesterday it was the water. I was running a bath and it was sputtering and sent bits of black sediment from the hot water heater. It’s old and fragile. I flushed it out for a while, checked the pump, and checked the heater itself. I think it was from sitting dormant for a month. After I flushed it out it seemed fine. Yes, there’s a lot to do, and it is hard work. But, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. Farm living suits me. It’s brought a pride into my life I felt lacking most of my adulthood. The kind of pride that comes with working hard and going to bed tired, and happy. ❤️

“Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭37:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

A Change in the Air

Tue, 15 Aug 2017 01:55:29 -0600

Even though it is only the middle of August, there is a definite change in the air. There are leaves changing already and the woods have taken on the “tired green” of late summer, having spent their glorious stores of chlorophyll in the peak of summer. Yesterday dawned cloudy and relatively cool and soon the sky gifted us with a gentle rain that lasted most of the day. So much for mowing the lawn.

I’m sitting on the front porch at the farm as I write this, watching the goldfinches fight over the socks of thistle seeds. Boy Cat and Old Mama Kitty are keeping me company as I listen to the rain pattering on the leaves in the nearby woods. The sun is trying to break through and make its first appearance of the day, just shy of 5:00. Since I couldn’t mow, I drove to town and ran errands. I am hosting a Sisters on the Fly event September 7-10 and I needed to make arrangements. I have 23 women signed up so far and registration is still open if you would like to attend.

I felt much better today…stronger, better rested. I have been thinking about triggers and how they stimulate the grief response. At first, everything is a trigger. When you are in the acute stages of grief, your feelings are like a frayed electric cord, ready to shock you at the slightest touch. After some time, things even out a bit but it is still amazing how the tiniest thing can trigger grief. When you’ve had a long stretch without a meltdown, you can get a little complacent, thinking maybe you’re through all that. So it kind of takes you by surprise when a new wave comes. That was what I felt over the weekend.

As I was driving through town yesterday, I was coming up to a stoplight when I heard an ambulance approaching. I stopped and waited for it to come through from my left and make the turn towards the hospital. There was an elderly man seated in the front passenger seat and I suddenly flashed back to the ambulance ride taking Mr. Virgo to the ER from the RV dealership where he had his heart attack. I hadn’t thought about that drive for quite some time. For a brief moment, my eyes met those of the man in the front seat and I recognized that panicked and confused look on his face. There was a slight set of the jaw that was familiar. “Ok, ok, ok….let’s get this done. Be strong. Just breathe.” At least, that’s what went through my mind when I was in his shoes.

I didn’t have a reaction to this trigger. I was prepared. It’ll be a while before I have another grief response, I imagine. I’m a bit more on guard now. That’s a relief of sorts. I hate when the wave comes unexpectedly. For now, I’ll sit on the porch and watch the rain as the light changes and the hummingbirds fight over the feeder…and wait for Mr. FixIt to call so I can start supper. History repeats itself and life goes on. ❤️

“And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.” ‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

When Darkness Calls

Mon, 14 Aug 2017 01:55:05 -0600

I have some really great friends who look out for me. They each seem to have a role. My longest term friend “feels” when something is wrong and she needs to reach out right away. Others send articles for my reference and give me a heads up when I have a typo in a post. They know I cannot STAND typos. One sends me the funniest memes I have ever seen on the internet and spends equal time kicking me in the butt when I need it…which is more often than you may imagine. My old high school chum, Marion, sent me an excellent article the other day about what the first year of widowhood was like for Jodi of the blog Extra Grace Required. She listed the important things she learned that first year. If memory serves, I’ve written a few of those missives myself. We live and we learn and we grow as we crawl our way along on this grief journey.

Just because I have found new love, doesn’t mean I have miraculously “gotten over” the loss of Mr. Virgo. It means I’ve grown. It means my heart has healed enough to make room for more love in my life. It certainly does NOT mean I never have a bad day or have sad feelings. And here’s what’s most important. My bad days or my sad feelings have absolutely nothing to do with my love for Mr. FixIt. It’s complicated loving two men…one here, one not quite so much. It’s easy to love this wonderful man I’ve known almost as long as I can remember. I just have to incorporate a lot of feelings at once which is made more difficult when I’m tired and not feeling up to par.

One of the things Jodi noticed after her first year is, she feels the grief of others more easily. Before loss, grief is sad, you feel bad for the one who has lost a loved one, you have your own feelings to sort out about your relationship with the departed. But, once it has happened so close to home that your heart has literally been ripped out of your chest, the grief of others is not so easily compartmentalized. Someone close to me lost a son-in-law this summer. I spoke to the widow on the phone Saturday, giving some support, acknowledging feelings, commiserating, feeling. When she broke down into those guttural cries I still remember so vividly, my heart squeezed tight, my throat closed, my stomach churned, I got hot and sweaty, my fight or flight response kicked in big time. I held it together. I didn’t crumble….until late in the night. I couldn’t go to sleep. My head was pounding and my heart ached for this young woman who is so new in this journey. I tossed and turned. I used my Rescue Remedy. When sleep wouldn’t come, I changed course and walked around the dimly lit house until I felt I could settle down. I finally slept, but didn’t feel much better when I awoke.

So, it was one of THOSE days. Out of sorts. Off my feed. I didn’t even want coffee…gasp! It was a tea and oatmeal and crackers and lay low kind of day. Not exactly a day spent mattress-surfing, but close. The best part was…Mr. FixIt was there to offer comfort and support and love. He was totally nonjudgmental. He is a remarkable man. He just listened and held me and that’s all I needed. After a while, I was feeling better. Not fine, but ok. I sent him home to do whatever he needed to do for the afternoon and I settled in with my thoughts and processed.

Process.. That’s what this whole thing is. It doesn’t matter if it’s one year or five years or twenty-five…grief is a process. It doesn’t always hit me like this anymore…thank God. The biggest lesson I’ve learned in all of this is, when the wave hits, don’t fight it. Let it carry you to a place of self-discovery and love. And when you’re ready, dust yourself off, wash your face, and get back to the business of living. Because, that’s what we’re here for. ❤️

extragracerequired.com/2017/03/2…

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:38-39‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Welcome Home!

Fri, 11 Aug 2017 01:55:35 -0600

Is there anything more wonderful than the glow of the gas light in the yard to welcome you home? This light has burned continuously since I was a little girl. It’s had many mates replaced and several panes of glass. It’s had a coat or two of flat black paint and it can no longer be adjusted for the rust, but it’s the beacon that greets me when I come up the driveway here at the farm

I ran errands this morning…mail, groceries, produce stand, coffee. Then made a beeline home. All the kitties came to greet me. Old Mama Kitty trembled at the sound of my voice. Boy cat sat a respectable distance and gave me his best throaty hello. Kitty Boy skirted me and settled at the barn with a mouse or some such critter.

I called the neighbors to let them know I was home. They had informed me several days ago not to be too surprised when I come home and find four new kittens. What??? It seems they hitch-hiked up in the car and stayed. I think the mama took one back because it was back at their house down the road. That left three. I managed to catch two of them and delivered them back to their mama. I just didn’t have it in me to try to catch the last one. I’ll try today.

It rained an extraordinary amount here this summer and many of the surfaces in the house are covered in a light mold and mildew. I need to get after it with bleach water. I also need a dehumidifier. I put the groceries away, fed the cats, sorted the mail, cleaned the fridge, and just about emptied the truck. I am spent. I don’t know if it’s age, or if it’s after effects of the concussion, or all the trouble with the camper, but this trip was a rough one for me…even with the help of Mr. FixIt. Thank God he was along. It was fun. I loved seeing the kids and I miss everyone already. But I swear…I’m going to sleep for a week!

If you don’t hear from me for a bit, I’m laying low and catching my breath. I just wanted you to know I’m home…really home! God protected us and kept us safe and we are so grateful! ❤️

““Return home and tell how much God has done for you.” So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭8:39‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Thirty-Something..."Home! Kinda."

Thu, 10 Aug 2017 01:55:03 -0600

Yesterday was lovely. We went out for breakfast then headed to Camping World to check on the trailer. They were still working on locating an axle. We elected to take the wheel with the nearly shredded tire to Walmart and get a new one. Easy peasy. Then, to kill some time, we went to New Paris and browsed the antique stores. By 4:00 we decided it was best to go check in on the trailer again. Bad news. The replacement axle isn’t sitting on a shelf someplace. They don’t make them until they’re ordered. And, they take ten days to make. So the camper won’t be ready for at least two weeks!

Ok. Change of plans. It was already 4:30. We swung around back and emptied everything we would need out of the camper. We threw away any food that wouldn’t stay fresh in the fridge, even though they assured us they would keep the trailer plugged in. We stuffed as much as we could in the truck and headed to dinner at a dive along the highway. Then we left Richmond, Indiana and headed for Cleveland to pick up Mr. FixIt’s truck. He left it parked there when he flew to Colorado. We picked it up, filled both trucks with gas, stopped at McDonald’s for coffee and headed for home. It was 1:15 by the time we got to Parkersburg and it would have been another hour to the farm. I called Mr. FixIt behind me and said I’d had enough…so we stopped at his place and I’ll head on in the morning.

We’ll go on another road trip in a couple of weeks and pick up TOW-Wanda. We’ll talk more tomorrow about how this fiasco happened and what to do to avoid it in the future. In the meantime, I’m done. Thank you, God…for protecting us and keeping us safe during our travels. ❤️

“The LORD makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with his hand.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭37:23-24‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Thirty-Two..."Crap!"

Wed, 09 Aug 2017 01:55:16 -0600

One of the most important things I’ve learned about camping is this…check, check, and double-check everything. When I had that blowout a couple years ago, I learned to check the air pressure every single time I tow…whether it’s to the end of the driveway or across the state. I learned this from Stephanie and Jeremy Puglisi of RV Family Travel Atlas and Janine Pettit of Girl Camper Podcast. Now I check my tires religiously.

Day before yesterday, we stopped in a rest area and when I got back in the truck, I walked around…checking to make sure everything looked good. We were fifty miles from the campground. That stretch of I-70 was particularly rough…to the point we had to slow way down. We got to the campground and did a lot of routine maintenance things. I dumped the tanks and cleaned them out. I picked up inside the camper and got set up for the evening, and cooked supper. After the dishes were done and put away, we got those showers we were so anxiously awaiting and crashed. We were both exhausted and slept like logs.

Yesterday morning, I was unhooking things and Mr. FixIt was checking the air pressure in the tires. When he got to the driver’s side rear tire he said, “Whoa, babe…come look at this. This isn’t good.” The rubber cover was missing off the hub and you could see down into the bearing housing. I knew when I got close and looked at the grease that we did indeed have a problem. The grease was packed with flecks of shiny metal…the bearings had been disintegrated. Luckily there was a Camping World four miles back so we very slowly, very carefully took the camper over.

After tearing it apart and checking into the other wheels, they believe the last person who repacked my bearings (which I just had done this spring) had tightened the nut down too hard which doesn’t allow for the expansion of the bearings when they get hot. The end cap made of rubber blew off with the resulting pressure and shot all the hot grease out, leaving nothing to lubricate the bearings. Consequently, the casing got so hot it literally melted the bearing housing. The only thing that kept the wheel from flying off was a $2.00 cotter pin. Thank God it wasn’t worse…no one was injured. But the bad news is, it didn’t make any noise and we didn’t detect anything in the operation of the trailer in any way, so we drove on it at 60mph for 50 miles or so. That was hot enough to etch the spindle and the whole axle needs replaced. They are working hard to find me one…even if they have to send someone up to the Starcraft factory up in Elkhart.

But, here’s the thing…when I had the blowout two years ago, the repairman forgot to put the dust cover back over the hub. When I had the hubs repacked last time, the shop didn’t have one. I’ve thought of it off and on but never got around to it. And, since I wasn’t actually checking the temperature of the hubs, if that dust cover WOULD have been in place, I never would have seen there was a problem. This was, quite literally, a disaster waiting to happen and it’s a miracle no one was injured.

So, we have an unexpected adventure…exploring Richmond, Indiana and the Old National Road…home of some pretty great antique stores. We found a room for $60 and had dinner at Cracker Barrel. Yes, this is inconvenient. Yes, the repair is going to be expensive. But, we are safe…we are together…and God has us in the palms of his hands. Life is good! ❤️

“You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus. Our God and Father abounds in glory that just pours out into eternity. Yes.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:19-20‬ ‭MSG‬‬

Road Trip: Day Thirty-One..."Camping in Comfort!"

Tue, 08 Aug 2017 01:55:34 -0600

OMGosh! After camping two nights in parking lots, Grandpa’s Farm Campground is just what the doctor ordered. Mr. FixIt and I were up at the crack of dawn and dragged our sorry butts into the IHOP for breakfast. Coffee, coffee, coffee. I slept maybe three pharmaceutically induced hours to the refrains of a hundred diesel engines idling all night. Ok, there were…like, twenty-five, ok? All I’m sayin’ is…it sounded like the 10th Armored Division were on maneuvers in my living room. Have I ever mentioned I’m grumpy in the mornings if I don’t sleep well and coffee is delayed by the briefest of moments? I thought not…I hate to tarnish my pristine reputation. Oy.

After breakfast, we sat down with the Atlas and the RV Campground Directory and figured out how long we wanted to drive today. It put us right in the vicinity of Richmond, IN…a very cute little burg. I was in Richmond when Daughter #1 graduated from college a few miles away in Oxford, Ohio at the Miami University. I stopped at this campground on my way out to Colorado this summer. It’s the one I found on a Saturday night when I was contemplating how sorry I was that I’d miss church the next morning, only to find out they have Campground Church every Sunday. It’s run by a lovely family. There is some road noise in the early evening, but it soon dies down after folks get home from work. There’s also a rushing stream along the edge of the campground that you can hear at night. AAA got me a discount and a full hookup site was $32.50. As soon as I got everything hooked up, I turned on the hot water heater so we could enjoy hot showers for the first time in three days! Heavenly!

But, here’s the very coolest thing….Mr. FixIt DROVE for me all but the first hour. We were tooling along and I just hadn’t had enough sleep or enough coffee. We pulled into a service station, got my pillows and blankets out of the trailer, and I crawled into the passenger side and slept for two hours. When I woke up, I marveled at the decadence of having someone drive me around…pulling my camper with confidence, being just as careful of her as I am. It felt amazing…this giving over some control after having to do everything by myself for so long. The thing is, I kept hanging onto that control…long after I had a capable partner to help me. It was liberating in the totally opposite way of women’s liberation. It felt inclusive, a communal effort. And I was in hog heaven!

We got to the campground by 3:00 which allows for so much more of an evening than midnight does. Mr. FixIt went for a walk while I wrote this post so we could just enjoy the evening without interruptions. We cooked a nice dinner and sat outside listening to the many sounds of the campground. What a precious treat this man is. Thank you God for safe travels. And thank You for bringing me such a wonderful man to enjoy! ❤️

“Sing to the LORD, all the earth; proclaim his salvation day after day. Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.” ‭‭1 Chronicles‬ ‭16:23-24‬ ‭NIV

Road Trip: Day Twenty-Nine..."On the Road Again!"

Sat, 05 Aug 2017 01:55:47 -0600

This is the hard part…saying goodbye. I don’t like goodbyes. I miss my kids and my grands when I’m in West Virginia. I wish we lived closer. At one point I was ready to move back to Colorado. But man…the cost of living is nearing the breaking posing for most people and it has gotten so incredibly crowded. As much as I will miss my girls, I am longing for home…for the peacefulness of the country…for smaller towns and fewer crowds.

We had a great day yesterday. We fussed around getting the camper cleaned and ready for travel. We did laundry and visited with my son-in-law’s parents, then went to Little’s Art Camp program. She displayed several art pieces and played the violin. Afterwards, we had 14 for a family dinner and that will have to do till next time. We’ve decided to drive the back roads and see what a cross road trip was like in the days of the two-lane blacktop. We’ll follow a river into the sand hills of the western prairie. Our progress will be slow, but I’ll check in and share with you. This is an entirely new experience for me and I’m looking forward to it! ❤️

“Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone.’ ”

For it is written: “ ‘He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully;” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭4:4, 10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Twenty-Eight..."Dancing"

Fri, 04 Aug 2017 01:55:04 -0600

I love listening to live music. We met Daughter #1 and the grands for dinner then attended the outdoor concert at Flatirons Crossing…a large mall in Louisville, CO. They left at intermission so when the band started up again, I led Mr. FixIt out on the dance floor for the second half. I love to dance, but my 64-year-old knees were screaming in protest before long. I’ll pay for it today, I’m afraid.

Yesterday was spent running errands like getting the oil changed on the truck for the trip back. Today is cleaning, doing laundry, packing. We all get to attend Little’s presentation at the end of art camp this afternoon then one last family gathering before we head out in the morning. It’s been a fast month and I’ll miss my babies. I’m already planning our return trip around Christmas! I know this isn’t much of a post…just touching base as we tie up loose ends before we leave. ❤️

“Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭127:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Twenty-Seven..."When Your Mom Dies"

Thu, 03 Aug 2017 01:55:10 -0600

My friend, Fred, lost his mom yesterday. We got the word while we were visiting Buffalo Bill’s grave. It made me think of my mom. It made me think back to when my oldest was about three and Mom came out to Colorado for a visit. I brought her up here and we sat on this very bench. She was well and happy and healthy and I thought I’d have her forever. Years later, my mom got sick suddenly and was gone in five days.

Nature tells us our parents will age and eventually die, leaving us to go on as best we can without them. But, at least for me, we never are prepared for how we’ll feel when the time comes and we have to say goodbye to our source…the giver of life, the nurturer, the teacher, the nurse, the chauffeur, the disciplinarian, the confidant. We’re never ready…we’re blindsided with the enormity of the loss. Incredulous as it may seem, this larger-than-life woman had the audacity to grow old and leave me.

It’s been thirteen years since I lost my mom. I still want to call her every Sunday evening. I think of something to share with her then sadly remember she is gone. And now Fred is a member of the club of orphans…his mom gone away from him. He is alone. My heart is with him and his family.

We enjoyed the visit to Lookout Mountain yesterday. And, last night I spent the evening with all my girls. Mr. FixIt takes great pics and it was so much fun to laugh and share funny stories. Stories about their dad…and Mr. Virgo…and Grammy. We hated to break away and end the evening. We vowed to talk more often. Another day done. Another day filled with love. ❤️

“Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:28‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Twenty-Six..."On Sharing"

Wed, 02 Aug 2017 01:55:19 -0600

There has been a major shift within me this trip. I wasn’t sure going into this vacation how I would react sharing the space that is mine in Colorado with both Mr. Virgo’s memory and Mr. FixIt’s presence. How would everything fit? At home on the farm in West Virginia, Mr. Virgo only occupies space in my mind and heart as well as what few tangible things I have kept that were his. Here, he lives in the mountains, he sits in the sunsets, he whispers in the wind that blows through the trees. He’s everywhere. Would he distract me too much? How would I feel entertaining two men…one very much here, the other very much real but not here?

I took this wonderful man to “meet” Mr. Virgo and I needn’t have worried. He respected my space. He listened intently. He waited patiently. And at the perfect moment, he walked up behind me, wrapped me in his arms and said, “I’m so sorry, Ginny. I know this was so hard for you. You’ve been through so much and you are very brave.” His arms were a comfort. My fingers intertwined with his as I leaned back against him. I felt his warm breath in my hair. For a moment, I remembered what this same position felt like with Mr. Virgo. Then I let it go…like a feather on a breeze…dancing and floating away from me.

Time has allowed me perspective and healing. Choice has brought me ever onward and upward. Prayer has given me strength where there was none. Mr. FixIt has given me…Love. Hope. Trust. Joy. Peace. Companionship. Friendship. Laughter. Stability. Comfort. Contact. Connection. I am grateful. This shift has a lot to do with all of the above. Sharing this space with my new love is helping me to, yet again, redefine its meaning. Redefine who I am…redefine my “status”. I know it’s different for everyone. For me, at four and a half years…it’s a choice. I choose love. It is my purpose in life. It is the one thing I am to practice, to hone my skill at. To emulate in a Christ-like way. Not just my love for Mr. FixIt or Mr. Virgo…but for everyone.

I’ve been asked when I will share a picture of Mr. FixIt with you. And the answer is…not in his lifetime. Not a definable picture, anyway. Distance, maybe. From the back, sure. His hands, definitely. He has the hands of a hard-working man and I love them. But I won’t be sharing his name or his face because those are mine. I share everything else with you…my pain, my fears, my hopes, my joys, my struggles, and my triumphs. I do so without reservation as this is my platform…my purpose. I share to spread love and promote healing. This one great thing…this glimpse into who he really is in real life…is the one tangible thing I will fervently protect.

Yesterday was a day shared with loved ones. My heart is full. ❤️

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” 1 Corinthians 13:2-7 NIV

Road Trip, Day Twenty-Four..."In Jesus' Name"

Mon, 31 Jul 2017 01:55:55 -0600

Whew….some Mondays we just have to go to church here at the Ranch. Especially when I’ve heard a sermon like yesterday. Let me tell you a little bit about how God works in my life. There’s a church here in Denver that I really like…Red Rocks Church. It’s very much like my home church in West Virginia…contemporary, progressive, energetic. I love it and couldn’t wait to take Mr. FixIt. Red Rocks Church has four campuses plus a prison outreach. One campus has the pastor live and all the others watch a live feed on the big screen in their respective churches. I usually go to the Arvada campus, but I really wanted Mr. FixIt to hear the sermon live. I was planning to drive down to the Littleton Campus in order to accomplish that. I’m always quick to get ready but yesterday I just couldn’t seem to get it together. I couldn’t believe it when I looked at the clock and saw we would be lucky to make it to the local satellite church. We made a bee line and got there in time to grab a cup of coffee and get seated. As we were walking into the sanctuary, a volunteer said, “You’re in for a treat today…the pastor is here live with an amazing message!” I couldn’t believe it. If we would have left on time to get to the other church, we would have been watching the pastor on the big screen! God fascinates me. His ways are so mysterious. His love is so complete.

The message yesterday was about the Samaritan woman at the well again. The pastor spoke about five words and how they relate to all of us. Pain. Prison. Power. Platform. Purpose. The Samaritan woman had suffered pain…as we all have. She was living in a self-imposed prison of isolation as she avoided interacting with others. Then she had an encounter with Jesus at the well and experienced His power. She used her experiences of Pain, Prison, and Power as her Platform from which she could share her testimony. This allowed her to live her Purpose.

I don’t know about you, but I struggled for nearly sixty years trying to figure out what my purpose is in this life. I hadn’t done a very good job being a wife until my third marriage. I didn’t feel I had been a very good mother, although I tried and I did the best I could with the knowledge and experiences I possessed at the time. It wasn’t till I lost Mr. Virgo and spent three months in the wilderness and backroads of Colorado that I discovered my purpose is to love. To accomplish this, I have built this new life from the ashes of who I was before the fires of grief changed me.

The pastor used an example of someone who has turned her pain into her platform. At seven years old, Gabriella has had more pain than you can imagine. After a diagnosis of leukemia, it has been this innocent child who teaches the doctors and nurses…and, anyone in earshot, really…about Jesus. She comforts her mother when she worries about her and says “Don’t worry…God’s got this!” As they were taking her into surgery to place the port for chemo, this brave little girl only said three words but she said them over and over for two hours before they wheeled her into the OR. “In Jesus’ name…In Jesus’ name…In Jesus’ name.” When the folks from the Make a Wish Foundation contacted Gabs and her parents to find out her wish, she couldn’t think of what to ask for. She didn’t need anything. Finally, after weeks of contemplation, she decided last Saturday what she wanted. She wanted to preach at Red Rocks Church. So, yesterday, this beautiful little angel…just a wisp of a thing in her flower halo…bravely marched out onto the stage in front of hundreds of strangers. She held her notes in one hand, the microphone in the other, and she told us about her friend, Jesus. And how He holds us in the palm of his hand. She said we don’t need to be afraid because when she was afraid before her chemo, it was Jesus who comforted her. She said that was why she had wanted to be “bapatized”…because she loved Jesus. I’m telling you…that was the most powerful service I have ever attended. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place and I was so grateful to have been in the front row to witness it live.

The rest of the day was beautiful. We drove up to the top of Mt. Evans after church. At 14,134 feet elevation, we were quite literally in the clouds. After the power of witnessing the faith of that child, standing on top of the world seemed almost inconsequential. Afterward, we went to Central City for supper and to wait out the Sunday evening traffic returning to Denver. By the time we were back and told our stories of the day to our family, we were spent. Yes, some Mondays I just have to take you to church. This was one. ❤️

“And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.” ‭‭John‬ ‭14:13-14‬ ‭NIV

#Jesus, #wisdom, #faith

Road Trip: Day Nineteen..."The Long Slog"

Tue, 25 Jul 2017 01:55:06 -0600

“Eula Faye” is my F-150…a beauty for sure, but she lacks guts. As I figured, climbing these mountains pulling TOW-Wanda was brutal and pushed her to her limits. I watched fearfully as the transmission temperature steadily climbed, maxing out at 232 degree. I immediately moved off the side of the highway and let her cool back down to her baseline of 194 before starting again. Consequently, it was a very long drive to our campsite on the Western Slope. It was 94 degrees when we unhooked at 3:00. I went in to start the air conditioner to start cooling off the camper when It wouldn’t work…again. It just so happens, we are camping 27 miles from the RV dealer where I bought this camper so I immediately called to see if they were open. We drove straight over and arrived 15 minutes before closing time. We took the old thermostat with us and they ordered us the replacement part. It will arrive by noon today.

I don’t like to say bad things about a business because they could just be having an off day or maybe here was a miscommunication. As we left town yesterday, we stopped at Camper World to get a replacement thermostat as they are a Starcraft Dealer. There were three men behind the parts counter and I got three different answers. The general consensus was the part is obsolete. I couldn’t imagine that to be true as this is a 2015 camper. The young guy went back in the back and brought a thermostat us and said, “This will work.” I looked at the thermostat and back at him. My thermostat has a six wire harness. The one he brought up was nine. When I pointed this out he said, “Just don’t hook up three of them.” Right. I ignored him and turned to the one closest to me who was at least tying to help me by looking up the actual part number. Then he told me it wasn’t in his computer so it must be obsolete. I asked him if the company who manufactured the thermostat had a replacement part number. He had no idea how to contact them. Finally, I excused myself, spent fifteen minutes researching on Google and found the approved replacement thermostat from RVUpgrades.com. I did buy two padded club chairs that are much more comfortable than the ones I bought last winter. Then I left.

Hopefully the new part from the dealer on the Western Slope will work and we’ll have the AC back. Fortunately, the temperature cooled off enough to made sleeping more comfortable, and it is supposed to cool off later in the week.

We took my brother to dinner last night. It was so, so good to see him! We’ll visit again today. I know this isn’t a profound and insightful post. My trip posts are just there to let you know what I’m up to, places I think you might be interested in, and the wonderful people I meet along the way. Like Rick…the helpful hardware man at Ace. Rick has been following Marshmallow Ranch for at least two years. When I pulled into the neighborhood Ace store yesterday to top off my propane tanks, Rick came out to help me and greet me with a great big hug! He was so excited to meet Mr. FixIt. We stood and visited for quite some time. When I came back out from paying for the propane, he asked if he could pray with us for safety for our trip and blessings for our relationship. I went to the truck and got Mr. Fixit and we stood right there in the parking lot of the Ace Hardware and prayed together. It was very touching. So, even though the truck struggled, even though the AC wouldn’t work, even though it was hot and sticky trying to sleep…I let it all roll off me like water off a duck’s back. Blessings abound! ❤️

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭18:20‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Eighteen..."Fort Collins"

Mon, 24 Jul 2017 01:55:53 -0600

Located sixty-five miles north of Denver, Fort Collins is a bustling college town with plenty to see and do. Shopping, restaurants and abundant recreational opportunities will keep you occupied for days. We gathered as a family to cheer on our oldest grandchild as she competed in the State Swim Meet. She did very well, carving time off her personal bests. Her greatest competition is herself. She is humble and hard working. It was a joy and honor to attend and watch the young woman she is becoming.

We all stayed in the Historic Timnath Hotel located just across I-25 in the little village of Timnath. Now a private residence, this lovely building has been lovingly restored and was quite comfortable to stay in and cook our meals. You can rent it on Air B&B. I am so grateful to have such a loving extended family. We especially enjoyed sitting out on the balcony talking till late as we enjoyed the cool of the evening.

Last night, the rest of the family came over and fifteen of us celebrated the 88th birthday of the matriarch of the family. It was such a delight! Today we head to the mountains for a week of camping. I’m a little nervous about pulling the camper up real mountains with this truck. I’ll feel much better when I get this first day behind me. We need to stop at Camping World and buy a new thermostat for the air conditioner. It has become unreliable. I did manage to get it to work by using a can of compressed air to clean out any dust and dirt that has accumulated on the switch contacts. But there is nothing worse than arriving at a campground in the heat of July or August only to discover the AC isn’t working. Better to just fix it.

I hope you have a Happy Monday! ❤️

“You’ll travel safely, you’ll neither tire nor trip. You’ll take afternoon naps without a worry, you’ll enjoy a good night’s sleep. No need to panic over alarms or surprises, or predictions that doomsday’s just around the corner, Because GOD will be right there with you; he’ll keep you safe and sound.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3:23-26‬ ‭MSG‬‬

Road Trip: Day Sixteen..."Tour Director"

Sat, 22 Jul 2017 01:55:38 -0600

I get the biggest kick out of showing people places they’ve never seen…especially when it’s a place I love so much. Colorado was my home for forty years and it’s truly spectacular. Mr. FixIt has never been here so I’m having a blast watching him explore. Yesterday we went up to Rocky Mountain National Park. We no sooner got there till the skies opened up and a major thunderstorm blew in. I pulled into the parking area at Sheep Lake and turned off the engine. Mr. FixIt asked what we were looking at. I pointed up high in the mountains and said, “See that lightning? That’s where we’re going. I’m going to wait till it breaks up a bit.” He looked up at the high peaks and I could read a lot on his face. “Cool!” “Man, that’s high!” “I’ve got the coolest girlfriend on the planet!” Well, ok…I could be projecting that last part. lol

Once the storm let up a little, we proceeded on through the park and turned right to go up Old Fall River Road. To me, that’s the only way to approach Trail Ridge Road from the east. We drove past the site where the flash flood several years ago brought down an alluvial fan for the record books. Shortly after the falls at the fan, you jog to the right and start up the mountain on a narrow, single lane dirt road with no guard rails. Majesty comes into view at every turn, be it waterfalls or sheer drop offs, abundant wildlife or above-treeline vistas. Mr. FixIt said his neck hurt from flipping his head back and forth trying to take it all in. The road is seven-and-a-half miles long and with all the stops and pulling over to let the faster cars by, it took five hours. But, that included a stop for coffee at the restaurant at the top of Trail Ridge Road. It was 49 degrees and really windy at the top. You seriously feel like you’re on top of the world up there. Mr. FixIt was beside himself!

We are staying with my kids, grandkids, and son-in-law’s parents in a historic hotel and have the whole place to ourselves. We got back in time last night to grill burgers and have salad and corn on the cob. Summer is such a wonderful time of year. Mr. FixIt kept thanking me all day for showing him such a good time. It is so incredibly sweet when you’re on the happy side of life, isn’t it? To be appreciated…and told so??? What a gift that we get to give away to each other! Life is so good! ❤️

“In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭95:4‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Fifteen "Focus"

Fri, 21 Jul 2017 01:55:09 -0600

Moose

I am in my fifth year writing this blog. The original page was intended to showcase art jewelry I was making out of antique silverware and maps. Then Mr. Virgo died and it morphed into a grief blog. I dealt solely with the monumental task of putting one foot in front of the other and surviving that horrid loss. In an effort to cope, I put something joyful in front of me in the form of a small camper and a group of spunky women who liked to travel and have adventures. The focus gradually shifted from the darkness of death to the possibility of living after loss and eventually I started breathing again. With each stage of grief, with each right of passage, with each new thing, the focus of my writing has shifted to accommodate the change du jour.

A reader commented yesterday that my site has “lost its focus”. I had to sit down and give myself a good self-examination. For what seemed like an eternity, the only thing I could talk about was pain and death and grief and darkness. Thank God that’s not the focus of all my writing any more. It means I’m healing. So, what IS the “focus of my site”? Trailers, camping, travel, Girl Campers and Sisters on the Fly? Not entirely. My family in Colorado and West Virginia? Somewhat. The farm and the cats? Sometimes. God and how He has touched my life and moved mountains? Much of the time. My writing is all of these things and more. I’m part storyteller, part preacher, part analyst, part therapist. I’m part comedienne, part realist, part widow, part mom. Because that’s what life is…it’s 10,000 things all at once so I write about the 10,000 things and try to make some sense of it all. Because out there…somewhere out there is a widow that’s hurting, a wife who was left, a child who was molested. And somewhere in here is a story that just might help one of them, whether it seems unfocused or not.

While the subject matter of my blog has indeed varied over the years, my focus has not. My focus is to help people in any way I can. To be of service. To quote John Keats, “Love is my religion…”. I will admit, writer’s block has me occasionally writing diary-like posts a la Bridget Jones. And this new, wild and wonderful love story I’ve got going on here is distracting, to say the least. I take constructive criticism to heart and I will try to write more focused essays in the future. I have no problem hearing constructive criticism. We all have room for improvement. ❤️

“Whoever heeds life-giving correction will be at home among the wise.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭15:31‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Road Trip: Day Fourteen..."My Person"

Thu, 20 Jul 2017 01:55:37 -0600

I’ve been holding my breath for months now. I wanted to talk to you about it, but I couldn’t. It was really complicated and it was scary and it had to do with Mr. FixIt and I hadn’t told you about him yet. I was still trying to figure out how to introduce a new character into our little story here without changing the dynamic so much that you ran away in droves. Come to find out, I needn’t have worried about that. Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive of my new love and I am so grateful. So, now I can tell you the other half of the story.

Mr. FixIt and I hadn’t been seeing each other romantically very long when he had an annual physical and some blood tests came back abnormal. The doctor wanted to wait three months and then repeat the lab work and this time it was even worse. He referred us to a specialist and Mr. FixIt had a series of tests. One of the possible diagnoses was leukemia. My heart both sank through the floor and jumped out of my chest. This was my biggest fear…that I would fall in love with this wonderful man and be over-the-moon happy only to have him get sick and die on me. Leukemia. Just thinking the word made me physically ill. And Mr. FixIt was flat out devastated that he just found happiness and the rug could get pulled out from under us. He hated that this scared me to death. It scared him, too.

He had a bone marrow biopsy and after waiting three weeks, we finally heard the news we had been praying for. It is NOT leukemia! Thank you, Jesus! That’s the good news. The bad news is we still don’t know exactly what it is, because there IS something going on. But our doctor contacted the specialist at West Virginia University and they both agreed to watch and wait six months and repeat the tests then.

I let out my breath. This man has become so important to me. He has stolen my heart. We’ve known each other since we were kids. We’ve always been great friends. That came first. But to fall in love, to open my heart again and to love so deeply after the profound loss of Mr. Virgo…only to lose again? I couldn’t bear the thought. I prayed…fervently. I asked others to pray…unspoken prayers, specific prayers, prayers for healing. “Please, don’t let it be cancer!” “Please heal him.” “If he’s sick, let it be something easily controlled and non-life threatening.” Denying. Bargaining. In his favor, Mr. FixIt is extremely healthy, walks 5-6 miles a day, has purposefully lost sixty pounds, and eats a healthy diet. I can’t help but think, whatever this is, it can’t be too awfully bad or he wouldn’t be this healthy. So I’ll breathe. I will relax a little. I didn’t realize how wound up I was till I heard the doctor on the other end of the line in our phone conference Tuesday.

And now, my sweetheart is here with me! Oh…standing in the greeting area of DIA yesterday, my heart leapt with joy when I saw this handsome man, this lean and lanky guy with the graying red hair, my best friend in the whole wide world coming up the escalator! I could hardly wait to get a hold of him. Our good news of the day before underlining the poignancy of the moment. What would I have done? What if it would have been the worst case scenario? It is not unreasonable for my widow-mind to go there because I’ve been there before. Well…I’ve had a little time to think about those “what ifs”. And I’ll tell you what. Our love is long term. Platonic for the majority of our lives…romantic for only the last few months. It doesn’t matter. When you love someone, and you are dealt a blow, there is only one thing to do…you just hold hands and walk into the fire. Together.

We are grateful we have each other at this time in our lives. We celebrate this wonderful chance at love. We thank God for his bountiful blessings. We put our trust in Him for He has plans for us. ❤️

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭29:11-14‬ ‭NIV

Road Trip: Day Thirteen..."In Him"

Wed, 19 Jul 2017 01:55:30 -0600

The phone dinged. I had a text.

“Are you awake?”

7:30am on vacation. A Tuesday.

“Yes!”

“I have to bring the van back and pick up my car and I’m stopping at Starbucks. You want something?”

OMGosh! I love this woman…daughter or not.

“Yes, please!!!”

Daughter #1 is a busy woman. Even though she is technically “off” on summer break, her oldest is on swim team and practices eight times a week. She’s helping her BFF remodel a kitchen. She carts her youngest to this camp or that. She took a whole passel of kids to a concert Monday night. She’s organizing a cleaning a house that is a challenge. She’s always ready at the drop of a hat to be someplace, help someone, do something. And yesterday morning, that something was to curl up on the twin bed in my slide out, coffee in hand, for an hour and a half of uninterrupted conversation with her mom.

I miss this. I miss my babies and their activities. Big grew five inches since I was here at Christmas. Little at least two. Their hair is long, their knowledge increased, braces are gone. At the same time, I’ve found peace and love on a farm in West Virginia and I can’t imagine not living there right now. So, I continue to come here twice a year, summer and Christmas. I did suggest perhaps next summer everyone can come visit us!

I met one of my Sisters on the Fly friends for lunch and walked around the mall for some exercise. I heard on the news yesterday that it was something like the 23rd day in a row of 90 degrees or above here in Colorado. At least it’s a dry heat. It’s much easier to exercise in the mall than outside. It turned out to be another wonderful day.

I have learned that when I am in the Word…when I am God-centric…when I am Faith-focused…I have peace. A peace that surpasses all understanding. This is supernatural. This is standing in Grace. This is Joy. I am so grateful. ❤️

““I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”” ‭‭John‬ ‭16:33‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Fill 'er Up

Tue, 22 Nov 2016 02:30:23 -0600

“Get your tank filled.”

Borrowing from part of Sunday’s sermon, I’m going to run with this. I took the Ford in to get the oil changed and new brakes and asked them to check the engine. It had been running a little rough, I thought. After carefully checking it over, they determined I probably got a bad batch of gas and it would work itself out. I usually buy the lowest grade unless I’m towing my camper. That’s when I put high test in it…when I need to make sure it runs well and has the most energy.

Our bodies are like that F-150 engine. If we put crappy food in it, it isn’t going to perform at its best. You’ll be sluggish. The better your food intake, the more you can accomplish in your life.

We need to feed our spirits in the same way. If you don’t feed your soul with “happy”, you can’t possibly reflect that back into the world. That doesn’t mean all sadness can be rectified with a big dose of happy…it can’t. But, you can ask my daughters. The first trip out after Mr. Virgo died…even before the funeral…I made them take me to Target and I bought every funny movie I could find in the $5 bin because I knew I was going to need that. We went home, popped popcorn, and had a comedy marathon. It helped tremendously to bring some normalcy into a distinctly abnormal, tragic situation.

Just like using a computer, “garbage in, garbage out” is relevant in so many areas of our lives. But we have to make choices. I know it’s not as simple as that, but putting joyful things in front of you goes a long way to helping lighten the load of grief. ❤️

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” James‬ ‭1:2-3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

The Nest

Mon, 21 Nov 2016 02:30:02 -0600

“A bird’s nest from the farm.”

One late fall day, I was walking down the long drive to get the mail and paper when I noticed an abandoned nest in the ditch. I’m not familiar enough to know what kind of bird made it although it is lined with mud. I know swallows do that. I picked up the little nest and sat it on the end of the old wooden ironing board I use as a perch for the cats and there it sat. That is, until I “decorated” for the holidays. I thought it looked better sitting beside the old hunting boots I found in a barrel downstairs.

One of the joys of living out on the farm is the vast number and variety of birds here. I could hardly wait to put out bird feeders. I have them situated so I can see them from the rocking chair in the front window. They remind me of a verse in the Bible that tells us not to worry about getting the things we need because if God provides for the sparrow, he will certainly provide for us. Everything a bird needs is found in nature. Our added efforts to draw them in with extra food only baits them for our viewing pleasure. But, even though God gives the worm, he doesn’t provide room service. The birds still have to get out every day and forage for sustenance. They have to work for their blessings…they just don’t worry about it. Good advice.

God has buckets of blessings with our name on them. They are the blessings HE wants for us…not our selfish requests. HE wants to prosper us, but on HIS terms…not ours. I can’t just sit here in the rocking chair and wait for UPS to hand deliver my blessings. I have to suit up and show up. I have to prepare myself through prayer and meditation. I have to treat my body like the temple it is with proper food and activity. I have to maintain my health. For me, personally…I have to be in the Word every day. I have to practice all three parts of Matthew 7:7…ask, seek, and knock. The action words. When I “ask”, I ask for the blessings HE wants to give me. When I “seek”, I ask how I can best serve HIM, not the other way around. And when I “knock”, I beg God to open the door to His heart and shower me with the abundance HE has in mind. That is how I “work for my supper”. He feeds my spirit AND my life.

So, just as the bird must work for the blessing of food, so do I. I am grateful for the beauty…and the bounty…in my life. ❤️

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:26‬ ‭NIV‬‬

First Snow

Sun, 20 Nov 2016 02:30:10 -0600

“Snowflake”

This is a big turning point in the year…the first snowflakes. They excite us. The holidays are coming. The turkey is probably thawing in your fridge. You are making your menu. You’ve shopped for the food. You’ve pulled out the recipes. You’ve invited family and friends. The games are scheduled. The marching bands will be descending on New York City any day. The workers are preparing the floats and the giant balloons. Deer season is starting. And here they are…the first flakes of snow.

I was standing in the Cook’s Store in Marietta after lunch yesterday when I overheard a couple talking about a bundt pan. The man admitted he used his as a water bowl for his dog. I tried not to show them I had overheard, but I was shaking as I laughed silently. I couldn’t help it. The look of horror on the face of the woman with him was classic! They noticed me and suddenly we were all having a grand, knee-slapping laugh. It was fun. It released a lot of stress to interact with total strangers with abandon. No agenda. We chatted a while then went on our way.

I moved to the la Cruset display in the front window and saw a beautiful red tea pot. I look out the window and caught the first snowflakes of the season. I could hear the tea kettle whistle in my imagination so I brought that little red teapot to the little red farmhouse. We will have many lovely moments together.

I lay in bed in the pale flickering candlelight and heard the icy snow hit the dry leaves with the same sound of sizzling bacon and wondered if it will amount to much. How will it affect my drive to church tomorrow? The first flakes of snow. The harbinger of change.

Winter.

May she come in peace. ❤️

“He says to the snow, ‘Fall on the earth,’ and to the rain shower, ‘Be a mighty downpour.’ So that everyone he has made may know his work, he stops all people from their labor.” Job‬ ‭37:6-7‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Make Love, Not War

Sat, 05 Mar 2016 02:30:31 -0600

The angry, hateful rhetoric being slung around like a bunch of schoolyard bullies continues to dismay me. And it makes me wonder...where are the hippies? Where are the pacifists, the tree huggers, the flower children? I want them back. I want them to protest. I want them to stand up and say, "No...we won't take this!" I want them to put flowers into the weapons that are destroying us!

Where are they? What happened to Flower Power? We fought for something. We stood up for our rights. Everyone seems so complacent anymore. I have nothing to say about who you vote for. It is your right to choose in this country. But I do have to ask you...BEG you to exercise your right to vote. It's an important right that was hard fought for.

I wanted to be a hippie but my mom wouldn't let me. Wanda Belle would have tanned my hide if I acted like a "wild nelly". I know every generation thinks the world is going to h$&@ in a hand basket, but we've never seen anything like this. I want the peace freaks back.

What do you all think? Where did they go?

✌️❤️?

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
Matthew 5:9 NIV

The Granny Girls

Sun, 31 Jan 2016 02:30:34 -0600

We're 18. The only problem is, you can't see that 18 year old because she's stuck inside this 62 year old body. She's in there...though I have to admit, there are days when she does a darned good job of hiding. And...speaking of hiding, she's got a wicked sense of humor because she's always hiding things from me. She's particularly fond of hiding my glasses and my car keys, although she HAS been known to hide the whole danged CAR from me after I've taken her on one of her favorite outings....shopping at the mall. Oh, she LOVES that! She keeps trying to squeeze my butt into HER size jeans and that either makes me laugh or makes me cry or pisses me off. It depends where we are with our hormones. Sigh.

We like to go hang out with our girlfriends. You can just about guarantee she's going to show up at that event. She's so funny. She snorts when she laughs and doesn't care that it makes me pee a little. She loves to tell stories and make her friends laugh till THEY pee a little, too! We promise each other we'll always be there...just like we did 45 years ago.

Just look at these beautiful eighteen year olds! They're so wise and wonderful. Sassy and sensuous. Silly and brilliant and adventurous. Loving and loyal and so full of life. It was a perfect day. Lord, let us stay just like this...for as long as we can. Oh, our knees ache a little, and maybe some of us need hearing aids, and Lynn had a heart attack and Rhonda's not recovered from her last surgery so she couldn't come....but, please Lord, let us be 18 as long as we can. Just look at us! We're perfect!!!

❤️

“So then, banish anxiety from your heart and cast off the troubles of your body, for youth and vigor are meaningless.”
Ecclesiastes 11:10 NIV

God Moments

Mon, 30 Nov 2015 02:30:57 -0600

I've had more God moments since Mr. Virgo died than I've ever had in my life. Well, that I've ever RECOGNIZED in my life. I was sitting in church yesterday, enjoying the Christmas carols, watching 30 or so sweet little children singing along. My mind wandered to my post yesterday and thinking about new beginnings...new traditions. It isn't easy to let go of so much at once like you and I have done. We want to hang on to everything. And maybe that works for some. We all grieve in our own ways. For me, if I try to keep and do everything the same, it only seems to accentuate the missing link...my sweet man. I don't want to change everything. I just want a little breathing room from the sadness that runs like the annoying background hum of an aging refrigerator. You can never get away from it if you focus on the sound.

These were the thoughts racing through my head as I began to settle in and pay attention. At the end of the musical worship, the lights dimmed and two members of the congregation came out and performed a skit. A young man was on the phone apologizing to his wife that he's not going to make it home for Christmas. The airport was closed due to weather. In walked an older woman and he told her all the flights were cancelled. She sat down and told him she's on her way to her son's in Tampa. She used to make this trip with her husband but she lost him this year. Her first Christmas without him. Tears stung my eyes. Not so much from the pain of losing Mr. Virgo, but more because of the sweet way the Holy Spirit comes and sits with me and whispers to my heart, "You're not alone."

The young man put his hand over hers, offered her his condolences and said, "You're not alone."

I smiled.

I love when this happens. It's so comforting. Because...I'm NOT alone. I'll never, ever be truly alone again.

❤️

“The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life.”
Job 33:4 NIV

The Ugly Side of Grief

Sat, 12 Sep 2015 01:30:00 -0600

I've always told you I would be brutally honest about this roller coaster ride from hell. While I would love to tell you an uplifting story today with a good moral at the end, I can't sit here and blow sunshine up your skirt. This hasn't been a great few days. A lot has come into play...9/11, missing my CO family (why can't we just combine the two states???), trailer lag, new time zone, coming down off my travel high, and Mr. Virgo's birthday. His 65th. That was big. Well, it was GOING to be big. I mean, I'm ok...really. But, dammit...this sucks. This sucks in a big way. This sucks and sucks and sucks sometimes. I haven't gotten around to seeing everyone since I got back and I feel bad about that. A friend and her family went out on the boat yesterday and I was SO looking forward to it but when it came time to go I got anxious and fretful and freaked out at not "being in control of my surroundings" and backed out at the last second. Then I spent the next two hours looking at the pictures they were posting and kicking myself for not going and berating myself.

But...it's ok. It's ok sometimes to have a nutty and drop out for a few days. It's ok to listen to your body and your mind and your spirit and say, "You know what? I'm not up for this today. I'll check back in with you when I'm feeling up to it." It's perfectly ok to park your butt wherever you need to park it, WHENever you need it parked, and you don't owe anyone an apology or an explanation. Those who don't understand or aren't behind you 100% aren't your tribe anyway. Grief is unpredictable. As it turned out, it was a good thing I was home. My friend had left her little dog in the outdoor run and he pulled a "Houdini". I heard him barking and thought they were home from boating I went out to greet them and there was Jack, the little escape artist, bounding like a gazelle through the field heading straight for the guy running the corn harvester! I dropped down and called him and he happily changed direction to come get his belly rubbed.

Naughty boy!

So, it all turned out for the best. There will be other boating opportunities and other days of feeling like a million bucks. I'm grateful to my sister/friend Patty for helping me remember self-care is not self-indulgent...it's imperative.

❤️

"Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophecy when the council of elders laid their hands on you. Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress. Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers."
1 Timothy 4:14-16

Ebb and Flow

Sat, 15 Aug 2015 01:30:12 -0600

One of our fellow "Ranchers" lost her husband two weeks ago and it caused me to pause and remember where I was two and a half years ago. My heart aches for her because, even though grief is an individual thing, I have a good understanding of where she is emotionally. I was so lost back then. At two weeks, I was in Denver staying with my son-in-law's parents. They are as much family to me as my own flesh and blood. I spent as much time as I could with my kids and grandkids but other than knowing logistically that I was there, I have very, very little memory of it. I bought my first little camper that week because instinctively I knew I needed to put something joyful in front of me or I wasn't going to survive this. I was numb for so long.

I cannot tell you when the lowest ebb occurred. There were so many dark times that they all seemed to run together. I had a close friendship with a guy from high school and, God bless him...he would stay on the phone with me for hours while I wailed. Hours. I have a brother/friend who would come to my house at 3:00 in the morning and sit with me till dawn...in my trailer out front...because I could not sleep in my house. One night I couldn't stop crying and it scared me. I went on Facebook and waited till someone...ANYONE I knew came online in chat. My friend Deb was the first one on and I sent a text ...

"Deb?" She sent a text back..."Call me...right now!" She had lost a husband. She understood. I walked Main Street of my small town going from shop to shop so I could get hugs from people I knew. I stood at Mr. Virgo's grave and threw my head back and wailed like a wounded animal...it was so primal and guttural, it shocked me. I drove all over the place, pulling TOW-Wanda....trying to outrun my fear and pain. And, at some point...it started to turn. Little by little, the good days started to outweigh the bad until I could breathe again.

I thank God I had this page to turn to. You were my outlet. My sounding board. Part diversion, part immersion therapy. And always my support. Always, always showing me unconditional love. Oh, there were people who "unliked" the page...there still are occasionally. But for every one that leaves, there are more who arrive and the numbers continue to build. Increasing numbers, in and of itself, is not my goal. My goal is for this page to be a safe haven, a beacon in the dark....a lighthouse. I pray every day before I write and I ask God to give me the words to say. And the flip side of that is to bring the readers who need the message.

Our new "Rancher" came here at her friend's suggestion because of her interest in camping. But once she arrived, she felt there was maybe a different reason God had sent her to us. There are so many hurting people in the world. There are so many who grieve over loss in its many forms. I am often asked if a post can be shared. My answer is always...unequivocally...yes! Please, please share Marshmallow Ranch with someone who needs lifting up. I consider this my mission in life...to serve and aid those who suffer the pain of loss.

I can never say thank you enough for all you give me here. You are truly gifts to me and it is my privilege to write for you.

❤️

"The Lord announces the word, and the women who proclaim it are a mighty throng:".
Psalm 68:11

Namaste

Tue, 30 Jun 2015 01:30:00 -0600

At the end of yoga practice, you put your hands together in a prayer pose, bow to the others in the room, and say "Namaste". It means, "The divine in me honors the divine in you." You recognize the similarities between you, not the differences. There are no colors. There are no lines in the sand. There are no differences in dogma. Only the sameness of the divine spark that lives within each of us. For me, that divine spark is God. If someone else calls this spark of life by a different name, if they follow a different path, it is not my place to judge them. It is my place to love them.

The same goes for differences in choices of who to love, who to marry, who to have children with if children are desired. The same goes for political orientation. I do not judge you. I love you. All of you. And, isn't that what Jesus preached? And Mohammed? And Gandhi? And Mother Theresa? Isn't that what we all want…to love and be loved? To be at peace with one another? The world is a dangerous place right now. There is so much turmoil, so much anger, so much hatred, so much confusion. Issues have come up that we had hoped were long ago put to rest. In the words of Rodney King…"Can't we all just get along?"

I make it a point not to discuss politics and the extent of my online discussion of religion is done here on the Ranch in my profession of faith, and my inclusion of Scriptures that underscore my topic of the day. I bring my thoughts to you from a place of love. I don't have an agenda other than peace and love. And that is what I wish for you today…every day. Peace and love. Namaste. Amen.

❤

"They dress the wound of my people as though it were not serious. ‘Peace, peace,’ they say, when there is no peace."
Jeremiah 6:14

Grace

Fri, 08 May 2015 01:30:00 -0600

My word of the year…grace. I revisit it daily. I ponder. Am I living a life filled with grace? Am I exemplifying God's grace in my interactions with people? Am I searching for those moments where I can practice grace?

Life is full right now. I'm extremely busy wrapping things up here in West Virginia yet all I want to do is go out and play and enjoy the weather…the countryside…my friends. However, I've made commitments. To myself…to sort through my belongings and get the last of my things organized and distributed, either stored in my camper, donated, tossed or given to those who will love them as much as I did. To my aunt…as I promised my things would be gone by the first of June. To a friends of mine…that I wouldn't leave my stuff in her storage area in front of the things she needs access to. (Fail! She had to move some of my stuff yesterday and I felt bad I wasn't there to do it.)

Another area I am practicing grace is in my interactions with a couple of people who haven't been particularly gracious with me lately. Taking the high road is not necessarily easy, but it feels better in the end.

One place I can always sit quietly and feel God's grace is looking at this view of the river. I mean…how can you question the existence of a Higher Power when you're looking at this beauty? It's so peaceful and still. When there is no wind, the surface of the water is like glass. The current carries its energy through the valley and fills you with its strength. It is ever present, ever moving, ever changing. The light varies by the minute and nothing is the same from evening to evening. This is where I feel closest to God. This is where I feel grace. I will miss the river this summer.

❤

"Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage." Psalm 84:5

Letting Go

Wed, 06 May 2015 08:30:00 -0600

This has been my life song for the last couple of years. I have let go of so much since Mr. Virgo died…him being the biggest, baddest let go ever. My big house has been exchanged for a home on wheels. My material possessions are getting fewer and fewer even as we speak. My expectations have totally been changed. Even my faith has changed in that it has become stronger. I do a pretty fair job flying my own kite, yet I have a very real tendency to want to hold onto the tail…to maintain some semblance of control.

I have always been a control freak. I like to drive my own car to events so I can leave when I want. I hate to make commitments because I may change my mind or not be in the mood when the event comes. I like to have the last word in arguments. Yeah…not real pretty characteristics, those. So, I hang onto the tail of that kite so I can direct it's flight and send it where I want it to go. Then I wonder why things don't work out the way I planned.

I want my kite to fly high. I want it to soar on the winds of change with ease and grace. Have you ever tried to fly a kite without a tail? It won't work. It spins crazily out of control and crashes to the ground with the littlest breeze. Mr. Virgo was the tail on my kite. He kept me from flying in circles and crashing. I've had to find a replacement. There is no better choice for me than letting God be the tail of my kite…then letting go so He can steer my life where it's meant to go. It's really ever so much better. Perhaps not easy, but better.

❤

"By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going."
Hebrews 11:8

And the Grief Goes On

Sun, 01 Mar 2015 02:30:00 -0600

I went out with friends last night for dinner and live music. My life is so totally different now than it was when Mr. Virgo was alive. We didn't go out much. We didn't socialize. We stuck together like glue, I think because I knew instinctively that I wouldn't have him forever. A friend of mine is a widow and she said she and her husband were the same way. She had to find a whole set of friends for support. Coming here was good for me because I had an instant set of friends from high school and I've met some really great people. I am blessed with wonderful friends.

I am much more comfortable being myself without concern what others might think anymore. I laugh louder. I dance with wild abandon. Part is age, part is the freedom to do so.

I love my late husband with all my heart. I miss him with the white heat of the sun. The 12th is coming. The two year Angelversary. It's not going to be an easy couple of weeks Please bear with me.

❤

"You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. Lord my God, I will praise you forever."
Psalm 30:11-12

Fifty Shades of White

Sun, 15 Feb 2015 02:30:00 -0600

I have no interest in the movie with Mr. Grey. I also have no interest in what's been going on outside my camper. Is it too much to ask for a little green? Maybe some crickets? While moving back into my camper has helped me feel less cooped up, I'm longing for a little color in my world! Soon, soon. At least it's warm in here!

One thing I have quickly discovered is I'm going to have to modify my internet usage on my phone. I am used to unlimited wifi access and you can really use up your data quickly on a cellphone! I upgraded last week to an iPhone 6 Plus. My vision has deteriorated to the point where I am having trouble seeing the screen on the regular phone. Aging isn't for sissies. This is more like a tablet and works well for my daily writing. I remember when I bought our first home computer back in the late '80s. The guy told me someday there would be computers thousands of times more powerful than this huge box I was buying and women would carry them in their purse. Get out! I scoffed. I am a gear head. I love my electronic gadgets and this one is pretty darned handy!

❤

"He changes times and seasons; he deposes kings and raises up others. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning."
Daniel 2:21 NIV

Time of Reflection

Mon, 12 Jan 2015 02:30:00 -0600

I love Sunday. I get to go to Church. I didn't always go. As a matter of fact, I was a good Jewish wife and mother for 27 years. I was frightened out of believing when I was a very young child. I followed the "Church of Ginny" for a number of years until I had a roommate who was Jewish. I started following the holidays and traditions because I loved the sense of family it gave me. I loved God. But I had a fear of Jesus after that scary preacher yelled at me and told me I was going to go to hell. I was six. So, with Judaism, I could have a relationship with God and leave it at that.

I met and married a nice Jewish man. We had a nice Jewish house and celebrated all the Jewish holidays. But there was something missing. I had an emptiness inside that I couldn't fill with anything…no matter how hard I tried. Finally, five years after my divorce from this still nice Jewish man…I found Jesus. And my world literally was recreated. I was recreated. I changed instantly. I found my happy place.

I've been Church hunting since I came to West Virginia. I have attended the church of my youth…my grandparent's little country church. I visited a Baptist church with a praise team which was decidedly more contemporary than anything else around here but still pretty tame compared to the throw-your-hands-up-in-the-air kind of worship I have become accustomed to in the churches I attend in Colorado. I visited a lovely Methodist church with friends and saw some classmates there. And the past two Sundays, I attended services at a beautiful Methodist church in the historic district. My mom's cousin is the associate Pastor there and she invited me to come hear her sermon.

Yesterday was the Sunday celebrating the Baptism of Christ. Having grown up in a little country church and after attending contemporary churches, I felt a bit like a fish out of water. There are more rituals in the Methodist church than I remember. It was a lovely service, however. I sat and smiled as I watched and listened to my cousin speak about the "Something More" we are always seeking. I smiled because I remember her as a very young mother attending the little white church on the hill and now here she was in black robes, standing in the pulpit, delivering a sermon in a big stone church with stained glass windows. We both had humble beginnings. We both are widows. We share genes. We share a love for God.

Toward the end of the service, we were invited to come forward to the baptismal font to have the sign of the cross placed on our foreheads with water from the Jordan River, the river in which Jesus was baptized by his cousin John. My cousin, Sue, did the honors. It was a lovely experience for me. I knelt before the pulpit for a bit…without thought of what I would say to God. Instead of many words, I merely felt the warmth of the moment…smiled…and whispered "Thank You." Sometimes just that is the greatest of prayers.

❤

Painting is entitled "Baptism of the Lord" by Guido Reni

Resolutions

Wed, 31 Dec 2014 02:30:00 -0600

I don't like resolutions. They represent change and, as a widow, I've had just about all of that I can stomach, thank you very kindly. "The only thing in life you CAN count on is change." "Change is good." "If you don't change, the view will remain the same." Trite platitudes, at best. Besides that, how do I know what I'm going to want to be doing in August? I don't know what I want to do TOMORROW let alone set myself up for the inevitable failure of another ill conceived resolution. I prefer to choose a word to focus on instead of resolving to change even more things in my life.

Losing Mr. Virgo was the tip of the iceberg. The trickle-down theory of grief fallout is the gift that won't stop giving…like a tub overflowing on the second floor and you can't pull the plug or stop the flow of water. Surprise! Your life will change in ways you never could have imagined. Bam! Smack! Splash!

I made a huge leap of faith this year. I sold my house. I sold or gave away practically everything I owned. I left my family and friends to come home to care for my aunt. And totally secondary to that, I came home to say goodbye to the family farm. I had it pictured. Awesome antiques. A great garden. Chickens. Rain on the tin roof. Idyllic. Iconic. A fairy tale life. Then…change.

The thing is, I had expectations. I had a script. I had a plan. I just assumed God had the same thing in mind for me. This change, while unpleasant, is not necessarily a bad thing. If my storybook scenario would have played out exactly as I had it in my mind, then the final goodbye to this farm would have been devastating. It would have left me bereft, yearning for something I am not destined to have in the long run. As it turns out, the reality of the situation has allowed me to view the farm (and my aunt, as it turns out) from a practical, realistic vantage point and not through the rose colored lens of nostalgia. I can see the warts, so to speak. This is not a bad thing. The timetable just got moved up, that's all. Change. It's slippery. Sneaky. It can take away so much, so fast. But it can also give such beautiful gifts if you don't cower in fear. If you face the winds of change head on, the fog gets blown away and you can see so much further.

So here's my word for 2015.

Grace…an attribute of God. "The love and mercy given to us by God because God desires us to have it, not because of anything we have done to earn it." I resolve to face the coming year, with all of its changes, all of its challenges, all of its surprises with grace.

Grace. I love that.

Thank you for all your posts and excellent insights you've shared this year. Everyone benefits when you post, share, and interact with each other. You are all incredibly brave and strong and beautiful. Thank you so much for traveling along with me. Your love and support have helped me more than you will ever know! May each of you face the changes of the upcoming year with grace…in good health and prosperity.

Happy New Year!

Ginny

❤

The Gift

Tue, 23 Dec 2014 02:30:00 -0600

Christmas was big in our house. Mr. Virgo listened…to every little gasp at something beautiful that caught my eye. To every little "Darn it…I wish I had _, it would make this job so much easier." To every shiver in the cold or gaze through a shop window…he listened, and watched, and waited. He hid things…in his sock drawer, in his briefcase, in his cowboy boot on the back of the top shelf. Boxes arrived and I was forbidden entry to his closet for a month. He listened…and he planned…and he schemed. And when the time came to open presents, he sat with eager anticipation…not for what HE was going to get. No…he wanted to see the look on my face when I opened…the…perfect…present. He never disappointed. Well, ok…there WAS the year he gave me a flintlock rifle because he thought it would look good hanging over the TV, but I've long since forgiven him for that. ;-) He spoiled me rotten. He indulged me. And I miss that. Not the "stuff". I mean, if I really wanted something, I would find a way to get it. That's not the issue. I miss the production, the anticipation, the execution of the surprise. I miss the attention. I miss the love.

I have people who love me. I have people who buy me things and they are sweet and tender and the thought that someone has gone out of their way to give me a gift is touching. I have a friend who sends me a little something from Tiffany every year because he knows my heart races when I see that blue box. I get portraits of my grandchildren. I get Starbucks gift cards and lunch or dinner (or both) out. I get cards and hugs. And I am grateful. I am blessed.

Still…nothing compares to the Ghost of Christmas Past. I need to change my focus or I'll just keep missing what I do not have. So, this year I have compiled a list of gifts I am going to give myself this Christmas.

Time. This year, same as last, I'm giving myself the gift of time. Time to heal. Time to take care of myself. Time to learn and grow and change. Grief is not linear. It is not finite. It is an ongoing process that takes attention and I will give myself time.
Love. I will love myself tenderly and be gentle with my spirit. It has been wounded and it needs to be loved back to health. I will love Jesus with renewed intention as He is my Rock, my Healer, my Savior in all things. I will love my family and my friends because they are my cheerleaders, my support, my haven.
Health. I will take better care of myself and honor the body I have been given to carry me around in. I will walk. I will set and meet goals. I will live and breathe and feel every moment of my life.
Permission. I will give myself permission to live freely, to love with abandon, to learn with passion, to break through barriers that hold me back from being fully present in each moment.
Forgiveness. I will give myself the gift of forgiveness. For not being perfect. For not being skinny or athletic. For not using sunscreen or flossing regularly. For being short tempered when I've been tired. For a million little things that keep me too occupied with what has already happened to allow me to truly be open to the opportunities life throws at me every day.
An Open Heart. I will renew my vow to keep my heart wide open, even when I feel it may be in danger of getting stepped on, or tripped over. I will take care of it, surely. But I will not be afraid to love again.
Compassion. For myself. For others. For the world.

Seven gifts. One for each day of the week. Gifts that I can rotate and keep giving myself over and over and over. I won't have to take them back…they're just the right size. And if I keep giving myself these gifts, I'll have such an abundance of time, love, health, permission, forgiveness, heart, and compassion that the surplus will just overflow and splash all over everyone around me.

It is not selfish to give yourself such gifts. This is a difficult time of year. High self-expectations lead to stress and disappointment. We are overextended…physically, mentally, emotionally, financially. Add the stress of grief to that and you have a recipe for disaster. Give yourself the gift of self care.

You cannot water a garden if your well is dry. Fill it up!

❤

Spread Love

Wed, 10 Dec 2014 02:30:00 -0600

'Tis the season. Just about everyone has the warm fuzzies at this time of year. Carols being played everywhere you go bring back memories of past holidays. Cards, cookies, gifts…the very air sparkles with hope and love. Families travel to share the most precious gift…time…with their loved ones.

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy Holidays! It doesn't matter which holiday you are celebrating this time of year, there's lots of love and light flowing around. I would love to see these same feelings of brotherly love, of mutual respect, of loving kindness spread rampant every day of the year, wouldn't you?

Let's start a wave…a king sized, ginormous, tsunami-sized wave of love. And let's send it out into the world every day. Every single day. Aim to improve at least one person's day with a smile and a loving gesture. If you touch just one person a day, you will have touched 365 lives by this time next year. Think about that as you go about your business and ask yourself…"How can I lift up the world today?"

❤

Just Beneath

Thu, 13 Nov 2014 02:30:12 -0600

“The grief switch is just beneath the surface.”

The switch is just beneath the surface. Say the wrong thing…hear the wrong song…and it doesn’t matter where you are, the tears can come unbidden. The other night my friend and I were chatting and got a little too close to her switch. She had to excuse herself. I felt bad because it was during our conversation, but it wasn’t my fault. It’s nobody’s fault when the tears of grief come. They just come. They are as easily triggered by a dog food commercial as they are by finding a love letter. There’s no rhyme or reason. And it doesn’t matter where you are either. Tears come in the shower, driving, seeing a sunset, or….walking down an aisle at the hardware store. The hardware store? Yes.

I was walking through Lowe’s on Veteran’s Day. The music playing was patriotic. John Philip Sousa marches. Hail to the Chief. Military songs. Peppy. Patriotic feel-good music. Then…Taps. Mr. Virgo was a veteran and they played Taps and there was a gun salute at his funeral. When the handsome young soldier knelt before me and handed me the flag from Mr. Virgo’s coffin and thanked me “On behalf of the President…” I was a puddle. I ducked in the power tool aisle, hoping no one would see me crying in Lowe’s. The next song floored me. In the middle of all these patriotic songs, “Fields of Gold” came on the PA. And not Sting’s version. It was Eva Cassidy. When Mr. Virgo and I were first dating, I burned a CD of some beautiful love songs and played them when he would come to my place for dinner. We later referred to that CD as our “falling in love soundtrack”. This version of “Fields of Gold” was on that CD. My heart overflowed as much as my eyes did. He still sends me messages. He still lets me know he’s with me. And I thank him and let him know I’m fine…really. It was just that switch, just beneath the surface, got flipped a little. <3

God Moments

Sun, 09 Nov 2014 02:30:52 -0600

“God Moments”

Something happens. A moment out of the ordinary. The moment when you know in your gut that what just happened had God written all over it. This is part of what I was talking about the other day when we discussed listening to your heart. When you are in tune…aligned with the energies of your Higher Power…you will notice more and more God moments. I had just such a moment yesterday and it was amazing.

I had stayed overnight with one cousin and met up with another cousin yesterday morning. We headed out for a day of craft fairs, lunch out at a little bistro, and finally dinner out with some of their friends. The first show was full of vendors from Origami Owl to Avon, Thirty-One to Tupperware. Suzy introduced me to a number of her friends since she lives in the area. The Thirty-One booth was back in the corner. If you aren’t familiar with Thirty-One, they are a faith-based company that sells canvas bags, pouches, purses and organizers. I was immediately drawn to the young lady running her booth, and her business, with a light hearted style that was so engaging. She and I clicked in an instant. Suzy told her about my recent journey across the country pulling my camper. Jen admired the fact that I did this alone and revealed her own interest in renovating trailers. I told her about Sisters on the Fly. Turns out she lives in the same county as me. Coincidence #2? I told her about losing Mr. Virgo.

Jen choked up and asked, “Do you mind me asking how old you are?”

“I’ll be 62 in June.”

She started crying and told me that she was going to a memorial service in a few hours for the only friend she had ever had that was older than her. Her friend was 62. I wrapped her in my arms and said, “Come here, baby girl. I’m going to be your friend.”

We both need friends. God put us right where we needed to be so we could meet. This happens over and over to me. Far too often to be a mere coincidence. I love these God moments. And Jen, I’m looking forward to getting to know you better and talking trailer renovation.

That Still, Small Voice

Tue, 04 Nov 2014 02:30:57 -0600

“Listen with your heart.”

You’ve heard it. If not…you’ve felt it. That still, small voice that guides you. That gut instinct that cautions you. That “sixth sense”, “intuition”, “inner compass” that we all have. Listening to that Voice with my heart is a skill I crave to learn. All too often, I look back and recall hearing, but not heeding, the directions that were subtly handed down. For me, it is the Holy Spirit guiding me. And I’m stubborn. I want to do it my way. I don’t like to be “told what to do.”

There are times that I can recall where it wasn’t just a gut instinct, a “feeling” I shouldn’t do something. I recall on those occasions hearing a voice…actually HEARING it, as if someone were standing right next to me. It made me jump. It was disconcerting, to say the least. I mean, we aren’t supposed to be hearing voices. But I heard it, nonetheless.

Once was when Hubby #2 was in medical school. We had been arguing about something. Med school is stressful and we argued. Too much. I was sitting on the edge of our bed, crying, when a voice very clearly said to me, “Don’t worry…you’ll be happy when you’re 52.” Excuse me? Who said that? And what do you mean “when you’re 52”? I’m 30!!! Besides, I wasn’t necessarily UNhappy. At least, not that I was aware of at the time. Interestingly, I met (and fell madly in love with) Mr. Virgo when I was…52. Hmmmmm.

Another time was when I was a smoker. I was going to sleep one night and clearly heard a voice say “You have to quit. And I mean right now. Not one more.” I would love to say I listened then but nicotine addiction is more powerful than heroin, so I have heard. But I did eventually so I hope it wasn’t too late.

Once I was looking at my retirement account and was very pleased by the return that month when the same darned voice said “Get out. Now!” “Oh, no…..I did NOT just hear that! This was the best month EVER!” Yeah. You remember when the market crashed in ‘08? Uh-huh. Didn’t listen then either. Darn it.

So what does this Voice have to do to get our attention? Would I have listened if perhaps I had heard a fanfare of trumpets? Was I waiting for a neon sign perhaps? Maybe a peppy rendition of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”? How about a clap of thunder and a booming voice? I don’t think that’s how God works. When a child is having a temper tantrum or not hearing you, does raising your voice help? No. What usually works is squatting down at eye level and whispering. It throws them off guard. They have to strain to hear so they get quiet themselves. I think God whispers to us because we are so darned loud, so busy with whatever we are enamored with at the moment. He wants us to shut up and listen. He wants us to sit and be still and hear what He’s trying to say. Because He’s saying a lot. He’s talking to us all the time.

The sweetest sound in the world is…the Voice of God. Even if you call that Voice your “woman’s intuition”, learn to be still and really hear it. Listen with your heart.

An Ordinary Life

Sun, 02 Nov 2014 02:30:28 -0600

“Once in a while in an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.”

I have had extraordinary moments in an otherwise ordinary life. I’m no different than anyone else. You would be hard pressed to find anything, short of my children, that has made a lasting impact on this world. Yet, I am unlike anyone else. I am unique. As are you. You were created with a specific purpose…a specific goal to achieve in this life. I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent the better part of 61 years trying to pinpoint just what that purpose is exactly. The pinnacle of existentialism…why am I here?

It took a long time to figure it out, but here it is. The bottom line is, I am here to be happy. Before you go off thinking how self centered that is, let me elaborate. I chose to marry and bring children into the world. Therefore, it was my duty to take care of them when they were growing up. I didn’t do the best job of that because I was not happy with my marriage and my life in general. Had I focused on my own happiness a bit more, I would have been a better wife and mother and could have avoided a great deal of pain on everyone’s part. It is my duty as a Christian and as a citizen of the human race to take care of my fellow man and to feed the hungry and clothe the poor. The Bible says we are to give with a cheerful heart. Therefore, we have to find our happy place and plant our feet in that fertile ground in order to give our best.

So, where do we find our happy place? It is deep within…sometimes hidden in a box covered with locks garnered from life’s hurts. There is only one key to open that box and that is love. Love of self opens our hearts to love others. Love of a power greater than ourselves opens our souls to a love greater than anything imaginable. Once I found (and believed) I was lovable, my heart opened to allow that fairytale love to come in. Right smack dab in the middle of my ordinary life.

We are precious. We are small and ordinary and wild and wonderful. And we are loved. Don’t forget that. <3

The Auction

Mon, 27 Oct 2014 01:30:49 -0600

“My Green and White Quilt”

I cannot pass up a good quilt. Well, ok….I COULD pass up a good quilt. And sometimes I CAN pass up a good quilt, but yesterday was not that day. Oh, this one is so pretty! I love two color quilts and this is beautifully hand-pieced and hand-quilted with remarkable feathered wreath medallions in the white squares. It’s a double, it only has a couple of tiny stains along one edge and no wear. AND…I got it for $75! Oh, I love a good quilt, and a good auction, and a good bargain!

When I was a little girl, my grandma had a quilt frame and I remember her and some neighbor women sitting around it here in the dining room, quilting and talking, and laughing. That must have been such a luxury to the farm women of those days…to sit together and stitch awhile and talk. Grandma would make me wash my hands and would thread the needle for me and guide my little hands to make the stitches. She used to tell me as an adult that she couldn’t stitch a straight line and she finally gave up and tied all of her quilts. I don’t know that there are any of hers left as her quilts were utilitarian and made to be used till they fell apart. I do have one blanket that’s on my bed in the trailer that she sewed a binding onto pre-quilted fabric and gave to me. I have the apron she made for me when I was little and would help her make lunch for the workers when the strawberries were being picked for market. I also have two pillow covers she made. I left her treadle sewing machine in Denver for my daughter to leave to her daughters. I love the circle of life. The continuity of stories, skills, family.

My uncle and aunt came yesterday. He is patching the roof and installing a gas heating stove for us. I bought a small barrel shaped coin bank at the auction yesterday and he was enamored with it. It presented the same puzzle to him as it did to me which prompted me to buy it. It was a giveaway from Union National Bank of Sistersville, WV. And…it is locked. And…there is no key. It’s full of coins. And there’s folding money that you can see through the coin slot. But we can’t get into it. He tried to make a key but didn’t have the proper tools here so he’s going to make a key at home and send it to me. I love a mystery! There could be really great coins and a hundred dollar bill in it. Or there could be a dollar bill and a couple bucks in change. The only difference is the story! And you know me well….the only thing I love more than a mystery is a really great story! <3

Rose Colored Glasses

Sun, 26 Oct 2014 01:30:34 -0600

“Rose Colored Glasses”

My mom always used to chastise me for looking at the world through rose colored glasses, as if that was a bad thing. I have always looked for the positive in every situation, no matter how dim or dark. When there are trials, looking for the silver lining isn’t always easy, but it can make a world of difference in how well you cope. And when life is good? Well, those rose colored glasses just absolutely rock your ensemble, girlfriend!

I can’t believe I got to the delightfully rich age of 61 without ever going to a “Sing”. Now, y’all from the hills and the country, and the hollers, and the south, and the mountains are gonna know what I’m talking about. You drive down a country road and there’s a hand-painted sandwich board sign out in front of a little country church or a community building reading “Sing Tonight. 6:00”. If you’ve never gone….please, whatever you do…pull over and go in. You might be regaled with a couple of hours of old timey Gospel music where everyone sings along. Or, you might just get the treat of your life and get to listen to three hours of nonstop bluegrass of the purest variety like I did last night. From “Nelly”, the lead singer, nattily dressed in her western skirt and vest, easily in her 80’s to “Junior”, just 15 and picking up where these amazingly talented country folk are going to leave off…a talented young man who can play guitar, bass, and “rip up a banjo”, so his grandpa told me though I didn’t have the pleasure of hearing that. I was thrilled, mesmerized, and honored beyond belief to sit in the community building down the road a piece from my new home, to be introduced around to the neighbors and family of family as the “little gal who drove a 24’ trailer…BY HERSELF…ALL THE WAY FROM COLORADO…SO SHE CAN TAKE CARE OF HER AUNT, BLESS HER HEART”… to buying a slice (or two) of my aunt’s famous Lemon Pie, and to hear the sounds of my youth, transporting me back to those Saturday nights on the farm, listening to Dolly Parton and Porter Waggoner, Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, and then…the piece de resistance…the Grand Old Opry. Girls… I was in heaven. Last night was so very, very rich….my rose colored glasses are fogging up a bit!

And what’s on the agenda today? An auction, of course!!! Can it get any better than this??? <3

One State Away!!!

Thu, 16 Oct 2014 01:30:33 -0600

“One State Away!!!”

It’s hard to see on that sign, but it says OHIO. And what’s after Ohio???? Why, WV, of course!!!

I was so proud of myself yesterday morning. I got the truck backed up and it didn’t take more than 2 or 3 tries to get it lined up with the hitch. I had the trailer hooked up in no time!!!

I arrived at my friend’s house at noon, just north of Dayton. Cindy and I met in 1974. We were Air Force wives, young and newly married. I was pregnant with my first and Cindy organized a baby shower for me. She contacted my family back home and had them send me presents. When we sat down to open gifts, she made sure I opened my family’s gifts first and when I saw the tags, I just cried. It was so touching and indicative of the kind, caring friend she has turned out to be over the last 40 years. We were remarking last evening how military friendships are deeper than most. When you are stationed so far away from home, you make your friends your family. What a treat it is to see her. I’m amazed…neither one of us have changed a bit!

Today I head to an RV dealer to get the trailer checked for that leak and have it winterized. Then I’ll have one more camp out night before I head to WV. I don’t want to be driving out in the country after dark in this rig. OMGosh! I’m almost there!!! <3

Hey, That Turtle is Beating Me!

Wed, 15 Oct 2014 01:30:43 -0600

“OLD RV!”

Ok, I’ve been taking my sweet time crawling across America. I’d love to say I’ve meandered down cute little two lane highways, stopping in interesting little villages along the way to sample the local color. I’d love to say I stopped in quaint little orchards to sample cider, bob for apples, and take my chances with the ring toss and try to win one of Fannie Arbuckle’s world famous Apple Pies. I wish I had arm loads of darling antiques and bolts of fabulous cloth for the precious little curtains I’m sure to make for the trailer. Maybe even a jar of homemade apple butter from the Farmer’s Market where Art Froderburg whittles the Statue of Liberty on the head of matchsticks. But, alas….this is not the trip I had. I have seen I-70. Since I picked up my trailer eight days ago. I-70, I-270, I-470….are you getting where I’m coming from here? I’ve seen trucks. The backs of truck, the fronts of trucks, the sides of trucks. I’ve seen the blur of cars as they pass me like I’m in a funeral procession. My only score on this trip was a Chapstick in a truck stop. I know the price of gas all the way across the country. I got to visit some dear friends because they had the foresight to live near I-70. I’ve seen some really nice RV Parks. I got to stay in a hotel one night to avoid my own personal re telling of the Wizard of Oz.

Ok, it hasn’t been the magical, mystery tour I had hoped it would be. But I actually unhooked my trailer all by myself. I figured out where rain was coming in and fixed it, albeit temporarily with camo duct tape! I met some fellow road warriors who were very nice. I met my FB friend and some new Sisters on the Fly. I played in my playhouse. I started reading a great book that was a gift from a friend. I Facetimed with my grandchildren. I stopped and took naps when I wanted. I cooked what I wanted. I had great coffee every morning that didn’t cost $5 a cup. I’ve enjoyed the changes in the weather and the colors. I’ve told a lot of people about Mr. Virgo and my book and Marshmallow Ranch. I’ve shared my love of God by example. I am rested, relaxed, full, happy. I am free. <3

And...I'm off!!!!!!!

Wed, 08 Oct 2014 01:30:44 -0600

“On the road with TOW-Wanda Grande!”

I can’t believe this day is here! I’m taking my time crossing the country this time. One of my Sisters on the Fly friends told me to pay the $50/day storage fee for my stuff when it gets to WV and take an extra week coming across. Good advice, Lisa!

My mom died ten years ago and I made three round trips between CO and WV that year…by myself. I also brought my brother to CO from WV via Disney World! I came cross country the last time with a 17’ U-Haul towing my Toyota on a car hauler. I slept in the cab of that truck! This is total luxury having my house with me.

I’ll keep you up to date on my travels but I won’t divulge specific locations real time for safety reasons. (You’re welcome, Patty et al!). <3

Perfection!

Tue, 07 Oct 2014 01:30:37 -0600

“Saying Goodbye to Little TOW-Wanda. This makes me a little sad!”

I had a perfectly smooth day yesterday. I almost didn’t know how to act! I went to Columbine Ford in Rifle first thing. (Ask for Brandun Weeden and tell him I sent you!!!) I had called him on Friday when I was at a Ford dealer in Denver. I told him what I was looking at, and what they were offering, and asked if he could do better. He said he could and he didn’t disappoint! I got a year newer vehicle, with 30,000 less miles on it, with a 36 month extended warranty for about $4,000 less than I expected! Sweet! The only thing is, the truck doesn’t have nav or a back up camera. But I can deal with that. Thanks, Brandun!

Then I went to the trailer place and lo and behold…the trailer wasn’t in the lot! The part came in, she works perfectly!!! And, look who I saw peeking around the corner while I was waiting. Little TOW-Wanda. It’s as though she knew I’d be there today and she came to say goodbye. (Ok, they were winterizing her, but it makes a great story. I’m all about the story!)

I picked up the trailer and immediately hit the road. Got to Denver about a half hour after dark. OMGosh! That truck pulled TOW-Wanda Grande like she weighed nothing. Awesome job!

I wanted to get on the road today but my oldest wants me to stay another day so she can see my trailer. And, I’ll go help her get her classroom together so that should be fun. She has been asked to open a special ed center in a grade school that doesn’t have one so she has accepted the challenge. Besides, another day of rest can’t hurt anyone! I’ll get there soon enough…at least this delay is MY choice! <3

Patience

Tue, 30 Sep 2014 01:30:38 -0600

“The Gift”

Yesterday was a cold and rainy day. When I say cold, it was predicted to get down to 37 degrees. That’s getting too cold for me! If my house would have closed with the original contract, I would have been in WV and settled by now. But everything happens for a reason. The second contract was better, smoother, and with wonderful people. My neighbors feel like they’ve won the lottery! And, I think they have!

I was hoping the part that is needed for the trailer could be shipped overnight. Apparently it couldn’t…at least not this night. I will have to say, the people at the dealership where I bought this trailer have been on the phone several times today, trying to get this fixed. Hopefully they will get the part in Wednesday and I can be on my way. Remember what I said about everything happening for a reason? With this colder weather here today, there is snow in the high country and I might have been trying to drive through it today or tomorrow. The weather is supposed to warm up by Wednesday and Thursday. Much better for traveling.

So, this is what I’m taking away from the situation. I’m supposed to take advantage of the next couple of days and rest, write, read, sleep, fiddle with where I want things in the trailer and organize it even better, try out the oven, cook on the stovetop, go into town and get a massage, visit with more friends, and….did I say rest? Ah, yes…this is not an inconvenience…this is a gift!

Jeez-o-Pete!

Sat, 27 Sep 2014 01:30:10 -0600

“Belonging”

The U-Pack trailer was finally dropped off at 5:00 yesterday afternoon. My fabulous neighbors emptied all the plastic tubs into boxes so they would pack tighter while I emptied the trailer of all the items it took ten people to stuff in it Wednesday. Then three guys packed the semi while us gals went to buy dinner. OMGosh! They got everything in 5 linear feet of space in that trailer…it was amazing! I have very little in my car and TOW-Wanda Grande is packed like a house with just the things I’ll need for housekeeping. However…now the slide won’t go out! It worked fine at the lot. But now the motor on the left works but not the right. I took it in but it was too late in the day. They can squeeze me in at noon today and they will have a two hour window to diagnose and fix it. They have no time available Monday so if it can’t be fixed tomorrow, it may be Tuesday or Wednesday before I get out of here. Go figure! On the plus side, my sister-in-law got in from Salt Lake last night!

When I was going through a really difficult time in my life, I began doing daily meditation to cope with the stress. It was no more than most women cope with…children, husbands, dog, house, bills. But I didn’t have a great set of tools in my toolbox to help me get through it. My learned set of skills for coping was alcohol (handed down from dad) and pills (handed down from mom). One day I was meditating and I had a clear vision. In this vision, I was in Glenwood Canyon, standing in the middle of the Colorado River in June at the peak of runoff. I was facing upstream and the river was rushing past me in a death defying whirl of whitewater that nailed me to the spot in terror. It was all going too fast and I needed to slow things down but I couldn’t. I spread my arms out wide and tried with all my might to hold back the mighty force of the river but I could not. I was exhausted. I was terrified. And I was sure I would die. Then I remembered what they taught me the first time I went whitewater rafting. If you fall out of the boat, don’t get caught underneath it. Kick away and turn around. Point your feet downstream, sit back, and let the river take you along with it. In my meditation, I leaned back into the mighty arms of the river and let it carry me away. The stress literally melted away from life every time I mediated on leaning back into the force and letting it carry me. I think this is why I do so well when all this life stuff keeps rising up and threatens to sink me. I’ll have none of that. Life is too short to spend it trying to control everything. And the view is much prettier looking forward! <3

The Unbroken Circle

Sun, 14 Sep 2014 01:30:06 -0600

“Mr. Virgo’s Grave”

Two weeks after Mr. Virgo died, I bought TOW-Wanda…my little travel trailer. For those of you who are relatively new here, you may not know, my husband, aka Mr. Virgo, and I were standing in a travel trailer picking one out when he had a heart attack and died in March 2013. I needed to put something joyful in front of me or I wasn’t going to make it. TOW-Wanda to the rescue! Once the weather warmed up, I took off for three months and traveled alone to start walking through my grief journey. Everywhere I went, I picked up a rock to bring home to place around Mr. Virgo’s grave. When I got home, I took them up to the cemetery and told him about the places I had seen and what I had done and placed each rock next to the one before.

Somewhere in the summer of 2013, a thought began to formulate. I had a feeling that things would be a lot better by the time the circle was complete. Sometimes I forgot to bring back a rock so I would pick up one from a pile nearby. But, one by one, bit by bit, the rocks made their way around the grave and…on his birthday, just two days shy of 18 months…the circle was complete. It was whole. Just as I am whole. Different, yes. Still wounded? Of course. But I’m good. I’m strong. I feel joy. I live life. I miss him like crazy and I’m ok alone. Dichotomy.

I have a dear friend named Vicky. Vicky is a grief counselor and a widow of seven years. She is a wise woman and very skilled at what she does. She has this amazing way about her that provokes you to look at the tough stuff without holding your feet to the fire. She can ask one question and eliminate a couple of hours of tap dancing around. I love her for that. Last night she pointed out that we categorize and organize our pain in order to make sense of the senseless. She is so on point there. It’s like running your emotions through the Dewey Decimal System and assigning a number for this and filing it there. It’s crazy but it keeps us sane. And now I’ve reached a benchmark…a milestone…a point of reference to be looked back upon as a turning point. I can move forward a little easier now. When the house is closed, the papers are signed, and I have the check in my hand…I will be free. I will owe no one a single thing. Then, I will be a true bohemian!

Cough. Sniffle. Wheeze.

Wed, 10 Sep 2014 01:30:17 -0600

“Cough. Sniffle. Wheeze.”

I had so much fun camping last weekend with the Sisters on the Fly. One of our participants had a “little cold”. I got home late Sunday night. By Monday evening, I had a tickle in my throat and a polite little cough. And now? Now I can’t breathe through my nose, I ache all over, my nose is running like a sugar tree, I’m coughing my head off, and I have a fever. AND I’m feeling pretty darned sorry for myself, to boot because it’s Mr. Virgo’s birthday and I don’t have anyone to sing to or to have bring me chicken soup. But, as they say, misery loves company. There are now five of us from the trip that are sick with the same thing. Total bummer. However, it is forcing me to stop and get some rest. So, I suppose that’s the upside.

Cough. Sniffle. Wheeze.

Scales Lie

Tue, 09 Sep 2014 01:30:44 -0600

“Scales Lie”

Well, they tell you the truth about gravitational pull, plus or minus a bit unless you have an expensive scale. But your typical bathroom model is going to eat you for lunch and spit you out if you go near it. We have long, long ago been indoctrinated that the number you see on this magic box is directly and irrevocably tied to your worth in the world. We’ve been told that less is more. That thin is in. That boys don’t go out with fat girls. That fat girls are somehow “less than” their thin, willowy counterparts. I’ve got news for you…just in case you are reading this and you are under oh, say…55 years old. Other than for health reasons, you are perfect with your curves and your comfy tummy. The other day, a dear friend of mine made a comment how good I looked. In his well meaning way, he said, “You’ve lost a ton of weight.” which to full figured women translates to “You were looking really bad…I’m SO glad you got a grip on that tire you were carrying around!” Why do we DO that to ourselves? Why do we let others do it to us? I will tell you what he was noticing though. I went to Victoria’s Secret and got fitted for the absolutely PERFECT bra and now the girls get the attention and not my beautiful hips!

I’ve been stress eating all summer. I’ve been working hard lifting boxes and furniture so my loving friends are pointing out that muscle weighs more than fat. Aren’t they precious…bless their hearts. But I haven’t been bench pressing the sofa. I’ve been indulging in WAY too much ice cream and WAY too many trips to McDonald’s in a desperate attempt to keep my kitchen clean. I can’t remember the last time I dug into a plate of veggies or a great salad. My latest cholesterol results shocked my doctor into a change in medication. I know it’s temporary. There isn’t a McDonald’s within 30 miles of the farm and I’m going to be cooking for my aunt. She doesn’t like much meat and that will help me trim back. Also, I just love walking out the country road from the farm so it won’t be long and I’ll be back to my fighting weight. But I’ll never be without my curves. They are just a part of me that I’ve come to know and love.

In the meantime through, I’m not apologizing for those curves. Just like I’m not going to apologize that I have too many crowns and I don’t floss enough. Or that I would rather sleep in my trailer than in a house….ANY house. It’s just me and who and what I am…take it or leave it. I don’t look away from the mirror when I walk by…I say “Hello, gorgeous!” And mean it!

Don’t let anyone talk smack about your best friend…and don’t you do it either. You ARE your best friend and you are beautiful!

Comparison

Mon, 08 Sep 2014 01:30:35 -0600

I love this!

Dr. Kristin Shepherd

September 8, 2014 ·

Comparison is the thief of joy. Best, then, to fall in love with yourself as you are here and now. Your life, your path, your challenges, your particular beauty.

This is a much cleaner energy than suffering what is, wishing you were somewhere else, pining over what used to be, envying that other life.

Radiance comes from being here, now.

Hope this serves. Love.

Oh, How Times Change

Tue, 02 Sep 2014 01:30:45 -0600

“Commemorative Photo of 40”

Ok, who had a boudoir photo taken? They were all the rage in the ’90s. I had to have one! Partially because I’m such an….ummm, extrovert! But also because at any given moment, we are the youngest we will ever be. This was taken when I was turning 40. I wanted to memorialize that static moment in my life when everything was perfect. My marriage, my family. My body, my hair. I was in the best shape of my life. My little girl was 4. My big girl was 20. I remember lovely afternoons stitching with my girlfriends, not a care in the world. Planning dinner parties was a monumentous occasion. This was before the ravages of depression and Prozac took away my youth. My ex-husband kept this photo on the wall in his office. It was the Camelot years.

Then everything changed. I had three major surgeries in less than two years. I didn’t bounce back well. I started down the rabbit hole of depression and didn’t come back for ten years. When I got back, life had gone on without me and my marriage was over. My ex had taken this picture down and put it in a drawer in his desk. I didn’t look like that beautiful woman anymore. I didn’t bathe or get my hair done. I gained a hundred pounds. I lived in shorts and an oversized t-shirt without a bra. Those were the Prozac years. I don’t remember my forties.

The story has a happy ending though. I turned my life around after my ex and I separated. I found my Prince Charming and married him. I had such a beautiful life. That was my fifties. Those were my passionate years.

And now, here I am at the opening credits of a new movie. A new decade. A new era. I am very much at peace. Sure, I suffered a blow. My world literally changed in a heartbeat…or the lack thereof, actually. But I refuse to wear widowhood like sackcloth and ashes. I will not make grief a career path. These are my halcyon years.

I look at this picture and as far as I’m concerned, I still look like this. Ok, my hair is gray (and not permed). Parts of my anatomy have headed south. Things aren’t as tight as they once were. I like to think my inner beauty was so great, it fought to get out and my skin expanded to accommodate all that lusciousness! Look at that picture again. That’s who I am inside. Beautiful. Sultry. Young. Wow!

Happy Labor Day!

Mon, 01 Sep 2014 01:30:21 -0600

“Hello, September!”

I love it when you get the opportunity to correct something right away. I was at church yesterday talking to one of the greeters. I told her how the initial contract fell through and she asked me what happened. I was just about to say something uncomplimentary about the people who walked away from the contract when I turned around and there they were! I had invited them to come since they were just returning to the area after being away for awhile. So, what did I do? I told my friend…“Don’t you just hate it when you want to be bad, but you have to be good?” I excused myself, went up to the couple, welcomed them to New Hope, gave her a warm hug, and told her I really hope they find the perfect house for them. She said she was worried for me because she knew I was in a hurry to get out. I told her there wasn’t a problem because the house was under contract less than 24 hours afterwards. I told her I held no ill will and wish them the very best. And so…there it is. An opportunity taken and it felt good.

I sold my bedroom set, the breakfast table and chairs, and the TV console to my neighbor today. So glad they will have them to enjoy. I also sold the baker’s rack. The gal texted me after she got it home and said it doesn’t fit the space and did I want it back. I told her no so she put it on one of the local swap sites here on FB for $25 more than she paid me for it! Entrepreneurial spirit right there! lol

I had a beautiful day yesterday. After church, I worked on some boxes, played with my neighbor’s dogs, watered my friend’s plants for him, took a short power nap, and met a friend for dinner. I signed up to go with Sisters on the Fly next weekend for a fun camping weekend. Can’t wait…I need a break from packing but more importantly, I’ll get to see my babies! I’m planning a combination Going Away and dual birthday party on the 13th so that will be fun. My sister-in-law is coming from out of state, too. Life is good!

I slept in the house night before last. I didn’t like it. I tried again last night and ended up going out to my trailer at 2:00am. It’s not because of any stirring up of memories or anything bad. I’ve just become so accustomed to sleeping as close to “outside” as I can get without actually sleeping in the open. I love the coziness of TOW-Wanda. The bed is THE most comfortable one I have ever had. I love the window right over my head. I have always been a terribly light sleeper. My doctors put me on a non-narcotic, non-addictive sleep aid years ago. I slept with ear plugs because I could hear a fly dying on the windowsill on the other side of the house. In the last few weeks I have seen a profound change. When I was in WV, I took my sleep aid and popped in my earplugs the first night and almost had a panic attack. What would I do if my aunt needed me and I didn’t hear her or didn’t wake up? So I stopped both. It took three or four nights to get used to it and all of a sudden, I started sleeping better than I can remember. I still have a night here and there where I have trouble getting to sleep but it’s a vast improvement. This is the calm water. This is the time that I cherish. That time between the waves of grief. The waves are farther apart and are often less intense. Feeling the healing…it’s a beautiful thing. <3

Lava Lamps

Tue, 26 Aug 2014 01:30:54 -0600

“Grace”

Those of you from my generation are quite familiar with lava lamps. I have no idea how they work other than the heat melts something and it gets lighter than the fluid surrounding it and it slowly releases a blob and sends it skyward. Grief is like that. This gunk stays solid down beneath the surface till the heat gets cranked up and pretty soon there’s an eruption. Of emotion…energy…tears….fears. It bubbles up and gets dealt with until the next blob of gunk comes up.

It sounds all gooey and yucky and it is when you’re smack dab in the middle of the lamp. It’s hot and decidedly uncomfortable sitting in that mess all the time. But when you step back, you see the light. You see the infinite patterns forming and reforming. You see the beauty of the vessel, doing its thing, ad infinitum. And every once in awhile you have to unplug. You have to just let yourself be cool. It’s the only way to recharge so you can face the next batch of lava, hot from the source, threatening to burn you if you’re not careful. That’s what was happening last week…I was in the hot seat dealing with the lava.

Yesterday was an unplug the lamp kinda day. Mr. Fixit came to do some honey-dos since there’s no honey to do them and I am sorely lacking tools since the great storage unit debacle. I spent a few hours trying to figure out what my furniture is worth. I wrote my rebuttal to the Inspection Objections. I talked to many friends. And I spent a delightful couple of hours walking down memory lane going through a plastic tub I had stored in the crawl space. (I found treasures!!!) I went for an ice cream. And I thanked God for another beautiful day to recharge.

Today would have been my beautiful mother’s 89th birthday. Happy Birthday, Mama! <3

Just He & Me

Mon, 25 Aug 2014 01:30:01 -0600

Dancing. The only time we dance…ever. He lasted half a song. lol

“Our Only Dance”

Sassy after shot.

“Sweet Mr. Virgo and Me”

Perfect

Wed, 20 Aug 2014 01:30:19 -0600

“Being someone’s first love may be great, bot to be their last is beyond perfect.”

People have asked me if I’m worried about Mr. Virgo’s grave being here and me being in West Virginia. I’m really not. I have a lock of his hair and I’m going to find a special place on the farm to bury it in my own private ceremony. I’ll place a marker of some sort and I can go there to talk to him. But, in all honesty, he’s not at either place. He’s in Heaven. And he’s in the hearts of those who knew and loved him and remember him. He is always with me, even though I no longer feel his presence like I did in the months after he died.

I had to have a talk with him during the winter. I have a security system installed in the house. There’s a motion detector in the living room. I went to Denver one weekend and the motion detector went off sending alarms to my phone. Pretty soon, the alarm company called and asked if everything was ok. I told them I didn’t know because I was out of town. They sent a police officer out to check and everything was fine. The next time I went to Denver , the same thing happened. Now, Mr. Virgo would never have said I couldn’t go away without him, but I was certainly aware he didn’t like it. This last alarm sent me a text every three seconds till I went online and made it stop. When I got back home, I sat down in the living room and told him, “Ok. That was really cute how you manipulated the burglar alarm there, sweetheart. You are very clever and it’s so cool to know you’re still here and still have your wicked sense of humor. But, you’ve got to cut this out. For one thing, it scares me. For another, it’s not just me your are bothering… It’s the alarm company and the police and possibly the neighbors. So , honey…cut it out, ok? Find some other way to let me know you’re around.” I never had an alarm after that. :-)

When we fall in love, and a commitment is made, we have no reason to believe it won’t be forever. We take vows to be there till death. But it doesn’t always work that way. Life gets complicated and people change and things don’t always work out the way we planned. Divorce has it’s own kind of grief. When it happened the first time, I was the instigator which changes your perspective and the pain involved. The second was not my idea and it was horrible. I grieved and mourned for close to four years and the pain was exquisite. When Mr. Virgo came along and renewed my faith in love, and in men, he proposed by telling me he wanted to spend every day of the rest of his life with me. In my grief after losing him, I was bereft. I felt as though some major part of me had been amputated. It was devastating. In my Pollyanna-ish fashion, I got to the point where I needed to look for silver linings. I was sitting by the river one day when it occurred to me. “I was his last love. He spent every day of the rest of his life with me!” It made me smile that I could love this man well as he lived the last years of his life. What a gift we were given. What a responsibility to care for and protect that precious gift God gave us. We did it well and that gives me peace.

Sorry

Sat, 16 Aug 2014 01:30:39 -0600

“I’m Sorry”

Don’t you hate it when you hurt someone’s feelings? Someone you really care about? I hate that. I get blinders on sometimes and run like a Bassett hound with my nose to the ground. I’m wagging my tail and feeling all happy and wanting to share it. And I shared it with someone who is going through something really, really horrible. I shared it with exuberance without even considering what my dear friend was going through. Sharing wasn’t the problem. Forgetting to ask how she was doing…that was the problem. I should have been more sensitive. I should have thought of her first. She’s a wonderful person. I think she loves me enough to forgive me. I hope so because I sure hate that I hurt her heart. I’m praying hard for her and her family for peace and healing and comfort. That’s all I can give. That…and love.

Sold!

Thu, 14 Aug 2014 01:30:18 -0600

“Sold!”

Yesssssssss! Sold the house! They will have an inspector come in and once that clears, I’m good to go. September 11th closing. My sweet brother’s birthday is September 12th. I want to have a BIG going away party on the 13th and then I’m out of here!!!!!!! OMGosh! I’m on cloud nine!

(happy dance

Anchors

Mon, 11 Aug 2014 01:30:19 -0600

“Anchors”

While the house was being shown on Saturday, I drove into town for a Starbucks fix. Afterwards, I drove by my ex-husband’s house to see if they were home. I don’t usually drop by unannounced but felt compelled this time. I wanted to share with them what my plans are in WV and spend some time catching up.

There was a time when ours was very much a love/hate relationship. Or, probably more precisely, a love/anger relationship. As with any divorce, there was a lot of this finger-pointing, he said/she said stuff going on for the first few years. Then we both remarried and a sort of truce was reached. We went to the same events without killing each other. We spoke on the phone when necessary without diving back into the dirt. We made progress, slowly but surely, but I wouldn’t necessarily say we were “friends”. Then Mr. Virgo died, and it showed us all just how fragile this thing is. This life that we think will always be there and that there’s time down the road to mend your fences. In essence, my ex and his wife were there for me whenever I needed them, for whatever reason. Several months after Mr. Virgo’s death, we decided to have family holiday dinners together so the kids didn’t have to choose which place to go to first. After Thanksgiving, he and I had a few moments by ourselves and he told me it was ironic that it took a family tragedy to make us realize that we are just that. Family. Non-traditional, eccentric, mixed faith, loving, supportive…with common goals. Health and happiness.

I spent an hour and a half on their front porch, drinking coffee, sharing stories, sharing the love only a family bond can give you. This was a long time coming, this peace. It took a lot of hard work on all of our parts and I am so proud of us. They are anchors in my life.

My prayer during those dark years was always “God, please heal my family.” And, like the loving God He is…He did. <3

On Being Grateful

Wed, 06 Aug 2014 01:30:34 -0600

“On Being Grateful.”

I have an “Attitude of Gratitude”. I always see the glass as full to overflowing. I trust everything is as it should be because I trust God to have my best interests at heart.

My house was shown twice yesterday. My house sends me a text message when someone opens and closes the front door. And, yes…I was mildly perturbed when I saw that whoever was showing the house was in there exactly FOUR minutes. Four minutes! You can’t really see a house in four minutes with any real interest. So, instead of feeling bad, anxious, frustrated…I’m choosing to feel relieved. That person was more than likely NOT my buyer. They had best just move on and not waste anyone’s time.

But man…it’s so hard to let go of the tail of that kite, isn’t it?

A Simple Life

Mon, 04 Aug 2014 01:30:07 -0600

“A Simple Life”

I’m back! Here it is, August 4th already…can you believe it? Those three weeks literally flew by. I’ve missed you all even though I did peek in from time to time. And I am rested, refreshed and rearing to go!

I’m still snuggled up in bed, preparing my mind for the onslaught of civilization. I’m listening to the morning call of a whip-poor-will knowing full well in a few hours I’ll be hustling through busy international airports. I’m not looking forward to it…and I LOVE to fly. I want to pour a cup of coffee and go out on the front porch, the familiar stretchy squeak of the screen door spring the only sound louder than the morning birdsong. I want to see old Mama Kitty curled up in the corner, one eye opened slightly in protest over the crude interruption of her peaceful slumber. I want to listen to whip-poor-wills every day for the rest of my life.

I need to head to Colorado. I need to settle some business. I need to snuggle my babies and spoil them a little bit. I need to do the really big purge and get rid of the things in life that weigh me down. I am so grateful to my son-in-law’s mom for sitting me down and telling me to look at what I want my life to look like and make it that. I will miss my kids and grandkids and my Colorado family like crazy, and I will travel to see them as often as I can. But I also know I need to live where my heart sings…where I can stretch out and be free…where I can own a piece of God’s country. It’s time to go home.

Money will only stretch so far. When you have x-amount of dollars to spend on housing and you have a choice of a repossessed HUD home in a dicey neighborhood or a hundred acre farm, tell me…where would you go? What are you willing to let go of in order to set your heart free and give it wings? How far are you willing to fly?

Mister Bee Potato Chips

Fri, 01 Aug 2014 01:30:45 -0600

“Mr. Bee Potato Chips”

You know those special foods you can only get at “home”? Well, ours are pepperoni rolls, Ruben’s Deli Hot Italian Hoagies, and Mister Bee Potato Chips. My sister/friend Patty in Florida has put in a special request for some Mister Bee’s so off they went in the mail today. While I was at it, I just went ahead and shipped some back to Colorado for the kids…and my brother/friend Greg…and my brother Gary…and, ummmmmmm…ME! :-) I’m going to be somebody’s best friend come Monday!

I can’t believe I fly back to Colorado on Monday. :-( This has gone all too quickly. The only consolation is….I get to see my girls AND it won’t be long till that house sells and I can come back!

Here are some more WV photos!

“West Virginia Cousins!”

Update on the House

Wed, 09 Jul 2014 01:30:50 -0600

“My lovely front porch.”

The house is showing well. People love it. They love the location and the private back yard. The price is no longer a problem. So, why isn’t there an offer yet? Because it doesn’t have air conditioning. Really? It’s Colorado…you only really need AC for about 3.5 hours in July. Except this year. We seem to be unseasonably warm this year. I spent the afternoon strategically placing fans in windows, turning on the ceiling fans, and I have a guy coming over this evening to put the big window AC unit back in the dining room. That ought to make a difference. I’ve also been changing out light bulbs because so many of the lights have to be on for showings. I don’t have a halogen light for the entryway so I’m heading to the store in a bit to get one. Also, I want to refill the air fresheners and put fresh flowers on the dining room table. The flowers on the front porch are divine!

AND, the house is being shown today so send up some prayers that this will be the one!!!

Determination

Sat, 05 Jul 2014 01:30:24 -0600

“Though she be but little…she is fierce.” William Shakespeare

Big strength can show up in small packages. This little girl is much bigger now and she faces competitive swimming with fierce determination. At 10 years old, she takes engineering classes…never letting the thought that she can’t succeed cross her mind. She’s small, but fierce and I admire her greatly. She is my first grandchild. My sweet, smart, fun, determined girl. I felt so bad for her last night. We were watching the fireworks. As a wise 10 year old, she was comforting her little sister and cousin when they were worried the fireworks might fall on their heads. She explained how they explode and burn up before they hit the ground. Not too long afterwards, someone set off a firework in the parking lot near us and sure enough, one of the sparkly bits burned all the way to the ground, shattering her sense of safety. It was painful to watch.

We all experience those moments when we realize our sense of safety has been compromised. Safety comes in many forms…physical, emotional, financial. It is disconcerting when things go out of kilter. We who are walking this grief journey especially like it when things are going along smoothly. We don’t like chaos, instability, or unpredictability. That’s why we get anxious at the thought of losing someone else. We’ve already lost too much.

When I have a wave of grief, it kind of knocks the wind out of my sails and makes me more vulnerable to worry and anxiety. I have to reassure myself that the moment will pass and not catastrophize the situation. It’s not easy because my mind will take off and be ten miles down the road before I know it imagining the worst possible scenarios. It takes a great deal of strength and determination to walk through this fire and I am constantly amazed that I am much, much stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. We all are, even when we think we aren’t.

We may be but little..yet we are fierce.

Road Trip Into the Wild

Mon, 30 Jun 2014 01:30:04 -0600

I saw lots of beautiful, wild places on this last road trip! Here are a couple of photos.

“Wild Hot Springs - Reno, Colorado

It was nearly 100 degrees the day Sue and I stopped here. The water was almost too hot to get into. The spring has been dug out and lined with rocks and cement with a sandy bottom. It is deep enough to get down in up to your neck. It was SO hot, we couldn’t stay in long, but every time we got out, the horseflies came and bit us. It was awful! We didn’t stay there too long. I think it would be wonderful in the winter.

“Climbing into the wilds of Colorado.”

My friend Sue and I went over Red Mountain Pass and caught this long view of the far mountain above tree line. So many vistas look like paintings out west. There is a rare and wild beauty in the wilderness of Colorado.

Writing

Sat, 28 Jun 2014 01:30:50 -0600

“I want to write, but more than that, I want to bring out all kinds of things that lie buried deep in my heart.” Anne Frank

I write every day. Once it became apparent this page was going to be more about my journey than my jewelry, I made a commitment to sit down and think about where I am in the moment and where I am on my journey. I made a commitment to be brutally honest, whether it was pretty or not. So I write…every single day. Except when I know I will be out of cell range. Then I write several days worth of posts ahead of time and schedule one to be published every day that I’m gone. I made a commitment. To you. To myself. I am proud to have this opportunity to share with so many loving, supportive people. I am touched that I have the opportunity to help others on their journey. It’s a blessing.

I will have plenty of time while I’m here to do some serious writing. I also have plenty if time to hang out with my friend and peace mentor and let my inner child out to play. So often in life, our responsibilities make us too serious. They take away all the fun out of life. We have to “make hay when the sun shines” and get outside and play because before we know it, we’ll be shoveling snow wondering where July went!

May you step away from the computer, the TV, the cell phone, the laundry and the chores long enough to go outside and put your bare feet in the grass today. Go ahead…do it! You know you want to!

We’ll catch up later!

Laughter IS the best medicine!

Sun, 22 Jun 2014 01:30:43 -0600

“Laughter really IS the best medicine!”

I am blessed to have good friends who really enjoy making me laugh. Whenever I feel I’m painting myself into a corner, I know I can call these people up…anytime, day or night. The stress of life just melts away. Last night it was watching “When Harry Met Sally” and laughing our butts off even though we had seen the movie many times. Thursday it was a day spent with a dear friend browsing shops and eating our way through two towns. Tonight it was a phone call with my buddy in Florida and laughing about everything whether it was funny or not…simply for the joy of hearing the laughter of the other.

A couple of days after Mr. Virgo died, I went to Target and bought every funny movie I could find in the bargain bin. I knew I was going to need laughter as much as I was going to need tears. Laughter releases endorphins…natures opiates. Those “feel good” hormones that make any pill easier to swallow. They create a sense of euphoria when taken in large doses. They’re “good for what ails ya”, as my grandma used to say. I’ve been blessed with an oversized funny bone. I’ve been known to entertain myself when I can’t sleep by writing stand-up comedy routines instead of counting sheep. Laughter has carried me through my darkest days, and it will continue to do so.

I hope you laugh at the little things, the absurdities of life, the slapstick antics of the people surrounding you. We all deserve to feel good…and make others feel good. Here’s to laughter!

Patience

Sat, 21 Jun 2014 01:30:10 -0600

“Patience”

I have very little of it. I like instant gratification. That’s why I knit with big needles…you can see progress quickly. However, those stitches are awfully loose with big holes in them. The scarf made from big needles may be decorative but the wind will whip right through it. So it just goes to show, patience truly IS a virtue and the results are better and longer lasting.

One week ago, I put my house on the market. It has shown several times. It hasn’t sold. I’m sitting over here drumming my fingers on the table going “Come on, already…buy the darned thing so I can move on with my life!” One week. Seven days. Why am I so impatient? Because, I lost my patience once I got high speed internet. I lost the ability to sit on the porch for hours watching the birds and butterflies when I started working 60 hour weeks. I forgot how to anticipate pleasure when the DVD was invented and I could watch seven years of West Wing in a few weeks.

So, here’s my solution to the angst of wondering when the house will sell (because, honestly…I WILL drive myself bat s#&@ crazy waiting if I don’t resolve to approach it differently!). I’m going to forget I ever bought this house in the first place. I’m going to pretend I am a gypsy and the only home I own is on two wheels and I tow it behind a Ford. I’m going to let go and let God be my real estate agent in charge of sales. It’s not my house anyway. God has just been gracious enough to let me live in it. I’m going to move over and get out of His way. He has big plans for me and when He’s ready for me to take my next big step, He’ll bring the perfect buyer! In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy a beautiful Colorado summer and camp as much as possible, go fishing, roast marshmallows, go to fairs and festivals, listen to live music, eat watermelon, travel to WV to see family and friends….you name it, I’m doing it. Because this is summer. This is my time to have fun. I’m not going to ruin it by worrying about something I have no control over anyway.

Happy 1st Day of Summer, everyone!!!

"Ewe's not fat...ewe's fluffy!"

Fri, 20 Jun 2014 01:30:39 -0600

“Ewe’s not fat…ewe’s just fluffy!”

I swear…ever since I made the decision to sell the house I’ve been eating everything that I normally stay away from. My new rule seems to be “If it’s not nailed down, it’s fair game!”

Stress eating has always been my nemesis. Sweet, salty, and fried things sing a Siren’s song, tempting me and leading me down a familiar path. Comfort foods. Food you don’t need that feeds a monster inside…uncertainty, fear, insecurity. The trouble is, once that monster is awakened, it is NOT easy to cage him again.

I am (almost) past the point of hating my body. Madison Avenue gives us airbrushed images that are simply unattainable. Sometimes the attempt to create an image of the perfect woman results in noticeably poor, often laughable, airbrush technique. I try to find these editing mistakes which divert my attention from my cellulite and big, comfy tummy. I am (almost) to the point of not caring that these bat wings on my arms are nearing the capability of flight

Seriously, I have (almost) licked the negative self-talk. I know this phase is temporary. Things always turn around when the stress monster is forced back in his cage. I know this too shall pass.

Being Alone

Sun, 01 Jun 2014 01:30:18 -0600

“Being Alone”

I am “off the grid” for a few days of R&R with some girlfriends. No water, no electric, no cell service for 30 miles. Bliss!

Today’s post is about becoming comfortable with being alone. Man, this is a tough one. When you are the one who has been left behind, be it through divorce or death, you go through a myriad of emotions and it isn’t pretty.

I ran into a couple of women at Starbuck’s this morning. I’ve known them both for 28 years. One lost her husband about 22 years ago and the other lost hers last month. It was comforting to sit with them and see how far I’ve come (as compared to the newly widowed one) and that I’m going to be fine in the future (as demonstrated by the other one).

I miss Mr. Virgo’s company. And, I’m beginning to enjoy my own. It’s ok to say that. It’s ok to enjoy heading off for a camping trip with the girls and not feel guilty that I’m leaving Mr. Virgo alone at home. It doesn’t mean I love him less. It’s ok that I’m relieved I don’t have to cook every single night if I don’t want to. It doesn’t mean I didn’t love doing it for him. What it means is very simple. It means that I am perfectly capable of loving myself, of entertaining myself, of taking care of myself. This is not only a healthy thing…it makes it more appealing for others to be around me and it offers me new opportunities to get to know more people. It doesn’t mean I’m happy about the circumstances surrounding the cause for being alone. But it is what it is. Mr. Virgo would come back to haunt me if I didn’t move forward.

It has taken me a long time to get to this point. It hasn’t been easy and there are still some potholes in this broken road. We can’t compare our journey to someone else’s. All we can do is lay down at night and say, “Lord, I did my best today. I’ll try again tomorrow!”

Creativity

Sat, 31 May 2014 01:30:13 -0600

“Creativity”

I am “off the grid” for a few days of R&R with some girlfriends. No water, no electric, no cell service for 30 miles. Bliss!

Today’s post is about the creative mind. This list is SO me! I change my mind constantly. This has caused me problems in relationships because, unless a partner is extremely flexible, they are left wondering what the heck just happened. I have a tendency to be eccentric. Just look at that profile picture! I certainly color outside the lines and dream big. I love creatives. They march to their own drum. They are exciting risk takers that have great big juicy lives. So, why then am I so attracted to Virgos? Mr. Virgo held the string to my kite. He kept me from flying off the face of the earth. I have a really good friend who is a Virgo and does the same thing…listening patiently, giving advice, ready to grab that string if I ask. It’s the Gemini in me. I want to learn and do….EVERYTHING. And sometimes…sometimes I MIGHT do it twice….unless I change my mind!

To Be or Not To Be...

Sun, 25 May 2014 01:30:08 -0600

“To Be or Not To Be…”

That is the question Shakespeare asked of us. It indicates a choice is to be made. It forces the person being asked to take an active role in the conversation. It is existential. It is profound. It is the square root of who we are.

When I was in my forties, I had a teenager and a toddler and a husband who worked a difficult job and was gone long hours. He wasn’t a demonstrative person. I was involved in a hundred different things, trying to keep all the plates spinning on the sticks like the guy on Ted Mack’s Amateur Hour. Yet my soul was starving to death and when everything came crashing down around me, as it was bound to do, I saw a psychiatrist for depression and anxiety. We had worked together for a few weeks when he asked me a question I could not answer. As a matter of fact, I could not comprehend what was being asked.

“What does GINNY want?”

I was dumbfounded. Not only did I not know what Ginny wanted…I didn’t know who Ginny WAS. I don’t mean in an amnesiac kind of way. I mean in an existential kind of way. I was in my forties and no one, including myself, had ever asked me what I wanted. I changed doctors. I thought something was wrong with him to ask such a weird question. I could not relate.

I did finally get better and it was a terribly rocky road to get there. But, even in my “wellness”, I didn’t realize I still couldn’t answer the question. I didn’t realize I still didn’t understand what was being asked. Not until a few months after Mr. Virgo died did I confront my identity.

Initially it was “Who am I without Mr. Virgo?” I’m a mother…a grandmother…an aunt, sister, friend, employee, artist, writer, explorer…yada, yada, yada. These are my roles in life…my assigned titles that categorize where I sit at the big kid’s table. I am a Christian and that gives me great comfort. But….what do I want? The BIG “I”. The “I” that expands far beyond the confines of familial roles.

This is the first time I have felt my “wholeness”. I feel expansive with limitless possibilities. I’m learning to enjoy my own company without relying on someone else’s compass. I like this person I am becoming. I love that I am a spacial thinker. I love that I am just the right age and size and that my skin fits me and makes reminders around my eyes that I have had great moments of joy in my life. I get a kick out of my ability to find the humor in just about any situation. I am touched by my heart when it aches with compassion. I am happy that I can cry tears of grief for a man I loved more than life. It means I HAD that love…that I FELT that connection with another soul. And I am grateful that I hold these memories close to my heart. They comfort me as well.

I don’t know if I will always be alone. But for right now, I am busy stretching my wings, flapping them around, doing a few little test flights here and there. I’m learning, not only what Ginny WANTS, but also who Ginny IS. I am making an active choice…to be or not to be. I am happy to just be ME.

How To Have a Successful Yard Sale

Sat, 24 May 2014 01:30:35 -0600

“How To Have a Successful Yard Sale”

Decide the afternoon before to join your neighbor for a yard sale.
Spend the entire afternoon sorting through one box of pictures. Oh my gosh…look how cute the kids were! Is that my great uncle or the grandfather I never knew? Stop….focus!
Look at the incredibly huge list of things to get rid of. Choose one thing to do from list.
Move mirror from hall into powder room.
Cross the big mirror move off the list.
Answer the phone and talk to friend for an hour about the big garage sale tomorrow.
Where was I?
Oh, yes…catch up on Facebook. Watch funny cat video. Check e-mail. Wait…what was I on here for? Oh, yeah…check tomorrow’s weather. Oh great…rain!
Tell neighbor you’re doing swimmingly when she comes for an update on garage sale prep.
Holy crap, what was I thinking?!?!
Meet a friend for dinner. You have to keep your strength up for the big day tomorrow!
Call another friend to tell them about the HUGE yard sale tomorrow!
Go to bed early in preparation for the big day. Rest is important!
Write a blog post about the really huge, tremendously important garage sale tomorrow and confess you are ill-prepared but game to give it a try.

Get up at the butt-crack of dawn. Please, Lord….bring me coffee. Where are those price stickers?

Live!

Wed, 21 May 2014 01:30:32 -0600

“Live!”

I have a magnet on my fridge that says “May you live all the days of your life!” A sound reminder that we can so easily become complacent in life. The devil you know is better than the one you don’t. Wrong! It took the awakening of spring to shake me out of my winter reverie. I went into hibernation as a means to just “get through” the long, cold darkness of another Colorado winter. My first winter without Mr. Virgo here to keep my home fires burning. As soon as the days started to get longer, I stretched and raised my head to look around only to find myself stagnant and unmoving. Like a bear emerging from her den, I went in search of food. I fed myself on the spring shoots called “fun in the sun”, and formulated a plan. I can sit here till the cows come home and write and expound on my deepest thoughts, but I am like anyone else…I sometimes have trouble following my own advice. Better late to the party than to never have bought the dress!

I stopped at Lowe’s after work and bought flowers for the front porch. When I got home, my next door neighbor was loading up a bunch of trash and the old hot tub from my yard onto a trailer to take it to the dump for me. Nice kids, these neighbors. Afterwards, it was hot and sticky. I turned on the air conditioner and took a quick snooze. Caught up with my Facebook friends and now I’m out in TOW-Wanda enjoying the sounds of the crickets and the neighborhood kids squeezing out the last of the sunlight before their mamas call them in for the night. It’s cool sitting here, propped up on my pillows in front of the open window, the gentle evening breeze brushing against the back of my neck.

It’s funny how this journey brings you to such polarizing moments. Right now I am peaceful and content. Last Wednesday I was standing in the hall closet clinging to Mr. Virgo’s jacket, crying. It’s exhausting to ride the roller coaster of emotions. I’ve been told the second year was harder for many of my readers who are widowed. I can understand that. The first year you’re numb. The second year you’re well aware of what has happened and have pretty much resigned yourself to this new, solitary life. And it reminds you over and over that you aren’t a couple anymore. But I refuse to become one of the lost souls who can’t make it past this. I will fight with every ounce of my being to live the life Mr. Virgo was denied. And when those times of complacency settle over me, I will set a weekly alarm on my calendar to call a meeting of the Board of Directors (table for one, please) and discuss where this life is headed. Am I meeting my goals? Am I moving forward, even if it’s a snail’s pace? Do I need to touch base with someone I trust to make sure everything is ok? AM I ok? This week, I am fine. This week, I am up to my armpits in alligators and that makes everything else easier to deal with. <3

Reflection

Tue, 20 May 2014 01:30:50 -0600

“Reflection…20/20 Vision of the Mind”

This time last year I had just begun my Grand Adventure…my three month road trip in TOW-Wanda. It was really just the beginning of my grief journey. As I look back, I can see how far I’ve come since those lost days. Reflecting also gives me 20/20 vision. I can see where I made some poor decisions. I spent too much money. I got involved in situations I had no business getting involved in, as I was unprepared to handle the repercussions. I lost connections I thought I would always have. I made new connections that I hope will carry through the rest of my life. I cried more tears than I thought humanly possible. I found out how strong this West Virginia gal really is. That strength is solid. I know where it is and how to access it when needed. Something I did not always have in the past. Death is the great equalizer. We are all different but grief will knock every one of us to our knees at some point in life. I am grateful for these life lessons. I guess that is our true purpose in life. To learn that there is strength in our greatest weakness. To learn to love from the deepest crevasse of our souls. To know the compassion of others. To feel. Charles Dickens was right…It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Life is funny that way.

Fortune Cookie Wisdom

Tue, 13 May 2014 01:30:33 -0600

“Fortune Cookie Wisdom”

OMGosh! This is too funny. I’m sure you have surmised by now that I am a Gemini with a hobby disorder. I get interested in something, go out and buy every supply I could possibly need for a lifetime of doing that particular hobby, only to lose interest once I have actually mastered the skill. It’s the learning that interests me, not the repetitious nature of the hobby itself. As a result, and with the knowledge that I am purging to prepare to sell my house…can you imagine the inner dialog when I read something like this??? lol Back away from the craft aisle and no one gets hurt. I have a glue gun and I’m NOT afraid to use it!!!

Letting Go

Thu, 08 May 2014 01:30:03 -0600

“Letting Go”

As I begin the big purge, I look at these things I’ve dragged around with me most of my life. I’ve paid movers three times to tote a lot of it. I’ve boxed and unpacked countless times over the years. It’s exhausting. And totally unnecessary. I am having a garage sale on Saturday (the first of several, I am sure). I am asking my family what they want and giving them responsibility for the care and feeding of those heirlooms I won’t have room for. A daunting task, but I am determined!

One of my readers posted something a few weeks ago and it really hit home. She was holding something, showing it to her daughter. She said, " This belonged to Aunt Mary. I can’t get rid of this!" Her five year old granddaughter said, “Nana…do you need that to remember Aunt Mary?” Out of the mouths of babes, such wisdom. No, I don’t need my grandpa’s broken lunch pail. I don’t need the Sloan’s Liniment bottle I fished out of my grandma’s barn. I don’t need my great-grandfather’s bowler hat or his walking stick. But I want them. They are part of my history. They are alive with their stories. How do you pass the stories on to the youngest generation without the props? I don’t know. I suppose I will whittle, and whittle, and keep those things that I think I cannot live without. Then I will whittle some more. I cannot possibly take my daughter’s suggestion and get a dumpster. How on earth can you do that? With that in mind, let’s look at the other side of the coin. I’ve always been good at that. What if everything were destroyed in a fire or flood? Just…gone? Would my life end? Of course not. Would I be sad? Sure I would. But, I’d still have the stories….just without the props.

I can do this. I can lighten my footprint and not leave a disaster behind for my girls to clean up. I spent two whole months emptying my mother’s house out. I was furious with her for leaving me with such a mess. I have since softened my heart in that regard, but man…that was a huge chore and one that I don’t want to leave for my girls. Because I know my daughter. She will rent a dumpster and off it will go. At least this way, my treasures will go to someone who will love them.

Acceptance

Wed, 07 May 2014 01:30:40 -0600

“Acceptance”

Sometimes this new life I had thrust upon me sneaks up on me and bites me in the butt. I live my life. I am on my own. I have freedom to do what I want, pretty much. I have choices. This is all well and good till the execution of said choices involves half the manpower it used to. That’s when my aloneness rears up its ugly head and reminds me why that is. What used to be easier with two becomes a challenge for one. Facing a major downsize, yet another move, and all that it entails drove me to my inner sanctuary yesterday afternoon. I accomplished a lot in the garage then went to town to have the tires switched out. I came home and did a little self care…i.e., I took a nap. The stuff was still there afterward and I was better able to take another stab at it after a rest than I would have been had I pushed to work straight through.

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

Conviction

Sun, 04 May 2014 01:30:30 -0600

“Conviction”

When we travel through life on autopilot, we do ourselves a disservice. We deny ourselves the real experience of living out loud, with gusto…with conviction. We need to live life like we mean it, like this is the only day we have…because it is. I have friends who have lost loved ones recently. One is in her 40’s with three little ones under 7 and lost her husband suddenly. He was 42. My loss was great. Her loss…what words can you say?

No death is easy, but these “snatch deaths” are brutal. They’re there. Then they’re not. Just like that. I don’t claim to understand why. None of us can. Oh, we can intellectualize, sure. We can point out poor life choices. We can blame it on genetics. We can look at the bottom line truth of biology. We can turn to our faith and say God needed our loved one more that we did…it “was his time”. I wish I had some words of wisdom, some token of comfort today. But, today is just one of those days that I’m frustrated with my loss. I have made the decision to sell the house and move but the amount of work that it is going to take has me sitting scratching my head, wondering where on earth to start. I hate that feeling of paralysis knowing full well all it takes is making that first step…cutting things into bite sized pieces. I know how. I’ve done it a hundred times. And I also know myself well enough to know these things can’t be forced. I will sit with it in my lap and the motivation will hit me like a tidal wave. I just have to sit quietly with it and remind myself that I have control. I can make choices. I am not stuck or frozen. I am plugged in, like my cellphone, charging up and when the line hits green…I’ll run like my pants are on fire. Until then, I will be patient. I will wait.

Cozy Cottage

Wed, 30 Apr 2014 01:30:13 -0600

“Cozy Cottage”

In the five years between my divorce and meeting Mr. Virgo, I decorated my house like an English country cottage. After we were married, he put up with my froufrou decorating for about six months. One day he couldn’t take it anymore and said we had to add some testosterone to the décor. So I bought some beautiful used furniture and we decorated so it would become “our” house. I’ve always missed that touch of froufrou though! Now that I’m thinking of selling my house, all these wonderful decorating ideas are coming to mind.

I needed to go to the Apple Store today to have them look at my iPad. Right next door, in the Flatirons Crossing Mall, is my favorite store in the world! Cozy Cottage has everything I could want…and then some. I think when I move, I’ll take just a select few pieces of furniture, and decorate just the way I want…what Mr. Virgo called “English country cottage $#!/”! My girls will roll their eyes. I will sigh and smile!

A Fork in the Road

Sat, 26 Apr 2014 01:30:32 -0600

“A Fork in the Road”

We have all found ourselves here many, many times in our lives. We’ve made choices and sometimes they are good, sometimes not so much. I’ve never stood at this spot with such trepidation as I have since losing Mr. Virgo. I have never had to make decisions all by myself. It’s daunting to say the least. What should I do about retirement? Should I keep the big house or downsize? What am I going to do about an income? Where am I heading? Who would take care of me if something unforeseen happens? Should I have another relationship? Do I want to grow old alone?

These questions, and a million others can result in a certain kind of paralysis. Sitting and spinning and feel stuck doesn’t feel good and sometimes it’s the smallest of things that can help get you down off the fence. Other times it takes a veritable earthquake to shake you out of this self-imposed stagnation. For me, it happened this week when I was visiting my family and saw firsthand what they are going through juggling everything. I can be of much more help to them if I don’t live three hours away so I’m investigating selling the big mountain house and downsizing to something much more affordable near the kids. It just makes sense all the way around. And it’s amazing how just making the decision to investigate has freed me from the chains of my indecisiveness and helps me take a deep breath.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Mon, 21 Apr 2014 01:30:37 -0600

“Out of the mouths of babes.”

We all adore our grandchildren and each feel ours are the smartest, the kindest, the most beautiful, the best…and they are. That’s our job as grandmothers…to give them everything we wish we would have been smart enough, and wealthy enough, to give our own children. Grandchildren are our gifts from God…our reward for accepting the daunting task of parenting and surviving.

My grandchildren are, of course, the best. My 10 year old is smart and beautiful and athletic. My 6 year old is my loving, tender, deep thinker. I’m spending a few days with them this week and we are all thrilled.

We are having our annual Easter dinner at my son-in-law’s parents even as I write this. We hunted for Easter eggs and exchanged baskets and took lots of pictures. Then my little one, my thinker, my old soul told me she had something for me. She had made me this card. It was everything I could do not to cry. She misses her Papa. And…she understands me like few adults do.

Yes, my grandchildren are the best.

Clutter

Fri, 18 Apr 2014 01:30:10 -0600

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

Yes, I am ashamed to say it, but that IS an actual photo from my actual “craft” room (aka The Disaster Room). Ok, it’s not in the house where I am currently living, but…like the proverbial bad penny, it always returns. No matter where I live, this room follows me like Pigpen’s little dust cloud.

There HAS to be help for someone like me! Ok, short of calling the producers of Hoarders…I’m not THAT bad. But it’s borderline pathologic the way I hang on to some things. I will formulate a plan. When I get back from my next adventure, I am tackling this house and getting it in order! I am selling stuff. I am organizing a garage sale. I am taking things to a consignment shop. I am donating to charities. I’m done with feeling like Damocles’ sword is hanging over my head. It has finally become unpleasant enough to want to do something about it.

The majority of my house is just fine. It’s really just the garage and my office/studio. I’m a Gemini. I’m not an organizer. I need a staff! I could be as creative and together as Martha Stewart if I just had staff!

Resumes being accepted now. Apply within.

Farm Fresh Eggs

Thu, 17 Apr 2014 01:30:40 -0600

“Farm Fresh Eggs”

Once you have farm fresh eggs, you realize what terrible reproductions you’ve actually been eating. They are rich and the yolks are a deep orange and they stand up in the pan, not like those pale yellow things that just lay there.

I swear I remember my grandma having chickens when I was very little, but my aunt says she has no recollection of that. I know we had extended family with chickens, ducks, geese, guinea hens, and pheasants. I have always wanted chickens but have never lived where I could have them. One of my dearest friends had chickens. They lived in town and city council had just approved a certain number of chickens per household. The only thing was, you couldn’t have roosters. She got a batch of fancy chicks and was assured they had been sexed and there were no roosters. Well, when the time came, there was a great deal of cock-a-doodle-dooing coming from the chicken coop and the town officials were on her. She tried like crazy to find homes but everyone had their quota and we ended up butchering them, thinking we would at least have some chicken meat out of the ordeal. No such luck. They were so scrawny they might as well have been songbirds. And the whole episode was thoroughly traumatic for all involved.

I have a cousin in WV who had a couple of huge chicken houses where they produced fertilized eggs for the poultry industry. We went to visit once and I was shocked at the sheer volume of chickens and the noise. They did a great job of keeping it clean but man, it was a lot of work picking eggs every day. I asked my cousin if she would send us home with some eggs. I was SO disappointed. I pictured them being like farm eggs but they were worse than store bought because their only purpose was reproduction, not food.

Speaking of eggs, besides the obvious upcoming Easter holiday, Passover is this week. At the Seder, the traditional meal on the first and second nights of Passover, a Seder plate is laid out with, among other things, an egg to symbolize the arrival of spring and new growth. The Last Supper was a Passover Seder. I would like to wish my family and friends a Happy Passover. I have been so busy this week, I forgot to say anything.

Joyfulness

Sat, 12 Apr 2014 01:30:29 -0600

“Joyfulness”

“Joyfulness keeps the heart and face young. A good laugh makes us better friends with ourselves and everybody around us.” Orison Scott Marden

In the weeks and months following Mr. Virgo’s death, I wasn’t sure I would ever really laugh and feel joy again. True…I bought TOW-Wanda and joined Sisters on the Fly so I would have joyful things to look forward to, but it was truly difficult to look far enough ahead to see long lasting happiness. But, eventually, I did feel joy. I got my sense of humor back. I laughed again. There were times when I had to make the conscious decision to be happy, but those times have become fewer and farther between.

One of the first things I did in the days before the funeral was hit the bargain bin movies at Target and buy several comedies. My daughters and I watched a couple of them and I also found them to be very helpful during the dark months of winter. Another thing I did was surround myself with really fun and funny people. I have this one particular friend that can always, always, always make me laugh. When I’m down, I can call him and after the obligatory consolations, we are off on a laugh fest that has us rolling. I have several friends like that, actually. Laughter is SO important. It really IS the best medicine!

If you are new to this journey, trust me…you will laugh again. Your loved one wouldn’t want you moping around being sad for too long. On the other hand, take whatever time you need to grieve. And know it’s a roller coaster. There isn’t a single trajectory. There isn’t a right way or a wrong way. There is only YOUR way.

<3 Ginny

Some Days...

Fri, 11 Apr 2014 01:30:18 -0600

“Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations.”

Some days are easy, some not so much. And some vacillate back and forth so much you feel like a waffle by the time it’s over. Up, down, up, down…those days can wreak emotional havoc. Yesterday was like that. Coffee with the girls…up. Chiropractor (plantar fasciitis)…down. Phone call with daughter…up. Carotid imaging for cardiac screening (memories of Mr. Virgo)…down. Play with the neighbor’s dog…up. Facing the mess post-vacation…down. Talking with friends…up. Headache…down. Visiting with a gal who follows my blog who, like most of you, just stumbled upon it and finding out she lives 8 miles from my grandparent’s farm and we are more than likely related on my mom’s side…priceless.

(Six Degrees of Separation. It is a small world. I once was traveling through JFK Airport when I stopped in the facilities. There was a woman at the sink that I worked with in Denver! It was kind of funny though because we had just spoken a couple of days before and she never mentioned she was traveling as well. I greeted her and went for the greeting hug and she pulled back with a look of concern. I was puzzled. Then I realized she LOOKED just like my friend, but not exactly. Something was off. Come to find out, she was my friend’s twin sister!)

We travel a lot of roads in life. Some are easy, some are not. And sometimes the greatest view is at the end of the roughest terrain. You just have to hang in there till you get past the tough parts.

Inner Peace

Thu, 10 Apr 2014 01:30:01 -0600

“If you cannot find peace within yourself, you will never find it anywhere else.” Marvin Gaye

So, yesterday I mentioned that I went through the whole day Monday without remembering it would have been Mr. Virgo’s and my 7th Wedding Anniversary. Thanks to everyone who sent me love and sweet thoughts. Now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, I realize it is just another step in healing. I haven’t forgotten him. I’ve just been living this amazing life I’ve been given and I still take him with me wherever I go.

When I went out for my walk/run yesterday, I went from my house to the cemetery for the first time. When I travel in TOW-Wanda, I bring a rock back from each trip and place it around Mr. Virgo’s grave and tell him about my trip. I did that yesterday without thinking of our anniversary. It was only after getting to the office and seeing the calendar that I remembered. And I felt sadness wash over me.

But then something amazing happened. I’ve been reading The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer and have learned that “I” am not the thoughts, the voice chattering in my head. That voice of admonishment that chastised me for not remember on the day itself is not “me”. I remembered that “I”…the real “me”…sits back and observes that chatterbox. And really, what was the difference between the five minutes BEFORE I remembered and the five minutes AFTER? Only one thing…a tiny thought. I remembered. Everything else…the ensuing feeling of guilt…was nothing more than self judgement. Is anything really different after I remembered? Nope…he’s still gone. I’m still here. I’m still functioning and strong. I’m still standing. It may have taken me a few hours of rumination to work that thought through, but the point is…I DID work through it. I know HOW to work through it.

What an amazing revelation to know where “I” sit…to know who “I” am. Things will never be the same.

Quiet

Wed, 09 Apr 2014 01:30:35 -0600

“Quiet”

One thing I now have much more control over as a widow is noise. I am very selective about what I listen to these days. Driving is still much more fun for me while listening to my iTunes playlists. I sort them into fun mixes just like we used to do with mixed tapes. Country, Road Trip, Christian, Classical. I have a playlist for every mood. When we were in Ouray this weekend Sue played “Girls Chase Boys” by Ingrid Michaelson and I kept playing it over and over yesterday when I drove to Denver and back. Sometimes a song catches me and won’t let go!

There are times when I just want peace and quiet. I rarely have TV on anymore. When I hear it for more than 15 minutes or so, I usually get really agitated…unless it’s a show I like. The Voice is one of my favorites. I bought an Apple TV unit yesterday. My daughter has it and says it has saved them a ton of money. Hey, my bottom line is this…$99 is a small price to pay to see Blake Shelton on the big screen! Am I right???

Simplicity

Mon, 07 Apr 2014 01:30:52 -0600

“We’re all just walking each other home.” Ram Dass

Long stretches of silence brings us closer to the source. For me, that source is God and I find His peace deep within. My latest trip brought me into close communion with my source as well as a deep reconnection with nature. I could feel the rhythms of the earth. I heard the wind as it rocked my trailer. I smelled the rain in the air. I felt the chill of snow on my back as I lay in the hot springs whose very source is from deep within our planet. My breathing became regular and easy. My sleep was deep and dreamless. My pulse slowed and my mind became quiet. Life became very simple. Good coffee. Writing. Reading. Walking. Visiting with like minded spirits. Yoga. Stretching. Napping. Vegetarian dishes served with intention and love. Meditation. Prayer. Peace.

We really are one. We are all in this together. What we do on a daily basis has profound impact on the world around us and that ripples out further and further. We get so busy and feel so small and ineffectual. One. One small thing. One small act of kindness. One small gesture of compassion. Can you imagine if every single person, every single day, did one small thing to raise the consciousness of our planet what a difference that would make in the world? Can you imagine if every person in the world said one small prayer every day in their own way of praying what a powerful thing that is?

We must walk each other home.

A Moment in Time

Fri, 04 Apr 2014 01:30:16 -0600

“A Moment in Time”

I woke up to six inches of wet snow yesterday morning. The only good thing about that (besides the much needed moisture) is that snow doesn’t hang around long this time of year. When I looked out, I noticed my friend Sue was still at home. About then she texted me to see if I was up yet. I went in for coffee and we sat in front of the wall of windows watching a gazillion birds at the many feeders they have.

Sue was supposed to go to work today but the weather kept her in. Once things cleared a little, we decided to head up to Mesa Verde to see the ruins. They had about a foot of snow up there and it was beautiful!

While wandering around it became apparent that I am not in shape. I was huffing and puffing and had to sit down whenever I found a bench. Granted, we were up pretty high, but that doesn’t excuse me for letting myself get like this. I spent the winter writing (and eating) and now that it’s Spring, I’m going to get out and walk. Who’s up for a challenge? Anyone want to form a walking club? We can walk “together” for encouragement. :-)

This moment in time is all we have. Let’s make the most of it, ok?

Seeking Inner Peace

Wed, 26 Mar 2014 01:30:08 -0600

“Seeking Inner Peace”

What a glorious day I had yesterday! I had a nice lazy start then headed over for yoga in the yurt. Many others had the same idea. This was my first ever yoga class and my inner voice would NOT shut up! “Look at these people. They know what they’re doing and you look like a pretzel. Do these leggings make my cellulite as obvious as I think they do? Man, this woman beside me breathes loud! Jeez-o-Pete…just how long IS 80 minutes? I’m glad I just signed up for one class today!” Yack, yack, yack. Yoga is supposed to be peaceful and feel good. If I had to do one more downward facing dog I was going to have to get up off the floor and go punch Doug…Namaste THAT! But, I got through it, went to the restaurant and ate a lovely, calorie laden feast for breakfast, and promptly returned to The Sanctuary…aka TOW-Wanda…to take a much deserved nap. After all, I think I broke a sweat in that yoga class!

After nap time, I tried to put together a 6 ton hydraulic press (yeah, I know…I’m a mystery to ME, too!). Low and behold, there were pieces missing. Why do I always think it’s a good idea to buy stuff on eBay? I called a guy friend and asked him to see if there is a Harbor Freight in Santa Fe and he sent me the address. I’ll be heading there today so hopefully they’ll have the parts. Oh…..WHY do I have a 6 ton hydraulic press with me on vacation? I thought you’d never ask! I have to get some inventory built up for these two art show/sales and I can write off my trip if I work and show my jewelry to shops where I stay. I think I have figured out a way to flatten spoons without using a 3 pound hammer and smashing various fingers and or thumbs. Smart!

Anyway, after the missing parts fiasco, I was feeling pretty frazzled and that inner chatterbox was yammering on about always missing the boat or some Tom foolery so I headed for the pools to soak. I stopped in the gift shop (ALWAYS a bad idea). This place is a spa and they take their quiet VERY seriously. There are signs everywhere that say “Whisper Zone”. There is actually an employee that walks around the pool area with a sign that says “Whisper Please”. Well, I was feeling all Ghandi-esque, what with the yoga class and all, and promptly swung my pool bag into an entire display of wind chimes! Two dozen faces turned to glare at me and then started laughing at my vain attempts to silence said chimes. Good grief! I browsed and bought a hat to shade my face and a diet coke (remember the cellulite comment from my inner roommate in yoga class? Well, I got her some potato chips to shut her up!). As I was heading to the checkout, I passed the book stand and saw The Untethered Soul. This is EXACTLY the book I was looking for. It’s all about putting a sock in that inner $&@@$’s mouth and freeing yourself from the constant whining and second-guessing and critiquing that voice does and free you to live in peace and quiet. Sold!

Namaste!

On the Road Again!!!

Mon, 24 Mar 2014 01:30:17 -0600

“Take me on a ROAD TRIP!”

After a fun few days with the grandkids, this Nana is hitting the open road this morning! I’m heading south and cruising through Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah. I’m going to hit every hot springs I can find and will post lots of pics and stories from the road!

TOW-Wanda!!!

Purging

Sat, 22 Mar 2014 01:30:32 -0600

“Thinking about lightening the load.”

Well, ok….THINKING about purging. It’s sort of the same thing, isn’t it? I mean, you gotta have a plan, right? I have WAY too much stuff! About 14 years ago I was living in an apartment…a tiny little place with practically nothing in it. Only what I needed or considered beautiful. It was so peaceful and cozy. So now, 14 years later, I’ve accumulated stuff that no one in their right mind would want. Why? What changed? Part of the problem is Mr. Virgo liked to shop as much as I do. He was always ordering something. But it wasn’t just him. I am a certified retail therapist. Really. But I am tired of all the stuff. I’m going to start purging and sell off a ton of stuff. Just THINKING about it makes me feel better! lol

Sweet!

Fri, 21 Mar 2014 01:30:56 -0600

Every once in a while you read something that speaks to your soul. This excerpt is just such a beautiful thing. It is so profound in its’ simplicity. And the author was a mere 21 years of age when she wrote it.

Love is like that…complex and profound yet simple and sweet. Pure. We have all loved. We have all been loved. But when that one true love comes along…there’s nothing that can compare. I believe lightening can strike twice.

““Once upon a time there was a boy. He lived in a village that no longer exists, in a house that no longer exists, on the edge of a field that no longer exists, where everything was discovered and everything was possible. A stick could be a sword. A pebble could be a diamond. A tree a castle. Once upon a time there was a boy who lived in a house across the field from a girl who no longer exists. They made up a thousand games. She was Queen and he was King. In the autumn light, her hair shone like a crown. They collected the world in small handfuls. When the sky grew dark they parted with leaves in their hair. Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.”

Excerpt From: Krauss, Nicole. “The History of Love: A Novel.” W. W. Norton & Company, 2011-07-07. iBooks. This material may be protected by copyright.

Check out this book on the iBooks Store: https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewBook?id=450851483

Excerpt from The History of Love: A Novel by Nicole Krauss

Live Every Day of Your Life!

Wed, 19 Mar 2014 01:30:53 -0600

“Live Every Day of Your Life!”

There were SO many days in the year following Mr. Virgo’s death that took absolutely every ounce of strength I could muster to get out of bed. And, I have to admit, there were a handful when I failed. I couldn’t face taking a shower or anything, even though I knew full well I would feel better if I did. Something in me didn’t WANT to feel better on those days. Not in a defeatist sort of way, but I needed to feel my worst so I could get it out of me. I knew enough not to let it go on too long. Only once did I allow two days in a row to be totally eaten up by wailing into my pillows with a box of tissues and an iPod full of sappy country music. For the most part, I was determined to live the days for Mr. Virgo who was denied so many. To live them for my family. And, eventually, to live them for myself.

I wrote this down….“Get up and LIVE!” There were days, weeks…heck, MONTHS it wasn’t easy. But I swore I wouldn’t waste what God so graciously gives me every morning. Every day that I’m on the right side of the grass is a GOOD day! And some days, I still may take a “rest easy” day. Just because the first year anniversary has passed, doesn’t mean a magical switch was thrown and I’m over it all.

But, how do you make it happen when all you want to do is pull the covers over your head and listen to Linda Ronstadt and Aaron Neville sing “Goodbye, My Friend” for the umpteenth time? How many times do you have to ignore the phone ringing because it means coming back to the land of the living and you don’t remember how to breathe? The answer is, of course, however many times it takes, but there are things you can do that can help. Things I didn’t know heading into this, but I think they may help others who are walking this path.

Write down a list of everyone who tells you “Call me, anytime…day or night.” Write their numbers down beside their name. Then, when you DO need to talk, don’t call the same person every time. Give others the opportunity to feel useful. And, by calling different people each time, you aren’t “wearing out your welcome.” so to speak.
Ask for help when you need it. I found it especially helpful to ask friends to have a meal with me once in a while or sometimes I’d go days and just eat cereal, if anything.
On a good day, write down activities you have always wanted to try, movies you would like to see, friends you would like to visit, places you would like to travel. Keep a copy in your purse and on the fridge. That way, the ideas are there when you’re lost and can’t find your way.
Put something joyful in front of you that you can look forward to. For me, it was buying my little travel trailer. For you, it could be planning a trip or fixing up a room in your house as a special sanctuary. If you have nothing joyful to look forward to, time will stretch before you interminably.
Find a couple of your favorite pictures of your loved one and have them blown up and printed as 8x10’s. You can use a great app like Kicksend, choose your photo and size, and send them to someplace like Target to be printed. You can often pick up cute frames there on sale when the photos are done. I avoided doing this for 10 months because I thought it would hurt too much. But, I can’t tell you the comfort it gave me to have these big pictures all around my bedroom. I wish I would have done it months before.

These are just a few ways you can help yourself LIVE every day. If you have trouble thinking of more, just ask me or a trusted friend or family member to help you with your list. You WILL live again. You WILL laugh again. It won’t be the same, but if it were…if we did not grieve and mourn…we would not be human.

<3 Ginny

Seek and Ye Shall Find

Sun, 16 Mar 2014 01:30:51 -0600

“Seek and Ye Shall Find”

I was discussing this with a friend the other night. This verse can mean so much more than just seeking God. It doesn’t matter what, or who, it is we’re seeking….we will find it.

We all know someone who always seems to have bad luck. They have endless complaints, nothing goes their way, and they can never catch a break. They are unhappy people. They WANT to be happy (or, at least they SAY they do). But, what are they actually seeking? If you look for the bad in people or situations, that’s all you will ever see. You have chosen to filter your vision through a lens that can only see darkness. The key word there is darkness.

When you turn your face toward the light, look for goodness, and hope for the best, that is what you will find. At least, most of the time. It’s the same principle you will find in “The Secret”. The universe is like a giant menu. The words that come from your mouth are the orders you are giving to the Great Waiter. Choose them wisely or you will find yourself with a meal you didn’t want.

My Journey

Mon, 10 Mar 2014 01:30:22 -0600

“My Journey”

This has been a life changing year. The life I had planned, the one that included growing old with Mr. Virgo, ended abruptly a year ago this Wednesday. I sat in limbo, somewhere between then and now, in a fog of pain and self-doubt but filled with the determination that not only would I survive this challenge, I would thrive. There have been ups and downs, ins and outs, feelings of cowardice and courage. By the Grace of God…here I am. Open, filled with a joyful spirit, and ever, EVER grateful for all that I have. My life is abundant. I wrote this yesterday to post this morning. I already have Tuesday and Wednesday’s messages scheduled to post because today I am retreating with TOW-Wanda for a couple of days. I need to be alone with my thoughts and my memories. I need to just BE. I’ll be back Wednesday and will tell you all about it in Thursday’s post. That will be the first day of the rest of my life. I’m good. Don’t worry. I just want to be alone for a bit.

Love you all so much!

<3 Ginny

Vision

Thu, 06 Mar 2014 02:30:14 -0600

“Vision”

Sometimes, I feel…if I could just concentrate enough, I could see him. As if there is a thin veil between where I exist and where Mr. Virgo exists and it’s just a bit too thick to see through. Or, if I close my eyes and really listen, really concentrate, I could hear his voice. Then I realize, that’s not likely to happen. Not in reality, anyway.

I read the other day that hallucinations are fairly common in grief and I wonder if that is the pragmatists’ way of dismissing the paranormal. I have heard numerous stories of people seeing and hearing their loved one after they die. A friend of mine saw his wife three days after she died. She told him, rather forcefully, to take his medicine. Mr. Virgo turned me around and told me to shut the bedroom window three days after he died. My aunt was standing at the airport when my grandpa tapped her on the shoulder moments after he died five states away. I saw my grandpa twice after he died.

I haven’t seen Mr. Virgo. Not in a recognizable, physical way. I’ve sensed him nearby. But not for quite a while. Maybe a part of him stayed here for awhile to comfort me in the weeks after his death. Maybe I was hallucinating in the depths of my grief. I don’t think there are any of us who wouldn’t want just one last visit. One last cup of coffee. One last conversation. One last kiss…

Shoes

Mon, 24 Feb 2014 02:30:00 -0600

“Cinderella’s Boots”

We cannot know what another feels unless we have “walked a mile in their shoes”. Sometimes we can’t relate to their pain even if we HAVE been there because every grief is different. Some seem to handle great loss with grace and aplomb. Others seem to be crushed by the same set of circumstances. If you are the crushed one, you must not compare your capacity to cope with someone else who looks like she is getting along beautifully. You don’t know what’s happening behind closed doors when they are at home.

I’ve been reading about complicated grief. It is not recognized with a diagnostic category, yet it is real. In the first few months, up to 50% of those who have suffered the loss of a loved one experience clinical symptoms typical of major depression. If you have had tendencies toward depression or have had major traumas in your life already, complicated grief is more prevalent. I suffered a major depression as well as childhood sexual abuse and alcoholism in the family. I am a ripe candidate for complicated grief, which is really in the same category as PTSD. Recognizing this, I sought the guidance of a grief counselor. EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) helped relieve my PTSD symptoms and I believe I have avoided going down the path of extended grief. I know I am blessed.

These symptoms are typical in the early stages of grief and normally do not need treatment. But if your symptoms linger or worsen, if you become increasingly debilitated by your grief, if you have intrusive thoughts or images of your loved one that pop up unbidden, if you deny the loss or fantasize that your loved one is alive somewhere and will come home any day, if you are desperately lonely, angry or bitter…please seek help. Clergy, grief counselors, psychologists, psychiatrists…all can help you formulate a plan that may ease your pain and assist you in reintegrating into life again.

My prayers are always with you.

<3 Ginny

Bridges

Sun, 23 Feb 2014 02:30:23 -0600

“Bridges”

My heart is tender. My feelings lie on the surface like pebbles on a beach, washed over by the waves of grief till they are worn smooth. Gone are the jagged shards of a broken heart only to be replaced by one so tender and bruised that I tend to want to keep it safely tucked away, untouched. At the same time, I yearn for companionship. It’s a tightrope I walk blindfolded, praying there is a net and I’ll get to the other side. I have so many interests that have come along since Mr. Virgo died. I am not willing to give those up for anyone at this point. The good news is, there is no hurry…time is unimportant in grief.

I have been expanding my social network the last couple of months. With the new year came new friendships and reunions with old friends I hadn’t seen in years. Connections are being made that will promote my writing and offer new opportunities for speaking engagements. Friendships are being forged and strengthened that offer me comfort and joy. I have a business idea in mind with one friend. Another friend and I are going to plan a women’s retreat at her property. I am being called to speak for a women’s ministry. Bridges are being built between the dark pain of the last year and the bright light of a new life. I am taking steps out on that bridge, a little bit at a time, till I trust it won’t spill me into the chasm below. The walls are tumbling down.

This is good. I am exploring who I am and what I want my life to look like. I have choices and I’m allowing myself to make them. I’m allowing myself to feel. I’m allowing myself time. My network is expanding providing a web of support and love. Yes…this is good.

Breathe deep…walk slowly…pick your head up. You are beautiful and strong.

Out and About

Wed, 19 Feb 2014 02:30:52 -0600

“Dinner with Friends”

One of my dear readers told me the other day that she couldn’t go out for dinner by herself. She gets take out and goes home to eat alone. I understand that. It’s hard to be one in a world built for two. It can be intimidating to go out alone. I was married to a busy doctor for a long time so I was used to going out without him. Of course, I had a child with me, but it set a pattern. This served me well as I now have no problem going anywhere alone. My advice to my gentle reader was to take baby steps. Find an area coffee shop and take a good book. Even better, find a book store with a coffee shop in it. There’s bound to be plenty of people around and they will never notice you are unaccompanied. Sit near a window so you can daydream and people watch to keep your mind occupied. Carry enough cash with you to cover the bill and tip in case you can’t take it and have to make a dash for it. Try to do this at least once a week and don’t go to the same shop more than twice in a row. This will start a pattern of seeking new and interesting surroundings. You can go to a movie or a great art gallery alone. People do it all the time. Until you get brave enough to go at night, afternoons are perfect.

My problem is forgetting who I can call to join me when I would like company. I went to a poetry reading the other night. I was sitting at dinner, alone, when I sent a friend a text to see if she was going. She wasn’t going to go but said if I would, she would. I hadn’t seen her in years and she suggested calling her to have dinner next time. I’m going to make a note on my iPhone of the names and numbers of friends I can call when I want company. It’s less intimidating than the contact list.

So, get out there, sunshine! One little baby step at a time, till you’re going on a grand adventure of your own!

Courage

Tue, 18 Feb 2014 02:30:49 -0600

“Courage”

Someone responded to one of my posts the other day that I was the bravest person she knew. My first thought was, “Oh, I wonder who she’s talking about?” Then I realized it was ME she was referring to. It gave me a chance to reflect on how far I’ve come in this journey. As the time is slipping ever closer to the Angel-versary date of Mr. Virgo’s death, I am finding myself introspective…more so than usual.

Courage. Strength. Grace. These are things that are slippery. Just when you think you have grabbed the bull by the horns, it turns around and throws you to the ground. You have to get back up, dust yourself off and try again. Over and over and over again. When Mr. Virgo’s death was fresh, and I was paralyzed by grief, the act of getting up in the morning was one of great bravery. Going to the funeral was tantamount to facing the armies of a formidable enemy. That was the first block in the foundation I was building for this new life. And the next day, I laid another, then another and so on until I could breathe and function again. Some days, that block was cracked, uneven and broken. I had to chisel it back out and try again the next day. God stood patiently by, holding the bucket of mortar so that I could build this foundation by His strength when my own failed me miserably.

I feel God’s grace in my life daily. I feel I am walking the path He had planned for me long before I was an earthly thought. When you are living your life’s purpose, you are in alignment with your higher power. You resonate like a tuning fork. You glow. That’s where I am now in this journey. I am grateful for the strength, courage, grace, bravery…and for you, gentle people, who have held me up when I couldn’t stand on my own.

I love you all.

Authenticity

Tue, 18 Feb 2014 02:30:44 -0600

“Authenticity”

When I wear my fringed and beaded western jacket, my girls roll their eyes. My granddaughter (the 10 year old fashionista) shudders and walks some distance from me. But others go on and on about this jacket. I finally asked a gal in Aspen why she liked it and she said it was more me than the jacket. It was ME, being authentic. Not being self-conscious. Not being afraid of what others might think. That is how 60 year olds become sexy! This is something that has to come with age, this ability to step out of the cloak of conformity we wore all those many years.

I have always admired people who know who they are, who don’t conform to match others around them. I have to admit that I have been a conformist for most of my life. I learned at an early age that it’s a lot easier to get along in this world when you are camouflaged. I changed who I was to match my love interests. I was much, much more authentic with Mr. Virgo, probably because I was so much older by the time we met. And since he died, I have had an opportunity to really find out who I am. I’ve found I’m much stronger than I ever thought I was. And I trust my own judgement more. I’m comfortable in my own skin. I’ve learned you can be assertive and not be a b&@$#. When you get to that place in your life, you become a magnet and attract other like-minded individuals and your world explodes with color and music and companionship. People WANT to be around you and seek you out. It’s amazing!

Life is a sweet, sweet thing, isn’t it?

Letting Go

Tue, 18 Feb 2014 02:30:40 -0600

“Letting Go”

This has been on my mind for a little while now. Every day is bringing me closer to the end of this journey. Not the end of feelings or sudden waves of grief, but the end of the “Year of the Loss”. A year ago we were enjoying his day off together. We would have had breakfast, watched some TV, maybe gone out for a drive. We would have cooked dinner together. We would have laughed and hugged and held hands. And three weeks later, on his Tuesday off, he was gone.

Letting go. Letting go of what? My love for him? Never. I will always love him, just as I love my two other husbands. (Yes, I’ve taken up three women’s quotas in the husband department. Sorry.) My memories of him? The important ones will stick around close to the front. Others will eventually file towards the back of the room. I’ve already let go of his physical presence. I haven’t reached for him in the middle of the night in a long, long time.

So, what else is there to let go of? Attachment. I know many women who will always and forever be “George’s wife” and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. It would have been unthinkable that my grandma would forsake her marriage after Pop-Pop died. She went on and lived 28 years without a man. My mom never dated after her divorce and lived another 24 years without a man. Maybe it’s because I have already suffered the loss of two marriages that makes the act of letting go something that can even be considered. Maybe it is the times we are living in that allow moving on to be more socially acceptable.

Will I ever actually marry again? I would like to…if it’s meant to be…if it’s the right guy…if our love is epic. In this day and age there are so many factors besides love and companionship to consider. There are finances and tax considerations nowadays that do not reward marriage. But, there are tenets in my faith that condemn cohabitation. Luckily, this is an issue I don’t need to solve today and hopefully, when God brings me another partner, we will be able to work it all out together. I know I won’t be alone forever. I don’t want to be.

I was forced by definition to let go of being married…well, at least by definition on certain forms. I’ll never forget someone saying shortly after Mr. Virgo died, “You’re not married anymore. Your husband died. You are a widow.” I was hurt and offended and angry that society was taking something away from me that I wasn’t ready to relinquish. I still say “My husband died.” But I just as often, if not more, refer to him as my late husband.

Letting go is a process. It is a choice. Choosing to let go is not something that should be judged by others. It’s like learning to walk all over again…you reach back for that hand that steadied you till you can do it on your own. And, if you are so blessed, a new hand appears.

Photo courtesy of Humanity Healing.

Heaven

Mon, 10 Feb 2014 02:30:15 -0600

“Mr. Virgo’s Idea of Heaven”

Mr. Virgo lived his life. He had stories that were so entertaining, I would often ask him to tell me over and over. I marveled at the places he went, the people he met, the things he did. He lived his life, but he also questioned what was coming next. He was a Christian, so he knew he was going to Heaven. But, what does Heaven look like? Is it some ethereal thing with streets paved in gold? Is it like earth, only different? Is it whatever you want it to be? There are those who claim to have been there during near-death experiences and I’m not sure I have read any two accounts that match exactly. Mr. Virgo and I used to talk about it. We would theorize, debate, quote, read, watch movies and discuss just what we felt it would be like. His view of Heaven was very simple. It was this picture, taken at an overlook near Pagosa Springs, Colorado. Whenever we would stop here on our way down from the mountains, he would just stare out at this vista and sigh. This was perfection. He would have a log cabin. He would be a mountain man, hunting and trapping and gathering food. He would chop his own wood and carry water from a pristine stream. He would fish and bake biscuits in a Dutch oven. He would sit on the front porch in the evening in a rocking chair he built himself. He would whittle and listen to the evening birds as they swooped to catch the mayflies. And he would visit with God. He pictured God sitting on that front porch with him every evening, discussing the great mysteries of life. He would see his family again. He would meet Lincoln, and JFK, and Mother Theresa. He would rest. He was most looking forward to seeing Jesus. He wanted to ask him every question there was to ask.

I like to look at this picture and imagine him doing all those things he said he would do in Heaven. I like to picture him with Jesus. It gives me peace.

The Mouths of Babes

Sat, 08 Feb 2014 02:30:39 -0600

“Some good things come out of the worst of times. Molly, age 6”

My six…almost seven year old granddaughter is one of the most profound thinkers I have ever known. On the night Mr. Virgo was buried, we were sitting at dinner and the divine Miss M sat by me, held my hand and said, “Nana, I am so sorry for what happened to Papa…you must be so sad.” She went on to take her crayons and draw a circle with a cross in it and gave it to me.

“This is for you, Nana.”

“That’s beautiful, honey. What is it?”

“This is for you to put on Papa’s pillow to remind you that he died and didn’t just go on vacation without you.”

That’s is deep on a couple of levels. First, being left behind on purpose is a fate worse than death to a 5 year old. And second, don’t fool yourself into thinking he’s coming back because he’s not. She is a pragmatist, she thinks and feels deeply, and she is six.

We went to the mall for Valentine shoes on Saturday. (Doesn’t every girl need new shoes for Valentine’s Day?) We were looking at pictures over lunch and when we came to one of her Papa, she told me she still misses him. A little later, she was trying on her new cowgirl boots and caught my eye with a very serious look on her face.

“Nana, some good things come out of the worst of times.”

Indeed, they do, Miss M…indeed they do.

Dance!

Tue, 04 Feb 2014 02:30:37 -0600

“Live life with abandon and DANCE!”

It’s hard to feel down when you’re dancing. Sometimes I just crank up the tunes and rock around the house. It’s good exercise, it’s fun, and it focuses your attention on something other than your pain. It’s ok to take a break from grief once in a while. No one is going to judge you. And if they do, you don’t need that kind of negativity in your life anyway. So put on your party shoes and dance, honey!

Grief

Tue, 04 Feb 2014 02:30:22 -0600

“Grief”

Someone asked…what does grief feel like? Wow. If we knew ahead of time what it would feel like, would we be better prepared? I don’t know…maybe. In 1981, I had my gallbladder removed. I had absolutely NO idea the amount of pain that would entail. It was back in the days before they were done through laparoscopic surgery so it was the full 8" incision across the upper right side of my abdomen. It was excruciating and I was so mad that no one had warned me.

I’ve suffered losses. My grandparents, my parents, friends from school. They were painful and sad. I can’t imagine losing a child or grandchild, God forbid. I’m not sure I could have understood what losing Mr. Virgo would feel like if someone would have told me ahead of time, but I will do my best to describe what it was like for me.

While in the ER watching the lifesaving attempts being made, I was in disbelief. It felt like sliding downhill on ice…the farther it went, the faster it went, the more out of control I felt.

When the doctor came out to tell me he was gone, it felt as though someone hit me in the stomach. A sucker punch that I wasn’t ready for…that knocked the wind out of me. I immediately went into denial mode. I knew I had to put one foot in front of the other and get through this nasty business that they were going to expose me to in a few minutes, but after that, I was going to get in my car and drive home and Mr. Virgo would be there waiting for me.

They had me wait with the Chaplain for a bit while they removed the tubes and got Mr. Virgo cleaned up. They led me into the room where he was. They didn’t have his hair combed right. It pissed me off. (I was very concerned about his hair, even at the funeral home. It is strange what you focus on.) I felt like a trapped animal and looked for the nearest exit. I felt detached from reality. Then they did something very nice for me and looking back on it from a purely sociological standpoint, it was the best thing they could have done to shock me back into the present. They had wrapped a heating pad around Mr. Virgo’s left hand to keep it warm and gently led me to his side. The nurse said, in the kindest voice, “You need to take his wedding ring off now.” Bam! I was back in the room and reality struck me. This was real. This was really happening and he was really gone. I went numb. I remember trying to make the staff feel better, telling them I knew it wasn’t their fault that he had died. That I knew they had done everything they could. It was my first exposure to playing the gracious hostess of a macabre family reunion.

A friend had joined me at the hospital so I didn’t have to be alone. She wanted to drive me home. I insisted on driving myself and she followed close behind. I needed to be alone. I didn’t cry. I kept looking over at the passenger seat, feeling like I had forgotten something very important. Like I had left my purse at the restaurant. I called my ex-husband and asked him to have the girls go to his house and I would meet them there. I remember about 5 minutes of that drive. I would recommend you take someone up on the offer to drive you home.

When I got to my ex-husband’s house, he, his wife, and my oldest daughter came down the steps to meet me and I collapsed in their arms. I was led inside, given a cup of tea and a yogurt. I blamed myself for not recognizing symptoms, for not listening to my gut instincts, for not letting Mr. Virgo quit his stressful job because we needed the benefits, for not insisting he have that complete physical his doctor wanted. Heck, I would have blamed myself for global warming at that point. I felt horrible and took it all on my shoulders.

One or the other of my daughters slept with me for a week. I did not sedate myself. I wanted to feel whatever came my way. I don’t drink and didn’t want to. My memories that week are like looking at an ill-arranged slide show. Snippets here. Bits there. Truly, I was numb, spaced out, being led from one thing to another. Amazingly, I was not anxious about the visitation, the Rosary, or the funeral…and I am typically an anxious person when it comes to not being in complete control of a situation. I walked through the paces, went where I was told, ate when it was placed before me, slept when I was led to my bed. Robotic comes to mind.

I needed to be at home to take care of some things for the first week after everyone left, then I went to my son-in-law’s parent’s house for three weeks. I was exhausted. One of the most profound effects of my grief was memory loss. I had to write things down on my iPad. I made lists galore. I put blinders on and plodded forward.

I took off for three months and traveled in TOW-Wanda by myself. Buying that trailer was the best thing I have ever done for myself. It was small and cozy, like a cocoon where I could hunker down and lick my wounds like a sick cat. I took her up high in the mountains where there was no one around for miles and screamed at God for taking my man away from me. I screamed at Mr. Virgo for not taking care of himself. I screamed and cried till I was hoarse. I slept for days. I forced myself to eat. I put no demands on myself. I went where the mood struck me. I wrote and wrote and wrote. I know that was a luxury not everyone has and I am grateful.

Time does not heal grief. Only grieving heals grief. You must let yourself grieve in whatever way feels best for you. Not every book has an answer for every person. You will feel lost, out of control, angry, sad, fearful, depressed, euphoric, vacant, acutely present, acutely absent. You will cry, you will laugh, you will yell. You will sleep for days and you will spend long, lonely nights wondering if sleep will ever come again. You will bargain, deny, accept, and bargain all over again. There are no “Five Stages of Grief”. There is no particular order. You don’t get through one phase then neatly move on to the next and then one day magically wake up and it’s over. Grief is ugly. Grief is messy. Grief is a gift you give yourself to honor the loved one lost. Grief is the price we pay for loving…the deeper you have loved, the deeper you will grieve.

I honestly didn’t start feeling totally like myself for about 9 or 10 months. I still have moments when something strikes me and I cry, but for the most part, I’m really doing ok. Personally, I could not have gotten through this without my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. And now, I’m ready to do something different, to stop talking about it to whoever will sit still and listen, to live my life again. I don’t want it to dominate every conversation. When someone you love is gone, your life will never be the same. You have to adapt to the new reality because the alternative is not good. If you need help, get it. If you are thinking of hurting yourself, call the Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255. If you need a personal Savior, instant message me. I’d be happy to talk with you about mine.

Everyone’s grief is different. This is mine.

? Ginny

Be Yourself...Everyone Else is Taken

Sat, 01 Feb 2014 02:30:20 -0600

“Be Yourself…Everyone Else is Taken”

I’ve been sitting here for the last 15-20 minutes trying to come up with something more profound than that, but I’m empty tonight. I had a productive day. I’ve been typing my manuscript which entails reading a lot of the things I wrote in the first few months after Mr. Virgo died. That is a lot like having your appendix removed without anesthesia. But it must be done now, while it’s relatively fresh and the raw bits are still easily accessed. It’s exhausting and I can only do so many pages before I’m emotionally drained. While a nap might sound nice, there is too much escapism involved there. I needed to get out among the living.

I drove to town and had dinner at the local brew pub. I had a cool old Bennett Brothers Catalog from 1963 to browse and escape to a simpler time. I had just finished eating when my ex-husband and his wife came in for dinner. I was so excited because I hadn’t seen them since Thanksgiving. They were going to sit in the next booth but I asked them to sit with me. We had such a lovely visit. We talked about the kids and the grandkids. What we did over the holidays. This and that. When his wife excused herself for a moment, I leaned over and told my ex how much I love her and how happy I am for him. I winked and said, “See? You got to have TWO fabulous wives in your life!” There were many, many years when he and I were not being genuine and it darned near killed the both of us. And now look. I had a wonderful marriage, albeit too short. And he is in the throes of an epic love. I love that!

Sometimes….sometimes you find an epic love, and for whatever reason, it doesn’t work. Poor timing, mismatched feelings, or for no reason you can even explain. The only thing you can do is remain true to yourself and be brave enough to speak. Always tell the truth when your feelings are involved because you know “what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive”. When left unspoken, words harden in your heart like cement. It’s much more difficult to get them out once they are stone.

After dinner, I went to the hot springs and soaked and soaked and soaked. And now I’m done. I’ve used it all up and tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow is time to recharge at church and watch the Broncos win the Super Bowl!

Have a blessed day, everyone.

Losing Focus

Tue, 28 Jan 2014 02:30:56 -0600

“Losing Focus”

Sometimes it seems there are more things that need doing than there is time to do them. I’m finding myself in that position as I try to purge my house of clutter and projects I will never in ten lifetimes get to. I need to lighten my load so that I can move forward with getting housemates to make this place pay for itself.

When I set my studio up a year ago, everything was in its proper place, all neat and tidy and ready at any moment when the creative urge struck me. When Mr. Virgo died, a lot of stuff got thrown into the studio to make room for the company who came to stay with me those first few days. Then I spent the majority of the next few months away traveling in TOW-Wanda. I told myself I would settle down after the first of the year and really get things cleaned out. Now, here it is, the end of January and I’m sitting in my studio, praying for direction. I called a friend and discussed a strategy and we conversed over the speaker phone for an hour while I got started. Once you get moving, it’s easier to keep moving. Thank God for good friends!

As I sorted and threw things away, I came across an ancient stationery box filled with little mementoes of my father’s and I sat down to go through it. He and I did not have a good relationship. He was a psychologically abusive alcoholic when I was growing up. He and my mother finally divorced when I was 21, and he moved back to the town he was raised in. He stopped drinking and became a Christian and everyone who knew him in his new life thought he was wonderful. They told me at his funeral what a gentle and caring man he was. How he volunteered and was an upstanding member of the church he and his second wife attended. This only served to make me more angry with him. I had tried all of my life to have a relationship with him and even though he had allegedly “changed”, his modus operandi with me was the same as it had always been…blame and shame. It only served to make me feel worse about myself and I finally had to stop beating my head against the wall. I had to let it go. I had to realize he was never going to be the dad that I had wanted, that I had deserved.

So, now I sit here at my desk with the only items I inherited from my father. An ancient stationery box, tied closed with a tattered brown shoestring. Inside is a cracked leather wallet containing nothing but a swim certification card and an ID card from 1942. There is a medal from World War II and some patches from his Army Air Corps uniform. A handful of shells from New Guinea. A tiny memory book from his Junior-Senior Banquet, corners crumbling, faded names of long dead friends written in pencil. A program for the Mackay Trotting Club Races with the bets in pounds instead of dollars. His high school diploma. A letter from the one woman he ever truly loved…not my mother…the woman who broke his heart and led him to settle for the next best thing in his eyes which, unfortunately, WAS my mother. His birth certificate and Notice of Certification for the military. A picture from the newspaper when he won a fiberglass fishing rod and reel the year I was born. The birth announcement from my second child. A postcard with a picture of the nursing home in which he eventually died after Alzheimer’s ravaged his mind.

Along with some snapshots, and an old sweatshirt his wife gave me, this is all I have of my father. This and the memories. The Christmas Eves when mom piled us in the car to hunt him down at some bar and bring him home. The time he knocked me off the piano bench then sat on the bottom step and cried. The time he brought a loaded gun to the kitchen when I was ten and begged my mother to kill him. But, if I sit really quietly, I can remember when he bounced us on his knee during the opening music of Bonanza, sending us reeling on imaginary galloping steeds. The time he took me fishing. The time he chased the neighbor boy off for peeking in the window at me, ready to defend my honor if need be. The time he taught me to change a tire and get out of a snowbank before he would let me get my driver’s license. The time he talked me through the steps of building my first birdhouse. I still have that birdhouse on my front porch.

Yes, there are hurts in our lives that we can never forget. But the ticket to freedom from the past lies in forgiveness. In letting go. In releasing him from the awesome, unfulfillable responsibility of my happiness. Thus letting that little girl, who still lives inside me, hold out her hands and release her death grip on the dove she has held to her breast for far too long…releasing it to fly ever upward. And in so doing, has bought her own freedom.

Antique Fork Necklace

Thu, 14 Nov 2013 02:30:09 -0600

“Antique Fork Necklace”

Just off the bench. A birthday gift for a friend!

Western Colorado Sunset

Sun, 15 Sep 2013 01:30:26 -0600

“Western Colorado Sunset”

I love “God moments.” When I get out of my car on Sunday mornings, I say a prayer between the parking lot and the door. It’s always the same. “Lord, please open my eyes and my ears, my heart, and my mind to Your Word. Let me learn from You and use that Knowledge in the coming week. Amen”

I haven’t been as involved with my church as I would like. Also, I’ve noticed the members don’t really go around and meet each other like they should. At the meet-and-greet coffee break, folks usually go visit with those they know. As I was heading in this morning, I got this very clear picture. I need to be a greeter! I’m a cheerleader. I’m a hugger. I’m happy and bubbly. I was BORN to do this! So…I added in my prayer “Oh, and Lord, let me greet Your children and welcome them into Your House.”

At the break, I was talking with an old friend. A woman came up and said, “Excuse me. I was asked by ****** ***** to come over here and ask you if you would like to be a greeter. You have such a friendly way about you and your smile just lit up the place when you came in this morning!”

I kid you not! I love how God works!

Mr. Virgo's Birthday

Tue, 10 Sep 2013 01:30:02 -0600

“Western Sunset”

The firsts are always difficult. Birthdays, Anniversaries, Holidays…the first ones after a loss bring many emotions. Sadness at the loss. Fondness of the memories. Joy with the knowledge that he got to see Jesus already!

Mr. Virgo, you are missed by all who knew and loved you. We will meet again!