Overcoming Obstacles on Marshmallow Ranch

Saving Bambi

Sat, 31 May 2025 04:30:00 -0600

Saving a little fawn from the floodwaters.

We’re in monsoon season here in West Virginia. We’ve had more than four inches of rain this week…three of which fell in forty-five minutes yesterday. We get long stretches of rain, and the ground becomes saturated. If what the old-timers called a “toad strangler” comes through, there is no place for the water to go. Then it rushes down the hillsides and through the hollers till the creeks can’t hold anymore. That’s when we get areal flooding, which, in our case, is the fields with the pollinator gardens. Only the three closest to the creek got hit, but the water was higher than I’ve seen in the eight years since I moved here from The Farm. Mr. FixIt has lived here since 1979, and he’s seen the water clear up to the pole barn and surrounding the neighbor’s house down the road.

When the rain let up a bit, I could hear the creeks roaring, so I put on my raincoat and boots to see what was happening. Those creeks were going so fast! I’ve seen the news stories about the devastating floods around the country, and I can understand the power of that water. As I circled the “far field” and made the turn toward the “near field,” I could hear an animal crying. It sounded like it was in distress, so I picked up my pace to get closer. I could hear it, but I couldn’t quite tell where it was. Finally, I called out softly, and it returned with frantic bleats.

When I determined the approximate location, I encountered another problem. The hedgerow around our fields is extremely dense. I had to get down on the ground on all fours and wedge my way into the dark thicket. The rushing water was no more than four or five feet in front of me. And there, standing at the very edge of the water, was a very tiny fawn. Barely able to stand yet, the baby cried out for me. I couldn’t reach her, and I was so scared she would fall in. If that happened, there would be no way to save her.

On my knees, sinking into the soggy leaf litter, I asked God to help me get her. I started talking to her in a soft, gentle voice. She wobbled her way to me on her Bambi legs, crying the whole time. She let me pick her up without a fuss, and I quickly got her to the pole barn. There were old towels in there, and we were safe from the rain. I grabbed a folding chair and sat down to inspect the little critter. She still had her umbilical cord, so she couldn’t be more than a day or two old. She didn’t seem to be injured in any way — just very wet and cold. Poor thing was shivering. I wrapped the towels around her and slowly dried her off. Her cries calmed down, and she fell asleep.

I stayed there till the rain was only a sprinkle. She stopped shivering. I debated what to do. It was still chilly and raining lightly. If I were going to set her out somewhere, it needed to be sheltered as best it could. I finally decided to lay her under the huge forsythia bushes along the fence, and hopefully her mama would smell her or hear her.

I could hear Mr. FixIt sucking up water in the basement from the flood. It was time to go inside and do the next job. Honestly, once spring hits, there isn’t a dull moment around here. That’s a good thing…because once I lay my head on the pillow at night, I can honestly say I gave it my all that day. And thank God for the opportunity.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”

So God created man in his own image,
in the image of God he created him;
male and female he created them.

Genesis 1:26-27

***Gratitude Journal*** Today, I am grateful I was able to hear that little fawn’s cry over the roaring creek waters and save her from a certain death.

From Meat Locker to Microwave

Fri, 16 May 2025 01:30:00 -0600

The ancient John Deere

Well, we are at that time of year when we casually walked out of the freezer and into the flame. We’ve been having these wonderfully cool days and nights. It made working outside pleasant and nights positively divine. Then we walked into hot and muggy weather…just like that. When I worked at our happy little homestead on Wednesday, the high was in the low 70s with a nice breeze. I barely broke a sweat. And now?

Ugh!

Ok…I know it’s going to get worse. I mean…it’s only MAY for crying out loud. But if you’ve been following me for any length of time, you know I sleep all winter with the window open. I don’t care if the temperature is -20°…I’m sleeping with the window open. So I’ve set myself up for this. I just don’t like, or tolerate, heat like I used to.

We went out to The Farm yesterday to mow. It has been two weeks since Mr. FixIt went out and mowed for me and that grass was thick and wet. The old lawn tractor out there is a John Deere from the stone ages and I just baby the heck out of it so it will last. It’s literally held together with spit and glue. It goes through oil like a big dog. We checked the oil level and it was dry as a bone so we put a whole quart in.

Mr. FixIt put a new battery on it two weeks ago because it wouldn’t start. I jumped on the tractor and turned the key. It wouldn’t turn over. It wouldn’t even crank….it just made a buzzing sound. Mr. FixIt and I looked at each other and sighed. We pushed it out in the yard and jumped it with the truck. It started right up so I proceeded to mow the yard. It’s not big…maybe 3/4 of an acre. I was almost finished when the mower started making a knocking sound and I stopped it right away. Mr. FixIt checked the oil again and would you believe, it was bone dry. We couldn’t find where we were losing it and we didn’t have anymore oil. We drove to the nearest little town and got some oil at Dollar General.

We bought a cold drink and some cemetery flowers and drove the ten minutes or so to the cemetery where my family is buried. I didn’t have enough flowers for everyone, so I put them on my mom’s grave and asked her to share them with Pop-Pop, Grandma, Uncle Sonny, And Uncle Bob. Someone had been up there since the last time I visited because there were angels and a glass cross and kitty on the headstones. It made me happy to some some came to see them.

We got back to the farm, put oil in the tractor, and I finished mowing the little bit I had left. Unfortunately, the tractor was still making the same noise. And it didn’t want to start. I sent a note to the new owner to explain what happened. We’ll see what they want to do. (We’ve been keeping the lawn mowed in exchange for me getting to stay at the farm whenever I want. It’s always been my safe landing place.)

It’s becoming more and more apparent that my time out there will eventually come to an end. There isn’t any running water anymore. There are trees that threaten to come down on the house if there’s a particularly bad storm. The roof leaks. The barn is beginning to tilt toward the creek. (There was a window in the barn that popped out from the pressure.) The electricity goes off way too easily and sometimes stays off for days. Yet, still…it is home.

It is home, but I’m weaning off the old girl. I’m so happy I can still go see her from time to time. I just don’t want to watch her die.

We stopped at the Pig on our way home. After supper, I watered the garden and the new plants I bought on Wednesday. It was another typical day at Marshmallow Ranch…filled with memories and hard work, heat and humidity. Oh, yeah…I got out my sourdough starter and fed her! I’m thinking we need some sourdough bread pretty soon.

Life is good!

🩵🌺🩵

“So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3‬:‭12‬-‭13‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today, I am grateful we can visit the old home place and take flowers to the family cemetery. I am grateful for the knowledge that someday, we will see each other again.

Happy Mother’s Day…Congratulations Graduates…What is Wrong with this Tractor?!?!?!

Sun, 11 May 2025 01:30:00 -0600

Y’all, I was so excited to get out to the pole building yesterday morning (after our yummy breakfast of eggs and grits) to finish up the repairs on the tractor. I put the new wheels on the mower deck the we put it all back together so I could go on the test run. Imagine my disappointment…after all that work over three days…and the tractor is doing the very same thing. You can get it to back up, but it has no power moving forward. It looks like we either have a transmission issue or there’s something blocking the gas or brake pedal.

We had to give up around 1:00 because we needed to get to the graduation party. It was a simple affair at a local restaurant with some of the family. We really enjoyed seeing everyone and celebrating the new graduate.

We’ll view more YouTube videos to see if there’s something else we can do. If you start getting into transmission problems on these things, it’s often less expensive in the long run to buy another tractor. We have to do SOMETHING soon or we’ll have to get someone out with a brush hog. We’ll decided today.

We stopped on the way home from the party and bought a new storm door. Ours faces directly west and they don’t last more than a few years because of the extreme heat. We also bought potting soil and containers for the rhubarb and the extra tomato plants. By the time we got home, it was 8:30 and we were done for the day. I’ll be back tomorrow!

I know Mother’s Day is sometimes littered with land mines. It isn’t always joyful…filled with sorrow or anger or longing. If you struggle through these holidays…I hear you. So I will say to all of you….no matter what…have a blessed day, get out for some fresh air, drink your water, and take a nap.

God is good!

🩵

“Then he returned to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. And his mother stored all these things in her heart.” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭2‬:‭51‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today, I am grateful for the women in my life who mothered me, whether they were related to me or not. And I am grateful for the memories of my sweet mama.

Another Bit of Time Travel

Tue, 08 Apr 2025 01:30:00 -0600

Where my grandparent’s lived in Pekin, IL - Credit: Zillow

I’ve been combining two of my hobbies in one this month. When I sit down to sit with Mr. FixIt when he watches some of his shows, I pull out my laptop and work on Ancestry and Google Earth at the same time. One of the best tools to help you with genealogy is the US Census. The other day, I was searching backwards in my maternal grandparents’ life together to see where they lived before I came around. I knew they had lived in Indiana and Illinois before and during the Great Depression, so I decided to look up their addresses on Google Earth.

I couldn’t find their home in Mishawaka, Indiana where my mom was born. The address is now a modern home so it’s obvious the land has been developed. I did find their home in Pekin, Illinois and was thrilled to see it. According to the 1930 Census, PopPop and Grandma lived in a rental house for $20 a month. Mom was four years old and Uncle Bob was two. They were poor as church mice, but they owned a radio. I imagine my great grandfather bought it for them. PopPop was 31 and Grandma was 25. (They were 21 and 17 when they married.) They were both able to read and write although neither of them went past 8th Grade in school. He worked as a mechanic for a construction company and Grandma was a stay-at-home mom. Since the house I found on Zillow with the same address was built in 1887, I am certain this is the same house they lived in.

They lived with two of PopPop’s brothers and their wives and families. At the time it was a boarding house. Grandma told stories about having to cook on a little stove on the landing between floors. It must have been nice for them to have family around, even though there wasn’t much privacy. During the Depression, they were happy to just have a roof over their heads.

When work petered out, they packed up and came back home to WV. They worked as sharecroppers in order to have a place to house their growing family. By the time they moved into the house at the farm, there were six children. Grandma told me her children would have starved to death if it weren’t for the two cows they had. They always gardened. They grew a patch of cane and a traveling man came every fall to squeeze the juice from the canes. Then she boiled that syrup down in the kitchen. My Uncle Bud says it used to rain in the house because of all the humidity that condensed on the underside of the tin roof.

As long as I can remember, grandma made do with what she had. She was so frugal, she would patch the sheet where their toenails and PopPop’s beard wore the cheap cotton away. She saved up feedsacks and when she had enough of one print, she’d take it down to Aunt Myrt to have her make a dress or shirt for one of the kids. She might trade some butter or something from the garden as payment. Aunt Myrt never sewed with a pattern. You could show her a dress out of the Sears & Roebuck Catalog and she could make it in any size.

When a blanket became too worn to use, she sandwiched it between two old patched sheets and she would have a new-to-her “quilt.” She and her sisters-in-law and some neighbor ladies would come over and help her tie the layers together with bright colored yarn. Their work clothes were always patched together but they usually had one outfit that served as their Sunday-Go-To-Meetin’ duds.

I’ve even found pots that had a hole in them that my PopPop patched with two washers and a nut and bolt. They had an old grinding wheel that looked like a stationary bike. They once had a big copper pot they used for making applesauce and apple butter over an open fire in the backyard.

One might say these were simpler times, and perhaps they were in some ways. But they weren’t necessarily easy times. I have to admit, I have become so used to everything being conveniently available on a shelf in a grocery store. I didn’t learn till recently you can make brown sugar by mixing white sugar with molasses! I’m turning 72 in a couple of months and I’m still learning new things…new ways to make things with ingredients instead of ready made.

You can look at these times as a crushing blow, a giant step backwards. You can get anxious or depressed or even disassociate yourself from it all. Or, you can treat it as a challenge…a game…see just how little you need to get by. You can learn to enjoy the simpler things.

You can find peace in many ways:

You can go out and stand on the grass in your bare feet.

You can read or write…stories, novels, cookbooks, journals.

You can plant flowers or a garden and get your hands dirty.

You can spend time with God every day…walking in the woods or a park, reading the Bible, praying.

I think I’m going to become “Everyone’s Grandma” and teach the youngun’s some old timey skills. It’ll give me something to look forward to and help me contribute to a new beginning.

🩵🌷🩵

“God has given each of you a gift from his great variety of spiritual gifts. Use them well to serve one another.” ‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭4‬:‭10‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***  
Today I am grateful to have a platform where I can share my knowledge and help others become more self-sufficient in the coming months and years. I give God the glory through my work.

Learn to Dance in the Rain

Mon, 07 Apr 2025 01:30:00 -0600

”Learn to Dance in the Rain” - AI by Ginny McKinney with Meta AI

Darlings…what a weekend! It has rained about 4.5” since Friday. The ground is so wet that when you walk across the yard, it’s like a bog. Squish…Squish…Squish. There is so much water in the pool, it’s pouring out the overflow. The creeks are roaring. But there’s no water coming into the basement. Ever since we started putting the root killer down the storm drain, it hasn’t overflowed. It came close Saturday night, but we put the crystals in and within twenty-four hours the water level was down two inches. We just have to be vigilant and use it regularly.

The water in the drain is not the only thing going down. I made the awful mistake of looking at my retirement fund last night. Here’s a helpful tip…DO NOT DO THAT! At first my heart sank. Knowing it is likely to fall more today is disconcerting. As hard as that is to take, I know God has always taken care of us and we are more precious than the birds in the fields. I know it’s hard not to worry, it really is. But last night, I just sat with God and told Him I put my life in His hands twenty-one years ago. I’m not backing out when the going gets tough.

Like most people, we are looking at more ways to cut our expenses. I think satellite is out. We’ll soon have fiber optic internet here. Once that is installed, we can drop the DSL line and stream what we can get online. I’ve cut out extra spending. We only buy what is necessary these days. I know we are taking this trip to the beach, but it’s already paid for as is my flight to Colorado this summer.

It is a good thing we don’t eat much meat anymore. We are going to make some raised beds for greens to add to our diet. I bake all of our bread. We don’t eat much dairy but I do keep powdered milk and canned evaporated milk in the pantry. I grew up making do with what we had. Yes…I have been terribly “advantaged” in my adult life. But, I’ve been studying and practicing homesteading and survival skills for a very long time.

We are heading into lean times, I’m afraid. And I’m not telling you all of this to worry you or scare you. I look at paring down to the bare essentials as more like a game to see how little we need to get by.

Happiness is most often mind over matter.

If you don’t mind…it don’t matter.

Do what you can with what you have.

Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.

Start small.

Slow and steady wins the race.

Pray about it. Pray over it. Pray through it.

And remember…the pendulum always swings back.

🩵🌷🙏🏼🌷🩵

““Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6‬:‭19‬-‭21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Gratitude Journal 
Today I am grateful for my humble upbringing with a grandma who taught me how to make do. I am grateful that I have a Heavenly Father who wants us to prosper and who will take care of us.

I Missed the Wedding!

Sat, 15 Mar 2025 01:30:00 -0600

Y’all…I had a long and busy day yesterday and by the time I got home, I was exhausted. The kitchen was a mess from all this sourdough stuff so I had to clean it before I fixed supper, then clean it after. You know how that is. Later, when I was ready to go out to the camper to write, I sent a note to my sister-in-law congratulating them for my nephew’s wedding. Then I said, “I’m really looking forward to seeing you on the live feed of the wedding tomorrow.” She responded, “We’re at the wedding now!”

I was crushed and just burst into tears. I thought for sure it was on Saturday…or maybe I thought yesterday was Thursday…but when I looked at my calendar, there it was! I called Mr. FixIt in the house and cried on the phone with him. Sweet man came out and hugged me. My S-I-L sent me a few pictures. That lifted my spirits. It was a gorgeous setting and they are such a beautiful couple!

It was just a long week with Mr. Virgo’s Angelversary, our friend’s health news, doing the income taxes, paying the other taxes, and then missing the BIG EVENT…it was just the straw that broke the camel’s back, so I’m cutting this short. A good night’s sleep will do wonders for my disposition. And now, since there isn’t a wedding tonight…I don’t have to miss our oldest WV granddaughter’s birthday party at the bowling alley tonight!

I’ll be back tomorrow.

💚

“Then the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.”” Genesis‬ ‭2‬:‭18‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today I am grateful for my sister-in-law and her family. She is Hubby #2’s little sister. I know that in some divorces, you lose your spouse’s family as well. I would have none of that nonsense. She’s been my baby sister since I met her when we visited her dorm at college and wasn’t about to let anyone or anything split me away from them unless that’s what THEY wanted. I’m so proud of them all.

A Roller Coaster Ride

Fri, 14 Mar 2025 01:30:00 -0600

Wouldn’t it be nice if things would just stay on an even keel for a little bit? Last year was one thing after another like a punching bag and this year seems to be shaping up the same way. A dear friend was just diagnosed with cancer and fortunately we live close enough we can offer help as needed. An I know this is small potatoes but with the cutbacks and a possible shutdown looming, we may have to cut out a lot of the travel this year. But that’s ok…it could be God’s way of saying we have more important things to do here.

I’m about ready to throw in the towel on this sourdough stuff. I tried to make another levain yesterday and it was watery again. I think I’ve figured out what is wrong. They didn’t have King Arthur flour at the store the other day so I bought White Lily. My sourdough smells different and it’s not at all pretty. When we go to town tomorrow, I’ll buy King Arthur and see if that makes a difference. I think White Lily is great for pastry and biscuits, but not yeasty things.

I went out the the camper last night and the sky was simply gorgeous. There was a Blood Moon around 2:30 this morning and I’ll let you know tomorrow if I had the wherewithal to watch it. I remember seeing a Blood Moon not too long after Mr. Virgo died. My next door neighbor was out of town and I was watching her house and her dog. She said I could use the hot tub whenever I wanted, so I went out and watched the eclipse while I soaked. It was incredible! It was really cold and that hot water felt great…but getting out and running to my house next door was rather chilling to say the least!

We’re heading into town today to have a late breakfast with my bonus daughter. Then Mr. FixIt has an appointment later in the afternoon. I’m almost finished with the taxes. I need a form that somehow got thrown away. It could take two weeks to get it mailed to me. I tried to go online and download it but the website is having technical difficulties. I maybe they’ll fix it soon. I talked to technical support and they said it could be two or three days. I like things that work. 🙄

It’s supposed to be really rainy here this weekend so maybe I can finally sit down and work on some projects!

💚

“When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers— the moon and the stars you set in place— what are mere mortals that you should think about them, human beings that you should care for them?” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭8‬:‭3‬-‭4‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***  
Today I am grateful to be able to help our friend in her time of need. I am grateful for her good doctors and pray for them to have steady hands and watchful eyes. Please pray for this cancer to be removed from her.

Today is Mr. Virgo's 12th Angelversary

Wed, 12 Mar 2025 01:30:00 -0600

The time keeps marching forward… further away from the actual loss. That doesn't mean he's gone from my memory or my heart.

For those of you who are grieving the loss of your special person, my heart is with you. Your grief is the worst in the world for the precise reason…it is YOURS. You watch the world around you in a dazed fog, trying to figure out which is worse…accepting their death or pretending they're just away on a trip. You feel like half of you is missing. You can't imagine living another day, let alone a week, a month, or years. I hear you. I didn't either. You move from thing to thing, mindlessly. You don't eat much, and when you do, it's likely a bowl of cereal standing over the sink. You spend money you shouldn't because you thing, "Why not? There's no way I'm going to survive this so I might as well spend to soothe." That's not a viable coping strategy…trust me. You lose all the color from your world…there's no music, or feelings, or hope, it seems. But, let me tell you…there is hope. I'm here as proof.

With less money, more wrinkles, and changes that can't even be described. But one day, you'll see colors. You'll hear music. and the tears will gradually be replaced with a gentle smile from a memory of your loved one. There will still be waves from time to time, but they don't drown you anymore.

Ever forward.

Ginny

At Home in the Country

Tue, 25 Feb 2025 02:30:00 -0600

When I was growing up in West Virginia, I could hardly wait to get out of there. I saw the place as old and behind the times. I wanted something…anything but what was here. When Hubby #1 joined the Air Force, I was thrilled to get out and see the world and live a more exciting life than what Appalachia could afford us.

Our first station was in England and was an amazing experience. But I was homesick…not so much for WV, but for my family. We decided to have a baby and Daughter #1 came along a year later. Life then took us to Colorado, the marriage fell apart, Hubby #2 came along and ten years later Daughter #2 followed. When marriage fell apart again and eventually Mr. Virgo entered the picture and I thought…this is where I’ll spend the rest of my days.

Well, just like John Lennon said, life is what happens when you’re making other plans. Mr. Virgo died and West Virginia beckoned once again. My life came full circle. I had dreams of a home in the country, but it just didn’t pan out in Colorado. I thought I had become ever so sophisticated…being a doctor’s wife and living in the big city. The closest to living in the country I ever got was the first house Hubby #2 and I bought. A five bedroom log house on two acres with a commanding view of the Flattops Wilderness Area.

Living with Mr. FixIt on our five acres is wonderful. But nothing compares to sitting on the front porch at my Grandma’s old house. It recharges me. As I sat out there yesterday afternoon…the sunbeams on my face…I searched my mind for other memories sitting on this porch. Sunday afternoons when the neighbors showed up for a visit and a cup of coffee with a sliver of pie. Sitting by my grandma stringing green beans for the canner. Watching my kids catch lightning bugs in a jar.

So much warmth and memories here. A life in the country is such a blessing. Spring is on the horizon and I’m here for it.

🩵

PS: After I wrote this last evening, Daughter #2 let me know she was being admitted to the hospital with this terrible respiratory illness that’s going around. Her wife stayed with her at the ER till they said they were admitting her and then went home. She’s coming down with the same thing. I would really appreciate it if you would send up some prayers for them both!

🙏🏼

“The Lord sustains him on his sickbed; in his illness you restore him to full health.” ‬‬ ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭41‬:‭3‬ ‭ESV

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today I am grateful for the excellent care my daughter will receive at the hospital. I worked in the Professional Building there for years and it’s the best! I’m grateful she has much better coping strategies today to keep her anxiety in check.

Looking Ahead

Fri, 21 Feb 2025 02:30:00 -0600

While I’m all about mindfulness and staying in the moment, I do need something to look forward to. The promise of camping in the spring helps get me through the winter. I give things to God to carry, and He directs me toward something to get me through trying times…step by step.

We are heading into uncertain times here, so I was searching for something reassuring. I know God laughs at us making our little plans. Last night, I sat at my computer and created a monthly banner for my blog to get me through the next four years. I don’t know why, but that small activity centered me and gave me a focus. Sometimes it’s just the little things we can do help us stay focused.

There’s one thing I am absolutely certain of…Jesus is always with me through every storm, up every mountain, and down to the deepest, darkest valleys. And He can be with you, too. He’s so kind and well-mannered. He isn’t intrusive. He waits till He’s invited. I honestly don’t know how people can get through the trials and tribulations of life without Him. Sometimes God leads us into rough waters…not to drown us, but to cleanse us.

I was just telling Mr. FixIt yesterday that I need to get back out to The Farm for my annual tax marathon. It’s time. The weather will improve next week with some warm days. That will be perfect porch-sitting weather. I need that!

🩵

“To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.” ‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭2‬:‭21‬ ‭NIV‬‬

***Gratitude Journal*** Today I am grateful that God directs me to the ways that bring me peace and that I am open to listen to His guidance.

#Jesus, #Guidance, #Tribulations

Uh-Oh!

Tue, 18 Feb 2025 02:30:00 -0600

Somehow, my iPad went into restore mode. I’ve been deleting things off it to make more room, then this popped up last evening. Yikes! I’ve been running this thing on spit and bandaids. It may very well have kicked the bucket! I’ve relied on this iPad for ALL of my writing for the last eight years. Let’s hope I can give it CPR in the morning!

Everything else is good. I took the Christmas decorations down yesterday. I’ll write more tomorrow when I get this thing figured out.

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

I’m on a News Strike

Tue, 21 Jan 2025 02:30:00 -0600

What a Chilly Week Ahead!

Yeah, I know…I can’t keep my head in the sand forever, but there is nothing wrong with taking a break for a little self-care when everything just seems to spin out of control. I can’t control the news cycle, but I sure can control my consumption of it and all things social media. I love the “social” part…chatting with friends and family, seeing pictures of grandbabies and funny cat videos. However, if you find the current state of affairs totally overwhelming, back off and take care of yourself for awhile. I have the notifications on my phone set where I can take a cursory glance and if it’s nothing I need to deal with in the moment, I move on.

That being said, I didn’t watch a single thing newsy yesterday. I crocheted on the market bag, which I think is going to turn into a basket for yarn that will sit by my Big Red Chair. When you crochet with seven strands of yarn at once you get a nice stiff-sided basket, but it is pretty heavy to tote around shopping. We watched reruns of some of our favorite detective thrillers then settled in to watch the Ohio State v Notre Dame National Championship. I’m rooting for OSU!

My View Every Morning

We neither one stepped foot outside yesterday. The high was something like 9° and since it was MLK Day, the mail didn’t run so there was no need. I warmed up beef stew for supper and we were happy as little clams. I fed the sourdough starter so I can bake today. I need to make sourdough, sandwich bread, and maybe English Muffins again. They sure were good the last time, but I’m going to make a different recipe this time. The last ones were really complicated.

I tried going downstairs to sew, but it is WAY too cold to hang out down there so I came back upstairs. Maybe I can set up somewhere warmer. Or, maybe I’ll hang out in the office and write. I just felt shiftless yesterday and wanted to veg out for a while. It’s OK to avoid facing uncomfortable things, as long as you don’t buy real estate there. I’ll be back at it shortly!

❄️🩵❄️

“For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.” ‭‭2 Timothy‬ ‭1‬:‭6‬-‭7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***

Today I am grateful for a safe place to land when things get rough in life. Number One is God’s arms. He is always there for me. And Number Two…Mr. FixIt. He is always there for me on this plane. I thank God every day for the gifts I’ve been given.

#gratitude, #mentalhealthday, #nonews

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

I’m Home, But….

Sun, 27 Oct 2024 01:30:00 -0600

All the way home, I wasn’t quite sure the truck was actually fixed. Something felt off but I decided it’s just getting older…like me. I have creaks and pops from time to time. I made it all the way home with no problems. Got the truck unpacked, unhitched the camper, and was getting ready for bed when I realized I was out of something important. I just hopped back in the truck and drove over the hill to town. On the way back, at the bottom of the hill….you guessed it. The truck died the same way it did before at the beach!

Unless this is an easy fix, I’m done pouring money in this old truck. I’m sad thinking of the possibilities this might entail. However, I went to sleep with GREAT gratitude that God got me home before the truck bit the berry. I could have been on the top of some mountain somewhere. Or in that tunnel!!! Instead, I got to run into my sweetheart’s arms for a great big delicious hug!

Life is basically good, y’all. You just get knocked around a little from time to time. That’s all.

🩵

“Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.”
‭‭James‬ ‭1‬:‭12‬ ‭ESV‬‬

#troubles #faith #oldtruck #breakdown

The Equality of Marriage

Sun, 26 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

Meme Credit: Internet

Last night one of my knitting friends sent me this meme and asked if we could relate. OMGosh! Yes! I love this man with the white-hot heat of the sun. I don’t have a problem going into Rural King and drooling over the power tools for an hour. But ask him which he likes better…the Carolina Sunset fingering weight or the Chunky Monkey wool blend and his eyes glaze over. Sweat starts to bead up and he may suddenly need some fresh air. You’d think I’d asked him to drop trou for a prostate exam in front of everybody.

Men are just different animals entirely. My husband is one of the most patient men I’ve ever known. And if I asked him to go in the yarn shop with me, he probably would. But for the same reason he doesn’t ask me to the bowling alley anymore, I don’t insist he accompany me on one of my junkets into the world of all things yarn. We both know which one leads to a happy ending.

We have an ongoing “battle”…if you want to call it that…over the pool. I think it’s a time and money suck that’s never ending. I’d like to take the pool out and put in a lovely outdoor living area with the grill at one end and a fire pit at the other. Perhaps a pergola or a covered area where we could sit in the cool of the evening and enjoy our yard. Instead, we have an elevated deck whose boards are slowly decaying one, three, ten at a time. And the pool looks like it’s a leftover movie prop from The Creature of The Black Lagoon.

But here’s where my love for him comes in. After questioning his sanity for ten minutes as to WHY he wants to keep pouring money and time into something that we get in four times over the summer and that’s just to clean it…I smile and take him to the store to get the required chemicals and parts and sand, etc. etc. etc. Why? Because, he likes the pool more than he likes the idea of changing it. And that’s ok. It’s not going to break the bank. After all, I DO buy yarn and books on occasion and I could certainly do without those, too. We are of an age where we balance our needs and wants based on joy and good stewardship.

We got the cover up on the pergola. I vacuumed the bottom of the pool to get up some of the leaves. We bought new chair cushions, but we need to power wash the chairs before we set them out. We need to change out a few boards that are rotten and then power wash the deck and water seal it. It makes no sense to me, but neither does five tubs of yarn and fabric down in the basement make sense to him. It’s give and take in any good marriage and I’m grateful for the opportunity to have this beautiful life…even when we make each other just a little bit crazy!

I hope you all are having a great weekend!

🩵

“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

The Perspective of Time

Tue, 07 May 2024 01:30:00 -0600

I have a group of gals who get together periodically and camp. We have a group text where we catch up and plan camping trips and figure out who’s bringing what for meals. Yesterday, we received the sad news that one of the gals lost her husband last week. He was quite a bit older than her, but was generally healthy till the last couple of months so she certainly didn’t expect to become a widow that day. Then again, who does?

I also received a text from Hubby #2 asking for some dates he needed. I had to sit for a few minutes and try to figure out…when were we married? When were we divorced? It gave me pause. An event that I truly thought I couldn’t possibly survive, let alone recover from, had become more of a distant memory than anything else. It isn’t in the forefront of my thoughts. To be able to be friends now is so much more important to me.

Time is such a slippery thing. When I was newly divorce, and newly widowed, I was wounded to my core. The future was indecipherable…unimaginable. There were so many questions. Would I ever survive this? Would I ever find joy again? Would I ever have peace? You can’t imagine that the answers to any of these questions would be yes!

That doesn’t mean the hard things go away. There is a place in my heart that still grieves over the loss of that marriage. You aren’t with someone 20+ years and not be affected for the long term. I still have dreams about him. Some say that’s unfinished business. I say that’s your heart rewriting the story to fit reality. My grief from divorce was similar in ways to the grief of losing Mr. Virgo.

Hearing of my friend’s arrival to widowhood made my heart ache for her. When you’ve been down this road, you have an understanding…an unspoken kinship. You just “get it” at an entirely different level than someone who hasn’t experienced that loss…yet.

If you or someone you know is grieving, please know my heart is with you. There are no rules, no guidebooks, no recipes of how to get through such a loss. You just have to look for support where you can get it, and keep moving forward…one day, one hour, one minute at a time. Till you can breathe again.

💔

”The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.“
Psalms 34:18 NIV

This is My Heart

Sat, 24 Feb 2024 02:30:00 -0600

This guy right here…he’s been mine since the day I was born. I’m not sure my mom knew anything was wrong with Bubby till I was around two years old. A lot came down on my mom around then. Her brother was killed in a plane crash in Germany. And they told her my big brother had Cerebral Palsy and had intellectual disabilities. It was a hard time for her…for all of us. So much sadness. I didn’t understand what any of that meant at the time. He was just my Bubby. I was his champion. I interpreted his speech for others. I protected him from bullies. He was my whole world and I’ve loved him forever.

Remember when I told you a couple of weeks ago that I had a couple of special people with health issues? One of them was my Bubby. They called me on a Wednesday afternoon and they told me he was in the ambulance heading to the hospital. His nurse said it was dire and could I come right away? Traveling from West Virginia to Colorado in the winter is wicked awful and bloody expensive. Of COURSE I would go, but I asked her to please wait to see what the ER doctor said. Thank God they were able to give him medication and get him straightened up, but the kept him overnight for observation, just to be sure he was ok.

He’s fine now. It was an abnormal heart rate due to a medication change. This time. But I know it’s likely there will be a time when I’ll have to make that emergency trip to be with him when he needs me. I can’t bring him here. It’s a matter of funding. If he changes to West Virginia funding, it could take ten years to find a placement. He’s much better being where he is with people who know him and love him.

We had his annual review Thursday and it did my heart good to see him happy and doing well. We are both enjoying seeing each other on the Echo Show a couple of times a week. And, we’ll see him this summer during our annual trip to Colorado. In the meantime, the staff sends me pictures from time to time so I can see what he’s been up to. His latest adventure is ROCK CLIMBING!

Isn’t this the coolest thing???

Oh….my heart!

🩵

”A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.“
Proverbs 17:17 NIV

Humpty Dumpty Had a Great Fall…and a Great Cup of Tea!

Tue, 13 Feb 2024 02:30:00 -0600

Knitting group was small this week…just three of us. We really did more talking than knitting. There was cake and coffee but I didn’t partake. Not that cake and coffee are bad foods…I just didn’t care for them. At some point, one of the gals needed help with something and I stood to help her. When I did, the back legs of the chair got stuck in the carpet and I ended up hiney over teakettle. Somehow I got tangled up in that chair and could not get out. I scraped the front of my left shin and got a deep bruise in the thigh of my right leg. I strained my right wrist and right ankle and hurt my lower back. Holy smokes…all that from standing up!

As we age, we have a higher risk of falls. Vision issues, medication side effects, and simply age related changes can cause falls in those over 65 can be an indication that you need to have a conversation with your doctor to evaluate what’s going on. I’ll call my primary caregiver and inform her I’ve fallen twice now since late November. That’s not an outrageous number, but something I want to stay on top of. I’m fortunate I didn’t break a hip or something.

I worked on a new blanket yesterday and ended up ripping it out when I got home. This particular pattern has to be done with great concentration…not while conversing with friends. I also crocheted a small basket that I might use at Easter for the littles. It was a quiet afternoon with my sweetie…warmed up spaghetti for supper and lots of Bull reruns. Nothing really big to report.

One of the lovely ladies that attends the Monday Morning Knitting Group brought in this little baby quilt. They were hers…and she is 80. Aren’t they precious???

I hope you’re having a good start to your week. It’s going to be rainy here. I would have gone out to the camper because I really love hearing the rain on the roof, but it was supposed to get down to 33° with a winter mix. No need to go out there when I wouldn’t be comfortable. I’ve kinda gotten past the urge to prove myself capable in that setting…been there, done that. I just stayed in my comfy little house with the window open so I could hear the rain…and the screech owls. And whatever else comes our way.

But first, a lovely cup of Blue Lotus Traditional Masala Chai in my Big Red Chair! As my grandma used to say…it’s good for what ails ya!

🩵

”They did what your power and will had decided beforehand should happen.“
Acts 4:28 NIV

All That Glitters

Fri, 01 Dec 2023 02:30:00 -0600

My brother, my heart!

OMGosh! I had to be in town yesterday for two separate appointment four hours apart so there was going to be a little shopping done. However, Mr. FixIt asked if he could come along with me to buy a tube of glue. Even after I offered to get him the glue, he still expressed interest in tagging along and of course, I love having him tag along. I can always buy his present later!

We went out to breakfast at our favorite diner and I splurged with a pancake, eggs and bacon. What a treat! Afterward, we sat in the parking lot waiting for the phone conference I was invited to. My brother has an update every six months and we do it over video chat so we can see each other. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. He looked happy and it made my heart sing to see him doing so well.

We went to the mall later and walked all over the place. Getting in our daily steps is more difficult when we’re done with mowing season and it’s cold outside. We killed a couple of hours then headed to my appointment. I learned a lot of things yesterday. The biggest of which is… dry eye disease is a much bigger deal than I thought it was. My avid use of the computer these last ten years has done a job on my eyes. We are working on a treatment plan but it is definitely something that must be dealt with right away. I’ll need to cut back a little on my screen time till I get some of the inflammation under control. So, there may be some writings from the archive from time to time when my eyes are feeling especially uncomfortable. I do hope you will understand.

We stopped for a quick dinner at Wendy’s and when we got home, I turned left to check the mail. That’s when he said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa… don’t pull into our road!” Something was glittering in the light. I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. After I checked the mail, I swung the truck around and turn the headlights on high and there was the evidence of an accident of some sort right in the middle of the entry to our road.

Mr. FixIt found an area where it was safe to drive in, then we went and got a broom, head lamps, and a broom. I started sweeping up the broken glass and my sweetie picked up the bigger pieces of the grill of a car. I saw skid marks on the white line along the side of the road. I didn’t see any evidence of a second vehicle so, even though there wasn’t any blood, I’m sure someone hit a deer. From the looks of the glass, I’d say a side window was broken, too. Once we had the biggest part of the mess cleared up, I did a cursory search just to make sure there wasn’t a car off the side of the road or an injured deer but there was nothing. I’ll look again today when it’s light.

So it was a good day, overall, and we got a lot done.

Welcome to December!

🎄

“You shall serve the Lord your God, and he will bless your bread and your water, and I will take sickness away from among you.”
Exodus 23:25 ESV

Catching Up With a Dear Friend

Fri, 29 Sep 2023 01:30:00 -0600

“Grandma’s Farm” - c.1997 - Colored Pencil on Paper

A lot of things get put on the back burner when I’m up to my eyeballs in chores here at Marshmallow Ranch. I got a little reprieve because it rained a lot on Wednesday and through the morning yesterday. And you know what that means! No mowing!!!

I had a thing for drawing quilts when I worked full time and didn’t have time to create one myself.

I holed up in the office all day catching up with phone calls and shopping for new eyeglasses on Zenni. My dear friend Steve came over so I could help him change his Facebook page to include his soon-to-be bride. Steve became a widower the year before Mr. Virgo died and he really took a long time to do things like clean out his wife’s personal items. Finally, sometime over the winter, he decided he was ready to find a partner to spend his Golden Years with.

Another one I found.

As his close friend, I was glad he wasn’t one of those men who go out shortly after their wife dies to find a “replacement.” But he’ll be the first to tell you, he wasn’t interested in replacing his gal. And, like so many, when he really WAS ready, Sharon crossed his path and lightning struck again! He totally changed his house in preparation for her…redecorating, painting, and putting down new floors. It was finally time for him to move forward. So, along with his internal and external housecleaning came a change in the Facebook page and his status…ENGAGED! I was honored that he asked me to help him make it the perfect landing place for sharing his expanding family with the world. It turned out perfect, and he was able to keep all the friends he had from before…including those of his late wife. I’m so happy for him. And proud of all the hard work he did to get to this place. I know what he went through to get here.

“Daughter #1” - c.1997 - Pencil on Paper

Now I’m creating some personalized Christmas gifts he ordered while he was here. Hey…captive audience! I told him a little shopping spree in exchange for all that computer time seemed like a fair trade!

Interesting…I drew the picture on the left in ~1997. My marriage was on the skids and I often dreamed of a peaceful place where I could just be myself and be happy. I totally forgot about this drawing till I found it stuck between two pages in my old portfolio. The picture on the right is my Big Comfy Chair in our family room here on Marshmallow Ranch. A message to God…a plea for relief…delivered in HIS time.

Other than my back hurting from sitting in this chair too much yesterday, I feel refreshed. Much better than the day before. Thank you all so much for you continued support and encouragement. You’re always there when I need you! Mr. FixIt goes to town today, so I’ll be working on those gifts and doing more with the family room.

It was a good and productive day.

“He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.”
Proverbs 18:22 NIV

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It’s Apple Harvest Time. Time for a fresh candle to warm up your cozy nest!

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A Day of Spinning my Wheels

Mon, 03 Apr 2023 01:30:00 -0600

It was a day of rest, for sure…but I also piddled around on the computer downloading elements for my designs. It feels good to be creating again. I posted two sets of Grief Support Greeting Cards in my shop with the same sentiments I offer in my writings. They’re quite simple with a line drawing of a flower behind the dual-font script. The inside is blank for your own message and each comes with its own envelope. They are sold in packets of five. These are the first cards I’ve attempted and I hope you like them.

This pear tree is loaded with blossoms!

It was pretty chilly here at Marshmallow Ranch yesterday. The only real job we did was replace the gas cap on the Lincoln. The warning light came on the other day saying the gas cap wasn’t tight. It was off the next time I turned the car on, but the “Service Engine Soon” light came on and has stayed on. I replaced the gas cap yesterday and we drove the car around a little but the light is still on. I think maybe when we fill up the car, the light will go out. Let’s hope it isn’t anything major.

You can’t see the gas cap in this photo, but I had to slip the harness off the old cap and put it on the new one. The plastic is 21 years old now and I was scared to earth I’d break it but it went right on like it was supposed to.

Car troubles…what a pain in the neck. We started out buying junker cars because that’s all we could afford. Then when money wasn’t quite so tight, we never let a car get 100K miles on it. Now were back to buying “sensible” cars and running them till they won’t run anymore. I’ll never buy a brand new car again…especially at today’s prices!

Daughter #2 had a birthday yesterday. As a matter of fact, I got to talk to both of my girls. It’s always a treat to hear their voices. I used to get my nose out of joint if they didn’t call me as often as I liked. Now, if I want to hear their voices, I call them. They’re a heck of a lot busier than I am. I know they felt pressured to call me and I’m sure that contributed to them not finding the time. Ask me how I know this. I did the same to my mom when I was their age but I soon mended my ways and called her every Sunday night like clockwork.

Our crab apple tree is rotten in the center and needs to be cut down.

I also got to talk to my sweet brother yesterday. He wasn’t feeling well last week so they put off his move to this week. He’s getting more frail and needs to be in a setting where he has 24/7 assistance. He was very proud of himself that he had almost all of his stuff packed! He’s had so many challenges in his life and it makes my heart happy to hear a lilt in his voice. It’s been difficult to reach him by phone in the home he’s been living in. He is hard of hearing so he doesn’t always hear the cell phone ring. And he has a difficult time hearing on the handset of the landline phone in his apartment. Once he gets in his new place and has staff there all the time, we should be able to speak more frequently. I want to get an Amazon Echo for him so we can video chat every week. I think that would be good for both of us. He owns such a big piece of my heart.

Rhododendron Dauricum: A miniature compact shrub, sometimes called Japanese…although the literal translation is Siberian Rhododendron.

The weather is supposed to warm up the next few days. Wednesday is predicted to hit 85°!!!! It’s what always happens…we go from meat locker to microwave in an instant. No time to acclimate! Some more severe storms are due the middle of the week. Let’s pray for the safety of those in the path and that things settle down some. I hope there’s a little time before we get heavy rain again. We had standing water in our yard this weekend that looked like a pond. We had 2” of rain in a little over a day.

Think I’ll work on the quilt today!

Tick Tock, Tick Tock…the wedding will be here before we know it!

⏰??

“Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. Then he prayed again, and heaven gave rain, and the earth bore its fruit.”
James 5:17-18 ESV

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*I designed some tender grief support cards over the weekend and posted them in the shop. We all know someone who is grieving. I like to have a few cards tucked away because we don’t always have time to go out and get one when it’s needed. And if ever a card is needed, it’s to support the bereaved.

Set One: https://www.etsy.com/listing/1438665604/grief-support-greeting-cards-5-pack-set

Set Two: https://www.etsy.com/listing/1452879063/grief-support-greeting-cards-5-pack-set

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support!

Storm’s a’Brewin’

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

Eastern Phoebe sitting on the satellite dish outside the bedroom window.

Our laundry room is in the basement. As with most houses built in the late ‘60s to early ‘70s…the convenience of main floor laundry facilities was likely something found in the homes of the well-to-do. Unless, of course you counted the backwood houses with a wringer on the back porch or in a shed out back. Because our laundry is downstairs, it doesn’t get done quite as regularly as it should. As such, we often have to make a trip down there to get a daily essential. In my case last night…a nightgown.

As I walked through the bedroom to look in my chest-of-drawers, I glanced over and saw my mother’s flannel “granny gown” folded neatly on the safe in the corner. I don’t know why, but I’ve kept it there for the last couple of years. When my uncle sold the farm, I found it in a gift box with a tag… “To: Wanda From: Peeps.” It was a Christmas gift, tucked away on a high shelf and forgotten lo these many years. Mom died in 2004.

When I looked at the nightgown, my mind raced back to the Christmases I received one just like it as one of the few presents I got from Mom and Dad. It made me smile. I can still remember curling up in that nightgown under the sheets and a pile of blankets. I drew my knees up and pulled the heavy flannel down over my legs to my toes to help warm me up faster when I first hopped in bed. Electric blankets were a luxury we could ill afford. And the heat was always turned down low overnight to save money.

I dug around in the drawers and eventually came up with something that would do in a pinch to keep from heading downstairs. As I was rummaging around, I heard the storm coming. I hurriedly changed, turned off the light, opened the curtains wide, and jumped into bed to write. The lightning crashed and echoed off the surrounding hills…illuminating the room in that eerie flashbulb fashion we all know.

I love storms…especially here in West Virginia. Sometimes they are slow moving and it seems like it will rain forever. Other times you can see the weather radar in your mind’s eye…tracing the deep red and yellow blotches of color coming from the West, sweeping over us, then quickly heading over the high ridge to the east. Storms are comforting to me. But then again, I have never suffered through severe storms like this country has seen worsening over the last few years.

Mr. FixIt and I went to town yesterday to pick up some groceries and we were talking about the severe storms this week. It made me wonder. Do other countries have tornadoes? I’ve never heard about tornadoes in any other part of the world other than the USA. Why is that? If it weren’t for the fact that the dinner table is an electronic-free zone, I would have Googled it. Do any of you know? I know there are hurricanes and typhoons and cyclones in other parts of the world…but what about tornadoes?

We are due to have severe winds again today with gusts up to 70mph. That’s worse than last weekend’s storms which took out trees and had our power off for seventeen hours. We’re better prepared this week in case the electricity goes out again. I hope you all are safe and know you are all in my prayers! Let us know what’s going on in your neck of the woods.

“…you will find refuge…”
Psalm 91:4 ESV

I posted the eight aprons on Etsy yesterday and they are so stinkin’ cute!

A Busy Windy Day

Sun, 26 Mar 2023 01:30:00 -0600

I started off my day slipping quietly out of the house early to meet a few of my classmates for our ‘71 Divas Do Coffee gathering. It was so good to see the girls…some of whom I hadn’t seen since our class reunion last August. They all looked so wonderful and healthy. It did my heart good to spend time with them.

It was getting really windy by the time we came out of the coffee shop. I had a couple short stops to make before I headed back to Marshmallow Ranch. Mr. FixIt was just finishing his lunch when I got home and then he got back to work on the hallway. I noticed a few things in the project on Friday night that I wanted to tidy up so I did spend a little time working on the computer.

Mr. FixIt had just finished and was sitting down to watch golf when the lights started to brown out and flicker off and on. We kinda held our breath, but we knew it didn’t look good. Sure enough, about ten seconds later, the electricity went off and that was that. I brought a take-and-bake pizza home to cook for supper but without power, we were pretty much out of luck. Since he ran out of caulk for the moulding in the hall, Mr. FixIt suggested we run into town to get more and then go out for supper.

We stopped at Walmart to buy the caulk, but the near empty parking lot told us the power was out there, too. Of course, Lowe’s next door would be no help. We decided to go up to Vienna to the Walmart on that side of town. Walmart didn’t have the caulk, but the Vienna Lowe’s did and we were soon set.

Since we were on the north side of town, we decided to head up the river to Marietta, Ohio for the best ribs in the Mid Ohio Valley…Boathouse BBQ. Since the beginning of the pandemic, we have been very cautious about eating in restaurants hence we ordered our food to go and ate in the car overlooking the sweeping view of the river. Between the high water and the stiff winds, the river looked more like a muddy ocean with choppy white-capped waves than its usual placid surface. I would have loved to sit out on the beached dock, but the wind had a decided nip to it even though the temperature was in the seventies. So, we sat in the comfort of the car. I cant tell you how many “car dates” we’ve had in the last three years.

On our way to the restaurant, we passed an apartment house with an enormous tree that crushed the roof in. I haven’t heard anything, so I do hope everyone was safe. I watch a scanner page on FB and there were reports all over town of down trees and power lines across a large swath of the surrounding area. As we drove slower to home, we saw some of the electricity was restored but alas…ours was not. There was no indication on the power company website when the service might be restored.

As I am writing this, we have the battery-powered camping lantern on the table beside Mr. FixIt’s Big Red Chair and I am sitting happily in the dark on my side of the room tippy-tapping on my keyboard…writing my thoughts to you. I have to say, I’m loving the peaceful camaraderie with no TV. The peepers are going crazy out there and this might be a night to sleep in the camper. Maybe I’ll hear an owl…or a whippoorwill. Or just a calmer wind blowing through the trees on the ridge top beyond the far field.

“He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.”
Psalm 107:29 ESV

The Continuing Saga of Country Living

Tue, 21 Mar 2023 01:30:00 -0600

Mother Earth is waking up. The grass is getting green. A few more warm days, a few more good rains, and mowing season will be upon us in a hurry. This means I’ve got to “make hay while the sun shines”…so to speak. I fixed breakfast and took my bagel and egg sandwich to the Big Red Chair and set to work.

It was a day of frustration. The internet was spotty at best. And right in the middle of my peak performance, someone on the website I was using decided it would be a really good time to switch things around on the home page so that the procedure I’ve been using daily for three months was suddenly rendered inoperable. It was one of those day when you want to tear your hair out but Mr. FixIt had better ideas. He decided it was time to change the door on the refrigerator in the “Big Birdhouse”…the a-frame we are selling.

When we had the camper at the dealership to fix something, the service guys put a deep scratch on the front of the refrigerator door. I pointed it out to them and since it was still under warranty, they ordered a new one for us. I don’t know how many of you have travel trailers, but you can’t get a part to save your lives since the pandemic started. They ordered the fridge door in November. When I hadn’t heard from them by February, I contacted the service department and they said the door wouldn’t be here till June! They didn’t want us to wait till then (and since we’re selling it, I’m praying it won’t still be here then) they took the door off of a different unit and sent it to us with a label to send our door back to them. Since it’s going to rain today, yesterday became the perfect day to make the exchange.

It really wasn’t a difficult job. We just took the bottom bracket off and Mr. FixIt slid the door right off the hinges. We repeated the process backwards and the door was replaced in just a few minutes. I spent some time inside the camper cleaning and getting it just perfect to sell then I closed it back up. Mr. FixIt was busy painting a “Camper for Sale” sign when I headed back in to work. I cleaned the door we took off the camper and got it ready to ship back to the dealership and I’ll take it in tomorrow to the local UPS drop.

We are past the worst of the cold weather now. We are supposed to be up to 72° by Thursday then continue with temperate weather. We survived another winter and even though I haven’t completed everything I set out to do by this time, I’m not far off. I can see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel!

“The plans of the diligent lead surely to abundance, but everyone who is hasty comes only to poverty.”

Proverbs 21:5 ESV

#Work, #Camper, #TheProject

A Sense of Accomplishment

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

It’s truly wonderful to end a good solid day of work with a sense of accomplishment and gratitude. Listing all four big items at once had its up and down sides. On the upside, we got it done in a hurry. On the downside…we got it done in a HURRY!!! Mr. FixIt didn’t expect me to list all the campers at once and the big hybrid was still filled with Mr. FixIt Jr’s camping gear from several years ago. All that needed to be taken out, so it got stuffed in the back of Frankie the Ford.

Then, the Franklin sold fast. I told the fella that bought it I would go out to the farm on Wednesday morning and get all the wood, windows, and screens that had been removed to make room for renovations. They’ve been in the barn since 2017. However, in order to go to the farm and load up, we had to unload the camping gear that was already in back. There just weren’t enough hours in the day, so with great apologies, I told the new owner I would have to bring the items to them ASAP.

We had rain forecast for last night, so we needed to hustle. We still had some of our own camping gear in the cab of the truck, so as Mr. FixIt emptied things, I sorted them and put what we could use in the new camper. The rest we set aside for Mr. FixIt Jr to get at his leisure. Once the truck was emptied, we headed over to the farm. The first thing I noticed when I got close enough to see the front yard was the big old elm tree that has been dead for years was down. It turns out, it came down in the bad windstorm we had last weekend and the neighbor across the road cut it up. I’m so grateful it didn’t come down and hurt anyone.

Once we got the truck filled up again, we headed back home. The people we bought the camper from had extra things for it like windows and wood and we had a window out of an old mobile home we thought we’d put in it but then time got away from us and our interests went elsewhere. We drove the load up the the new owners in Ohio and they are just the sweetest people ever! They had another old camper there. I walked around the corner to look at it and ran right smack dab into two of the cutest little donkeys! It was a fun trip.

We stopped at Lowe’s and picked up our new hose reel then went to Wendy’s for a little late supper. We finally got home about 10:00 and we’re beat! I don’t think there’s anything more scheduled for the week…but, there’s not much week left, right? It’s good to be busy and productive…and so grateful for the strength to do the things and for the blessing of having things to do!

““For there is hope for a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that its shoots will not cease. Though its root grow old in the earth, and its stump die in the soil, yet at the scent of water it will bud and put out branches like a young plant.”
Job 14:7-9 ESV

Something to Remember

Tue, 21 Feb 2023 02:30:00 -0600

We learned yesterday we have a couple of challenging medical issues in the family and I surprised myself at how I handled it. I have been known to…how shall I say…crumple under the weight of such things. Three years ago today, Mr. FixIt had his first stroke. Heading into the month I lost Mr. Virgo, such news rocked me to my core. I held it together till they took him up for the MRI, at which point I threw up.

I guess I’ve never been a cool cucumber during times of stress. I have to tell you though…most of the crumpling happens when I think about what COULD happen. What MIGHT happen. What WILL happen. Nine times out of ten, I move right through the issue when it ACTUALLY happens. Mr. FixIt’s first stroke was one I didn’t handle so well.

I don’t know if it’s age. I don’t know if it’s the wise counsel of Daughter #1. Or maybe just the old adage that practice makes perfect. But, something’s changed…shifted. Lately, when something comes up that might be a real gut wrencher and I feel the anxiety start to rise, I remind myself that God has carried me through every other tough thing. Like Mr. Virgo’s funeral. I didn’t think I could live through that, but like the Bible says…God has plans for me. He held me through every tough moment.

I had a flash of insight the other day. Getting anxious and wigged out about stuff removes the opportunity to snuggle in close to Jesus. Anxiety is ME trying to avoid the situation and control the outcome. That’s not my job. MY job is to trust that God has my back, that whatever’s going to happen will happen, and wigging out about it isn’t going to change anything or make it go away.

I am enough. I don’t HAVE to be more. I don’t HAVE to be perfect. I don’t HAVE to worry about every little thing. The Bible also tells us we cannot add a single hour to our lives by worrying. If the birds are fed without bother, how much more will God do for His own children?

These glitches we are facing aren’t life threatening. They are unpleasant. They are even a little scary. But I choose to believe everything will be ok. And if they aren’t, we’ll deal with it when the time comes. As Daughter #1 says, “I don’t have the bandwidth to carry all that, Mom. I look at the options and choose to believe the best case scenario, unless or until that is no longer possible.”

This I DO know…I am a total noodle without God.

I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.”
Jeremiah 29:10-11 MSG

Self Care Isn’t Selfish

Mon, 28 Nov 2022 02:30:00 -0600

Actor Jonah Hill interviews his therapist, psychiatrist Phil Stutz in this touching and eye-opening documentary on Netflix…Stutz.

Last week I had a moment. I was burning the candle at both ends, running on little sleep, and trying to put on a memorable Thanksgiving Extravaganza. Then I hit the wall on Thursday and, even though there was SO much left to be done for Friday’s gathering, I gave myself permission to crawl back in my bed, pull the cozy covers up to my ears, and drift off for a few more hours of much needed rest. I sacrificed the extra baking by asking Mr. FixIt to stop on his way home from town and buy readymade pies. I knew the rest would get done and if it didn’t…it certainly wasn’t the end of the world. As it turned out, everything came together at precisely the right moment and came off without a hitch.

Self care isn’t selfish. It’s imperative that we take care of our health…physical, spiritual, and mental. Without it, there is no moving forward. If there is anything good to have come out of the pandemic, it is an increased awareness of mental health struggles. I think we all can watch the news and social media interactions and see a great number of people aren’t at their best right now. It’s frankly a little scary to see systems we always trusted to run somewhat smoothly break down in the most unexpected ways.

The people we have in our lives are there for a reason. There is a lot of truth to the adage that people are put in your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Some just come to share information. Some are there to teach us lessons. The ones I find most valuable to me are the ones who hold up a mirror and reflect back to me who I am in any given moment. We change, we grow, we move on. But sometimes, we remain stuck, trying to change the outcome of something which is futile. The past is unchangeable. It’s what we do with the information and the lessons that propel us forward that count most.

Hubby #2 and I went through a lot. We both had wounds that we recognized in each other. In our naïveté, we came together thinking we would heal each other and be together for the rest of our lives. That isn’t how it worked out. And there was a terrible amount of angst involved in the unraveling. I sank into a deep clinical depression and for a variety of reasons, was nearly doctored to death trying to come out of it. It took a long, l-o-n-g time for both of us to evolve enough to have deep conversations. I cannot speak for him, but for me, it offered the healing I longed for but just couldn’t reach while we were together.

A week or so ago, Hubby #2 sent me a message and recommended I watch a documentary on Netflix called Stutz. It’s directed by the actor, Jonah Hill and is about his therapist, Dr. Phil Stutz. This is groundbreaking. For a therapist to allow himself to be so vulnerable as to open up the way he did in front of the camera was remarkable. It demonstrated the profound trust the two of them have for one another. Jonah extols the virtues of Dr. Stutz’s teachings and credits the tools he learned in therapy for saving his life.

When I lost Mr. Virgo, I got through it…perhaps easier is not the right word. It’s more like I had been through such a terrible loss at the end of my marriage, the resultant therapy facilitated a grief journey I was much better prepared for. Had it happened the other way around, I am fairly certain I would not have survived my husband’s death. I had a lot more tools in my toolbox. But nothing quite so well articulated as the tools Dr. Stutz taught Jonah.

I decided to wait till after Thanksgiving to watch Stutz. And, I preferred to watch it alone. I knew it would stir up lots of memories and feelings and I wanted to process that without having to share it in front of Mr. FixIt. There are private moments of grief that we don’t necessarily need to share with anyone else. That’s ok. As I waited for the right moment, I wondered if Dr. Stutz had written a book. I checked online and, indeed he did. He wrote a book with Barry Michels called The Tools…5 tools to help you find courage, creativity, and willpower and inspire you to live life in forward motion. I immediately ordered it and it arrived the day before Thanksgiving.

Mr. FixIt went to town last night to hang with his bowling buddies and I knew it was my moment to watch the film. I was entranced. I stopped, rewound, paused to reflect, and started again. The 90+ minute film took me nearly three hours to get through. I want to watch it again…at least once…before I delve into the book. I absorbed a lot of it, but the biggest takeaway was this.

No one gets it right. The whole of life is a process and you will mess it up royally, but that doesn’t matter as much as simply learning to move forward through it.

These are difficult times we’re in right now. Empathy and compassion seem to be in short supply these days and any tools we can find to help us navigate the rough waters of life are blessings. I picture a world where the tools spread from one person to another to make a great wave of healing. Yes…God is the ultimate physician and God can heal us of anything and everything. And…God can touch the minds of brilliant people and inspire them to great insights into the human condition that can help people cope. That’s what I felt in this film…because it came from a place of pure, authentic love and respect.

If you get a chance, do give it a watch. There are a few coarse words in the conversations between Jonah and Stutz, but it doesn’t take away from the message overall. I’ll let you know what I think of the book when I get through it. In the meantime, remember…take care of yourselves. And each other.

“Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh? Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’ If you take away the yoke from your midst, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday. And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail. And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to dwell in.”
Isaiah 58:12 ESV

Not What I Wanted to Wake Up To

Sat, 22 Oct 2022 01:30:00 -0600

I’ve been practicing the military method of falling asleep. And…so far, so good! I’ve been falling asleep quickly, and staying asleep all night and it’s been amazing. Yeah, ok…it’s been less than a week, but I have hope. I’ve never been a great sleeper. I have had trouble turning my brain off at night. This sleep technique that the Army teaches their recruits claims to bring the Sand Man in less that two minutes and I’m just going to believe that and run with it!

I woke up yesterday morning…the sun was up, Mr. FixIt was softly snoring beside me, and I felt wonderful! I reached for my phone and found a series of puzzling messages on my Lock Screen. They were from the fraud prevention at my bank. It seems someone in Australia tried to put a $1200+ charge through…under five different names. Thank GOD there are these fraud protections in place now!

A couple of months ago, I purchased a vintage apple peeler off the internet. There were a couple of red flags, but I REALLY wanted that particular peeler. So I hit “valid” when they asked if it was actually me behind the card. Then, I waited. And waited. And waited some more. I kept going back to the website where I purchased the peeler and it said “In process.” The little red flags were turning into big red banners in my brain and I called my bank.

My only option was to freeze my debit card permanently and have the bank issue me another one. Or, give it a little more time since it was coming from out of the country. (Yes…that was the red flag I chose to ignore because…I REALLY wanted that peeler!) We decided to give it a little more time, but when it came down to the cutoff for a fraud claim, I told the bank to file it. I still didn’t elect to get a new card. ALL my bills are handled electronically…by that card. What a pain in the rear. The bank said they would clamp down the security on my card an alert me at the first questionable transaction.

And, that they did. At 4:00 yesterday morning. I hate to have to go through this mess, but honestly…as often as I use that card on the internet, I’m shocked it hasn’t happened more often. I love my bank in Colorado. They’ve been my “hometown bank” since 1986 and I kept my accounts with them even after moving to West Virginia. They always help me out and alert me to any kind of problem. And, my debit card has a painting on it by my friend Mary Noone who passed away recently. That card makes me smile every time I see it.

We are binge watching Grace and Frankie and even though there’s quite a bit of irreverent material in it, we really get a kick out of it. Especially since the main actors are “seventy-somethings” and are so relatable. Robert had a heart attack. Sol has retired and become an activist. Grace had a knee replacement and Frankie had a TIA. They are vibrant and yet they struggle with their memory, their physical limitations, and navigating the specter of aging in place vs. a “retirement community”.

Mr. FixIt and I face some of the same things with our health and memory and the house becoming a lot more work as we age. We hate it and we fight it and we figure it all out together. For now, that’s fine. But there will come a time…down the road…hopefully, WAY down the road. How did we get to be seventy? We don’t FEEL seventy…and we certainly don’t ACT seventy. We’re brave and profess age as “just a number”.

I’m going to have to reach back to a few years ago when I wrote a lot about “positive aging”. More movement. Improved diet. Better sleep hygiene. Mental stimulus. Time to get back to basics and stay healthy as long as we can.

“no weapon that is fashioned against you shall succeed, and you shall refute every tongue that rises against you in judgment. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord and their vindication from me, declares the Lord.””
Isaiah 54:17 ESV

Here Comes Winter

Tue, 18 Oct 2022 01:30:00 -0600

Oh, it’s so hard to have cold weather on the heels of such pretty days, but here it is. I did something really stupid yesterday morning. A totally rookie mistake. I got everything put together to leave except for bring the slide in. I wanted to see if there were any leaves on top of it. I walked out to the road in front of the campsite and stood on my tippy toes and could see there were just a few leaves up there. I was trying to figure out how I could get up there and blow those things off with the leaf blower when I notice there was room along the side. I could back the truck up, stand on the tailgate, and those leaves would be off there in a jiffy.

I jumped in the truck, started it up, and drove about a foot forward when I realized I’d made a TERRIBLE mistake. That’s when I realized…I hadn’t unhooked the truck the night before like I always do. The back end of the camper was on the jacks and my moving it forward bent them up terribly. Oh, I was so mad at myself! I managed to get them up far enough that I could drive home. And I thought about it all the way back.

I decided to stop at the local RV place and get them replaced. I know we have one new scissor jack in that hardware store we call a building, but they didn’t have one to match it at the RV place and I didn’t want our pretty camper to look all hinky. This particular camper didn’t come with jacks on the front so we’ve been jerry rigging old stand jacks under the tongue. I figured it would look better to have matching jacks in the back, then we can order one jack to match the one in the building and we can put those on the front in the spring. Problem solved. Still…I felt pretty bad making such a rookie mistake.

I stopped to dump the water tanks on the way home. When I got there, I opened the hot water tank to drain it as well as the low water points and the freshwater tank. After the water was all gone, I turned the bypass valves and ran RV antifreeze through all the lines. So that’s the end of the water usage for the winter. We can still use the camper, of course. It just won’t be quite as convenient.

This has been such a fun month packed full of camping. It’s hard to let it go.

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”
Galatians 6:9 ESV

A Full Day and Then Some

Thu, 08 Sep 2022 01:30:00 -0600

My Happy Place

Remember yesterday when I told you I never know what I’m going to end up doing any given day? Well, that’s how the day turned out. I started out in the kitchen…with two pressure canners running. My little one holds seven quarts or nine pints. The big one will hold twenty pints on two levels, but still only seven quarts. I finished canning the green chili and got six more pints for a total of eleven. Then I did a run of seven quarts of pinto beans. I canned an eight pound bag of Walmart’s Great Value Dried Pinto Beans and got twenty pints and seven quarts for a total cost of $5.98 plus a little bit of my time. And they’ll taste so much better than processed beans in a can.

Homecanned Pinto Beans

Some of you asked for my green chile recipe. I put a link to a recipe the other day that I looked at. But I always end up making my own version no matter what a recipe says. So, here’s mine as best as I can tell you. I rarely ever measure anything so I’ll do my best to relay it accurately.

Pork Green Chile

1 quart cooked pork (I always use butt roast cooked in the slow cooker till tender)
1.5 boxes of chicken bone broth
2 jars of 505 Southwestern Flame Roasted Green Chiles, 16oz. each
1/4 c. dehydrated minced onions
1 to 3 tsp. minced garlic, to taste. I used 2 tsps.
2 heaping tsps. Ground Cumin
1 heaping tsp. Ground Black Pepper
1 heaping tsp. Smoked Paprika

Mix all the ingredients together in a slow cooker. Mix a couple of heaping tablespoons of all purpose flour in with 1/2 cup of water or use some of the extra bone broth and stir it in the chile. Heat on high till hot and bubbling around the edges and is slightly thickened…about an hour or two. It’s even better when served the next day as the flavors marry. Serve piping hot with tortillas or a quesadilla to dip in it. I like to squeeze a wedge of lime over mine and add a dollop of sour cream on top. Yummmmm!

This freezes or cans well. I canned mine in pints because I usually heat it up and pour it over burritos.

An alternative would be to cut the meat up in chunks when it’s raw and add the rest of the ingredients and let the meat cook with the chiles. When I make a pork roast, I use it for a hot meal first with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes. Then I make another meal of cold pork sandwiches. So, I already had cooked pork in the fridge.

While I babysat the canners, I started knitting a new sweater. I decided to try a simple turtleneck version this time. I’m using the same yarn but a darker blue that would go great with denim. This pattern calls for a mock turtleneck, but Gail tells me I can just knit it longer so it folds over. I really love this designer out of Denmark…PetiteKnit. The pattern is called Novice Sweater. What can I say…I’m still learning the ins and outs of sweater making even though I may not be a rank novice. I’ve been working really hard the last couple of weeks so I am taking a sabbatical for a long weekend with my knitting needles and no work. Just good food…and maybe a nap!

As soon as I finished the canning, I headed out to the mower and got everything finished. I came in around 5-ish and made cold pork sandwiches and potato salad for supper. There is something wonderful about having food made up ahead of time that you don’t have to cook. The day was perfect…75° with intermittent clouds. Mr. FixIt and I went out after the sun set and it was so cool and lovely.

Passion Flower

Crab Spider…caught a ride on my hat!

African Lily

I contacted the service department yesterday and even though our camper has been there for six weeks (THIS time), they still have not received the parts they ordered to fix it. I’m just about done with this. Ohio has a generous Lemon Law and I’m about to have a discussion with them. This isn’t right. We’re missing our favorite camping season completely. More than a little frustrating.

In the grand scheme of things, no matter what kind of inconveniences head my way, I still have a pretty blessed life. The Bible doesn’t say we MIGHT have troubles from time to time. Instead, it tells us we WILL have troubles, but when troubles strike, remember whose child you are and straighten that crown!

“When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all. He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken.”
Psalm 34:17-20 ESV

Mr. FixIt to the Rescue!

Wed, 24 Aug 2022 01:30:00 -0600

Mr. FixIt was still reading the news in bed when I left to go knit yesterday morning. I stopped and picked up my coffee, found a good parking spot, and headed in to visit with my knitting crew. It was a bittersweet morning, but we exchanged contact information and vowed to try to find another venue for our gatherings. Pat, the store owner, gifted the members of the knitting group with a lovely goody bag with yarn, a knitted piece, a cute dishtowel, a pattern book, and some notions. What a sweet gift none of us were expecting.

We knitted till mid-afternoon then I ran an errand and headed home. Mr. FixIt went to town to pull the tomato plants and bring the stakes home and he wasn’t back yet. So, I jumped on the riding mower and got to work. When he got home, he started up the weed eater then the push mower. I stopped at around 4:30 to fix supper.

For some reason, I have been thinking about something Mom used to cook all the time. Hamburger gravy. Mom usually served it over toast or mashed potatoes…and sometimes refrigerator biscuits. I used to use tube biscuits a long time ago. I’ve tried over and over to get my homemade biscuits just right and…even with Miss Brenda Gantt’s Buttermilk Biscuit videos…I still couldn’t perfect them.

As I was knitting on Sunday evening, I watched YouTube videos about Appalachian foodways and found one on foolproof biscuits. Tipper Pressley writes the blog “Blind Pig and the Acorn” and her YouTube Channel is “Celebrating Appalachia”. She tells a story about trying to learn how to make good biscuits when she was a new bride. She was finally given a recipe that was…literally…foolproof.

You can watch Tipper make these biscuits by following this link.

Tipper uses White Lily Self-Rising Flour and says you don’t even need to write this recipe down. It has to be self-rising or you’ll need to add 1/4tsp. salt and 1 1/2tsp. baking powder to every level cup of all purpose flour if that’s all you have. You use two parts flour and one part heavy whipping cream. That’s it. I used two cups of self-rising flour and one cup heavy whipping cream. Stir it with a fork till it just comes together, scoop it out on a lightly floured counter top, fold it twice then pat it down with your hands till it’s maybe 3/4” thick. Cut it out with a 2” biscuit cutter and bake in a 425° oven for 12 minutes.

These were the best biscuits I’ve ever had. I liked them so much better than the ones made with buttermilk and Crisco. (Sorry, Miss Brenda!) I had the ground beef crumbled. fried, drained and set aside. I mixed up the gravy and put the biscuits in the oven at about the same time. Once the gravy was done, I added the ground beef and as soon as those biscuits came out of the oven, I broke a couple open in the bottom of a bowl and ladled on the piping hot deliciousness I remembered from my childhood.

Mr. FixIt and I watched an old rerun of Andy Griffith while we ate and I’m telling you…I think I felt my mom smiling down on me. I know my grandma was because there’s nothing she loved more in this world than a perfect biscuit to sop her gravy up with!

As soon as we’d finished eating, I hopped back on the tractor and was almost finished when I looked down and there was some weird looking piece of metal sticking out from under the mower deck. I immediately turned off the mower and went to get Mr. FixIt. It turned out to be a piece of trim inside the front edge of the mower deck that helps to reinforce it. The metal was already bent and not salvageable so he figured we could just cut it off.

First, we had to figure out how to get the mower up on ramps. Mr. FixIt bent the piece back so it wouldn’t puncture the front tire. I couldn’t drive forward because the piece of metal kept sticking in the ground. So, I backed the mower to the driveway and we ran it up on the ramps we use when we’re changing the oil. We got the saws-all and my sweetheart had that thing cut off in less than a minute so I could finish up the mowing before dark.

And that’s how our work day ended at 8:00 last night. I was super glad to have that job finished. Now, I can clean up the kitchen and I’m free to go to the farm or just sit here at home and knit to my heart’s content for a little bit. I took some more photos yesterday morning. The flowers are so pretty…what few we have.

“The hand of the diligent will rule, while the slothful will be put to forced labor.”
Proverbs 12:24 ESV

I’m Not Your Typical Girly Girl

Thu, 04 Aug 2022 01:30:00 -0600

When I went to school, we took an aptitude test that would give some idea what career path you might enjoy. While many of my friends were getting results like doctor, nurse, lawyer, and teacher…I came out as a mechanic. I was mortified but later in life learned that interest would serve me well as an adult. I studied to be a Radiologic Technologist…a career that is quite mechanical based. Drawing blood, visualizing internal structures, reading x-rays all require special thinking…something I excel at. When it came to doing things around the house and building things, I was aces. I can tear things apart and put them back together. Even the simple tasks of putting up a tent or towing a trailer involve a great deal of mechanical skills. And besides…they’re fun!

When I was canning the half-runner beans last week, I had two canners going on the stove top. The two larger burners are on the right front and the left rear. My smaller canner was on the left and it was pushed back against the control panel on the back of the stove. I remember smelling a very slight odor that reminded me of melting plastic, but it was fleeting. I had some plastic containers a little to close to the stove so I assumed that was where the smell was coming from.

When I was cleaning up everything the next day and wiped down the stove, I noticed I had actually melted the left side of the control panel. The buttons would not work on that side. So, Mr. FixIt showed me what pieces to order to fix it. They arrived on Tuesday, so yesterday morning after breakfast, I unplugged the stove and pulled it away from the wall far enough to get back behind it to work.

I had no idea how to change this piece, other than a general understanding of “plug and play” electronics. I found the right tool to take the cover off the back of the stove. I carefully observed the panel and how it was connected to the power. There were four screws holding it in place. Philip’s head. I got the right screwdriver and removed the panel being very careful to place the screws in a small bowl for later. I unplugged the power connection on the panel and removed the four screws. The whole panel easily slid out from the opening and I set it aside.

Using a damp cloth with some grease cutting detergent, I wiped down the area and placed the new unit in the opening. I reinserted the four mounting screws and plugged in the panel. At this point, I plugged in the stove to test the control panel and it worked perfectly! I screwed the back cover in place, cleaned up all the drips and grease from the sides of the stove and the cabinet wall. Then carefully slid the stove back in place.

Voila…done!

The next chore was replacing the cover on the secondary filter assembly on the pool pump. Mr. FixIt bought a new one and we soon figured out this was a two person job. One of us had to plug a drain hole while the other removed the old like and replaced it with the new one. Try as I might, I could NOT get that lid to seat right. So, we switched places and Mr. FixIt gave it a shot. He was sure it was the right piece, but this pump is a different brand and the size was off by the slightest of margins. We ended up putting the old lid back on and now we’ll have to take the new lid back and exchange it.

As I was straightening the living room and moving some things out of the way for the carpet dude who is returning today, I noticed places where the termites have made small holes in the wall. I wasn’t around when Mr. FixIt discussed the treatment plan, and I like to have a thorough understanding of what is going on and what to expect. I’ll have to call the termite dude today and quiz him. It may be perfectly normal to get migrating termites after a treatment…I don’t know. But I’ll find out…if for no other reason than curiosity.

I have always had to assume a good deal of the responsibility for repairs at the house. Hubby #2 was a doctor and was gone a lot. Mr. Virgo was NOT mechanically adept in the slightest and I did the repair things that I could to save money. Then, when I became a widow, there WASN’T anyone but me to do stuff. Thank God for YouTube videos and how-to books. Mr. FixIt is often stunned that I not only CAN do these kinds of things, but that I WANT to and genuinely LIKE to do them. I think he kinda beams when I can figure something out. And when I am finished with a job, he invariably says, “Great job, baby!”

That’s when I kinda beam right back!

“Do all things without grumbling or disputing,”
Philippians 2:14 ESV

Somebody Bring Me a Bottle!

Sun, 19 Jun 2022 01:30:00 -0600

Be still, my heart…this green!

No…I’m not looking for a drink. I gave that up twenty-one plus years ago. What I want is a bottle that I can preserve this day in. Some way to put it on a shelf and save it up for January. Honestly, it could not have been a more beautiful day. With a high of 74° and a clear bluebird sky with a lovely breeze and brilliant sunshine, the green was so intense it almost hurt your eyes!

Mr. FixIt ran to town first thing to tie up the tomatoes and do a little weeding. I ran to town to see if my package I’ve been waiting for was at the post office, but it was already out for delivery. I’ve been waiting for the new mounting bolts for the carburetor that I replaced on the push mower. I thought six were in the package, even though it only takes two. Well, when the mail was delivered later, there was only one bolt. I held my breath as I installed it because it doesn’t take much to strip the threads.

I got the bolts in…one old, one new. I turned the gas flow on and waited. No leaks!!! Whew! Now, to start it. It turned over on the second pull, but the throttle still surges. Doggone it. We fiddled with it and got to where it will mow, but something still isn’t right. We’ll have to take it in and see if they can adjust that throttle or perhaps it’s a fuel line issue. In the meantime, it is workable…enough to do what we need it to do, anyway.

I went ahead and finished with the riding mower and Mr. FixIt ran the weed eater. He mowed half the back yard with the push mower and I finished the other half. Somehow when we were working on the carburetor, I injured my wrist pushing myself up off the ground. I’ve had a little trouble with the joint at the base of my left thumb, but now it’s bigger trouble. I’ve got a thumb stabilizing wrist splint on it to keep from banging it and to remind me not to try to put my weight on it to get up.

I can still knit, though. So…there’s that!

Dodged a bullet on that one!

“All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.”
2 Timothy 3:16-17 ESV

It’s That Time of the Trip

Sat, 28 May 2022 01:30:00 -0600

This is the point in the trip when I say to myself…”What on earth was I thinking??? I’m too old for this!” I got a decent start yesterday. There was a portion of the drive with no rain. And, there was a goodly portion where I thought maybe I’d made a wrong turn and was in a car wash! Holy cats!!! Of course, you have to slow WAY down, which adds time to your trip but give you a better chance of actually making it. Of course, if the truckers had their way, they would have used cow catchers on the front of their trucks to just move us slow pokes out of the way. Relaxing, it was not.

I killed time by asking Siri to read me a story. The folks who program her have a great sense of humor and I soon found myself laughing out loud with delight. It’s the simple things. The sky lightened up in the middle of the day and I thought just maybe we were home free. But, not so much. The sky on the horizon got darker and darker the closer I got to the campground. I pulled into a grocery store to pick up something for supper. Mac and cheese I could heat up in the microwave. And a “superfoods salad”. Comfort balanced with healthy.

As soon as I came out of the store, the sky opened with a vengeance. And, of course, when you are parking a camper, you have to park way out on the periphery. I waited a while but it didn’t look like it was going to ease up any time soon so I made a made dash for the truck. The upside was, the rain wasn’t freezing like a Colorado rain, so I was ok. I got to the campground and went into the office to sign in. There was a woman ahead of me, and by the time I got checked in, there was a line of campers out on the road. Oh, right…this is Memorial Day Weekend! Welcome to camping season!

The owner escorted me to my site, a pull though, than you God! I waved him off and just sat there till the rain slacked up a bit. It finally did and I got the camper set up. I am getting the hang of doing it quicker, but its still a king-sized pain in the patoot and it’s not going to work out for me. It’s one thing if you are going to a campsite and staying for a week or two. It’s quite a different deal if you are moving every day. NOT convenient for that kind of camping, but still a very cool camper overall.

I’d have to say, the trip home is always more challenging. I’m tired. I’m cranky. I’m a month older. I haven’t had a shower in five days and I have to drive with me in the truck! I’m leaving this morning in time to get the camper to the dealership to fix what has now become a laundry list of things that shouldn’t need fixing on a brand new camper. I’ll gently yet persuasively give them a piece of my mind. I’ve been told I have a way of telling people to go to H E double toothpicks and they don’t seem to mind the trip. Maybe I can pull that off again!

Mr. FixIt is waiting for me at home!

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
2 Corinthians 12:9-10 ESV

Just Breathe!

Thu, 26 May 2022 01:30:00 -0600

Ok…I’m going to vent a little. Sorry.

We bought this camper in October. Brand new…never been used. When I was preparing for camping this spring, I discovered the refrigerator doesn’t work. Ok. These things happen. I took it in and they couldn’t get it fixed before my trip to Colorado so I brought it with…sans refrigeration. No big deal. That’s what coolers are for, right? Then…when I picked it up to bring it with me on this trip, I noticed a leak. They’re going to have to fix that. There is a glass cover that opens and closes over the sink that is attached with hinges. Every time I tow the camper, the vibrations cause the screws to come out and fall down in the sink and I have to use a special tool…which I do not own (I used Ben’s) so I’ll meet to get one and also see if they can do something about that. Maybe some sort of adhesive? Also, every evening when I stop to camp, the microwave has creeped it’s way deeper into the cabinet that holds it and I have to fish it out. At least it isn’t falling out on the floor!

Add to all that, it has been raining since I hit Nebraska and it hasn’t stopped. Putting the camper up and down in the rain is a pain it the neck and the interior gets wet (including my bed, which I was non to happy about!) When I got the the park last night after driving six hours, there was one site left. A walk in. You get the registration from from the kiosk, fill it out, put half of it on the post at your site, put your money in the envelope and drop it in the post back at the kiosk. Well, one site, right? I wasn’t about to find the site, then drive back around to drop off the money, then come back again to back into the campsite. In the rain. And, I wasn’t about to walk uphill in the rain to drop it in. I called the reservation number, gave them my info and told them I am a trustworthy individual. I’ll drop the money off in the morning before I leave. I told her if that wasn’t good enough, she is welcome to send someone to knock on my door and I’ll be happy to give them the money.

I was on the phone straightening out my reservation for Friday night when there was a knock on the door. The nice man in the camper next to me asked if I knew I’d left the window down on the driver’s side. In the rain. Argh! I trudged out and closed it, fished out a towel and sopped it up as best I could, and came back in…soaked to the skin and cold.

I believe we’ll be trading in the sweet a-frame and getting a free standing camper that isn’t so fussy. I’m too old for this ****! lol

Ok, I’m off my soapbox. Tucked in, listening to the rain. I had grapes and cheese and yoghurt for supper and I’m warm and dry under the electric blanket. First world problems notwithstanding, I am incredibly blessed and almost half way home!

“Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.”
James 1:12 ESV

Vicarious Trauma and Senseless Loss

Wed, 25 May 2022 01:30:00 -0600

Something happened Monday night that I didn’t tell you about because I wanted to ruminate on it a bit. I do my best thinking when I drive and this deserved some serious cogitation. I was settled in for the night in The Big Birdhouse out by the garden at my son-in-law’s parents house. Ben and Sue are kind enough to let me plug into the electric out in the shed so I can have my own little space and “pretend camp” in the driveway.

I had already made the decision to pack up and head home yesterday morning and was just finishing up my scheduled post when Sue texted.

“Ben is coming out to get you in here. Cops are looking for two armed and dangerous men!”

I jumped up and threw a few things into an overnight bag just as Ben knocked on the door. When I opened it up, there were flashing blue lights all over the place so we locked everything up and quickly scurried inside. The neighbor had alerted Sue and said the police were scouring her yard. We went around and closed all the blinds and locked all the doors including the deadbolts.

I noticed Ben rummaging round and half-joking asked if he was getting his gun. He is a retired policeman. He came around the door and asked if I wanted one, too. I only paused for second when I took the loaded revolver and placed it on the nightstand beside my bed. I was sleeping in the guest wing and wasn’t close enough to feel protected. Yet….

My heart is changing about the issue of firearms. Mr. Virgo was all about protecting what was ours…including our lives, our stuff, and our right to bear arms. I took a concealed carry class and had a permit. When we worked on the ranch in southern Colorado, we both open carried when we were out on the property because there were dangerous characters out there…two-legged as well as four.

When Mr. Virgo died, he left me with no less than seventeen firearms…most of which I traded in for a beautiful diamond ring. I did, however, keep his beautiful western nickel plated long barrel .357 as well as the replica service revolver. After he died, I carried a .357 with me whenever I traveled alone…in my camper and in my truck. I felt safer with it and that was the point.

However…as I have aged and I have seen more and more senseless gun violence, I am less inclined to carry it with me. For one thing, there was a terrible injured deer at our place a couple of years ago. I asked my friend Sparky who I should have come put it out of its misery for me. She laughed and said, “You’ll probably just have to do it yourself. We live in the country, you know?” I knew. I was no stranger to hunting and I was no stranger to putting a suffering animal mercifully out of its misery.

I carried the loaded .357 out around the corner of the house where the poor deer was standing. I carefully took note of the surroundings to make sure I wasn’t overlooking any danger beyond the animal. I was not shooting towards a road or another house. There was nothing but unpopulated hillside on the other side of the deer. I carefully raised the weapon, took aim, breathed through my shot, and the gun fired. I felt the strong kick of the force in my hands. And looked trepidatiously to see the damage done to the poor doe.

Nothing.

She stood there with her big doe eyes, looking straight at me, still chewing the mouthful of grass she’d been munching as I aimed.

This told me something about myself. If I can’t hit a deer not fifteen to twenty feet away from me in a calm and calculated fashion, I sure as hell can’t hit an attacker in the heat of a violent act. I no longer had the heart for it.

My guns have remained in the safe, locked away ever since. I’ve kept them for a couple of reasons. If I really HAD to, and the lives of my loved ones were in danger, I would try to protect myself and them as best I could. And, they are one of the last things I have that belonged to Mr. Virgo. AND…I don’t want them in the hands of some nefarious character where they might be used in a heinous act.

Like the shooting of more innocent children yesterday.

Babies. They are still shooting babies in their classrooms.

I wish people were as anti-gun violence as they are anti-abortion.

Once I heard that news, I knew why I didn’t sleep much Monday night with that weapon two feet from my head. I pulled off the road early, got a campsite, and quit for the day.

Vicarious trauma…when the violent events of the world deeply affect those who witness it, read about it, see it and hear it on social media and the news.

It’s just too much for this mama’s heart.

May we never become so numb to the ugliness that we don’t fight for a better world. May we not hide our heads in the sand. May we be strong and courageous and stand up for what’s right and protect the innocents among us.

Yes…my prayers are with those who suffer needlessly. But it’s time for more than “thoughts and prayers”.

The time for bandaids is long gone. It’s time for real and lasting change.

❤️‍?

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler. Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name. For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God? And “If the righteous is scarcely saved, what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?” Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.”
1 Peter 4:12-19 ESV

High Fives and Hot Water

Sat, 30 Apr 2022 01:30:00 -0600

There is ALWAYS something that needs to be fixed…especially when you live on a farm!

I know I said I wasn’t going to go to town yesterday, but…I had to. I ordered a lamp for the turn signal on my truck and it came in. The nice parts dude woke me up at 8:30 to tell me so what choice did I have? I ran in, picked up the part, and headed to Kohl’s to pick up a few things for summer. I was really excited to get several shirts, a sweater, and a dress for under $100! I stopped at Walmart to get some windshield washer fluid and saw a couple more things I couldn’t live without so my summer wardrobe is complete.

I picked up lunch on the way home and called Mr. FixIt to be ready to head to the farm as soon as I got there. We needed to finish up the pump and get the water back on. We made great progress…finally getting the parts reconnected and the pump primed. Then…we found a pinhole leak in one of the old parts we were trying to reuse. We turned everything off, released the pressure, took the old parts off and headed to the closest hardware store…only to discover they were closed by the time we got there.

We stopped for an ice cream cone. Ice cream makes you think better, you know! lol We regrouped and decided to drive all the way into Parkersburg and get the parts at Lowe’s then head back to the farm. We worked from 2-9pm but we finally got that thing back together and running! You never saw such celebrating when we plugged that pump in and it came to life! There is still a very, very slow drip at one connection. We are going to let it sit overnight. Sometimes sediment in the line can plug theses up. If not, we’ll get some of that epoxy putty you can use to stop leaks and see if that works before taking the whole thing apart again.

The pump hasn’t been running for several months and there was a great deal of sediment in the water. I was a bit shocked when black water came out of the faucet, but then I remembered that time I left the tub running and ran the well dry. That scared the heck out of me because I thought I’d ruined it, but it came back once the water seeped back into the well.

Today is mowing day. This is the time of year when we need to mow about every five or six days. It’s supposed to storm tonight so we need to get it done. Mr. FixIt spaded the flower bed yesterday morning where we plant the Elephant Ears every year. We’ve decided not to plant tomatoes at home this year. Our soil here just doesn’t produce a good yield for all the work it takes. A friend of Mr. FixIt’s lives in Parkersburg and still owns his dad’s house. Their yard produces the BEST tomatoes ever. Since Joe doesn’t live there full time, we’re going to plant our tomatoes over there this year in the hopes of having a better crop.

Lots to do this week to get ready for the trip west. I’ll trying to get out of here on Thursday…Friday at the latest. I called yesterday to check on the progress of the camper repair. As you might imagine…they still haven’t received the parts. I told them if it isn’t ready, I’ll just pick it up on the way through and use a cooler this trip. I can drop the camper off on my way home from Colorado.

I told Mr. FixIt on the way home from the farm last night…I’m not doing a thing on Sunday. It’s our day of worship and rest!

“Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.””
John 4:13-14 ESV

Peek-a-Boo Spring!

Thu, 14 Apr 2022 01:30:00 -0600

The dance of spring can be wild. Multiple seasons appear in rapid succession within just a few hours. Afternoons can bring violent storms and high winds…thunder and lightning…tornadoes…hail…heavy rain….and beautiful sunshine. We’re trying to wrap up things here at home before we make our annual trek to the beach. I wasn’t sure if we would have a window dry enough to mow at the farm with all this rain we’ve been getting, but yesterday we found our opportunity.

We haven’t messed with the older tractor in the barn this spring, and since time is a precious commodity this week, we just packed up our riding mower on the trailer and off we went. It was pretty windy and we both found ourselves praying that God would keep the trees standing on the hillsides on either side of the area we mow. We thanked him profusely when we were finished and not even a branch had fallen.

The lawn out at the farm is so small we can finish in not much more than half an hour. And, just as we were wrapping it up, it started to sprinkle. Perfect timing! We loaded up the trailer and headed on home. Mr. FixIt spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning out the truck and starting to pack for the trip. I went in and worked on the taxes. I was waiting for a 1099 that I found out yesterday, I don’t need. So, taxes are delayed again.

I really don’t like waiting till the last minute to do this stuff. It just seemed to sneak up on me this year for some reason. Everything went really smooth except for one little hiccup. I needed to download something and couldn’t for the life of me get it to work. Enter…Debby from TurboTax Customer Care. She walked me through the process and it worked fine…till I tried to submit the tax returns via e-File. I imagine about half the country was trying to do the same thing at the same time and I got a popup that said there was transmission difficulties, to close the program and come back in an hour to check the status. I am sure, at some point it will go through.

So, everything is mowed, the laundry is just about finished, the taxes are all but complete, and all we need to do is throw a few things in a suitcase and we’re outta here! Even though we have a house sitter, Miss Pumpkin is going to the Kitty Hilton to visit with her little kitty friends. It always works out to coincide with her yearly checkup so she’ll get all that done while she is relaxing at the “spa”.

Now…breathe!

“Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm.”
Proverbs 13:20 ESV

Certainty is a Prison

Wed, 13 Apr 2022 01:30:00 -0600

Knowledge is fluid. Science and medicine and technology is not absolute. While there are some absolute truths, there will always be variables to just about any situation. This was one of the most frustrating aspects of the pandemic. People thought they were being lied to or that the experts didn’t know what they were talking about. That’s because, while there are other coronaviruses out there, Covid 19 was what they call…novel. That means, it’s never been seen before.

It acted differently than anything the doctors were prepared for. When they treated it the way they’d treated other coronaviruses, it responded just the opposite. Some tried and true remedies actually made things worse. It was like driving a car. You’ve driven every day since you got your license, but for some reason, steering right took you in the opposite direction. The doctors needed to learn how to drive a totally different vehicle.

A good scientist knows new information is always forthcoming. They understand medicine is not an exact science. Knowledge grows and we must grow and change with it. The problem comes when certainty is introduced. Certainty is usually maintained by those who do not know what they do not know. It’s called the Dunning-Kruger effect.

Wikipedia defines the Dunning-Kruger effect as the “cognitive bias whereby people with low ability at a task overestimate their ability.” It’s what has often been stated as “a little knowledge can be dangerous.” This is not meant to imply a lack of intelligence…just a lack of knowledge and some level of self-awareness.

There’s a lot of black and white thinking in the world today. Experts are more cautious because they grasp this concept. I was reading some comments yesterday on Twitter. People were getting impatient with the J6 Committee and what they perceive as dragging their heels, when in all actuality, the nature of a true investigation is not rapid and it’s not black and white. It takes time. If things are done in a slipshod fashion, results are less trustworthy.

We put ourselves in a self-imposed prison when we become absolutely certain. I belong to an online faith-based discussion group for people who have become disillusioned with organized religions. I enjoy the repartee and find different interpretations force me to dive deeper and read more to satisfy my own thirst for knowledge. The other day, someone posted “Certainty is a prison you don’t know you’re in, till you’re out of it.”

There is a lot of truth in that. In my second marriage, I was absolutely certain I would be married to my husband till death us do part…because that’s the vow we made. I didn’t take into consideration that we wouldn’t or that we would change or that hanging onto that “certainty” would nearly kill me. It’s best demonstrated by comparing it to a severe illness that comes on gradually. You do not realize how dreadfully sick you were till you felt better.

More and more people are falling into a black and white mentality these days. And it’s so easy to get angry and call each other stupid for believing differently. That approach is seldom fruitful. There are truths and there are untruths. The problem lies in the telling and who you trust telling it. That is a direct consequence of the Dunning-Kruger effect. I’ll give you an example. Recently, there was a claim that students in Michigan who “identify as cats” were getting litter boxes installed in the bathrooms of grade schools to accommodate them. Seriously. A senator…a seated senator actually brought this up in outrage. And what followed was three weeks of discussion and righteous indignation on the internet, social media, and school boards. It turns out, of course, that this was totally bogus without an ounce of truth to it. But some people read it and, based on who was doing the telling, assumed it must be true without using an ounce of critical thinking skills or investigation.

I grew up in the generation that was taught to question authority. This develops critical thinking skills. We all have our own beliefs and values, but KNOWING that we don’t know everything is vitally important in the ability to expand our knowledge and not become mired in the prison of certainty.

“An intelligent heart acquires knowledge, and the ear of the wise seeks knowledge.”
Proverbs 18:15 ESV

An Eventful Day!

Thu, 17 Mar 2022 01:30:00 -0600

Our helpers couldn’t come yesterday so there was a change in plans. We got “Birdie” set up and cleaned out the ladybugs and stink bugs. Mr. FixIt gave her a bath. And I headed to the farm for a couple of days. It had been a while since I got to visit and I was in need of a farm fix.

The weather was stellar yesterday! I sat on the front porch and knitted in the sunshine. It was 71° and delightful. Along about 4:00, a lead car for a wide load pulled up out front. You never know what you might see out these old country roads, so I opened the camera on my phone and prepared to take a video of whatever lumbered by.

[youtu.be/aPRKMB-S1...](https://youtu.be/aPRKMB-S1oE)

Soon, here came half a house on its way to become someone’s home in the country. Over the years, the phone line that crosses the road has begun to sag lower and lower. The trailer slowed way down then inched forward. Suddenly, the top of the house snagged the phone line and he hit the gas!

I started yelling and telling him to stop and back up. The truck behind him was honking. The guy in front of him was waving his arms. He stopped, but not before he stretched the heck out that wire. The guy in the lead car got an extension ladder out and two guys extended it and lifted the line so the house could glide under it.

Once all the commotion died down, I went back to the porch and picked up my knitting. I was looking at that line and thought it looked lower. I pulled up an earlier photo and compared them and indeed…it was MUCH lower. I tried to call the phone company but they were closed.

I had been having a little trouble with the water pump earlier so I was on the phone with my cousin who lives down the road. All of a sudden, a fully loaded logging truck came barreling down the road, caught that line, and ripped through it like butter! So, that was that. The water wasn’t running, and now the phone was out. And without the phone, I had no internet. And without the internet, I had no cell service. And without the cell service, Mr. FixIt couldn’t reach me and wouldn’t know what happened.

I packed up my stuff and came back home. Not at all the relaxing day I was hoping for, but like Beans said…it was a good thing I was there or we would never have known what happened. I was in the right place at the right time again, it seems.

“When a man’s ways please the Lord, he makes even his enemies to be at peace with him.”
Proverbs 16:7 ESV

#RightPlaceRightTime, #Accident, #TheFarm

Another Long Day

Sun, 06 Feb 2022 02:30:00 -0600

I slept soundly the night after surgery. Still loaded with anesthesia and pain medications, I drifted off at a decent time. It helped that Mr. FixIt was also tired after being my helpmate so it was lights out early for us. I mentioned casually that if I felt better when I awoke yesterday morning, we could possibly go home. I should have known when my sweetheart came in to wake me up, he had plans. Oh, my gosh…I was so sore. I gradually dragged myself out of bed and into the kitchen for a cup of tea.

There sat my Mr. FixIt, waiting expectantly on the corner of the couch, his suitcase packed and sitting on the floor beside him. His hopeful smile told me everything I needed to know. We were going home. I don’t blame him. Hotel furniture is not made to be comfortable, although the bed was divine! Our backs were complaining from sitting on that sofa so much and we both longed for our comfy recliners at home.

I had my breakfast, loaded up on Tylenol and ibuprofen, and packed my bags. Mr. FixIt got us all loaded up and off we went. The roads weren’t bad, but there were places that could be icy, and he knew he was carrying tender cargo, so we took our time getting home. The trees were still encased in ice and the sun made them sparkle like a million diamonds. It was stunning. We stopped and picked Pumpkin up from the kennel and went to Walmart for a prescription and chicken noodle soup. And as soon as we got home, I went to bed and slept for a couple of hours.

My voice is a little deep from the breathing tube. I’m tired and sore. And I headed to bed extraordinarily early. I did manage to knit a few rows on my sweater, both on the drive home, and in the recliner after my nap. But that’s about it. Just taking it slow and easy, resting and recovering. That’s what knitting and naps are for, right?

❄️❤️❄️

“Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones.”
Proverbs 3:7-8 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

Devotions and Distractions

Fri, 04 Feb 2022 02:30:00 -0600

When I want clarity and direction, I turn to my Bible and read any number of devotions on whatever topic is troubling me at the time. When I want distraction, I turn to my knitting and YouTube for any number of topics that pique my interest. Yesterday was a mixture of both. I read the Bible and my selected devotionals every day but yesterday I spent a good deal of time on the topic of finding strength in the Word and reminding my monkey brain that anxieties are nothing more than thoughts and they cannot hurt me.

My reward yesterday was working on the first sleeve of the sweater I’m knitting. I got about seven or eight inches done before I put it away to write. My other reward was YouTube videos. Whenever I want to feel soothed and comforted, I look for videos about Appalachian life. I found a full length documentary on mountain talk…the interesting words and sayings and superstitions of my ancestors. (You can see the VIDEO HERE.)

There’s something about listening to the older generations talk about their upbringing that takes me back to a simpler time when I didn’t have to worry about much of anything. Watching these videos takes me into my grandma’s kitchen and to the old country store with the wooden floors and the glass case with penny candy on display. If I was good, I got a little paper sack of Maple Nut Goodies or Peanut Butter Logs or Chocolate Covered Peanuts. (My people called a bag a “poke”.) These videos are sheer escape and soothe my mind which was just what the doctor ordered.

I’m so glad we drove up here Wednesday and not yesterday. Even though the weather down towards West Virginia and Southeastern Ohio was rainy, the afternoon began to bring freezing rain, sleet, and slick roads. The farther the day wore on, the slower the cars were going on the four lane out our window. Around 3:00 or so, I suggested we get out of the room and walk around the hotel. We checked out the gym and pool and stuck our heads out the front door to see if it was really as slick as they said it was on TV. It was, but listen…I didn’t spend all those years in Colorado for nothing. I’m a good driver in the snow. If you didn’t drive in the snow in Colorado, you didn’t go anywhere for over half the year.

We ate light yesterday. I made baked potatoes for supper. I also suggested Mr. FixIt might want to go out and make sure we could open the doors and warm up the truck to get the ice off the windows. We have to be at the hospital at 5:00 this morning, so he said he would go out at 4:00 to warm the truck up again. Have I told you what a gem he is? This will be short today as we needed to get to sleep early.

I’m calm and peaceful and going into this surgery with great hope that I’ll come out the other side feeling better than I have in years…once I heal, of course. If I’m feeling up to it, I’ll at least check in tomorrow to let you know how everything went. I want to thank you all so much for your prayers and concern and uplifting support as I’ve walked this particular path. I appreciate you all more than you will ever know.

Now…let’s get this done!

❄️❤️❄️

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

Mark 11:24 ESV

An Incredible Day

Fri, 31 Dec 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I had one of the most amazing experiences yesterday…and in the days leading up to it. We’ve talked here a lot about anxiety and PTSD. I cannot remember a time since Mr. Virgo died that I didn’t experience incredible, sometimes debilitating anxiety before any medical event. When I was here in the big city to get my 4D CT Scan on October 14th, I spent the night before in the hotel room throwing up from anxiety. This time was completely different.

I started studying some really good devotionals on anxiety and how to get the upper hand and not let it be the boss. I studied sub-personalities and how they affect worry and stress and the combination of the two…anxiety. I’m a firm believer that knowledge is power in that it can alleviate some of the “unknown” in a situation. But, what really made the difference was pulling out the Big Guns.

I prayed. You prayed. Everyone I knew to ask prayed. For success. For peace. For calm up to and through the procedure. I spent two days in my camper, pleading with God to show me how to let go of fear and anxiety and the answer He gave me was so simple. “Give it to me.” So, here’s what I did.

The night before the procedure, I wore my Bluetooth noise cancelling headphones that I wear when I mow. I connected them to my iPad and listened to the soundtrack I always use when I write…a crackling campfire in a thunderstorm. I closed my eyes and let the sound transport me to a beautiful campground in the woods, on top of a mountain. You know how I ask Jesus to go for a walk with me? Well, this time I asked him to go camping with me.

We sat around the campfire…sometimes chatting, sometimes still. Every time I had a thought that might send me down the rabbit hole, I tossed it over to Jesus. He caught it deftly with one hand and tossed it in the fire where we would watch the sudden burst of sparks fly up into the night sky. Then…we’d laugh and laugh at how silly those thoughts were. How insignificant, really…in the grand scheme of things. Because, if you think about it…they are thoughts. Thoughts cannot kill you on their own. This was an incredibly powerful visualization and I felt ZERO anxiety leading up to, and even laying on the table having the procedure.

I was awake…sort of. I knew everything that was going on. I had to be awake enough to follow directions like “Hold your breath” and “Turn your head.” I could feel the catheter in the veins in my chest and neck. Sometimes it tickled. Sometimes it sounded like little bubbles. It was fascinating. They made a small incision in my upper thigh and threaded the catheter through there. Then they threaded it to different veins in my upper chest and neck.

Picture a large creek. Upstream, there are a lot of tributaries. What we want to do is walk up each tributary, throw a line in the water, and see if we can catch a fish. But not just any fish. We want the big kahoona. What the catheter did was stick its nose in the mouth of each “creek” to try to sniff out where the big fish is camping. What the doctor wants to see is a BIG number in one of the tributaries. That indicates there’s a bad gland up that stream. They take an outline of the heart and the twelve veins they took the samples from and write the numbers on the corresponding vein on the drawing. Then, the surgeon can see which vein is dumping buckets of parathyroid hormone. He can follow that vein and, ostensibly, hit the mother lode and get that bad boy out of there!

I cannot make heads nor tails of the numbers, however…I know we are looking for one BIG one. And there was…ONE big one! So, now I’m praying that means they can find the offending gland, take it out, and cure me of this disease that has been robbing so much of my joy the last four years.

The doctor came in after the procedure and remarked how incredibly calm I was. When I saw him in consult…I was a nervous Nelly. I asked him if he wanted to know my secret. He did. So I told him about camping with Jesus. He listened intently. We finished up and as he left the room, he told me what a pleasure it was to work with me and Mr. FixIt. Then, he looked back around and thanked me for telling him about the visualization I used. He said he was going to try it himself. I love that!

You never know whose life you are going to touch and under what circumstance. Just know that I am so incredibly grateful to have yet another opportunity to tell you how Jesus works in my life. He amazes me…every time!

And, here it is…the last day of 2021. Much like the second year after the loss of a loved one, 2021 was harder than 2020. We kinda went into the pandemic thinking we’d knock this out of the park in two or three months…maybe a little more. We couldn’t have believed at the time that it would just get worse…and worse. But there were gems in the flames, as there always are. Science brought us a vaccine and medicines to help. There have been many, many good things that occurred mixed in with the bad. We just have to look for and focus on them. And do our best to ease the burden of the medical community. The gal who checked me in yesterday said she had already had four front desk employees call in sick.

“Omicron is no joke” she said.

Here’s to a Happy, HEALTHY New Year for us all! Might I just caution you to open the door slowly and peak in? Don’t threaten 2022 with a haughty attitude of “Bring it on!” Let’s just tip toe in quietly and try not to wake it up or tick it off too bad…ok? Thanks!

See ya next year!!!

❄️

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

Beyond the Absurd - Birds Aren’t Real

Mon, 13 Dec 2021 02:50:00 -0600

For those of us who are “of a certain age”, we recall hearing about something absurd called “The War of the Worlds”. On October 30, 1938, Orson Welles’ Mercury Theater Company broadcast a live radio show…an update of H.G. Welles’ book of the same name. They announced it for what it was at the beginning of the programming hour. But most people were finishing listening to Edgar Bergen and his ventriloquist act with the dummy, “Charlie McCarthy”. When they switched stations at about 8:12PM, “The War of the Worlds” was heating up and it sounded real to those tuning in. By this time, sound thinking, logical minded people believed we were under attack by Martians. While there was no lasting damage, and no laws were found to be broken, the networks made an agreement with the FCC to be more careful in the future with such programming.

The Philadelphia Experiment of 1943 saw the US Government allegedly trying to make a US battleship go invisible. The conspiracy had the government making a destroyer “teleport” from Philadelphia to Norfolk, VA. It has been officially declared a hoax, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t people who still believe it happened.

Flash forward to the incident at Roswell in the summer of 1947, not quite a decade later. A farmer found a piece of unidentifiable debris in his field and a whole industry was created surrounding the alleged coverup that followed. To this day, there are people trying to figure out exactly what happened at Area 51 and “where the alien bodies and spacecraft are actually being held.” Are there other intelligent civilizations out there? Could be. But Roswell will never be the same little dusty hole in the wall.

From Atlantis to The Shroud of Turin to who killed JFK, the world has been intrigued, and often times convinced to believe in outrageous conspiracy theories. The age of the Internet is…unfortunately…an excellent breeding ground for these hoaxes. Computer-aided graphics mixed with gullibility breathes life into things that are nothing more than science fiction on crack. Add the fact that we really don’t have to practice critical thinking anymore. Google is right there at everyone’s fingertips. We don’t have to remember or memorize or think. We can just ask. And, there are nefarious players ready to fill your eyes and ears with garbage.

There was a time in the early days of the internet when something like the QAnonCult would have been shredded and revealed as the real fake news that it is. There is something called Occam’s razor. The Encyclopedia Britannica defines it as “a principle of theory construction or evaluation according to which, other things equal, explanations that posit fewer entities, or fewer kinds of entities, are to be preferred to explanations that posit more.” To put it more simply, when Dr. Arroway (played by Jodie Foster in the movie Contact) was asked, “Do you know what Occum’s razor is?” She replies, “Yes, it’s the scientific principle that, all things being equal, the simplest answer is usually the right one.” Brilliant. Deductive Reasoning 101.

So, when Q says that the world is being controlled by an elite cabal of child-trafficking Democrats, I think we can safely say “that’s a load of horse hockey” to quote Col. Potter on MASH. These predictions and convoluted fairytales have hoodwinked an entire segment of the population. Whether you believe it or not is not the point here…although, I do hope you don’t ascribe to such things. What I’m here to tell you about is Gen-Z’s tongue-in-cheek parody of today’s conspiracy theorists. And they’ve called it…

Birds Aren’t Real.

They posit that birds do not exist and that they are all government drone replicas made to spy on Americans. According to a recent article in the New York Times by Taylor Lorentz, hundreds of thousands of young people are joining the fight against what is the REAL fake news by creating their own absurd conspiracy. They KNOW birds are real. They just want people to see how absolutely ridiculous these conspiracy theories have gotten and to put on your thinking caps and use some sense. I think it’s a creative way to fight fire with fire and bring the world back into a place where real truth means something again. To fight against the anger and hate that are tools used by the fearful. And where oligarchs who prey on our fears and manipulate us to destroy ourselves from within are exposed for the charlatans they are. We are better than this. We need more Coke commercials teaching the world to sing. We need more children to be taught critical thinking in school.

I was watching The Voice last week and one of the acts in the top five is a sibling group called Girl Named Tom. As I sat and listened to their tight harmonies, I thought to myself…this! This is from God. This is beauty and this is real. We need more and more and more of this beautiful harmonious music. We need more God…more spirit filled goodness…more nature. We need to take care of our earth home because this is the only one we have. Instead of gazillionaires flying rocket ships of wealthy tourists on a ten minute joyride up in space (and avoiding taxes along the way)…instead of trying to figure out how to live on Mars…maybe they could throw some of that money at the world we already have and try to fix it.

Wouldn’t that be a wonderful Christmas gift to us all?

Peace on Earth…Good Will to ALL people!

❄️

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”
John 14:27 ESV

Feeling the Wave and Letting it Go

Sun, 28 Nov 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Blue Jay out the bedroom window

I tried to call my brother on Thanksgiving and couldn’t reach him. He’s in a new place and the number they gave me that’s supposed to ring into his apartment rings into more than one so whoever gets to it first answers. If it’s a client, they politely tell me his lives next door and hang up. Which is fine, but he hasn’t answered his cell phone either. I sent a note to his staff person and she called me on Friday afternoon to say my brother had lost his cell phone. And, she had just found out the phone doesn’t ring into his apartment only so she’s going to rectify both things next week. She let me video chat with him and that did us both a world of good. But, until I could see and talk to him…I was in a funk.

The waves of grief come so seldom now that when they do, it flat out surprises me. I suddenly felt all the losses so acutely. I am sure reading the memory book of the farm and holding it in my hands started the ball rolling. Then, I got to see my girls on video chat, but…you know…it’s not quite the same. I missed my mom. I thought about Mr. Virgo. I longed for my grandma’s pumpkin pie. I wanted to see my cousins. I just flat out had a pity party.

I let myself feel all the feelings. I let them wash over me with the salty sting of sea water. I’ve finally learned it only makes matters worse to fight it. I’ve also learned…they’re just feelings. They aren’t going to kill me. I can hold joy and pain in the same space. I can feel sorrow and happiness. Presence and loneliness. Energy and fatigue. And life will go on. The sun will set and come up the next morning.

There is so much going on in the world that so easily brings you down. If we focus on the sensational…the news that sells…we’ll soon be totally overwhelmed. Add a grief wave and it can knock your socks off. We were going to put up the tree yesterday and didn’t because the Ohio-Michigan game was on and it was a thriller. So the tree waits for another day. Last night I bent over and felt something pop in my lower back with an accompanying sharp pain that took my breath away. It’s just another thing to remind me I’m not a spring chicken anymore.

Am I going to go down the dark path? Nope. I’m going to “rub some dirt in it” as my grandma always said. Just get up and move on to the next thing…albeit a little more gingerly today. Life is what we make of it.

Make it good whenever you can.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.”
Isaiah 9:2 ESV

Emerging from the Silence

Mon, 15 Nov 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I have a dear sister/friend who sends me songs through Messenger every once in a while. She and I actually met in choir and music has been much more a part of who she is than it has been for me. For years, I couldn’t drive without blasting the musing and singing at the top of my lungs. Mr. Virgo and I had CDs we had burned with “road trip music” in the days before MP3 players. To this day, when I hear “Hotel California” and “Go Your Own Way” it takes me back to a highway in Arizona that looked all the world like an old western movie.

Then…Mr. Virgo died and my world went dark and colorless and silent. Eventually the color came back and the light shines, but I’ve never really enjoyed music like I used to. Oh, I still love to go to live music, but I’m talking about turning on music while I’m working around the house or driving on road trips. I have learned to love the silence and the hours of meditation driving without noise provides me.

My friend sent me a recording of Matteo Bocelli singing SOLO. He is Andre Bocelli’s son. It was ok but didn’t know my socks off. All week, Mr. FixIt and I had been looking forward to Adele’s special…”One Night Only” on TV. It aired last night after 60 Minutes. Oh, my gosh! She was amazing!!! I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her. She hasn’t performed in six years and she had stories to tell.

When we go through the battles of life, we all have stories to tell about it. Adele’s stories hit such a spot in my soul last night. From her largely absent alcoholic father to the deep pain and soul searching that came from her divorce, I could relate to it all. It was so fun to see the faces of the celebrities in the audience as they were reduced to normal citizen status…dancing and singing and looking on with frank awe on their faces.

I don’t know if it will inspire me to listen to more music or not. It might. I doubt I’ll drive with music on. I’m older and need to concentrate. But listening to Adele and the stories her music tells was so refreshing last night and I deeply enjoyed it. I hope you got a chance to see it as well.

“addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart,”
Ephesians 5:19 ESV

Finding a Needle in a Haystack

Fri, 05 Nov 2021 01:30:00 -0600

I made great strides in organizing the camping gear yesterday. Now, you might ask… “For crying out loud…how much camping gear does this gal have???” Yeah, well…enough to make me crazy. It’s not just sorting the gear, though. There were boxes in the belly of the big camper that had just been hauled around from one side of the country to another without ever being opened. There were boxes of toiletries that had long ago either dried up completely or leaked out all over other things that were still perfectly usable. There were folders of pamphlets for the inner workings of the campers I’ve owned over the years. There were bags of receipt I kept for my business. There were countless business cards for people I don’t remember. Discount cards, rewards cards, gift cards with a dollar or two left on them. A couple of boxes of change. I’ve always said “I’ll get to that.” So, it’s time to pay the piper and go through all that. I have to maintain my mantra…be ruthless. Not a problem…till I found a rabbit hole I had to go down.

Capt. Chambless Chesnutt 30 Sep 1965

Some time ago, I found a Vietnam MIA/POW bracelet in a box of stuff I bought at an auction. I can’t remember now where or when. But when I went through the box, I came across the bracelet and immediately recognized it. The bracelets were created initially by a California student group called Voices in Vital America in May 1970…the year I was becoming a senior in high school. The bracelets cost $2.50 to $3.00 and were worn so that Prisoners of War would not be forgotten.

The last time I stumbled across this bracelet was when I was downsizing the Colorado house after Mr. Virgo died. He was a soldier in Vietnam. I thought of all those soldiers who were POW’s and MIA and thought I’d look his name up on the internet. The only thing I found was his date of death and that he was from Little Rock, Arkansas. And, that he was listed as a Major. He must have been awarded that rank posthumously. I had a lot on my plate back then, so I carefully placed the bracelet in a box of stuff that was going with me in the camper. And never thought of it again until yesterday when I found it.

The internet has come a long way…even in just shy of nine years. While I didn’t find much on the web, I decided to give ancestry.com a try and found several pieces of information. He was in a play in high school. He was a runner in a track club. He was a handsome young man. The city directory listed him as being a salesman for Royal Typewriter. He was thirty-one years old when he died. He is buried in Little Rock National Cemetery. He was born 13 Aug 1934 Chambless Marshall Chesnutt. There were other Chesnutts listed in the City Directory of Little Rock in the early ‘50s.

In the 1958 Little Rock City Directory, it looks like he is married to “Pat D.” and lives at 2202 Marshall.

I’d love to find his family and return this bracelet to them. I know the power of social media and this is one of its GOOD aspects. I also know I have readers all over the country…even some in other countries. I wonder if you can spread this around and help me find this late soldier’s family? A week from today is Veteran’s Day. Wouldn’t it be awesome to find his family before then…or at least by the holidays???

Thank you in advance for helping me out with “Project Chesnutt”! It’s Feel Good Friday…Let’s see what we can do!

“for the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say.””
Luke 12:12 ESV

#Veteran, #Vietnam, #KilledInAction

Heart Melt and Car Repair

Fri, 29 Oct 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Awwwww, you guys! You went and made me cry! Did you read the comments the last couple of days? God is so good! He knew I needed a boost and there y’all were! I love writing these “letters from home” to you all. That’s what they feel like…newsy little missives from my heart to yours…letting you know what’s going on in this country girl’s life I get to live. Knowing I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing…vanquishing the darkness back where it belongs, is a privilege I don’t take lightly. Sharing that with such supportive readers is more than any writer could ask for. Thank you…every single one of you!

So, yesterday morning I did what we all need to do every year…I went and got the tatas squished. I always schedule my mammogram in October…Breast Cancer Awareness Month. That way I can’t forget because it’s in the news a lot. I also had my appointment with my gynecologist in the afternoon. Just because we are older now, doesn’t mean we don’t need to still get checked from time to time. I had a total hysterectomy in 1994, I think it was. And still, I had some dysplasia (abnormal cells) a couple of years ago. And, I had a surgical biopsy on a breast lump around the same time. Cancer can still strike so it’s best to get checked. Your health care provider can advise you how often. I was pleased that nothing was wrong…up or down. Yay!

When I came out to the truck, i saw I’d missed a call from my good friend, Diane. I called back and we chatted for a while. When I started up the truck…the engine light came on! Wouldn’t you know it? Mr. FixIt is knee deep in redoing ALL the brakes on his truck and is currently waiting on parts so we don’t have an extra vehicle. Now, I’ve learned a lot from this man about vehicle maintenance and the importance of shopping around. I knew the first thing I needed to do was have someone hook up a reader to the computer in the truck and find out what code what triggered that made the check engine light come on.

I happened to be pretty close to a Ford dealer…not the one I normally frequent…but I figured they could hook up the scanner and check real quick. Well…he said he would have to schedule me back another time because they were booked and it would cost a $158 diagnostic fee. Once I picked myself back up off the floor, I looked at him in disbelief.

“I’m sorry…to plug a cord into an outlet and push a button???”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He was being polite.

“Ummmm…I don’t think so.”

I went to the auto parts store next door. He checked and gave me the code. I checked with engine-codes.com (clever name) and it directed me to the nearest place that could fix it. It turns out, this particular code can be triggered by a few different things so he suggested we reset it and if it comes back on, then we could fix it. Wouldn’t you know, I continued my shopping and soon, check engine light was back on.

I went to an auto parts store and was told the part was $285! Hokey smokes! I was polite.

“Ummmm…I don’t think so.”

I went to Advantage Auto and they had the original part in stock…$73! Bingo.

Then…the light went off! What??? *sigh* Ok…the oxygen sensor is bad and it won’t be long till it turns on and stays on. With Mr. FixIt’s truck out of commission for I don’t know how long, I’l going to go ahead and get the part fixed.

What is the moral of the story?

You really DON’T have to go to the dealership to get something fixed.

Shop around for your best price.

Always check through a search engine and YouTube videos to see how things are made and what to do when they’re broken. Educate yourself so when you talk to the nice man at the repair place, he can know you know what you’re talking about. There ARE still places that take advantage of women who are on their own and charge them exorbitant fees and do unnecessary work.

We just had an interaction last week at the RV service center when I had a couple of things that needed tweaked. The service man started in by talking over me and “man-splaining” stuff. My blood pressure started to rise. Mr. FixIt told me later he almost told the guy he’d better check himself because he had no idea who he was dealing with. But he could see I handled it fine on my own. He’s good that way…ready to be my wing man if I need him. Totally prepared to sit in the co-pilot’s seat if I don’t. We’re a good team.

So, that was my day…just squishin’ the tatas and gettin’ things done. There’s never a dull moment!

???

“Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.”
Proverbs 16:24 ESV

Insights and Accolades

Sun, 10 Oct 2021 01:30:00 -0600

I love how the stop action in this shot froze the raindrops in the sunshine. It looks like glitter!

I told you yesterday about going up to Pennsylvania to sit with my besty Gail. You were so kind to say what a good friend I am…and I appreciate that. I love Gail to the moon and back. I love all my besties to the moon and back. But I can’t always pull off what I did Friday.

A dear friend asked me a couple years ago to take her to her appointment and sit with her while she got a transfusion. Another friend asked me if I could drive her to Columbus to an eye specialist. I couldn’t do either one and it had absolutely nothing to do with how much I love them. It had everything to do with my anxiety disorder and the feeling of being out of control. The very thought of going filled me with waves of anxiety, fear, and nausea.

Having PTSD on top of an anxiety disorder certainly doesn’t help matters. So all of this has been made worse by losing Mr. Virgo. Yep…it’s been over eight years since I sat and watched him die. Nope, I’m not “over it”. You don’t ever get over it…you manage to get through it. You manage to get distance and figure out how to keep from falling off the edge. But, over it? Not so much.

Does this mean I don’t love the friends I couldn’t help as much as those I did? Heck no. The difference was, I woke up Friday morning and I made the decision to go. No one expected anything of me. No one demanded anything of me. No one asked anything of me. I was in control of the decision so it was easier for me to go.

I hate letting people down…so I avoid situations in which there is the chance of disappointing someone. There is some research being done in England on Pathological Demand Avoidance. It is a rare little spot on the autism spectrum and it’s getting some attention. When I first read about it, it not only made so much sense to me surrounding my own behaviors, but it also described Daughter #2 as well.

When someone asks something of someone with PDA, they will jump through hoops to avoid it because of the severe anxiety it produces. They make excuses, they roll play when they can’t get out of it, they avoid situations where they feel out of control. I know I’ve hurt my friends’ feelings in the past and I hate that. I think the ones who really love me have understood when I explain, but I hate that I have to. The key is to be honest and explain yourself to them. And pray they understand.

I’m better in general than I used to be. I attribute a lot of that to healing and prayer and remembering I can to all things through Christ who strengthens me. Still, there are times when I have to say no. It makes me look like an untrustworthy friend. And I hate that the most. I think the thing I want you to take away from this is…

If you ask something of someone and they cannot do it…please don’t automatically assume they are selfish or they don’t feel for you the same as you feel for them. Please don’t think they have something better to do or they don’t want to help you. We cannot know what is going on in another person’s mind…the way they see life…the way they deal with trauma and surprises and emergencies. I think my really good friends understand me…and they love me in spite of myself.

I just try to do my best and be the best person I can be. The rest I leave up to God to help me through.

“Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another.”
Ephesians 4:25 ESV

Paying My Respects

Sat, 09 Oct 2021 01:30:00 -0600

I am so blessed to have so many wonderful, loving friends who would do anything for me. My besty Gail needed me yesterday. Remember in Sunday’s Prayer Circle I asked specifically for prayers for her stepson who was in critical condition in ICU? Well, sadly…he lost his struggle this week, surrounded by loving family. He was only 32. So, when I woke up yesterday morning, I asked Mr. FixIt if he wanted to ride up to Beaver Falls, PA with me because I needed to go be with my girl.

My sweetheart has been struggling this week with painful hips from bowling, so he elected not to go with me on this jaunt. Instead, he stayed home and did the laundry and rested. I literally drove four hours up, sat with Gail for an hour at the funeral home, and drove four hours home. I passed the time on the drive talking with friends and family. I mastered hands free voice texts with Little. And I did a lot of thinking. Driving is my best think time…I can solve ALL the problems in a good day’s drive.

The colors were lovely. Not peak, but still quite nice. I drove up via the interstate with a cut across Cadiz Road. Now, that area of the country is beautiful. Lots of barns and farms and hills with winding roads. I passed through bucolic little towns with their manicured lawns and gardens and white picket fences. Farm stands overflowing with apples and pumpkins and Indian corn stood watch, their honor system buckets weighted down with a good sized rock to keep the money from blowing away. I love Eastern Ohio. It has the rolling hills and green grass of West Virginia with straighter roads and bigger skies, like parts of Colorado.

All this driving made for a crazy week. When I pack so much stuff into a short amount of time, I have a hard time remembering what all I did. I’m whupped, but I am so glad I went to support Gail. When I arrived at the funeral home, I signed the guest register and looked up to see Gail trying to figure out who the woman in the black dress was. When I saw her eyes register that it was me, she crumpled and hurried over to me, throwing her arms around my neck and sobbing. I held her tight and let her cry. This is the woman who holds it all together and does for everybody else, asking for very little for herself. She needed me, and I was so glad I could be there for her.

There was a time, not so long ago, when going there would have been unthinkable. My own trauma and grief surrounding the loss of Mr. Virgo caused me to go into panic mode if I got anywhere near a funeral home. Not long after I moved to WV, a high school friend lost her son in a tragic accident. I went to the funeral home and stood with one of my other besties…Diane. She took one look at my face as I stood there like a deer in the headlights, my fight or flight response getting ready to kick into overdrive at any second. She grabbed my arm and fairly pulled me out of there. As soon as the fresh air hit my face, I realized I was barely breathing.

Grief is tricky and so hard to navigate. Time has eased so many of the wounds and that allows me to be more emotionally accessible for others. When I mentor others walking through the same path, I make sure they understand they are not alone, they are not crazy, and the things they go through…no matter how painful…will eventually become easier to bear. Life will never ever be the same as it was before losing Mr. Virgo…but I sure am glad I can give more of myself now to those who are hurting.

My prayers are always with the bereaved. May they find some comfort …“in the arms of an angel”.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 ESV

The Phone Groan

Fri, 08 Oct 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Mr. FixIt was out doing something with the truck last weekend and dropped his phone. We all drop our phones. Almost always it’s pretty inconsequential…unless you don’t have a good case. However, there comes a time when that one drop knocks you out of the game. That’s what happened to Mr. FixIt’s phone this time. For some odd reason, it was turning Siri on and off…over and over and over. Sometimes you could get it to stop if you poked it enough. It got a little frustrating, to say the least.

I told Mr. FixIt I could do a factory reset and see if that works, but we found out it erases everything and you lose your contacts, photos, messages, apps…the works. If you back it up to the cloud first, you can reset the phone then run the backup program. Unfortunately, there’s a little problem with that.

Mr. FixIt was never a big phone guy. He hated talking on it. He had a separate digital camera he used. Facebook was just an afterthought…something to look at a couple times a year to see what was happening. Then, I came along…and created a monster. You see…with all my traveling, I really wanted him to have an iPhone so we could FaceTime, which was great. He didn’t need one with lots of memory, he said. He just wouldn’t use it, he said. However…he soon discovered all the cool things the phone could do and before he knew it, it was full.

Too full to update. Too full to run a backup. Too full for his free iCloud amount. It didn’t really bother him much. If he ran out of room, he’d take off an app, or remove some photos he didn’t want. It only became an issue when we needed to try to do a factory reset. You remember how, every year at tax time, I brush the dust off my laptop and turn it on only to find out there’s all these updates and scans and downloads I have to do before I can even BEGIN the taxes? Well, the same thing is happening with this phone.

We don’t have an Apple store within a hundred miles. The Verizon store isn’t much help either. We’ve taken things to the local “tech” place before only to be bitterly disappointed. I know we could just go buy a new phone, but before we slap that kind of money down, I’d like to try to fix it myself. I have as much or more techie experience as they do anyway, so I set to work on it yesterday afternoon when I got home from the farm.

Speaking of techie things, when did they get rid of iTunes? Somewhere along the line, they introduced something and very quietly swept iTunes into the virtual dustbin. While it was often a pain in the rear end to update and use sometimes, it was really great for backing up your iPhone and restoring after a reset. As it is, I have to upload all his pictures into the cloud. But first, I had to expand his cloud memory. But before I could do that, I had to get the phone to stop constantly running and stopping Siri.

Sometimes when I sleep on a problem, I wake up with the solution. That’s what happened when I was staying at the farm. I woke up in the middle of the night and knew…all I had to do was turn Siri off and we’d be able to access the rest of the phone. Sure enough, I found the setting, turned off Siri, and got to work.

Have I told you our internet out here in the country is powered by two possums and a squirrel? And sometimes the squirrel is tired. Land sakes…it took six hours and the upload indicator line was about a quart of an inch long. At this rate, we should have it backed up in…say…a week or two. Anyway, the bottom line is…it’s always something. You never know when you’re going to have a technical glitch and it’s going to totally throw you off your schedule as you deal with it.

Remember when we didn’t have cell phones? When we actually DID things…like go to the library and look something up. Or…read a newspaper or magazine. Or have a hobby like woodworking or stained glass or crossword puzzles. Are we more interesting people now that we know how to find the median rainfall in Zimbabwe or who the actor was in that insurance commercial? Are we happier? More content? If it all went away today, would we know how to bake a cake or fix a pot roast? What would we do with all the time we spent looking at other people’s lives? When Facebook and Instagram and Snapchat went offline for several hours the other day, how many times did you pick up your phone to see if it was back?

I am getting weary of this phone thing. But…I write. This is my platform. How long will I keep doing this? Will I still be telling you stories when I’m 75? 85? 95?!?! I don’t know. This part brings me joy, and I think it sometimes brings you all joy, as well. So, as long as there’s joy involved, I’m in. But, yeah…technology can be a major time suck.

It’s all about balance.

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”
Philippians 4:11-13 ESV

It’s That Time of Year!

Tue, 05 Oct 2021 01:14:00 -0600

Mr. FixIt and I went to town yesterday. We had a lot of errands to run. While we were in Sam’s, an announcement came overhead. There was no waiting for flu shots in the pharmacy. We’ve said for the last week that we needed to get that done so no time like the present. We finished up our shopping and went for the jab.

We are “of a certain age”, so we get the high dose vaccine. I think last year was the first time I had the high dose version. And, I have to say…it did kinda kick my butt for a couple of days. My arm was sore by nightfall, but…it’s something I believe in, so I’m willing to put up with the minor inconvenience of a couple achy days.

I’ve been getting vaccinations all my life, beginning with the polio vaccine. The downside of flu vaccines is…no one, including the scientists, knows exactly what strain of influenza is going to raise its ugly head in the fall. It changes every year. That is the thing about science. It’s not finished. We are always learning more and the key is to grow with that change.

I have faith in medical research…my last job was in clinical pharmaceutical research. I have a good understanding of what goes into that. That’s why I’ve always trusted the new covid vaccine. My cousin Val said it best. “Covid is a form of SARS, and SARS vaccines have been in development for ~20 years. Basically, they tweaked a known safe vaccine for this particular variant, much the same way they tweak flu vaccines.”

I am anxiously awaiting the Covid booster. We will probably need to have boosters annually…just like the flu shots. And, I will be in the front of any line to get mine. I want my life back. I think we all do. We were thrilled when we didn’t get as much as a sniffle last winter, I am sure that is a reflection of increased hygiene, wearing masks, keeping our hands away from our faces, and social distancing. I was telling someone the other day…we will continue wearing masks and following CDC Guidelines, even after this crisis is over. It just makes good sense to be proactive and practice prevention.

Get plenty of sleep. Eat right. Stay hydrated. Exercise. Practice good hygiene. Pray or meditate. Spend time in nature. Love and be loved…it’s good for what ails ya!

“So we can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?””
Hebrews 13:6 ESV

The Call of the Wild

Tue, 28 Sep 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Ever since I downloaded the birding app…Merlin, from the Cornell Lab…my ears perk up when I hear a bird. I’m beginning to notice if it’s a call I haven’t heard before. We are in the midst of a massive display of birds as they migrate south for the winter. The chances of hearing a new one is pretty big right now.

As I prepared to write my post last night, I caught the call of an unfamiliar bird. It was rapidly getting dark out and this bird was very close in our forsythia and flowering quince thicket outside our bedroom window. I quickly pulled out my phone and recorded the bird’s call and the app identified it as a Swainson’s Thrush. I did not set eyes on the bird itself, but so far this app has been really accurate in identifying bird calls.

When my youngest went off to kindergarten and I was walking in Glenwood Canyon every day for exercise, I took a geology class to give me something to look for and explore as I walked. It passed the time, I learned new things, and it gave me a greater understanding and appreciation for my surroundings. That’s the way this app is for me. I am a lifelong learner. Any time I can learn new things, I’m a happy camper.

We left yesterday morning at 7:30 to go to Columbus for my parathyroid scan. They’re still trying to find the two that went AWOL during surgery. It was a very long day. A Sestamibi scan isn’t hard to do. They give you an injection of a nuclear isotope, then they wait fifteen minutes and do the first scan. The first scan takes about ten minutes to do. The hardest part is laying very still after they tell you NOT to move! My ankle itched. My elbow hurt. I had a hair tickling my nose. But I did not move.

An hour later, they do the second scan. This time with a CT machine. That one takes twenty-five minutes. I made the time pass by counting to sixty twenty-five times. I didn’t make it…I kept falling asleep. The third and final scan is just like the first one…ten minutes of laying perfectly still. They handed me a card with my name and the name and amount of the radioactive isotope they gave me. The technician told me if I have to go through an airport scanner, I would set it off and to show TSA the card. Cool! Now I want to make reservations and fly somewhere before it leaves my body in three days!

The Nuclear Medicine tech was the nicest guy. His name was Mike. We made small talk. Somehow, Marshmallow Ranch came up…I mean, when DOESN’T it come up, right? Anyway, mike says when the kids are all grown and off on their own (they have SIX!), his wife is all about getting an RV and cruising the country full time. He said he was the one unconvinced. I gave him some sage advice…have his wife join Girl Camper and listen to the podcasts and learn all things camping and try it out for a year or two before committing to the whole enchilada.

I don’t regret the way my story unfolded, but maybe I should have held onto my Colorado house and leased it out or used it as an AirB&B. But, then again…if I had, I may not have ended up dating Mr. FixIt at all. And that would be tragic to have missed all the fun and love we have together. By the third scan, Mike informed me he’d had lunch with his wife and she was going to look up Marshmallow Ranch. So, Mrs. Mike…if you’re here, welcome to this wild ride. As my Mr. FixIt says… “There’s always an adventure with Ginny McKinney!”

“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

Playing Tourist

Wed, 15 Sep 2021 01:30:00 -0600

One of the places I’ve wanted to show Mr. FixIt is Red Rocks Amphitheater. Built in 1936 by the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps), a Depression-era public work relief agency, it is the coveted venue of every musician on the planet. I’ve been to several shows at Red Rocks. The first was John Denver in the late ‘70s, early ‘80s. Michael Martin Murphy and Starland Vocal Band opened for him. It was magical. Anyone who has been to a concert there will always and forever remember their first time. The view is amazing and the acoustics are incredible. I’ve also seen Casting Crowns, Mandisa, James Taylor, Willy Nelson, and several smaller local bands.

Yesterday was gorgeous. The temps stayed in the 70’s and there were even spotty rain showers but they didn’t amount to anything. We stopped at Duluth Trading Company and browsed then went to the Whole Foods at Colorado Mills for lunch. We stopped at The Brass Armadillo and prowled around the jam packed aisles of antiques till we were on sensory overload and came back to Ben & Sue’s. Everyone took an afternoon siesta then we went to Daughter #2’s house to teach her how to program her sprinkler system.

On our way home, I inadvertently showed Mr. FixIt an area of the city that I am sure he could have done without. I made a wrong turn and ended up in the north edge of the city where the homeless live in tents on any square inch of ground they can find. Those without tents just sleep out on the ground. I’ve never seen the homeless population so high here. It was so discouraging to see and I prayed for them as we passed through.

President Biden was in Denver yesterday and we managed to avoid any major traffic delays as he traveled from DIA to Golden. I would have liked to see his motorcade, at least. The closest I’ve ever been to a President was standing outside the White House and watching Air Force One land in Denver one time.

The nights are getting pretty darned chilly here in Colorado. We’ve had to throw extra blankets on the beds in the camper, but it really makes for good sleeping weather. Little is coming over today to bake Buttermilk Biscuits then we’ll have a down home southern breakfast for supper with the kids.

Just three more days and we hit the road and head for home. I hate leaving, but we have had such a wonderful time visiting!

“Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.”
Proverbs 19:17 ESV

Family Time!

Sat, 11 Sep 2021 01:30:00 -0600

My very handsome brother turns 70 tomorrow!!!

Ok…you all know me. I say I’m taking time off, then I can’t. This is my quietly meditation time before bed and I do that every day anyway. I might as well talk to you like I do every other day…as long as it’s not cutting into family time. We arrived to our destination in the mountains in the mid afternoon. It was too early to check into our VRBO. Daughter #1 had to go up to the college she attended to get something, so Mr. FixIt and I went to see my brother.

Yesterday was the day he was moved into his new digs. Like I told you the other day, he hasn’t been able to take as good care of himself in his more independent setting…especially since Covid began. At his level of care, the staff were there to encourage him to meet his hygiene and daily living goals. However, they were not there to do it for him. It has taken several months to get an opening in the step-up care setting and it finally happened yesterday.

When I arrived, I was appalled to find him the way I did. His hair was long and disheveled. His beard was dirty and unkempt. I asked him when was the last time he’d been to a barber and he said three months. Now, very likely the staff had encouraged him to go, but somehow he has it in his head that he only went once every three months when he lived in West Virginia, so he has probably been refusing them.

The very first thing I did, after greeting him of course, was to drive to Walgreens up the street and buy clippers. I came back, cleaned him up, washed and trimmed his beard and hair, and put him in a nice clean shirt. While I was terribly shocked and upset, I was thrilled to see my brother appear in front of me instead of someone who looked like a homeless person. The bottom line is…he’s in a section of this program with 24/7 staffing available to him in the four-duplex compound they’ve moved him to. He’s clean and groomed and happy. Today we will bring him to the VRBO we’ve rented and celebrate him all day! Barbecue and birthday cake and family from everywhere surrounding him with love.

When I saw him like that, it broke my heart. He holds a HUGE portion of real estate in my heart. I couldn’t help but feel that I’d somehow failed him…or our mom. She always wanted me to keep him in my home when she died. I told her that I would make sure he was always well cared for, but that there was a program near me that could give him a life and if it was God’s will he be accepted, that was where he would be.

He has always been very happy there and Colorado is his home. There may come a time when I need to bring him to West Virginia, but there’s a lot to work out with funding, etc. I’ll do the research when I get home. I think for now, we’ll watch closely and see that he has more one-on-one care at his new place before we cross that bridge.

The kids went to my daughter’s alma mater last night for the local football game. We are just a block from her high school and from the apartment I lived in before I bought my house a few miles from here.

Also, yesterday was Mr. Virgo’s birthday and today is 9/11.

It was an emotional day.

“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

Merry Christmas, Moon Pie!

Wed, 08 Sep 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Mr. FixIt and Ben rode the light rail train to Downtown Denver yesterday. They walked around Union Station then took the shuttle bus down to the end of the 16th Street Mall and moseyed back to the station. They stopped for lunch and, of course, they found a ton of people to talk to. I’ll have to say…Ben and Mr. FixIt are a lot alike. They’re both hard workers, they love to tinker and fix things, they both garden, they both are devoted family men, they both have the same great sense of humor, and they can talk to anybody about anything. I wish Colorado was closer to West Virginia so we could spend more time with our wonderful family.

I know it’s only September, but I gave Daughter #2 and her wife their Christmas present early this year. And, it’s going to have to count for NEXT year’s, too. They work hard and do the best they can to stay up with things around the house. But a series of events occurred in the last year that got them behind in their lawn work.

First, their mower broke. It’s not easy to find a lawn mower repair shop anymore and the one they found was closed. They are not mechanically inclined. So they used their weed eater…which was her grandpa’s old one from twenty years ago. It didn’t work well…then it didn’t work at all. At the same time, their sprinkler stopped working. There was covid and lockdowns and finding a new job and all their energy went to survival.

They got the sprinkler fixed, but the weeds had a huge head start and the west is suffering a mega drought. I have never seen so many yards look this bad in Colorado. I paid close attention on the way home from her house and every block has dead and weed infested yards. In their defense…it never was a really nice lawn to begin with. I wondered why she was coming to me for visits instead of me going there. Then she confessed…she was embarrassed by the state of her yard. Bless her heart. I told her I could care less…I’m the last to be “judgy”.

I decided to go to Home Depot yesterday morning early and buy them a lawn mower and trimmer for their early Christmas presents. Her dad agreed to go halves. I was checking out when she called to say she was going to grab coffee and head over.

“You just hang out there, kiddo. I’m in the neighborhood and I’ve got something for you!”

I pulled up and unloaded the truck and I thought she was going to cry. She hugged me and thanked me profusely. And we spent the next few hours working alongside each other…mowing and weeding. We got the first half done yesterday before it got too hot and decided to get back to it this morning and finish. I’ll tell you what…that thing is really powerful for a battery mower.

You know…a well manicured yard is something we were manipulated into having when our fathers came home from the war and bought their first house in the suburbs. The sign of affluence was a cookie cutter house and a lawn fit for the Queen’s croquet party. It’s an enormous waste…time, money, and natural resources. We’re going to have to rethink the front yard because they aren’t making more water and the climate is changing drastically. Wars of the future won’t be fought over oil…they’ll be fought over food and water. It’s not such a big deal where we live in West Virginia. The idea of watering your lawn is foreign. But here in the West…something’s got to change.

Daughter #2 and I didn’t get to do these kinds of homey gardening things together when she was growing up. Her dad and I split up when she was just ten years old. Then it was shifting back and forth between houses. I just don’t remember working in the yard with her at all. But yesterday was fun. We chatted comfortably. When we were finished, we took our hot and dirty selves out for lunch at Wendy’s and sat in the shade to eat.

She has today off then heads back to work on Thursday. I have to say…this is one of the best visits we’ve ever had and I am so, so happy to spend such quality time with her. I’ll get to spend some time with Daughter #2 and her family over the coming weekend when we go see my brother for his 70th Birthday.

This mama’s heart is happy!

“You cause the grass to grow for the livestock and plants for man to cultivate, that he may bring forth food from the earth and wine to gladden the heart of man, oil to make his face shine and bread to strengthen man’s heart.”
Psalm 104:14-15 ESV

When is it a Disaster…When is it Just…Life?

Wed, 25 Aug 2021 01:30:00 -0600

There are truly disasters that occur. Things that could not have been predicted that befall us and change our lives in a heartbeat. The floods in Tennessee…the terrible ice storms in Texas…the dreadful fires in the west. These are all things that, aside from the unfortunate predictability of increased global warming, are still horrifying to watch. And even more horrifying to be a part of.

I’ve been thinking about my grandparents and my parents and how they lived through the Great Depression and World War II. Those were both events that shook our country to the very core. Our great and great great grandparents lived through the Civil War…a time when the very fabric of our being was torn in two. They didn’t throw their hands up and cry woe is me. They rolled up their sleeves and put others first. They put their shoulders to the wheel and pushed forward with all their might.

We’ve become both softened and hardened by technology. We’re soft because there are machines and computers that do everything for us. Everything…EVERYTHING is done electronically. We’ve put all our eggs in one basket and it’s not going to take long for someone to figure out how to take a sledgehammer to them and it won’t be pretty. We’ve become hardened because it’s hard to tease out fact from fiction for the typical Joe and Jane America. We’ve become hardened because we have a screen to hide behind and we don’t have to look in the eyes of our real and imagined adversaries.

But, with all that being said…I truly, truly believe there are far more good people in the world than there are really bad people. The thing is…goodness doesn’t sell advertising space. Sensationalism and keeping every single news cycle focused on all the terrible things can keep us in a constant state of anxiety if we let it.

I received an e-mail yesterday from the Census Bureau asking me to fill out a “Coronavirus Household Pulse Survey”. It asked questions they didn’t ask in the regular census. The purpose of the survey was to gauge our reactions to the pandemic. How it’s affecting us….physically, financially, mentally, and emotionally. It asked if we were having trouble meeting bills. Were we able to seek and receive the healthcare we needed. Are we getting enough food. This is designed to find out where the trouble spots are and where resources are needed the most.

One of the greatest lessons of the Depression and WWII was the need for social services to help people through the tough times in life. And, it was fortunate our ancestors were largely farmers and hard work was already a part of their daily lives. They knew how to do all the things that need doing and, unfortunately, a lot of those skills have died out with them. I am a strong proponent of bringing Home Economics and Shop classes back to schools. I think there should be a class that teaches young people how to fill out job applications, balance a checkbook, file taxes. I’ve seen programs that match schools with nursing homes and senior centers in order to enlighten both demographics. There are places that put day care centers in nursing homes and it benefits the elders as well as the littles.

How can we preserve the skills that are rapidly dying? What skills do you have that you might share with young people? What if all the electronics went away tomorrow? Who would know what to do without YouTube and Google? These are things that roam around in my head when I’m not busy enough, I’m afraid. But they are things that should be addressed. Our great grandchildren’s lives may depend on it.

As disastrous as the pandemic has been, these sorts of things are just a part of life. Sometimes life is cake…and sometimes it’s really, really hard. Devastatingly hard. Knowing we are not alone in our difficulties can go a long way in calming our fears of the unknown and the anxieties of uncertainty. God walks with His children…always. That was one of the biggest gems I discovered in the flames of my grief. While I was a widow and I was crushed…I was never alone. We are brokenhearted over many things right now. But please know this…God draws near to the brokenhearted. It is when we can communicate with him most intimately.

“Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”
1 Peter 4:10 NIV

#Skills, #Talents, #Knowledge

The Hits Just Keep on Coming

Tue, 17 Aug 2021 01:30:00 -0600

I was awakened by the gentle tapping of rain just before dawn yesterday morning. The temperature was in the mid sixties and I slept well. I reached up to slide the window closed above my head so the coming rain wouldn’t get in the camper. You have to be really careful with campers. Even a small leak can lead to damages that will eventually kill a trailer.

The previous owner had the large skylight over the bed replaced in July when she noticed a small leak. We’ve had a few really hard rains since we bought the camper and we were thrilled everything worked perfectly after we switched out the faulty GFI outlet. Living with a trailer is like getting married…you never know exactly what you have till you’ve slept with it a while.

I’ve been staying out in “The Birdhouse” as much as I can since we bought it so I can learn the ins and outs and any little quirks she may have. When yesterday’s pitter-patter of rain drops turned into a constant drumming on the roof, I figured I’d better be getting a move on. I had an appointment at noon to get the new tires put on.

West Virginia storms are often a constant torrent of rain all day…sometimes for days at a time. When there was a little slack in the storm, I quickly started closing up the camper so I could hook it up to my truck. I took the blankets off the bed to fold them and put them away. When I pulled the last blanket off…there was a wet spot on the sheets about fourteen inches across in the corner under the newly installed skylight. What the heck? I ran my finger along the bottom edge and sure enough, water was coming in!

I quickly got the camper secured and hooked up to my truck and headed to town. I was way too early, so I sat in the truck for a little bit to catch up on some correspondence. I finally went in…still too early for my appointment, but I knew they would have to find the tires I had ordered from the internet and had delivered there.

The young man who checked me into the automotive department was pleasant and efficient and knew exactly where my tires were. I walked in with him because I wanted to see the date they were manufactured. You have to be careful because you can get “new” tires that are already two or three years old. I don’t want old tires. These were manufactured this year.

As I stood there looking at them, something seemed off with these tires. I ordered three ST185/80R13 LRD 8Ply Carlisle Radial Trail HD Trailer Tires…to be exact. Why three when the camper only has two wheels? Because, I wanted the spare tire to match. Remember…those tires were manufactured in 2014. NOT dependable when you’re going to drive cross-country.

I asked the young man what was wrong with these tires because one seemed larger than the other two. The two were strapped together and he said he thought that was what made them look smaller. I wasn’t convinced.

“Ummmm…you wouldn’t mind checking those numbers for me, would you?”

He did. And checked them again. Just as I suspected, the single tire was the 185 size, and the other two were 175’s. Come on…you’ve got to be kidding me, here. So, they refunded me for the wrong tires and reordered the new tires. Hopefully they’ll be in by the end of the week or so and we can get them put on. We still have some wiggle room with time on our side.

I contacted my friend Lynn who owns Setzer’s World of Camping down in Huntington and we’ll take the camper down on Wednesday to see what’s going on with that skylight. Hopefully it’s a really quick and easy fix. By early afternoon, the rain was gone and the sun was shining again. This is just a minor stumbling block. Compared to everything else that’s going on in the world today, this is nothing to worry about.

“Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.”
Proverbs 19:21 ESV

I Can’t Just Scroll on By

Mon, 09 Aug 2021 01:30:00 -0600

To my friends who refuse a vaccine and want me to scroll on by and shrug my shoulders:

Let’s say I see a friend whom I love, texting on a railroad track, and a train is hurtling toward her. People have told her the train is coming but she thinks maybe trains aren’t real. She’s reading her FB posts and telling people it’s ok to stand on railroad tracks. She’s never been hit by the train before. And besides, she’s heard you don’t get hurt too bad when the train hits you anyway. And, by God, it’s my Constitutional right to stand on this track and get splattered like a watermelon. I should just mind my own business.

Some really smart people have developed a way to keep the train from hitting people, or at least not killing them, but…it involves her doing something first. She read that this “fix” is worse than getting hit by a train. It’s not safe. Standing in front of the train feels safer. She refuses the fix…for all kinds of reasons of her own that many don’t understand.

It’s really hard to stand and watch someone you love get hit by a train. I imagine it’s pretty gruesome. But, let me tell you, my friends, if I see you standing on a train track with your nose on your screen and a train is coming, I’m not going to “scroll on by.” That’s depraved indifference. I’m going to try to help you and get you out of the way of the very real possibility of death, or lifelong damage. It’s how I’m made. Besides, when you DO get hit by the train…and it IS coming…it’s not just you it affects. It’s all of us.

I know this is your railroad track, but it’s the devil’s train, and I won’t stop telling people about the danger.

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2:4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Don’t Touch the Pretty Caterpillar

Thu, 01 Jul 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Happy July!

When I was a little kid, I was playing in the Guthrie’s back yard. Our ball went into a shrub and I reached in to get it. I pulled my hand out in a hurry because it felt like something burned me. My clearest memory of that incident was how puffy the back of my hand got. And it hurt. It lasted for a few days and went away. I remember being told I probably got stung by a caterpillar, but I don’t recall seeing one.

This little bugger got me on Monday afternoon and it’s such an annoying itchy mess on my neck. I didn’t know about the little hairs sticking in your skin just like the soft, downy “hairs” on some forms of cacti. I didn’t know you need to take a piece of sticky tape and pluck the little hairs out of your skin. The caterpillar landed between my collar and my skin and when my granddaughter told me it was there, I reached up and felt around which ended up pressing the hairs not only into my skin, but into the fabric of my collar. I wore the shirt for another two hours and every time I turned my head, I was poking myself over and over with more of those little barbs.

The particular caterpillar involved was most likely a Definite-marked Tussock Moth Caterpillar. This picture looks the closest to what I remember it looking like. I wish I would have thought to take a photo. Within an hour, the site started burning and itching a little. It was about as big around as a quarter. Tuesday there was definite spread and little red bumps. Yesterday, it was really red and there were definite hives. I did some searching online and there wasn’t any one remedy. It said to try over the counter steroid creams, or Benadryl cream. It said to wash the area and use the tape to remove the hairs. It suggested using cold compresses. It definitely said not to scratch the site. Yeah, right. I read that too late!

I downloaded the app from the Poison Control Centers last night, entered all the information I had, and was told what I am experiencing is normal and I don’t need to go to the ER. It said it was ok to use both the topical Benadryl cream as well as oral for a short period. Cold compresses would soothe the area. And stop scratching. It said it can take up to four days to resolve. As I write this, I’m at about 54 hours. I truly believe this was the worst of it and it’s going to start getting better now.. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll be on the lookout for hairy caterpillars and stay as far away from them as I can!

We went to the farm yesterday to mow. It started sprinkling on us as soon as i got off the riding mower. We headed home, put everything away, and the moment we walked in the door, the sky opened up and it poured the rain down, but it didn’t last long. We had several quick thunderstorms zip through but no real rain to speak of. We did have severe rains and flash flood warnings last night, so we’ll see what happened once the sun comes up today.

We drove to town late in the afternoon to buy a big tarp to put over my little ‘67 Franklin. The old one ripped apart in less than a month’s time. We got it covered just as the rain hit at home. We had ice cream for a treat, and that was the end of the day. Little enjoyed just hanging out in her room much of the day. Down time is important for a kid. Today, we need to walk for exercise. Then this afternoon we meet Frank & Beans at the farm for a run-through of how things work.

There’s always a story, isn’t there?

“The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it.”
Proverbs 22:3 ESV

Four Baby Birdies and the Bath

Mon, 21 Jun 2021 01:30:00 -0600

The New Bathroom Floor

We have a security light out at the end of the house…the side we painted and put a new door on this spring. We’ve also been doing a lot of work outside on the front porch because it’s covered and Mr. FixIt can work out there when it’s raining. Sometimes a bird nests on top of that security light, but I hadn’t seen one, nor had I heard any babies chirping…but there WAS what I assumed to be and old nest up there.

Mr. FixIt came in yesterday and said there was a little baby bird out on the sidewalk that had died. I went out and looked. The baby had a few feathers, but it’s little tummy was still naked and transparent. I picked it up carefully and put it in a small cardboard box and went back to what I was doing. Five minutes later, Mr. FixIt came in again and said there was another baby bird, but this one was alive. I asked him to get the ladder and I could put it back in the nest, but it died before he could even get the ladder out of the garage. I put the second baby bird in the cardboard box.

I went back to the project I was working on, and sure enough…ten minutes later, Mr. FixIt came back in and said there was a third dead baby bird on the sidewalk. I didn’t get it. He was running a saw, but it was on the other side of the house. He was passing by twenty feet below the nest from time to time, but that shouldn’t have upset the mama bird. We needed to run to town to get some more supplies for the new bathroom, so we left for a few hours.

When we returned and put things away, I moved the rug by the door under the nest and there was another dead baby bird. I did some research and it said that sometimes a bird raising its first clutch will push her babies out of the nest because she doesn’t know what to do with them. Stress and frequent close encounters with the next may cause a bird to abandon a nest, but it was obvious this mama was kicking her babies out. I finally figured out what went wrong. When I picked up the first baby bird, my hands were nearly instantly covered with bird lice. I read in an article, if the nest is infested with lice, the parent may abandon the nest altogether or kick out the babies. So, I think that might be the answer.

It was sad and I hated to lose a whole nest of babies. I did knock the nest down later when I was sure there were no more babies up there. It’s all part of nature and living in the country. In the past, I’ve had to deal with birds nesting in places they shouldn’t be. If you take a rag and soak it in the old-fashioned liquid Lysol that comes in the brown bottle, you can then place the rag in the spot where you want to deter the birds from nesting and it will deter them. It was too dark to do that last night, so I’ll do it today.

Mr. FixIt finished the trim in the bathroom yesterday. It’s going to be so pretty when it’s done. He does REALLY good carpentry work. It may take him forever to get started on a project, but one he does, he’s a dynamo! I am one blessed little wifey…living the country life.

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

That’s How it Goes...On Some Birthdays, You Work!

Mon, 14 Jun 2021 01:30:00 -0600

When you live in the country, you have to take what comes and deal with it in the moment. Sundays. Holidays. Birthdays. When something needs your attention, you deal with it. I told you earlier in the week that we ran the snake down the back storm drain and got it running smoothly. Then, for some reason, it clogged back up on Saturday. We set up the sump pumps but...we couldn’t get any of the three pumps to work reliably and the hoses kept clogging. I know we need to do some major repair to that drain to make a more permanent fix, but until then, we jury-rig it to get along.

The weather prediction for yesterday was severe thunderstorms and heavy rain. It was also my birthday. And Mr. FixIt was trying to get the last of the lawn mowed with the push mower before it rained. Then, my bonus son called to say they were out at their daughter’s putting in hay and we should come out. We decided to take my chocolate cake out and share it with them, have a quick visit, and get back in plenty of time to snake the drain again.

Just as it happened last week, as soon as we hit the blockage, the water drained right down like a bathtub. The only thing we can figure is, with all this rain and hot weather, the forsythia and flowering quince growing over the drain pipe are sending roots in like crazy and clogging it up quickly. We’ve got it open again...and just in time. It rained very hard in the early evening. A grand thunderstorm with constant thunder and lightning all around us.

There’s not many things I like more than chocolate cake and thunderstorms! I’ll have to admit though...when I heard the storm coming, I came inside from the camper where I was set up to write this post. When they said “severe thunderstorm warning”...they weren’t messing around! I’m propped up in the guest room, the window open so I can see and hear and smell the storm, and I am impressed. This is the hardest rain we’ve had so far this year. I can’t wait to see how much is in the rain gauge. It’s a very slow moving storm and it is dumping rain like a waterfall. You can hardly see the trees on the hillside across the big creek. Mr. FixIt keeps going downstairs to check the drain. So far, so good.

Here we are...knee deep in June. We could be knee deep in water before it’s over with. There are flash flood warnings and Mr. FixIt says he has seen the water clear up in our field maybe five or six times in the 45 years he’s lived here.

Post storm note: Once the rain was over, we had just shy of 1.5” in less than 45 minutes! Everything was cooled down, clean and green afterwards. There is flash flooding all around the area. We went down to check the creeks and I noticed the water was flowing backwards up the ditch where our storm drain comes out. In less than a minute, the water raised at least a foot. We could hear the trees cracking on the other side of the creek, so we quickly backed away. It was really impressive, but...we’re still here!

“May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the earth!”
Psalm 72:6 ESV

My Cup Runneth Over

Fri, 11 Jun 2021 01:30:00 -0600

We’ve had some big time rain in the last several days. When we had that dry stretch, the thought went through my mind...we should get the drain snake out and make sure the roots aren’t encroaching in the French drain around our house. That’s what the gutters drain into, and if we don’t keep it free and clear, we can easily end up with water in the basement. We’ve been diligent about it since last fall, but the last time we did it was just before we went to the beach in April. Needless to say, there’s been some root growth and our procrastination bit us in the butt yesterday.

I bought a water sensor several months ago. It is connected to our weather center that I bought Mr. FixIt a few years ago. The sensor sits on the cement floor by the door and as soon as it detects water, it sends a text to my phone to let me know. That’s great, except for one thing. I have notifications turned off except for emergencies and I forgot to include the sensor as an emergency! *shaking my head*

We kinda slept in yesterday. At about 9:30, I looked at my phone and there was an alarm notification for 4:00am! I jumped up and found Mr. FixIt and told him the basement was wet. We both went down and fortunately, it wasn’t bad at all. But that drain was certainly plugged up. We set up the sump pumps and got them going to try to get ahead of the game.

I didn’t feel well yesterday. I keep getting this pain between my shoulder blades and some pressure in my chest so yesterday was the day I decided to get it checked. After tests and an EKG, we decided it’s a combination of stress and my hyperparathyroidism. Both can cause symptoms that mimic a heart attack and after watching Mr. Virgo die, I don’t take chances. I came back home and rested in the afternoon and felt much better by dinner time.

Pork chops, baked potatoes, and fresh steamed asparagus is just what I needed to start eating a more balanced diet. Once I did the dishes, I went downstairs and the two of us worked on the drain. We ran the drain snake down and when it hit the spot that was clogged, the water just drained down so nice. We ran a hose down and flushed it out for ten minutes for good measure and gave each other a well deserved pat on the back.

We finished the day trimming the giant forsythia bushes along the fence. We reached as high as we could, but I refused to let either one of us get up on a ladder to trim the high stuff. I have my limits and that’s where I draw the line.

I was thinking about that drain as I sat down to write this post. Our lives are often like that drain. We go along taking good care of ourselves till we start getting too busy. Things happen...like a pandemic, and husbands with strokes, and a contentious election, and an insurrection, and your lifelong happy place sells and you can’t do anything about it, and then it’s mowing season and the house is a mess and company is coming and.....BAM! The drain clogs...the bucket gets full...my cup runneth over.

I’m better about giving things to God. I really am. But, old habits die hard and I just put my head down and put my shoulder to the wheel and keep pushing. Today is another day, and I can get up and try again. I am just really glad we got that drain unstuck and we will all work better now.

“Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad.”
Proverbs 12:25 ESV

On a Saturday Night in West Virginia

Tue, 08 Jun 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Roller Rink in Belpre, OH - photo by Harry Barnett

I was born in the Fifties and grew up in the Sixties. It was a fine time to be a kid. We didn’t have a lot of money and we didn’t really go out and do a lot of “stuff”...especially if it cost money. Most of our Saturday nights were either spent at home or at the farm with Grandma and PopPop. During the summer, Saturday wasn’t any different than any other day of the week, except for one thing. Saturday night was “Skate Night” for the cool kids.

I wasn’t...WAS NOT...one of the cool kids. My cousins were cool. I knew people who were cool. But somehow...I missed out on the cool gene. However, when the Stanley’s moved in down the street in the summer of ‘66, I found my partner in crime. Sharon was my age, in my grade. My very fist same-age friend. Everyone else in the neighborhood were either much older, or much younger. We soon became inseparable.

We did everything together. We rode bikes for hours. We took tennis lessons at the town park. We were awful, but we had fun at it. We explored the woods up on the hill above our houses. Even though I couldn’t swim and was terrified of water, we went to the pool and “laid out” in the sun. From first light, off we’d go whenever we could. As long as we were home by the time the street lights came on, we were good.

One of our favorite things to do was go to Cavalier Roller Rink. I was in awe of the older kids who could skate backwards and do spins and never fall down. We were used to those awful metal street skates you crunched down on your shoes with a key. Mine came from the Plaid Stamp store. I can still see them. They were shiny and had a foam pad on the ankle strap that was red plaid. We were really uptown in those, I’m telling ya.

Skating in rink skates was an entirely differently proposition. The floor was smooth as glass and the wheels met the floor with precision. Smooth....and slick as ice. We fell far more than we skated till we finally got the hang of it. I never did get to be a really great skater. I couldn’t spin or skate backwards, but I could skate arm in arm and in long conga lines. We played “Crack the Whip” which was deliciously terrifying when you were on the end of the line.

By the time we were teenagers, there was the typical posturing...trying to attract the eye of someone who interested you. Getting to skate with someone during the “Couples Only” skate was our loftiest goal. We most often sat that one out, munching on popcorn and soft drinks till we could get back out there and zoom around and around. I think back to those Saturday nights with great fondness. For several reasons.

One...I have a birthday coming up soon. Sixty-eight. How that happened...I’ll never know. But it’s been fifty years since we graduated from high school...fifty years ago today, to be exact. It’s been fifty years since I went to a roller rink, too. That’s ok...I don’t miss it. I just miss those days of not being reminded I have knees every time I stand up. I miss long summer days playing in the sun without a care in the world. I miss that feeling of hurrying down the street when you knew the streetlight would be on any minute. The sound of TV’s in people’s houses. The quiet conversations on front porches. The shouts of, “See ya’ tomorrow!”

There is a whole lotta space in the “dash” between then and now. A lot was done. Many accomplishments. Too many mistakes. A rich tapestry woven with the experiences we’ve all had over these last fifty years. We’ve postponed our 50th High School Reunion till next year due to the uncertainty of Covid over the last year. It takes a lot of money and planning to put on that show, and it would have been terrible to have to cancel. This way we have another year to take off some of this Covid weight! lol

I guess where I’m going with this is...my sweet friend Sharon isn’t doing very well right now. She has some pretty major health issues, then ended up with long haul Covid on top of it so she’s struggling to get better. She has a fighting spirit. After all, at church camp, we were notorious, as our theme song stated...

“We are the Night Owls, Mighty Mighty Night Owls, every where we go-oh, people want to know-oh, who we are, so we tell them....”

Please join me in lifting up my life-long, good time loving, slumber party giving, all night skating, best iced tea making, bike riding bunk mate in earnest prayer that the gifted doctors at Mayo Clinic will fix her up so she can get back to this wonderful life and we can finally go camping together!

I love you, Shubs. Please get well soon!

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“A friend loves at all times......”
Proverbs 17:17 NIV

The Ants are Back!

Thu, 27 May 2021 01:30:00 -0600

A couple of years ago, we were inundated with little black ants. They were everywhere, including places they were certainly NOT welcome...namely, my kitchen! Ugh! One morning I walked in to start my coffee. I left a box of cereal on the counter the night before and there was a black line of ants marching to and fro...in a direct line from the box to the corner of the window. It reminded me of that song we sang as kids... “The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah!”

I think they were so bad that year because our hummingbird feeder hung from a hook outside the kitchen window and it leaked. That just invited them in. I mixed up a solution of sugar and borax in a bottle of water. I saved a few caps from soft drink bottles, put a cotton ball in each one, and poured the borax/sugar solution over them till it was soaked. I kept several on the sill between the window and the screen. For a few days, they were just covered with ants, but they took the borax back to the nest and that got rid of them.

Last summer, we hung the hummingbird feeder in a different place and I as soon as I saw the first couple of ants, the cotton balls and borax came back out. They were gone before they got a foothold. I’m hoping the same will be true this year. Mr. FixIt forgot about the hummingbird feeder and put it up in the old spot where it hung for a couple of days before we remembered it shouldn’t go there. So, here’s hoping they will be gone soon.

Mr. FixIt is really knocking these chores off our very long list. Yesterday, he replaced boards in a door frame in the building where carpenter ants got to it. I continued sorting through papers and started another pile for shredding. Oh, and cleaned out the fridge. Who doesn’t just love THAT job? I fed my sourdough starter again because Little will be here in a month and I promised to teach her how to bake bread. I’ve been a little lax at feeding it so I may need to start fresh. I’ll know in a day or two.

The weather forecast said rain the last couple of days, but the most we had wasn’t even enough to wet the sidewalks. We are getting so dry, the grass is crispy when you walk on it. When the wind blows, yellow leaves float on the breeze as though it were autumn. The only upside when it’s this dry is less mowing. My sweetheart went out with the weed eater the other evening and was working on the bank by the road. The weed eater jammed and shut off. That’s when he heard a buzzing sound. He looked down and right in the area where the next swipe would have gone was a yellowjacket’s nest! They were going in and out of a hole in the ground. They aren’t very aggressive at this time of year, but come July, this could have been a very different story. God was watching out for my man, that’s for sure.

Mr. FixIt waters the garden every evening, but we’re going to have to start watering twice a day as hot as it’s been. I need to feed the tomato plants. The pool is clearing up more and it’s about warm enough to get in and vacuum the bottom. The exciting news is, the utility people are coming out this week to mark their lines so we can finally lay the electric out to my little campground! Between Mr. FixIt’s strokes and covid, that job got pushed back and I’m really excited to get it done. Then we can have campouts with my friends and it won’t cost a thing!

Well, the week is half gone. My goodness...how the time flies! The peonies started to bloom today. I’m looking forward to the weekend with a little break in the heat...and hopefully some moisture.

“Go to the ant, O sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise. Without having any chief, officer, or ruler, she prepares her bread in summer and gathers her food in harvest.”
Proverbs 6:6-8 ESV

A Day of Peace

Mon, 24 May 2021 01:30:00 -0600

After an entire week of angst and anxiety, I sat with my bible study on “Overcoming Anxiety” and let it go...again. How many times do we have to let it go?? As many times as it takes. I’m pretty well convinced it’s not the last time, but the peace I felt yesterday was complete and it gave me such an incredible sense of relief.

We got up early yesterday. We still aren’t attending church outside the home. We will go again...when we’re ready. My church yesterday was found at the farm. The grass isn’t growing terribly fast right now because we haven’t had any rain. But it was still time to mow out there, and I really don’t want the new people to take possession and have to get the baler out. So, we loaded the mowers up on the utility trailer and headed for the country.

I knew there was food out there, so we elected to have breakfast once we arrived. We had eggs and fried cornmeal mush with syrup and sat on the front porch to marvel at God’s precious handiwork. Once we finished and the dishes were washed, I hopped on the riding mower while Mr. FixIt took the push mower around the edges and the ditch out front. My step-son called to say they were coming for a visit, so as soon as the mowing was done, we loaded back up and headed home.

They had some work to do first, so I took the riding mower right off the trailer and mowed the Ponderosa. I just was finished when the kids showed up with pizza. We sat out on the deck by the pool and ate. They hadn’t seen the new carpeting yet so we went inside and talked while the guys re-hung the door Mr. FixIt painted. We had a lovely day with family and friends through texts and visits and phone calls.

I felt so good. I know to give things to God. I KNOW. But my mind gets carried away and before I know it, I’m down a rabbit hole and we’re off to the races. The good thing is, yesterday was so blessedly peaceful that it was a tangible reminder of the peace that comes with letting go and letting God do the heavy lifting. We weren’t meant to do the heavy lifting. That’s HIS job....if only we hand over the load. I’m grateful for the sense of calm I experienced...all day long.

“Don't worry about anything, but pray about everything. With thankful hearts offer up your prayers and requests to God. Then, because you belong to Christ Jesus, God will bless you with peace that no one can completely understand. And this peace will control the way you think and feel.”
Philippians 4:6-7 CEV

The Ice Cream Dodge

Fri, 14 May 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Lands...I’d say this has been a crazy couple of weeks, but it’s been like this since the end of February! I came home Wednesday while the Open House was going on over at the farm. I can’t even tell you what I did when I got home. But yesterday, I started in on the taxes first thing while Mr. FixIt worked on the flooring in the entryway by both doors of the family room. The carpet comes today and we’re ready. Between fussing with the computer and trying to help my sweetheart, I’d just about had it by evening. So, I insisted we take a break and go get ice cream.

We took our treats over to the park by the river, but it seems everyone in four counties had the same idea so we couldn’t sit in our usual spot with the view of the water. I calmed down, ate my chocolate/vanilla twist, and we headed home.

Have any of you used Turbo Tax? I’ve always used it and have never had a problem. Till this year. When I started doing this year’s taxes, some of the lines from last year didn’t populate. I went into the 2019 returns and there’s only about half of the data entered! I am certain I had the returns printed so I would have a hard copy, but I can’t seem to put my finger on them. All the extra space is filled with stuff from the carpeting project. I can’t seem to find the PDF file with our returns from 2020 and I’m about to pull my hair out.

I know...I’m the absolute WORST procrastinator. And they even gave us an extra month! I’m sure if I sleep on it, it’ll look better in the morning. Hopefully.

Adding all this extra clutter isn’t helping, either. I remember back to the time of a clutter free existence. It was so freeing and liberating and soothing. Now there’s crap...I mean, precious family treasures...EV-RY-WHERE! I don’t drink, so a glass of wine is out. It’s too cold to go sit outside and count the stars. So, I will do what I should have done in the first place. Invite Jesus to come right over here and carry this load for a while and let me rest. Tomorrow is another day!

I’ll tell you what, though. I’m NOT doing the taxes ever again! I’m letting the pros do it from now on. I don’t need this meshugaas!

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.”
Psalm 55:22 ESV

Every Year...It’s the Same Thing!

Tue, 11 May 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Ok, those of you have followed me oh, these many years know what happens every single year at tax time. I wait till the last week, then I sit down to do the taxes and the doggone computer decides it needs to choose THAT EXACT MOMENT to download thirty-seven updates plus a scan of the hard drive, then there’s an error downloading something and you’re on hold with tech support for three years and the whole thing makes me wonder why on EARTH I stopped drinking! Ok...that may be a small exaggeration...but still, all day on the computer and I was no further getting the taxes done than when I started. Except now my computer has every shiny new update created by mankind!

You might say...why don’t you do the updates ahead of time? At which point I would politely reply, “I did! About three or four weeks ago, I downloaded all my transactions from my bank and balanced the account....the first time I’ve done THAT in years! I also updated my security software and scanned my hard drive and cleaned the trash off it and defragged it. I was ready! But, nooooooooooo! Microsoft had to release a zillion new updates right at tax time. I’m blaming them. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

One thing I did while I watched the little hamster wheel turn on my computer screen was...knit. I figured if I had to be close by to hit “yes, I want this program to change my hard drive”, I might as well get something productive done. And it’s the darnedest thing...I didn’t have a bit of trouble with the pattern. I figured I’d be ripping out every other row. I think God took pity on me and let at least one thing go smoothly yesterday!

As I was checking my calendar, when I discovered...to my great dismay...that May 12th is TOMORROW! The open house at the farm is tomorrow at 4:00. OMGosh! I have SO much to do to get the house in the shape I want it to be. So, the taxes get moved to the back burner, again. And today I will work my hiney off and get this place ship shape!

I took a break in the afternoon and took a walkabout. The iris along the driveway have started to bloom. It was a cool day and the sun popped out every now and then. If West Virginia would stay 74 degrees year round, I’d be a happy girl. But before we know it, we will go from meat locker to microwave and it will be so sticky hot. I’ll enjoy this as long as I can!

“then I will give you your rains in their season, and the land shall yield its increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit.”
Leviticus 26:4 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

Life is a Mystery

Wed, 21 Apr 2021 01:30:00 -0600

A Halo Around the Sun...Life is a Mystery!

I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster this week...and it’s only half over. Here we are at the beach...enjoying our time away...yet, so much is going on, it’s hard for me to let loose and focus on relaxing into oblivion. Sometimes, life is just that way. It doesn’t serve exact dishes from an exact menu at exactly the time you want...or NEED them. It seldom works that way.

Practically on our way out the door Friday, my cousin sent me a message. My uncle has listed Grandma’s farm with an agent and it is being auctioned off. There is a minimum bid, and the Auction closes at 7:00PM on May 18th. I thought we had till July, but I’m sure it makes more sense financially to sell in the spring. It’s disappointing on many levels...not the least of which, my kids won’t get the opportunity to go say goodbye to the place. I’m hoping the new owners will be amenable to allowing this when they come for a visit in June. I’m also sending this link to everyone I know, hoping someone I know will snatch up this beautiful place and I can still come back for visits! Hey, a girl can hope! (Edit: I found out this morning...the auction ends 5/18 but the sale doesn’t close till 7/3!!! So, my plans for a gathering may work after all!!!)

I also got a call from the endocrine clinic and my labs show I have recurrent hyperparathyroidism. They couldn’t see those other two glands and they hoped they were ok, but obviously they aren’t. They called me again yesterday to address that, and some other tests that will need repeating in three months. I’ll need to have a specialized scan in September after everything heals and all the swelling is gone and we can try to visualize those glands that are playing hide and seek in my chest. After that, we’ll discuss what to do which is more than likely another surgery...this time in the chest. NOT the result I was hoping for, but it is what it is. My symptoms are back to what they were before the surgery, but I ten wonderful days of feeling like I did before this all happened, so that gives me something to strive towards.

My cousin and her family came and took a lot of the furniture from the farm back over the mountains. It’s theirs and I have no problem with that. They were careful not to take any of my things. I wasn’t worried that they would. And, it’s not the “things” that’s the problem. It’s walking back into the house when we get back home and seeing Grandma’s table and buffet and secretary desk and other things gone. It’s the change. It’s the loss. The loss of my childhood home...my happy place...my safe space. That’s what’s bugging me.

Then I think of my friend who lost her son...then twelve days later, unbelievably lost her husband, too. I think of my dear friend Sue who lost a year and her hair and her breasts to cancer. I think of my friend Sharon who is struggling with long haul covid on top of liver failure and sees her strength, and perhaps even her independence, slipping away from her. I see my Aunt and my Uncle struggling with health and memory issues. I see the young people in my family facing difficult challenges in their lives. I see the scary things of the world and my issues seem so paltry in comparison.

The Lord tells us, the things of this world will give us trials and tribulations. But He has overcome the world. And we can, too. It’s all a matter of faith and focus...letting go and letting God take care of us. We have to suit up and show up and get in the game and do our part...of course. But sitting here “crying in my beer” is not the answer to this situation. That doesn’t help me or anybody else.

I’m looking at the opportunities that lie ahead. Ok...the farm thing is just happening sooner than we thought. That’s less mowing and less responsibility...financial and otherwise. My friends’ loss gives me the opportunity to be more like Jesus and be of service to them. Not having the responsibilities of the farm frees up more time and resources for that. So? My hips hurt and I have weird pains that migrate about and I’m grumpy and can’t sleep. So what? I can still go see a beautiful sunset with my sweet husband and hold his hand and eat ice cream in the dark. I’m not dead. I’m inconvenienced. Inconvenience didn’t kill anyone.

As we got in the truck yesterday to go for a drive around the island and go antiquing, I looked up and noticed a halo around the sun. I’ve seen these often around the moon, and sometime will catch a refractive prism of light in the sky called a Sun Dog, but I’d never see a full halo around the sun except in winter. So, I took it as a sign...a God Wink. He was telling me... “It’s all part of the Circle of Life. Time is eternal...just go with the flow.”

Time to get back on my horse and ride.

“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

When We Get Spoiled

Thu, 15 Apr 2021 01:30:00 -0600

It isn’t normal to have temperatures in the 70’s and 80’s this early in the year in West Virginia, but when they go back to normal...we whine. Well, I whine, anyway. We are now back to much more seasonable temperatures here and with the rain, it feels a bit more like fall than spring.

We are preparing for our beach vacation to our timeshare on the Outer Banks. And, like any good Girl Scout, I’ve been watching the weather predictions for North Carolina. Every time we’ve been there together, there has been maybe one or two days out of the week that are a little cool with a little rain. This time, the highest temperature predicted is 68 on Friday. *sigh*

When you’re planning a trip and you are unsure of the weather, you inevitably end up taking a lot more clothes than you expect to take. We have laundry facilities in our condo, so we really don’t have to take much, but I always end up with enough for a six month stay. I am absolutely determined to pare down the amount of stuff we tote with us.

Food will be easier to deal with this time because we feel more comfortable going to the grocery store. Being fully vaccinated and wearing double masks and gloves, we should be perfectly safe shopping for food down there. Everything we take down has to be hauled up to the second floor, so it will behoove us to pack lightly.

In preparation, we ran the snake down the drain at the bottom of the back stairs and it went right through. I think if we do that every other month or so and keep it cleared out, we shouldn’t have any more trouble with it backing up. I was really happy about that. It means a bit more freedom for us to get out of Dodge more often.

Honestly, it’s hard to believe it’s the middle of April already! I was hoping to have my camper down to the dealership to get repaired long before this, but it just hasn’t worked out. I’m really, REALLY ready to go camping! As soon as we get back and the weather is good, that’s the next thing on the list. I do have a camping trip planned for next month and I can’t wait!!!

Things have gotten pretty much back to normal here since Mr. FixIt’s strokes last year...thank God! I count my blessings that it wasn’t any worse for him and his stamina is nearly back to where he was before. He can’t climb ladders anymore, and he has a little trouble with his fine motor skills in his hands...especially the left. But, if that’s the worst thing, we can handle it!

God is so good to us!

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.””
John 16:33 ESV

In Search of the Silver Linings

Sun, 11 Apr 2021 01:30:00 -0600

The Farm

Yesterday we talked about letting the farm go and the inevitability of change in our lives. I read the lovely comments and encouraging words you left me on my post and it gave me much to think about throughout the day. When life hands me lemons, I start looking for all the different ways to use them. There are so many ways to make a lemon sweet and more palatable.

When I took over the farm in 2016, I also took over the utilities. When I no longer have that to deal with, I’ll have at least an extra couple hundred dollars in my bank account. That’s a good amount of camping I could be doing. Also, we won’t be responsible for the mowing and that will give us a lot more time and less pressing need to always be here.

You know, normally I never would have had the opportunity to spend more than a week or two at the farm when I came home for vacations every year. After Mr. Virgo passed and I came back to West Virginia to help my elderly aunt, I had a taste of life in the country. It only lasted ten weeks that go round, but it was enough to let me know it was the life for me.

When I returned to West Virginia in the summer of 2016, I was presented with an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. My uncle was taking my aunt to go live with him and he needed someone to live at the farm and take care of it. He asked if I could come off the road and stay there for him. I didn’t have to think twice.

Having all this time to live in my grandparents’ house was such a gift from God. I did a lot of healing there. Not only from the wounds of losing my husband, but of losing so much of myself over the years. It brought me back to my simpler roots. I remember, as a doctor’s wife...talking to one of my lifelong friends. Apparently I needed to be brought down a peg or two because she reminded me, in no uncertain terms, that she and I had the same roots in the red clay of Appalachia and it would do me well to remember that.

I’ve never forgotten that conversation. Living a simple farm life after downsizing humbled me in a way nothing else has. As I read stories on Facebook yesterday, I was reminded of the most basic point. I am letting go of a house. I have friends letting go of their children, of their marriages, of their livelihoods. I have friends who are in life and death struggles with health concerns. I am letting go of a HOUSE. I’m not planning a funeral, yet I will grieve. I am not burying a loved one, yet I am bereaved.

It isn’t lost on me the way God is helping me through this. Daughter #1 and her girls will be here the week before we have to vacate the farm. We are planning a gathering of family to say goodbye to the old girl...and to the long line of loved ones who called her home and are no longer with us. Little is staying with us while my daughter takes Big to go see colleges. You see? I get to not only share the farm with Little, but I get to share my heart and the stories of her ancestors and instill a love and appreciation for what came before her. She and I have never been together....here. It’s extraordinary how well orchestrated this is. God is so good!

It is a natural process in life to grieve the things we lose that bring us such love. And, just as I have learned to keep Mr. Virgo’s memory alive within me, the same will be true of the farm. I will remember the sights, sounds, smells, and every little feeling that creaky old house gives me till the day I part this earthly plane. When I hear rain on the roof of a camper, I’ll be transported back in time to a little red house in the woods. When I lay my head on a pillow where I can hear the rushing sounds of water in a creek, I will close my eyes and remember.

When I hug those I love, I give away bits of the love my family poured into me. That love comes from an endless source...a fount of remembrances of love and joy and faith. I carry the farm within me. I AM THE FARM and THE FARM IS ME.

We are one and we are love...simply because, we were loved. By the family and by the land upon which we stood. For we are but sojourners here.

““The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine. For you are strangers and sojourners with me.”
Leviticus 25:23 ESV

Knocking Down the To Do List

Sat, 27 Mar 2021 01:30:00 -0600

Forsythia!

As soon as coffee was consumed, it was time to start working on the security system. Mr. FixIt headed on out with the first camera and his tools and got to work. I messed around in the house and pretty soon, here he came back to ask for my help. He still has a little dexterity issue after the strokes last spring and, even though he hates to ask for help, he trusts my ability to do so.

Little did he know, as soon as we began, my sugar took a tank and I could hardly hold the drill because my hand was shaking so much. I bailed and went inside to eat something. By that time, I had the mounting hardware lined up and taped to the soffit where he needed to drill, so he had it done in just a few minutes. Sometimes it takes more than one person to do a job that we used to be perfectly capable of doing alone. Those are bitter pills to swallow when you’ve been as independent as Mr. FixIt and I have.

We played around with the camera angles till we got what I wanted to see. We have decided to add two more cameras to the building and another on the back of the house. It’s a little extra money, of course, but I am so impressed by the quality of the picture this thing gives. I haven’t had any experience with security systems except for that episode in Colorado after Mr. Virgo died.

I let a young sales girl talk me into adding a security system to my house because it was dark on that hill, the green space went up the side of the mountain from the back of my house, and there were no street lights out there. It was really dark, and I was alone. We had talked about getting a system before, but hadn’t gotten around to it. I thought maybe this was the right opportunity.

Remember how I’ve told you not to make big financial decisions in the first year after your spouse dies? Well, there are reasons I’ve told you that...because I made some pretty big mistakes. That security system from Vivint cost me a lot of money, then when I sold my house the following summer, I called to cancel. I was informed I needed to take the service with me to the next house because I hadn’t had the system long enough to cancel without penalties. I asked how much it would cost to just get out of the contract. I’ve forgotten the exact amount, but I think it was over $2000!

This system is made by Cobra and you can buy it with two cameras for $229 on sale right now at Harbor Freight. Each additional camera is $99. But there are no monthly fees and you can record events, view remotely from an app on your smart phone, and it has an intercom. You can yell at intruders and tell them you’ve called the police. Pretty cool. At least I’ll know who comes and goes out there.

The boxes from the Florida trip are emptied and preparations are being made for the next trip...a REAL trip...to the beach! I’m cautiously optimistic and hope the trend in covid continues to go down with more vaccines. We’ll see what happens after the craziness of spring break! I’m also preparing for a really BIG event! Daughter #1 and Company are arriving in late June and Little is staying with us for a week!!! OMGosh! I can hardly wait to see them. Daughter #2 called yesterday and she got a new job. So like is really good this week here at Chez Ponderosa!

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

Day 360: Look Who’s on the News!

Thu, 11 Mar 2021 02:30:00 -0600

After I had my covid test on Tuesday, they told me to “go home and stay there...don’t be around anyone that you don’t live with.” Well...that’s, like...everyone in Florida! I lasted till the sun started to turn everything golden then I couldn’t stand it...I had to get out of this room. We decided to take a drive and find a place to get something to eat. A Wendy’s salad was just what the doctor ordered! We pulled into a Walmart parking lot to eat and the sun was setting. I had to grab a quick photo. We were saying how pretty the sunset would have been over on the beach. But we watched the local news and the next week is supposed be 80-82 and sunny! I’ll take it!

Another fun thing...we were watching the NBC Nightly News last night and Lester Holt always does a feel good story at the end of the show. A couple of weeks ago, I saw a little notice on the NBC News app asking people to submit the last photo on their phones from before the lockdown last year. I submitted a photo showing me holding our three great grandchildren on my lap at the mall. When the story started, I started to say, “I wonder if they’ll show my picture?” And...boom, there it was! I was amongst good company with Dr. Fauci and Lester Holt himself. Pretty fun!

You can watch the video on my YouTube Channel HERE.

It was bittersweet, though...looking at all those pictures of all those people who had no idea the world was going to be forever changed the following day. It’s been a year now since the pandemic was declared. Just a few more days till my 365 Project is complete.

I’m well prepared for my surgery today. I read the entire preparation app again that the surgical center provides. I have my little bag packed with the things I need for my very brief stay. I have to be there by 5:30 in the morning and I should be finished and out of there by noon. Then we can head to our other hotel and rest the remainder of the day. Thank you for all your prayers and support. This has been a long journey getting to this point. I read the stories of some of the other people who suffer with hyperparathyroidism and how it seems to take forever to get a diagnosis. This is not an innocuous disease. If left untreated, it can cut years off your life and it makes people miserable. I am so blessed to be here now!

Let’s do this!

“Christ gives me the strength to face anything.”
Philippians 4:13 CEV

#Endurance, #Hope, #Faith

Day 354: It’s a Matter of Engineering

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

Where the water meets the creek from the drain we baby!

I told you all the other day about the water coming off the road into our yard when we get really hard rains. It saturates the ground, overwhelms the French drains around the foundation of the house, and the runoff has nowhere else to go but the drain at the bottom of the back stairs. I cannot tell you how many nights we have stayed up or set our alarm for every three hours to check the basement or suck up water at the door where it comes in.

First of all, that’s a pain in the butt. Second, we are prisoners here because we cannot just up and go someplace if rain is predicted and...let’s face it...it’s West Virginia. We get a lot of rain. We called the Division of Highways and they said they would send someone out. The next morning. Mr. FixIt and I were talking over coffee and he said he didn’t think it was going to do any good since they haven’t done anything up to this point.

So, we called the Charleston office a second time the next day. I just wanted to ask when there was an engineer here in our district, because this road has an engineering issue. It wasn’t forty-five minutes till they DOH folks were here. They checked the road from every angle and agreed the road was not graded properly to begin with. They’re coming in with an initial quick fix to replace the dirt and gravel berm to keep the water from flowing down in the yard. Then they’ll come back when a grader is available and shave the road down on the far side so the water will flow into the drainage ditch where it belongs.

You know what they say...the squeaky wheel gets the grease? Well, sometimes you just have to look on a higher shelf for better quality grease, ya know what I’m sayin’? The folks here couldn’t have been nicer to us and we are so grateful we may finally be past this terrible problem!

Today is “Feel Good Friday” and I’ll tell you what...that made me feel pretty darned good!

“God will bless you, if you don't give up when your faith is being tested. He will reward you with a glorious life, just as he rewards everyone who loves him.”
James 1:12 CEV

Day 353: The “Anniversa-reaction”

Thu, 04 Mar 2021 02:30:00 -0600

There’s a day in October that hits me in the gut. I don’t know the date, but I know when it’s coming, and I feel it when it arrives. When I was in 3rd or 4th grade, I was playing on the playground after lunch when a little girl came up to me and asked if my brother went to Sumner School. I said yes, and she went on to tell me she heard on the news that the little VW bus they used for transporting the kids had been in a terrible accident and someone was killed. I knew my brother was on that bus.

The air went out of the world. I had a sudden rush of adrenalin surge through me and I didn’t know what to do. The next thing I remember, my dad came to get me early from school and told me about the accident. He said mom was at the hospital with my brother and he was hurt, but he was going to be ok. One of the other kids was also hurt pretty badly, but the driver of the bus, Mrs Anderson, was killed in the accident. I was terrified. At that young age, I was already a survivor of child sexual abuse, and I had developed a “shepherd reaction”. I wanted all my people safely at home around me. I never liked having them out of my sight.

The trigger for this anniversary reaction could come from anywhere. The way the light slants on a certain day. A particular smell. Strains of music that was playing at the time the trauma occurred. It could be anything.

Anytime we experience trauma, we often feel a foreboding when the anniversary of that trauma is pending. I feel it in October. But I especially feel it in March. My ex-husband devastated me when he asked for a divorce on March 15th. Mr. Virgo died on March 12th. While I love that spring is coming, March is hard for me. And now, we are about to experience a collective anniversary reaction.

March 11, 2020 is the day the WHO declared we were in a global pandemic. And March 13th is the day the President declared we were in a state of emergency. Friday the 13th. The lockdown began. We all experience these types of events differently, so it goes without saying, the anniversaries will also elicit varying responses. There isn’t anyone in the world who was untouched or unfazed by the news of Covid.

In some ways, we are light years from that dark day. But, there are many reasons to feel hopeful at this point. We couldn’t have imagined there would be a vaccine for at least two to three years, yet now we have three in less than twelve months. That’s phenomenal progress. We have knocked the numbers down a great deal. However, the REASON we have knocked the numbers down is better hygiene, wearing masks, keeping socially distant, and avoiding indoor crowds, so please...keep it up. It shows character and strength when you persevere through troubling times.

If you find yourself feeling anxious and depressed this month, be gentle with yourself. We haven’t lived under this kind of threat since the Cuban missile crisis...and never this protracted. You aren’t alone. Find someone you trust to talk out your feelings surrounding the trauma of the last year. If you need to seek professional help, there is nothing wrong with that. We all need someone we can talk to about the tough stuff.

“Don't get tired of helping others. You will be rewarded when the time is right, if you don't give up.”
Galatians 6:9 CEV

Day 349: Heading into Mud Season

Sun, 28 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

After a week of stunning springlike weather, the waterworks were scheduled to get turned on during the night. We’re supposed to get more than two inches of rain this week. When that is added to already saturated ground after the snow melted, we have flood warnings out all over the state. As a matter of fact, in an effort to be prepared, our Governor has issued a State of Readiness for all of our public services...just in case. I have to say, I have been pleasantly surprised by the actions of the Governor’s Office during the last year.

While I love those sunny spring days that make you feel like you’ve been let out of prison, I also deeply appreciate the heavy rains of spring. Especially if they are accompanied by thunderstorms. The only bad thing is, the ground has been frozen for months, and as it warms up and rain floods over saturated soil, the shallow root systems can give way and we get a lot of falling trees. This can take out the power lines, which isn’t as pleasant. Hopefully, we’ll get by and not have to run the generator.

We’ve faired well with our second dose of the Covid vaccine. Last night marked 48 hours, and my arms is only slightly sore....a little warm, red, and itchy still. Mr. FixIt says his is gone. I spoke to a friend of mine yesterday and she said she had a terrible reaction with headache, fever and nausea, but she was starting to pull out of it last night. The rest of my friends seem to have gotten through it well. We live in a rural area, and I hate to say, there are some being persuaded by faith groups to abstain from the vaccine. This saddens me.

Our parents didn’t think twice about getting us vaccinated for polio when we were kids. I never thought twice when I got my own children vaccinated. I worked in a family medicine clinic and vaccinated hundreds of little ones. We all want to get back to normal life. And it isn’t going to happen until we have herd immunity. And, the longer we wait, the more time there is for the virus to develop variants that can be even more harmful. I know the numbers are going down...that is a good thing. But, they are kind of maintaining a plateau right now, and that’s not good. I don’t want anyone else to suffer and die unnecessarily. I’m sure you don’t either. I know it’s a personal choice, but if you’re worried about how it might affect you, I’m here to say it’s not bad at all and I would encourage you to take it when your turn comes around. Let’s get this thing over with and get back to our lives!

I wanted some comfort food yesterday, so I made beef and noodles. I love when I cook enough for four meals...I can just pull one out of the freezer and pop it in my Hot Logic Mini and have a hot meal in record time. I have some apples that I don’t want to go to waste so I’m going to bake a pie today. We have a lot to do this week, so we’re making our lists and checking them twice. Every day is another day closer to surgery and feeling better!

“So we can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?””
Hebrews 13:6 ESV

Day 346: Sunshine is Good Medicine!

Thu, 25 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

We had an important appointment yesterday...one we’ve been putting off for too long. Time to make our wills. Not everyone dies with a will, but in my experience, if you really love your spouse you make a will. I didn’t realize how stressful this simple exercise would be for me. When you talk about wills, you are really talking about death. And I didn’t adequately prepare myself for all the feels that would well up surrounding that.

Frankly, it made me upset. It didn’t occur to me that it would...but there it was. And when I get upset like that, it’s right in the pit of my stomach and makes me sick. It always has, so I don’t know why I’m surprised when it happened yet again. But there’s a level of shame in there....like, I should be stronger than this.

Yesterday was warmer than it has been since last fall...clear up to 72! I was wandering around the house, preparing to go and willing myself to calm down and not let my nerves get the best of me. Mr. FixIt finally said, “What’s going on, honey? You ok?” He could tell...he knows me so well. I almost cried. I told him I was just freaking out a little and to give me some time.

I went back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed and breathed slowly. I took something to settle my stomach. Then I had a brilliant idea...maybe we could have the appointment over the phone. I called the attorney’s office and they said that was absolutely doable...they would call me back in half an hour.

When they called, I was settled in my big red chair and Mr. FixIt in his. And in the comfort of our home, we loved each other through what was surprisingly difficult for me. I am so blessed I have a loving and supportive husband who really “gets” me. It didn’t matter one bit to him whether we had the appointment at home or in the attorney’s office or even if we rescheduled. His primary goal was my comfort doing something he knew upset me. I love him so much for all these little things.

The sun was gorgeous and the air was warm with the early breath of spring. I sat out on the steps of the deck and turned my face to the sun and let its warmth creep into my bones. Mr. FixIt went out to change the oil in my truck, and I curled up under a blanket and took a nap. When I got up, all was right in the world again. I am so grateful I am past the age when I beat myself up for not being “perfect”. I am what and who I am and so is my husband. This is why we are such a good team...it may not have worked between us when we were young and dumb. This way, I think we got the best version of each other.

“I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”
Philippians 4:13 ESV

Day 343: Mourning the 500,000

Mon, 22 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

This is Atlanta as seen from space. It is the home of around 500,000 people. People like you and me...young, old, professionals, blue collar workers, grandmas and grandpas, moms and dads, kids of all ages and stripes. Imagine, if you will, driving into Atlanta today and find it...empty. Every citizen dead and gone...lost one by one over the course of one year. It’s unthinkable, isn’t it? No one in the airport, no one in the banks or hospitals or shops...every house deserted, collecting dust.

We surpassed that terrible line in the sand yesterday. We have lost 500,000 beautiful souls from this nation. And that is probably a much lower than the actual number of lives lost because not all were diagnosed. Thank God we have passed the holiday surge that threatened to break the medical system. Now we’ll see what happens after spring break.

More and more people are getting vaccinated, although there was a bobble in the system last week from the terrible winter storms across the country. We are heading into a warm week and will probably lose our snow by next weekend. Then it will be mud season. That’s fine with me...that’s what muck boots are for. I would much rather have to kick off my boots at the door than to be shut in because of the ice and snow. We have to be so careful when it’s slick outside. Mr. FixIt is on medication that could make a blow to the head lethal. And my bones are thinning because of this parathyroid tumor. I can’t afford to have a broken hip. So we become more cautious. Just another reminder that time marches inexorably onward.

I really miss getting together with my friends. I came across a photo of my “last normal thing” the other day. I was at dinner with the women from my Bible Study Group. I look at that and think it looks foreign...no masks, sitting next to each other, laughing and hugging. I know we will get there again, but I also know...I will never look at gatherings in the same way for the rest of my life. I will look at them with far more gratitude than I ever did in all my years. AND...I will wash my hands and not touch my face and, even when the threat of covid is minimized, I will still wear a mask during cold and flu season. I mean, why not? I have only had that one little stint of a couple days of sniffles just before Thanksgiving. Masks and good hand washing keep respiratory illnesses at bay. I will be so grateful to have our second shots on Thursday.

Mr. FixIt made split pea soup yesterday. I don’t know what it is about that stuff, but I cannot stand it. It tastes gritty to me, the color is questionable, and even with ham hocks in it, the smell is unappealing. I warmed up leftover Chinese food and called it good. I’m sure we’ll have to freeze some of it since I can’t expect him to spend the rest of the week eating nothing but pale green wallpaper paste...errrr, I mean....split pea soup.

I’m hoping to get out and walk more with the lovely temperatures coming this week. Wednesday is supposed to get up to 59 degrees here. That sounds like Heaven to me. I hope you all are doing well, are getting through whatever challenges you have been facing, and you are seeing a small glimmer of spring outside your windows today.

“And God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night. And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years, and let them be lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light upon the earth.” And it was so.”
Genesis 1:14-15 ESV

Day 340: Always Have a Plan B!

Fri, 19 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Do you ever plan something and then, for no real reason you can put your finger on...you begin to feel uneasy about it? I’ve felt that way for an entire month, ever since I scheduled my surgery. It was never enough to really DO anything about it based on just feeling a little off. But still, it kind of feel a little off.

Yesterday morning, I awoke to a text from my friend Diane saying the vaccine clinic had been rescheduled to next Thursday due to inclement weather. I got up and looked out the window and we had a good 5” of new snow on top of what we already had. Believe, I was blessedly relieved that we didn’t have to go out and drive in that mess.

Having our shots next Thursday instead of yesterday presents a different problem. It means it will only be two days after our shots that we are scheduled to pack the truck and drive to Florida. If we have a reaction and don’t feel our best, the last thing I want to do is start on a long road trip. And, we’ll be staying in hotels for nearly two weeks. I want at least ten days of immunity before we do that. So...that left only one option. Postpone the surgery.

Initially, I asked if we could postpone for two weeks. Unfortunately, that puts us right square into the first week of spring break. That’s something we pearly want to avoid, covid or not. Instead, we pushed the surgery back one full week. That will give us enough time to be on top of our game before we pack up and head out on a road trip. It also puts us closer to the middle of March and hopefully this winter weather will have wound down by that time.

As soon as I rescheduled, I felt a sense of relief. It felt like a “better fit”, if that makes any sense to you. After this many trips around the sun, I’ve learned to pay attention to my gut and if my gut says this is better, then it’s better.

Some time after dark last night, I was video chatting with Daughter #1 on her way home from work when Mr. FixIt got up and looked out the back door. There were tail lights out in our field. Two cars had tried to pass each other on our little road and as soon as the pickup truck’s tires went off the edge of the road, he knew he was a goner. Down he went into the field and Mr. FixIt made a bee line out there as fast as he could before the guy spun too much and tore up the grass. The young fellow in the pickup called his dad to come down with the 4-wheeler to pull him out and they were soon on their way.

I’ve been playing with my genealogy all week so I need to write today. I have some writing jobs to send out, so I’ll work on that and start getting things together for the taxes. And, today is Friday...another week closer to spring!

“I ask the glorious Father and God of our Lord Jesus Christ to give you his Spirit. The Spirit will make you wise and let you understand what it means to know God.”
Ephesians 1:17 CEV

Day 339: The Grander Scheme of Things

Thu, 18 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

We are supposed to have our second Covid shot today, but the weatherman says Mother Nature may not cooperate with us. I’m praying the roads are clear and the vaccine clinic isn’t rescheduled. I want to have as much time between the vaccine and my surgery as possible...not only to improve my chances of staying healthy on our trip to Florida, but also to make sure I feel my best when we get there.

I baked the Chocolate Chip Cookies yesterday. The turned out great...thick, golden around the edges, crispy on the outside, moist and chewy on the inside. Really sweet...but so flavorful. I rarely make a cookie recipe that you have to chill the dough. I don’t have the patience and when I bake cookies,, it’s usually because I’m having a hankering for something sweet and I don’t want to wait for it. Patience is not my virtue, really.

We also took down the Christmas decorations and alas...the living room window looks so bare and sad. The nights are getting visibly shorter though, so I’m not quite as upset about it as I would have been in early January. I carefully wrapped each precious ornament in newspaper and tucked them inside a big plastic bin to keep them safe till next year. I told Mr. FixIt as we toted them downstairs to the storage room...leaving them up this late will just make the time feel shorter till we put them up again.

As I was working on my genealogy yesterday, I ran across a 2nd great grandmother who was repeatedly listed as her mother’s sibling. I had such a hard time trying to figure out what was going on when I finally found her birth certificate. It turns out, her mother was unmarried and there was no father in the picture, so the grandparents registered the birth as their child. I suppose in the 1800’s, it was easier to get away with doing that. And, it was a proper way to save face.

I imagine that happened a lot back in those days. It made me think about how complex genealogy will become in the generations to come. People living together without being married, having babies on their own, same sex marriages, and transgendered individuals may be difficult to trace two hundred years from now. Then again, it’s hard to even imagine the world two hundred years from now, isn’t it? I mean, look what’s happened in the last two hundred. If somehow George Washington could be transported to 2021, he wouldn’t recognize what we’ve done to his country.

These are things that keep me up at night. Well, actually...these are the things that I occupy my mind with when I can’t sleep. One game I play is imagining all the human things that are happening at the same time. There are babies being born and people dying...all at the same time...every minute of every day. People are marrying and divorcing. Tragedies are happening while at the very same moment, great celebrations take place. It makes me feel more connected to the greater web of humanity when I picture some people dancing in the rain while others are huddled inside, trying to keep warm. Some are fed and some are hungry.

On the basest of levels...every single one of us is connected in some primal way. This is the thinking of climatologists, anthropologists, and philanthropists. This must be the way Bill Gates looks at the world and wonders how he can use his vast wealth and intellect to help humanity. When Mr. Virgo worked at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen, he and the general manager of the hotel were the only people with a high enough security clearance to work in the room at the Forstman-Little Conference. This was an event where people came together and talked about the world and how they see its problems. Notables from around the globe gathered...politicians, dignitaries, sports figures, news people, financiers...notables from all walks of life. I found it fascinating and would have given just about anything to sit quietly in the back of the room to listen.

We live such small lives...like ants in a colony...doing our thing, feeding our people, working to put food on the table. I find it refreshing to think larger from time to time, if for no other reason that to shake the cobwebs off and do something...anything...to create a lasting legacy, making my mark on the world. I was talking with Daughter #2 the other day about my writing. I told her...there may come a day, 100 years from now, when my descendants will stumble upon this blog and find it a fascinating glimpse into the life of their 3rd great grandmother’s world. That is another reason I write...and it makes me smile.

“These are things we learned from our ancestors, and we will tell them to the next generation. We won't keep secret the glorious deeds and the mighty miracles of the Lord. God gave his Law to Jacob's descendants, the people of Israel. And he told our ancestors to teach their children, so that each new generation would know his Law and tell it to the next.”
Psalms 78:3-6 CEV

Day 337: Ice, Ice Baby!

Tue, 16 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I grew up in West Virginia, but I had barely turned twenty when I left the state and moved to England to live with Hubby #1. I really didn’t have much of an understanding of the weather here, other than big thunderstorms in the summer and sometimes snow in the winter. Since moving back here in 2014, I’ve come to appreciate the subtle nuances of our climate in the Mountain State.

The winter of 2014-15 was pretty remarkable as far as snow and arctic temperatures go. I know this because I was living in my camper on a bluff overlooking the Ohio River. That was one crazy season with lots of snow and double digit deep freezes that was so cold, my refrigerator stopped working in the camper. I made my escape one weekend...exactly six years ago now (has it BEEN that long?) and checked into the Historic Blennerhassett Hotel in downtown Parkersburg.

The winters since really haven’t been that bad. This is my fourth winter living here on the Ponderosa. We do what all people do who live out these country roads in preparation for winter storms. We make a run to Sam’s for some goods, we make sure we have batteries for the flashlights, and we charge up all of our electronics and chargers. Because, we are a heavily wooded state and trees fall down in storms.

Our major task since Friday has been starting the generator. Mr. FixIt dragged it up to the house from the building and tried to start it without luck. He tried again Saturday and Sunday. Sunday evening he got to the auto parts store in our little town just before they closed to buy a can of starter fluid. He spent the majority of yesterday hunched over the engine on the generator, cleaning it out and changing to fresh fuel. He pulled and pulled and pulled that starter cord and nothing.

I went out in the afternoon and helped him lift it up on a piece of plywood set across two sawhorses so he wouldn’t have to bend over so much. Finally, he was ready for me to help him put it back on the ground. It tried to start several times but just wouldn’t do it. Mr. FixIt had to take a break so I asked if I could try starting it. I made a small adjustment to the choke, pulled three times, and it started up just like it was brand new! Of course, the look on my husband’s face was priceless. lol

Like the majority of the country, we are in the path of a major ice storm. In all my years, I have never experienced this. My friend Kate has been sending out videos of the damage to her trees in Texas and it’s crazy how hard this storm is for them. It started raining lightly around 4:00 and just before dark, I could see icicles forming on the pergola out on the deck. I think the gutters are frozen because the water is running over them in several places. As it gets colder, we are going to be in one heck of a mess.

As I sat writing this, I didn’t hear the usual road traffic out front and it always surprises me how quiet it is without that droning in the background. I’m glad we are at a point in our lives where we don’t have to go anywhere. It always sits in the back of my mind that Mr. FixIt had his first stroke almost exactly one year ago. When I got up to come back to the bedroom to write last night, I looked at him and said, “You can’t get sick again...especially tonight.” He smiled and promised nothing would happen.

We can’t live in fear and worry about things that may never happen. So, as I walked down the hall, I just handed that particular weight to God and He’ll take care of it for me. He’s very good at that.

“So be on your guard! You don't know when your Lord will come. Homeowners never know when a thief is coming, and they are always on guard to keep one from breaking in.”
Matthew 24:42-43 CEV

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 333: I Shoulda Known Better

Fri, 12 Feb 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Winter Creek

One would think, after all I know about trauma and grief and PTSD, that I would know better than to watch the unfolding of the impeachment proceedings. I’m not going to get into a discussion of who is right and who is wrong. This is my page, so I have the right not to get involved in the political aspects of all of this. But, from a purely human standpoint, watching it all over again has been brutal.

The Hedgerow

Why did I watch? Good question. My best answer is, I’m an American citizen and when something of such import occurs, I feel it is my responsibility to know what’s happening. I was interested in seeing the exact timeline...which was well documented. And there were visual graphs that brought that information into clearer focus that I don’t think any of us were quite aware of before...especially those involved.

Mysterious Hole in the Snow...No Footprints...No Nothing...Just a Hole!

I made it through to about 1:30 yesterday afternoon then I became, quite literally, physically ill. It’s a combination of things, really. The wrong thing for breakfast. Coffee has suddenly started bothering me. And, unexplained stomach upset is one of the symptoms of hyperparathyroidism that I struggle with. Of course, one can only brush up against the triggers of PTSD so often without going over the edge and unfortunately, I pushed my boundary too far. It will take some work to re-compartmentalize that information, but it’ll come. And hopefully my upcoming surgery will take care of this particularly bothersome side effect of this disease.

Abandoned Nest in a Cedar Tree

In the meantime, I’m working on a few writing assignments and that is always a healthy distraction. I worked a little on the genealogy yesterday, but really...I just needed a break from the noise and the chaos, the TV and the screens, and just go outside and walk in the snow. We had quite a winter storm Wednesday night and it left us with about four inches of the white stuff. Mr. FixIt went out with his new snowblower and cleared the sidewalks once the snow stopped. He does like that and it’s good for him to have something to do.

Buckthorn Berries in the Snow

A walk in the snow did wonders for my disposition. Meandering along the half-frozen creek, listening to the sounds of winter birds chattering low in the hedgerow. The low riffle of water as it trickles across stones worn smooth by the ever present flow. Feeling the collapse of earth beneath my feet where the moles and voles are busy living their lives underground...creating soft tunnels you can trace by the slight mounds in the snow. Seeing the snow covered nests of the summer birds, long gone south for the winter, waiting patiently for the spring thaw and their joyous return. The snow around the feeders marked heavily with little four-pronged footprints of the dozens of visitors...enjoying the abundance of our feeders. The bright scarlet and vivid blues of the cardinals and jays as they swoop in from the brush and trees that surround our property. Trees that reach naked arms to the leaden February sky. I breathe the cold air deep into my lungs with a hunger I forget I have. This long, quiet darkness of winter can wear thin in these days before the spring thaw. But they force me to find the hand of God as he leads me beside these still waters...and restores my soul.

“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

Day 322: The Path to The Past is Long

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

I can see that I am going to need to put a little structure into my time spent chasing rabbits down the pathways to my past. If not, I could very easily sit myself down in my big comfy chair and never get up. It is not lost on me that my mom developed the pulmonary emboli that killed her by sitting in her recliner, day after day, doing genealogy research. I believe I will need to assign certain hours as acceptable research time. The rest needs to be spent on something more physical and productive in order to maintain good health.

That being said, I spent an extraordinary amount of time the last couple of days clicking on little green leaves and chasing innumerable “hints.” These are generated by the research of others as well as the algorithms of the website itself. You can’t just click and accept, either. You have to take some time and evaluate whether the information actually matches your ancestor or not. It’s tedious, time consuming, and definitely gives my mental faculties a good workout. Now, if I could just figure out a way to make it an aerobic activity, I’d hit the jackpot.

One of the most frustrating things in genealogical research is when you hit a dead end and there just isn’t any more information. I’m at that point on a particular 2nd Great Grandfather. They had a huge family with something like seventeen kids. Now, add spouses and their own big families and it amounts to TWO three inch thick volumes of The Nutter Family History. Right now, I can’t put my hands on my mom’s copies. I believe they are at the farm and I need to go out and get them. I need to do some laundry this week anyway, so maybe I’ll make a little sojourn out there for a couple of days.

I haven’t found anything too terribly exciting yet. Mostly just documents that support what I’ve already done. But I believe there has been a release of census data since I last did this because I’m finding a big influx of that. You can find a huge amount of information on families if the census asked the right questions. For instance, in the early 1800’s, census takers literally just counted heads, male...female...and, unfortunately, race/freedom. More modern census takers asked for names, ages, what their role and relationship was to the head of the household. It listed whether they were in school and sometimes asked the highest grade completed. (My maternal grandparents didn’t go past 8th Grade, yet they put every child but one through college.)

Delving back into this research is relaxing. And, I have to say, the level of peace I’m feeling these days is remarkable. It hasn’t hurt that I unfollowed, snoozed, or blocked any number of people on my personal Facebook page in the last few months. When you have nothing much more than a “Happy Birthday” relationship with someone you likely will never go out of your way to spend time with...when you have someone who expounds ugly, angry political rhetoric on every single post they make...when you find your blood pressure rises every time you see their name come across your page...seriously, it’s ok to step back and re-evaluate. It’s ok to take a break. And, it’s ok to unfriend and even block people if they’re just plain making your life miserable. Life is seriously WAY too short for that. That being said, I have friends with differing political opinions that I genuinely care for and I maintain a connection for any number of reasons. We’re an odd bunch, humans.

Speaking of odd, a few years ago I was helping reach out to my fellow high school classmates to encourage them to attend the next class reunion. One particular fellow I reached wasn’t on Facebook. I encouraged him to come on and join us so we could all catch up with each other. I have a robust circle of friends from our graduating class that I sincerely enjoy. This guy was a little...odd in his response. He asked why on earth he should join something that would be able to track his every move for the rest of his life. I poo-pooed the whole thing and thought it was just a little bit more than crazy. Then, I watched 60 Minutes last night.

First, their story about the bereaved of Covid just broke my heart. I will forever have tenderness for those who grieve the untimely loss of their beloveds. Then, the subject switched to...of all currently relevant things...the popularity of DNA testing under the auspices of genealogical research. There is so much more going on in the back side of that...namely genetic and pharmaceutical/biomedical research. It went on to discuss security breaches, computer hacks, and the role China is playing in the race to win the next “space race”...the acquisition of DNA, genomes, and the resulting data. It is more than a little disconcerting to hear about the real probabilities of “Big Brother” and the data we’ve already essentially given away.

Well, at this point, my DNA is out there. So is the DNA of my children and grandchildren... simply because I spit in a test tube to find out where my ancestors came from. We really have no idea the impact what we do today will have on the future. It’s anybody’s guess and the possibilities are endless. I think back on my odd little friend from high school and think...

Maybe he wasn’t so odd after all.

“I was young and now I am old...”
Psalms 37:25 NIV

Day 320: Fighting the Fog

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Aging ain’t for sissies, is it. I’m sixty-seven now, and while that’s not elderly by any stretch of the imagination...I’m no spring chicken. “Grief Brain” threw me for a loop. The first couple of years after losing Mr. Virgo, I couldn’t remember things without writing lists and then I couldn’t remember where I put them. Things just seemed to fall through the crack and it really scared me. But, with time and healing, that got a lot better. Then...I had a closed head injury.

In February 2017, a man pulled out in front of me and I could not stop. I t-boned him, the airbags went off, and we went around in a circle in the road. I had a pretty bad concussion and a subdural hematoma and I lost my memory...about two months before and at least two months after. I mean, like...I had a whole trip to Florida that I do not remember. I saw the historic re-enactment complex at Fort New Salem on the internet. I went and showed it to Mr. FixIt and suggested we should go see it because it looked really interesting. He looked at me weird and said...quietly, “Honey, I took you there.” I had absolutely no memory of it until he described what it looked like and that the day was rainy and the wood on the buildings were dark grey with moisture. Then, it was like remembering a photograph I was shown fleetingly once, but I couldn’t recall the circumstances around it.

That was really scary, but again, with time and healing, I was able to develop and hold onto new memories, although those months surrounding the accident are still a dim and distant fog. An out-of-focus picture album of black and white photos...grainy and crackled.

Sometime about three years or so ago, I started getting these weird, phantom pains that migrated...here for a while, then there for a while. My temper got really short and I was just grouchy about everything. I couldn’t sleep worth a darn. And the fog started rolling in again. This time, I was really afraid I was getting Alzheimer’s. I have trouble finding words when I talk. I swear things have never happened when Mr. FixIt swears just as strongly that they did.

We went for a drive yesterday to find the house my parents lived in when they were first married. I may have seen it when I was young, but even looking at it didn’t ring a bell with me. It turns out, I’ve driven past it hundreds of times...I just didn’t know its significance. Then, I told Mr. FixIt I wanted to find the house my aunt lived in when I was a little girl. He said I had shown him that house before and told him someone I knew had lived there. It couldn’t have been my aunt’s house because I didn’t even know where it was until I saw the address in the city directory yesterday when I was working on my genealogy.

We drove toward the area when he pointed out a house and said, “There...it’s that one.” He said it may not be my aunt that I told him had lived there, but I’ve pointed that house out to him several times and told him I used to know who lived there. I actually drove past the house twice yesterday, and...even though I have driven past it all my life...I have absolutely no memory of ever telling him I know someone who lived there. None whatsoever.

When these things happen, it’s terribly disconcerting. However, now I know that this is a very common side effect of hyperparathyroidism, and when I get the tumor removed, it should improved greatly. I certainly hope so, because it is very upsetting to walk around in a fog when you know you’ve been a whole lot sharper than this. As soon as we get the second dose of the covid vaccine and I’ve had a few days to get through any side effects, I’ll be calling to schedule my surgery in Florida. Then I can get my life back on track and feel more like myself again.

It’s not just the mental fog. Some days I hurt something awful and have a hard time getting up and down out of my chair. Muscle and joint pain and headaches on top of the brain fog is enough to get you down. So, until I can get the surgery done, I continue to work word puzzles about an hour every day and do what I can to keep my brain active. I’m going to start walking and eating healthier, as well. There are brighter days ahead...and I’m not going to miss out on anything. I have too much living to do to just settle for this!

“Once again Jesus spoke to the people. This time he said, “I am the light for the world! Follow me, and you won't be walking in the dark. You will have the light that gives life.””
John 8:12 CEV

Day 318: Lead with Love and Make Amends

Thu, 28 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I had to run to town yesterday for a followup breast ultrasound. I have a cyst growing where the one was removed a couple of years ago. So, it turned out ok, I think. The official report isn’t in yet, but the tech says I just have a tendency to produce cysts. As long as they’re benign, I’m ok with that. Just remember...get the tatas checked regularly, ladies.

As I sat in the waiting room, another lady sat the recommended six feet away. I knew I recognized her, but couldn’t place where...and you know, with masks, it’s even harder. I finally asked where I might know her from. We finally determined we live in the same small town, so we probably see each other at the Piggly Wiggly, or maybe Dollar General.

The technician came to the door with my chart and called, “Ginny?”

“Yes!” I smiled and began to rise.

The woman with the long gray hair said, “Ginny. Did you go to Bethel Church???”

Bingo! That’s where I knew Judy from. It was so good to see her...it’s been several years. I wished her well and followed the technician. Just inside the door, I stopped and said, “I’m sorry...would you excuse me for just a moment?”

I stuck my head back out the door and said, “Judy, did you know Aunt Peeps passed away?”

She did not. I told her briefly what had happened. In that moment...in a better time...I would have walked over to her and hugged her. Instead, I just gave her my warmest look and said, “I’m so sorry to tell you like this, but wondered if you knew.” She thanked me and I continued in the back with the technician.

When I got home, I made a big pot of chili. It’s going to be cold and snowy and that’s perfect weather for it. I chatted with my son-in-law’s mom for a bit and mentioned what I was cooking. She texted back...

“I wish we were there to have chili with you!”

Tears immediately stung my eyes. Oh, I’m missing my people so.

When will the better days come? How will we be? What lessons will we have learned from this experience? How can we move forward with love and grace in the aftermath of such ugliness of the last few years?

I came across this song yesterday by Dolly Parton. Dolly has a big ol’ heart of gold and I found her words so encouraging, reminding us that maybe...just maybe, we don’t want to be like we were before all of this. Maybe God has shaken up the great big Etch-a-Sketch of life and he’s giving us a clean slate...a new way to act...a new way to BE in the world.

I want to be more grateful for the goodness in my life.

I want to demonstrate my love for my family, friends, and fellow man.

I want to be a light on the hill and shine the true love of Jesus out through everything I do.

I want to hug more and harp less.

I want to smile more and snipe less.

I want to appreciate every gift in every way.

I want to love more...and more...and more, still.

There will be better days ahead, I promise...when life is good again.

Listen to Dolly’s song “When Life is Good Again”.

“My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.”
1 Corinthians 2:4-5 NIV

Day 317: Missing my Gal Pals

Wed, 27 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

BC...Before Covid...I used to get together with my girlfriends from high school at least once a month for coffee. We had a class dinner at least a couple of times a year. I met friends for walking, lunch, or live music. It seems like that was a whole lifetime ago...maybe two. And now, with the threat of the more contagious variants, it can make one weary.

I’m feeling there is promise of better days ahead, though. Mr. FixIt and I have had our first dose of the covid vaccine and we get the second on February 18th. The numbers are wobbling but with a slight turn downward. We’re getting a better handle on what needs to be done to prevent the spread and hopefully keep the variants down till we can reach a higher number of antibodies in the general public. Even wearing two masks doesn’t bother me. Whatever it takes to get through this quicker and get it behind us.

As I told you yesterday, I’ve finished copying the posts from Facebook to my blog. But, what I did yesterday is scroll through the website and double check each post to see if they display properly. There is a step I take in posting where I select the main image I want to show up as the lead on each post online. It’s surprising to me how many times I missed that step. So, I spent a few hours scrolling back and fixing that. And, of course, that took me down memory lane.

It’s amazing how adaptable human beings are. We are more careful with distance, we wear masks more, and we practice better hygiene. I worked in medicine for 42 years and I swear, I’ve washed my hands more in the last year than I ever have before. I’m fine with it, because I know...or at least I HOPE...it won’t last forever. While I do believe this coronavirus will always be around, I also believe we’ll get enough her immunity through vaccine and illness to tamp it down.

That doesn’t mean I don’t miss my girlfriends. I am really looking forward to the warm, sunny days of spring where we can sit in the park with our coffee and visit. I’m not pushing it with indoors stuff because...I want all of my girlfriends THERE. I don’t want to lose a single one of them. I know right at the moment, there is mass confusion with the vaccines, but help is on the way. And, I know there is a disparity in the way the vaccine is being distributed. That’s also being worked on. Poor countries need the vaccine as desperately as the wealthier ones.

I still keep the healthcare workers, the scientists, the frontline and essential workers, our soldiers, our leaders, and all the people of the world in my daily prayers. I am loyal to my country, but I am also praying hard for ALL humanity...no matter where they live...that this crisis will be conquered sooner rather than later.

It kinda puts missing my girlfriends for coffee into perspective, doesn’t it?

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
2 Corinthians 12:9-10 NIV

Day 316: A Monumental Project

Tue, 26 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

When I first began Marshmallow Ranch, it was just a little Facebook page promoting jewelry I made in my art studio. I networked part of the day to build an audience, and worked the rest of the day in my studio upstairs. Mr. Virgo was working at the Ritz Carlton in Aspen, and I was still working part time as a Clinical Pharmaceutical Research Coordinator. I slowly but surely gained followers and shipped jewelry out several days a week, when the unthinkable happened and my world crashed down around me.

After my husband’s untimely death, I bought my first camper and took off for three months in the wilderness and backroads of Colorado. I loved it, I sold my house, I hit the road, and made it to West Virginia. Somewhere around two years of writing here on Facebook, I thought maybe I should have a separate website. But, for one reason or another, I just didn’t follow through with that idea until December 2016.

Ever since the day my website went live, I’ve had a link from my FB posts over to my website. Some don’t mind it...others hate it...but it’s the only way to build a social media platform. And, if you want to have any kind of standing with a publisher, that’s one of the first things they look for. I do want to get my book(s) published one of these days, so that became important to me.

That left me with a dilemma. What to do with all that writing that sat alone over on Facebook?

For one thing, sometime in 2017, Mr. FixIt shows up and my writing started to change its timbre. Time, healing, and new love set my feet in a new direction and not every piece I wrote was about grief anymore. Which isn’t a BAD thing. It’s the natural progression of healing, and I am glad I’ve been able to demonstrate the hope of a healing heart. But what about all those people who came down this road after me? While they are in their first and second and even third years of grief, the last thing they want to read is all the happy stuff I write about.

I want the newly bereaved to have ready access to the parts of my grief that more closely match what they’re currently going through. The website is great because there is a list of months and years so you can read along chronologically. However, that meant I had to hand copy four years worth of blog posts from Facebook. No easy task.

I worked on it sporadically whenever I had chunks of time...usually during the snowy months or when I traveled. I knew if I was actually going to finish, I needed to buckle down and force myself to wade through it and get it done. I started just after Thanksgiving 2020, sat down every day in my big red recliner and copied and pasted for hours every day. I don’t think I took more than a day or two off.

Well, last night at 9:35...I finally finished!!! Now, if one were so inclined (and I can’t imagine that they would)...the entire collection of my writing is readily accessible on my website! Huge, HUGE amount of work. I’d love to be able to figure out how many words there are on there. lol It makes me giggle when I remember my mom telling me I had “the gift of gab.” Daughter #2 says I can “talk to a tree.”

Maybe so...but I still haven’t run out of things to say. I’ll still keep plugging along...till I decide I’ve said enough. I love coming here and talking to you every day. You have become my coffee mates...my sounding board...my creative outlet...my muse. I know pride is a sin...but I think what I’m feeling more is...a sense of great accomplishment. There are now 2,558 posts on my website. If I averaged ~600 words per post, that would be 1,534,800 words!!!

I think I have a few more left in me. Here’s to learning and growing and exploring and living and...writing!

“But as for you, be strong and do not give up, for your work will be rewarded.””
2 Chronicles 15:7 NIV

Day 315: Turning the Corner on Covid

Mon, 25 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Slowly...ever so slowly...the Covid surge from holiday travel and gatherings has begun to come down. My friend sends me the West Virginia data every morning like clockwork. And we examine it for any promising sign that things are improving. I know the dominant driver of this decline is the fact that it’s January. We don’t have too many places to go. No holidays, no celebrations, no huge gatherings. Just football and fireplaces and reading a good book.

Hindsight is always 20/20. They asked that we forego the family gatherings of Thanksgiving and Christmas. They warned us what would happen. And it did. And it was even worse than they thought. I worked in medicine for 42 years. I cannot imagine going through what those frontline workers have endured over the last three months. There will be fallout from this long after herd immunity is achieved. We will find the ripple effect reaching points we cant even imagine right now.

The relief they must feel when they see the numbers coming down. When they see vaccines coming. When they see you staying at home and wearing a mask when you’re out...not only for yourself and your loved ones, but for THEM, as well. I know it must give them hope. I know it does me. There is a very real part of me that feels guilty that I received the vaccine and my beautiful daughters haven’t. One is a house spouse right now, and she probably already had Covid. But the other is a teacher and will be expected to go into the classroom without immunity. And that scares the h*** out of me.

In the overall grand scheme of things, the collective stress level is coming down, I think. I know I feel it. As I sat down to write this, I had to really think about something to say. I mean, seriously...we watched football, sat by the fire, took naps. There are no alerts buzzing on my phone. No Breaking News Reports on the television. There are many things that are still uncertain, but living through it all has become far more promising.

We’re having a fairly easy winter here in West Virginia so far. We have a little snow predicted this week, and one night is supposed to get down into the high teens. But that is so much better than the winters I lived through in Colorado when it wasn’t unusual to wake up to twenty-four below zero and three feet of snow this time of year. I’ll take this any day of the week...especially when we get those beautiful sunny days that are exceedingly rare here.

As of last evening, I’m up to September 19, 2016 in copying my blog to my website. I have to copy through November 14, 2016 and I’m done! Great progress and a blessed relief. Pushing myself to complete this massive undertaking has been a labor of love and a walk down memory lane at the same time. I’m at the point where I moved into my grandparent’s farmhouse and was fighting a flea infestation from the farm cats. That was quite an ordeal at the time. Yet, I have such lovely memories of living on the farm.

I only have one trip to town on my schedule this week. I am sure I will have the website completed by this time next week and I can move on to the next thing. The weights are lifting, day by day.

“Worry is a heavy burden, but a kind word always brings cheer. You are better off to do right, than to lose your way by doing wrong.”
Proverbs 12:25-26 CEV

Day 314: Doctor, Doctor...I Can Walk!

Sun, 24 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I’ve survived a lot in my sixty-seven years. Abuse, trauma, addiction, depression. And, every time I’ve gone through a rough patch, I come out feeling such a tremendous sense of relief and gratitude that the pain finally stopped. I have to say...I felt that yesterday. When you are in the trenches for a long time, it’s really easy to convince yourself you’re doing ok. It’s not so bad. I can do this. Then, when the weight is lifted, you realize just how awful it was down there. It’s the same as when you’ve been very sick with a bad flu. When you feel better is when you realize just how sick you really were.

It seems something as ubiquitous as the “Bernie Memes” swept the internet, our country came out of the water at the deep end and gasped a lung full of fresh air. You could almost feel a collective sigh as people everywhere belly laughed for maybe the first time in a long, long time. It felt good. No...it felt GREAT! It felt liberating....like coming out of a dark winter into the warm sunshine of spring.

It’s been a rough stretch for an awful lot of people in this country and Bernie sitting in a chair EVERYWHERE was just what the doctor ordered. I felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders as I saw thread after thread on the internet...each meme funnier that the last. It felt...normal. Like, normal life. The Covid numbers are still awful, but they just might be slowing down ever so slightly. The vaccines are slowly trickling out, but help is on the way to coordinate the effort. And each day has incrementally more light in it that the day before as we slowly inch our way toward spring.

The sun was shining yesterday here at the Ponderosa. I sat in my big red recliner and worked all day on my website and I’m making great progress. I am up to the first week of September 2016. Once I finish copying November 14, 2016...everything will be on my website. What an accomplishment that will be. To be able to scroll down and see eight years of work at my fingertips. It makes me giddy to think such a huge undertaking is nearly complete. Between that and the stress released by lots of belly laughs...I’m feeling like a new woman today! We aren’t totally out of the woods yet, but my strength has been renewed and I can face another day...with a whole boatload more hope!

“I pray that God, who gives hope, will bless you with complete happiness and peace because of your faith. And may the power of the Holy Spirit fill you with hope.”
Romans 15:13 CEV

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 306: Observing History or Doom-Scrolling?

Sat, 16 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I’ve watched national disasters play out on TV ever since that fateful day in 1963 when our beloved JFK was assassinated. Bad and good...the theater that is America plays out on the screen before us. We watch for many reasons. To observe, educate, understand, and be advised. From “Ok, Houston, we’ve had a problem here” to “I am not a crook” to “Diana, Princess of Wales, has died in a car crash in Paris.” Our hearts leap to our throats and we turn our attention to the news.

This has been a solid year of “We interrupt this broadcast to bring you this breaking news report.” Seriously, there were times when I’d think, “OMGosh...what the **** now???” It’s stressful. Our bodies release cortisol in the response to danger and chronically elevated cortisol levels puts us at risk for many health problems including probably the most obvious...anxiety and depression. Not surprising.

It’s one thing to observe history, take note, feel the feelings, and get back to the business of daily living. It’s quite another to chase down story after story, inhaling them like a desperate chain-smoking junky sitting in the dark on the sofa with a bag of Cheetos and a beer. It’s called Doom-Scrolling....read a story, there’s a link to another, read that, hit the next link. Before you know it, hours have passed, you have no real answers as to what’s really going on, and your mind is buzzing like a toaster in a bathtub.

Guilty as charged. I do this sometimes. I’m an avid learner, a curious critter who wants to find out what makes everything tick. What makes them believe that? How did we get here? Who is saying what about whom. Maybe part of that comes from being in an emotionally abusive household with an alcoholic father. I wanted to know what was coming next and I’d do anything I could to be prepared. But, that kind of preparation lies dangerously close to control and we all know...there is very little in this world that we can actually control.

The chatter of impending violence surrounding the inauguration has had my inner investigator working overtime this week. I can’t fall asleep because my mind is churning in a dozen different directions, so I end up picking up the phone to check out “just one more thing”. Thursday night was like that and I finally drifted off to sleep around dawn, only to get an elbow to the back of the head when Mr. FixIt turned over. It was a long night.

We just have a few more days till this moment in time is passed and it becomes relegated to history. I pray for peace. No violence. No injuries or death. It’s liable to be a bumpy ride, so hold on tight. And remember, goodness wins in the end.

“Nothing is impossible for God!””
Luke 1:37 CEV

Day 302: The Birds of the Air

Tue, 12 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

It’s been a long time since we had a really deep down, heart-to-heart chat. It’s been a long time since I needed to process some really difficult things and deal with the resultant side effects. I’m NOT going to dive into politics here...and I don’t want to stir up a political maelstrom. If that starts up, I’ll just delete the unhelpful comments. This isn’t about politics. This is about pain.

I have PTSD. It’s one of those awful things you sometimes get when you face a particularly painful trauma, and I got it from watching Mr. Virgo have his heart attack and the ensuing resuscitation. It went on for what seemed like hours. I was left with flashbacks and debilitating anxiety. EMDR went a long way toward easing that pain. And, it’s been a long time since I’ve experienced the effects.

After the events of last week at our Nation’s Capitol, I was surprised I wasn’t feeling worse than I was. I seemed to be handling things pretty well and went on about my business. I now realize what I had done was to compartmentalize my feelings. I kinda packed them up in a neat and tidy box labeled “Bad Things” and pushed it aside. That doesn’t mean I didn’t FEEL things. I just dampened them down and moved them aside.

Over the weekend I started getting a splitting headache and my body hurt everywhere. I was afraid I was getting sick, but this felt more familiar. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I had an experience a few years ago where I came into close contact with someone I believe to be dabbling in dark things. My relationship with God has been so strong since Mr. Virgo died, that I seem to have this radar that goes off when I’m around darkness. I not only feel that crawly sensation on my skin, but I literally get sick to my stomach. I believe that is a spiritual attack and I am very careful to stay away from such things.

A Facebook “friend” writes posts from time to time about church and on the surface, it’s very upbeat. On closer inspection, there seems to be something off. A little too “Stepford Wife” or something. Yesterday, there was a post with a rather surprising photo that maybe could have been read a couple of different ways. I went in to read the comments for an indication as to which direction this was leading. Someone posted a comment with a video. I had seen this video the day before with a comment saying someone from West Virginia had posted it.

I totally expected to open the video and hear something Biblical and I can guarantee you....it was NOT. It was vile and I won’t go into further detail and I certainly won’t share it here. I had that immediate creepy crawly dark sensation on my skin and ran to the bathroom to throw up. I was sick for over two hours. I climbed in bed and read my bible for a while. That always comforts me and reminds me, God always wins in the end.

I felt much better afterwards. The headache is all but gone, as is the creepy crawly feeling. The enemy vanquished back. The verse I read was Luke 12:22-26...where we are told God takes care of the birds and we are so much more important than any birds. When I sat down to write my post last night, the first thing I saw on Facebook was this picture of my cousin Mike, cradling a female cardinal in his hands. It had managed to get into their screened porch, so he gently picked it up to take it outside. We call him “The Bird Whisperer”. I loved this little God wink...a cardinal coming to remind me how important we are to God and we have no need to worry if we remain close to his side.

These are dark and trying times. I’ve been carefully winnowing my friends list on Facebook again. Not to weed out those whose political beliefs don’t mesh with mine. I welcome respectful repartee. But I don’t respect violence in any “way, shape, form or fashion”, as Governor Justice says.

Today is a brand new day and no matter what comes my way, I know...I can do all things with Christ who strengthens me.

???

“Jesus said to his disciples: I tell you not to worry about your life! Don't worry about having something to eat or wear. Life is more than food or clothing. Look at the crows! They don't plant or harvest, and they don't have storehouses or barns. But God takes care of them. You are much more important than any birds. Can worry make you live longer? If you don't have power over small things, why worry about everything else?”
Luke 12:22-26 CEV

Day 299: Salve to a Sore Place

Sat, 09 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

Whenever my grandma hit a rough patch, she’d look for something to ease her soul and afterwards, she’d say, “‘Deed, that’s like salve to a sore place.” It might be a chat with a friend on the front porch, or hugging her babies around the neck, or sitting in her window chair reading her Bible. Whatever came her way, it didn’t take her too long till she had herself lifted back up by the bootstraps and off she went a’runnin’ again.

Last year was rough, but even with the rough stuff, there were many moments of joy that lifted my spirits. Then this week hit, and I’m not going to lie...I’ve had a hard time. Being the person who’s always the cheerleader, I wasn’t sure how I was going to come back in here today and talk to y’all. I just didn’t know where to start or what to talk about. There’s just too, too much and Lord knows there’s enough of it “out there”. I didn’t want it “in here”. So...I went looking for that same energy my grandma gave me whenever I needed a little salve for my sore places.

I started out on YouTube listening to worship music then I turned back in time to old timey hymns. I clicked on a couple of black and white documentaries done in 1965 back in the mountains of North Carolina, visiting Appalachian musicians. One I really liked, but early in the movie, they’re following along with some old feller who was hunting groundhogs and I didn’t think y’all would appreciate that so I moved on.

Finally, I stumbled onto an interview of an old Appalachian woman named Ruby and I knew I had what I was looking for. I sat there watching, mesmerized by Ruby’s distinctive accent, talking about the way she was raised and the kind of life she’s lived and I was transported to all those many times my grandma and I sat on the front porch out at the farm...she telling me stories while we strung halfrunner beans to can.

Ruby looks off at her land and can’t set her eyes on anything she doesn’t own and she knows peace. She knows Jesus. She knows how to take care of herself. And she knows how to lift herself up by playing Amazing Grace on her guitar every night before bed. I sat on the edge of our bed, listening to her beautiful story as I brushed and braided my hair before bed, and realized...I wasn’t quite as scared as I was when I first sat down to write.

This big old world was here long before I got here. It’s going to be here long after I’m gone. We’ve lived through troubled times before...we’ll get through these as well. Good Lord willin’ and the creeks don’t rise. In the meantime, may this little slice of Appalachian goodness be salve to your sore places today.

You can see Ruby’s interview HERE.

“When his people pray for help, he listens and rescues them from their troubles. The Lord is there to rescue all who are discouraged and have given up hope.”
Psalms 34:17-18 CEV

Day 297: My Brain is Buzzing

Thu, 07 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

The sweetest couple moved in next door to me the year after Mr. Virgo died. They had a little boy and I became Nana Ginny to him. He knew I sometimes slept in my camper, so in the mornings, he would run over and knock on the camper door to say hello before his mama took him to day care.

Last week, his real life grandma was tragically killed in a traffic accident. I have met her several times...enough to know she was a very sweet woman. And I love her kids. It’s very sad.

Then, over the weekend, I learned my brother-in-law’s mom died unexpectedly in her sleep. They had shiva for her Tuesday evening over zoom. It’s been many, many years since I attended a Jewish service. I lived a Jewish life for 27 years and the memories flooded over me. I listened to my sweet B-I-L speak words about his mom and there were so many things I didn’t know about his childhood...sad things. It made me cry.

Later in the evening, I looked online for my friend’s mom’s obituary but when I opened the obit page...there was my sweet friend, Melissa. My heart broke. When Hubby #2 and I moved to the mountains of Colorado after residency, Melissa and her family were neighbors a few doors down. Daughter #1 used to babysit for her children. She was truly one of the sweetest, most genuinely kind women I’ve ever known. After I went through my divorce and opened my needlework shop, I used to meet her and several other gals for coffee every Thursday morning. I hadn’t seen her in a couple years and only learned she had brain cancer a few months ago. It was also Epiphany...twenty-one years sober, twenty-one years since my overdose, my “re-birth day”.

Then yesterday, all hell broke loose at the capital and we were plugged into that all day. By last night, my brain was buzzing on overload. I don’t even know how to begin talking about what I saw. I’ll process it for a bit then we’ll revisit. Sometimes things come at you so rapid fire, you don’t even have time to process before the next thing comes. I was just crushed by the time I went to bed. I’m hoping today is a bit more peaceful.

Prayers for all who were injured yesterday. And for the family and friends of those who were killed. And for our legislators who went through all that. And for all of us who sat and watched.

“Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save.”
Psalms 146:3 NIV

Day 295: When Surgery Sounds Exciting!

Tue, 05 Jan 2021 02:30:00 -0600

I’ve had seven surgeries in my life. When I go see a new doctor and they take a surgical history, I laugh and tell them it’s quicker to tell them what I have left than it is to tell them what all I’m missing. No one relishes having surgery. But, yesterday...I finally got the word I’ve been waiting for for the last three years. I had a phone consult with an endocrine surgeon yesterday and he said, after carefully reviewing all my studies, lab results and medical history, I need to have a tumor removed from my parathyroid gland.

This is NOT an easy diagnosis to get. The average family doctor doesn’t deal with a lot of parathyroid disease so it’s not really high on their radar. Only about 100,000 people are diagnosed with PHPT (Primary Hyperparathyroidism) every year in the United States. I have always said, if it can be gotten...I will get it. You have to be persistent and do your homework and press for the tests you need.

I am sure mine started about four years ago. I was fit and exercising every day. Remember the huge staircase I was climbing several times a week. This whole parathyroid journey started with a sharp pain in my foot that would not go away. Then it started migrating, my memory got bad, I had worsening reflux, I couldn’t sleep, and I was c-r-a-n-k-y! When the doctor started saying he had no idea what it was and kinda intimated it was all in my head, I just shut up about it. Then, quite by accident, a nurse practitioner who was checking my blood pressure asked me if there was anything going on in my life (other than my husband’s two recent strokes). I mentioned the pain, she ordered more specific blood tests, and nearly a year later...we have success.

That’s not bad, really. I am a member of a parathyroid support group on Facebook. Many of the people there had to got through several years with several doctors before they got a diagnosis. This leads me to think perhaps that 100,000 number of diagnoses is an underestimation. Now I wait to talk with the scheduler. I’m thinking I should wait till Mr. FixIt and I get our vaccines before we head to Florida for surgery. Just knowing someone believes me and I’m not going crazy is quite reassuring, so I can wait a while longer. This is one surgery I am really looking forward to because this is a definitive cure. You remove the tumor and you get better.

In the meantime, there’s plenty to do around here. We’re going to get back to work on the bathroom renovation and get things fixed up around here. Mr. FixIt’s strokes slowed us down tremendously last year. It’s time to catch up now that he’s doing so much better.

“...I pray all goes well for you. I hope you are as strong in body, as I know you are in spirit.”
3 John 1:2 CEV

Day 289: Let Your Light Shine Brighter

Wed, 30 Dec 2020 02:30:00 -0600

My grandma had all kinds of sayings that were descriptive and puzzling and funny and weird. Some were long handed down colloquialisms. Some were just those inside jokes that develop within the family and you’re surprised no one else has heard them...they’re just so accurate. One saying she used a lot...it was an Appalachian take on Karma. If you did something you might not ought to have done, or if you made a simple mistake that came back to bite you in the butt later, Grandma would exclaim... “Well, your chickens are just coming home to roost.” Meaning...you’re going to have to pay for that one.

Covid. You would be hard pressed at this point to find someone who doesn’t know someone in their circle who has had it. I hear more and more, every week. I can’t count anymore how many people I know who have had it or knows someone who has. I find it just as concerning today as I did when this first started spreading like wildfire in March. My only fear is that someone I know and love will get it and die. Thank God, the ones I know personally have been among the fortunates who just get sick. Science is still trying to figure out why some feel nothing much more than a bad cold while others seem a little sick one day and die the next.

It’s a crazy disease. And seriously, one that should never, ever have gotten out of hand like this in the United States of America. I’m not going to go on a rant over this here, but I have choice words when I’m watching the news with Mr. FixIt...trust me.

The other day, Daughter #2 called in a panic. They have a good friend who totaled his car a couple of weeks ago and they helped him out. His bubble is small, like theirs, although he does work in assisted living. His patient population had remained untouched by Covid until the week of his accident. And that is when my daughter went to pick him up from the emergency room after his car accident and let him stay with them for a couple of days to make sure he was ok.

Within a few days, he tested positive for Covid. And, three days later, my daughter and her wife began having symptoms. They went right away and got tested, however, tests can often be negative when taken too early in the course of the illness. They haven’t had another test yet, but the circumstances wouldn’t be any different for them if they had. They are isolated and will schedule a repeat test sometime this week.

I am also thanking God they aren’t any sicker than they are. Right now, it’s mostly the fatigue that’s hitting them, and my daughter says it really doesn’t feel much worse than a really bad cold. Thankfully, she has Type O blood...they say those with that blood type seem to get a less severe case. Which is good because she also has bad asthma.

They were just trying to do something kind to help their friend out when he crashed his car. They thought they were safe with all the precautions and their small social bubbles. But, it just goes to show you, this disease is nothing to trifle with. We cannot afford to let our collective guard down...which leads me to my main gripe.

Sitting in my living room, not seeing my family since March...not seeing my Colorado family since August 2019...not eating in a restaurant since February, not camping, not socializing outside of direct family who also socially isolate and then only visiting outside and distanced. Making all these sacrifices and then watching all those people going through the airports and mingling at the malls, knowing...KNOWING full well what’s going to come in two weeks...it makes me so mad I could spit nails! I worked in medicine for forty-two years. I was married to an internist for twenty-one of those. I know how hard those on the front lines work when there ISN’T a pandemic raging.

All it would have taken was a warning in January...something deadly is coming. Prepare yourselves. These are the steps you’re going to need to take. Do these things so we can hunker down and get through it and get back to normal as soon as possible. New Zealand did it. Other countries did it.

This isn’t our Grandfather’s country anymore. What happened to the spirit of a people who rallied around the war effort and sacrificed for others? Those who say “You can’t stop living your life!” Tell that to the 330,000+ families who have lost their beloveds. It just boggles my mind that there are STILL people out there who think this is all a hoax or it’s overblown or it’s just a political ploy to try to control the masses. How many body bags does it take to convince them this is real and the medical community is about to crack?

Ok...ok...I got on my soapbox after all. I can’t help it. It’s come after MY baby now! And this mama is pissed!!!

IT’S NOT FOREVER...IT’S JUST FOR NOW!!!

STAY HOME

WATCH YOUR DISTANCE

WEAR A MASK

WASH YOUR HANDS

And, please pray my baby and her wife get better quickly with no complications or lasting side effects.

PLEASE

When times are dark....let your light shine brighter!

Photo Credit: Steve Derrick - https://www.timesunion.com/entertainment/article/Local-artist-unmasks-soul-of-front-line-workers-15513007.php

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.”
Philippians 2:3-4 NIV

Day 271: A Day in Chemical Valley

Thu, 10 Dec 2020 02:30:00 -0600

I grew up five blocks from the Ohio River. The soundtrack of my life was the constant background noise of heavily laden trains and tugboats pushing barges up and down the river. Their cargo varied from coal to sand and gravel to gasoline and chemicals. Honestly, you never knew what dangers lurked just a few blocks away when you lay sleeping in your bed on those hot summer nights. The toots of the barges signaling the locks...the locks signaling back when it was ok to move forward.

Union Carbide, Bayer, Shell, Corning, Marbon, Viscose, DuPont, Johns Manville...all were as familiar to us as Wonder Bread and Borden’s. We didn’t think anything of it. These chemical, plastics, glass, and petroleum plants were our bread and butter. Like the coal fields of southern West Virginia and the steel mills up north, big chemical plants ruled the Mid-Ohio Valley. If our parents didn’t work there, we knew someone who did.

Occasionally there would be an accident or a fire or a chemical spill at one of the local plants. But, before the EPA taught us the dangers of some of the things in our very backyards, we really never gave it too much thought. It was part and parcel of life here. I remember in grade school when the father of one of my classmates was killed at DuPont. It struck us on many levels. First, it taught us that parents can die. Second, it meant some jobs were dangerous. And, it gave us our first taste of death.

If you saw the documentary Dark Waters, you get an idea of the reckoning between big polluters and the little people who worked for them. DuPont worked with a chemical called C8 that leaked into the ground water all around where I grew up and caused cancers, deformed fetuses, and deaths. The people eventually won a settlement, but money is never enough to rectify a situation like that. Extremely expensive filtration systems have been installed to allow the drinking water from the aquifer below us to be potable because...C8 is a “forever chemical”. It will never break down and is here to stay.

They don’t use C8 anymore. One of my friends spent his entire career working for DuPont...the last several years in a lab trying to come up with a C8 substitute but they were still not successful when he retired. DuPont sold out to a French company called Chemours who subsequently sublease their facilities to other companies manufacturing any number of products.

Tuesday night at 10:00, when people were settling down to watch a little TV before bed, a loud explosion rocked the small communities surrounding the Chemours plant in Belle, West Virginia just south of Charleston...about a hundred miles from the Ponderosa. Amazingly, only four people were injured...one of whom died yesterday at an area hospital. A young man in his 30’s with a family won’t be home for Christmas...or any other holiday. Things are a lot cleaner now and much safer, but still...accidents happen. There’s still a much higher level of cancer here than most places.

West Virginia is a beautiful state. But the wealthy robber barons have continually raped my home state of her natural resources and left her permanently scarred and polluted. The price of progress? Or the “taking advantage” of simple Appalachians trying to get by the best they can? We were resource rich and education poor and it’s hard to complain when “The Man” was putting the bread in your children’s bellies.

I’ll never forget the time I flew into the Charleston Airport one summer. We were approaching from the south...not the way I commonly arrived. I looked out the window of the plane and the tops of the mountains...MY MOUNTAINS...were just...GONE! They were shaved off the top in a new, quicker, cheaper method of strip mining. The landscape has been permanently altered. Farmland that’s been handed down from generation to generation has wide, treeless paths cut through virgin timber to allow gas and oil pipelines to pass through. It breaks my heart and makes me sick.

All in the name of fossil fuels. Large, gas-guzzling SUV’s. Mr. FixIt and I contribute with our two pickup trucks so I can’t even complain. I pray for a cleaner world and for some way for my fellow Mountaineers to make a living once the switch is made. We have to do something more than pray. We have to change. And change doesn’t come easy, so I’ve found.

““ ‘Do not pollute the land where you are. Bloodshed pollutes the land, and atonement cannot be made for the land on which blood has been shed, except by the blood of the one who shed it. Do not defile the land where you live and where I dwell, for I, the Lord, dwell among the Israelites.’ ””
Numbers 35:33-34 NIV

Day 266: Another Sad Goodbye

Sat, 05 Dec 2020 02:30:00 -0600

When Daughter #1 married in the summer of 1995, I had no idea what an integral part her new family would play in my life. Just five years after we met, these lovely people helped me through a very painful divorce and lifted me up from the fall. Then, years later when Mr. Virgo passed, they took me into their home and loved on me till I could stand up again. They nursed me when I was sick. They welcomed me with my campers and played host to countless “camping trips” in their driveway. They love my daughter the way I love their son. We are as close to being related as we can be without actually sharing DNA.

We have always said, Sue & Ben live at the epicenter of the universe. Way early on, I felt a twinge of jealousy about that because I wanted MY house to be the center. It wasn’t long till I understood why theirs was and I’ve spent many a long, leisurely breakfast at their table...discussing the topics of the day. You always learn something sitting there over coffee. Ben underlines particularly interesting points from the articles in the morning paper and enjoys the intellectual discussions that ensue when he shares them.

When Sue was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, I asked what I could do from here to help her.

“Just chat with me every night. Tell me funny stories. I love your stories...they give me something to think about.”

We have been chatting every single night since and I have to say, that has been one of the deepest experiences I’ve ever had. To watch her strength, courage, and determination has been admirable.

One of the bonus features of my close relationship with Ben & Sue has been Grandma Lois. Born in the northeast corner of Colorado, Grandma was raised to be a strong woman, a hard worker, and she could do anything she set her mind to. I could go through the details of her accomplishments listed in her beautiful obituary, but I’d rather relate what she meant to me personally.

For many years, I only got to see Grandma Lois when she came to Denver to see the kids. But, finally she got to the age where she needed to live closer where someone could be there should she need a little extra support. She bought a small house around the corner from Ben & Sue. That’s when I got to spend more time with her. You never went to her house without being treated to a fresh batch of cookies and a cup of coffee. I often walked over to see her when I was visiting Colorado.

Grandma Lois was widowed in 1996. She was so supportive of me when Mr. Virgo died. We had long talks and she shared her love freely, helping me through a difficult time with tender understanding while, still being the strong farm woman, kicking me in the butt when I needed it. Mr. FixIt and I went to her 90th Birthday Party last summer. She loved him and thought I’d found a real gem. Whenever we spoke on the phone, she asked about him. The other day, we were watching TV when my phone rang. I looked down and said, “It’s Grandma Lois!” Mr. FixIt lit up. This was an unexpected treat!

“Hello, Lois! How are you???” I smiled into the camera.

“Oh! It’s YOU!” she said with surprise. “I never know who I’m going to get with this thing. I just punch the buttons and hope for the best!” Grandma said with a deprecating laugh.

We spoke for a good half hour, sharing stories about the kids. She wanted to know all about our garden and the canning and what we had been up to. I hated for the conversation to end. You know, in the way you hate them to end because you don’t know when...or IF...you’ll get the chance for another one. We always ended our conversations with professions of love for one another, which is the way it should be when you love someone.

As it turns out, that was the last conversation I got to have with Grandma Lois. She recently came down with bilateral non-Covid pneumonia at the nursing home where she’s lived the last year. She passed in her sleep on December 1st at 5:00am. She was 91.

“Little”, my younger granddaughter said this about her great grandmother. “Most people get to the Pearly Gates, knock on the door, and they’re let in. Not Grandma Lois! She rings the doorbell and runs!” I do believe she is right. But this time, Grandma was either too tired to run or she slipped on the step and fell.

I will always be grateful to have known her and loved her...and to have been loved right back. We truly were family...and friends. I am so grateful to Sue for sharing her mom with me. She knew how much I missed my own mom. Grandma Lois gave us all many gifts...not the least was modeling her deep strength and solid faith to the rest of us. I will miss you greatly, dear one...and I have comfort knowing you no longer suffer. I’ll see you on the other side.

“You will be afraid to climb up a hill or walk down a road. Your hair will turn as white as almond blossoms. You will feel lifeless and drag along like an old grasshopper. We each go to our eternal home, and the streets here are filled with those who mourn. The silver cord snaps, the golden bowl breaks; the water pitcher is smashed, and the pulley at the well is shattered. So our bodies return to the earth, and the life-giving breath returns to God.”
Ecclesiastes 12:5-7 CEV

Day 253: Can You Say...Quarantine?

Sun, 22 Nov 2020 02:30:00 -0600

I woke up yesterday with a stuffy head. I didn’t think I felt too bad till I attempted to get out of bed. Then I felt as though I perhaps had been in a tractor pull...sans tractor. As the morning wore on, the cough and the sneezing started. I just didn’t feel good. I went on the DHS website and took their assessment questionnaire and it advised I go in for testing. My initial thought was, “Yeah...I’ll see how I feel tomorrow.” Then Daughter #1 happened to send a video chat request. After hearing my story, she strongly suggested I go get tested.

Now, remember...I’m out at the farm. I can’t go near Mr. FixIt. So I called the nearest clinic and were told they do Covid testing. The gal said to “come to the tent and call this number. I’ll take your info and send someone out to do the swab.” It was about a twenty minute drive out to this little tiny rural hospital/clinic. I pulled out the envelope with the phone number, opened my phone screen and...zero cell service. I don’t know what they can get there...but it’s not Verizon. And, there was no tent. I drove around the buildings until I finally found three parking spots with “Covid Testing Parking” on a piece of printer paper taped to a pole.

I gloved and masked up and timidly went in the front foyer of the emergency department. The lady came and asked what I needed. She sent me back out to the truck, and came out about five minutes later with the test kit. This swab only went in about a half inch or so. It wasn’t the foot long swab that goes a full 4-5 inches up your nose. I don’t mind that, except I do want what is most reliable. She sent me home with directions to isolate till I get the results in three days when they’ll call me.

Now I’m doing what I can to feel better. Zinc and Vitamin C for immune boosters, anti-inflammatory for pain and fever reduction, fluids and rest. I have a stack of magazines and my electronics and my little mini-fridge of food. I was really looking forward to getting back home to see my sweetheart. I know I love a break and a little R&R, but now I’m missing my “boyfriend”.

It’s not all bad, though. I have another stretch of time to love on this house. The same house my grandma adored. It was the Taj Mahal to her. I look around at this old bedroom. The holes in the plaster where nails hung pictures till enough of the plaster was lost and the nail no longer held. I try to remember what was hung in each spot. A calendar from the feed store, perhaps. Or, more likely, a school picture of one of us kids.

Grandma was what we called “picture poor”. She might not have had a whole lot, but that woman always had film in her camera and every trip to the farm involved pictures. We would stop and get her pictures for her from the store and take them to the farm with a sack of groceries. After lunch, we all gathered around to look at grandma’s pictures. No one said a word about her photography. She had a habit of standing so far away from her subjects, you had no idea who they were. But, they were always standing in front of some flowers. Grandma loved her posies.

Resting here in her bed, I listen for her voice coming back down the halls of my memory. Her laugh. Her sayings. Her quiet judgment. Her gentle love. Her strong hand that she didn’t mind swatting your backside with when you acted a fool. I see her on a sunny day with freshly washed hair glistening with streaks of silver against the dark hair of her youth that refused to leave entirely. She washed her hair in a bucket of rainwater heated on the stove. She rinsed it with cool rainwater she dipped from the barrel at the corner of the house. She kept an old enamel saucepan hanging on a nail precisely for that purpose.

When my children were very small, she would get the step stool for them. They stood on the stool and combed her long hair over and over till it dried. Then she would whip it around and around with a few swift turns and pin it into a bun. I smile at that thought because I’ve taken to wearing my own silver-streaked hair in a bun, too. One of these days, when Covid is over and we are free to do as we will, I will have a family picnic here at the farm to celebrate. And, maybe my own little three-year-old great granddaughter will stand on that very same stool and comb MY hair.

The circle of life.

“Children are a blessing and a gift from the Lord. Having a lot of children to take care of you in your old age is like a warrior with a lot of arrows.”
Psalms 127:3-4 CEV

Day 252: Praying, Praying, Praying

Sat, 21 Nov 2020 02:30:00 -0600

When I left the house Wednesday morning, I headed to the clinic to drop off a specimen then headed out to the farm for my R&R. I had to sit in the clinic for an hour in the main waiting room. People were spaced apart and wearing masks. But, still...I was inside in a medical clinic...for an hour. I wasn’t really happy about it. All I wanted to do was drop off the specimen and leave. But, rules is rules, right?

I realized as I headed to the farm...I totally forgot to pack a cooler with some food. I stopped at McDonald’s and got some breakfast sandwiches, and at the Dollar General on the two-lane on the way to my destination. I was only planning to stay two nights, so that was plenty. I had boatloads of laundry to do and was finishing up the last of it yesterday morning, when my nose started dripping. My throat felt scratchy. I was coughing a little.

Uh-oh.

I didn’t like the sound (or feel) of that. If I picked up something in that waiting room or Dollar General or McDonald’s drive-thru, I sure as the dickens didn’t want to take anything home to my sweetheart. I called him, and thankfully...he feels just fine. I told him how I was feeling and that I thought I’d better just stay put till I make sure it isn’t anything to be concerned about. I hope it’s just allergies from this dusty old farmhouse.

There is a small service station and convenience store about seven miles from the farm. I wore two masks and gloves and didn’t come anywhere near anyone when I got there. I grabbed some food really quickly and was in and out of there in a whipstitch and headed back to the farm. The laundry is done and hanging in the bathroom, air drying the knits. I have a stack of magazines and my iPad and phone. I have plenty of food to last a little while. I’m sure it’s nothing and I’ll be heading home to Mr. FixIt soon.

But, in the meantime...we wait.

“From the church leader. To my dear friend Gaius. I love you because we follow the truth, dear friend, and I pray all goes well for you. I hope you are as strong in body, as I know you are in spirit.”
3 John 1:1-2 CEV

DAY 249: Biting My Tongue

Wed, 18 Nov 2020 02:30:00 -0600

I don’t always practice what I preach. I called out someone on my page yesterday for saying something mean to one of my friends that holds a different political belief than me. Then, in the same post, I turn right around and said something snarky to someone about their comment on my own position. Why do I do that? Why do I engage? I don’t know...I just can’t seem to help it when I feel strongly about something. Mama always said my mouth would get me in trouble.

I apologized. Again. I’m sure I’ll do it. Again.

*sigh*

Let’s look at the bigger picture. It’s been a heck of a year. Well, in actuality, it’s been a heck of a decade, but...you know. How far back do you want to go? There’s a lot going on right now...it’s hard balancing all the mental stress and strain. What are we facing next? Every. Single. Day. It’s something else...worse than the last.

When the comments were flying, Mr. FixIt and I were in the middle of trying to fix the light over the kitchen sink. We were having an....ummmmm....disagreement about how to best do the job. In the end, we ended up deciding to put a new fixture in. And, wouldn’t you know...he had one out in the building...our own personal hardware store! It used to bug me that we have all this “junk”, but he has pulled my butt out of the fire on more than one occasion with his stash out there.

So, the comment came in and I snapped back and that, by my own standards, was not productive. I’ll just try to do better. Always try to do better.

It’s hard to believe a week from today is Thanksgiving. I know we are not alone feeling the sting of being separated from family for the holidays. We have a huge family between the two of us and we are used to having a house full of loved ones. This year, we’ll have to settle for phone calls and Zoom. It breaks my heart but, I also know it is our duty to do whatever it takes to keep everyone safe, including ourselves. Maintaining our health is like money in the bank. Seriously...it’s our investment for our future. It sure doesn’t make it any easier when you watch commercials showing fun family gatherings with that big golden turkey in the middle of the table.

As the sun set over the far hill from our house, and the clouds turned a deep salmon pink, I gave myself a break for being human. I didn’t hit it out of the park yesterday, but hopefully there are other days to keep trying.

Always keep trying.

“Watching what you say can save you a lot of trouble.”
Proverbs 21:23 CEV

Day 248: Covid...Worse Than Glitter

Tue, 17 Nov 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Are you crafty? Have you ever worked with glitter? If you have, then you know you cannot work with glitter indoors without finding it in every crevice of your home...for the rest of eternity. It is simply impossible to get rid of.

Remember those body washes and facial scrubbers with those little tiny micro beads in them? Entire city water systems were shut down in an attempt to remove the sediment left behind that consisted of...tiny micro beads.

Ever try to eat a meal in a house full of pets without finding hair in your food? Ever have a coffee filter collapse in the pot and end up with grounds floating in your cup and sediment in the bottom? Ever go to the beach and have sand end up in places where you definitely wouldn’t put an emery board?

All those things are plenty big enough to see with the naked eye and you still can’t avoid them.

What if you could SEE the Covid-19 virus???

What if you walked into a shop or restaurant and these big orbs were floating around...hovering over people...spewing out of their mouths when they laughed? What if you went into church and the choir and the people sitting beside you and behind you started singing and clouds of spiky balls of virus came at you and clung to your hair and your clothes and your skin? What if, when you inhaled to sing the next refrain, those sticky spiky balls drew into your mouth and nose and lodged in the tiny little air sacs in your lungs?

And, what if...after church or after being at the store...you stopped to check on your elderly neighbor or your niece with the new baby and you snuggled in for a nice hug and a kiss on the cheek? Or maybe you went to your book club or your grandkid’s swim meet?

What if there was something so simple you could do to keep these spiky basketballs from sticking in your lungs or the lungs of those you love? Until there’s some way of knowing who will get really sick and who will just feel kinda puny, there’s no way of knowing the effect that visit may have.

There are an awful lot of people who think Covid is nothing...it’s overblown...we’re turning a corner. Well, we may be “turning a corner” but it’s not to any street we want to go down...of that I am certain. The numbers are rising exponentially.

A friend shared a post with me yesterday. The person posting is an ICU nurse. He’s been working long, hard days. He says it is so horrifying to hear someone screaming because they can’t catch their breath. He says there are many....far TOO many who scream and say, “It can’t be Covid! Covid isn’t real! There has to be something wrong with me and you aren’t finding it!!! You have to find out what’s really wrong with me!” He says the screaming only stops when they get intubated.

It isn’t politics.

Let me say that again.

Covid isn’t political.

It’s a virus.

It is real.

It can be deadly...like Russian roulette.

This is science.

Thanksgiving is coming fast. We have elected to not gather at our house this year. We hate that...we really do. But we have family members with underlying medical conditions. And I will do everything in my power to keep my family safe and healthy.

Please....please....please....do everything you can to help reel this pandemic in and gain some sort of control. The vaccines are coming, but in the meantime, we are forced indoors because of the weather. That close contact is the same as using a leaf blower on a pile of glitter...it’s going to contaminate everything and everybody.

I know you’re tired of this. I know you want this to be over with. I know you want everything to get back to normal. So do I.

Let’s be good Americans! Let’s band together and kick Covid to the curb! Let’s be patriots and look out for each other!!! Let’s take some pride in ourselves and be the leaders we are meant to be! Let’s be encouragers! Let’s not scold the non-maskers. Let’s encourage them. Let’s thank those who are wearing masks so they know they are appreciated. And do it in front of non-maskers. Keep some extra masks in a ziplock baggie to offer to those who may not have one.

Let’s get this done so we can put this horrible event behind us and bring as many people through it as we can.

We know what to do!!!

We can do this, America!

“This is why you must encourage and help each other, just as you are already doing.”
1 Thessalonians 5:11 CEV

Day 244: Surprises...Bad & Good

Fri, 13 Nov 2020 02:30:00 -0600

One of my bonus granddaughters lost her beloved Lulu yesterday when she got hit by a car. Fur babies are such a part of our hearts and as much a member of the family as their little two legged siblings. It broke my heart to hear her tears over the phone as she is such a strong young woman. I know her heart will heal with time, but Lulu will always be a part of her heart.

We learned of her loss on our way home from Lowe’s. Earlier in the day, I tried to heat up something in the microwave and...nothing. The turntable worked, as did the light and the fan, but no heating. Mr. FixIt fiddled around with it for a while to no avail. Fortunately, that “happy hoarder” had a small microwave out in the building and we set it up on the kitchen counter to make do for the time being.

Isn’t it amazing how you become so reliant on modern conveniences? I use a small 4-cup Mr. Coffee coffeemaker as Mr. FixIt drinks tea. I use a 16oz. Tervis insulated cup for my coffee and by the time I’ve finished the first one, the coffeemaker has timed out and turned itself off. If I decide to have the other half of that pot, I have to put my sweetener and Half & Half in it with the lukewarm coffee and pop it in the microwave. Even knowing full well the microwave was not working, I still found myself automatically opening the door to warm up that second cup. We are such creatures of habit.

So, off to Lowe’s we went. We have a black stove and they didn’t have a black microwave in stock. Some appliance manufacturers have finished producing product for the year and the one we really wanted wouldn’t be in till March of next year! We settled on a Samsung that’s just as good and will be in on December 5th...allegedly. We’ll see. Large appliances are not easy to find these days. Just ask for anyone looking for a freezer!

My biggest news of the day yesterday came in the form of a video conference with an endocrinologist in Texas. I’ve been trying to get answers to a medical issue I’ve been having for the last three years. It started with a sharp, stabbing pain between my second and third toe on my left foot. Then, the pain moved some there else, only to migrate on to a different spot within a few days. Mostly my feet and legs, arms and hands. The pain has caused me to stop exercising like I was, and consequently, my weight has ballooned. Other weird symptoms like insomnia, hair loss, exhaustion, brain fog, difficulty concentrating & focusing, crabby mood, headaches...just a general “I don’t feel good but I don’t know how to explain it”. Honestly, you feel like you’re developing dementia. My calcium was high, my Vitamin D was low, and my PTH (parathyroid hormone) was three times normal.

Most doctors don’t have a lot of experience with parathyroid disease. I’ve read, the average time it takes to diagnose it is three years and ten doctors. Well, it’s been three years and four doctors and I finally have a referral to a surgeon. I’m going to the top...the Norman Parathyroid Center in Tampa. They are the world’s experts in the parathyroid. As a matter of fact...that’s all they do. If you have to have a parathyroid tumor removed, you want a surgeon who does a high volume of cases. For instance, the endocrine surgeons at WVU do an average of 30 parathyroidectomies in a year. The Norman Parathyroid Center does nearly that many in two days.

I know this may be TMI, but if you have these symptoms and a high calcium, go to parathyroid.com and read about this disease. A friend of mine just had the surgery a couple of weeks ago and she said within hours, the pain she has been dealing with for YEARS was just...gone. She is sleeping better, she isn’t cranky, she wakes up in the morning ready to go. It’s amazing. I’m not sure if I will qualify for surgery till I get the work up from the Norman Center, but I am so incredibly encouraged that we are on the right path now. It feels amazing when a doctor actually hears you and listens. Thank you, God!

“If medicine and doctors may be found in Gilead, why aren't my people healed?”
Jeremiah 8:22 CEV

Day 226: Connecting Through Technology

Sun, 25 Oct 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I was busy in the kitchen making a couple of loaves of sourdough bread and fixing pork chops for supper when Daughter #1 shot me a quick text. She told me Big was just about to participate in a swim meet and if I went to this FB page, I could watch it live. I was thrilled! My son-in-law’s mom and I watched her swim in all three events. It’s not the same as being there, but being included and getting to see her swim was so fun! I dished up our plates because the food was ready and wasn’t going to keep well in the oven. I handed Mr. FixIt his and I sat at the bar in the kitchen and watched and cheered my big girl on!

Later in the evening, I joined a zoom concert my good friend and financial advisor, Danielle Howard, put together featuring Jackson Emmer. You can find his music on YouTube and iTunes and check out his website, as well. He has a really interesting voice. He says he kind of shredded his vocal cords with all his years singing at high altitude and it’s left this with the rasp that actually sounds harmonic. If you didn’t watch him, you’d thing there was someone else harmonizing with him. It was really interesting and I thoroughly enjoyed the show. You can check him out HERE.

What a treat it was to be connected with the outside world in such a way. While technology can often be a curse, the fact that we can work remotely and share dinner with our family and friends listen to a concert with folks spread out over the entire country...well, that’s just a marvel is what it is. I used to think how amazing it was all the things that were invented and developed in my grandma’s lifetime. And now? Now, here I am...not only the grandma, but the GREAT grandma, too. I tell them we didn’t get our first TV till I was 8 or 9 years old...that I watched the first satellite launch and saw it cross the night sky...that I had the first personal calculator ever produced and it cost over $400...that our first cell phone was in a small suitcase and had the regular handset and curly cord of a phone, and that was in 1990! I tell them we didn’t get a home computer till their mom was in middle school. We had dial up and flip phones.

The upside of all this technology is connection, productivity and information. The downside is the cacophony of busyness and noise, the scramble for our attention, the constant barrage of politics and rancor and discord. I have to wonder...what would this Covid Crisis and Election Season be like if we didn’t have the technology we have now? What if it was just Walter Cronkite telling us there was a bad disease and it’s going to be hard, but here’s what we have to do get through it? I have to think this would be a whole different scenario. Maybe there would be less discord, but there would be a lot more isolation and loneliness.

Progress. Change. You know what they say...the only thing you can count on is change. And, Lord...this has certainly been a season of change. I think...I hope...I hope we’re going to learn a lot from this period of time and we’ll be the better for it down the road. I read something the other day by an American pastor and author. He was talking about how BIG God is. We sometimes make the things of the world seem like that are bigger than God. But, that does a disservice to God. Because when you make the things of the world large, you make God small. That’s not to say there aren’t pressing matters of great importance facing us right now. There are. But God is greater than all of this and He wins. God always wins.

❤️

“Where could I go to escape from your Spirit or from your sight? If I were to climb up to the highest heavens, you would be there. If I were to dig down to the world of the dead you would also be there. Suppose I had wings like the dawning day and flew across the ocean. Even then your powerful arm would guide and protect me. Or suppose I said, “I'll hide in the dark until night comes to cover me over.” But you see in the dark because daylight and dark are all the same to you.”
Psalms 139:7-12 CEV

Day 216: Gone Fishin’ With The Boys

Thu, 15 Oct 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Of all things, the check engine light came on in my truck on Tuesday evening. We had to go find an auto parts store yesterday that could run a computer diagnostic test on it. There were three codes...all regarding misfiring in the cylinders. My guess is we need new spark plugs, a tune up, or we had a batch of bad gas. The light went off after she checked...which is what it’s supposed to do. And, it hasn’t come back on. We’ll keep an eye on it and hopefully, we won’t have anymore problems and I can get it checked out at home.

I will have to say, there are a boatload more people here than we imagined there would be. So many people are working remotely now and if you can work from home, you can work from the beach just as easily. Gone are the days of long stretches of empty sand and sparsely attended restaurants, I’m afraid. On the plus side, the merchants are reaping an extended profit season and that’s really good for them.

I visited my favorite knitting shop...The Knitting Addiction In Kitty Hawk. I was happy to see the owner doing well. I was so tempted to buy a nice project to work on, but I still have so much yarn left from my last trips to the beach, I made myself stick to something small. I found it in the cutest kits for Christmas ornaments. That kills two birds with one stone. We always buy a special ornament when we are on vacation. This way, we’ll still get our ornament, and it will be even more special because I’ll be making it.

The kids went off to do their own thing yesterday so Mr. FixIt and I had all day to ourselves. We had so much fun! We packed up a picnic basket and the cooler, put it in the wagon, and headed to the beach...fishing gear in hand. Fortunately, the condo complex has built an enormous new ramp that goes up and over the dunes so carting gear out and back isn’t quite the chore it used to be. That being said, our foldable wagon does not have wide wheels for the sand. Once we got out on the beach, it was quite the chore dragging it to a socially distanced spot where we felt comfortable.

We spent all afternoon on the beach. There was a steady breeze coming in off the ocean and I was just a little too cool. I ended up turning my chair to face the sun instead of the waves, wrapped a towel around my shoulders and read all afternoon. Now, THAT was exactly where I wanted to be...with my sweetheart, on the beach. I have been thrilled to see him perk up this week. He’s so much more like the old Mr. FixIt we all know and love. He has missed the beach so much. It’s in his blood and just being here has done wonders for him.

He and his son are meeting a friend today and going deep sea fishing on a charter. There will only be the three guys and two crewmen. We’ve been so worried about his balance since the stroke, and I was concerned about him being on the boat. But...it’s his son. It’s his life. It’s really overall safe and they’ll keep socially distanced. He’ll sit the majority of the time anyway. And...he needs this.

Will I worry? Maybe I worried a little last night when he decided to go, but then I just handed him over to God. I know He’ll take good care of him. I’ll have a chat with my stepson...I know he’ll take extra special care of his dad, too. I cannot watch him 24/7/365. It’s part of the give and take of marriage. It’s part of me letting go and stop trying to control any possible outcome. It comes from prior loss...I know that. He still needs to have a normal life and he’s really doing much better. So, off he goes fishing with the boys and the girls are having a beach day.

God, please let him catch a big fish!

❤️

“Parents, don't be hard on your children. Raise them properly. Teach them and instruct them about the Lord.”
Ephesians 6:4 CEV

Day 214: Practicing Saying “No, Thank You” and “Yes, Please”

Tue, 13 Oct 2020 01:30:00 -0600

It never fails. I can just about bank on the fact that one of the first days after my arrival in a new place, I’m going to be sick. I have one of those “issues” that you cannot see, but it greatly affects my ability to switch to different locales. I have IBS...Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I was diagnosed when I was a teenager. It waxes and wanes, and if there is the least bit of anxiety involved in the mix, it amps the situation beyond mere discomfort. It’s stirred up by eating different foods than I am used to and the stress of travel.

Well, that was yesterday. I was especially worried because my stepson and his family are here with us and the last thing I wanted to do was fink out on them. I also know, feeling guilty adds to the whole situation. I needn’t have worried. They love me...they understand...and they are pretty self-sufficient travelers. I sent Mr. FixIt along with them to the beach to fish all afternoon and I stayed at the condo and relaxed. That did more for me than a day in the heat and humidity would have. And, I practiced saying no. That has never been an easy thing for me to do, but I’m getting better at it when I need to.

When the family came home, we went to see the sunset, we came back to the condo and fixed supper together and sat out on the big deck, then the guys and I walked down to the beach to see the ghost crabs skittering across the sand. The temperature was perfect...73 with the marine layer rolling in. While it wasn’t exactly what I would have envisioned for my day, it was really fine and ended well.

Today is our second wedding anniversary! My, that time has flown by and so much has happened! Happy Anniversary, Mr. FixIt!!!

❤️

“He is the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them— he remains faithful forever.”
Psalms 146:6 NIV

Day 204: 2020....Seriously, Would Someone Just Yell BINGO & Get This Year Over With!!!

Sat, 03 Oct 2020 01:30:00 -0600

In times of great stress, gallows humor comes into play as a way to cope. When Hubby #2 was in medical school, the “jokes” and “funny” one-liners came rapid fire on the Friday nights when his fellow students came to our house. They would sit on the stoop and drink a beer and talk trash. They had to. If not, they never would have survived the brutality they were faced with on a daily basis. I remember listening with frank shock, wondering how on earth these men and women were ever going to become compassionate physicians.

Some didn’t survive...at least not in any real functional way. Others barely made it through, forever broken by a system that systematically took every bit of tenderness and goodness from them creating angry cynics...old before their time. Still, most made it through relatively unscathed because they saw their days as a series dumpster fires they needed to put out...one by one.

If 2020 hasn’t been a classic dumpster fire of epic medical school proportions, I will turn in my secret Med School Wife Decoder Ring and go home. It seems like every single day we are challenged with something bigger, something badder, something scarier than the day before. It’s giving people PTSD...unless of course, you were gifted with that particular monster through some other equally awful life experience. Then it’s just compounded.

The thing we have to remember is...God can take the very worst dumpster fires, turn them around, and use them for good. For you and for me and for any other person on the street. When we look at the collective ****show this year has been, it’s really difficult to see how anything good can come from this. It’s there, though. You just have to look to see it.

This is an uncertain time...an unsettled time. Pray for peace. Pray for our country and our President and First Lady. I may not agree with his politics, but this is not the time for bashing. This is the time for praying the evil out of this world. And praying for healing.

So, whenever I see that sense of renewed cooperation, I will put a little fuel on that fire. A little encouragement. A little “atta boy”. A little gratitude. I’ll blow on it with good words, nurturing a flame from the smallest embers until a roaring bonfire takes hold.

Yes...God can do miraculous things with dumpster fires. Just you wait and see.

❤️

“You let people ride over our heads; we went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance.”
Psalms 66:12 NIV

Day 203: Where Do I Find...Feel Good Friday?

Fri, 02 Oct 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Lord, have Mercy...these are hard times if we look at all we are shown. I’ve lost friends this year...some to death...some to politics. My list dwindles as people peel away from me for whatever reason. I had a friend ask the other night if we should unfriend till next year. I told her I am comfortable with civil discourse but if it made her more comfortable, she needed to do what was best for her. We decided to stay connected and work our way through the next few months. That being said, there are some friends I have had to put in “time out” by snoozing them for thirty days. When those thirty days are up, I can revisit and evaluate. I don’t unfriend people just because we have a difference of opinion. I DO unfriend people if they attack, are verbally abusive, or go beyond my personal boundaries of what I am willing to put up with.

So...I snoozed the loudest, angriest, ugliest posts. Then...by mid week, my FB feed sounded like crickets. It’s been so much more peaceful and it left me the space to fill with hope and love. Hate doesn’t kill hate...only love does. My dear friend Diane shares the craziest, sometimes bawdiest memes and funnies and she helps keep me sane. She sometimes has a crusty exterior, but inside...she’s a marshmallow. She just doesn’t let very many people know. The other day, she sent me this. I watched it in messenger, but the sound wasn’t on. I thought is was so sweet...a speech therapist is getting married and her groom surprises her with the beautiful children she works with. Sweet. Then...when I prepared to write this post, I watched the full video with the sound and sobbed all the way through it...three times.

We need more of this beauty and joy in our lives. These are hard times, yes. And there’s a lot of ugliness in this world. But....oh, my...there is still SO much beauty. Please don’t forget there is still so much beauty around us. Please don’t give up.

Keep looking.

WATCH THIS BEAUTIFUL VIDEO HERE!

❤️

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.”
Galatians 5:22-23 NIV

Day 167: The Longest Summer of my Life

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

Remember back when we were kids? School let out in May and it seemed like for-EV-er before it was September and time to go back. Then we grew up and became adults and got jobs and got married (or not) and had kids (or not). Then, summers dragged for an entirely different reason. By late August, we were like... “When does school start??? I’m done already!”

Then...life’s “Third Shift” kicked in. The kids are the ones married (or not) and with kids (or not) and we are left to our own devices. My mom’s generation played Bridge or MahJong if they were fortunate enough to not have to work outside of the home. Our generation plays pickle ball or what have you.

Whatever the case...it’s September. Seriously...March felt like at least a decade ago. I don’t even remember March. Did 2020 even HAVE a March? Or May? How about June and July? I mean...I could accept that it’s July...but September??? Crikey!

I think the total disruption of our routines and all the ensuing chaos has shifted our consciousness somehow and actually created a time warp. I mean...I could just as easily be 1963, if you ask me.

But, I digress. A Facebook friend asked yesterday if we could say something positive about 2020 so far. I had to think about it...but I came up with several things.

I mastered the art of sourdough bread.
I learned to change my expectations of others and focus on the goodness in the world.
I’ve learned that Black Lives Matter and saying that doesn’t diminish the importance of all lives.
I’ve learned that people can disappoint you when you’ve thought you’ve known them to the core...but you can still pray for them and love them like Jesus does.
I’ve learned video chats may be a poor substitute for visiting my Colorado family, but it’s still a joy to see them.
I’ve learned no human being should be forced to be with another human being 24/7/365 without some sort of recharge time. And, it’s ok to acknowledge that to said other human
I’ve learned how to lay this burden down while still fighting for change.
I’ve learned to make everything I do a silent prayer.

You may say 2020 sucks big ones, and I suppose it has in many ways. But, 2020 has been a gift in just as many ways. Above all, it has forced me into a closer relationship with Jesus. I’ve gotten to know Him a lot better and recognize His voice in the cacophony of this world. It’s brought me a lot closer to Mr. FixIt, as well. We’ve had to learn a new dance around strokes and staying at home and not doing whatever we want, whenever we want. And, believe it or not, it has brought me closer to our kids because we have more real conversations.

2020 may have brought me to my knees...but that’s not a bad position to be in for prayer.

I literally did nothing but bake a pan of lasagna and take a nap yesterday. It felt SO self-indulgent...and wonderful!!! Then, around the time the news went off, Daughter #1 called me for a video chat. Ohhhhh, my heart sings when I get to see my Colorado peeps. When we prepared to hang up, I smiled and thanked her so much for letting me see her sweet face.

“I cannot hug you in person,” I said. “But, I can hug you with my heart!”

❤️

“...The Lord watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from another.”
Genesis 31:49 KJV

Day 162: If at First You Don’t Succeed...

Thu, 27 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Round three of the “snaking the drain” saga. I had some things to do first. Run to the nearby Piggly Wiggly and pick up the pork picnics I ordered. Make the pork rub. Rub the pork and get it in the smoker. Clean and prepare a bucket of Roma tomatoes and load the dehydrator. Feed the sourdough starter and make a batch of sourdough pancakes with the discard. Clean up the kitchen. THEN I could go downstairs and help Mr. FixIt.

We wanted to run the snake down that drain at least once to make sure it was open. We painted a line on the cable the first day to indicate where the point of resistance was. Tuesday we could get all the way down...fifty feet. But, for some reason, yesterday the cable would not feed beyond that point. We fussed with it...pulled it back...sent it down again...same thing.

That’s when we noticed the cable was all jammed up in the drum. We turned everything off and unplugged the unit for safety, then manually pulled the cable all the way out. Easy peasy. However...as soon as we tried to run it back in, the cable would just flip around and twist on itself. I straightened that thing our three times...no easy feat. We brainstormed different ways to get that cable to go back into the drum but we came up with blanks.

Then, Mr. FixIt said, “We COULD go read the instruction manual.” This, from the man who already read the manual three days ago so I didn’t bother reading it. I can’t say a word, though. I didn’t think of reading the directions either. I went in and read the instructions and within two minutes, I went back downstairs and stuffed that cable in manually. Bingo!

We ran the snake down one more time and it went the entire fifty feet with no resistance. The cat snuck in the basement...again. She bit Mr. FixIt when he picked her up...again. She’s a pistol. It was getting to be a lot of fun at our house and I was hangry. *sigh*

I heated up pizza for supper. I couldn’t believe it was 5:00 already. The pork came out of the smoker at dark and went in the crockpots to slow cook overnight. I used Diet Pepsi this time for the broth. The tomatoes are dehydrating nicely but they take a while here in West Virginia. We had an inch and a half of rain on Tuesday so the sky was hazy with humidity and that will slow the process.

I fed the sourdough starter before I headed in to write so I can start the bread this morning. I checked on the sauerkraut and it’s coming along...bubbling and fermenting well. I’ll also be canning this smoked pork and putting the dehydrated tomatoes in olive oil to preserve them. I cannot believe it’s Thursday already...time is just getting away from me.

I think I’m taking tomorrow off!

❤️

“Hard work is worthwhile, but empty talk will make you poor.”
Proverbs 14:23 CEV

Day 161: Calling in the Troops on the Ponderosa

Wed, 26 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Today would have been my mama’s 95th birthday! Happy Heavenly Birthday, Wanda Belle!

It was hotter than blue blazes yesterday and we had to work on that drain some more. I ran the snake down several times and we weren’t making any progress so I suggested using a different blade on the end. We switched to a metal end that looks like a spring. I told Mr. FixIt that we might break through with that end, then we could switch back to a cutter. I put the snake down twice and we got stopped at the same point each time. We painted a small white spot on the snake to mark how far we got down.

Each time we pulled the snake back out, there were strands of fibrous roots attached. The pipe goes underneath the forsythia and flowering quince so there’s no wonder there are lots of roots down there. Finally, we got the snake to break past the roots and the mark we painted and extended all 50’ into the drain. We changed to the smaller cutting blade and it went through twice so at least we knew we had an opening, however small.

There were several times when I could feel the snake getting caught up in the roots and every time, I calmly asked God to help me get this job done. And every time, I got further and further along. God isn’t just there to help with the big stuff. He wants to help with everything. He loves when you ask him for assistance in your everyday life. And he answers. I was sure to thank him every time I made progress.

The storm drain goes to the creek so we went down to make sure that end was open. It was covered with at least two feet of earth from the spring floods! We worked with a 100 degree heat index and soon decided this job was bigger than the both of us so we called in the troops. Our friend Harry and his son were there within the hour and ninety minutes later, they had the ditch dug out and water was flowing through. And what should come out of the pipe? A golf ball! A remnant from the days when an active dog lived here. He loved to throw golf balls down the back steps into the drain.

There are a couple of things we still need to do before this drain is winter ready. There’s a thing you can put on the end of a garden hose that goes down the drain. When you turn on the water, the gizmo fills up and compresses against the edges of the pipe, creating a seal. Then, the running water builds up pressure and blows out the stuff that’s clogging up the pipe. After it flows well, we’ll put a solution down it that kills the roots in the pipe without killing the flowering shrubs above.

At the end of the work day, we were both too tired to cook so I ordered a pizza and picked it up. We had one heck of a storm come through here. It started just as the boys were finished digging the ditch and ended about ninety minutes later after dumping an inch and a half of rain. The storm drain did its job and the pumps didn’t kick on! On the way back from town, I snapped this picture. Even though it was well in the nineties yesterday, when that storm came through, the temperature dropped rapidly and the hills were shrouded in fog. You could see the hint of fall coming.

Used to, the idea of fall saddened me because winter would be close on its heels. Nowadays though, fall means cooler temperatures and the outdoor work begins to slow down. I’m looking forward to that...less mowing, less watering and weeding the garden, more time for a little fun...like camping and bonfires and roasting marshmallows. We are ready for a little break from the frenetic summer schedule.

When you live in the country on acreage, there is always something that needs to be done. When we go to my cousin’s for Thanksgiving, the men always go out and work the fields during the day while the women cook and visit. A body needs as many hands as he can get when things need fixing. The key is, knowing when it’s time to call in the troops. We are getting to the age where we have to admit...it’s time.

❤️

“Ask, and you will receive. Search, and you will find. Knock, and the door will be opened for you. Everyone who asks will receive. Everyone who searches will find. And the door will be opened for everyone who knocks.”
Matthew 7:7-8 CEV

Day 160: Snaking a Drain and Praising Jesus

Tue, 25 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Have you ever run a drain snake? I’m not talking about those little hand crank jobs that you get the hair clog out from under your sink. No...I’m talking about that big ol’ mama honkin’ electric job like a plumber uses. We have a drain at the bottom of the back staircase down into the basement that gets clogged with roots and the like and really should be snaked out once a year. Well...it hasn’t been done for three years and this spring we had a mess on our hands.

When the drain gets clogged, the water backs up and comes in our basement. When this happens, we have to take the carpet cleaner and suck up the water. It’s a mess and king sized pain in the patoot. We decided to buy one of these snakes instead of rent them over and over and yesterday was our lucky day. We’ve had dry weather so before it got too hot, we got to work.

I’ve never run one of these things, so I watched Mr. FixIt closely. There is a cable with blades on the end. There is a power switch that starts the cable to turning. Then you feed the cable down into the drain. In our case, it has to go about fifteen feet then makes a hard turn so you have to navigate the blades through there. Then, the cable is fifty feet long. The object is to get all that cable down in there to chew up any roots and clear out the drain.

We had to run it down and pull it back several times to remove roots from the blades. It’s really hard on your back, so I finally took over and did the feeding. The last two times we put it down, it hit snags and I could not seem to get it to go past that point. By then the sun was overhead and it was getting really hot so we gave up on it for the day.

I love to learn how to do new things. I love learning how to be self sufficient...not that I’m thinking I’ll have to be any time soon, but experience has taught me it is best to know how to do what needs to be done. We’ll get back to it today. I picked another pan of tomatoes last evening so I have enough to can some. I ordered more pork picnic roasts to smoke and can. And, it’s just about time to bake bread again. We found more canning jars in the basement so I’m not as short as I thought I was. And, there’s a dehydrator so I think I’m going to try drying some of the Roma tomatoes and pack them in olive oil to preserve them.

This is a beautiful time to be alive...if you LOOK for the beauty. It’s still out there!

❤️

“God makes everything happen at the right time. Yet none of us can ever fully understand all he has done, and he puts questions in our minds about the past and the future. I know the best thing we can do is to always enjoy life, because God's gift to us is the happiness we get from our food and drink and from the work we do.”
Ecclesiastes 3:11-13 CEV

Day 157: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way...

Sat, 22 Aug 2020 01:20:00 -0600

God has a sense of humor. He knows when we’ve had it up to here. That’s when he sends you something so patently absurd, you can’t help but break out into a belly laugh. That’s one of the ways the Great Healer heals...He brings us laughter.

Mr. FixIt and I had a laundry list of things that needed doing yesterday in town...one of which was to mail some overdue greeting cards. There were two condolence cards and a graduation card, so I sat down to write. I filled out the first card and wrote a lovely note. As I prepared to start the second condolence card, Mr. FixIt interrupted me as he was looking for the graduation announcement. We needed it for the address to send the graduation card.

I told him not to worry, I would just text his sister to get the address. It wasn’t long till she and I were chatting back and forth. She gave me the address and I wrote it on the envelope. As we chatted about the smoked pork I canned last week, I wrote the sentiment in the card and popped it in the envelope.

Then I reached for.... Suddenly, I was puzzled. The only card left was the graduation card. If that’s the case...what was I writing in? I opened the envelope and there was the sympathy card...addressed to the young graduate! I started laughing, because I could just imagine which one would be funnier.

The new graduate with...

Remembering you 
in thought and prayer...

Let there be hope.
Let there be stories.
Let there be celebration
of a life well-lived.
Let there be tears,
but let there be happy memories
of all you shared.

or...

My cousin, the new widow, with the handwritten sentiment....

“Congratulations on your
Graduation & Best Wishes 
in your Future Endeavors!”

I told my cousin about it last night and we laughed till we cried. I wonder which one I should send it to?

When we were leaving Walmart later in the afternoon, I walked by a woman on her cell phone. Her husband had wandered off and she was on the phone, trying to explain he should turn around and he could see her. Finally, she got frustrated and without the phone, she yelled his name.

“Marco!!!”

To which I turned around and shouted...

“Polo!!!”

We stood looking at each other for half a beat and literally doubled over laughing. Oh, you can’t make this stuff up!

Later in the day, I was on the phone with my son-in-law’s mom. Her husband and our granddaughter, “Little”, went to the nursing home to see her great grandmother yesterday afternoon. When she got home she said,

“Mimi, Grandma has gotten sick and almost died so many times in the last few years. There have been times Mom picked us up and we just went straight to the nursing home to say goodbye. Then she rallies and gets better. You know, I think most people go up there and knock on the doors of Heaven and are let right in. But, not Grandma. I think she rings the doorbell and runs!”

What a delightfully happy diversion laughter can be when things are so hard and dark. Laughter IS the best medicine!!!

And, oh...by the way...my cousin won. I’m sending HER the card...as is!

❤️

“Everything on earth has its own time and its own season......for crying and laughing, weeping and dancing,”
Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4 CEV

Day 154: The Sacred Harp

Wed, 19 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Part of my new “quest for inner peace” has been exploring the history of my people here in Appalachia. The other day, when I felt so terribly lost and downtrodden in this messy world we are living in, I started reading a book by Foxfire Press about Aunt Arie...an octogenarian who lived in the Appalachian Mountains of Georgia. She was interviewed by the students who comprised the Foxfire program and became...by far...the most beloved and unforgettable character featured in their books.

As you know, when you go searching for information on something specific, the internet can be a treasure trove of delights to the senses. A search for Foxfire sent me to their Foxfire Heritage Museum...bought and developed by students with the proceeds from the books they published through Foxfire Press. Foxfire Heritage sent me to Appalachian Heritage. And somewhere along the line, I stumbled upon “shape note music”.

I was a singer in school and was a member of choirs from sixth grade on through high school. I’ve always loved to sing. And, somewhere back in the recesses of my mind, I recalled hearing about shape notes but had never really studied it. Google rescued my weary heart by plopping me down in the middle of a world I never knew existed...nearly in my own back yard.

The “Sacred Harp” is not only a book of music composed with shape notes. It alludes to the human voice as an instrument...the sacred harp. Shape note, or sacred harp music, has a rich history. It was brought to America and quickly spread as a kind of worship music when there were no instruments. The music is based on either four or seven shapes, depending on your source, with each shape corresponding to a specific note.

This is not a kind of performance music. Shape note singers perform for each other...not for an audience. They sit in a square and the person leading selects the song. The singers go through the music singing the notes by their names...fa, sol, la, mi. Then the next round, they sing the “poetry”...the lyrics. The music is sung in four part harmony and it sounds old and rich and holy.

I found a wonderful page I want to share with you from the West Virginia Public Broadcasting website discussing the history of shape note singing and how the Covid Pandemic has affected their gatherings. On this page, you will find a twelve minute recording, a short two minute video of Sacred Harp singing with an explanation, and a collaborative project consisting of Shape Note Singers from around the world brought together virtually to sing Page No. 146: Hallelujah.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I have. It has offered me a strange kind of peace. The music moves me in a way that goes deep into my past generations...a sort of institutional or genetic memory. The kind where you know how to do something but there’s no reason you should because you’ve never done it before. I feel this same connection when I enter land where my forebears lived, even though I’d never been there.

Tomorrow, we will talk about another kind of virtual choir performance that one of my dear friends took part in. Till then...be good to each other.

You can find the story on Sacred Harp Singing HERE.

❤️

“When I was really hurting, I prayed to the Lord. He answered my prayer, and took my worries away. The Lord is on my side, and I am not afraid of what others can do to me.”
Psalms 118:5-6 CEV

Day 153: Ahhhh...That’s More Like It!

Tue, 18 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I can almost feel the stress melting off my shoulders by the moment. After the last few hectic weeks, and then backing off from social media, I am much more centered and relaxed. The fact that the nights have been cooler and we’ve been “camping” out in our field at the Ponderosa. Sleeping in my camper always makes me a happy girl!

I worked on the website for a few hours yesterday while Mr. FixIt was at the dentist. When he got home, we hooked up the trailer and took the mowers out to the farm. We got about halfway there and the road was soaked. It was so cool to watch the steam rising up from the hot asphalt after the rain that had just passed through. It wasn’t too much further that the road was dry. We bet each other whether there was rain at the farm. I said there was...and I won. Not a bet I wanted to win, though. The grass was thick and wet and not easy to mow.

When we were at the farm last time, we noticed that the internet wasn’t working. I called to report it and left my phone number but never heard from anyone. I sat down to call and was on hold for quite some time when I looked out the window to see the neighbor’s garden. Lo and behold, there on the bird seed bin was a brand new modem the phone guy left for me. I hooked it up and we were back in business in five minutes flat!

Once the lawn was mowed and I had a good thirty minute video chat with Daughter #1, we packed back up and headed home. I told Mr. FixIt that I felt we definitely deserved ice cream after all that so we stopped at the Piggly Wiggly to get some. We happily munched out on a Magnum Double Caramel bar on the way home!

As soon as we had everything unhooked and put away, I made a beeline for the camper to write. It was a little stuffy after being closed up all day, but it was soon cool and comfortable from the strategically placed fans. We don’t have a single thing planned till the 29th! I’ve been letting the tomatoes ripen and I think today is the day to get them picked and canned. Seriously, it won’t amount to much once I cook them down. As soon as the garden is finished, it’s camping time for us!

I feel a hundred pounds happier!

❤️

“Our Lord, we belong to you. We tell you what worries us, and you won't let us fall. But what about those people who are cruel and brutal? You will throw them down into the deepest pit long before their time. I trust you, Lord!”
Psalms 55:22-23 CEV

Day 152: Crisis Fatigue...Stepping Away With a Soft Heart

Mon, 17 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

When is too much WAY too much? Where do you draw the line and say enough is enough? How do you step back when you just can’t do any more?

I eased my world a lot the last couple of weeks when I snoozed, unfollowed, unfriended, and...yes...even blocked a few people on my personal Facebook page. My decision to stop posting, forwarding, and commenting on anything remotely controversial and/or political helped a lot. I’ve even stepped out of a few chat rooms with really wonderful people for no other reason than I just can’t take one more thing right now.

I don’t know about you but I’m facing a very real case of crisis fatigue. When the human body is presented with a crisis situation, it produces cortisol...the hormone responsible for our fight or flight response. That’s really handy if you happen to be camping and a great big bear wanders across your path. The heightened attention and rapid response is meant to save your life. But, this year has been like walking into the International Convention of Pissed Off Grizzly Bears....every...single...day. When that happens, it doesn’t take long for the wheels to come off the bus.

Increased anxiety. Insomnia. Weight gain. Hypertension. Cushing Syndrome. Relationship distress. Even bone loss. All can occur from prolonged elevated levels of cortisol. Plain and simple...it’s just not good for you.

According to an article in WIRED Magazine written by Matt Simon... "Crisis fatigue manifests itself on two levels. On a societal level, it can tempt people to collectively throw up their hands and give up on civic engagement. 'Why not, if we’re going to hell in a handcart? Let’s just enjoy tomorrow.' Matthew Flinders, founding director of Sir Bernard Crick Centre for the Public Understanding of Politics at the University of Sheffield, told WIRED earlier this week."

Since 9/11, we have had multiple episodes of acute crises...wildfires, financial strife, social unrest, politics, Covid, job loss. Basically, the sound of the planes hitting the Twin Towers has echoed through every part of American life for the last twenty years. If there is that much havoc in our lives, isn’t it really a small thing to step back a little from the tiny screens that are occupying so much of our waking moments?

I write every day...I have to. It’s a part of who I am and what I do. But, when I get my screen usage report and it tells me just how much time I am spending on these devices, I realize that isn’t healthy either. I have this one group of girlfriends whom I dearly love. We went to high school together. We are each other’s cheerleaders. We are there for one another as we face the challenges of life. And, as much as I love them, we get chatty in that room and by the end of the day we can easily have fifty or more notifications pinging on our phones.

I know...I cant turn off the notifications, but I suffer from FOMO...fear of missing out. I’m like my grandma in that regard. If the phone rang, she’d break her neck to get to it so she could find out who was calling. It may have been someone she really didn’t care to have a conversation with at the time, but by golly...she wasn’t going to miss out on the possibility it was someone else. So, when the phone “pings”, I have to pick it up. I read. I respond. I set the phone down. Someone else responds. “Ping!” Pick up. Respond. Set down. It’s crazy.

If I didn’t have anything else going on in my life, it wouldn’t bother me a bit. And, I feel a bit silly...a little guilty perhaps...but I had to step away. I sent them loving messages and said, “It’s not you...it’s me. I can’t right now. I’ll be back someday, but right now? I just can’t.” They get it. They’re feeling it, too. Maybe they don’t know there is a name for it. Maybe they don’t know how to step back...or maybe they don’t need to.

I think the bottom line here is...you can step away with a soft heart. You don’t have to hurt anyone’s feelings or get agitated or up in arms. You can just be honest. It’s all so much. Yes, I could have just turned off the notifications and picked up the phone when I had time. But, I’d still be spending the same amount of time reading the updates and catching up.

It’s not like the individuals in the group can’t reach me or vise-versa. We are still friends on Facebook. We are still connected and are but a text away should someone want to reach out. Between that, shutting down websites and forwarded sources that I do not want to see, and snoozing several of the more vocal suspects, I felt a collective sigh of relief once I was done.

It’s ok to step away. When I think of all the things I am apt to miss, it’s decidedly my peace of mind that I miss the most. I’m well on the way to lowering those cortisol levels and promoting some peace in my life. Because here’s what happens when you step away from something. You make space between you. And, you can allow that space to be used for parking the offenses between others and yourself.

Best they sit in that space unattended than to sit in the space between your ears.

❤️

“God's Spirit doesn't make cowards out of us. The Spirit gives us power, love, and self-control.”
2 Timothy 1:7 CEV

Day 151: My Shining Ray of Hope in a Phone Call

Sun, 16 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I worked on my website for a few hours yesterday. The office is across the wall from the television in the family room and my sweet hubby was snoozed out in his recliner with a shoot ‘em up action film going. I could feel every boom to my toes so I turned on my music. The booms melded with the tympani of the orchestra and soon I was blissfully lost in my work. Did I mention I hate television? We have agreed on a compromise. Until my second cup of coffee is done, there will only be old reruns of Andy Griffith on the TV. Then I can go do whatever else I want to do. Win-Win!

We had three inches of rain yesterday between 6:00am and 2:30pm. I sure wish we could send some out west to help with the fires. Our high temp yesterday was predicted to be 73 degrees. I will take a day like that anytime!

As soon as the rain let up, I packed up a few things and was about to head out the door to the camper when my phone rang. I was one of my dearest friends in the whole world calling from Colorado. She read my post yesterday and said, “You DON’T want to come to Colorado! The smoke is so bad, we can’t even go out of the house!” We went on to talk for an hour and I’m telling you...it was like salve to a sore place, as my grandma used to say.

Barbara and I are about ten years apart in age, yet my youngest and her oldest are only nine months apart. We became fast friends when her husband opened his practice in the same small Colorado town where Hubby #2 and I lived. She’s that friend you may not talk to frequently, but when you connect, the time seems to melt away. I felt 1000% percent better after talking to her and hearing she is going through much of the same things I am feeling with all that’s going on. I was her God appointment of the day...I am sure.

When we finally said our goodbyes, I grabbed my camping bag filled with books and writing implements and told Mr. FixIt I was “going camping”! So, as I am writing this, I am tucked into TOW-Wanda...pretending I’m camped near a clear mountain lake high in the Rockies and I can literally feel the stress peel off of my weary heart and mind.

There are ways to escape...even when you are bound to your premises. Remember to protect your mental well-being as well as your physical health during stressful times. Chronic stress leads to high cortisol levels and that can lead to a lot of physical problems in and of itself. A phone call. A good book. I’m reading Aunt Arie: A Foxfire Portrait and just love it. Aunt Arie is so much like my grandma and her contemporaries that I grew up with and her stories take me back to my childhood. A change of scenery...even if it’s just in another room or a short drive away...can do wonders for your frame of mind.

There’s nothing like rain on the roof of a camper to put things in perspective and I am blessed to have this little home on wheels. I noticed a little bit of water on the floor so I need to do some sealing work in the next dry stretch.

❤️

“I give you peace, the kind of peace only I can give. It isn't like the peace this world can give. So don't be worried or afraid.”
John 14:27 CEV

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 148: My Peace Filter...Hit the Snooze Button

Thu, 13 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

First, let me thank you for the prayers and concern you offered for my sweet brother. I was so relieved when I found out he wasn’t being evacuated. But, with that being said, please pray for my Colorado hometown...Glenwood Springs. Glenwood Canyon has been burning on both sides of the Colorado River with high winds and no rain in sight. I’ve spent many wonderful hours in that canyon over the years and it was never a matter of “if” this would happen...but “when”. And when is now, I’m afraid. There is another much larger fire west of there, as well. Please pray for the smoke jumpers and slurry bombers navigating dangerous territory.

My day was filled yesterday. It started with baking bread and continued on to smoking 20 pounds of pork...a full rack of ribs and two fresh picnics. Today will be packaging the pulled pork, cleaning the smoker, and starting on the tomatoes from the garden.

The other day I wrote about maintaining a peaceful demeanor during these crazy times. For a while, I tried counteracting misinformation with articles from reputable news outlets. I found that didn’t change anything except my mood. It made me dark and stormy. And, it was incredibly time consuming. The next thing I tried was hitting the three little gray dots to the right of a post. On the drop down menu, there is usually a choice to “hide all from_______”...the source of the material. I hid things right and left. That started easing my feed a little bit because it didn’t matter who shared it...if it came from that source, I didn’t see it. Still, more and more hate was flowing through my page. I love my friends. I love my family. I want to keep up with what’s going on with them. I made the executive decision this week to take my page back. I started snoozing people for thirty days. Bingo...the hate level dropped tremendously.

Am I sticking my head in the sand? No way! It’s self preservation. I don’t need to see all that stuff. I just need to see pictures of my grandkids and my friends’ gardens and the occasional cartoon.

I focus on the calm, steadiness of the Holy Spirit. I seek the peace that goes beyond all understanding. I can feel the stress melt off my shoulders already. I find I actually surf less because I’m not drawn into “discussions” which are causing rifts in my relationships. There is something I learned many years ago. The person who is actually IN a toxic relationship is the last one to know it. I think right now, about 40% of us are in a toxic relationship with at least one person they know and they won’t realize it till they get out of it. I am hoping and praying that eyes will be opened, that compassion and civility will be restored, and that we will all seek a calm and steady path. The world feels like a really bad marriage right now.

Mr. FixIt has graduated from Physical Therapy so I see camping in our future! The Perseid Meteor Shower is technically past its peak, but you are liable to catch some shooting stars if your skies are clear. And, if they aren’t? Take advantage of the warm night air and sit outside for a while. When it comes January and February...you’ll be so glad you did.

❤️

“God blesses those people who make peace. They will be called his children!”
Matthew 5:9 CEV

Day 147: A Fire Far Away, A Worry Close to Home

Wed, 12 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I opened my little needlework shop in Glenwood Springs in June 2002. A few days before my opening, the Coal Seam Fire erupted and several homes were lost in West Glenwood. No lives were lost in that fire, thank God. Forest fires and Colorado seem to go hand in hand. These long, dry spells and prevailing winds can turn the simplest little spark into a raging inferno on a dime.

The day the Coal Seam Fire erupted, I was at home with my Mom and Gary and Daughter #2. I had spent hours upon hour entering inventory into the new computer in the shop and I was so afraid of losing it, so before things got too bad, I made a beeline for Glenwood to get it. I ran in the shop, unhooked the CPU and headed right back home. In just the few minutes it took me to get back to the interstate, the fire had swept down the hillside on the south side of the river. The smoke was filling the canyon, but there was no one telling me not to go through. So...I floored it and headed west.

I just about made it to the South Canyon Bridge when there was a flash to my right. I leaned forward and looked out the windshield to see an arc of fire crossing the river and interstate and burning the hillside on my right. It was like a flaming rainbow! I wasn’t about to stop there and there was no way to turn around so I pressed forward. And...just twenty yards or so ahead, I popped out of the smoke and flames and headed on home. No worse for the wear, but shaken, nonetheless.

I heard about a fire on Monday that was not too far from Glenwood Springs where my brother lives. Then yesterday, I started getting texts and videos showing a huge fire right in Glenwood Canyon. That was getting too close for comfort and I called my brother.

“Hey, Bubby...whatcha doin’?”

“Well, you aren’t going to believe what I’m doing. I’m getting ready to do something I’ve never done before in my life!”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“I’m getting evacuated!”

Just what I wanted to hear.

“Where are they taking you?”

“To a hotel, I think.”

“Ok...well, don’t be scared. It’s going to be alright.”

“Why should I be scared? I’ve never been evacuated before!”

My brother. Always up for an adventure while his sister has an anxiety attack. lol

I checked my resources, asked my buds in Glenwood for an update, and was beginning to feel pretty confident the fire wasn’t imminently heading for my brother’s apartment. A friend called me from Glenwood to reassure me the fire wasn’t lapping at his door. Then...he called me.

Apparently, no one had explained the differences between “pre-evacuation” and “evacuation” to my brother and his roommate. A staff member came to the apartment and filled the guys in and told them there wasn’t anything to be concerned about...they weren’t getting evacuated.

So, all is quiet on the western front but my fight or flight response is sure as the dickens getting a workout these days! Now I need an antacid. Sometimes I wonder why I quit drinking. ?

❤️

“Don't worry about anything, but pray about everything. With thankful hearts offer up your prayers and requests to God. Then, because you belong to Christ Jesus, God will bless you with peace that no one can completely understand. And this peace will control the way you think and feel.”
Philippians 4:6-7 CEV

Day 146: Another Bad Night, Another Good Day

Tue, 11 Aug 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Nearly 5 inches of rain, Bread Pudding in my favorite iron skillet, foggy morning on the Ponderosa, Grandma’s Church, “Naked Ladies” lillies, the back field on the Ponderosa in the fog.

I used to have what I referred to as “bad nights” in the early years after losing Mr. Virgo. I will never forget the blessed feeling of relief when they finally let up. I will also never forget when they resurfaced years later and I couldn’t shake the thought that maybe this is just the way things are with the new new normal of grief.

Thankfully, those bad nights are few and far between anymore. They are usually triggered by stress and...could there be anything more stressful than your new husband having two strokes not much more than a year after the wedding...compounded by everything else going on in this world today? We have had two deaths in the family in the last two weeks. One was my cousin’s husband. That stirs up those old memories.

I went to bed Sunday night like I always do. I slept so well on Friday and Saturday nights. I was hoping for a repeat. I wrote my post. I fed my sourdough starter. I took my meds and did my evening toilette. I climbed between clean sheets with the windows open and a cool evening breeze coming in. I put away my phone so I wouldn’t be tempted to lay there and surf or read or play games. In other words, I did everything right. Still...sleep did not come.

I laid there for hours...tossing and turning. I knew I was keeping Mr. FixIt awake, so I tried to just lay still so I wouldn’t bother him. Then I got a headache from laying in the same position. When Mr. FixIt doesn’t sleep soundly, he become a noisy sleeper. Every time he turns over, he either moans or shouts out...depending on the level of discomfort he has from arthritis. Suffice it to say...I watched the sun coming up.

I got up, drew my fuzzy robe around me, and walked outside to photograph the morning fog. I love fog...it’s so cool and mysterious and softens the world to a hazy glow. The fog also dampens the sounds of the world. The birds seem to whisper their tenuous calls so not to wake up Mother Nature before the coffee’s ready.

I wandered around for a while, went back inside and cleaned the kitchen, and finally...around 7:30...I thought I’d try again to sleep. That’s when the “bad” part of the “bad nights” hit. I laid there, realizing it had now been 24 hours I’d been awake. What if something happened and Mr. FixIt had a medical emergency and needed me? What if something happened to the kids? How would I be my best if I hadn’t had any sleep. You all know where that snowball went...right downhill.

I laid there, quietly willing myself to settle down, to not borrow trouble, to not wake up my husband. When he finally did wake up, I told him about my night and he urged me to not worry about a thing and get some sleep. I went into the guest room and slept till 3:30 in the afternoon!

When I awoke, we went to the farm to get the long ladder so I could seal the roof on TOW-Wanda. When we got home, we watched the news and then worked on the camper. I fixed a great meal, and the day was done. My biggest gift of the day came again from Miss Jackie. Her husband was a pastor and she is just a knowledgeable woman when it comes to the Bible. There, in her comment on yesterday’s post was her formula for maintaining mental health. A verse from Philippians. I’ll include it here.

These verses are an instruction manual for maintaining balance in these crazy times. Good friends can bring such good advice when they are plugged into the light. I cherish those friends who tell me like it is, who gently correct...and who sometimes kick me in the butt when I need it. Thank you all for always being here.

As Ram Dass said...”We are all just walking each other home.”

❤️

“You have a special place in my heart. So it is only natural for me to feel the way I do. All of you have helped in the work God has given me, as I defend the good news and tell about it here in jail.”
Philippians 1:7 CEV

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 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 136: It’s All in the Tone

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

I was an absolute a$$ this week to one of my dearest friends in the world. She and I live on pretty opposite ends of the political spectrum and I usually do a decent job of keeping myself in check. But something in me snapped this week and I went way over my line in the sand and I knew I had hurt her. She went quiet. She didn’t open my texts. I realized I had put “being right” over “being smart”. Over “being kind”.

It does absolutely no good to scream at others over your differences. And, while I didn’t think I was “screaming”, I forgot that tone is everything with the written word. I was struck by something President Bush said at Senator John Lewis’ funeral: “Listen, John and I had our disagreements of course - but in the America John Lewis fought for, and the America I believe in, differences of opinion are inevitable elements and evidence of democracy in action.”

It takes a great deal of insight to recognize when you have crossed a boundary, and it takes courage and humility to ask forgiveness for your transgressions. I am not sorry for having my own ideas of what I feel is right. But I AM sorry for acting as though MY ideas should be everyone else’s ideas, too. The world isn’t black and white. We all believe in things through the lens of who we are, where we’ve been, what we’ve seen, and how we want the world to be.

I was relieved when my friend accepted my apology and we again expressed our love for each other. Does that mean we cannot have lively debate with others who disagree with us? No, of course not. But it DOES mean we are all God’s children and he loves us equally. We should pray as much for our own understanding as we do for the understanding of others. We can disagree and still come from a place of human decency and loving kindness.

Respect helps your ideas go a lot further than standing on a bully pulpit.

I so needed a break from all this daily angst online and in the news. When we woke up yesterday morning, Mr. FixIt asked what I wanted to do with my day and I said I wanted to drive up to Kidron, Ohio and check out Lehman’s Hardware. I’ve been drooling over their catalogs for years and it seemed like the perfect escape.

We grabbed coffee at the drive through and drove the two-and-a-half hours north. OMGosh! That place is the Smithsonian of hardware stores. Honestly, it would take several days of browsing (without the hubby) to take it all in. Building after building are connected with each one housing yet another genre of goodies to behold. I made a bee line for the kitchen area and honestly, I saw very little of the rest of the store.

I picked up some wonderful things for the kitchen. We needed a new pizza cutter. Ours broke over a year ago. I got one of those gadgets that cut the corn from the ear. I needed a new Foley Food Mill for separating the seeds and skins from the tomatoes when I can them. I lost mine in the downsizing, I think. I found a great springform pan with a glass bottom for making cheesecakes. I also found a skimmer with a very fine screen for getting the foam off the top of jelly before I put it in the jars. It will double as a fine sifter for putting rice flour on my sourdough loaves before I score them.

Let’s see...I got Lehman’s 65th Year recipe book that I can hardly wait to read. I found the perfect canning ladle. And, I got a little gizmo for making very small batches of homemade butter. Homemade butter doesn’t last quite as long as the kind you buy in the store and it’s not always easy to make up very small batches. This may be one of those gadgets that look like a better idea in the store than it actually does in the kitchen, but we shall see.

When we got home, I felt like I had been away for a week. And the very best part is, I didn’t spend so much time on the internet or Facebook and it gave me a much better outlook and attitude. And, my friendship is still intact without compromising my ideals. It was a very restorative and very humbling day. We need those from time to time.

It is a new month...another new start.

❤️

“If I have to brag, I will brag about how weak I am.”
2 Corinthians 11:30 CEV

Day 134: Birds, Bugs, and Bread

Thu, 30 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I woke up yesterday in one of my favorite places in the whole wide world...TOW-Wanda! Night before last got down into the 60’s and it was perfect sleeping weather in the camper. Mr. FixIt and I went out after supper to watch for meteors and while we were stretched out on the lounge chairs by the pool, we decided it was the perfect night to go “camping”. I gathered what we needed and headed out to the camper and he joined me later when the news was over.

We both sleep really well in the camper. It’s probably the best mattress I’ve ever owned. I bought it when I got my first camper about three weeks after Mr. Virgo died. I woke up fairly early and went in to fire up the stove and bake a couple loaves of sourdough. After I cleaned up the kitchen, I worked on here. I still have two years’ worth of posts to copy from Facebook over to the blog and I work at it whenever I have an hour or two. It’s something nice to do when it’s too hot outside.

I baked a couple of pizza crusts and we had homemade pizza for supper. Afterwards, I went out to water the garden and picked a few tomatoes. I’m still seeing some blossom end rot on my tomatoes so I’m hoping they respond to the tomato food I put on them a couple of days ago. It would be a shame to put all this work into growing them only to have them be ruined because I didn’t feed them right.

Mr. FixIt and I were sitting in the family room watching the news when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. He jumped and said, “There’s a bird in here!” I looked over at the window and sure enough, there was a little chimney sweep fluttering against the glass trying to get out. I grabbed the first thing within reach to trap it before it flew around...Mr. FixIt’s WVU hat! Ohhhhh....he wasn’t too happy about that but I caught the bird faster than he could grab the hat away from me and let it go outside.

Later on, I was back in the bedroom writing this when I heard him “whoop” again and called for me. “There’s another bird in here!” I grabbed a dishtowel this time and caught the little bird. We took it outside and it got really confused by the outdoor light and kept fluttering around it. Before I could get the door shut, it flew back in! I corned the little thing in the kitchen and this time we turned off the outdoor light and closed the door before I let it go.

We had to determine where the birds were getting in. We know we have had Chimney Swifts in our chimney for the last couple of years because we see them swooping in and out at dusk. And, we can hear them in there feeding their babies. I checked the upstairs fireplace and the glass fireplace door was closed, as was the door to the dining room. They had to be coming in from the fireplace in the basement.

Mr. FixIt swore the flue was closed. He pulled on it and said, “Yep...it’s closed.” I don’t trust anything unless I see it for myself so I got down on my knees to shine a flashlight up the chimney. It wasn’t closed and I am telling you what...it was a darned good thing birds didn’t shoot out of there at me! He closed the flue for sure this time and I double checked it so I don’t think we’re going to get anymore birds in here.

Then, as I was getting up off the floor, I notice little round circles all over the floor. I couldn’t see very well because I didn’t grab my glasses when I went running to catch the bird. Upon closer inspection, I realized what I was seeing. Little baby millipedes. HUNDREDS of little baby millipedes. Ok, I’ll catch birds. And I’ll catch snakes and spiders and groundhogs and raccoons and possums and turtles. But centipedes and millipedes creep me totally out. Mr. FixIt to the rescue.

While my sweet hubby was vacuuming up the curly little devils, I was online Googling why the heck we had a gazillion of these critters in our basement. It turns out, we had a really long wet spring so a whole bunch of the buggers were produced. Then, since it’s been so incredibly dry, they’ve been coming in under the basement door trying to find moisture. Vacuuming them up is the quickest way to get rid of an infestation. Then, you want to make sure the crack under the door is sealed. You can also use ant spray to deter them.

So, it was a crazy busy day farming here at the Ponderosa. Honestly, you don’t know from one day to the next what we’re going to run into. Let’s hope there’s no big surprises today!

❤️

“The birds of the sky nest by the waters; they sing among the branches.”
Psalms 104:12 NIV

Day 133: The Many Faces of Grief

Wed, 29 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I received a phone call yesterday from my baby cousin. She was the one who lived far away and came to visit us several times when we were growing up. She’s had her hands full...caring for her mom, my favorite auntie. And for her husband, who has been ill for quite some time. They are young...not quite sixty. I remember the first time I got to see her. She couldn’t quite walk and my aunt had her dressed in the sweetest little outfit with a matching coat. Her little curls stuck out from under the edges of the matching bonnet.

We were all smitten with our “Trinket”, as Grandma called her. She was like a china doll and we didn’t even mind that Grandma paid all her attention to this little one. We knew she was special. Anyway...she called yesterday. Her beloved husband passed in his sleep Sunday night. My heart breaks for her because I know what she is going through. I know what she has ahead of her. I pray for her comfort and peace. I know she is very strong and capable and she will get through this. I just hate it for her.

When I look back at pictures of us all those many years ago, we had no idea what was going to happen to us in our lives. She is now the third of us cousins to lose a spouse. Grandma lost her only love when she was sixty-five. She showed us girls how to live through that with strength and dignity and courage.

There are so many faces of grief. It isn’t just the death of a person that grieves us. We can feel just as deep grief whether the source is a person, place, or thing. I’ve been grieving a potential loss the last couple of years knowing my beloved family farm will not always be “mine”. My uncle owns it and he is aging now. He cannot keep coming to fix it or put the money into it forever, so the time will come.

I was grieving that more this week since the tree came down and the house needed fixing. It made the “eventuality” come closer to the forefront. I have to admit, I became distraught over it. Then “Trinket” lost her husband and God whispered...”All things must come to an end and come Home to me.”

We can make all the plans we want. We can have dreams and adventures. And in the end, our best gift is the memories we made with the time we were given. I’ve been having a lot of fun with this baking and gardening and canning. And, as soon as that settles down, my focus is back on writing. I’m going to write the story of...The Farm: A Story of Love and Land. I’ll gather pictures and stories from everyone and we’ll have a book for the family to read and remember. Then we’ll have a grand reunion and say a proper goodbye to this home of my heart.

I have no idea how much time I have exactly for this project, but I’m giving myself a year. That should be plenty. And it will help ease my dependence on the old house. Someday she will not be ours...she will belong to another family. But, she will always and forever be the home of my heart.

❤️

“My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest. Though hail flattens the forest and the city is leveled completely, how blessed you will be, sowing your seed by every stream, and letting your cattle and donkeys range free.”
Isaiah 32:18-20 NIV

Day 132: The City Park Fountain

Tue, 28 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

When I was growing up, it was a very big deal to get to go to the City Park in my home town. It boasted the “World’s Largest Lily Pond”. I don’t know whether that is true or not, but it did have a massive lily pond that was so gorgeous when the lilies were in bloom. There was a large fountain out in the center of the pond and white swans swimming around. The trees were plentiful and massive...well, they were to a little girl. There were baseball games with lights on the field. There was a small zoo and a museum. There were monuments and cannons and steam machinery. Tennis courts, basketball courts, a covered shuffleboard area. And a swimming pool. There were several covered picnic pavilions and a large activity center called “The Pavilion” where dances were periodically held. At the entryway, there was a large three tiered fountain with a statue of a woman on the top. The water cascaded down and if we were very good, we got to throw a penny in the fountain. We used to go to City Park every year for the Fourth of July Fireworks and Carnival. We had countless picnics there.

Over the years, the park fell into disarray. The beautifully manicured lawns and landscaped flowerbeds were often overgrown. As with many inner city parks, vagrants could often be found sleeping in the band shelter or on one of the picnic tables. Graffiti covered the walls of the bathrooms and you took your life in your own hands going into one. There were multiple overdoses and occasional deaths in the park.

Still, memories are hard to drive out and I kept going back. Over the last several years, little by little, life has been coming back to the park. They built a splash pad for the kids. A couple of the old basketball courts were removed to make way for Pickleball. The zoo was long since removed. The pond lost its lilies in favor of a cleaner, more sanitary fishing area. The Pavilion houses an indoor ice skating rink, albeit on an artificial “ice”.

A few years ago, the Friends of the Park asked for volunteers to adopt a flower bed and several of my high school classmates have been doing a beautiful job. They are keeping the flowers in our bed looking like something out of a magazine. They should be very proud. Our flower bed is one of the first that you see upon entering the park.

The fountain at the entrance was built in the early 1900’s and became a well known landmark in Parkersburg. Somewhere along the line, the fountain was damaged by a lightning strike, I believe. It was repaired with fiberglass, then a few years ago a tree came down in a storm and the fountain was blown over and destroyed. It stood with just its broken bottom level for a couple of years. Then, this spring, work began to restore the fountain to it’s original beauty.

This weekend it was unveiled and is a near perfect replica of the original fountain. The water has been turned on...something we haven’t seen in decades. In times when there is so much uncertainty, so much bitterness and anger and division...we saw a little window to the past open this week in our little corner of the world. I can’t answer for anyone else...but I felt a little tiny bit of the weight of the last few months lift off my shoulders when we took a drive out to the park to see this proud beauty back in action.

It did my heart good. It’s the little things now.

❤️

“Have faith in me, and you will have life-giving water flowing from deep inside you, just as the Scriptures say.””
John 7:38 CEV

Photo Credit: Dan Kemper

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 130: Not What I Expected

Sun, 26 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Even with everything that’s gone on this year since the initial lockdown, yesterday felt different. Mr. FixIt and I were heading to our great-grandson’s 1st Birthday Party. We needed to make a stop at Walmart to pick some things up to take with us. There is only one entrance open now at the Walmart we shop at.

“This Door for Emergency Use Only” the sign said.

Yellow caution tape lined the area where we were inspected for masks before entering the store. That is good. I want people to wear masks. But this time I could feel the longevity of this disease. It’s too late to say “If only everyone would have worn masks, we wouldn’t have to face months and months of this.” That ship has sailed. I am learning of more and more people getting the virus. People I know personally. The families of people I know personally.

We went to the party and the family had placed signs on a table asking people to stay 6’ back. So, at one end, you have the young mommies and daddies with their little ones...all congregating around the pizza and the cake and the presents. At the other end, you had the grandmas and the grandpa and the family members that practice social distancing. Which was just fine. We visited at a distance and had masks to put on if someone sat a little too close.

What went through my mind was...the birthday boy is a year old now and I haven’t held him since February. Our great-granddaughter is almost three. She knows now which grandparents can’t hold her so she’s stop asking for cuddles. The baby is six months old now and doesn’t know who we are. It breaks my heart.

I look back over the photos in my iPad at times when social isolation and masks were something that they did in Hong Kong during SARS....not here. It’s getting to be hard to imagine going someplace with the freedom we had BC (before Covid). I try not to dwell on it, but it’s increasingly hard not to.

It helps tremendously to think of what’s above and not what’s here on earth. This is not my home in the end. I am just passing through here and there is a home in heaven with my name on it. This is God’s promise to me. The Bible tells us we will have troubles here. It’s just the nature of life here on earth.

I fill my days, though. Lands...I don’t have hardly a moment to call my own these days. After the birthday party, we stopped for a burger on the way home. Then Mr. FixIt suggested we take a ride out this country road to where there were a lot of nurseries at one time. One of my cousins told us they are selling tomatoes and other produce in front of a couple of “high tunnels”...greenhouses that look like a Quonset hut.

There was a table set up out front, under a folding canopy, laden with the most beautiful tomatoes you can imagine. There were peppers and cucumbers, too. There was a price list and it was all on the honor system. We don’t need tomatoes as ours are just beginning to ripen. And, they didn’t have green beans, which is what I’m looking for. So we didn’t purchase anything.

I can’t believe it is Sunday again...it just seems like yesterday. The time seems to be flying by...which I suppose is a good thing, given all the circumstances. Still, I really feel like we need to really feel the feels that go along with this crisis or we will miss the lessons we can learn from it. It’s easy to stay present when it’s a pleasant experience. Not so much when things are rough.

Maybe we will appreciate our freedoms more once this is all over.

❤️

“Think about what is up there, not about what is here on earth.”
Colossians 3:2 CEV

Day 129: Rock of Ages

Sat, 25 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I finished cleaning the kitchen yesterday and put away the canning paraphernalia for a few days, then headed to the farm. My Uncle “Dudley” was going to be there by 4:00 to cut up the limbs on the tree that came down and fix a few things, so I wanted to be there and have an apple pie baking in the oven when he arrived. I pulled into the drive and...there he was. Well, his truck was there. And the limbs were all cut and moved. I put the cooler in the kitchen and went to look for him.

The barn door was open so I knew he was happily rummaging around...seeing what he might find. I heard him humming as I walked up from the house.

“Uncle Dudley!” I called out to him.

“Virginia Lynne!” He hollered back.

“I thought you said you were going to be here at 4:00.” I gave him my sternest frownie face, which never fooled him.

“And so I shall!”

“You stinker...I was going to have a pie coming out of the oven when you walked in the door, but you ruined the whole thing!” I laughed at him and so wanted to get the big bear hug I always get when we see each other.

His name is Gerald, but they call him Bud. “Buddy Boy” when he was growing up. He was in high school when I was born...my mother’s youngest brother. There’s only him and one sister left of the six children....the first stillborn. My mom was the oldest. So we are only about fifteen years apart. The same distance between my two daughters.

I’ve always felt a kindred spirit with my uncle. I am mechanically minded and he loved to teach me how to do things when I was growing up. I’ve learned so much from him. He looks exactly like my Pop Pop and he makes me smile. Always.

As I sat in my grandma’s chair peeling Granny Smith apples for the pie, the electric was off and he was on the porch working. Sometimes he’d go downstairs to look for a tool or stop for a drink. But while he worked, he hummed a tune. Soft and low. I couldn’t make it out at first. Then, suddenly...I recognized it.

Rock of Ages.

My mind immediately swept me back to my childhood to a hot summer Sunday, fresh home from church. Grandma sitting in this very spot, peeling potatoes for supper. Or maybe stringing beans or shucking corn. I would sit on a little stool beside her and “help”. She told me stories and we talked about what I learned in Sunday school. And, in the silence in between, she would softly hum Rock of Ages as she worked the paring knife with deft precision.

I smiled with the memory as I came back to the present. My uncle is in his early eighties now. I put the pie in the oven and walked out to join him, wiping my hands on a dishtowel. We grabbed a cold drink and sat down to cool off on the front porch. There, we sat for a good hour, softly talking about this and that. Mostly about our mutual love for the farm. He would sell the farm to me...and I would buy it in a heartbeat. If I were only thirty years younger and it didn’t need so much work. The water isn’t good for anything but cleaning. The next tree that falls could take the house with it. It’s got pretty good bones, but it’s the original metal roof from a hundred years ago. No...I would just be borrowing trouble if I bought the old place. As long as he lives, I will still have access to the place. I know my time there is finite.

My cousins came over. Mr. FixIt got there after Physical Therapy. We got the electric back on. I fed the boys. We all had pie on the front porch and sat till long after dark telling stories. We said our Appalachian goodbyes...

“Welp...I’d better be gittin’ on.”

“Are you sure I can’t get you a piece of pie?”

“Oh, no...I’m fine. Hey, did I tell you about..............”

Twenty minutes later, there’s a lag in the conversation.

“Ok, I really gotta git.”

“Oh, hey...have you ever heard that story about.......... Honey, you tell him. You tell it so much better than me.”

Thirty minutes later.....

You get my drift.

I showed my uncle where to turn on the dehumidifier when he leaves today. I asked him to turn off the water at the toilet and turn on the front porch light. And don’t forget to lock up. I left him the rest of the pie.

“I’d hug you...but I can’t.”

He smiled that smile...Pop Pop’s smile...and winked. “I wish you could too, shug.”

*Shug...short for sugar. Grandma always called her loved ones, shug. She also called me Pet.”

I climbed in the truck and backed out on the country lane and toot-tooted the horn as I pulled away. I turned off the AC and rolled down the windows. I smiled as I felt the warm velvet night air and hummed...

Rock of Ages, cleft for me...let me hide myself in Thee...

It was a very good day.

❤️

“All of them also ate the same spiritual food and drank the same spiritual drink, which flowed from the spiritual rock that followed them. That rock was Christ.”
1 Corinthians 10:3-4 CEV

Day 125: Don’t Forget to Thank a Teacher

Tue, 21 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

There’s a fine line between sticking your head in the sand and just stepping away a little bit. Admittedly, I’ve been more invested in the news lately than what I am necessarily comfortable with. I write about stepping away. I write about the merits of news fasts from time to time. And, like most people, I don’t always practice what I preach.

I woke up yesterday morning and did my usual...I greeted Mr. FixIt with the usual “Good Morning” and “How did you sleep?” We chat a few moments, wake up a little bit, then reach for our phones. I read my devotionals in the evenings, so my morning routine is typically news, weather, social media, blog. Not necessarily in that order.

The first thing I saw on Facebook yesterday was this editorial cartoon on Daughter #1’s page. She is a teacher. There was a story with it about teachers protecting their students. It made me cry. Ugly cry. I haven’t ugly cried in a long time, but this one has been building up. Daughter #1 is a teacher. Her daughters are teenagers. They are preparing to go back to school...and it scares me to death.

I’ve been a trooper through this whole pandemic. I’ve held it together and sacrificed my time with my kids and camping on my own and with my husband. Never cried. But this reduced me to a quivering mass of mom mess. It came out of the blue. Like the early waves of grief. Hard and unexpected. At the same moment, Hubby #2 sent me and our girls an article from the New York Times.

Since I had them all in one place, so to speak, I took the opportunity to tell them I am worried about school resuming. I told them how much I love them. The response was predictable. Daughter #2...my “mini me”...responded with emotion. Daughter #1 and their dad were much more pragmatic. Take precautions. Be smart. Stay home if you can. My daughter agreed it was scary, but they’d be fine. The “love you” from both girls was most appreciated.

It’s so hard to be away from my girls right now. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them, and my brother. I really am going to have to go on a little news fast, though. It’s just overwhelming after a while. I did make a big batch of pepperoni rolls yesterday. They are West Virginia’s State Food. Here’s the recipe I used and they turned out pretty good. Still not the perfect ones yet, but I’ll keep trying.

❤️

“After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry.”
Matthew 4:2 NIV

Day 120: Snakes, Frogs, and Dragonflies

Thu, 16 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Last summer, I told you a funny story. Well, sorta funny. I was working in that little camper I bought last spring. Remember? The one that fell apart when I got to Colorado? Yeah...that was an expensive lesson. Anyway, I was working in the camper and Mr. FixIt was spraying around the house foundation for ants. We had a horrible time with ants last year.

I told Mr. FixIt I’d be done soon and then we’d put the steak on the grill for supper. I heard him yelling so I stuck my head out the door.

“We’re you saying something?”

“Steak!”

“Yes, honey...steak. We’re having steak for supper.”

“No...Steak!”

“Steak?”

“STEAK!!!”

I climbed down out of the camper and started walking toward him. “Well, for crying out loud, sweetheart...if you want it now, go start the grill!”

“Look! SNAKE!!!”

Hokey Smokes!

“Where???”

“It was right here...but now I don’t see it.

“What kind of snake?”

“I think it was a copperhead!”

Great...poisonous. I have to say...I’m 67 years old and I have never seen a poisonous snake to my knowledge, but a snake is a snake. So let’s get this one.

We walked around the corner of the house where he saw the snake and it was indeed gone. However, there was this hole...in the side of the house...where the old door was before they boarded it up when they converted the garage into the family room. A hole! In MY house...where a snake has taken up residence as I sit a few feet away on the sofa!

Every since then, when I walk around the corner of the house, I look for that snake. The generator is sitting over there. I imagine the snake is hiding under the tarp that covers it to keep the rain and road dust off. I picture it reaching out and biting me every time I walk by. Every. Single. Time. I avoid that corner of the house as often as possible.

Until Tuesday. I had to refill the hummingbird feeder that hangs out in front of the kitchen window. So, I had to walk past...the hole. And there...on the sidewalk...in front of the hole...was a snake skin.

The creature has grown!

It has shed its skin because it is getting bigger. Wonderful.

I went in and said, “Ummmm, would you mind coming out here for a moment?”

Mr. FixIt dutifully plodded along after me.

“Look.”

I pointed, accusingly. As if somehow it was his fault he hadn’t filled that hole about a hundred years ago.

“There’s nothing that says that snake was actually IN that hole.”

Oh, yeah?

I reached down and picked it up, gave it a little tug...and...it was stuck on something INSIDE the hole!

My brain started racing. Was is hung up on a nail or a board? Or...was it still attached to the snake???

Oy.

I have no idea...and I’m not getting down in there to find out. I was thinking I could dust the area around the hole with flour and then I could see if the creature is going in and out. Or, I could take a sledgehammer to the wall and see if there’s a whole nest of vipers in there.

Or, I can avoid that side of the house for the rest of my life. I’m not usually afraid of snakes, but when I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not...AND I don’t know if there is some passageway between that hole and the interior where I sit...I am, how shall I say? Uneasy.

So, I’ll turn my attention to the other critters of the Ponderosa that I caught sight of this week.

A tiny little toad and a beautiful dragonfly with windowpane wings. And we’ll just leave the snake for another day.

❤️

“In the end it bites like a snake and poisons like a viper.” (Ok...I know they’re talking about wine here, but still...)
Proverbs 23:32 NIV

Day 118: The Books from Beyond

Tue, 14 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I have a mystery. But it has a backstory you need to hear first.

If you’ve been following me for some time, you know I moved to West Virginia from Colorado to care for my elderly aunt who was living alone on the family farm. We tried it out for ten rather long and, dare I say, miserable weeks for both of us. She was a strong willed, independent woman who expected you to do what she said, when she said it. I’m not the type to take orders well, so when she invited me to leave on Christmas Day, I took myself on a totally different adventure for the following couple of years.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but Aunt Peeps was slipping into the netherworld of dementia which caused her to lose what little bit of a filter she had to begin with. Still, I had wonderful conversations with her over the years. If she liked you, she would do anything to help you achieve your dreams. She admired hard work and perseverance. She was a teacher...erudite and proper.

I remember when I was very young, she came to visit with photographs from Cleveland and Washington, DC. Grainy black and white snapshots depicting water fountains and lunch counters with signs over them that said “Whites Only”. I didn’t understand what that meant and she carefully explained racism to me in words a little girl might comprehend. She was quite adamant...as was my grandma...that we never, ever treat other’s differently. We are all God’s children.

I grew up poor. Not dirt poor. Not welfare poor. But we didn’t have a lot of extras and ate from grandma’s garden quite a bit. I married my high school boyfriend and escaped what I felt at the time was the hell of West Virginia. When that marriage failed, I ended up marrying a young physical therapist who was heading into medical school. As our affluence increased, we rose higher and higher on the white privilege scale. Five years after that marriage ended, I met Mr. Virgo. He had worked his entire career in the hospitality industry at numerous Five Star resorts and restaurants around the world. So I was still in the realm of privilege. I had a housekeeper and a full length blue fox coat and a new car every couple of years.

I don’t believe I’ve ever been overtly racist, but there were many years where I just didn’t really give the struggles of ethnic communities much thought. And that is the essence of what is referred to as white privilege. With the onset of civil unrest over racial disparities, I have taken it upon myself to learn as much as I can on the subject so that I can better understand the plight of People of Color. I want to be a better human.

After Aunt Peeps died, my uncle came to the farm to get some of her papers that he needed to settle her estate. These papers were in boxes in the closet upstairs in her bedroom. The next time I was out there, I went upstairs and there were a few items on the bed. There was also a day bed up there with several boxes of my own things. I didn’t notice anything of any import that day.

Last weekend, when I was out there working on the taxes, it was so bloody hot and the air conditioner was not working. I went upstairs to turn the fan on in the bedroom opposite hers. As I was coming back out of the room to the top of the stairs, I glanced into Aunt Peeps’ room and noticed something I hadn’t seen before. There were two books laying neatly stacked on the pillow. I would have sworn they weren’t there before.

I went in and picked up the books and my jaw dropped.

“The Autobiography of Malcom X” by Alex Haley.

“Black Boy” by Richard Wright.

Two seminal literary works about the black experience in this country. Not at all the kind of books I saw my aunt reading as I grew up or when I lived with her. And certainly not anything I had ever seen there before. Where did they come from? Who placed them so carefully where I would be sure to find them? I have no idea. But I picked them up and smiled, tucked them neatly under my arm, and have set a goal to read them both to better understand.

Ever the educator. Ever the fair-minded yet fierce educator. I believe my Aunt Peeps left me a gift...exactly the gift I needed at exactly the right time.

She teaches...still.

❤️

“For God does not show favoritism.”
Romans 2:11 NIV

Day 116: It’s Marshmallow Season!

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

MARSHMALLOWS!

It won’t be long before these tasty treats will be showing up in farmer’s markets everywhere, because....Marshmallows are in Season!!! That’s what Daughter #1 told her little sister when she was about four years old. They grow them big like this, then they cut them up in little pieces, put them in bags, and ship them off to stores. The weather has to be just right to get a bumper crop like this one. I was driving out to the farm yesterday, came around the turn...and there they were. Oh, there is NOTHING like fresh, vine-ripened marshmallows!

I’ll bet you never heard of the Great Marshmallow Disaster of 1957. I guess it rained so much that summer the marshmallows just floated off down stream. And the ones they were able to salvage were a sticky mess. It was terrible. Little campers everywhere had to eat nothing but graham crackers and chocolate...poor dears. I believe they were scarred for life over that one.

I can’t drive through the West Virginia countryside without pulling over and capturing them in their native habitat. When they’re wild like this is when they’re the sweetest. I’m thinking we should grow them here on our acreage and have an Annual Marshmallow Festival! What do you think?

After my breathtaking discovery, I went to the farm and finally finished the taxes. I really struggled with them Friday. Then, after sleeping on it, I woke up yesterday morning and knew what to do. I just chucked Friday’s return and started over with a brand new one yesterday. And, wouldn’t you know it...I breezed right through the whole thing and it was easy peasy. Last year we had to pay out the nose. This year, we still had to pay a little, but nothing like last year’s...so I was a VERY happy camper when I hit “send”.

Every year, I tell myself I will be ahead of the game. I’ll have things organized. And, every year it’s the same thing. I spend days doing the online banking, reconciling the books, running reports, and finally getting the data in TurboTax...just under the wire. It’s stressful. But, I think the getting mad at myself for not being more organized makes it worse. Next year, I’m just going to accept the fact that I have far more important things to do all year than to stay anal about the whole thing. A couple of years ago, I created the most organized thing I will ever achieve surrounding taxes. I place a big, flat Rubbermaid container with a lid on my desk. Then, whenever I walk in with something that has to do with taxes, it immediately goes in that tub. At least everything is in one place when tax time comes around. That’s the best I can do.

I’ll miss being out at the farm every day. I always love being out there. Since we made the commitment to have a cat and a garden, we really can’t run off and stay for any length of time at the farm. But, maybe when the garden is done, we can go out for a few days. We’ll take the cat...it’ll be an adventure!

Now that the taxes are done, I can turn my attention to the garden. I have a few crook neck and zucchini squash I am keeping an eye on. I want them to get really big so I can make Bread & Butter pickles out of them. That’s the BEST!

I’ll be baking today after church. I’m sending my girls some of mama’s sourdough bread tomorrow.

Enjoy your Sunday!

❤️

“I think you should finish what you started. If you give according to what you have, you will prove you are as eager to give as you were to think about giving.”
2 Corinthians 8:11 CEV

Day 115: Seeing Things in a Different Light

Sat, 11 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I went out to the farm again yesterday because our internet went out...again! Another call to Frontier...another scheduled visit from a tech. The last time he told us there was nothing more he could do for us and we really don’t have much of a choice out here. We are paying for something we aren’t getting so we’re going to have to have a little chit chat with the business office next week.

As I sat in my grandma’s chair and looked out her window, I couldn’t help but wonder how she would have handled this unprecedented event. My grandma didn’t have a bad word to say about anyone, but she also didn’t suffer a fool. If you crossed her or stepped out of your lane, she was darn quick to let you know about it. She did it with great finesse.

There seems to be a perfect storm of sorts right now and people are having a hard time being civil with one another. It’s always been worse on social media because the bullies are used to hiding behind a screen. There’s a new twist now...now it’s spilled over into the every day world. My friend Aimee was over it yesterday. She posted a rant about treating people with respect...and that includes the people in service industries...especially young people working for minimum wage. I am so proud my husband was gentle with the girl that served him without a mask or gloves. There are some who would have gone on a full out meltdown. Another friend, Gail, said she was over all this name calling and angry outbursts at each other.

I know this is a difficult time. I have been busy hiding ugly posts from sources I never want to see again. I’ve caught myself getting testy with people from time to time. It’s just all so overwhelming, but there is no excuse for abhorrent behavior. I don’t want to be part of the problem. I want to be part of the change...the movement back toward goodness and kindness. I want to be an example of love and light. I want to be more like Jesus in everything I do.

Today is Daughter #1’s birthday. It’s the first one I have missed in a very long time and I am saddened by that. Forty-six years I’ve been a mother. She and I grew up together...we learned together. I swear, I have no idea how she survived my parenting because I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I raised her in Colorado...far from my mom and my grandma. For a while, it was just the two of us. Those were some of the most difficult days of my life...being a single mother with a preschooler....far, far from home. At the same time, they were our foundation. It’s how she became a rock. She had no choice but to be strong. It was a survival skill. Anyway, I miss her terribly. I miss all my Colorado peeps.

We had a heck of a storm blow through here last evening. Everything turned this incredible yellowy, pinkish orange color and the rain just poured. It didn’t last long, but it surely gave the ground a nice drink. Our earth is so parched, cracks are forming. The rain came down so hard it couldn’t even go in the gutters...it just flew over the top of them.

Today won’t be quite so hot which will be a welcome break. Maybe the internet will work long enough to make some headway on these taxes. Time is running out.

❤️

“Don't be hateful to people, just because they are hateful to you. Rather, be good to each other and to everyone else.”
1 Thessalonians 5:15 CEV

Day 112: The Birds and The Bees

Wed, 08 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I had a little break yesterday when Mr. FixIt went to physical therapy without me. I worked on the taxes a little...till the internet went out again. The service tech was just here on Friday and put in new wiring and a new router. Ten minutes after he left, the internet went down again. It comes and goes. I can’t seem to figure out why. I hope he can because he’s coming back today to take another stab at it.

I puttered around the garden and tied up the tomatoes. It is amazing how fast they have taken off and how heavy they have become. They are becoming heavy laden with nice green tomatoes. I’m certain we’ll be canning tomatoes this summer! The little raccoon that’s been after our bird feeder managed to knock it down during the night so I set out the live trap to see if I can catch it and deliver it somewhere far, far away from here.

When I was finished in the garden, I headed back inside. The yard inside the fence hasn’t been mowed this week and it is full of clover. And wherever you have clover, you have honeybees. I was walking everywhere barefoot, not a care in the world. Then, I suddenly thought, “Oh, I’d better be careful or I’m going to get stung!” And....BAM! I felt that sharp, electrical shock of pain go through my foot. I looked down and I didn’t actually see a bee, but I assume that’s what it was. It’s been ages since I had a bee sting and I felt like a dolt for not wearing my shoes when I knew better. But, hey...I’m a West Virginia girl. We don’t wear shoes when we don’t have to!

I mixed up some pie crust and set it in the fridge to chill while I peeled some Granny Smith apples and had a pie ready to pop in the oven when Mr. FixIt came home. As soon as it was done and the news was over, I went out to help him put some more stakes in for the last of the tomatoes. We watered the garden and called it a day.

I consider it a good day indeed when you can eat hot apple pie with whipped cream for supper. Farm livin’ is the life for me...bee stings and all!

❤️

“So if you faithfully obey the commands I am giving you today—to love the Lord your God and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul— then I will send rain on your land in its season, both autumn and spring rains, so that you may gather in your grain, new wine and olive oil. I will provide grass in the fields for your cattle, and you will eat and be satisfied.”
Deuteronomy 11:13-15 NIV

Day 111: Priorities

Tue, 07 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

It was nearly 90℉ by 10:30 yesterday morning. I knew I needed to get the mowing finished soon or it would have to wait till evening again. The risk of waiting is the sudden thunderstorms that often crop up when it gets this hot outside. The humidity works like an old fashioned coffee percolator. The heat causes the moisture to rise and percolate up through the cooler air above, causing those tall storm clouds and resultant downpours. Once that starts, mowing is done for the day. The longer you stretch out mowing, the less of a break you get before it’s time to get out on the mower again.

I was finished by around 1:00 and came inside to rehydrate and sit in the air conditioning. Our AC runs constantly at this time of year. It was set at 73 and couldn’t get the house below 80. I went out for a swim. Believe me, the water is not refreshing when it’s 91℉ and the air temp is 96. But it was wet and I cleaned the pool and getting out was refreshing when the breeze caught me. As I sat down to write this, I sent Mr. FixIt a text at the other end of the house and asked him when was the last time he changed the air filter on the whole house air conditioner. He went downstairs and changed it, stating it was pretty dirty. Soon after, the house cooled down a great deal and we were both a lot more comfortable.

As I was writing this, notifications kept pinging on my phone. One came across and stopped me in my tracks. It seems an NFL quarterback just signed a ten year extension with his team for $500,000,000. That’s a lot of zeroes to throw a ball around. I got to thinking about what could be done with that kind of money. That would build about 19 really good schools. Or, buy 500,000 iPads for classrooms. Or build 3,333 Habitat for Humanity houses. Or provide 192,307,692 school lunches. Instead, it will go to one man who will throw a ball to other men who are paid to catch it and run. And children in this country go to bed hungry at night. Where is our outrage on that? I shake my head at the priorities of today. Call it Covid Consciousness...but I think there are a lot better places for money to be thrown than professional sports. Is that un-American of me? Mr. Virgo would have thought so. He was quite the football freak. Go, Eagles!

Our governor came out with a mandate yesterday. Masks will be worn in all public buildings in West Virginia. Our pastor came online and said rather than to bow to that, they will go back to online only church. Fine...whatever works and keeps people healthy. It wasn’t five minutes and Facebook lit up with all the protests of rights being infringed upon. I honestly just don’t get it. It really is such a simple thing to do.

To quote Gov. Justice: “Just wear the dang mask, people. C’mon!”

❤️

“Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you.”
Hebrews 13:17 ESV

Day 110: Ask Not What Your Country Can Do For You...

Mon, 06 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I was just a child when President Kennedy uttered those famous words. I am not a strong student of the political climate of the early ‘60s, but I do know the times were changing...much as they are now. But, the big difference is...we are a more divided nation now, I think. Everything seems to be pitting us against one another, driving a wedge between us. But, is it really? Or is that the illusion? Is that what the enemy wants you to believe? And, by the enemy, I am NOT pointing to anyone politically. I am referring to THE enemy...the ULTIMATE enemy.

I’m not sure there is any issue more blatantly representative of this politicization than face masks. For some unknown-to-me reason, there is a huge faction of our populace who think being asked to wear a face mask is akin to denying us our inalienable rights. I don’t know about you and where you stand on the issue. And I’m not bringing this up to start a fight or to invite controversy. I’m just making an observation that there seem to be two camps...those that will wear them and those who refuse, for whatever reason.

There are plenty of graphics around that show the benefits of wearing a mask and how it can help keep down the spread of Covid-19. If you’ve been following me for any length of time, you may remember I wrote early on that there would come a time in this when people would deny what they saw with their own eyes and would rebel. And it seems we are in the midst of that these last couple of weeks.

Wearing a mask is such a simple thing to do. It’s a sign of mutual respect to try to keep others from getting sick. I know, there are a very few who cannot physically wear the masks because of COPD or asthma or some underlying medical issue. But, for the most part, it will not hurt us to wear a mask when we are out and about. We will not die from carbon dioxide poisoning. I know, I know...I’m opening a can of worms here. But I have spent long days wearing masks and I have not dropped dead from it. Neither have the surgeons and anesthesiologists and nurses who wear them for hours at a time, day in and day out.

People don’t seem to understand what is coming out of our mouths. I get it. It’s hard to understand the water droplets and how they travel and carry the virus along with them. I’m a visual person, too. I need to see a demonstration or try things out myself. I am a hands on learner. And, when I saw this picture posted yesterday, I knew...this is the teaching tool that might finally make people understand.

When we go out in the cold in the winter time, we all are very familiar with what happens to our breath. We exhale a cloud out into the cold air with every breath we breathe out. And that cloud is the water droplets that carry the coronavirus. If you are outside, standing six feet away from each other, the chance of breathing in someone else’s “cloud” is reduced. However, if you are standing in a crowded place indoors with little air filtration, your “cloud” and my “cloud are going to mix with all the other “clouds” within a certain radius.

Now, that’s with just basic breathing. Add alcohol, a crowded bar, loud music and shouting to be heard over it...folks leaning in to catch what you said. You’ve just amped up that little conversational “cloud” into a big, bad storm “cloud”. Or, you’re standing in lines to get into a crowded restaurant. Or, you’re in a crowded shopping situation. This is why the folks going to the beach are spreading the virus faster than those who marched in any of the protests out of doors...because they spent a good amount of time interacting with others in restaurants, bars, and shopping.

This brings up the subject of singing...including in church. You actually CAN sing with a mask on. And if you can’t, then be sure you are maintaining social distance. And if you can’t, then...either don’t sing, or stay home and watch online. It’s not forever. It’s not permanent. It’s just for now...for a little while longer. And it’s not trying to take away your rights. Do you think Jesus would risk making others sick? I have to think he would be fine with us being our brother’s keeper and...you know...putting others above ourselves.

If neither of us wear a mask, our risk of infecting others or being infected ourselves is at its highest. If we both stay indoors away from everyone, our risk is at its lowest. Somewhere in between the two is where we have to live in the coming months until either the virus morphs into something less infectious, or there is a trusted vaccine or treatment. The kindest and most recommended place to stand on that spectrum is to accept the minor inconvenience of wearing a mask so we CAN get back to normal faster. Europeans did it, and look at their numbers.

You wear a seat belt. You put your babies in car seats. You don’t eat food off the floor of a bathroom in a New York subway. You stop at stop signs. Being asked to wear a mask is no more an infringement on your rights than any of these other things. We all have the right to live and our best chance to do that is to be careful as best we can. If you don’t have a mask, let me know...I’ll make sure you get one.

So, that’s my soapbox for the day. I know all the arguments. I think I’ve heard every one of them...many times. This is just me, asking you to be careful and stay healthy so that we ALL can be free after they get a handle on this. ‘Cause...I love y’all!

❤️

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
Philippians 2:4 ESV

Day 107: The Mother-Daughter Dance...Take 2

Thu, 02 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

1992

On this day last year, I arrived in Colorado to spend a month with my kids and grandkids and to visit my brother. We were preparing for my younger daughter’s wedding and there were lots of fun activities and visits planned. I wrote on July 2, 2019 about the dance mothers and daughters do and how my relationships with my daughters have evolved and healed over the years.

Yesterday, after a very full and busy afternoon, I sat by the pool and had a long video chat with Daughter #1. We no sooner hung up when Daughter #2 called and she and I also had a long visit. It seems last year was a turning point in our relationship. We bonded over a family event. Then, as Covid struck, they started contacting me more and more often. For the first time in a long time, I am enjoying a mutually loving and supportive mother-daughter relationship with both of my girls and I couldn’t be happier.

They are so different which is made more noticeable by their sixteen year age difference. Daughter #1 reminded me her oldest is the same age she was when we had Daughter #2. I laughed and said, “Yeah...it’s a different ballgame now, isn’t it?” It’s so wonderful to have them at an age where they can look back and say, “Ahhhhh....so THAT’S what was going on with Mom back then!” Having only two children sixteen years apart was....challenging, to say the least.

Anyway, when I got off the phone with them, my heart was melting and soaring into the stratosphere at the same time. I miss them dreadfully and we talked about that. About how the times have changed and we all have to be responsible adults and put off our visit this summer. This will be the first year I can remember that I haven’t spent time with them.

And...we’ve never felt closer. It’s funny what the Covid Crisis has accomplished that all these years of mothering couldn’t. It’s the perfect storm...in a very, very good way.

To read last year’s post, follow this link: https://www.marshmallowranch.com/the-mother-daughter-dance/

❤️

“Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.”
Proverbs 22:6 NIV

Day 106: Tipping the Scale

Wed, 01 Jul 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Oh....it’s July. I feel like we should be peeking around the corner very carefully...you know, just in case it’s a trap!

So, I went to the doctor yesterday. All the usual precautions...wear a mask, don’t arrive more than fifteen minutes before your appointment, practice social distancing, no one can come with you. No problem...this was my “Great Escape”....my master plan for getting a few hours on my own.

They took my temp, asked me the questions...Have you traveled outside the country in the past fourteen days? I wish! Have you had a fever, cough, or difficulty breathing? Nope. Have you been around anyone diagnosed with Covid-19? No, I haven’t been around anyone but Mr. FixIt since February...that’s why I’m at the doctor ALONE! I feel kinda like I did the first time my last child went to school. Yippeeeeee!

Lorri called me back and we exchanged the usual pleasantries. She finally got a little time off. My feet and legs aren’t hurting as much. She’s been having some neck pain. I’ve been trying to get three hours to myself. You know...girl stuff. Then...she took me down the hall...to the dreaded scale.

Now, if you have been reading this blog at all for the last four months, you know that I have been obsessed with baking. Sourdough, homemade pizza, tofu, biscuits, English muffins, jam, apple pie, yoghurt. Comfort foods like fried potatoes and cookies and grilled cheese. Outings for ice cream. Hokey smokes...I’ve been doing the walk of shame from the refrigerator to the recliner for months! I was really, REALLY dreading this. But...what can you do? It’s gotta be done, I suppose.

I was shocked.

I gained one pound. Sixteen little ounces!

Dodged a bullet there.

During my seven or so hours on my own, I went to Sam’s and Walmart and the Post Office. I stopped and got Mr. FixIt a drink and waited outside PT for the last five minutes so I could give it to him. I mean, I was driving right by...and I knew he would appreciate a cold drink after they worked him hard in there. Yeah...I’m such a softie. What can I say...I love the big lug!

While I was out driving around, I was still trying to figure out what went wrong with my sourdough on Monday. I went through all the steps trying to figure out what was different when it struck me. The last time I bought unbleached flour, it was the the only kind they had at the Piggly Wiggly...the store brand. Cheap, yes...but who knows how old or what quality it was or even if it really WAS unbleached. You have to used unbleached flour or the wild yeasts are killed by the residual chlorine in the flour. As I was thinking back, I realized the last couple of weeks, my sourdough starter hasn’t been as robust as it had been. That had to be it. I bought some King Arthur’s Unbleached All Purpose Flour at the store, came home, and fed the starter and...BAM! Bubbly and active. I love science!

Once the groceries were put away, I spent over an hour out in the pool. Now...that was heavenly! It was 90℉ and sticky humid. I vacuumed and skimmed the pool and floated around and gazed upon my surroundings. God and I had a long talk and I apologized that I hadn’t been spending enough time with him of late. I thanked him for every single thing I set my eyes on. And then...I thanked him so much for giving me the greatest guy a gal could ever want when he set Mr. FixIt in my path.

Seven little hours. One little pound.

It was a really great day.

❤️

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.”
Psalms 51:10-12 NIV

Day 104: A Day of Introspection & Praying for Karen

Mon, 29 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I finished all the mowing on Saturday so I didn’t have anything on my schedule but online church yesterday. I puttered around in the garden. I watered all the tomato plants with the epsom salt solution. I trimmed some wild growth along the back fence that’s threatening the garden with too much shade. There’s a deer wandering around with a bum leg and I checked on her. She seems to be eating and getting to the water in the creek ok so I’m just going to watch her for awhile. I fed the sourdough starter and made a great supper. We ate out on the deck which was lovely. Then took a long walk around the property. I wanted to show Mr. FixIt a fruit tree I found along the edge of the field. It looks like a peach. Or maybe a cherry. No fruit, though.

I watched CBS Sunday Morning yesterday with my coffee. They did a story on the memes that have been out about the “Karens” of the world...typically white middle-aged housewives who are prone to ask to speak to the manager. I’ve worked in hospitality and in medicine and lived near Aspen for years. I’m quite familiar with the type of privilege this embodies.

I wondered where they would take this with the videos of women (and men) behaving badly and I was glad to see the turn it took at the end. My job at the hotels I worked at was to deal with disgruntled guests. Disgruntled guests who had dropped a bundle of money to stay where they were staying. I myself have had to speak to managers before, but I can guarantee I never threw a hissy fit the likes of which would scare any preschooler straight.

It’s difficult to deal with this kind of person in general. Back when I dealt with them, cell phones with video cameras weren’t around yet. I can imagine seeing someone tape you acting a fool is comparable to throwing gasoline on an open flame. Do we really think trying to shame them by splashing their less than flattering behaviors all over the internet is going to change them? Or is it just bringing us down to their level using their meltdown for some sort of amusement...sort of like watching a train wreck?

My answer when dealing with them directly was to find a common ground and appeal to their sense of fairness. That was then. We’ve unleashed an entirely new beast now. Let’s just say, I am really glad I’m not working in customer service anymore. Now I just pray for them that they somehow see themselves more honestly. That they “wake up”.

A friend shared a video taken in a local park. A young black man and his father got out of their car to walk and a man walking a dog stopped and stared at them. Then he started saying terrible things to them...racial slurs and worse. The young man told his dad this was his first experience with racism. The dad said he had never seen it this bad. It broke my heart that this was in my home town.

I feel like I’m living in the Twilight Zone. It’s like we’re living in the Civil War, the Civil Rights Era, Watergate, and the Ten Plagues...all at once. Add health issues and the extra chores and the heat and no “me time” and I’m getting downright cranky.

My only answer now is prayer. Lots and lots of prayer.

Oh...and skinny dipping in the dark.

That’s good for the soul.

You can see the CBS Sunday Morning story here: https://www.cbsnews.com/news/faith-salie-on-the-term-karen/

❤️

“Don’t grumble against one another, brothers and sisters, or you will be judged. The Judge is standing at the door!”
James 5:9 NIV

Day 103: Duty, a Dip, and Date Night

Sun, 28 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

After my morning coffee, Mr. FixIt was on the phone when I walked by, blew him a kiss, and went out to mow. It was pretty hot out there, but I have learned how to mow with one hand and hold a huge golf umbrella with the other. I have to wear a mask because of all the allergens that get stirred up, so it’s kind of stuffy and sticky out there. I’ve figured out how to hold the umbrella just right to catch any hint of a breeze which makes the chore so much easier.

I was just about finished with the two big fields when I saw my sweetheart come out and start with the push mower. He mowed around the areas I couldn’t reach with the big riding mower. Then he got the weed eater out and trimmed around the yard as I took up the push mower inside the fenced yard. I kept one eye on my work and the other to make sure Mr. FixIt didn’t overdo in the heat, but he did great. It was a good day.

He feels bad when he can’t do everything he did before, but he is gaining his strength and the confidence that comes with realizing he’s improving. I was talking with my cousin the other day. She asked how I was holding up. I told her I was doing great. I’m keeping really busy and that occupies my mind so it doesn’t go places it doesn’t need to go. Listen, I’d be lying if I said none of this has affected me. I would surely have loved having fifteen years of the fun stuff before we have to deal with the not so fun stuff of health issues. But, that’s not what happens in real life. Not when you marry at our age. The truth is, it doesn’t make a bit of difference if we were married a week or a year or two decades...you do what you need to do when circumstances change. It’s in the vows we took that day in our field...”to have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death I do part.” It is our sworn duty.

My duty is to do the things Mr. FixIt can’t right now. Just as he would do if the roles were reversed. One can whine about it. Or one can put on the big girl panties and get the job done. It’s a choice. I always choose joy and love. I mowed, watered the garden, and tied up the tomato plants. Easy peasy.

When we were finished with the hot and dusty work in the yard, we took a refreshing dip in the pool. It’s times like that when I can totally justify the extra work and expense the pool entails. We cleaned and skimmed and walked around while we talked and enjoyed a perfectly beautiful evening. I swam up to my man and said,

“Hey...how would you like to buy me dinner?”

He lit up like a Christmas tree. We decided on Italian, placed our order, then drove to town. As we were picking up our food, the leaden skies opened up into a downpour. We drove across the river and found a lovely parking spot where we could watch the boat traffic. We had our picnic in the rain...inside the truck. It seems to do that every date night, but it doesn’t dampen our enthusiasm.

We got home just before dark and walked around a bit, checking out the garden and the fruit trees. We don’t have a single pear this year. There were late frosts this spring and that took care of any hopes of a bountiful harvest like last year. We have onions and zucchini and crook neck squash setting on and several tomatoes are showing. There are teeny, tiny peppers starting to grow and the pumpkin plants are vining. I love watching a garden grow and this year I’m actually going to be here to enjoy it.

We came in and I fed my sourdough starter in preparation for baking today. As I was settling in to write this, I thought...”How many times and how many ways can I tell them I’m mowing and baking bread?” Spoiler alert: Many, many times!

❤️

““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

Day 94: But...What About MY Rights?

Fri, 19 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Masks. Jeez-o-Pete....there’s a subject that has become a tinderbox, hasn’t it? A lifelong friend who happened to spend her entire career as a nurse, shared some thoughts on her page yesterday encouraging people to wear masks to church. More and more outbreaks of Covid-19 are happening at churches that have opened back up. We watch our church online for health reasons, but when you watch...no one is wearing a mask. I spoke with friends who were there in person and they said maybe a handful of people were wearing them.

Our pastor spoke into the camera and welcomed those at home, then continued with his message to those in the room. He flat out said that we shouldn’t let them take our rights away and we should be in the room, worshipping together. He said, and I quote, “If you get sprayed on, you get sprayed on. So be it.” I was furious. I sent a well worded message to the powers that be and explained that it was wonderful to be welcomed and feel included...right up to the point where he essentially told us at home that we weren’t being faithful enough and relying on God to keep us safe. The following week, and every week since, the pastor has spoken into the camera and welcomed us watching from home and they were all looking forward to the day when we can all worship together. Big difference there. I sent another note thanking him for recognizing we cannot all come back into the building, especially when the majority are not wearing masks. It isn’t prudent.

When my friend posted about church, there was one man who declared “Faith over fear!” He chooses to go to church and worship as a Christian and the beauty of the whole thing is, we all get to make our own choices.

Well, I say...not so much.

If every member of the congregation wore masks, then yes...I would feel more comfortable about going to church. Your choice NOT to wear a mask makes my decision for me. And I’m not alone. There are many who simply cannot risk coming to church when masks aren’t being worn.

Someone spoke up and said, “Why churches? Why not Walmart?” Well, most churches aren’t as big and wide open as Walmart. And, you aren’t sitting/standing in one spot, shoulder to shoulder, with upwards of 400 people singing at the top of your lungs For an hour or more in a Walmart. The singing causes even more droplets of saliva to spray out from our mouths. If we are in close proximity for over an hour...the first 20 minutes of which are spent praising joyfully...we are guaranteed to share a whole lot of spit in the air around us. I’m not up for that.

During the influenza pandemic of 1918-1920, there were three phases of the outbreak. The initial outbreak was much like what we saw this spring. Most people were on board. They wore masks and socially distanced and washed hands. Then there was a waning of the virus. People were weary of staying inside and being told what to do. They didn’t want to wear masks anymore. They wanted to get outside and visit their friends and open their business back up. They wanted to go places and do things. Sound familiar?

What happened was exactly what we are seeing around us right now. They eased up. They went back out. They poo-pooed the whole thing. They called it a hoax. People blew it out of proportion, they said. You’re taking my rights, they shouted. We’re not going to take it anymore. And they didn’t. And 100 MILLION people died in the second phase.

They are asking you to wear a piece of cloth over your face. You can’t even do that for one hour so we can worship together? They aren’t asking you to give up a kidney or sacrifice your first born. It’s a mask. You use seatbelts. (Well, you should. If you don’t...that’s another issue.) You stop at stop signs. You don’t drive the wrong way on the interstate. You wear clothes when you go out. Are any of those “rules” asking you to sacrifice your civil liberties? You claim you have rights. You do...what but about me? I have rights, too. I have the right to go to church...just like you. Don’t take that right away from me because you cannot be bothered to wear a piece of cloth over your face for an hour.

We are sitting here watching history repeat itself...literally right in front of our eyes. Part of the price we pay for being human is to sacrifice some of our own comfort for the comfort of others. Are we so blind that we cannot see? Are we so selfish that we cannot care for our fellow man? What would Jesus do? He did not preach “every man for himself”.

So that’s my soapbox rant for the day.

Be kind.

Wear a mask.

It’s not forever, really...it just seems like it.

Be grateful it isn’t a ventilator.

❤️

(I tried to go back and find the FB page where I got this photo, but couldn’t find it.)

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
Philippians 2:4 ESV

How To Stop Fighting Your Negative Thoughts And Feelings

Mon, 15 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

You might think that with a blog named Little Blog of Positivity I'd be telling you ways to stop your negative thoughts and feelings.

Never one for going with what's expected of me though, I'm not going to do that!

You might spend a lot of time beating yourself up over what you should and shouldn't be doing. What you should and shouldn't be thinking.

Maybe you go on a downward spiral of negative thoughts and feelings and then beat yourself up for that happening?

You feel angry at yourself. Why can't you simply stop this from happening? After all type 'how to stop negative thoughts' into Google and a whole host of articles and books telling you how pop up.

No wonder we feel like failures when we can't stop the negative thoughts.

Here's the thing. It's PERFECTLY NORMAL to have negative thoughts and feelings.

What you may not know is that human beings are wired this way. It's built into our make up to look for threats and things which can go wrong. It's what's kept us safe for millennia! I'll let you into a secret - YOU CAN'T STOP THEM!

A problem occurs when we believe our negative thoughts and think they are true. Struggling and fighting the negative thoughts and feelings doesn't help either. It just makes you feel worse.

There IS A Better Way Than Fighting Negative Thoughts And Feelings

Instead of being hard on yourself for having negative thoughts and feelings, there is an alternative.

How about if you could SIMPLY NOTICE them and let them go without judging them or yourself?

No mind on earth with any kind of intelligence could spend a lifetime enjoying only happy thoughts. The key is in accepting your thoughts, all of them, even the bad ones. Accept thoughts, but don't become them. - Matt Haig, Reasons To Stay Alive.

You might think this sounds easier said than done and yes, it does take a bit of practice, but there are a number of techniques you can try.

Here are my 3 favourite ones.

Leaves On A Stream

Sit somewhere quiet where you won't be disturbed.

Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Bring your attention to your breathing for a couple of minutes.

Then turn your attention to the thoughts in your mind. Imagine you are sitting by a stream and there are a few leaves floating along it. Whenever a thought pops into your mind, place it on a leaf and watch it float off down the stream.

If you notice you've got caught up in a thought (or a chain of thoughts) then turn your attention back to the leaves, put each thought on a leaf and watch it float away.

You can also try this with clouds in the sky instead of leaves on a stream. I've found both work equally well!

Write Down And Then Challenge Your Negative Thoughts And Feelings

I find it particularly helpful to write in my journal when I'm caught in a negative spiral of thoughts and feelings. What I do is to write down how I feel and what thoughts are coming up for me.

Don't hold back at this stage, write it all out!

Then read back over what you've written. If it is mainly feelings you have written down, try and pinpoint what thoughts are coming up for you that are leading to those feelings.

Once you have your thoughts noted down, ask yourself what evidence you have that they are true. Oftentimes when you examine them, there will be very little evidence to support them! And yet we tend to believe our thoughts.

Even if the thought is true, or partly true, ask yourself how useful it is.

The next step is to reframe the thoughts. Try writing an alternative, more balanced thought down. Or if the thought feels true and is still bothering you, ask yourself whether things are within your control. And if so what actions you might be able to take.

Write it all down.

How do you feel now? Hopefully calmer and with a sense of increased clarity.

Trains Passing By

Another helpful exercise to get you into the habit of simply noticing your thoughts is to imagine them as trains passing through a station.

Again, it's a good idea to sit somewhere quiet to try this exercise.

Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths.

Then imagine you are on a station platform and trains are passing by. As you notice a thought arise, imagine the thought getting onto a train which has pulled into the station. Then watch as the train pulls away taking your thought with it.

You may notice that you've got on the train with the thought and have been carried off down the track. This might happen often. As soon as you notice, don't beat yourself up but jump off the train (it's alright it's imaginary so you won't get hurt!)

Return back to the station platform and carry on watching the trains.

How Do You Feel Now?

I hope that you've found these ideas and suggested exercises inspiring.

The next time an attack of negativity hits you, instead of beating yourself up I hope that you will remember reading this post and try out one of the exercises. We'd love to hear how you get on.

Author Bio

Alison is the founder of The Little Blog Of Positivity where she shares all she has learned on the topics of personal growth, self improvement, health and well-being.

For regular doses of inspiration and motivation, visit Alison at littleblogofpositivity.comYou can also connect with Alison on Twitter, Pinterest and Facebook

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 82: Mr. FixIt and His Cat

Sun, 07 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Pumpkin the kitty isn’t a kitten anymore, but she is still small...and feisty. She has never been a real snuggle bunny, although she will let you hold her till she decides it’s time to bite. Then you put her down in a hurry. Sometimes she stalks your feet and pounces as you walk by, giving you a solid chomp on the shin. Sometimes you don’t like her much, but most of the time she is tolerable and some of the time she is just too darned cute for words.

I’ve never been a huge “cat person”. I’m doing my best here with this one....but I must say, it’s for my husband’s benefit. He loves having an animal around. Pumpkin is Mr. FixIt’s cat and she follows him everywhere. When he drives to town to pick up his lottery tickets, she happily hops in the truck with him to go for a ride. Wherever he is, Pumpkin isn’t far away. She’s kinda like a dog in that way.

I was sitting in my recliner the other morning having coffee when Mr. FixIt headed out to the building to do some cleaning and organizing. I caught this picture of Pumpkin tagging along behind him as he headed out to work. The new tractor is still in the shop and when it comes back, it needs a good parking spot. We filled the old spot with tools brought home from a worksite, so we had to find more room.

We loaded up the truck to take some things to a family member and delivered it yesterday. It’s amazing what people find valuable and refuse to part with. Coming from a place where I have already gone through the downsizing project, it’s pretty hard to not just order a dumpster and toss stuff. I figure if we can clean out ten square feet at a time, we will make some serious headway before the snow falls. Fingers crossed.

I was working on a project the other day and needed something. I thought we would need to make yet another trip into town, but before we did, I asked if it was possible we had the item in the building. Mr. FixIt went right out and returned with exactly what I needed. Not only that, it was a brand new one! It’s like living with your own personal Home Depot out back! The only problem is...we need the night crew to do an inventory and get everything organized. Now, if we only HAD a night crew!

As much as I fuss about the lack of organization around here, I’m still happier than I’ve been in a very long time. So, maybe someday this will all be left to me and I’ll have to handle it. So what? I’d much rather enjoy my time with Mr. FixIt now rather than rag at him all the time to get the place cleaned up. There’s always time for cleaning up down the road. There may not be as much time for hugs and laughter. That’s the important stuff.

❤️

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.”
1 Peter 4:8 NIV

Day 80: Reaching a Tipping Point

Thu, 04 Jun 2020 01:30:00 -0600

The Far Field at Sunset

With any birth comes pain. As the birth becomes imminent, the pain is more pronounced. The contractions come closer and closer till you can hardly get a breath in between them. We are reaching a tipping point and something has to change. Something has to be born into the world. In the real life scenario that is playing out in front of us, we have to remember...we DO have some choices we can make. We still may not get the outcome we hope for, but we can try. We can educate ourselves. We can exercise our right to vote. We can do more listening and less yelling. We can stand up in support of those who are marginalized by society.

It isn’t always easy. Last night, Mr. FixIt asked the same question he asks every night. “Do you want to watch the news?” I said no. Then I said I’d better...I need to know. But I got halfway through and my stomach was churning. I turned to my beloved and said, “I cannot take any more of this right now. I have to take a break from it all.

They say the way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time. This is one big elephant. Stroke #1. Covid isolation. Stroke #2. Then the world imploded. It’s overwhelming. Yes, I made a strong statement yesterday about becoming “anti-racist” and educating myself. I’m doing that. AND, I’m practicing a little self-care along the way.

I delivered a jar of sourdough starter to my friend Stacie yesterday. She is the one who gave us the jar of Redbud Jelly. Now she can make Sourdough English Muffins, too! When we got home, we were lazy all afternoon. We ate a big salad for supper with tofu on top for protein. Then we jumped in the pool and swept it really well to get the sediment and algae mixed up and filtered out.

We had a huge thunderstorm roll through at about 8:00 with intermittent rain predicted overnight. We went out just before dark as the lightning was getting ever closer and hauled the generator up to the house in case we lose electric overnight. I moved us back into the house from the camper. It was just too hot to sleep out there without the air conditioner and that won’t happen till we get the power pole installed. Lots of things taking the back burner right now, but they’ll get done.

One bite at a time.

❤️

“Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.””
Matthew 19:26 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 76: How to Stay Positive in Troubling Times

Sun, 31 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I am seldom at a loss for words, but yesterday about did me in. From hateful politics to the death and destruction of natural disasters. From long weeks of a horrifying pandemic to the wanton disregard of Memorial Day revelers. From the tragic pictures of a man held under the knee of a police officer till he died...on camera...to the pictures of hordes of people rioting in the street. The sheer chaos just breaks me.

It’s easy to feel like we are standing on the edge of a cliff and there’s a whole crowd of people pushing us from behind. For every picture, for every news story, for every horrifying event...there are stories behind it, beneath it, through it. There are forces at work here breathing death into this chaos. There are evil doers who are fanning the flames of discord. There’s more to this story than we are seeing.

How can we stay positive in times like this? We can’t “unsee” these things. We can’t “unknow” this information. Sometimes things are just so awful we can’t fix them and we can’t ignore them. We can’t hide from them and we’re left feeling unsafe, insecure...frightened.

As I walked out the back door last night and headed to the camper to write about all of this, I was immediately greeted with several gifts. The sun was setting, casting a golden green light over the land I am so privileged to inhabit. The evening was cool and a breeze carried the scent of peonies and honeysuckle across the meadow. And, as I snuggled back against the pillows, iPad at the ready, the mockingbird outside the window regaled me with her evening repertoire. This is when I felt the Holy Spirit reach out to soothe me and remind me of these comforting words to share with you.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?”
Psalm 27:1

“It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you, he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
Deuteronomy 31:8

“He sets on high those who are lowly, and those who mourn are lifted to safety.”
Job 5:11

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”
John 14:27

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33

“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 the darkness is as light with you.”
Psalm 139:11-12

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.”
Psalm 55:22

“Let your steadfast love comfort me according to your promise to your servant.”
Psalm 119:76

I have no answers as to the state of the world. I am gobsmacked by it all. I can’t make sense of it. I’ve been through troubling times before, but this is just crazy...unlike anything I have ever experienced. I do know this, though...the statement “Do not be afraid,” appears 70 times in the Bible. So, I do the only thing I can do. I run to my Dad for his protection and comfort. He is always there for me. He will never leave me or forsake me. He allows me the space to find the comforting gifts he leaves in my path...like a jar of Redbud Jelly and a bag of Sourdough Starter from Texas. The ability to turn those things into English Muffins. The heady aroma of honeysuckle and the evening song of a mockingbird.

I don’t know how God can love us so much...but I’m surely glad that He does.

❤️

“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

Day 70: Learning New Skills

Mon, 25 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

A few years ago, a clerk at the swimming pool supply store gave Mr. FixIt a handy dandy little trick to keep from having to empty so much water from the pool in the winter. It was supposed to keep the skimmer from freezing. Unfortunately, it didn’t work and the skimmer cracked. Being the frugal fixit man my husband is, he managed to jury rig the whole thing and get another four years use out of it. He’s a smart man. But, alas...the time came when we couldn’t keep it together with spit and glue anymore and we bit the bullet. We bought a new one.

Now, in my old life as a Princess, I would have just called the pool guy, ordered a skimmer, and have him come out and install it. I always justified those expenses by figuring out how long it would take me to do it multiplied by how much I valued my time. I valued my time a LOT. Nowadays, we have nothing BUT time, and being the frugal fixit man that he is, we set to installing the skimmer ourselves yesterday.

With a break during the hottest part of the day, I’d say it took us a good five to six hours to install that baby. It’s made well, and all the parts were there, but I could NOT turn the screws when it came time to put it together. I tried and tried. I grunted and may have said a naughty word or two. Mr. FixIt wasn’t helping when he said, “Just turn it!”

I looked at him and informed him he was getting dangerously close to doing this entire job by himself. Finally, I took the two pieces apart and looked in the holes. They were not threaded. Mr. FixIt took the drill and drove the screws into the holes to pre-thread them. When we tried the second time, they went in much easier. However, I couldn’t get the leverage I needed to drive them all the way in. I knew the only way this was going to work was for one of us to get in the pool to be in the right position.

There was no way I was going to let my husband get down in that water. Not only would there be the balance issues from last weekend’s stroke, but there was the issue of the water that had not been cleaned yet. I couldn’t risk him getting an infection in his feet or legs. So...I said, let’s have a good dinner, then I can get in there and we’ll whip this thing out.

I pulled the pork roast out of the oven and as it set, I steamed some broccoli, made a bowl of coleslaw, and sautéed the remaining mushrooms that were nearing their final days. We enjoyed our meal out on the pool deck, admiring the new pergola we built this spring and yet again congratulating ourselves for being so smart to buy it. It really keeps the temperature down at the table. After supper, we drove over to town to get a little ice cream for dessert.

It was finally time to get in the pool and get this done. It was SO cold. The pool thermometer said “Lo”. I asked Mr. FixIt how low was “Lo”. He had no idea. I’ll tell you what...I know! “Lo” means “Darned Cold”! But this was exactly the position I needed to be in to put my weight behind it and it was no time till we were done. The seal around the skimmer was water tight and there were no more leaks. Eureka! I did a little happy dance and Mr. FixIt laughed.

“Get out of there before you get hypothermia!”

I love the sense of accomplishment that comes with doing a good job. And I love that I have a patient husband that is willing to teach me these things. Having these strokes has brought us a sense of urgency in getting jobs done and teaching me how to do everything around here. It’s all part of the whole “Autumn” thing.

Sitting in the bedroom with the windows wide open and writing is the peaceful ending I crave to every day. It is my meditation time. I love hearing the frogs and the night noises and the tapping of my keyboard. It is the rhythm of my life.

❤️

“When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.”
Proverbs 3:24 NIV

Day 68: Call Lowe’s...I’m Building an Ark!

Sat, 23 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Hokey Smokes! It has rained 20 inches so far this year in our neck of the woods. We waited all day yesterday to get enough warm sunshine to dry out the yard so we could mow one more time before my step-son comes to get his riding mower today. Mr. FixIt had physical therapy and we needed to find a couple things for the old tractor to work on it today. By the time we got back home, the skies opened up again and we were back to square one.

Hopefully today is a nice day and we can mow and be good for another week, at least. I mean...on the one hand, when it rains you don’t have to mow. But, on the other...the grass grows like crazy with all that wonderful moisture. It’s a Catch-22. We also need to take the push mower out to the farm and mow out there. And this time, Mr. FixIt can’t help. I’m definitely going to get back in shape with all this exercise!

I hate that I’m not spending as much time in the kitchen as I was. It’s so soothing to me to create good things that nourish my family...and our wounded spirits. We have nowhere to go this weekend...our people are coming to us to help with mowing and welding and fixing things that need fixing. I can spend some time in the kitchen and bake them some treats to take home. That will soothe my heart and bring me peace.

I’ve been thinking about my Aunt Peeps a lot this week. While she was a sophisticated woman with impeccable taste in fashion, she was a country girl at heart. She once told me, her main goal in life was to get a teaching degree and use it to make enough money to buy a farm in West Virginia. I don’t recall seeing her can and preserve food, but she was quite the cook. She didn’t quilt or sew, but she could work sunup to sundown with any man and give him a run for his money. She was an enigma. Tight as a drum with money, yet incredibly generous when she saw you were trying to improve yourself through education. She was your cheerleader if you were a hard worker. She deeply appreciated a good work ethic and had no patience for someone who she felt was lazy or “working the system.”

She and I didn’t always see eye to eye about things, and I talked WAY too much for her tastes, but...we had one thing in common and that was the love we felt for Grandma’s farm. She was born in Pekin, Illinois along with two of her siblings. Grandma and Pop-Pop were living there during the Depression where work was to be found. When they finally came back home, there were already four children. Two were born after they moved back to West Virginia. The Farm was where they grew up. It’s where I grew up, too.

My Uncle Bud came home to the farm last weekend to pick up some things that belonged to Aunt Peeps. He needed to find a picture of her for her obituary. I didn’t get to see him because that was the day Mr. FixIt came home from the hospital. I spoke with him this week and he was so pleased with how well we are caring for the family home. He said he was worried it would begin falling apart without someone living there full time, but I told him we go there often enough to breath life into the old place.

There are some things that are failing...like the big barn and the old tool shed. They are starting to lean and there’s termite damage. But overall, the place looks great for being nearly a hundred years old. I still yearn to go there often to just rock on the front porch and listen to the birds and the wind in the trees. Everything is aging...the old home place, the tractor, the Ponderosa...and us.

These are the things that went through my mind as I sat pretending to read while I watched my sweet husband having physical therapy. We’ve known each other since we were kids. But we’ve only been together a little over three years. We’ve both changed a lot in those three years. This marriage isn’t like the marriage of my youth...where time stretched before us like an endless summer vacation. This is the marriage where we get to wrap each other up in warm, comfy love and ride the long wave home. There’s no fooling ourselves. Oh, we aren’t at death’s door....but it is Autumn now. And, there is much comfort knowing I’ll be going through this with my best friend at my side.

❤️

“In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’”
Acts 20:35 ESV

Day 56: My Mate...My Mirror

Mon, 11 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Several weeks ago, I asked a question on my personal Facebook page: “Shouldn’t married couples quarantine separately? (Asking for a friend)” I got a lot of responses. Many laughed and knew the tongue-in-cheek nature of the question. Some professed their undying love for their husbands and how fabulous it’s been being with them 24/7. I’m not sure they realized they might have to do this ad infinitum. I haven’t checked back in with them to see how they’re doing...for two reasons. If they are still all googly-eyed and swooning over every moment of his presence, either my friends are big fat liars...or I’m a total failure at this shelter-in-place thing.

Cause...I gotta tell ya...I’m not the easiest person to be around these days. I’m crotchety. Testy. And sometimes, flat out mean. I don’t mean to be. I’ve got the sweetest husband on the planet. And, I have to be getting on his nerves, too. We came into this relationship retired, independent, with grown kids. We were used to doing our own thing. The whirlwind of romance and travel and marriage was balanced with time spent pursuing our own interests. Take that all away and you have two people who adore each other who are “sheltering-in-place” with nowhere to go. No dates. No trips to the beach. No entertaining the family. Just...us.

He’s a noisy sleeper. I have to be right all the time. He watches too much TV. I can’t keep a kitchen clean to save my life. He says “ambulance” wrong. I have too many Amazon packages arriving.

24/7/56 and counting.

Just to be clear...there’s not a soul on the planet that I would rather be holed up with than this guy. Still...I miss camping with my girlfriends. I’m afraid I won’t get to go to Colorado this summer to see my family. I miss gathering for coffee with my high school classmates. I miss the two nights a week that Mr. FixIt bowled with his buddies and I got to stay home and read and take bubble baths. He would never say a word, but I’m sure he misses his lazy errand days where he went from store to store and chatted with all the people he was sure to run into that he knows. And, I’m pretty darned sure he misses the wife that didn’t nag all the time.

I think cabin fever has truly set in and we’re both getting a little frustrated by the restrictions. Everyone is. And that isn’t really bringing out the best in us. How do we maintain close personal relationships when “close” is all we got? Well, the first thing to remember is...just because we are sharing the same space doesn’t mean we are sharing intimacy. I’m not talking the making whoopie kind, although that’s great ( ! ! ! ). I’m talking about something they mentioned on CBS Sunday Morning yesterday. Skin hunger.

We crave and thrive on physical touch. Without it, an important part of our daily needs is not being met. I went through this with my divorces and with the loss of Mr. Virgo. As a matter of fact, I had my physician prescribe a weekly massage for me when I was newly divorced so I could have at least some semblance of human touch. When I became a widow, there were people everywhere to give me hugs. Not so much for most people riding out this pandemic alone. And they can’t even go get a massage right now.

We are missing the strangers in our lives. The people we smiled at when we walked into a crowded restaurant. We miss the new people we meet and shake hands with. We miss the casual hand on the arm or the brush-by in a crowd. Now we look at others as threats...possible carriers of a deadly disease. It’s causing us to grieve that loss. And, if we are already grieving a loss and we are alone...it’s compounding that grief.

Good communication and physical contact goes a long way in getting you through the tough times in any relationship. This is even more important during a high stress event like we are currently experiencing. I know things will get better. The world will open up and we’ll be able to do things again...differently, perhaps. There WILL be a time when we can have some space from those we’ve been sheltering with...and some connection with others that we miss. When I absolutely need to, I take my laundry out to the farm and stay a day or two. Yesterday, I took a new cookbook I recently purchased and went out to the camper to read for a couple of hours while Mr. FixIt puttered around in the yard.

I don’t like being not so nice. Like every situation...there is a beginning and an end. I can focus on making that space between the two a period of transition. Introspection. Personal growth. Temperance. A time to get a little closer to God and ask His help...maybe ask Him to put His hand over my mouth when I’m feeling testy.

This too shall pass.

❤️

“A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.”
Proverbs 25:28 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 53: It’s Feel Good Friday...Time to Graduate!

Fri, 08 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Yes, it’s Friday again. Whether you feel like it’s only been a couple of days since last Friday, or this week has been 53 days long...it’s that time of the week where we look on the bright side if we can. Hopefully there has been at least one good and positive thing happen to you this week.

For me, it was video-chatting with family, getting my hands in flour in the kitchen, having one near-normal day where I ran errands, and last night my bonus son-in-law brought his youngest out to the Ponderosa to hit softballs while Grandpa and I watched from the sidelines. Oh, and I have a batch of sourdough in the fridge that’s been rising slowly overnight so I’m going to try my hand at baking bread today.

As I watched our granddaughter hitting softballs way out into the field last night, I thought of her older sister. We were all supposed to go to WVU next weekend to see her graduate. There are kids all over the country in the same boat. Their hopes and dreams of a fun-filled last few months of their senior years were dashed by the pandemic. No proms. No big graduation. No after-graduation parties. No hugs from all the proud family members. Not much is the same these days and there is a lot of disappointment all around.

There is ONE thing we can do for our graduates. We can still give them bits of sage advice to help them along life’s pathway. Something to enlighten, encourage, inspire them as they take this next step in an uncertain world...an uncertain time.

What is your best piece of advice to someone who was supposed to graduate this week? Let’s send them off with some profound bits of knowledge and encouragement, shall we?

❤️

“May he grant you your heart’s desire and fulfill all your plans!”
Psalm 20:4 ESV

Day 51: Saying Goodbye to Beni

Wed, 06 May 2020 01:30:00 -0600

I’ve had to say goodbye to several fur babies and each one hurts more than you can imagine. The first time I ever had to put a dog down, it wasn’t even mine. It was my late father-in-law’s. He just didn’t have the heart to do it. He asked if I would. I don’t know why, but I’m the one that always had to take the “kids” for their last ride. Women are stronger in this, maybe. Maybe it’s because I was mostly raised on a farm that I got elected. For whatever reason, and as hard as it was, it was always an honor to be with a beloved companion in their last moments and let them see and hear someone they loved and trusted. It is the final gift you can give them.

The other day, my friend Deneene had to say goodbye to her beloved Beni. It carried the usual pain of losing a companion animal, but it had an added layer of pain. Beni was the last of the pack that was left from the animals she shared with her late husband. Losing this dog meant losing another important connection to Mike. It compounds the grief.

Losing a loved one is like dropping a big stone in a still pond. That first contact between the rock and the water causes the biggest wave. Then the ripples begin to slowly spread out and touch more and more of the space between the event and the shore. Since there is no timetable for grief, many years can go by and you still encounter a wave that originated from the center.

Beni was a good dog. He rarely barked but when he did, it was more like saying hello than it was a warning. He was gentle and sweet and other animals seemed to know he was a good boy. He had a rocky start. Deneene’s daughter found him abandoned inside a crate. He surely would have starved to death if she hadn’t found him and took him in. His leg was severely injured and he always walked with a bit of a limp. But, dogs are the only animal that love you more than they do themselves and he never knew an enemy once he knew the love of his girl.

Cas brought Beni to visit Deneene. They had a strong bond. Deneene often called and asked her to bring Beni over for a visit...or maybe let him spend the weekend. Before long, Beni just ended up staying with Deneene and that was it. They were attached at the hip. A little over a year ago, Deneene knew Beni didn’t have too much longer with them, so she brought another dog home. She has never been without a companion animal and she wasn’t about to this time, either.

Griffen the Grey joined their pack. A solid little French Bulldog puppy that everyone fell in love with. He was Beni’s annoying little brother who made him get up and move around more than he really wanted to. Maybe that’s what kept him going this last year. One of Beni’s favorite things to do was ride in the kayak with his mom. He wore a life vest in his later years because he wasn’t strong enough to keep his head above water.

Last Friday, Deneene knew Beni was done. He stopped eating. Sometimes he couldn’t stand up without falling down. She waited for him to tell her when...and he did. She set the date for Monday, then treated Beni to a beautiful farewell weekend with all his favorite things. They went for a ride in the car and a swim in the lake. And they went for ice cream. Griff seemed to know something was up because he just laid close to Beni all weekend without trying to engage him in play.

When the last ride was over, they brought their good boy home and buried him in a beautiful part of the yard, in the cool shade of a tree. They placed a statue of St. Francis at his head to watch over him. And Griffen laid near the grave all day, waiting for his buddy, honoring his friendship, mourning his passing.

Other animals miss their brothers and sisters when they cross over the Rainbow Bridge, just like we do. It’s sad for everyone. Even though we know they aren’t suffering anymore, we still may feel guilty, like maybe we should have...could have...done more for our friends. In the wild, an animal goes off in the woods by themselves to die when it’s their time. Domestic pets rely on us to make the humane decision for them.

Those pets who own a person are the most blessed because they get to take a little bit of their human’s heart with them...just as they leave behind a little piece of their own. I’ve heard it said, eventually you end up with the heart of a dog...one who loves everyone unconditionally.

My heart is with you, Deneene. And with all of you who have had to say goodbye to a beloved pet...especially if that pet was the last of the pack you shared with your loved one.

❤️

“For what happens to the children of man and what happens to the beasts is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath, and man has no advantage over the beasts, for all is vanity. All go to one place. All are from the dust, and to dust all return.”
Ecclesiastes 3:19-20 ESV

Day 35: I Miss Your Face

Mon, 20 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Absence makes us appreciate presence.

Like everyone else, we’re doing a lot of hanging out here at The Ponderosa. Mowing season has begun. We’re getting projects done and making plans for others. The few times we have ventured out have been masked forays into uncrowded stores for a quick purchase. We only have a few shops in the tiny town on the other side of the hill. Piggly Wiggly and Dollar General are the bigger ones.

I needed a couple things the other day so I stopped in the Dollar General. There was a woman shopping ahead of me. She was around my age. She wore a mask but she had it pulled down under her nose. The first thing I said to her was “Thank you so much for wearing a mask. It’s so important to help stop the spread of this disease.” Her eyes crinkled up from the smile hidden behind her mask.

“I don’t mean to pry,” I said. “But, did you by any chance work in medicine?”

“No I didn’t,” she said.

“I worked in the medical field for over forty years and I would never be presumptuous and tell someone what to do. However, your mask won’t help you if you don’t cover your nose.”

She quickly pulled it up. “Oh, I know...but it makes my glasses fog up and I can’t stand it.”

At the time, I didn’t have an answer for her. I knew there were ways to get around that, but I just couldn’t think off the top of my head. Since then, I found out one way is to fold up a tissue under the your glasses behind the mask. Some masks have a flexible wire at the top that molds it to your nose and that helps, but these homemade masks don’t have that. If you wash your glasses with soapy water leaves a thin film that reduces surface tension and the lenses won’t fog up. Mr. FixIt swears if you wash your glasses with shaving cream, they won’t fog up. I haven’t tried that yet.

I have a bit of a hearing loss and find I’m depending on reading lips a lot more than I thought I was. I’m having to ask people to repeat themselves more often since we are wearing masks. I also miss seeing people smile. It’s amazing how much nonverbal cues come through watching a person’s face.

Remember I told you the other day that I hadn’t cried since this all started? Well, last night my daughter called and we had a long, laughter-filled conversation. We told stories and reminisced about her childhood. It was leisurely and delightful. When we were saying our goodbyes, I heard her voice thicken with emotion.

“Mama, the other day I read that if they can’t come up with a vaccine that works, we might have to practice social distancing clear into 2022. I can’t stand the thought of not hugging you for that long!” (Note: I’m not saying a vaccine cures this. I’m not being political. I know we can’t stay in limbo like this forever. I’m just relaying what my daughter said she heard.)

My heart broke.

“Honey, I would find a way to hug you...no matter what. We could put a blanket between us and I could give you a big ol’ Mama hug!”

We said our goodbyes...and I hung up and cried.

It’s the first time I’ve shed tears since all this began. It wasn’t cleansing tears, either.

It just made me sad.

It’s ok to be saddened by all this. It’s hard to think about all the things...all the little things and the big things that we’re missing. We can’t get through this without feeling sadness. I’m combatting that with making lists of all the things I want to do when things open up. I’m looking for ways to serve others through this difficult time. And I look for the goodness of God in the world around me.

Not every day can be a happy day.

That’s ok.

❤️

“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies.”
Psalm 18:2-3 ESV

Day 34: We Are in the Same Storm...NOT the Same Boat

Sun, 19 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

We are all caught in the same storm...but not in the same boat.

Let me preface this by stating this is not an original thought. I mean, really...IS there such a thing anymore? No, I read something yesterday on Facebook that someone forwarded. It was attributed to an “Unknown Author” so, who knows? If you wrote it or know for certain who did, let me know so I can give credit where credit is due.

The premise of the post was the pandemic and where we factor in it. I’m sure we all have read “We are in the same boat!” That couldn’t be further from the truth. “We’ll get through this together!” Oh, that I truly pray for. But in the same boat? Nope. We’re in the same storm. And even that is somewhat different. The storm in Washington state and Florida and New York and Texas and New Orleans is far different than Montana and Wyoming and North Dakota and even here in West Virginia.

The only thing that is absolute is, we are facing the same enemy...Covid-19. That’s the storm we are collectively facing. For some, it’s hardly a blip on the radar screen. For others, it’s a Class V Hurricane. To say we are all in the same boat is totally inaccurate. We are all in our own boats...sailing along as best we can with what’s being thrown our way. It’s a crapshoot where the dice will land when they're tossed our way.

Some of us are riding this wave with life vests out the wazoo. Money in the bank, food in the larder, a mortgage free home. It’s pretty much business as usual with a little more time at home than we’re used to. Maybe we don’t get the choicest cut of meat or they were out of our favorite wine. Maybe our biggest challenge is getting oh so bored with the menu at Chez Home Kitchen or we’ve gone through our DVR’s backlog of “must see” shows we always wanted to catch up on.

Others have always been a paycheck away from hunger or homelessness. We’ve got parents teaching their children through online learning on top of working their own 10-12 hour day online...if we’re lucky enough to have a job, period. Some of us don’t have sweet and tender spouses ready to be there to back us up in our darkest time of need. Some of us have suffered abuse at night but at least had those hours on the job as a way to escape the blows for a while. Some of our children are facing hunger now more than ever...maybe for the first time in their little lives. Maybe the weight of the crises between moms and dad is spilling over and the littles are catching the brunt of it in ways we cannot imagine.

We are NOT in the same boat. The single mom with three kids that’s trying to figure out how to keep her family together is not the same as the retired couple sipping their martini and watching the evening news together in their neat and tidy mansion on the 9th hole of the local country club.

We are NOT in the same boat. The dad who works three jobs to put food on the table and finds himself standing in a food bank line for 10 hours to receive a sack of groceries the likes of which others can pick up at the corner market without a second thought.

We are NOT in the same boat. Blacks and Latinos are dying in far greater numbers simply because their demographic puts them at a higher risk for disease.

We ARE, however, in the same storm...more or less. We are facing a formidable foe. I pray we get through this together. But some of us won’t. Many of us won’t.

We are seeing exactly what I told you we would see. I told you, if the numbers didn’t turn out to be the mega-catastrophic death tolls originally predicted, we would have people screaming that we over-reacted. I told you this would happen if the curve flattened but it’s not because we over-reacted. It’s because the safety measures we put in place did their jobs. This debate will rage for months...could more lives have been saved if we started earlier? Did we do enough? Did we do too much? Where and when did the virus actually start? Since we didn’t have enough tests, what is the actually number of patients infected?

Now we are seeing protests of the shutdown and some officials are easing restrictions in what others see as too soon and with reckless abandon. Just the other day I wrote a post about gaslighting and we are seeing more and more of that, too. Changes will come at a dizzying speed and it’s going to be hard to keep up. Throw a presidential election in the mix and...holy cats...what a mess.

It’s not all gloom and doom, though. Look at how folks are rallying around the people on the front lines. Look at how people are contributing and volunteering and organizing. As Mrs. Rogers told her little boy...”Look for the helpers.” They're out there and they are doing good things. There are positive things coming from this. People are searching out ways to be of service.

If you’re still having trouble finding a ray of hope, try this. There wasn’t a single school shooting in all of March 2020...the first March since 2002 to not see one.

That is a sobering thought.

Maybe, just maybe....maybe we don’t WANT to go back to normal.

Maybe this is our chance to change. This is our do-over.

I had to do it after Mr. Virgo died. I had to create a whole new normal. A whole new world. A whole new identity. Heck, if I...in all my messy dysfunction...could work with God and create something as beautiful as the life I’m living, anything is possible.

Anything.

❤️

““Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”
Isaiah 43:18-19 ESV

#StartingOver, #Healing, #Coronavirus

Day 33: The Transmogrification of the World

Sat, 18 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

The gorgeous woods of Beaver Creek State Park bring me back at least twice a year.

You can ask anyone who knows me...especially my sweet hubby...CHANGE is my middle name. I can roll with the punches like the best of them. I can adapt, adjust, regroup, reform, revise, diversify, shift, twist, transform, remodel, and steer in a whole new direction. I’ve made myself over so many times, I am unrecognizable to those who’ve known me longest. But there comes a point where it gets “purt near impossible” as my grandma used to say...even for a flexible person like me.

I can handle when things slow down. I can take it when certain items are unavailable. After all, I lived through the great gasoline, toilet paper and sugar shortage of 1973-74 in the UK. We were actually given ration coupons. I hate that this disease is causing so much hardship on the world. It breaks my heart the amount of death that lies in its wake.

The first time I ever faced the visual shock of devastating change was in the late ‘80s, early ‘90s. I was on my annual trip to West Virginia to visit my family. I always stayed at the farm as much as possible when I went home and no trip was complete without a hike back up on the hill to the old Strawberry Shed. At this time, I could still walk up the trail behind the barn and walk through the woods. Now, old trees have long since fallen up the holler and blocked any way to get up through there, let alone finding the path since it’s overgrown.

That one particular summer, I hiked back up on the hill and when I came out into the clearing where the old garden was, I dropped to my knees in disbelief. The woods were gone. Just...gone! They had been clear cut and nothing was left but stumps. Something inside me felt broken and I cried my heart out. Someone had killed my childhood memories and I felt violated.

No one told me about the woods. No one warned me what the change would look like or that I should prepare myself. For them, it was a matter of course. Wood is a commodity on a farm and when you need to build a building or you need some money to live on, you make a withdrawal out of the “Bank of Nature” and cash it in. I knew this in my logical brain, but my emotional brain was devastated.

Last fall, my dear friend Gail told us our beloved Beaver Creek State Park was going to close soon after our “What a Hoot” event with the Girl Campers. She said they were going to cut out some dead wood, thin out the woods to improve the forest health, and mitigate a couple of old holding ponds leftover from the days when the area was a strip mine. The plan was to fill in those two pits and cut some of the far trees so you could once again look down over the edge to see the Pioneer Village below.

The devastation of the clear cut woods in Beaver Creek State Park brought back the terrible image of my grandma’s farm when they cut the trees down without telling me.

That sounded good. A healthy move. A needed change. It would promote healthy new growth and cut down on the terrible mosquito problem that infested the area in late summer. I haven’t been back up there yet. The state park is still closed for rehab. And, the pandemic has kept us from camping yet. Then, I saw the first photos from the park and I was once again hit in the gut with that familiar pain from such a visual change.

The trees are just...gone. It looks like all of them, from what I can see. What was once magical is now just a memory. We can only hope that what is there will become beautiful again, but it won’t be in our lifetime. The changes we are seeing from the pandemic may also be far reaching. Many are unimaginable and hit us in the gut. Things are different. And more change will come. And some of it will be downright ugly and frightening, but....at the same time...

The birds will sing.

The sun will rise and set.

The seasons will change.

Babies will come.

Elders will go.

The water will flow from the peaks of the mountains to the valleys below.

There will be fires and storms and earthquakes and disease.

And there will be life.

Resilient, strong, adaptable people will persevere. We may not live long enough to see how it all plays out but we can rest assured of one thing...

No matter what is thrown at us in this life, we know the end of the story and good triumphs over evil.

It is finished. We just haven’t seen the end of it yet.

❤️

“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

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 28: And the Gaslighting Begins

Mon, 13 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Gaslighting...watch for it.

This is probably going to be the darkest post I’ve ever written to you. It’s dark...but it’s not without hope. It’s not without love or light or promise. It is merely my observation and it has been weighing heavy on my heart the last few days. When something sits in me like that, I know I’m supposed to write about it, so here goes.

Humans like security. We don’t like change. When change is thrust upon us, we want everything to go back to normal as soon as possible. I learned as a new widow that life will move forward, but it will never be the same. At first, that devastated me. Then time and experience showed me that just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it can’t also be good again.

I read an article over the weekend about gaslighting and the pandemic. People are going to want the world to go back to the way it was and Madison Avenue has deep pockets. They’re going to start rolling out things that are going to make you doubt what you’ve seen with your own eyes. They’re going to make it look like this virus wasn’t really what you thought it was. They might even pretend it never happened. That it was all faked to scare you. It’s going to make you feel crazy.

You aren’t crazy.

Remember what you saw. Remember the pictures and the stories and the pleas for help. Remember that, if the death toll doesn’t add up to the numbers originally predicted, it doesn’t mean the virus was faked or blown out of proportion. It means the steps we took by socially distancing ourselves and using proper hygiene worked. The steps worked.

It’s easier to believe someone went overboard than it is to believe that a worldwide pandemic brought the world to a standstill.

It’s easier to say maybe we misunderstood what someone said than to believe they actually said such frightening things.

This is an adjustment phase we are coming into. Another layer of the onion this pandemic has set in our laps. We are going to see things we never dreamed we could possibly see in our country. It’s going to be frightening. It’s going to be confusing. But it doesn’t have to overcome us.

Instead of focusing on the unwanted changes, what would happen if we focus on some of the changes we aren’t even looking at.

Children are learning that electronics are tools for education instead of mindlessly whiling away hours focused on violent video games.

Families are gathering around the table every day...teaching, learning, creating, eating, praying.

We are learning to appreciate what is really important. We are learning new skills. We are getting mom’s old sewing machine out and making masks for people to use when they have to go out. We are teaching children to care for others in the process.

We are slowing down and breathing. The environment is recovering. The earth is actually becoming quiet inside...it’s not vibrating like it was with all the heavy manufacturing and traffic. There are places in the world where you can see mountains that haven’t been seen in decades because of pollution. National Parks are closed to traffic so plants and animals will start to recover. Streams will run more pure.

Maybe when things open up, more people can work from home and keep the traffic down and give the earth a chance to heal.

I heard a woman on CBS Sunday Morning yesterday. She said that maybe the NEXT “greatest generation” is being raised now. Maybe they will see what happened and learn better ways of doing things. Maybe they will take the stumbling blocks we have placed before them and turn them into stepping stones. Maybe they will find the cures and the ways of dealing with pandemics that will avoid disasters like this.

None of these things will happen if we let them downplay the seriousness of the pandemic. We must not forget this, as much as we would like to.

There are brighter days ahead, I assure you. They will be different, certainly...but they can be good.

I read this week that Bible sales are skyrocketing. People are praying and meditating and practicing their individual faiths. People who haven’t had any faith are coming to find a faith of their own. For me, my faith is in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I find great hope and comfort knowing that God never changes. Everything in the world will change. Everything. But God never does and He is with me always. He loves me and wants to prosper me and give me a rich and full life. Does that mean it’s going to be cushy and easy and nothing but a party? Heck no!

We have this promise:

2 Timothy 1:7 - For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

Stand on this when you see the scary things. Just please...don’t forget they happened. We owe that to the brave souls standing on the front lines. The soldiers in this battle wear scrubs and uniforms, aprons and overalls, blue jeans and sweatpants. They’re nurses and doctors, therapists and technicians, cooks and housekeepers, trash men and sanitary workers, grocers and farmers, teachers and parents.

Take your fear and turn it into determination. Take your uncertainty and turn it into skills. Take your weary heart and turn it over and trust for better days.

And...know you are loved beyond measure.

❤️

“for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.”
2 Timothy 1:7 ESV

Note: This is not a political post, whatsoever. It’s an observation of the human state of being during a time of crisis.

Day 22: I Took a Little Break...Stay and Pray

Tue, 07 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

The view from my grandparents’ bedroom has always brought me such peace. I always feel safe here.

I had to be up bright and early yesterday to take the truck into the body shop to fix the damage from the rebar I ran over a couple of weeks ago. Could it have waited? Yes. But there was very minimal contact with others in the interaction. I wore a mask, spoke to one man in the body shop...at a distance. Handed over the key and declined his offer to wait inside for the Enterprise guy to bring my vehicle. When the car arrived, I sat in my truck and the agent stood six feet away and asked questions. I handed him my ID and credit card wrapped in a disinfecting wipe...for his protection. I received it back in a different wrap for mine. It was all done in five minutes.

I took my container of wipes and went over every surface of that car that I am likely to touch, although I could see from the streaks left behind that it had been cleaned before. When I was satisfied, I got in and left. I checked my mail and went through the drive thru for a bag of pepperoni rolls because one must have pepperoni rolls when facing the worst week of a pandemic, right? The package got wiped down as well.

My laundry was still in the truck from my ill-fated trip to the farm last Sunday when the hillside was on fire, so I made plans to head out there after getting the rental car. I arrived in late morning and the sun was sparkling on all the lovely green grass and flowering shrubs. I hauled in my laundry and got it started. As the first load was in, I crawled into the bed my grandparents slept in. I pulled the covers up under my chin and stared out the window at the massive flowering quince along the creek bank.

My mind, like most of yours I’m sure, has been a whirlwind these last few weeks. Between prayers for my family, friends, readers, and public at large and keeping inventory of where I’ve been, how many times I’ve washed my hands, and if I’ve touched my face...I’ve been...what? Teetering? No, that’s not it. Worried? Yeah, who isn’t? Overwhelmed? Surprisingly, no. Actually I’ve been running steady like a little two-stroke engine pulling a grist mill. Humming right along, but bound to run out of gas soon or later.

I decided to take a preemptive break BEFORE I ran out of gas. This is a good mental health strategy that I learned along some of the rockiest paths I’ve been on in this life. And, I can’t think of anyplace in the world that gives me more comfort than being at the farm by myself for a day or two. It even beats being in my camper...and you KNOW how much I love that!

As I watched the flowery branches of the quince sway to and fro in the breeze, a Yellow Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterfly landed here and there, sucking up the sweet nectar. It made me smile. I took a deep breath through my nose and smelled flowers and moss and wet leaves in the woods. I smelled “grandma’s house”...a pleasing mixture of old wood, old fabrics, old books. I wish I could bottle that and keep it. Or make candles with that special scent. The birds were calling and I saw the blue heron that frequents the creek across the road as it slowly beat its wings up the holler.

I drifted off into a deep sleep and when I woke up, I vowed I would not watch the news on this beautiful day. I know what is happening. Instead, I prayed for them all. Those being left at the door of the hospital. Those being left behind when they don’t return. I cannot change what is happening right now. I cannot do anything more than what I am currently doing....wiping, washing, and waiting. Weeping more doesn’t help.

A high school friend lost her husband during the night. It was not unexpected. It was not coronavirus. It was cancer. Death doesn’t wait for anything or anyone. That death hurts, too. Because that’s the one we knew was coming and couldn’t stop it. This pandemic has changed how we grieve. We will continue to find all the ways it has changed us as we go along, but my heart breaks for the newly bereaved in this time without hugs.

❤️

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
Psalms 34:18 ESV

Day 21: Three Weeks Down...How Many More?

Mon, 06 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Here’s a sweet idea for a craft to do with the kids while we are sheltering at home. I can see presents for the grandparents here.

I was thinking about the shutdown this weekend and wondered how people would have reacted if, from the get-go, we were told...”Ok, y’all need to go home and stay home. The only places you can go is the grocery store, the pharmacy, the gas station, and the doctor or hospital...period! You can help a senior or a debilitated family member, but everything else is shut down...like, NOW!”

Can you imagine the rebellion and chaos? Thank God it didn’t come that way, because this way is bad enough. We did great this week. We did go to the nursery to buy our tomato plants and picked up a pizza, but we stayed out of stores. It’s going to be even more important to do that in the next two weeks as we near the peak.

I don’t think the “official numbers” of coronavirus cases being reported, in this country especially, is anywhere near accurate. I talked with friends this weekend who are doctors. They said they had patients who clearly had the symptoms, but you have to call the DHHR, give them the info, and THEY make the determination whether the patient gets the test. We were woefully underprepared for this crisis, but hopefully this will be a lesson and we can learn and grow from it for the next time a pandemic comes.

Let’s just continue to do our best, to hope and pray that we get through this with the fewest deaths possible, and we can live to fight another day. There are so many things that need to change in our immediate future, and I will do my best to help wherever I can. I have country living skills that I can share with others. I vow to teach the young people in my family what they need to know to thrive in hard times.

My phone rang yesterday and it was a group of girlfriends from high school calling with a surprise group video chat. What a treat! It was wonderful to see each other and lift each other up on a sunny Palm Sunday. It did our hearts good.

I have no idea how much longer we’ll be sheltering at home. Last night after supper, Mr. FixIt and I went for a walk out our country lane. We passed a neighbor and her littles out for a walk to check the mail. I asked if they were the ones who left that lovely container of homemade cookies on our stoop at Christmas. The mama smiled and nodded her head. She pointed to the two older girls...maybe five and seven years old. I told them what a great job they did and that their cookies were delicious. Those little girls beamed!

How are you all doing with meal prep? Are you tired of cooking? Have you come up with innovative ways to prepare the same thing over and over? I made spaghetti last night but I was out of fresh mushrooms. I used canned mushrooms and I really thought the sauce was awful. Mr. FixIt loved it, but I thought it was bland and too soupy. But, as my grandma used to say...”It’ll be et!” Food was never wasted at Grandma’s house, and it won’t be wasted at mine, either.

So, it’s Monday. It may be a bumpy ride this week. Do what you need to do to get by, but be safe. Try not to watch the news too much. We will get through this.

❤️

“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;”
2 Corinthians 4:8-9 ESV

Day 20: A Lesson From Nature and a Song for Your Heart

Sun, 05 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

A tree finds a way to grow in the harshest of environments.

Yesterday was so beautiful on The Ponderosa. The forsythia and flowering quince are at their peak of color. The pear tree out front is so full of delicate white blossoms the limbs bend. The grass in the fields has filled in with a spring green that shocks the eyes in the glare of the sun. All around us, the woods are filling in...first the underbrush, then the trees budding. It is a sight to behold and one that brings peace and comfort to my soul. It brings promise in the midst of an ugly scourge that is threatening the world. The dichotomy between the microcosm of my world and the painful specter that is New York, Italy, and countless other locales Boggles the mind.

We spent the biggest portion of yesterday outside. I cleaned out my truck to prepare it for the body shop on Monday. The camping gear was sadly put away for now. We had a socially distanced visit with some family in the driveway. Our first great grandson is getting SO big and it was really hard not to run and scoop him up in my arms. Fortunately, he is too young to understand all this and was happy to sit in the seat of their Jeep and play patty-cake with me.

As I went about my day, cleaning and organizing, I watched the birds swoop in to the bird feeders. Mr. FixIt put up the hummingbird feeder and we are anxiously awaiting our first sighting. The flowering shrubs are so heavily laden with honey bees, you can hear them buzzing from twenty feet away. It does my heart good to see the bees. I think there are more this year than usual, which is a good sign.

Nature can teach us many things during times of duress. Nature almost always finds a way to survive, even in the harshest of environments. So can we. Nature displays beauty at every turn, even when the going gets rough. So can we. Nature follows a set script of seasons and there is a time for every purpose. There is for us, as well. It’s just that, now we have this thing...this aberrant monster that we can’t control. And that is disconcerting. Disheartening. Discouraging.

Even in the most difficult moments of our lives, we can find courage, we can seek beauty, and we can display kindness. In my search for Christine Lavin’s song about adjusting your dreams, I stumbled upon another of her works. At first, I was a bit afraid to listen as the title is “As Bad As It Gets”. She wrote it for someone she loved very much who was going through a devastating medical crisis. When I listened to it, I thought to myself it was something I wish I would have found early on in my grief. I find it comforting in the light of where we are right now and thought I would share it with you here this morning. Christine sent it to me to share in the hope that it helps you.

“As Bad As It Gets” by Christina Lavin: https://vimeo.com/233368854

❤️

“And his disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus answered, "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world."”

John 9:2-5 ESV

#Struggles, #Coronavirus, #Faith, #ChristineLavin

Day 18: It’s Feel Good Friday...Adjust Your Dreams

Fri, 03 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

There are two things you can bank on in this life...God and change.

Many years ago, in a life long gone, I was a DJ on public radio. I had my own show and played an eclectic mix of music the likes of which could only fly on a station like KDNK. I playEd Bach and Steve Winwood. Patsy Cline and Fleetwood Mac. I threw new stuff in there as well as jazz and country and R&B. Whatever struck my fancy, I played it. It was great fun.

One of the artists I began to fancy was a singer-songwriter named Christine Lavin. Her music covered such a broad range of emotion, just like my radio show. Everything from eating Cold Pizza for Breakfast to the acknowledgement/encouragement of As Bad as it Gets to the raucous fun of What Was I Thinking? Christine’s music carried me though a particularly rough time in my life. My marriage was doing the slow burn before that brilliant crash that sent me away for a while.

As we are beginning to gain a real understanding of the magnitude of what we are collectively facing in this pandemic, I have been turning inward to my memory banks. I’ve been looking for those tools in my toolbox that I used to help get me through the heartbreaks...first with divorce, then with the untimely death of Mr. Virgo.

We all need more tools to help us cope. My faith brings me the most comfort. And I augment my faith with finding the goodness in the world and in the people within it. I have a friend in Costa Rica. Greg and I send pictures of fine art back and forth to each other and tell what it is about that particular piece that speaks to us on that day. Another friend and I send each other funny pictures and memes and videos to maintain a sense of connection with our similar humor.

The last week or so, a song has swirled around in my mind. Just a snippet floating into and out of my consciousness. I remember hearing it during that dark time of sadness surrounding my second divorce. I felt defeated, abandoned, and decidedly “less than”. It was called “Adjust Your Dreams” and was attached to another song “Shining My Flashlight” during a live recording by none other than...Christine Lavin.

I’ve seen Christine a couple of times in concert. Small, intimate venues in which she sat at a table in the lobby before the show and painted my nails. (Just that act alone signals a simpler time when we didn’t think of catching or spreading some deadly disease through casual social contact.) I had a delightful conversation with her and enjoyed her shows immensely. A few years later, she and I communicated briefly when I was trying to organize a concert at the luxury resort Mr. Virgo and I worked at in Pagosa Springs. It didn’t work out and I was always bummed about that.

Since “Adjust Your Dreams” was circling around my brain, I went on the prowl through Google and couldn’t find it anywhere. I really wanted to use that today for “Feel Good Friday”, so I sent Ms. Lavin a note through her website and asked if there might be a recording or video somewhere. She didn’t have a copy but put it out on her FB page and within minutes, the recording was in my inbox!

We all have had dreams. Dreams of what we want our lives to be. Dreams of how we want things to work. We may even find our dreams come true and we are living them in the moment. Then something so unforeseen, so unthinkable, so utterly devastating comes along and takes our dreams away in little bites over a very short period of time and we find ourselves drifting. This is how the last few months have felt to me.

Christine’s song...just a few verses, really...is uplifting. When we find ourselves in the midst of dashed dreams, we need to adjust our dreams and make new ones. We’re not quite there yet. Right now, it feels like we are essentially riding down some pretty rough Class VI whitewater... blindfolded. I know I am not alone in this. I know God is in control and is bigger than any of this and He does not change no matter what is going on in the world. And I also know, I’m not the only one feeling this way. We are all in the same boat.

Here is Christine’s song she so generously shared with me. The last bit of the song is done with this really cool recording device where she sings different parts and it ends up sounding like a dozen voices. If you don’t know her music, do give her a listen. She is fun and upbeat and sometimes a bit irreverent and her music is good for what ails you. You can find her on FB and YouTube as well as her catalog on iTunes. I hope you enjoy it.

Adjust Your Dreams - Shining My Flashlight on the Moon
by Christine Lavin

❤️

“"For I the Lord do not change...”
Malachi 3:6 ESV

Day 17: My “Dressy Mask”

Thu, 02 Apr 2020 01:30:00 -0600

“My new look...it ranks right up there with overgrown bangs and a barn coat!”

Yesterday was filled with good news, but it got a slow start. Mr. FixIt had an appointment at 9:00 which means he woke me at 8:00. Which means I’d had a solid two hours of sleep. I just haven’t slept much at all since I started feeling bad. I’d lay there and wonder if it was coronavirus. I would surreptitiously take my temperature every hour on the hour. I could not turn my mind off.

When I had trouble waking up, my sweet husband lovingly offered to let me sleep and he went off to his appointment by himself. They wouldn’t have let me in the room anyway so I couldn’t have been much help. I was asleep before he left the house.

I had an appointment to follow up with this parathyroid issue and the scans they did. When I arrived, this time I had to tell the medical staff at the makeshift desk in the lobby that I’ve been having some symptoms that could possibly be attributed to coronavirus. This time I was ushered to a room with a young woman in full hazmat regalia and carefully questioned. The really good news is...the nurse practitioner is convinced my symptoms are a combinations of severe allergies and the parathyroid issues. I’m trusting she is right. Also, it does not appear to be cancer. However, I still have a parathyroid tumor that is causing hyperparathyroidism and that has to be addressed with an endocrinologist in June.

I had to make a run to the pharmacy to pick up some meds. Yesterday was the first day I have gone out with a mask. Partly because I was concerned I could possibly make someone sick. Partly because I didn’t want to get sick from anyone else. As I stood in line at the pharmacy, a woman turned and asked where I got my mask.

“I bought it last summer to mow the grass. I have asthma and I can easily end up with really bad bronchitis and have to be hospitalized for it, so now I wear an N95 mask. They came two to a package. I have one of them hanging on the riding mower to remind me to wear it. This one is my “dressy mask” for going out.”

“The all new Easter Mask for your spring ensemble!”

She hesitated a moment then we both broke out laughing at the absurdity of a “dressy mask”. I told her it was soon to be all the rage. People will be adding glitter and sequins and ruffles before long. It made for a lighter moment in a scary situation. If you would have told either one of us last Thanksgiving that, before Easter, we would be walking around wearing masks and schools would be out and people would be working from home, if they were working at all....we would never have believed you.

I honestly felt more comfortable being out in the mask. And, I could see why the medical experts are concerned that wearing a mask would give people a false sense of security and they wouldn’t take the other precautions as seriously. When I was in x-ray school, I had to learn about maintaining a sterile field. The average person doesn’t have a clue how to maintain that. It isn’t easy and is totally opposite of what we normally do in our daily living.

The good news is, we are learning new skills. And we will continue to learn them because we are a resourceful species.

The very best news is, Mr. FixIt has met with all the specialists he needed to see after his stroke in February and he has been given a clean bill of health. We are so very grateful to get another chance at this beautiful life.

Oh, and today is Daughter #2’s birthday. She turns thirty today...a monumental time in a woman’s life. And, she’s doing it during a pandemic...on a day where it’s supposed to snow. This gal has been knocked down so many times by life and she keeps getting back up...time after time. It’s a heck of a way to ring in the Big 3-0, but “resilient” is her middle name. Happy Birthday, Moon Pie...I love you to the moon, eleventy-seventy-teen times and back!

❤️

“For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord...”
Jeremiah 30:17 ESV

Day 15: Glitter Virus de Corona

Tue, 31 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Imagine the coronavirus is glitter and you can see how easily it spreads to EVERYTHING!

When Little was about six years old, she looked at me with adoring eyes every grandma swoons over and said, “You know Nana...I’m a maker, just like you!” (❤️MELT!) And, indeed she is. She is creative, artistic, witty, and an extraordinarily deep thinker. She is going to be thirteen in May, so she is currently in that stage where most adults fall in the idiot column. But, I have no doubt she will turn around someday and be my mini-me again.

I’m not sure who gave her the glitter, but being the artist she is, someone filled her up with a gigantic supply. Glitter. Beads. Markers. Paints. All manner of brushes and paper and canvas upon which to glue, smear, splash, and enjoy with great abandon. Which is exactly what she did. Daughter #1 had declared there will be no new carpet until Little goes away to college because she just cannot stomach the idea of MORE glitter.

They have glitter everywhere. You cannot...can NOT...go into their house without getting glitter on you, no matter where you stand, sit, or lie down. Not matter how many times they vacuum, sweep, wipe, dust, or mop. It is impervious and permanent. I saw a meme the other day comparing coronavirus to glitter and it makes perfect sense.

Let’s say you go to Little’s house and get glitter on you, but you didn’t go to the bathroom so you don’t wash your hands and you’re in a hurry. You’re careful because you don’t touch your face so there’s no glitter there. You get in your car and stop at the gas station for gas. You go inside to buy a soda and a candy bar. You can’t decide which candy bar you want. You pick up one and read the calorie count and put it down. By the third or fourth bar, you realize they all have roughly the same calorie count so you put it back and go pick out a piece of fruit. you squeeze a couple of apples and an orange and finally choose a banana. You open the cooler and pull out a soda. then, at the last minute, you think, “Maybe I should have water instead. I’m having fruit, after all.” You put the soda back, grab a water and go up to the counter and pay.

You pull out the money for your purchase and pay, throwing the change down into the bottom of your purse. You head back out to the car and drive to the post office, the bank, the vet, the hair salon, and make a final stop at Walmart. Somewhere in there, you have washed your hands at least once or twice. But every time you got back in the car or picked up your keys or drank out of that soda or ate that banana or opened your car door...you got glitter on you again. And, every time you touched something that others will touch, you leave glitter that they pick up and carry with them.

We have all had experience with the persistence of glitter...be it an art project or a Christmas card. Once you get it on you, you have to work at it to get rid of it. The same thing goes for a bacteria or virus. The only thing is, you can’t see them so that makes them even more nefarious.

We are all going through various stages of grief over this pandemic and will continue to do so over the coming weeks and months. The enormity of the changes this will bring has only just begun to settle around the edges of my mind in the last few days. Beyond the actual virus and potential illness itself lies uncertainty I am beginning to uncover within myself. Humans are creatures of habit and change doesn’t always come easy to some. But, change is my middle name and all those changes that were thrust upon me in grief are tools for this toolbox as well.

Remember when you do have to go out...think of all that glitter you could be picking up. Keep used grocery bags in your car to use as emergency “gloves” for opening doors and pumping gas. Carry a container of your own wipes with you. And keep washing your hands...a lot. I have been reading rumblings they may be seeing evidence of the flattening of the curve which means the social distancing thing is working. Let’s hope so because there are a lot of hospitals already working at capacity.

Keep all the helpers in your prayers. They need us...now more than ever!

❤️

“So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
2 Corinthians 12:7-10 ESV

Day 14: When Times are Hard

Mon, 30 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

“This brush fire was alarming when it was only a couple of miles from the farm.”

When times are hard, the little extra things that come along can really add up and become overwhelming if you aren’t careful. Some days are just out of control. Actually...they all are lately. But yesterday was a winner. We had a great day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, it was warm enough to have the windows open to air out the house. Then, about 3:00 in the afternoon, the power went out. It was a really windy day and this often happens at this time of year in the country. A tree comes down on a power line, and depending on where it is, it may or may not be an easy fix.

Mr. FixIt decided to go out and mow since our binge-watching of West Wing was interrupted. I decided to gather up my laundry and head out to the farm. When I pulled off the main road onto our little country lane, I smelled smoke. Not half a mile in, there was a column of white smoke and several firefighters and local people were working on a brush fire. A tree had come down and knocked a live wire down into the fallen leaves. The entire hillside was in flames and my cousin’s wife had a generator in the back of her truck running a pump to get water up from the creek.

We’re really out in the boonies there. We don’t have city water out that road so there’s no fire hydrants. Most houses that catch fire just burn to the ground. While this fire wasn’t immediately threatening any structures, there were some not terribly far away. The farm is another two miles down the road so I’m certain there is no danger there.

Needless to say, when I got to the farm, there was no electric. I called to check on an elderly neighbor down the road. I called my uncle to let him know about the fire but that I didn’t feel there was a threat to the house. And then I called Mr. FixIt to tell him I was just going to turn around and come home.

When I got back down the road to where the fire was, a fire truck was now parked across both lanes and I couldn’t get through. I don’t think they would have let me through anyway because now the fire was down at the edge of the road and the little valley was filled with thick, white smoke. I took a few pictures and headed back out the road to go the long way around.

I thought I would stop in the little town near the Ponderosa and pick up a gallon of milk but the power was still off and all three stores were closed. I got home and Mr. FixIt was almost finished with half the mowing. He asked if I wanted to take over and I jumped on the tractor for my first mow of the season. The weather was perfect and I got as much mowed as I could before dark.

Mr. FixIt ran an extension cord from the generator into the house so I could have a lamp in the kitchen. I didn’t want to have the refrigerator door open very long so I grabbed half a kielbasa, an onion, and a can of sliced potatoes. I chopped the onion, sliced the sausage, and added the potatoes to a skillet with a little butter in it and fried it all together. In five minutes we had a quick meal from stuff we had on hand...and it was so yummy!

We moved the lamp to the living room and I headed to the bedroom to write. I can’t hear the frogs over the generator. Actually, there’s not a more annoying sound than a generator running as far as I’m concerned. But it was music to my ears when I think of so many who don’t have that luxury. I’ll wear my earplugs and call it good.

It’s just another thing. A small inconvenience. Maybe it was God’s way of saying...”Get outside and away from the television and the news!”

❤️

“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;”
2 Corinthians 4:8-9 ESV

Day 10: Remember the Good Ol’ Days?

Thu, 26 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

A kitchen from long, long ago. Could you live like this again if you had to? Who will teach the skills to the younger generations who may want to learn them? I don’t see us returning to these times, per se. but we could sure stand to live a little less frenetically and lot more self-sufficiently.

When someone says “Remember the good ol’ days?” now, they could just as easily be referring to last month than 100 years ago. Remember when we could go out to the movies? Remember when we could eat at restaurants? I love reminiscing and looking at old photos like this one. It reminds me of what they called “a simpler time”. But was it, really?

Look at this kitchen. That stove didn’t get started with the turn of a knob. Someone had to cut, haul, and chop wood. They had to split kindling and stack it all near the back door. This was done every day or you ate cold food. With those boots under the stove, I’d say there are some hard working men and boys in that house and they eat a ton of food. That woman is cooking three squares and baking all her own bread and biscuits. She had to tend a garden, preserve the food, store it properly. Hopefully there are a couple of other young girls around to help with the washing and cleaning and all the other jobs on the farm.

I believe that is the family “washing machine” the woman is using. This must have been an incredible convenience item to relieve her of scrubbing heavy wet work clothes on a washboard. The water had to be toted from the well, stream, cistern, or spring. It had to be heated in large pots on that stove. She had to save up the ash from the wood stove to make lye. She also saved the lard from butchering and rendered it for use in baking, cooking, and making assorted salves and soaps.

That woman was the family doctor. She gathered herbs and medicinal plants, using knowledge handed down from generation to generation. She may have been the only midwife in a twenty mile radius. She milked the dairy cow out behind the barn...twice a day...and raised the cream to churn butter. Her sewing rocker is in the kitchen. Here is where she read her bible as the biscuits rose. She sewed and mended her family’s clothing to conserve them for longer wear. When they couldn’t be mended anymore, she cut them up and sewed the pieces together to make quilts.

There wasn’t a lot of socializing in this day and age. There might be women who gathered for a quilting bee or to throw a wedding or a funeral. A woman valued those precious moments she shared with other women. The children were sent out of the house after breakfast and they came home at supper time. They walked to church and the one room schoolhouse down the road....maybe miles away. Or, if they were really lucky, they might have a horse or two...or maybe even a wagon for when they needed to make longer trips.

I show pictures like this to my grandkids and they just stare at it like it’s an alien planet. I was looking at the woman in the picture. My first thought was, this is the grandma. And, it could be. But I wouldn’t doubt it a bit if that’s the mom. All that hard work and all those babies made the womenfolk age well beyond their years.

I would never call this “a simpler time” in regard to the work that was put in on a daily basis. Yet, compared to the manic hustle most people live with today, I would say it is simpler in many ways. I had to smile the other day. Daughter #2, who showed very little interest in learning anything “old timey” when she was growing up called to say this pandemic has made her think about her life and how she’s living it. She wants to raise a garden. She would like to learn how to be more self-sufficient. Her mama is SO excited by this!!! I sent her pictures of the Encyclopedia of Country Living and the Ball Book of Food Preservation. This is a common ground I have longed to share with my kids.

This pandemic is scary as heck. And it’s shaken many of us to the core. But, as I’ve been saying from the beginning, there will be gems in the flames of this. There will be great sadness, and there will also be great revolution. I hope we have awakened a sleeping giant.

❤️

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9 ESV

Day 9: Kindness Changes Everything

Wed, 25 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Take a deep breath and be kind to each other.

If there was ever a time to be kind, it is now. Under normal, everyday circumstances the emotional climate would be highly individualized. These people happy, these people sad. These people stressed, these people relaxed. There would be clusters of people sharing the same emotions surrounding a particular event like a wedding, a death, a concert, a family gathering. Never in our lifetime has there been such a global group of people sharing the same emotional event at the same time. For those of us who can easily pick up on the vibes of others, this feels like having your brain in a frying pan set on high. Those of us who have gone through it know this feeling. It has a name. Grief.

Needless to say, everyone is living with a heightened set of emotions. We are all experiencing grief in a collective way. Whether you are fearful, anxious, filled with dread. Or resolved, determined, keeping calm and carrying on. All of these states of being are emotionally taxing and make burnout a very real possibility. This elevation of being can make us respond and relate in ways that are totally unexpected and unlike the person we really are.

That’s why we saw people getting in fights over toilet paper last week. It was crazy to us...but it was perfectly rational to those people who were in the moment. I think we all need to step back and breathe a little. Do a little meditation. Do a little yoga. Say a little prayer. Light a candle. Take a bubble bath. Drink a nice cup of tea. Go for a walk. I know I’m being repetitive here and I’ve said these things before, but I can’t reiterate enough how important it is to practice self care when you grieve.

If we burn ourselves out now, we aren’t going to have the energy to fight anything that’s coming our way. We need to be our healthiest selves. We need to focus on eating good, immune boosting foods. We need to avoid lots of empty calories like sugar and alcohol. We need to resist the temptation to zone out till it all passes over...immersed in junk TV and junkier food.

Above all, we need to practice kindness...to each other, and to ourselves. Kindness goes a long way toward soothing ragged nerves. West Virginia’s numbers doubled yesterday. And there’s a case in Wood County now, so it’s here. My stepson calls us every day to check in. He’ll pick up whatever we need and bring it out to us. We have two medical appointments...one tomorrow, one Thursday...and then we are home for a solid week. We are taking every precaution.

I find I’m not accomplishing what I thought I would do. I have yet to start stripping the wallpaper in the dining room. I haven’t started sorting through papers or getting rid of junk. I’ve been binge-watching West Wing with Mr. FixIt and staying to maintain social distance from the refrigerator. I resisted baking again today, but we have some rapidly browning bananas so I’m going to be forced to do something with them because I don’t want them to go to waste.

Here’s your helpful hint for today:

Just because the IRS has postponed the filing date to July 15th for federal taxes does not necessarily mean your state has followed suit. As a matter of fact, there are very few states that have. As of this writing, West Virginia has maintained April 15th. Since we have to file state, we might as well file federal at the same time. It’s my goal to get that done next week.

Here is a link to TurboTax with an explanation.

Hang in there, dear ones. It’s about to get bumpy...but we can get through this. Whatever your faith or inclination...be it prayer or good thoughts or positive energy...keep sending it. We need all the help we can get!

❤️

“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”
Romans 12:12 ESV

#Hope, #Trials, #COVID19

Day 8: This Little Piggy Stayed Home

Tue, 24 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Be like this little piggy and stay home!

We had to go out again yesterday...this time to a doctor visit. The news was good...Mr. FixIt has a heart! And it’s in pretty good shape for a guy his age. After Losing Mr. Virgo to a sudden heart attack, and then Mr. FixIt had the stroke...I pretty much insisted they do a cardiac work up. We are breathing an even bigger sigh of relief over here.

The governor of West Virginia ordered us to “stay-at-home” beginning this evening. Except for the doctor, the emergency room, the grocery or pharmacy, gas stations, construction stores...you know, all the places we normally gone anyway. He even said it was fine to go to the state parks and go fishing! Other than restaurants, not much has changed as far as where we are allowed to go. What HAS changed is the going.

I was thinking about this yesterday. What is it about being told to do something, like stay at home, and the only thing in the whole wide world you want to do is NOT stay at home. BUT...have a busy week of running errands and having appointments and the only thing you want is to just have a day at home with no trips to town. It’s crazy. It’s like being told to take a nap as a toddler. Now I’d give up a lot just to take a nap!

Governors are resorting to this extra measure because just telling people to stay home wasn’t working. Because there’s an inordinate amount of people who think rules don’t apply to them. They are merely suggestions...more like guidelines, really. They say you can get a ticket if you’re out and about but I ask you, what good would that do when all you have to say is -I’m going to the grocery store-?

Daughter #2 is an anxious sort. She is so much like her mama in so many ways. I wish I could have given my kids anything but anxiety and depression. It is what it is. She called last evening and I recognized that quivering “I’m fine” tone of voice. So, I talked her down off the ledge and she felt stronger and more in control by the time we rang off. We talked about everything...from ways to conserve toilet paper to what was the name of that book you were telling me about.

We talked about making plans and writing them down. What do you want to accomplish this week? This month? Six months? A year? She wants to be more self-sufficient so she doesn’t have to worry so much. Good. Check with the City of Denver...can you have chickens? Look for used pallets you can turn into a chicken coop. You want a garden? Great! Start planting seeds in peat pots so you’ll have seedlings to plant when the weather warms up. Mark out where you want a garden and get your exercise spading it up.

We have to be proactive regarding our mental health during crises such as this. Just because we need to stay at home doesn’t mean we need to stay inside 24/7. Even if you only walk around your house or your building or down your block and back, getting some fresh air in the middle of the day does wonders for your spirits. Build a routine. Set your clock for mental health breaks. Drink a cup of soothing herbal tea. Play some music and sing along. Take a bubble bath. Draw a picture. If you sew, look up how to make masks for people since there is a critical shortage.

You might want to practice a little social distancing from your refrigerator. Packing on a few pounds during this quarantine won’t help your health and you certainly won’t feel better. Try on a pair of jeans every few days to make sure they fit. As my dear friend Deneene says, sweats or pajama pants will trick you into believing all is well in the kingdom. I was going to make an apple pie last night, but then I decided not to. We had already had two pies in the last ten days. I’ve been losing weight and I don’t want to put it back on. We can have treats...just once or twice a week, not every day.

Humans are a resourceful lot. We can figure out other ways to do things. We can make something out of nothing. We can recycle, reuse, repurpose just about anything. We’ve become pretty complacent in this life. I know I have. But, my years of reading Mother Earth News and the Encyclopedia of Country Living have been preparing me for a moment such as this. Some of us may not get through this. Those of us that do must take it upon themselves to apply the lessons learned so that we might not be caught so flat-footed next time. When I meditated on this last night, a thought came to me.

My friend Uma Girish was preparing to facilitate a group call when she asked her inner guidance what she should share. This is what she received:

“The virus is not the enemy. The virus is The Messenger.”

Yes...the virus can be horrifying. Yes...people can and will die. But it brings us a message...loud and clear.

Raise your head and look beyond where you stand so you might better prepare for what is coming.

Remember what is really important in this life.

Look at what we are doing to our world...to the environment. We are slowly killing it and now...it is rapidly attacking us.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Cause and effect. I don’t think it’s too late, but we’re going to have to make some big changes and we all know...while change is good, it is not always easy. Change, we must. We have no other choice now.

Maybe God’s just putting us in a time out so we can think about what we have done to the garden He gave us.

❤️

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
Philippians 2:4 ESV

Day 7: Creative Social Distancing

Mon, 23 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

The flowering quince and forsythia are blooming outside our bedroom window. Mother Nature once again demonstrates life comes back.

Ok, we have been practicing social distancing for a week now. Well, actually...it’s been a month since Mr. FixIt’s stroke and we haven’t spent more than a couple of hours apart in that entire time. That’s ok...I am happy to be here for my sweetheart and take care of him to the best of my ability. I love him to the moon and back. AND...we get very close to standing on each other’s last nerve sometimes. Perfectly normal under normal circumstances. These are anything BUT normal circumstances!

We still have lots of doctor appointments and are considering our options as far as postponing. Some we may, some we really should not. However, we may have our dilemma decided for us if the offices call and cancel themselves. In the meantime, I’m going to get outside this week and clean out the camper so that I will have my little sanctuary to escape to. Also, if my Colorado girls have to bug out and come someplace safe where they can live off the land and be self sufficient, we may need the camper as alternative housing during this social isolation. We’re just keeping our options open.

This has truly been the weirdest week of my life...of all of our lives, I imagine. It’s like waking up in a George Orwell novel. I’ve been collecting little nuggets of wisdom.

Use plastic grocery sacks or doggy poop bags as “gloves” for opening door handles, handling money, and pumping gas leaving gloves for healthcare workers.

Try to avoid buying up the WIC items when shopping so that moms on WIC don’t have to go home empty handed. They cannot use their WIC coupons for anything but WIC items. Maybe they’ll change that temporarily, I don’t know.

Sing the Doxology as you wash your hands...it’s 20 seconds and you’ve praised God at the same time.

Have “the talk” with your loved ones about what you would want done should the unthinkable happen. It is not morbid...it is an act of love. Tell three people, and tell them who the other two are and that they should communicate in the event you become seriously ill.

Spend this time organizing your papers. Write things down...passwords, account numbers, important information. Write letters to your loved ones and stick them in a desk drawer.

I’ll write more as I think of them or run across hints that are helpful. In the meantime, Mother Nature is showing us that life does return. It is a promise.

Today’s Question:

Are you eating comfort food or trying to maintain a healthy diet?

❤️

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world."”
John 16:33 ESV

Day Five: Love in the Time of CoVid

Sat, 21 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Blackberry pie...sunshine in a slice!

Thankfully we didn’t need to venture to town yesterday. Instead, we took a drive over to the farm to check in. Oh...what an amazingly warm day it was. I actually saw the thermometer at 79! All was well at the home place. The daffodils are blooming as are the forsythia and the flowering quince. The irises are shooting their flat, sword-like blades out from the wet, awakening earth. As you drive out through the country, the bushes along the roadsides are gaining a green, ghostly hue as the leaves begin to form.

This is rockslide season and we saw evidence of several...one was actually encroaching on the road. The highway crew hadn’t gotten to it yet. It is supposed to get chilly again this weekend and then I wouldn’t be surprised if we stay in the high 50’s, low 60’s for a while. I don’t think there’s much of a chance of having another freeze this spring.

Speaking of spring, with all the madness going on in the world, I totally missed the first day of spring! It’s here...even though it is highly overshadowed this time.

I read something yesterday that someone shared. It was a letter to the humans from the vantage point of the CoVid-19 virus. It spoke of how we haven’t been paying attention. We have been so busy chasing after stuff and working to achieve a lifestyle that is unsustainable, that finally the earth broke. There were horrific wildfires and we looked on with morbid curiosity and counted our blessings it wasn’t us. There were deadly hurricanes and we sighed and looked on with a tinge of sadness at the devastation. Then our attention shifted elsewhere and the thoughts and prayers were replaced with the next thing in the news cycle.

We as a people are so self-centered. We look out for number one. Maybe, just maybe this virus swooped in to get our attention...to wake us up to the devastation around us. To how unhealthy the world has become. And if the world is unhealthy, WE are unhealthy.

I saw a picture of a mega freeway in Los Angeles. There were eight cars on it. I think someone said it hadn’t seen that little traffic since the Watts Riots of 1965. I commented that maybe Mother Earth is going to be able to catch her breath. Maybe the skies will clear. Maybe the sun will shine a little brighter. Maybe the waters will freshen a little. Maybe the pH in the rain will normalize and the fish will flourish.

Maybe the quiet stillness will give us time to stop the frenetic pace we have set for ourselves and we can really connect with our family members...even if it’s through a window or over the phone or FaceTime. I’ve already noticed more caring for each other. Children are checking in with their parents to see how they’re doing. They are offering to run errands or go to the store. Strangers are helping strangers.

This is a time like no other we have faced. But, our grandparents and great grandparents were called to war. They were bombed and food was rationed. They grew victory gardens and knitted socks for troops. All we are being asked to do is stay home. While the threat of the disease itself is terribly disconcerting, we can do things to help prevent the spread.

I’ve heard the youngsters say, “Ah, it’s not going to affect me. It’s just the Boomers.” Well, first of all, no. It’s not just the Boomers. They are finding people much younger than they first thought are getting sick and some seriously. And...who do you think those Boomers (and the generation or so after them) are? They are the doctors, scientists, financial wizards, farmers...the experts. The ones who hold the keys to a great deal of knowledge. Those who say they’re “just Boomers” had better learn a whole lot pretty darned quickly.

I’m having nightmares. I rarely remember dreams, but I’m having dreams of death and dying. Too much news. Too much information. I had to step back and stop watching as much of it. I have to limit myself to a half hour of news a day. Just to stay up to speed with any breaking news. To counteract the bombardment of bad news, I’m putting in twice as much good.

Yesterday, I baked a pie. I went to the farm and sat in my grandma’s chair. I did an hour of meditation/yoga on Facebook Live with my dear Earth Mother yogi friend, Sue in Colorado. I snuggled the kitty. I walked around our property with Mr. FixIt. I made BBQ pulled pork sandwiches for supper and pie for dessert. And I spent time studying my bible devotionals. It was a good day...even though the virus is creeping closer.

My God is bigger than any virus. He’s bigger than any of my stuff. When I remember who’s in charge here and how this story ends, even if I caught the virus and went to Heaven...I win. Because HE won...and I put my faith in HIM.

I will not be afraid.

You can watch my friend Sue’s movement meditation video here.

❤️

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.”
Psalms 19:14 ESV

Day Four: Holy Cats...It’s Feel Good Friday!!!

Fri, 20 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

You can’t hide from “Feel Good Friday!”

One of the benefits of living in West Virginia is the rural nature of things makes social distancing pretty easy. After all...it’s what we’ve done for generations. It isn’t a big stretch for Mr. FixIt and me to hang around The Ponderosa or The Farm, but we do normally take several trips a week into town. We decided yesterday, the biggest change we’ve seen in our lives is not getting to dine out. I didn’t realize how often we eat meals away from home till that little luxury was taken away.

We had to make a trip to town yesterday. We got the estimate on the damage to the truck...to the tune of $3,000! Yikes! Thank God for insurance. Mr. FixIt had a doctor’s appointment. I was not allowed back with him. Have you ever accompanied a man to the doctor?

“So, how are things going?”

“Good.”

“Are you having any problems?”

“No, not really.”

“How’s that back pain?”

“About the same.”

“Is that new medicine I gave you last time helping.”

“I think so.”

“Any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Ok, then...you’re looking great! Let’s see you back in about three months.”

“Ok.”

?‍♀️

When Lorie told me I had to stay in the waiting room, I looked at Mr. FixIt and narrowed my eyes.

“You’d darn well better tell him everything!”

He’s a good listener...he was in there forever. And he came out and addressed every single thing I would have wanted checked.

What’s the message here? Oh...that he’s a grown man and can take care of himself in his appointments? Of course he can. Sheesh. But, that being said, men...no matter how diligent they are...sometimes forget the details of the conversation. Or they don’t quite grasp the subtle nuances of a new medication direction. Having a second set of ears helps tremendously, especially when they belong to someone who loves you. I also have the experience of sitting with Mr. Virgo and having him say no to every test our doctor wanted him to have and he was dead five months later. So, yeah...there’s that.

We went to Walmart to pick up some prescriptions and bought a new tire for the truck. It wasn’t very crowded and everyone was practicing social distancing. We didn’t hang around long though and we hightailed it back home where I prepared a sumptuous dinner of steak, broccoli, and baked potato.

There is always something to feel good about. For instance, yesterday Lester Holt told us to leave those boxes from Amazon outside for 24 hours because the virus can’t live that long on cardboard. He also said to wear gloves when you open the boxes because many of the products come from China. Why do I feel good about this? Well, I’ve been trying to cut down on my online (sometimes comfort) shopping and this is the perfect time. We can free up all those workers in the Amazon warehouses to focus on getting medical goods and critical supplies shipped and not have to worry about my books or batteries or what have you. And, I’ll be saving more money and who doesn’t need to be doing more of THAT right about now, am I right?

Another feel good thing...people are talking nicer to each other. At least, that’s been my experience these last few weeks. We are finally getting back a little of that “we’re all in this thing together” vibe and I don’t think it’s humanly possible to have my fill of that! Letting people in line in front of you. Standing back and letting someone have the first choice of a piece of meat...even if that means you don’t get the one you had your eye on. Texts and phone calls and “I love you’s”...these are the sweet sounds of compassion I’ve been yearning for so desperately the last few years.

I was telling someone yesterday that I listened to NY’s Governor Cuomo address the coronavirus on TV and he spoke so kindly. He was efficient and honest and came across as trustworthy and compassionate. When he spoke...even without listening to what he was saying...his voice was soothing, calming. He told folksy stories as a way to humanize this pandemic and allay our fears. I seriously felt my emotions well up in my chest and the sting of tears as I realized...we don’t hear enough of that. And we’re getting beat down because of it. Let’s not wait for the powers that be to be kind and compassionate. Let’s take the bull by the horns and do that ourselves.

This is exactly how we make THE WORLD great again. Because, all we’ve got is God and each other. And dogs. We’ve got dogs. Oh, and cats, and birds, and.......

❤️

“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”
Proverbs 17:17 ESV

Day Three: Expect the Unexpected

Thu, 19 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

First, you remove the spare tire from under the bed of the truck.

We picked up my truck from the mechanic on Tuesday. It was in the shop for ten days but it was fixed and didn’t cost an arm or leg. After breakfast yesterday and a quick update on the news, we decided to drive out to the farm for a little while. On our way, we were just getting ready to cross a bridge when three things happened...I looked ahead to the intersection to make sure no one was stopped, I glanced to my left at the empty campground someone set up just before the oil and gas business left town, and I caught a glimpse of a vehicle passing me in the opposite direction. I turned back to comment to Mr. FixIt that it was a shame that man didn’t set up the campground earlier when he could have made some money on it. Just then, we heard loud banging on the outside of the driver’s side of the truck and the clang of metal on the road.

I looked in the rear view mirror in time to see what looked like a four foot section of rebar go flying up behind my truck with one last smack on the side. It skittered down the road and I was so relieved to see there was no one driving right behind me. Immediately, the rear driver’s side tire started hissing air as I crossed the bridge and pulled into a convenience store parking lot.

Sure enough, the tire was giving off it’s final breath and the side of my truck looked like someone took a tire iron to it. It took a few moments to shake off the shock and try to figure out what happened. The best thing I can come up with is something fell off the truck that passed us and I ran over it. I didn’t see anything in the road before, but I was looking ahead and to my left so obviously I missed it.

Yes...I have AAA. But, you have to remember, we live in a town of a couple hundred people, we are in the midst of a national emergency, and it was fixin’ to rain. I didn’t really feel like we needed to call for AAA. That’s for times when Mr. FixIt isn’t around.

I set the jack up under the axle.

The first thing we had to do was get the jack out of the truck. Well, actually...the first thing we had to do was figure out where the jack is STORED in the truck. Trust me, it wasn’t apparent but we looked it up on YouTube (thank GOD we weren’t out of cell range yet...five to ten more minutes and we would have been.) Unfortunately, I STILL haven’t gotten around to emptying that truck of all my camping gear. I know...I figured if I just left it in there, sooner or later it would be camping time again, right?

I took stuff out of the back seat of the truck and we finally figured out how to get the jack out. I asked Mr. FixIt to let me change the tire so I would remember how to do it. That was one of the things my dad taught me when I was sixteen and I’ve probably only changed two tires my whole life. I wanted to know I could do it alone if necessary...and Mr. FixIt is wonderfully supportive in that.

I jacked the truck up till there was enough space under it to fit the inflated tire on.

I cranked down the spare tire under the bed of the truck and got it out. Man, it is REALLY heavy. I couldn’t pick it up, but I could scoot it along the ground till it was where it needed to be. I put the jack in place under the axle and got the truck raised up. I got the lug nuts off and Mr. FixIt reminded me to place them in the lid of the box the jack came in so I wouldn’t misplace any. Then it came time to remove the tire.

I pulled. I kicked, shoved, twisted, pulled, pried, pounded...nothing. That thing was frozen on there. A fellow came over and tried but he couldn’t make any headway either. Mr. FixIt tried...nothing. So, I gave in and called the guy from the garage where we picked up the truck on Tuesday because he just lives less than a mile from where we were. He came right down...with a sledge hammer. I told him I was really disappointed because I wanted to change it myself. He laughed and went to hand me the sledgehammer and we both laughed.

There was no way I could get that tire off by myself. Even the man who stopped to help and Mr. FixIt couldn’t budge it!

“Nah...that’s ok. I’ll just hand this job over to you.”

He got down under the truck and it took some pretty strong blows but it finally came loose. From that point, it wasn’t two minutes till the spare was on and the jack was out from under the truck. It took a little figuring, but we got the spare tire holder cranked back up under the truck, put everything back inside, and turned around. It wasn’t prudent to go out to the farm without a good spare. We stopped and filled the new tire with air and headed back home.

A few phone calls and the claim, an appointment for the estimate, and a rental car were all lined up. A hot bubble bath and I was good to go!

The enemy is pounding hard on all of us right now. But this was such an opportunity today. I got to refresh some skills I may need again down the road. I was in a safe place less than a mile from the help I ended up needing. I was fifty yards from the nearest air pump. My truck was drivable. I have a wonderful husband who supports my need for independence and courage. It reminded me of the worship song we sing in church.

“You took what the enemy meant for evil, and You turned it for good...You turned it for good!”

There are so many uncertainties right now and if we focus on that, things can seem so overwhelming. But as long as we are taking every precaution we can personally to stay safe, and we know we have God on our side, we can face anything that comes our way. Pray without ceasing for all of us. Be there for each other. Help in whatever way you possibly can while maintaining safety. And look for the opportunities this brings us...even if it’s just the opportunity to pray.

It takes a lot more than a national emergency and a flat tire to get THIS Girl Camper down!!!

❤️

“The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.”
Romans 16:20 ESV

Keeping our Distance: Day 2

Wed, 18 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

This is a time to look out for one another.

Honestly, our life here at The Ponderosa BCV (before Coronavirus) and ACV (after Coronavirus) isn’t that much different. That’s mainly because we are retired. I think we are affected more by Mr. FixIt’s continued recovery from his stroke than we are the global pandemic. We have been taking turns making breakfast. (He makes the BEST oats!)

Up until late afternoon, West Virginia was official the only state without a confirmed case of COVID-19. Governor Justice announce there has been on confirmed case over in the Eastern Panhandle. However, I have a friend from high school...a retired nurse. She says her son and daughter-in-law tested positive last week in Morgantown and it was never reported. So, who knows what’s really going on.

West Virginia runs 50th in so many things, it looks like we are running 50th in the number of tests being performed as well. You know it has to be here. All we can to is practice good hygiene and social distancing.

The garage called today and my truck was ready so we went to pick it up. While it took the guy a week-and-a-half to finish, it cost a third of what it would have at the dealership.

We watched the news together, but only to hear if there are more directives. I baked a pie with some blackberries from the freezer and made a casserole of pork roast, veggies and noodles. We are determined to eat through all the fresh stuff before it goes bad so we don’t waste a thing.

After dessert, I excused myself to write my post. I sat and thought about what we should talk about tonight. Yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day. Mr. Virgo loved St. Patrick’s Day. Just about every year, I had to go buy green food coloring at the last minute so the bar could serve green beer. These memories make me smile. However, Mr. Virgo was buried the day before St. Patrick’s Day. And that always makes me think.

He warned me before he died that bad things were going to start happening in this country. Things with politics, finances, and health. He said it felt like a rubber band was drawing too tight or like a balloon being overfilled. I don’t know if he had a premonition, or if it was just his love of history and world events that spurred him, but he was constantly telling me to be prepared.

I wanted to believe him, but it seemed so fantastical at the time. Still, his warnings have never left me and I do find myself more prepared than I might have been before. I have friends who have lost spouses in the last year....two in the last week. When I think back over the months after losing Mr. Virgo...it was so terribly difficult to cope. And that was in a stable world. I cannot imagine what these people are going through without their person. To try to navigate this AND actively grieve is an unbearable thought.

It doesn’t just take a death to trigger grief. You may be grieving the loss of security the COVID-19 virus is bringing to our lives. When things happen beyond our control, it can trigger grief reactions and PTSD. When I begin to feel frightened, I change my focus back to God and remind myself...no matter what happens here, He will never leave me. Even with that, I walk around with a little knot in the pit of my stomach. I take all the unknowns that I have no control over and put them in the God box and set outside the front door.

All in all, we are doing just fine. We’re just taking it one day at a time.

So, how are things with you in your world. Are you feeling ok? What are you doing with your time? How have things changed for you in the last couple of weeks? Let me hear from you...tell me how you're doing.

❤️

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2:4‬ ‭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

What Happens if Nothing Happens?

Mon, 16 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

This is what most of our stores looked like this weekend. It won’t always be this way.

We’ve been listening intently to the news. We’ve followed every story, listened to every nightmarish tale, seen and heard things we wish we’d never seen or heard. We’ve pillaged the stores in a way that would make a Viking proud. We’ve hoarded toilet paper, hand sanitizer, gloves, masks, and cleaners. Our pantries are stocked with everything from diapers to donuts. We’ve got every medicine available for every eventuality. The schools are closed. The stores are cutting back hours to give the staff enough time to restock. The hospitals are rationing supplies and making contingency plans for every possible scenario. And so...we wait.

We are socially distancing ourselves. We are staying home...away from crowds and germs. We are binge watching every series on Netflix that sparks our interest. We are learning new skills. We are putting away food and reading. We are checking in on those who might need our help. We are watching church online or on television. We are reaching out with phone calls and texts and, dare I say...handwritten letters.

And...we wait.

And wait some more.

What happens if...after we’ve waited and waited and sacrificed and been inconvenienced... What happens if...nothing happens? No big surge of disease. No drastic sudden influx of all these “hundreds of thousands of sick people?”

I’ll tell you what SHOULD happen. We should breathe a HUGE sigh of relief because it means what we did...WORKED. It means we flattened the curve. It means we sacrificed our usual routines and made the most of it and we saved countless lives.

I know there will be a bunch of us who do that very thing. We’ll high five and say “Well done!” We’ll thank everyone in healthcare and the service industries. We will do our best to boost up the mom and pop business that took a hit from the shutdowns. We will praise our health officials who made difficult and unpopular decisions. And hopefully, we’ll remember to thank God for never leaving us in our darkest hours.

If we have an ounce of forethought...a shred of decency...a touch of humanity we WON’T be that person who stands up and screams that it was all a hoax. That the whole thing was conjured up to throw an election or to make any one person or party look bad. That is petty. We must be better than that.

If we gain anything...just one tiny thing from this whole meshugas...it’s that we start looking for the humanity in each other again. We need to start finding love and kindness again. We need to remember...we may be different wings, but we’re flying the same bird here. Please, for the love of God...let’s turn something that’s potentially terrible into something that helps us see the divine in each other.

Let’s let the legacy of the coronavirus be compassion.

❤️

“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

Panic! At the Grocery

Tue, 10 Mar 2020 01:30:00 -0600

Don’t panic...use caution and common sense.

Yesterday was so great. It started out with an MRI that took for-ev-er but was really pretty easy, as far as those things go. Poor Mr. FixIt has claustrophobia so he has to be medicated to have an MRI. He wasn’t always like that. He has worked in a field where he needed to crawl into tight places to work and design better ways of doing things. But when he had an MRI, the technician told him to just yell if he had any trouble. He started getting panicky and yelled, but the guy didn’t answer so he climbed out of the machine. That was the end of that...it’s either meds or alcohol. Take your pick.

Out of all the things that frighten me, an MRI just isn’t one of them. Partly because I worked in the medical field for so long, I have a healthy understanding of how it all works. And partly because I am extremely good at creative visualization. I can picture myself anywhere else...clearly. As the MRI machine roared to life with that knocking and banging and whirring, it reminded me of that time I got to run a bulldozer. My cousin’s husband was building a cabin up on a mountain and had to bring his dozer down. (It’s called walking it down, even though you are driving it.) That was truly one of the coolest things I have ever done and I spent the whole MRI envisioning it.

I needed to have a lot of scans then they pulled me out of the machine, gave me an injection of Gallium (a mild radioactive substance mixed with iodine that made a bee-line for my thyroid to light it up), then they put me back in to finish the scan. The technician remarked that I was holding so still and I was so calm. She wanted to know my secret. I told her I was bulldozing the lot where we’re going to build our new house. She looked at me and laughed and told me she had never heard that one before. I’m sure not! I’m quirky that way. lol

When I was finally finished with the scan and we had a healthy breakfast in us, we ran some errands. One stop was Sam’s Club. We did our “prepper run” last week when we bought a bunch of meat and packaged it up for the freezer and a bunch of canned and dry goods for the pantry. I tried to buy some toilet paper last week but Mr. FixIt reminded me we had a full bulk pack we haven’t even opened yet, as well as several other rolls. He convinced me we didn’t need more.

But yesterday, he and I almost came to blows in the toilet paper aisle at Sam’s because I felt absolutely compelled to buy more toilet paper. His solid reasoning and calm demeanor finally convinced me to let go of the package, but ohhhhhh....I really, REALLY wanted to buy that and I couldn’t for the life of me tell you why. I just NEEDED it. Then, I came across this great article explaining exactly WHY I wanted to buy that toilet paper and I was reassured of two things. I’m not crazy. And, I have a very cool headed husband I need to listen to when the panic starts to seep in.

You can read that article HERE.

When we were finished shopping, we went to City Park and walked 1.25 miles. It was 72℉ out and sunny. What an absolutely stellar day! The spring flowers are just starting to bloom, the trees are budding, and I’ve even heard peepers. (Although, someone has put in a double wide on the lot next to our property. There used to be an old pond out there and they filled it in to make enough yard around the house. I’m so afraid that has wiped out a whole colony of my favorite little frogs.)

Home, played with the kitty, made a pot of chili and apple crisp, and watched The Voice. It was really a great day...and I didn’t succumb to the panic surrounding the Coronavirus. Just keep washing those hands!

❤️

“He sent out his word and healed them, and delivered them from their destruction.”
Psalms 107:20 ESV

There’s Poor...and Then There’s Poverty

Sat, 07 Mar 2020 02:30:00 -0600

We’ve always thought of the POOR as being from other countries. More and more the POOR are living among us right here in America.

When I say we were poor growing up, compared to others we were doing just fine. Sure, we ate a lot of food from Grandma’s garden in the summers and took the canned jars home that she offered us. We had to make a pound of hamburger feed four...two of them male with hearty appetites. And my dad used to grow a garden on the empty lot out behind our house. I remember we would get half a beef and eat from the freezer for a year. We didn’t have a lot of extras, and we lived in a small, modest house in a clean, safe neighborhood...so we were actually pretty golden.

It wasn’t like my mom’s upbringing out on the farm in the post-depression poverty of the 1930’s. Grandma once told me, if it hadn’t been for the cow, her family of eight would have starved to death. They grew and canned their own food, had a cow and a couple of pigs, and grew a patch of sorghum for their only sweet...molasses. It was a hard life. Still, five out of the six went to college.

When I left West Virginia in 1973, I was a newlywed and just graduated from x-ray school. I headed out into the world with great hopes and joined my husband in England where he was stationed with the Air Force. I couldn’t work overseas without going back to school and we wouldn’t be stationed there long enough to even finish. So, we had a baby instead.

Living life in the military in the ‘70s wasn’t too bad when you were overseas because you got a stipend for living in a foreign country. When we got back home, though...that was a different story. We were stationed in Colorado where the cost of living has always been higher. We were lucky to get an apartment through HUD housing. It was brand new...had never been lived in. I felt like we were living high on the hog...even when we had nothing more than the barest essentials.

When Hubby #1 and I separated, I was still in HUD housing. The only difference was, I started receiving WIC and Food Stamps to supplement the small part-time job. It was hard to get a job when you haven’t worked in your chosen career since school and it’s been two years. I was lucky to find that one.

Eventually, things improved. I moved up in my career field, made more money, moved in with a friend and shared expenses. I remarried when Daughter #1 was five years old and Hubby #2 was in medical school. We struggled to make ends meet as I supported us while he was in school. We struggled as he joined his first practice. And then, things got much, much better and we didn’t struggle anymore.

I know I’ve been blessed by that union in many ways. It gave me Daughter #2 and it gave me the ability to buy a house when the marriage ended. When Mr. Virgo came along five years later, we joined our households and life was very good. I haven’t had to make a choice between medicine and food. I lived in a camper for three years after Mr. Virgo died because I WANTED to...not because I HAD to. There’s a big difference there.

Once I settled back in West Virginia, I saw much more poverty than I remembered growing up. I know ours is not the only state, but there are places here in this beautiful state that are struggling like third world countries struggle. My friend Diane sent me a video tonight that broke my heart. A single mom, trying to raise her kids in WV and what she has to do to bare get by. You can see the video HERE. She is articulate and on point and I think she should run for State Delegate and help fix this.

Unfortunately, poverty is the only “trickle down economics” that is demonstrable. It’s a family disease that gets handed down through the generations and it’s extremely hard to break out of the poverty cycle. I’ve seen it in my own extended family. It’s not the same world where Grandma fed her family with a cow and a garden. There’s an ever widening chasm between the haves and the have nots and it’s our children’s children who will pay the biggest price for it.

❤️

“"If your brother becomes poor and cannot maintain himself with you, you shall support him as though he were a stranger and a sojourner, and he shall live with you. Take no interest from him or profit, but fear your God, that your brother may live beside you. You shall not lend him your money at interest, nor give him your food for profit.”
Leviticus 25:35-37 ESV

It’s Mud Season: An Ordinary Day

Wed, 04 Mar 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Too much grey, rainy weather can make one feel blue. Or, it can bring you into a cozy place.

This is the time of year when we get a ton of rain. It makes me laugh to say that because, really...West Virginia gets TONS of rain. Period. I lived in the semi-arid climate of Colorado for forty years. I was dried up like a prune...constantly dehydrated. Then I moved back to my beloved home state and actually felt my skin soaking up the moisture.

We have a boat load of moisture here, that’s for sure. And it comes in bands. If you look at the radar on the majority of days, you will see long finger-like bands of clouds sweeping across the Ohio River and deflect on a Northeasterly course. We waited out one such storm band yesterday and thought we might be able to get a walk in before the next band came through. But the sky darkened quickly and we soon recognized the heavy dense clouds of impending rain. We changed our course.

Not that I really wanted to drive to town, we decided it was our best option to keep from getting wet. We drove to the mall and got in nearly two miles for a respectable first time out for Mr. FixIt. Errands, groceries, and dinner on a Christmas gift card rounded out our day. My sweetie was sure tired when we got home but he did great!

On our way home, we experienced out first lightning of the season. I love thunder and lightning. And, I am so grateful we don’t have the kind of storms Nashville was hit with yesterday. I have friends who live there and I half held my breath till they started checking in. Please lift up prayers for all those effected by the tornado. There are buildings there that hadn’t even been fixed since the last tornado.

We watched a little TV. A little election. A little American Idol. A little reading.

It was another extraordinarily ordinary day here on The Ponderosa.

❤️

“Elijah was a human being, even as we are. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years.”
James 5:17 NIV

The Sky is Falling, The Sky is Falling

Sun, 01 Mar 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Do any of you remember being quarantined as a child?

***sigh***

Fear mongering is rampant in this day and age. Good night nurse...you can’t turn on the TV without seeing horrifying stories about everything. Every. Darned. Thing. It’s really beginning to get to me. My blood pressure is high enough from the stress of Mr. FixIt’s episode last week. I don’t need to see the horrors...real and imagined...being played out on every channel with a signal.

I remember the first time I had an inkling we as a society were being manipulated by the media. I remember the first time I realized the internet was a double-edged sword. I’m not pointing fingers because I know there are bad actors on both sides of the aisle. We are responsible for researching and verifying as best we can and make our own decisions based on what we learn.

The coronavirus is the current topic of interest for this news cycle. In time, it will be something else. A story is “ridden” till people are bored with it then a new story is the “it” thing. It astounds me how quickly things spiral out of hand.

I’ve survived polio till the vaccine finally came out.

I’ve had measles, mumps, chickenpox, and scarletina and survived.

Do any of you remember being quarantined as a child? I was in 1st Grade when I got scarletina. Our home was quarantined...with the note on the door and everything. The doctor came to my house to check on me a couple of times. I remember i was very sick and he gave me a shot. I didn’t go to school for a couple of weeks.

I’ve survived Hong Kong flu, Asian Flu, SARS, H1N1, the Cuban Missile Crisis, Y2K, Haley’s Comet, the end of the Mayan Calendar, AIDS, and the various predicted dates of the Apocalypse that have come and gone.

The nonsense that is going around astonishes me. Some people aren’t eating Chinese food for fear of contracting coronavirus. Some people are boycotting Corona beer because they think that’s where the virus is coming from. OY.

I texted Hubby #2 the other day. He’s an internist with 34 years of practice under his belt. I asked him what his take was on the coronavirus. He said usual precautions. And stop watching the news.

The usual precautions are:

Wash your hands...well and often.

Avoid crowds in closed in areas for a while.

Don’t touch your face, nose, mouth or eyes.

Don’t share food utensils or drinks with others.

If you have symptoms, don’t go to work or school. Wear a mask. (Research is finding walking around town with a trendy little face mask isn’t really adding much protection to keep you from getting the flu but if you HAVE it, it can keep from spreading it to others.)

Wipe down counters and common areas with sanitizing wipes or use a water/bleach solution.

Use hand sanitizer if you don’t have access to soap and water.

And...wash your hands, wash your hands, wash your hands!

This isn’t a political issue, but it’s being made into one. EVERYTHING is being made into a political issue this time around. I’m not going to jump on anyone’s bandwagon. I just want the truth. And it’s getting harder and harder to find. It drives me batso!

Anyway...try not to get overwhelmed by all the hype and use your common sense about any viral outbreak.

Oh, and did I say to wash your hands???

❤️

“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”
Proverbs 17:22 NIV

Comfort vs. Bravery

Fri, 28 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

We were called to be BRAVE!

It’s so easy to slip into the “comfort zone”. Once you’re there, you definitely want to stay. There have been so many times I’ve been yanked out of my comfort zone...kicking and screaming. And every single time, I’ve grown bigger and better because of it.

When I was uncomfortably ensconced in a “Behavioral Unit” after the overdose, I went from reading Harry Potter to my daughter at night to harsh lights, loud voices, scary people, and a strictly supervised environment. I remember telling someone I felt like a slug on a hot griddle. The cells in my brain felt like they were sizzling. I was most definitely uncomfortable, but I discovered an inner warrior I had never really known.

When Mr. Virgo and I were driving to pick out a camper for our retirement, we basked in the comfort of our loving relationship...holding hands, sharing stories, making plans. When he suffered a massive heart attack and died within three hours, my world crashed and comfort became a foreign concept I wasn’t sure I would ever return to. People said... “You’re so brave!” My response was, “It’s amazing what you can do when you have no other choice.” I became more empathetic and compassionate and confident with time. And infinitely braver.

Then, Mr. FixIt uttered those words.

“There’s something happening here I have to tell you about. I’m feeling numb and tingly on one side.”

Instant discomfort. Fear. Panic. Explosive heart rate. Waves of nausea.

I’d been there before. While not necessarily a frequently visited territory, it WAS in my memory banks and I’d been there before. I knew there was a file card placed somewhere that said, “What to do in an emergency.” I just had to stop and take a deep breath and pull it out.

“Be BRAVE!”

Yep, that’s what that card said alright. Think. Think. Think. How do you DO that?

Breathe
Check your OWN pulse first. (In other words, calm down.)
Evaluate the situation.
Take appropriate action.

In my case, after all four steps were successfully accomplished, I moved on to my next step.

5) Excuse yourself from the room and throw up.

Ok, four out of five is pretty good, I think. After all, you can throw up and still be brave. In the past, I would have chastised myself for being a weenie. I would have thought of myself as being inadequate...incapable of controlling myself...weak. Absolutely NOT true.

I came out of this with a new appreciation for my body and my mind. I was scared. It’s ok to be scared. I couldn’t control what was happening. It’s ok to be out of control because, in all actuality...I’ve never been IN control of anything outside of myself. And sometimes that doesn’t work like I’d like it to. I was challenged. We all have challenges.

Here’s what I wasn’t...

I wasn’t defeated. I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t incapable. And, I wasn’t alone.

I was brave.

It’s the same thing I told people after Mr. Virgo passed away. It’s amazing what you can do when you have no other choice. I do, however, have a spike in my blood pressure right now and I’m monitoring that. I haven’t had high blood pressure since Hubby #2 and I split up. Stress does crazy things to your body.

Mr. FixIt continues to improve and feel stronger every day. The numbness has reduced to only his left hand. We are hoping it continues to subside. If that’s the worst thing that came of this, we are truly blessed. He’s sleeping well, eating right, getting the rest he needs, and adjusting to his new circumstances.

This is my “Feel Good Friday” post...because, it’s been a week since his stroke, and we’re feeling pretty darned good right now.

❤️

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.””
Deuteronomy 31:6 NIV

Grief Ghosting: 7 Things That Might Help You Feel Better

Thu, 27 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Being “ghosted” during grief only adds to the pain and loneliness.

Ghosting. It’s really more of a millennial term used when a less than mature individual chooses to end a relationship by simply ceasing all contact with the person they were dating. SO 8th grade. Unfortunately, it also adequately describes what happens when widow(er)s find the people they thought they could count on suddenly nowhere to be found. It’s a thing. It happened to me and I’m sure, grieving or not, it’s happened to you at some point.

The first time I experienced grief ghosting was when I was going through the divorce from Hubby #2. Someone I thought was my absolute bedrock forever and ever BFF just...disappeared. I will have to give her credit for eventually telling me she “chose to surround herself with healthy people so she could no longer be my best friend” so I guess she didn’t totally ghost me. But it was pretty devastating.

In the interest of owning my own “stuff”, I wasn’t being the best of friends to her either. I was seeking information about my estranged husband and calling her about a gazillion times a day after essentially “ghosting” HER as a result of a long term depression. I just kind of popped back in when I came out of it. Like my husband...she had moved on.

I’ve heard from so many people who have been grief ghosted. Whether it’s their siblings or their friends or even their own kids, being “abandoned” in our time of need is pretty darned brutal. It is so easy to get caught up in hurt feelings and angry retribution in times like that. Here are some ways I helped myself get through the secondary grief that came when I was ghosted.

Prayer/Meditation - Learning to seek God for comfort instead of looking for it from other people was a huge awakening for me. Prayer was meditative and allowed me the space to calm down and not be quite so reactionary.
Reading - One of the single most useful books I read in that time after my breakup with Hubby #2 was The Four Agreements by don Miguel Ruiz. Agreement #2 is “Don’t take anything personally.” Nothing anyone does is because of you. It has everything to do with the other person...who they are, where they are in their journey.
Therapy - There’s no shame in talking with a trained professional to gain some perspective on whatever issues you may be facing, no matter how old or “mature” you are. Talk Therapy and EMDR helped me immensely with many aspects and stages of my grief.
Exercise - Getting out and walking every day took my mind off the fact I felt so abandoned, on top of the abandonment of the loss itself. It allowed me to focus on my breathing and feel my body as I moved it. The exercise itself lifted my mood by releasing “feel good hormones” which helped immensely.
Joining In - Joining a walking group (I use 99Walks.fit now for a sense of belonging to a team). Taking a class. Volunteering. Signing up for a Bible Study. Call the local hospital and see if they need volunteer “baby snugglers” or the local animal shelter to see if they need dog walkers. Engaging is far superior than isolating and eating tubs of Ben & Jerry’s.
Forgiving - This is the best thing you could ever do for yourself when you’ve been ghosted. Truly offering forgiveness from your heart helps free you from the extra burden of feeling abandoned by friends or relatives.
Take Names - No, not an accounting of the wrongs being done to you. I’m talking about writing down the names of those people who say “call me”. (If any of them are ghosting you, take their name off the list.) I made sure I rotated through the list so I wasn’t leaning too heavy on any one person and “wearing out my welcome”.

Making new friends isn’t easy, but there are so many ways to do so...even if you can’t get out of the house. Facebook can be a thorn in my side, but there’s a group for everything there. And I’ve found a ton of support on Twitter in a relatively short amount of time. Grief Ghosting isn’t a pleasant experience to be sure. But, fortunately, there are things that can help you work your way through it.

❤️

“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

Uncharted Territory

Tue, 25 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

I often awaken to his hand on my shoulder. I covet this moment.

There is nothing like a health scare to shake you up....wake you up. After losing Mr. Virgo the way I did, my fear level Friday night isn’t surprising. But, now we’re here...we’re home...we’re processing. We’re walking on eggshells a little bit...feeling our way out on the ice to make sure it’s solid beneath us.

I’m trying not to be hyper-vigilant. Mr. FixIt is trying not to worry me. We both slept the deep sleep of exhaustion and relief on Sunday night. We had a very laid back day yesterday. We didn’t even get out of our jammies. We ate and slept and watched movies. We smiled and kissed and hugged a lot...because we can.

We’ll keep a low profile for another day or so. But then, it’s back in the saddle...albeit at a bit more slower pace. Look...we both have health issues. We aren’t 37 anymore. Waking up to that...getting our heads out of the sand...is important. It reminds us to be present in each moment. We don’t have the time to waste anymore.

Yes, we’re a little sad. And, we’re more than a little scared. But...we can’t walk on eggshells forever. We can’t stop living. We just have to be watchful and live our best lives. So, we made follow up appointments. And we looked at vacation rentals to extend our April beach trip by an extra week. Leaving him and going off on solo adventures might take me a while to get comfortable with. We’ll just have to see.

Like I said...it’s uncharted territory. Deeper conversations will come as to how we will navigate it. But for now, we are just resting easy and feeling ever so grateful that this wasn’t any worse. Mr. FixIt felt much better yesterday. Thank you all so much for your kind words of love and support and, of course, for your many heartfelt prayers. We appreciate them so much!

❤️

“This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
Psalms 118:24 ESV

No Luxury of Losing It

Sun, 23 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

My strength comes from Heaven...the heavenly hosts who are always and forever available to me.

First, let me thank you for your prayers Friday night. This one was for us. My sweet Mr. FixIt had a stroke Friday night. It was mild, but concerning enough that he is in the hospital for a couple of nights for tests. My heart was pounding out of my chest and wave after wave of hot flushes rushed over me. Visions of the final trip to the ER with Mr. Virgo had me in a near panic.

I drove, maybe a little fast...but we got to the hospital in record time. It wasn’t the kind of medical emergency you need an ambulance for. He just had some numbness and tingling. It was more “let’s just go in and get this checked out to make sure everything is ok.” When they descended on Mr. FixIt and started all the medical stuff, I excused myself to the ladies room and threw up.

I didn’t have the luxury of losing it. My sweetheart knows these things scare the dickens out of me and he kept asking me if I was ok. I was honest.

“No, not at the moment. But I’m going to be.” I squeezed his hand and offered a brave smile.

I sent out the prayer request. (Thank you SO much for all your prayers!) I wrapped my arms around my sweet husband and prayed for us both. And I began to feel that sense of peace beyond all understanding.

God didn’t mean for us to do the heavy lifting. He wants us to turn all things over to Him. When I sat there, I thought of all the people I know who have been through so many hard things lately. People I know and love. I took strength from their courageous fights. I felt a Legion of Angels around us from all the prayers.

We waited, and waited, and waited for a room. Which almost always means we were waiting for the staff in the ER to find a moment between patients to get us upstairs. At one point, I thought if I could just get a blanket for him and turn off the lights, at least he would be able to get some sleep while we waited.

I went out to the desk and the tech said she was just coming to get us and take us to our room. Pretty soon, she came in and apologized. She said she had to go prepare a patient. Those of us who have worked in an ER know what that means. A patient had died and the family needed to come in to see their loved one. She was going to go make them presentable.

I didn’t say anything to Mr. FixIt as she left. I just held his hand a little tighter as my mind wandered to the day I was led in to see Mr. Virgo after they had made him “presentable” for me. I closed my eyes and said a prayer for the family who were about to have that horrible experience. I prayed that the Angels would come and wrap their wings around them and comfort them in their time of great heartbreak.

I patted Mr. FixIt’s hand and said, “It’s ok, babe. Someone else needs her more than we do right now. We’re ok.”

Thank you, God. This could have been so much worse.

❤️

“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

Avoiding the Medical Treadmill

Sat, 22 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

There are times when meds are medically necessary. Having a history of problems with pain meds makes me hyper vigilant to stay away from them.

There was a time when I found myself stuck on the medical treadmill. Get treated for something. Get side effects. Get treated for the side effects. Get more side effects. Get more treatment. It was a vicious cycle and I honestly believe if I hadn’t suffered the overdose, that treadmill would have been the death of me.

It was all too easy to get on that track. I was married to a prominent doctor. All doctors go the extra mile for another doctor’s family. The specialists get their referrals from internists and family practitioners. Of course they're going to make sure those people are treated to the very best there is to offer. That’s the way it’s always been.

The problem comes when someone is smart enough to work the system. Someone with a predilection to addiction. Someone who knew very well how to hide it after watching her family of origin do the same thing. That someone, of course, was me. If I was asked if I needed pain meds, I said yes.

The overdose was the end of that ride. I feel like God only gives us so many tickets for drinks. Far fewer for opioids. Let’s just say, I used my portion up way too fast and I was left trying to figure out how to live without them...how to build a new life after the old one collapsed around me. It took a lot of time and an incredible amount of work and personal growth to get through to the other side of that.

Since losing Mr. Virgo, I developed some health issues. Grief doesn’t just affect the emotions. It can have a deleterious effect on your body. The first thing that struck me was PTSD. The next was Palmar-Plantar Psoriasis. That was so debilitating. I tried everything for three years and finally struck pay dirt when I cut out sugar and gluten, started exercising and taking multivitamins, and using CBD ointment on my hands and feet.

Since being with Mr. FixIt, I’ve slowly lost my mojo in the taking care of myself department. The old adage “fat and happy” is pretty spot on. It was so much more fun to cook and bake and eat and snuggle than it was to get my butt outside and walk. You remember when I was on my health kick and lost a ton of weight. I was climbing those stairs downtown five to ten times, three to five times per week. I was really getting fit.

“Fat and happy” is taking its toll on me. I’m now pre-diabetic. I have a hiatal hernia and acid reflux and diverticulosis and high cholesterol. Those are the invisible things. I’ve gained weight. And along with that weight gain has come a drastic increase of my joint and muscle pain. From my feet to my lower back, I’ve had pain so bad there have been days Mr. FixIt has actually had to help me up out of a recliner. And I’m only sixty-six!

I can’t have this. I have this big family to love on and do things with. I have my writing and my travel. My campers. I’m staring at the other end of the stick now...I need to get crackin’ if I want to live my best life. I owe this to myself. And I owe it to Mr. FixIt and my family.

So, as of last Friday, I’m back on the bandwagon. I haven’t had any sugar or gluten, bread, pasta or potatoes. In just two days, the pain was so drastically reduced, I have been able to get back on my walking regimen. Girl Camper has just partnered with 99Walks, a subscription walking club. You can listen to motivational talks while you walk. You can join virtual teams. And when you meet your walking goals for the month, you get a stainless steel bracelet with that months motivational message on it. So far, I’ve walked ten miles this week.

My only other choice would have been to succumb to the pain, go see my doctor, and get back on the medical treadmill again. I’m not about to do that. Not when I know full well how I got this way and what to do about it. That same intelligence that finagled drugs from my ex-husband’s colleagues has been turned from evil to good. Honoring my body. Taking care of the temple where the Holy Spirit dwells. It’s time to take charge. Because the alternative is pretty darned grim.

❤️

““Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap. For it will come on all those who live on the face of the whole earth. Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man.””
Luke 21:34-36 NIV

The Running of the Bags

Thu, 20 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

I’ve shared this photo before...it shows I’ve always been a “creative organizer”.

You’ve heard of “The Running of the Bulls?” Well, every year about this time, I participate in the running of the bags. I have got to be the world’s most disorganized person. Every year...every single year...I swear that THIS year will be different. And every year, I write this same post.

I’m pretty good for a few months. I keep track of things, I file papers where they belong, I download transactions and balance my checkbook. Then somewhere around June, life starts getting busy and things start going to heck in a hand basket. That’s when the tote bags come out of the closet.

One by one, the tote bags fill up with important papers, package inserts, instruction manuals, greeting cards, phone charging cords, receipts...you know, the flotsam and jetsam of life. This was especially a problem this past year because I was gone a full four months and Mr. FixIt was left the unenviable job of taking care of everything around here on his own. It was a lot to ask, and he did a great job.

I was home alone yesterday while Mr. FixIt helped our grandson and his family move. I took advantage of the time to dig into the sacks of detritus one the hunt for my new debit card. It will expire at the end of the month so I had to find it ASAP. I spread piles of papers all over the living room...sorting and tossing and organizing. The card wasn’t in any of the bags.

I sat back and asked God to refresh my memory. I suddenly had a flash...I went back to our bedroom and lifted a sweater that was folded up and laying on the safe. And there it was...a small stack of mail I had moved off the bed when I was cleaning in there last month. I had totally forgotten it was there.

As I wound up my work for the day, I decided I’ve been going at this all wrong. I’ve been beating myself up, year after year, for being so disorganized. Then I realized...I was perfectly organized. I had every paper I needed all in one place. I had the opportunity to go through it and place it all in neat piles that can now be filed away. And now, everything is fresh in my mind for doing taxes. I’ll count that as a win!

See...it’s all a matter of how you look at things. If I look at it with a self-denigrating attitude, then I feel bad about myself. I feel inadequate and disorganized and lazy. But, if I look at it as keeping all the important things in one place so that when it’s time to do the important stuff with them, I’m on top of it. That makes me feel accomplished and capable and resourceful.

We aren’t all gifted with a staff like Martha Stewart. We aren’t all capable of keeping color coded files all neat and tidy, day in and day out. Some of us are distracted by the sparklies. That’s what makes us interesting, right? I’ll keep working to become better at this because organization is actually biblical. I’ll also be a little nicer to myself when I don’t measure up to my own expectations.

❤️

“But everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.”
1 Corinthians 14:40 NIV

Meet Me in the Middle

Sun, 16 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Meet me in the middle...privately...not on social media. Let us find our sameness.

I wrote yesterday about life being simpler when we didn’t know what we didn’t know. As I pondered that message, I contemplated how the same sentiment applies to politics. Perhaps the whole nature of the political experience has changed because I’m older and more aware. I know the social fabric of our nation seems to be unraveling at the seams, even though there is still goodness and kindness in the world.

I avoid political discussions on Facebook like the plague. Then I saw something that crushed me. It was a photo of a friend of mine doing something that totally shocked me. No need to go into further details. I was hurt and confused and disappointed. But, instead of instantly lashing out as seems to be the modus operandi anymore, I went into quiet contemplation and talked with God about it.

I’ve been praying a lot about our country and those we elect to represent us. And I’ve been asking God to help us all to meet in the middle...to help me open dialog wherever I can...to separate the politics from the person and see them as fellow citizens and not the enemy. After an hour or so to absorb what I saw, I went back and thanked her for opening the door to polite civil discourse. That is what our country was designed to do.

My country grandma taught me my vote is my own. No one needs to know who you vote for. You owe no one an explanation. Later, my friend and I had a chat privately. We assured each other our love for one another has not changed because of our differing political beliefs. That’s the way it should be. Enough of this “us vs. them” stuff.

Be a GOOD HUMAN first. Then be a Republican or a Democrat or whatever is your leaning. Show some respect. Be honest. Have morals. Value integrity. Show empathy. As I contemplated this, I was led to the following scripture:

“Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I. “If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.”
Isaiah 58:9-12 NIV

I shared this with my friend. She will see it through her lens. I will see it through mine. That is the nature of the Bible...it is the living word and speaks to us where we stand. But we met in the middle and held each other in kind regard. There are forces at work on every side trying to divide this country. I am reminded of the phrase... “United we stand, divided we fall.” They weren’t kidding.

As I was writing this, a friend shared a video. A thousand strangers came together at midnight...Christians, Jews, and Muslims. It took them one hour to learn “One Love” by Bob Marley and it’s a beautiful thing to hear. I know we can’t solve the world’s problems sitting around singing songs.

Or can we?

Watch the video here.

❤️

“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

Taking a Stand Against Bullying

Sun, 09 Feb 2020 02:30:00 -0600

Take a stand against bullying of any kind.

Burger King recently released an anti-bullying video and it really hit home for me. It shows a young boy getting picked on in the fast food establishment and very few adults came to his defense. However, when the kitchen staff “bullied” their burgers, there were plenty of people standing up and demanding an un-assaulted sandwich. The dichotomy was remarkable.

I think it would be a rare thing to find someone who has never been a victim of bullying. There is a certain amount of teasing and hazing that goes on that is brushed off as kids figuring it out. And, it’s far too common that childhood teasing becomes a malignancy that spreads and causes great harm. From tender children to endangered seniors, no one seems to be immune from it.

It needs to stop.

My earliest memories of bullying came when one of my mom’s cousins babysat my brother and me. I was incessantly tormented by her teenagers and often was bruised...internally as well as visibly. I found it impossible to stand up for myself as I was so small and they were so big. The bullying I experienced at their hands certainly made me more empathetic to others.

In the summer of my twelfth year, Mom let my brother and me stay home by ourselves while she worked. We were under the watchful eye of neighbors, as we all were back in the early ‘60s with stay-at-home moms in every other house. There was a boy in the home above us who heckled my differently-abled brother on occasion, but never within my hearing. One afternoon, I was carrying laundry out to hang on the line when I heard him teasing my Bubby. Fire went through me and I was out that door like a shot.

I snuck around behind the boy and just as he opened his mouth to call out nasty words about my sweet handicapped brother, I came up behind him and gave him a swift kick in the seat of his pants. He shot out between the hedges and rolled headlong down the bank to the sidewalk below. Bruised and bleeding, he got up and looked around for his attacker. I stood there, all of 70 pounds, hands on my hips and fire in my eyes, glaring down at him...daring him to say anything.

He called out, “I’m telling my mom!”

I said, “You go right ahead! And if you ever do anything like that again to anyone...ESPECIALLY my brother...you’ll get it twice as hard from me! Do you hear me???”

He ran off, and no one ever bothered my brother again. I wish I could have stood up for myself so well but for some reason, I never could.

As an adult, I am always watching for signs of bullying. My older daughter had her mama’s chutzpah and did well at taking up for herself. I don’t recall ever having to step in for her much. But Daughter #2 was a target and I often had to go to the office or talk to a parent when things went too far.

Taking a stand in public with strangers takes a different kind of bravery. In this day and age, you don’t know who’s carrying a weapon or who might become violent if confronted. Still, I stand up to bullies. Mr. FixIt will tell you. I intervene whenever I can.

I’m happy to see more companies stepping up and addressing bullying because in the current state of our country, there seems to be much more bravado in that regard.

Everything boils down to living like Jesus. We cannot tolerate bullying and live like Jesus. I won’t tolerate a bully...I don’t care who it is.

❤️

“For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.”
2 Timothy 1:7 NIV

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

“When I’m Gone”...an Ode to a Decade

Mon, 30 Dec 2019 02:30:00 -0600

“When I’m Gone”...an Ode to a Decade:

I remember the way I felt when the calendar turned from 2013 to 2014. Somehow, in my grief addled mind, I thought it would make things better. It would create distance between Mr. Virgo’s death and....the present. I thought maybe there would be magical power in being able to say “He died LAST year”...as if that space and time would somehow fix this dreadful suffering I was mired in.

But it didn’t.

The New Year dawned and the same horrible ache I felt in my heart, the same sense of fear and uncertainty I felt, was still there like a burning coal I could not set down. I think that realization made it even worse because I knew in my heart the only way “out” was “through”. And I was so weary of the pain.

This is the seventh New Year. I thank God in every way that He carried me through the hell that was acute grief. I thank Him for leading me at every turn and held my forehead all those sleepless nights when all I could do was cry and throw up. I thank Him for bringing me to an excellent grief counselor who listened and knew how to help me with the PTSD brought about by watching the valiant efforts to save Mr. Virgo’s life.

I thank Him for nudging me to pour my heart out on these pages and for giving me the words to do so. I thank Him for opening doors and giving me the courage to walk through them. I thank Him for blessing me with supportive and loving children and family who have stood by me every step of the way...even when I’ve been a pain in the caboose and they roll their eyes at some of my decisions.

And, I thank Him for bringing Mr. FixIt into my life, along with a great big bonus family to add to my brood. I am so blessed to have this life and will never take it for granted.

When I felt the winds of change blowing me in a new direction in my writing, a thought was formulating in the back of my mind that I couldn’t quite express. I was feeling a certain melancholy and couldn’t figure out why. What was the significance of this New Year over any other? Then, I saw this video and realized...I entered this decade with Mr. Virgo by my side...never dreaming he would be gone in such a short time.

It’s a big deal to be turning the page on not just a New Year, but on a new decade. The last seven-ish years have been spent healing and growing and learning how to live without him. Then learning how to open my heart wide enough to accept MORE love instead of closing it off for good.

I’m entering new territory here...a decade Mr. Virgo will never experience. When this video popped up on my feed, I watched it and realized, it was released just before he died. It was an anthem I cried over. The lyrics slayed me and brought me much needed emotional release. As I rewatched it before I wrote this, the lyrics took on new meaning for me. In addition to the reminder of my past losses, there is another loss to contend with.

Ever since I shared with you my desire to change my writing schedule here on my blog, you have shared with me what this space has meant to you along the way. I cannot close this door completely and just stop altogether. Because I still need this space as much as some of you have indicated you do. I’ve come to know and love you. I’ve cried with you, and prayed with you, and celebrated with you. I don’t know if I can ever express what joy you have brought me. What healing and comfort you shared that eased my broken heart.

When I thank God for all He has done for me in this last decade, I thank Him so much for YOU. For giving me this space where we could help each other heal. Lift each other up. To laugh and cry and live and learn with each other.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

For being here and helping me through the worst of times.

And here we are...about to head into a new decade! What shall we learn? Where shall we go? What will God reveal to us in this mystical little place called Marshmallow Ranch?

“When I’m Gone” by Joey and Rory Feek

https://fbwat.ch/1V3CvhygTPjtgWSw

❤️

“ ‘Nevertheless, I will bring health and healing to it; I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security.”

Jeremiah 33:6 NIV

Beware of the Scam

Sat, 28 Dec 2019 02:30:00 -0600

“When life gets challenging, have some coffee and breathe.”

Mr. FixIt and I were watching a movie Christmas night when I received a notification from PayPal on my phone. My domain fee for my website was due. I thought back over the time frame when I built the website and it was over the Christmas holiday. When I opened the invoice, it had the GoDaddy logo and the date, amount due, and my domain name. All official looking. I must admit, I was distracted by the movie. And, the thought that it was odd coming in on Christmas Day had barely registered when I determined it was legit and hit “pay”.

Then the receipt came and it was to a Russian name!

Ugh...it only took one second to realize I had just been scammed. I could have spit nails. I know better. If I would have just thought it through and asked myself questions like, “Why would they be requesting money through PayPal?” Ahhhh, but that’s water under the bridge now, isn’t it?

I immediately went on GoDaddy’s website and found their chat feature so I could speak to a representative. He walked me though the whole thing and confirmed my suspicions...the invoice did NOT come from them. I contacted PayPal and filed a fraud report. I got on my bank’s website and sent an urgent message to the fraud department. But it was Christmas Day, after all. Not much I could do until the bank opened the next day.

As soon as they opened, I was on the phone with them. They emailed a form I needed to sign because it came from the account directly and not through a card. If it had, they would have sent me a new card. Since it did not, I had to print the form, sign it, take a photo of it and sent it back to the bank. We do not have a working printer at the house, so I drove to town to the library.

Once that was finished, I did my grocery shopping and came back home. I received a message from PayPal that said they couldn’t find any fraud because I had ok’d the payment myself. I called them and finally got a live human being and they reopened their inquiry. In the meantime, they emailed the Russian to hear his side of the story. Yeah...like THAT’S going to get them anywhere! Anyway, I’ve banked at the same bank since 1986 and they jump through hoops to make sure you’re well taken care of. Either way, I’ll get my $51 back. I’m just really lucky it wasn’t any worse.

If you find yourself in just such a mess, the first thing you need to do is change your password and security questions on whatever site they got in through. That stopped them in their tracks. It’s just really frustrating, but at least I didn’t have to close my checking account and start a new one, or change cards. Be careful out there...especially at this time of year!

❤️

“Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands, that they may have something to share with those in need.”

Ephesians 4:28 NIV

Christmas & The Camper - Girl Camper Moments

Tue, 24 Dec 2019 02:30:00 -0600

"Santa and Me"

Here is a link to Girl Camper Moments...the branded series I write for the Girl Camper website. I share this story every year on Christmas Eve...as a reminder to me that, even though that first Christmas was so incredibly difficult, time passes and we accommodate ourselves to grief.

We learn where the edges of that jagged hole are and how to avoid falling in "ass over teakettle". It took a lot of tears and prayers, and God carried me when I was too tired to walk. My prayer is always that you find hope through my stories.

In this iteration of the tale, I elaborate on what I did after I had my "Santa experience". I know not all of you are camping enthusiasts, but I'm sure you all have a safe place where you feel comforted and can let down your guard. For me, that has always been my camper...my little sanctuary on wheels.

I hope you read and share the retelling of my first Christmas without Mr. Virgo. I hope it helps those whose hearts are broken during what was a joyous occasion before the loss.

Girl Camper Moments: Christmas & The Camper

Crazy Weather in West Virginia

Tue, 17 Dec 2019 02:30:00 -0600

“What started out as snow ended up as boatloads of rain.”

We woke up yesterday to a coating of white. It’s only the second time this year we’ve even had a hint of snow and it really didn’t amount to much. As a matter of fact, by the time 8:00 rolled around, it was pushing 40℉ and starting to rain. Then it rained...and rained...and RAINED! An inch had fallen by early evening and we were expecting another inch overnight.

When we have days and days of slow drizzly rains, it doesn’t seem like much of a problem until it pours. Then there’s no place for the water to go and it just sits in pools on the ground and runs off into the nearby creeks and rivers causing what is called areal flooding. Low lying areas are particularly prone to this kind of flooding. By 4:00 there had already been a couple of water rescues. People don’t seem to realize how deadly driving into standing water can be.

We were happy to be at home yesterday and not have to be out and about in that mess. I took advantage of the time and started doing some serious cleanup of my email inbox. I have outlook set up to receive email from several addresses and it’s been a few years since I made any serious attempt to clean it out. I have a habit of scrolling through emails on my phone and not deleting them as I go. So, I sat at the desk in our office for eight hours straight...deleting emails.

36,000 of them!

And that’s not all...there’s another 30,000 to go!

It’s much like cleaning out my mom’s house after she died. It would have been much faster to order a dumpster and just haul everything out at once and be done with it. But, there was no rhyme or reason to that house. There were precious family photos mixed in with junk mail in black plastic garbage bags. Her wedding band was in the basement in a box of jars and her engagement ring was in a shoebox filled with sewing notions and ballpoint pens that didn’t work.

I had to sort through everything bit by bit. Which is kind of what I’m doing with the inbox. Outlook has a great tool where you can “sweep” the inbox. Let’s say you regularly get emails from Sam’s Club. There’s nothing in those emails you really need after you’ve seen them so at the touch of a button, you can “sweep” all the emails from one address out into the trash. That makes it a lit quicker.

I also unsubscribed from at least a hundred sources which will cut down on the amount of email that comes in daily. This had just gotten out of hand and short of deleting the whole thing, I will devote some time to getting things under control. I’ll finish the inbox, then comes the FB friends list, then the great annual sorting of papers to start preparing for tax season.

AFTER Christmas.

I hope you all are safe in all this crazy weather!

❤️

“But everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.”

1 Corinthians 14:40 NIV

Definition of a WV Holler

Fri, 13 Dec 2019 02:30:29 -0600

Grandma’s farm is at the mouth of a holler. No one lives back up the holler anymore.

It’s “Feel Good Friday” and I want to share something with you. We often talk about the hills of WV where my roots run deep. We talk about Grandma’s farm and the home of my heart. I tell you stories and memories that warm my soul and hopefully yours, as well. If you grew up like I did…you’ll be able to relate. And if you didn’t, you’ll be able to see how the luckiest of us were raised up.

I belong to several Appalachian pages on Facebook. I love the pictures and the stories as they stir up memories as old as the hills. When I read the writing of one of these hill folk and it particularly moves me, I simply must share. This piece was written about the hollers of Eastern Kentucky, but that’s not all that far from here and aptly describes our neck of the woods in WV, too. I hope you enjoy!

The Definition of an Eastern Kentucky Holler…..

Someone from outside my area recently asked me about our Eastern Kentucky hollers, and I have been thinking of how to best describe them to those not familiar with them. The simple answer is that a holler is a lane that follows a narrow valley between the hills. But if you’re from the hills of Eastern Kentucky, then you know there’s a lot more to a holler than that.

Most hollers are just dirt roads with a little gravel spread on them every now and then. They were never intended to carry heavy traffic. A holler is generally very sparsely populated because that’s the way we like it. We guard our privacy and we’re pretty wary of strangers. Often there’s not another house in sight of your house.

But we still know our neighbors. And when one needs help, then you help. If someone is sick in the holler, then you pitch in to help until they get back on their feet. If someone has a problem, then you listen. When someone claims you as a friend, then you’re loyal. And if you make a promise, then you’d better make good on it.

There aren’t any mansions In a holler. In fact, most houses in a holler are modest ones. And almost everyone has a barn, and a couple of other outbuildings. Some have chickens and cows and goats and a couple of horses. And they all have at least one dog that runs to the road and barks at every car that passes by.

Most people in a holler have a front porch. And they actually sit on it. They shell peas and string green beans and peel apples on the porch. And people stop by and sit on the porch with you. They laugh and talk and cuss a little bit about crooked politicians. And in the dusky evenings, they come with fiddles and flat top guitars and five-string banjos. And, good Lord in heaven…..what music they make! Sometimes the music drifts up and down the holler and it’s so pretty it just makes you want to cry! But instead of crying, you find yourself humming along to the lonesome strains of the Orange Blossom Special.

A lot of the houses in a holler have been occupied by several generations of the same family over the years. There is comfort in living in the house where your grandpa was born, or playing in the creek where your daddy used to swim. Something stirs down deep inside of you when you know you’re walking in the steps of your forefathers. And you never really feel alone as long as you know that your people lie buried on top of the hill that holds you so closely. Never underestimate the way that the hills cradle you. They will rock you to sleep at night, and awaken you in the morning with a happy heart and a joy in your soul.

If you live in a holler, you get recognition every day. And you’re never invisible. People always wave at you when they see you on your porch or in your yard. And if they don’t see you outside, then they will blow the horn when they drive by your house….just as a way of saying “howdy”. And if a few days pass and they don’t see you, then they’ll stop by to check on you. You can count on it. And you can count on them.

If your house is the first one as you turn up the holler….then you live at the mouth of the holler. If your house is the last one where the holler dead-ends…then you live at the head of the holler. And responsibilities fall to you according to where you live in the holler. For example, if you live at the mouth of the holler and you see a strange car that doesn’t belong to anyone you know and it’s heading up the holler, then you call the people who live above you and let them know that there’s a stranger headed up their way. That’s just common courtesy. If a vacuum cleaner salesman comes to your door, then call and let the others in the holler know so they’ll have time to let the big dogs out of the house before the salesman pulls into their driveway.

If anyone invites you to have a meal at their table…accept their offer quickly. And if it’s a house where an old woman runs the kitchen, get to the table just as fast as you can. And get ready to be amazed! Because if you live to be a hundred years old, you will never have a finer meal than one served up in an Eastern Kentucky holler.

There is a certain etiquette adhered to when you drive up or down the holler. If you meet another car in an extra narrow spot, then one of you has to back up to a wide spot so the other can pass. And when you are finally able to pass each other, you stop and roll the car window down and you talk until another car comes along and you have to move on.

If your neighbor slides out of the road in the winter snow, or if he gets stuck in the mud, then you try to push him out. If you’re unable to push him out, then you get your tractor out of the barn, attach a big chain, and pull him out. Again…it’s just common courtesy.

If someone in the neighborhood dies, you get to their house quickly with huge boxes of food. You make a pot of coffee. And then you make another one. And you stay beside your neighbor for as long as you’re needed. You don’t even have to say a word, you just have to be there.

There are other unwritten rules to holler-living. If a forest fire breaks out, you become a firefighter. And not just to save your own house, but to also save all the other houses in the holler. If the creeks start rising, you don’t leave anyone behind to face the muddy waters alone. And when storms come, and they will, you will find no better friends than the ones who are going through the same challenges that you’re facing.

There’s a lot more to be said about an Eastern Kentucky holler, but if I don’t tell you another thing, you need to know that a holler is more than a narrow isolated lane that runs between the hills. A holler takes you to the place where you have always been loved and where you’ll always be welcome. A holler takes you to the place where you can find comfort and peace and a sense of belonging. It takes you to your roots and to your family and to the truth of who you are. A holler takes you home.

Written by Roberta Stephens

January 4, 2017

In sweet memory of the hollers I have loved

❤️

“‘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

Winding Down the Year

Thu, 12 Dec 2019 02:30:47 -0600

“I’m looking for a little down time…maybe after the holidays.”

The year is quickly fading and before we know it, we will turn the page on…not only another year, but on a decade. There will be stories about the best and worst and we’ll wax poetic for what was, what is, and what might have been. It’s hard to stay in the moment in a moment like this.

In looking back over my last year, I realize a turning point occurred early on. I was happily sitting and knitting a gazillion dishcloths and watching movies with Mr. FixIt the entire month of January. It was divine spending hours with hot mugs of tea and the smooth feel of fiber and needles in my hands. Then…my good friend Janine stepped in and called a halt to the whole thing with these wise words:

“Stop knitting and write your book! You can knit when you’re on your book tour.”

Wow…she’s right, you know. I was enjoying the hygge environment I had created but I was also killing time till spring came and I could get back outside and play. I spent the entire month of February sequestered in the big camper and wrote over 75,000 words. And I haven’t really stopped moving since.

I bought that little camper in March and then the grass started growing and camping season started and the new Girl Camper website was being developed and we traveled….everywhere. And now, the year is all but over and I’m on sensory overload. Not from the holidays, per se. It’s just been a high gear year and I’m really ready for a little down time.

Take yesterday, for example. I hadn’t finished my first cup of coffee when Mr. FixIt announced he needed to go to Lowe’s to get the drywall for the bathroom he’s finishing and I decided to go into town with him. I wanted to pick up a gift card for my brother. I figured we would be back in ninety minutes…tops. Ha! We pulled back in the driveway at 5:30.

There is no such thing as a “quick trip to town” for some reason. Not when you decide to stop for a late breakfast and the usual errands and a stop at the grocery store and the original destination of Lowe’s and then the grandkids need something. We often look at each other and say “What on EARTH did we do when we worked full time???”

The upside of the day? I got to hold my little great grandson for half an hour and get some snuggles, so the day was not a loss.

❤️

““Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.””
Matthew 11:28-30 NIV

Love to the Rescue

Tue, 10 Dec 2019 02:30:55 -0600

“One of my besties! Deneene and her sidekick, Griffen the Grey, came for a visit. She’s good for what ails ya!”

I wrote in yesterday’s post about feeling “in the ditch”. I struggled for a few days with grief waves triggered by a traumatic loss in the family. Then, in swept my dear friend Deneene with lots of love and her trusty sidekick, Griffen the Grey. Griff is a nine month old French Bulldog who wriggled his way into my heart when we visited Deneene and her husband Mark in South Carolina this summer.

I had been greatly anticipating Deneene’s arrival for the last week and when she walk in the door, all the “holding it all in” released with her big bear hug. I had the gas stove in the family room fired up so it was nice and toasty. And I had the TV on with this really great ten hour YouTube fireplace video running in the background. We have a huge TV because the family room is huge. It used to be a two car garage, so if you want to read the fine print at the bottom of the screen, you need a big TV. When Deneene walked in, she said she could see the fire blazing from the road leading past our house. I was glad no one thought the house was on fire and called 911!

We didn’t stay up too late and talk because my friend is a new grandma and had just spent a week at her daughter’s helping out with the new baby. She was pretty tired so we said goodnight early. Deneene is not a real morning person, so when Mr. FixIt and I woke up at 8:30, I told him to be really quiet so as not to wake her. I forgot that puppies get their mommies up really early and she had been waiting for US to get up and keeping Griffen quiet.

When I heard them talking in the family room, I quickly dressed and went into the kitchen to cook breakfast. Scratch biscuits with homemade sausage gravy and eggs. OMGosh! It’s been forever since I fixed that and it was SO good. I made Paula Deen’s Cream Biscuits. They are love in the palm of your hand. Look up the recipe. Super easy! And sausage gravy couldn’t be easier to make than mine. Fry a pound of sausage till browned, sprinkle about a third of a cup of flour over it and stir till combined then slowly pour enough milk over it to loosed it up, adding more milk as it cooks, stopping when you get the right consistency.

As we sat and ooohed and ahhhed over the delicacy before us, we slathered butter and local orange blossom honey over the rest of the biscuits till there were just three left. I tucked them in a bag for Deneene to take with her to nibble on the road. Deneene raved over our hospitality and I told her it was the best B&B this side of the Mississippi…and it’s free!

We said our WV goodbye. She announced she should be leaving. We told another story. She said she really should get going. We hugged and talked about when we would get to see one another again. She gathered up her things. I made sure she didn’t forget her biscuits. We walked to the door. We hugged again and declared it had been too long since the last visit and we shouldn’t wait so long next time. She double checked if she had everything. I asked if she needed a bottle of water for the road. She picked up her bags and we had another long hug at the door. As she walked through, we noticed she had set down the biscuits when she put on her coat so we retrieved them for her. If it hadn’t have been raining, we would have walked her to her truck and the goodbye would have lasted another fifteen to twenty minutes. Thus is the nature of goodbyes in the country. It’s a goodbye full of love!

I called after her, “Don’t forget to text when you get there!” If it was dusk, I would have said, “Watch for deer!” That’s West Virginian for “I love you!”

Deneene honked from the road as she drove by and I waved madly from the front window. And she was gone. My friend whom I helped through her own grief had come and returned the favor. I felt so much better after her visit. I have a big deadline to meet this week so after Deneene left, I packed up and went to the farm where I turned the TV to the same fireplace video. I survived another wave and I’m on to the next thing. Such is the nature of grief. It just gets incorporated into life and you move forward. Thank you for your support yesterday. You have no idea what that means to me. I wish everyone who grieves had cheerleaders like you to support them through their journey.

❤️

“My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.”
John 15:12 NIV

In the Ditch

Mon, 09 Dec 2019 02:30:08 -0600

“You never know what will trigger grief…I’m just grateful it doesn’t come nearly as often as it used to.”

Mr. FixIt called yesterday when he was on his way to our granddaughter’s baby shower. There was a wreck on our road. Someone had gone in the ditch, overcorrected, went across the road and ran into an abandoned house. I have to say, that road worries me. Whenever one of us goes to town without the other, we always text when we get there to alleviate the worry.

One of my dearest friends in the whole world stopped at our house yesterday on her way home to South Carolina and spent the night. I was SO excited to see her. I met Deneene through Marshmallow Ranch a couple of years ago. She lost her husband about a year or so before we met and a mutual friend introduced her to my blog. Since she was local, I invited her out for coffee and it was one of those instant life long friendships forged on common ground.

Before Deneene arrived, I baked an apple galette for a sweet treat. But, I have to say…my stomach has been in knots ever since I went to the viewing last Wednesday. I’ve been “in the ditch”. I’ve been to viewings and funerals since Mr. Virgo died. While none of them are easy, the only ones that really hit me hard are the “snatch deaths”…those sudden, unexpected deaths that snatch loved ones in an instant. It stirs up every bit of angst I thought I had put away long ago.

Where I had been the comforter for Deneene when we first met…last night, she became mine. I poured out how fearful I become when a grief wave comes over me now. Fearful…because I tell myself I should be way past this. How can I tell Mr. FixIt about it? Will he walk away from me because he’s “had enough of this”? No, of course not. For one thing, it very rarely happens anymore. For another…he’s not that kind of guy. I should KNOW all this because this is what I do…I comfort others in their grief. I share stories of my own to let others know they aren’t alone. Yet, I tell myself…I should be over this by now, right?

My sweet friend, so gentle and serene, calmly reminded me of what I told her back when we sat over coffee and shared our hearts for over four hours.

“There IS no timetable for grief…remember? There IS no rule book. YOU told me that.”

Yes…indeed. I did tell her that. I tell you that, too. And, I tell you I’ll always speak to you with an open, honest heart and tell you the truth about this grief journey…even when it is uncomfortable or ugly or scary. Even when I’m happily, madly in love and remarried…I am not immune to the waves of grief that rear up against me on occasion. Of COURSE a loss that close to home stirred memories. Why wouldn’t it?

Was it a mistake to go to the viewing? I don’t know…maybe. However, I am so glad I was there to support those I love, even if it WAS hard. There are going to be hard things in life. I can’t avoid them.

It’s ok to not be ok for a little bit. It won’t last forever. I’m not buying real estate…I’m just passing through. It’s the holidays and they can be rough for anyone. When I urge you to be gentle with yourselves, I don’t always take the same advice. I so appreciate my friend to remind me…it’s ok.

❤️

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
Psalms 147:3 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

A Good Book is a Good Friend

Sat, 07 Dec 2019 02:30:31 -0600

“Books open the mind of the reader and sparks an interest in the world.”

I am so busy writing now, I seldom have time to read. I have a stack of books by the bed. A cabinet full in the family room. My iPad has at least a dozen good books just waiting for me to sit down…yet I seldom do. And when I do have time, I love to knit.

I used to read voraciously, but since Mr. Virgo died, I just can’t seem to concentrate long enough to get into the story. I wish I could. I think I would love to sit by a babbling brook on a warm spring day and while away the hours, getting lost in a captivating storyline. I keep hoping.

I do have such fond memories of reading. My mother taught me to read before I started school. The first grade teacher was so taken with my early reading skills that she sent me to other classes to read to the children. I always had a book, and when I didn’t have one, I read the dictionary or my hand-me-down encyclopedia. Mom bought a set of books as shopping rewards from the grocery store when I was very young and I devoured them.

I have memorable moments with certain books. Love Story. I threw the book across the room and sobbed. To Kill A Mockingbird. I felt an inherent shame for the ill-treatment of others. Of Mice and Men. It broke my heart because I have a differently-able brother. There was Watership Down which got me through seasons of anxiety. There were the horror stories of Stephen King. The dramatic mysteries from the likes of James Patterson and Robin Cooke and so many others.

A very special time in my life was when Daughter #2 and I cuddled in bed every night and read the Harry Potter books. Thinking back on that time is bittersweet. Reading with her was wonderful. But my marriage was falling apart, as was my fragile mind in the midst of it all, and that season of my life was clouded by Prozac and assorted pharmaceuticals.

I have a new generation to read to now. Our oldest great grandchild is two now and is beginning to take an interest in books. The younger is just four months old so it will be a while before I can read to him, but we’ll have lots of picture books. And, another little boy will be gracing our presence in January.

I think I may have to start scheduling a time to read for pleasure. What are your favorite reads these days?

❤️

“He went up to the temple of the Lord with the people of Judah, the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the priests and the prophets—all the people from the least to the greatest. He read in their hearing all the words of the Book of the Covenant, which had been found in the temple of the Lord.”
2 Kings 23:2 NIV

The Last Hour

Thu, 05 Dec 2019 02:30:14 -0600

“Pumpkin Kitty snoozing on her mama.”

We spent the day at home yesterday, watching the hearings, nibbling on Thanksgiving leftovers (namely PIE), and snuggling a healing kitten. She was spayed on Monday and she is doing very well, but she sleeps a lot. I’ve been trying to cuddle her in small doses to acclimate myself to her kitty allergens since she’s in the house for a couple of weeks. I can hold her like this for a while, then I have to hand her off to Mr. FixIt and go wash my face and hands. I have been coughing a little more, and my nose has been a little drippy, but nothing major. We’ll see how this goes. She is so sweet when she sleeps on me and goes all limp and warm.

As the afternoon crept on, it got closer and closer to time to go to the funeral home. OMGosh! I was dreading it more and more with each passing hour. Finally, I told Mr. FixIt to go on without me and if I could, I’d follow along shortly. I needed a little time alone. Finally, I shook myself out of it, got dressed, and drove to town.

This was just a viewing. They are not having a funeral. The family gathered at 4:00 to spend some time with the young man alone. Then the doors were open from 5-8 for the viewing. It was an open casket. We stood in line, we paid our respects to his mother, then went and sat with the family. We visited with people we don’t get to see very often. I was introduced to a few I hadn’t met yet. Then, we sat in quiet contemplation…as one does at such things.

It didn’t take long for my mind to wander back to my own experience at Mr. Virgo’s viewing. My eyes stung as I watched the young man’s mother bravely greet people. A little laugh here…hugs and tears there…lots of deep breaths and sips of water. Boxes of tissues were shared. A chair was brought closer.

I looked at my watch. It was 7:00…the last hour. I remember the last hour as if it were yesterday. That’s when the reality hits home that…this is it. This is the last time you’ll see the face of your loved one this side of Heaven. I saw Mr. Virgo at the funeral home the night before the funeral, and I assumed I would see him again in the morning at the church. When I walked in, his casket was at the back of the church…closed with American flag draped over it. And I freaked out. I grabbed my daughter’s arm and said, “I get to see him again, don’t I???” She quickly went to the funeral director and they opened the casket so I could get that one last goodbye. It was brutal.

I turned to Mr. FixIt and said, “It’s the last hour. They do not need an audience. We need to go, now.” He didn’t question me…we got our coats, said our goodbyes to the kids and family and left. I can’t say it gets any easier to go to a viewing. But my experience gives me an empathy that I hope the bereaved can feel when I attend.

❤️

“Taking Jesus’ body, the two of them wrapped it, with the spices, in strips of linen. This was in accordance with Jewish burial customs.”
John 19:40 NIV

Grief + Time...Still = Grief

Wed, 04 Dec 2019 02:30:15 -0600

“Grief plus time still equals grief. It’s just to varying degrees.”

It is said, “A burdened shared is lightened.” I have found this is usually the case. A heavy load is more easily carried when someone picks up the other end. Mr. FixIt picks up the other end of my grief much of the time. While it isn’t necessarily his job, he helps me through the worst times because he is my partner in all things.

That being said, I totally get how blessed I am to have this man in my life and I know he would keep picking up that other end till the cows came home. All I have to do is ask. That’s precisely why I don’t a lot of the time. It’s a tough job to love a widow. It takes a strong man. I don’t want him to burn out and decide this is more than what he bargained for. Besides, at some point, I had to learn to let Jesus do the heavy lifting for me so I could work on the feelings in my heart.

It has been 2,457 days since Mr. Virgo died. I’ve come light years since those early days when I had zero control over my emotions. I was a slave to the whims of my limbic system. If you go back and read my early writing, you’ll find many nights when I literally grabbed onto the side of the mattress and hung on for dear life. Waves of grief led to oceans of anxiety that threatened to drown me every night. I knew if I could just hang on till the sun came up, it would be better. Eventually, ever so slowly, inch by inch…things got better. That’s why, when I get hit now, it’s fairly predictable and fairly remarkable.

Triggers.

There will always be triggers, no matter how long it’s been since your loss.

On Sunday morning, when we got the call about the young man who was killed in the car accident, my heart started racing, my hands were sweating, and my mind started to race. I had my hands full with dinner in various stages of completion. And, while I am not close to the young man, he was close family through Mr. FixIt’s children and grandchildren. I felt it was important to keep moving and get food ready for everyone.

I did well all day. I was supportive and listened and hugged everyone. I even told my story about losing Mr. Virgo to the family members who didn’t know me then. But, when I went to bed, I was quickly overwhelmed. My grief comes out through my stomach and I was sick most of the night. Just as it was in the early days, if I’m going to have any trouble with grief, it’s going to be in the long dark hours of the night.

Fortunately, I have come a long way since those early days. I have learned a lot of tricks to help me get through the rough stuff. I know how to divert my attention by getting up and doing something different rather than lay there in bed mulling things over. Still, there are times when it all catches up with me and I can’t do anything about it. Those are the times I take something for my nausea and anxiety, go into the spare bedroom so as to not disturb my husband. Then, I talk out loud to Jesus until I drift off to sleep. When I wake up the next day, I’m fine and ready to take on the world again.

Tonight is the visitation. This will be hard. I will do my best to be there and support my bonus family and my husband. But I will not lie…this is not going to be easy for me. What I will tell myself all day tomorrow is…”If you think it’s hard to go to this, imagine his mother. His grandparents. His cousins. His friends. You can do this. It isn’t happening to YOU now.”

That’s the thing you have to convince yourself. It isn’t happening to YOU. Because that’s where your mind takes you. Memory is a cruel mistress.

❤️

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”
John 14:27 NIV

Recovery Day

Tue, 03 Dec 2019 02:30:13 -0600

“Christmas Lights & Pie”

When all the food is put away…when all the dishes are done…when all the guests have said their last goodbye…what time is it? It’s time for PIE! Well, really…is there ever a BAD time for pie? We turned off the lights…all but the tree. And just enjoyed the quiet.

I took the kitten in bright and early to be spayed and immediately came home and slept three more hours. Working to put on a big family dinner takes the starch out of you. And it gets harder the older you get.

The babies were so much fun. Princess First was in rare form, ate like a champ, colored brilliantly, and melted me with “Pweeze, Gigi!” I’m toast. Then there was Prince Second. Oy, he is a solid chunk of sheer joy. He smiles and coos and bats his big eyes at me. All I wanted to do all day was kiss and nibble on those cheeks…they are so delectable!

Once the kitten was ready, I went to pick her up. They informed me she needs to stay in the house for the next ten days. You know what that means, don’t you? It means we now have an indoor cat. Bring me all the antihistamines in the land! It’s better, really. I worry about her outside with that road even though she was safe in the pole building every night. I also found out we can board her with our vet when we go out of town. So it was a win-win day.

Now I can turn my focus back to writing. The OH-WV Chapter page on the new Girl Camper website needs my attention every couple of weeks. There are presents to make. Cookies to bake. Calls to make. Cards to send. This will be a busy and quick month for all of us. Then we can start making all our camping plans for the New Year! There’s going to be some fun things happening on the east side…up and down the mid-Atlantic area so keep your eyes peeled for announcements!

Katy bar the door…all heck is gonna break loose around here!

❤️

“Put your outdoor work in order and get your fields ready; after that, build your house.”
Proverbs 24:27 NIV

Ok, Boomer...

Sun, 01 Dec 2019 02:30:54 -0600

“Ok, Boomer…terms of derision from a fed up generation.”

I’m a Boomer. Proud of it. And, like most people who are “of a certain age”, I find myself looking at the younger generations with a critical eye. As has happened with each preceding generation, the young people are looking at us like we’re dinosaurs. Out of touch actors that don’t have a clue. The first time I heard the snarky, derisive phrase…”Ok, Boomer”…I was frankly ticked off. How dare they…snot nosed little whippersnappers!

OMGosh…yes, I just said that!

Our generation came along after WWII during the Cold War when the economy was booming. All we had to do was roll up our sleeves, go to college, get a great job, build houses and buy cars and furniture and toys galore. Not all of us, certainly. I came from a poor home. But there was opportunity that our parents certainly didn’t have.

Then, our children came along. The Sesame Street Gen X-ers reaped a lot of the benefits of our hard work. The computer, then the internet, then cell phones…technology boomed and the world became a much smaller place. Then along came Generation Y…the Millennials…my younger daughter’s generation. And Gen Z…the children of Gen Y who know nothing other than the digital age.

Boomers often call the younger generations lazy, entitled brats who never had to work for anything…who got a trophy for showing up…who weren’t spanked by their parents and never suffered consequences for their actions. If they are brats, we are to blame. We raised them. Well, us and Dr. Spock.

I feel bad for the younger generations. We are leaving them with a terrible debt to pay. We have consistently and continually abused the planet, spent ourselves into oblivion, and we are preparing to ride off into the sunset. My older daughter and her husband are blessed. They bought a home before the bottom fell out of the housing market in 2008. My younger daughter is 29 and this is a far different world she is facing. This generation may never own homes.

While I don’t like “Ok, Boomer”…I can understand their frustration. They are saddled with immeasurable student loan debt. They can’t get jobs the way we got jobs…not when “Text 12345 to apply” is how you do it. They can’t dress up and knock on doors unannounced. They have to work 2, 3, or more odd jobs. And the jobs nowadays are not providing benefits. These kids have to get roommates to survive. They’ll eat a lifetime of ramen.

I worry about the upcoming generations. What will things be like for our great grandchildren? And the great- great- ones that we will never know? We have to become more forward thinking to preserve some sort of life for them. Or, I should say…Gen X-ers will. We can’t say we weren’t warned. I guess “OK, Boomer” isn’t far off the mark, is it?

❤️

“He decreed statutes for Jacob and established the law in Israel, which he commanded our ancestors to teach their children, so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children.”
Psalms 78:5-6 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

Refill Your Cup

Sun, 24 Nov 2019 02:30:55 -0600

“You can’t fill someone else with an empty cup.”

I met the Coffee Divas from my high school class yesterday. We try to meet once a month or so but I’ve been gone so much this year, it’s been a little less than that. When I returned from my WV tour in the Girl Camper charity raffle trailer, I was really ready to just be at home for a little bit. I wouldn’t say I was burned out…that sounds so negative and it wasn’t a negative kind of feeling at all. I just missed home and missed my sweet Mr. FixIt and I was ready to just be in one place and not move for a while.

There were eight of us at coffee yesterday. We are all so different…yet so similar. We’ve gone through a lot of the same things…sometimes at the same time…sometimes not. The wonderful thing about being “of a certain age” is our ability to relate to so many different experiences. One of my friends lost her mom a year ago Friday. She’s been experiencing all the things the come with that and I was so happy to see her reaching out as she lifts herself up from that slump we all go through in the year after a significant loss.

One of the gals had never been to one of our coffees. She knew some of us but not all. I never knew her in school, but she knew Mr. FixIt. She is introverted, as so many are. And she was stretching her boundaries to reach out and make new friends. That is not an easy thing to do when you’re sixty-six. We welcomed her with open arms. I watched a change come over her as the two hours passed. When she came in, her shoulders were tense…her eyes searching for a familiar face. By the time she left, her eyes danced and her dazzling smile said she had reached a happy place. Her cup was being filled.

As we chatted about the places we find ourselves on this journey, I told the girls we cannot expect to fill others with an empty cup. We have to get replenished…to drink from the well and be filled ourselves. I told them…it is not selfish to practice self-care. I love that we are there for each other…this variety of women whose singular most common thread is the high school class we graduated from.

I feel so much better now after being home a few weeks. I’ve rested. I’m sleeping well. I’ve had lots of hugs from my sweetheart and snuggled my great grandbabies. This week is Thanksgiving. Our plans are fluid. We might go to my cousin’s house. We might just stay home. Our local family Thanksgiving celebration is next Sunday. This is a week for all of us to reflect on the blessings we have…whether we are on the mountain top…or in a dark valley.

This is our time to look for ways to fill up our cups. When I look to God first as my Source, I’m filled with Living Water. When I look to my loved ones second, I’m filled with the blessings He has already given me. As you walk into this week, may you remember to fill your cup first so you can be a fount of inspiration for others. And may you encounter peace and love.

❤️

“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

Sensory Overload

Thu, 21 Nov 2019 02:30:59 -0600

“Here’s a soft kitty to take your mind off of things!”

It’s a well known fact…I hate television. I’ve spent long stretches of time in my life without watching TV and have never missed it. But, I’ve always owned one and had basic cable. I found that to be particularly important when I lived alone out at the family farm here in West Virginia. If there was some kind of alert or a national emergency or impending bad weather, it was important to me to be able to tune in for updates. I just never sit in front of the TV watching endless hours of mindless drivel. That is, until the hearings started.

Oh. My. Gosh. I feel like it is my civic duty to watch to see what is happening AND to further educate myself on the material being presented. I have now watched more television over the course of three days than I have watched in the last decade…total. My head is screaming. My eyes hurt and feel like I have sand in them. My ears are ringing. I’m nauseous and agitated. My temper is short. My memory is shorter.

How on earth do people watch TV all the time? Maybe it’s the material. I’m having to concentrate really hard. I also have to pause the proceedings every once in a while and Google a term or a name to keep track of what’s happening. I’m miserable, but I’m bound and determined to see it through to be an informed American.

That being said, there were several times when I had to ask Mr. FixIt to pause the TV and let me have a break. At which point I went outside for kitty snuggles. Every time I opened the door, this little bundle of sweetness came running for me to pick her up and tuck her in my sweater. We walked around and I listened to the steady rumble of her purr. I talked to her softly and told her what a sweet kitty she is. When my attention seemed to wander, she took her paw and gently touched my face to bring me back to her. Sometimes she would move up and snuggle her head right under my chin.

When sanity returned and the kitten went off to chase a leaf or pounce on a branch blowing in the breeze, I came back in and watched some more. It’s oddly addictive, like watching a train wreck and you can’t look away. Which, I suppose in many ways…it is. These are crazy times we live in…no matter what side of the aisle you sit on. I don’t know how much more of this I can watch…AND…I don’t want to miss anything.

With that…let me offer you a little black kitten to look at to take your mind off it all.

❤️

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
Psalms 139:23-24 NIV

Story Update: Little Gwen

Wed, 20 Nov 2019 02:30:01 -0600

“We’ve been following Little Gwen since she was born with Arthrogryposis. Look…she’s standing!!!”

Last year I wrote about little Gwen. Her grandma is my friend, Jody who graduated with Daughter #1. Gwen was born with Arthrogryposis. I posted a picture of her back then with her little twisted legs and hands. One knee bent completely backwards and her foot sat in front of her face. Her jaw is severely recessed and because of that, her swallowing is restricted. She has had a feeding tube ever since she was a newborn.

God knew what He was doing when He brought Gwen to her family. I can’t imagine any family any better equipped to handle the severe challenges that lay in front of them. They stand up and deliver the very best for Gwen and are her true champions.

Gwen has had more than her share of setbacks in her short life with frequent hospitalizations. In spite of the Arthrogryposis, she has come further than anyone could have imagined. She has the best medical team around and has made great strides.

Her legs are straight now but she still wears braces to help keep them growing right. Her little feet aren’t moving with the braces like they had hoped so she may need to have surgery to fix them. These are difficult decisions for young parents to make. This surgery may help her feet move into a better position. However, it can also condemn her to wearing braces on her legs the rest of her life. That’s a lot to consider. It isn’t an emergency, so Mom and Dad are getting a second opinion.

I wanted to share Gwen’s most recent photo. This picture just warmed my heart. Look at her standing up! I’m so happy for her and her family. They’ve worked so hard to see every little milestone. I know they get discouraged from time to time, but they are the first to get right back up and encourage Gwennie to be her best little self…no matter what life brings her way!

Won’t you join me in lifting Gwen and her family up in prayer? Pray that they find the perfect solution for her little feet. Pray that her body gets strong and that illness stays away from her. Pray for strength and courage, joy and peace for her and her entire family. They are a faith-filled family and know where their every blessing comes from. Praises for her accomplishments.

We love you, little Gwen! Keep up the good work and remember, God is with you always!

❤️

“Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.””
Luke 14:12-14 NIV

Healing and Scars and Joy

Tue, 19 Nov 2019 02:30:14 -0600

“Although grief is never finished, healing can occur and you can use your scars to help others.”

Grief doesn’t run in a straight line. Anything but. We’d love to see the slow and steady climb from that deep, dark valley head right up the side of that mountain to joy. But, unfortunately…it just doesn’t happen that way. Grief runs all skwiggly-skwog…up and down, back and forth, around and around and around.

At first you don’t think you are making any progress at all. You can’t feel anything but pain. You cant see two minutes in front of you. It’s a bloody wonder we survive at all. The world is dark. No color…no sound…and certainly no joy.

One of the things people had the hardest time understanding in my early writing was the “gems in the flames”. I always looked for those gifts God left for me along my path as he led me through the fire. This wasn’t just a Pollyanna attempt to keep my glass half full. This was an exercise in faith knowing that…even in my darkest, most painful moments…my cup was still full to overflowing because Jesus was in that valley with me. Urging me on. Asking me to trust Him and just take one more step.

It’s easy to have faith when things are looking good. When you’re standing on the mountaintop and you’re feeling great, you may even forget to thank God for carrying you through the muck. Or, you might throw a cursory “Thanks!” His way then think “I’ve got this!” No, it’s when you’re down at your lowest…when life is hard and painful and dirty and ugly…and you beg for God to catch you and bring you out of this that you lean in closest.

When you’re walking the road of grief and things hurt so bad and grieving tears your heart out of your chest, you may very well be tempted to take a shortcut. Circumvent the whole process, push that nasty wad of grief way, way down deep inside and slap a smile on your face. Because, let’s face it…that’s what the world is usually asking you to do. “Aren’t you over this yet?” “You just need to _____________” (fill in the blank with any of a zillion suggestions you receive). The sheer variety of platitudes is mind numbing.

Oh, you can try to walk around it or climb under it, but one of these days, that bandage is going to come off and you’re going to have to face grief head on and it’s going to be ten times worse than it was before. At least, that’s what happened with me when I tried to date someone way…WAY too soon after Mr. Virgo died.

Even four years after Mr. Virgo died and I started dating Mr. Fixit, I was still pretty broken. Fortunately, he has a huge heart and an infinite amount of patience with me. He allowed me to talk it all through with him. He’s a great listener. Then one day, I didn’t feel compelled to talk about it as much and my heart truly started to heal.

Mr. Virgo came along when I was in a really vulnerable place. I had gone through a particularly difficult and ugly breakup/divorce five years before. And still, for the first year, that man listened oh so patiently as I went though all the gory details and told him every sad and angry story. He saw the potential and he invested in our love.

Both of these men love me with the white hot heat of the sun. Neither relationship would have ever worked had I not already worked through a lot of the pain of grief…both that of divorce and that of death. Those two men I dated between Mr. Virgo’s death and Mr. FixIt’s arrival though? Oy! I bled all over them from wounds they never caused. It wasn’t fair to them. I hate that I was blind and couldn’t see past my own need for a tourniquet.

Fortunately, I did come to some understanding how unfair it was to another person to try to have a relationship too soon. That’s when I stopped trying to date and started a serious relationship with Jesus. Then…when I was in a much better place…I was ready to open my heart and try again. It isn’t easy. There’s nothing about grief that is easy. And if you are in the throes of it, you will not understand this, but…I’ve come to look at every situation with a level of Joy. Maybe not jump up and down happy-happy joy. But with the Joy of knowing I have a Father in Heaven who loves me and will never, ever leave me. I have Jesus to hang onto when I go through the worst of situations. THAT Joy….that Joy with a capital “J”.

There is Joy in the scars because you have the opportunity to share your story with others. You have the opportunity to reach back to others coming behind you who are trying to find their footing in their pain. Your scars give you the freedom to love others. Your scars give you validity. They show others they aren’t alone. And when you can be there for another who hurts like you once hurt, you give the greatest gift possible. Empathy.

You don’t have to have flowery words. You don’t have to offer Hallmark phrases. You can give a hug, sit quietly, or just be honest and say, “Whew…I don’t know what to say, but I’m here for you.” It’s isn’t easy to be there for someone who’s in pain, but it is so fulfilling to know you can somehow help another human being when they’re hurting.

Being vulnerable. Being available. Being open and honest. That is where I find my Joy in grief.

❤️

“Lord my God, I called to you for help, and you healed me.”
Psalms 30:2 NIV

Nothing’s What it Seems

Mon, 18 Nov 2019 02:30:30 -0600

“The truth isn’t always what it seems.”

The first time I saw a Computer Generated Image I thought, ”Uh-oh…we’re about to open Pandora’s Box here.” I think it’s worse than anyone could have ever imagined. Oh, airbrushed models is one thing. But Photoshop and other programs like it have the potential of wreaking havoc on an already insane world.

My grandkids liked SnapChat when it first came out. They would send funny pictures of themselves with bunny ears or puppy noses. Then the app became more and more sophisticated and there are several filters that can really alter your appearance. True…anyone with a critical eye can tell the photos are filtered, but SnapChat is like the “Fun With Dick and Jane” of photographic manipulation.

I was playing with the app this weekend, trying to come up with something funny to send Little. These were my top picks. I had to laugh at the absurdity of the “what would I look like as a dude” photo. And the one with pink hair was fun. The brooding one with the Barbra Streisand nose was intriguing. But the one of the little girl kind of twisted my heart a little.

Speaking of things not being what they seem, have you been reading about these people who think the earth is flat? Like…really. They’re all over the world. They have conventions and t-shirts and everything. This isn’t fairly innocuous stuff like “Furries” or “Comic Con” or “CosPlay”. These are real people driving cars and voting. And that’s scary as sh…I mean…stuff!

My great uncle totally believed the lunar landing never happened. He says it was all done in a studio because there was no possible way people could actually get to and then walk on the moon. Ok. I can see how he got there in his thinking. He was born at the turn of the century. He witnessed a lot of innovation over his lifetime. He was of a more skeptical generation and from the hills of West Virginia. He was a hard worker and a very good man with no secondary education.

I don’t think we are necessarily talking about uneducated people when we examine the “flat earthers”. It makes me want to smack my forehead and go screaming into the night. I mean…ok, if the world is flat, where is the edge? At what point does it just stop? What keeps the oceans from flowing over the edge? Is there a big wall around it? How do they explain time zones and why it’s night in Paris and daytime in New York…at the same moment? I read an interview with one man who says it’s not like that. He says the world is actually a dome, like in the movie “The Truman Show”.

I don’t understand how people can dispute that base knowledge after over 2000 years of study. It’s not something simple like finding out coconut oil isn’t good for you after all. This is fundamental scientific belief that goes well beyond proving the facts. Conspiracy theorists have been around longer than computers, but the Internet makes it far too easy for such theories to take root and spread like an uncontrolled disease.

I don’t know…maybe my dad was right. Maybe computers and the Internet ARE going to be the end of civilization as we know it.

This is the kind of stuff that keeps me up at night.

❤️

“Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body.”
Ephesians 4:25 NIV

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors: Setting and Keeping Boundaries

Sat, 16 Nov 2019 02:30:26 -0600

“Setting boundaries is like building a good fence. It keeps life neat and tidy.”

Growing up in a dysfunctional home in the ‘50s and ‘60s with an alcoholic father taught me a lot of things. But how to set and keep boundaries was not one of them. Heck, I didn’t have a clue what the term meant. My family of origin was so codependent, there was very little demarcation between where I ended and where others started.

This carried into my adult relationships. I married men who were equally codependent and it nearly killed me. After Hubby #2 and I split up, I bought Melody Beattie’s book…Codependent No More. It was eye opening. I will never forget the day I drew the line in the sand, creating a kind of demilitarized zone between us. The look on his face was “shock and awe”.

That was the day I began to own myself. I set clear boundaries and expectations. I demanded respect because, for the first time in my life, I felt true self respect. It was liberating. As I’ve gotten older, there are some boundaries set in stone, but others have become a little more flexible offering some give and take while still keeping the searchlights on the perimeter.

I was watching the hearings yesterday for the Impeachment Inquiry. I was impressed at the poise and dignity shown by the former U.S. ambassador, Marie Yovanovitch. She never lost her cool. She answered with the aplomb one would expect from a seasoned diplomat. That is, until one of the female panel members (I’m sorry, I cannot remember her name) started a line of questioning that got personal.

Her question…how did this affect you…elicited a guarded response. “I am a very private person, but…well, it’s been difficult.”

“How has this affected your family?”

Women recognize the look on the ambassador’s face. She was crumbling behind that mask. Then, instead of capitulating and answering, she said, “I’d really rather not answer that…” immediately followed with a sincere, “but, thank you for asking.” That’s a boundary. I know it sounds condescending, but I felt so proud of her in that moment.

Women are programmed from a very young age that it isn’t polite not to answer someone’s question. That’s ridiculous. Just because someone asks does NOT mean you need to answer. This boundary can come in very handy when you are a widow. You can say no. You can change your mind. What sounded great three weeks ago may not work when it comes down to going. It’s ok to say no. It’s ok to change your mind.

I was talking with Daughter #1 last night. She was telling me about Big being on two swim teams…the competitive club team and her high school team. The new high school coach wants all the team members to come to swim practice all the time. So does the club coach. My granddaughter is all of 15 and she has set boundaries for what she can and cannot achieve. They need her because she’s good. She isn’t being a prima dona about it…she just knows her limitations. The coach tried a threatening tactic. “If you don’t come to all the practices, you won’t letter.” “That’s ok I just want to swim with my friends and be on the team I already lettered for swimming .” As a matter of fact, she’s lettered in swimming and academics (STEM) and has been inducted in the National Honor Society. Yeah, she’s good without the threats.

It warmed my heart to hear how my daughter stood up for and respected her own daughter’s boundaries. This is how we raise healthy young women to be strong and stand up for themselves. Because today it’s the swim team. Tomorrow it’s the college professors or coaches or football players. She needs to be able to set and keep boundaries for her own health and safety.

Making and keeping boundaries was a new life skill that I didn’t learn until I was in my 50’s. Now I’m at the point where I relish the opportunities to help younger people establish this skill in their own lives. It’s not only valuable, it’s absolutely necessary to protect your mental and physical self.

❤️

“Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else, for each one should carry their own load.”
Galatians 6:4-5 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

A New Approach to Winter

Thu, 14 Nov 2019 02:30:56 -0600

“Making choices to find more joy…that’s my approach to winter this year.”

I started dreading winter with a vengeance after Mr. Virgo died. I wasn’t crazy about it a long time before that, but after he died the snow shovel only had one name on it and that was mine. Before long, I began to dread fall because winter wasn’t far behind. While I was out on the West Virginia Tour in the RPod, it began to dawn on me how negative this was becoming.

I can’t change the weather. I can change my geographic location, which I’ve done. Just moving to West Virginia has added at least two full months of warmer weather with a longer growing season. If I wanted to get away from cold weather entirely, I’d have to move much further south and for now, that isn’t in the cards for Mr. FixIt and me.

We love West Virginia. It’s our home…the home of our hearts. It took me a long time to get back here. I’m not about to go someplace else at this point. So, that leaves the adjustment up to me. I saw this meme the other day and it really hit home. I can choose to hate winter, and now fall because winter is right after it. I’ll be miserable and consequently make everyone around me miserable. Because, we’re still going to have the same amount of snow and cold weather no matter if I’m happy or sad.

When I was a little girl and would get upset, my grandma would tell me to just “scratch my mad place and get glad”. In other words, get over it kiddo…you’re not in control of everything. This year I’ve decided to scratch my mad place by embracing all the wonderful things I can do in the colder months that I can’t do in the summer.

I have a much better winter wardrobe than summer. I can look forward to wearing my really pretty sweaters and boots, hats and coats.
I never drink hot beverages other than coffee in the summer. In the fall and winter, I pull out my tea pot and enjoy a cuppa in the middle of the afternoon. Or, I can hug a mug of hot cocoa with yummy, gooey, melty marshmallows in it.
It’s way too hot in the summer to bake so I indulge in trying out new recipes in the cooler months. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at baking sourdough bread. So this winter I’m going to order some sourdough starter and see what I can do.
Winter has given us the break we need from outdoor chores so Mr. FixIt is back at work on the master bath. While he’s doing that, I am going to steam off the wallpaper in the dining room, paint the walls, and put up new curtains. Then we can tackle the main bath.
I haven’t touched my book since February. This winter, in my down time, I’m going to try to wrap that up once and for all then we can focus on getting it published.
We have a new great grandson coming in January!
We always try to get down to Florida in February and that’s something I always look forward to.

Having goals allows me to set joyful things in front of me…something that has helped me ever since Mr. Vigo died. Just reading this list makes me feel far less frustrated by the cold weather. The meme is right…there will be the same amount of cold, no matter what. I might as well embrace it.

❤️

“The animals take cover; they remain in their dens. The tempest comes out from its chamber, the cold from the driving winds. The breath of God produces ice, and the broad waters become frozen.”
Job 37:8-10 NIV

And So...It Begins

Thu, 07 Nov 2019 02:30:17 -0600

“One week. Two vet visits. Still in love!”

The tale of the little black kitten continues. If you’ve been following along, Mr. FixIt broke the news to me gently over breakfast last week that he’d been seeing another woman. Young, sleek, athletic, this raven-haired beauty had stolen his heart when I so ruthlessly left him to his own devices at the Ponderosa. At first, I was stunned that he could so blithely betray me in such a way. And without even a touch of remorse, too! Humph!!!

Then, just a few hours later, I met her myself. I was determined to not like her. I didn’t WANT her in my life. I liked things just the way they were, thank you very much. But, as I was unhooking the camper, Mr. FixIt stole away to find his little lady-friend and bring her ‘round to meet me. She ran to me with wild abandon and every shred of resolve I had to NOT like her dissolved on the spot.

And…we were cat owners. Well…as much as you can actually OWN a cat.

I took the kitten, now appropriately named Pumpkin to fit in with the whole black-cat-on-Halloween vibe, to the vet on Tuesday for her first shots and a thorough exam. She has obviously been handled by people because she isn’t in the least bit worried about anything. After the initial “get me out of this box” dance in the cat carrier, she settled in quite easily. Everyone at the vet’s office remarked how incredibly laid back this kitten is.

She weighs a little over four pounds. Healthy and sleek. Her lab tests showed she does not have feline leukemia nor does she have intestinal parasites. They figured she is around three months old. They gave her the appropriate vaccines and sent us on our way. In two minutes, she was asleep in the carrier and slept all the way home.

I fed her some kitten food, she demonstrated her excellent litter box skills (I didn’t have to train her, by the way) and readily went inside her nice warm kitty condo in the pole building for a well deserved snooze. I came out to check on her a couple of times and each time, she was more and more lethargic.

I called the vet’s office and they said kittens can get reactions like our own babies did when they got their shots and she should be fine, just to watch her. Well, yesterday morning she was even worse. She wouldn’t purr, and when I turned her over in my arms for a cuddle, she cried pitifully and tried to nip at me. I knew this wasn’t right so I called the vet again. They asked me to bring her in for a look.

Turned out, she was running quite a fever. They needed to give her fluids subcutaneously and a dose of an anti inflammatory to get her fever down. I took her home afterward and by evening she was much, much improved.

One of my dearest friends is quite the cat person, so I was sharing all the details with her yesterday. Diane knows me well. I could just see the look on her face as she read about the “first real emergency”. I think eye-rolling might have been involved just before the “lol”. I’m a bit of a princess. Maybe ever so slightly “high needs”. I think it’s only fitting that God sends me a kitten to love who is, perhaps, a “Delicate Flower 2.0”, as Diane put it.

Kismet. Karma. God has a sense of humor.

The thing is, I haven’t loved an animal for a long time. Oh, we had Cricket…Mr. Virgo’s little Yorkie-Maltese mix who was already ten years old when we met. Cricket was hard to be head over heels in love with. She barked incessantly and did her business anywhere she darn well pleased in my house. She did not like my grandchildren because she did not understand what these little aliens were. I loved her because she was one of God’s creatures, and because she was Mr. Virgo’s. I loved Old Mama Kitty, but I couldn’t pick her up and hold her. I loved my black lab, Sidney. And then there was that dog of my heart, Boofer…oh, I was crushed when she had to be put down with a brain tumor at only seven.

No, I had closed off my heart to pets. I swore I would never go down this road again. Then, this little ball of fur came bounding into my arms and something opened up in my chest that I didn’t even realize was closed. Something all soft and sweet and vibrant, like the purring of a thousand kittens, vibrated in my heart and I became just a little bit more…alive.

❤️

“The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.”
Proverbs 12:10 NIV

Safety on the Road

Wed, 06 Nov 2019 02:30:14 -0600

“Being safe in the woods means staying aware of your surroundings and listening to your gut.”

There were only two times on this last trip that my antennae went up as I paid close attention to what was happening around me. The first time was when I was at Calhoun County Park trying to see a meteor shower. This park only has eight campsites in the first place. And I was there in the middle of the week after school started so there was no one up there camping. There were people in the community building both evenings but they didn’t come over near me.

Sometime after dark on the second night, a car drove slowly by my camper out to the end of the park and stayed there for about ten minutes. I turned off all the lights in the camper and peeked out from behind the blinds. The car came back and just drove right on by without slowing down, so the tension in my shoulders eased. Mr. FixIt told me he very nearly came out to camp with me out there but he resisted the urge.

The second time I was even remotely concerned was at the last campground I stayed. Twin Falls is stunningly beautiful, as you can tell by the photos I took. But the campground itself is located on the very top of a long and winding mountain, pretty far away from the main park buildings. At this time of year, the campground office and store is closed and there wasn’t a campground host.

On the first night, I read the story about the couple who were boondocking on South Padre Island and went missing. Then surveillance video showed a man and woman, not the owners, driving the truck and camper across the border into Mexico. They were later found buried in shallow graves on the beach. This freaked me out, I will not lie. The next evening, the man who was camping over on the next row walked through the woods between us to come talk to me when I pulled in after spending time at the lodge, writing.

He told me he had tried to flag down the park worker who had just driven through the campground on a side-by-side but couldn’t catch his attention. He also said he didn’t have a phone so he couldn’t call anyone. He told me someone had come to the bath house earlier in the afternoon and their car was there for a couple of hours. After they had gone, this man went over to the bath house and someone had smeared feces all over one of the stalls in the men’s room.

Ok, that was creepy, but the man seemed harmless enough. After all, he introduced himself by name. And I know stuff happens in campgrounds. I know how to handle myself and to watch what’s going on. I told him I would let someone at the park office know what had happened and he was grateful. As he turned to leave, he swung back around with a big smile and said, “I suppose you saw me all over the news last night!”

Um…no, I did not. I thought to myself…what did you do that put you on the news?

I swung the door of my truck closed. Then he proceeded to tell me he rode his bicycle all the way from California to look for the father he never knew. Apparently the news had followed him across the country on his quest. I wished him luck finding his dad and I went to tell someone about the men’s room.

That was the night when the truck started making a grinding noise and the first thing that went through my head was “What do I do if I get stuck here? What if the bathroom vandal came back? What if “Bicycle Man” wanted to get friendly?” My imagination started to get the better of me and I had to pray myself to peace. And ask my gal pals to pray for me as well. And, I texted Mr. FixIt to come “help me check out this truck”.

I wasn’t really scared. But I was leery. And I was tired and a little road weary after six weeks of camping. It didn’t hurt a bit to get my strong, capable husband to come help me out and be my encourager. He told me he ran into one of my friends at the mall that week. She had been reading about my journey and she told Mr. FixIt she didn’t think she could do that and didn’t I get scared?

“Nope! She’s the bravest woman I know!”

Knowing he feels that way about me, and that he worries but lets me have my lead, makes me feel wonderful. I have spoken with my closest friends about this….I could never, EVER have done what I’m doing while I was married to Mr. Virgo. Not only did I lack the self confidence, but he would NOT have liked me being gone. He didn’t like me being gone for the weekend to Denver to see the kids. He wouldn’t have stood for me being gone the majority of six weeks. As a matter of fact, when we first started dating, he said he wasn’t interested in dating someone who wanted to spend much time apart.

Mr. Virgo liked me being right there with him. When he watched TV, he liked me to watch TV with him. He didn’t like it if I was on the computer or the iPad or the phone either. Because, he wanted to discuss the show with me during the commercials. I did these things because I loved him, not because I loved watching TV. When you’re married, you do things sometimes that you don’t particularly enjoy. It’s called compromise.

Mr. FixIt came into my life when I was a free-spirited, independent, remote-camping gypsy who spends long hours writing. He knew what he was getting and gives me space to grow and spread my wings. That’s one of the things I love about him. I make it up to him by traveling and going to the beach and never saying a word about his bowling two nights a week. I cook him yummy meals and take him camping whenever I can. We treat each other with respect, honoring each other’s interests, and we have a lot of fun together.

It’s a win-win for us both.

❤️

“However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.”
Ephesians 5:33 NIV

Beetles...not Beatles

Tue, 05 Nov 2019 02:30:31 -0600

“This year’s crop of Asian Lady Beetles is massive.”

We went to the farm yesterday with one of our granddaughters and our great granddaughter. They’ve never been there. And I haven’t been there for over a month. This is the time of year for the Annual Asian Lady Beetle Infestation. The last few years they weren’t so bad. But this year is another massive invasion and I was appalled at the carnage in the house.

The front porch was covered. Literally covered with a carpet of a mix of dead and creepy crawly beetles. The Asian Lady Beetle looks very similar to the common ladybug but they are not the same thing. These were brought in to help control aphids, and…like many good ideas…things took a turn when they a) showed no interest in aphids, b) nothing in its right mind would eat these stinky things, and c) they multiply exponentially.

They seem to love to nest in dead brush and trees…something we have an abundance of in Appalachia. They also get in crevices around windows and under eaves in old country farm houses…like Grandma’s house. They make their debut on the first hot day after the first frost of the season. Along about 2:00-3:00 in the afternoon, you can look out and see them swarming in the sunshine. You can’t hang clothes out because they will just glom all over them, leaving behind their little yellow “signatures” that will NOT come out. And they LOVE whites!

We swept them up and dumped them outside by the dustpan full. We sucked them up with the vacuum cleaner. And the more we swept, the warmer it became outside, the more they swarmed. It was an entirely losing battle and we finally gave up. These little suckers bite, too! They bit my great granddaughter several times and she kept coming to me to put my cold bottle of soda on them to soothe her.

I did some laundry, turned off the dehumidifiers, checked the furnace and cranked it up, and prepped for winter. I called the exterminator to come and check for termites and treat the place if we need to. I walked the grounds with the girls, telling them stories of my youth. Then Mr. FixIt helped me load my jelly cupboard up to take home with us.

“My grandma’s jelly cupboard came home to live with me today!”

If anything would ever happen out at the farm, I want to make sure those sentimental things that I highly value are safe and secure with me. I was given this jelly cupboard by my Aunt Peeps. It’s really the only thing at the farm that I’ve ever wanted. I remember being no bigger than my great granddaughter when my grandma and mom took me to an auction down the road from the farm.

I was maybe two or three years old. I was sitting in a little blue wagon and they bought me a hotdog. They pulled me all around as I happily munched on my treat. Grandma had her eye on an old jelly cupboard that had multiple layers of white enamel pain on it. She bought it for the winning bid of $5.00. When they got it home, Pop-Pop used turpentine to strip the paint. I can still remember my fat baby hand holding a scraper, my Pop-Pop’s weathered and work-worn hand over mine showing my how to scrap the wrinkly paint that had loosened.

When he was done, he set a nice coat of varnish that has weathered to a lovely golden color that accentuates the wood’s grain. They painted the inside a garish orange that I hated…until it finally aged and weathered to the most delightful pumpkin color. This cabinet speaks autumn to me and it has usurped my aunt’s rain boots as my favorite possession.

There was a time after Mr. Virgo died that I wanted nothing. I would have been happy to have a handful of favorite things and a toothbrush. I have slowly accumulated things I love. The difference now is, these things are carefully selected and must meet the following criteria.

They must give me joy.
They must serve a function.
They must be beautiful.

Our kids don’t want all that heavy brown furniture our grandparents handed down. They don’t want boxes of books or pictures of people they do not know. They don’t want Aunt Maude’s tea set with the little butterflies on it. They just might want a sturdy wooden jelly cupboard. And, if they don’t, I know people who do that I can leave it to. In the meantime, it sits in a place of honor in the family room at the Ponderosa. It will house my collection of quilts behind the original glass doors that we so very carefully protected as we traveled that winding West Virginia road from the farm. My heart is so happy.

❤️

“Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.”
Proverbs 22:6 NIV

Does Time Heal All Wounds?

Mon, 04 Nov 2019 02:30:36 -0600

“Does time heal all my wounds? Not in my time…but in God’s time.”

I’ve been struggling a little with re-entry. The rhythm of the road is different than that at home and I always have a bit of a hard time adjusting. It’s a little like the let down after the holidays…you know, when you have to get back to reality. Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s just always a little sad when the party is over.

Yesterday morning I woke up at what seemed like a reasonable time with the time change. As I stretched and thanked God for letting me open my eyes to face another day, I went through my morning inventory. I noticed I felt a little down so I searched around in my mind as to what might be going on beyond the normal re-entry slump.

Then it came back to me. I was having a dream when I awoke. In my dream, I was sitting at a desk, going through my calendar, and realized it had been over six-and-a-half years since I had spoken with Mr. Virgo. In the dream, he hadn’t died…I had just seemed to have lost contact with him. I was really confused, like…did I go someplace and forget him? Did I tell him I’d call him when I got there and then just…didn’t? If that was the case, then why hadn’t he tried to contact me? What on earth was keeping him so tied up that he couldn’t find the time to text or call me? Then, of course, I woke up. And reality is reality. He is gone. I am here and happily married to Mr. FixIt. So, why did I have such a dream?

There aren’t answers to that, really. I believe it was Freud who said, “a cigar is sometimes just a cigar”. There’s no reason to psychoanalyze every little thing. We have dreams. Things happen. Life moves with its own rhythm. Still, dreams like that can stir something deeper and create a ripple in the force.

The day went on and was lovely. Church, breakfast, errands, a nice Sunday afternoon snooze. Then, I went into the bedroom for something and had that old familiar urge to call my mom. I always called her on Sunday evenings. I miss those calls and it made my heart ache a little. Then I thought of my kids and how busy they are and they don’t call me on Sunday evenings and…

That particular snowball had to stop right there. It doesn’t do any good to go down that road and make myself miserable over things I have no control over. There are wounds that heal with time. They become so small they don’t even leave a scar. There are wounds that heal and leave visible scars. Then there are those that not only have the scars, but also have varying degrees of pain. Like the phantom pain of a leg long gone or a throbbing knee when it rains.

Grief and time. I see them like those models of DNA. A twisted ladder, connected and spiraling. Never really finished. Never quite tangible. Always affected by our emotional temperature. No…time doesn’t heal all wounds. But, God does. When I remember to stop trying to handle hot coals with my bare hands and give them to my Father to carry, my wounds are bound up. It’s just the remembering to turn them over that trips me up every time.

❤️

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
Psalms 147:3 NIV

Back to the Comforts of Home

Sun, 03 Nov 2019 02:30:13 -0600

“My little office on the go in the R-Pod 196”

One thing I really was challenged by with I was touring West Virginia was internet accessibility. If it weren’t for the fact I’m a writer and I had deadlines to meet, I wouldn’t have really cared. But when you write every day, for yourself and for others, you have to be creative in how you stay connected.

There was a delicate balance I walked. On the one hand, I needed accessibility. On the other, I craved getting lost in the woods. I chose campsites based on the view first. I always looked at the campground maps when I made my reservations and chose the one off by itself. The one with the view….the quiet…the peace. My second criteria was electric. I didn’t really need water or sewer hookups. The r-pod has plenty of water tank capacity, both fresh and wastewater.

My last question was always, “Where can I get cell or wifi?” There were campgrounds I stayed in that had neither. In that case, I drove to the lodge to use theirs. There was one campground that had AT&T, but not Verizon. This picture was taken in the kitchen of the r-pod while I was camped at Watoga. I was pleased when the camp-host said the campground has WiFi at both bath houses. Then he added, “It’s really slow, though.”

He wasn’t kidding. One little bar. As a matter of fact, every place I stayed had either one little bar of cell or one little bar of WiFi. It was a tad frustrating. Anyway, there at Watoga I happened to be camped right beside the bath house. And, if I was away from that window, I couldn’t send or receive anything. I stood a lot at that window when it was time to upload my posts or check my e-mail or Facebook. This was my little office that particular week.

I was telling Mr. FixIt about this the other night when he came to camp with me at Twin Falls. I told him I used to complain about the WiFi at home. Now it’s going to feel like high-speed fiber-optics! Well, until I get used to it and then I’m liable to complain again at how slow it is.

Yesterday was a much better day. Mr. FixIt and I went to town to buy a warming pad and a storage tote to make Pumpkin a nice warm bed out in the pole building. We also bought a litter box. We already had the feeding dish/water bowl combo. I think Pumpkin is a girl but we’ll know for sure when we take her in to get her shots and checkup on Tuesday. Now I feel really good about her bedding situation and she has already come to love the building. I think she feels safe in there.

I’m so excited to go to my home church today. I have really missed my church family! I’m heading out to the farm this afternoon after church to get the house ready for winter. And then there will be far less items on that very long to-do list. Giving myself permission to have some down time with family and falling in love with a little black kitten just might be the best things I’ve done for myself in a very long time.

❤️

““Show me, Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is.”
Psalms 39:4 NIV

The Red Carpet Treatment

Thu, 31 Oct 2019 01:30:59 -0600

“Sitting on a red carpet of maple leaves, the 2020 R-Pod 196 is one of my favorite campers.”

You know the story of the toothache going away as soon as you get to the dentist? Well, Mr. FixIt is here (YAY!!!) and we took the truck for a long drive…all round the park, up and down hills, around and around curves and…..nothing. Not a sound. Except, when I very first pulled out of the campsite, the brakes squeaked. A long time ago, I was driving over a dirt road in the boonies of Colorado and suddenly the car started making this horrible grinding, screaming noise. When I stopped…the noise stopped. I had no idea what to do. Finally, a couple stopped and asked what was wrong.

When I described the noise to the man, he suggested perhaps I had a rock stuck in the brakes. He directed me to put my foot on the brake, put the car in reverse, and back up with my foot still on the brake. When I did, the rock was dislodged. I don’t know if that was the problem here, but when I pulled forward again with the truck, there was no squeak, no grinding…nothing. Good news…I hope! Great news…Mr. FixIt is here!!!

Since the truck seemed to be working fine, we went for a hike to see the falls here in Twin Falls State Park. It rained and was a little chilly so when we got back to the camper, I heated up some chili I had in the freezer. It really hit the spot.

So, this was the last night of the West Virginia Tour. It was so, so beautiful. And the r-pod worked perfectly. We’ll pull it home with Mr. FixIt’s truck today and watch my truck carefully. When I get home, I’ll have it checked to make sure it really is ok. I’ll leave you with a last look at the camper sitting on a beautiful red carpet of maple leaves. This part of the tour has been really special and I can’t wait to get back on the road to head south.

In the meantime, I’m going to spend a few days at home for some much needed family time and attend my home church on Sunday. Thanks so much for traveling along with me!

“The Lord will keep you from all harm— he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭121:7-8‬ ‭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

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

Overcoming Challenges

Fri, 25 Oct 2019 01:30:39 -0600

“Kicking back in my Vasques at the campsite at the end of the day makes all the challenges melt away!”

Yesterday saw its fair share of challenges. First, I was wide awake at 5:30am. I drove over Droop Mountain on Wednesday and frankly…I was a little concerned about pulling the camper over it. At 3060 feet elevation with a 9% grade, it is a considerable piece of real estate to cross over, especially hauling a camper.

The first thing I did Wednesday evening was take a long, hot shower to empty water out of the fresh tank into the grey tank. I knew I needed to offload as much weight as I could before I took on the mountains and curvy West Virginia roads the next morning. When I awoke at 5:30, I pulled out my atlas and went over my route for the umpteenth time. One side of my brain said, “Nope…not gonna.” But the adventurous side…the side that knows I can do all things with Jesus said, “Yep…we’re gonna do this!”

I hooked up the camper and pulled it over to the campground dump station. It was 8:00 in the morning and 37 degrees…a tad chilly. I got everything emptied and cleaned and put away, then headed out. My first obstacle was coming up the hill from Watoga State Park Campground into Seebert. There is a sign that tells you there is a sharp drop off on the right. In other words, the “shoulder” of the road is about…I don’t know…a hundred feet down, maybe? It was really no big deal…you just hug the center line and pray no one else is coming. And when they are, you stop. It doesn’t matter who might be behind you…they can just wait.

I was really pleased at how smoothly the Droop Mountain crossing went. My transmission temp stayed in a reasonable temperature range. There was a good deal of fog at the base, but I soon broke through to perfect sunshine and crisp air. The leaves that high are a bit past their prime, but still beautiful.

My biggest challenge came when I got to the campground. I asked the fellow in the check-in office if the sites are level and he said, “Ma’am, I have to be perfectly honest. They really aren’t it’s a challenge to get things level.” I didn’t want to hear this because, of all the things I left at home, it was my assortment of levelers. Keith followed me out to my site and we stood there looking at it.

“Wow…that has quite a grade, doesn’t it?” I said.

He allowed that it did. He brought me some scraps of wood he had salvaged from campers leaving them behind. I pulled further forward where the grade wasn’t quite as steep, and unhooked. I walked all around and finally realized, I did not have enough blocks with me to make up the difference because my stabilizing jacks wouldn’t reach the ground.

I drove back over and was about to buy a couple packages of levelers when Keith said he would look to see if there was another site. He had offered two others earlier but I just didn’t like them. They were small, crowded, and right on the road. Finally he came up with an available site and I drove around to look at it. It would be a little tricky backing into it, but it was long and level and faced way back in the woods. It was perfect.

I hooked back up and towed to the second site and got settled in. It made for a long day, but the results made me much more comfortable than the first site. Sometimes you have to listen to your gut. The only place for that trailer to go if the chocks gave way was down the side of the mountain. It is a perfectly good site for a motor home or something small like a popup tent camper…it just didn’t work for me.

Keith apologized for wasting three hours of my day. I explained that I am a writer and an educator. I’m an experienced camper. But there are lots of people out there who haven’t had any experience and want to learn. These kinds of experiences offer me opportunities to teach others and hopefully avoid unfortunate pitfalls. Those kinds of things can really dampen one’s joy toward a new activity, and I want you to have as much success as possible when you “Go Places and Do Things”!

❤️

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”
1 Peter 5:7 NIV

Waiting for Home

Sun, 20 Oct 2019 01:30:07 -0600

“The house I wanted for a B&B in Elkins…it always makes me wonder…what if?”

I’m not kidding when I say I spent just about every moment of the forty years I lived in Colorado waiting for the day I could move back home. Oh, there was a stretch of time when I was young and cocky and I thought I knew better than those “old fogeys” back home who were SO out of touch. Little did I know I would give my right arm to return to my roots one day.

I had the opportunity to come home when Hubby #1 and I split up, but I turned it down. My daughter was about three years old at the time, and I wanted her to have broader horizons than I had growing up so I elected to stay in Denver where I had no family support and a relatively small social circle.

When I was married to Hubby #2, there was some talk about going back home, but he is a Colorado boy, born and bred. You just don’t take them out of that climate and plop them down in humidity. I remember dreaming at night that if anything happened to him, I’d hightail it home as fast as I could.

Then, Mr. Virgo came along. He was my best bet to get back because he was born and raised in South Philly. But he had tried his whole life to get back to Colorado, which he adored, so I knew there was a very slim chance we’d actually move back to West Virginia. However, I did get him to discuss the possibilities of owning a B&B somewhere back here.

I’ll never forget those days when we would do internet searches for B&B’s for sale. We found a big house in the historic district of Parkersburg that was a real possibility. But the one I had my heart set on was actually here in Elkins, WV. It was right across the road from the back side of the Davis & Elkins campus. It had seven bedrooms and five full baths with a large commercial kitchen. I was in love!

Mr. Virgo? Not so much. This is where the wheat was separated from the chaff and I realized it was never gonna happen. He had put his roots down in Colorado and there would be no budging that man. Now, every time I am near here, I have to drive past “my B&B”. I have no idea who bought it. It doesn’t look as though it has been turned back into the B&B it was many years ago. When I see it, I am reminded that we don’t work on our time. We work on God’s time. And it wasn’t time for me to be here back then.

I do have an affinity for this little town though. Mostly because of the college and the Augusta Heritage Center which works to preserve the old timey ways of our ancestors. I was thrilled to spend the afternoon with “my people”…folks who obviously love their heritage as much as I do. I’ve seen some beautiful places on this trip already. But I think this stop has been my favorite so far. I just wish Mr. FixIt could have been with me. He would have enjoyed this so much.

❤️

“And you shall remember the whole way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not.”
Deuteronomy 8:2 ESV

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

Love Letters from Beyond

Fri, 27 Sep 2019 01:30:20 -0600

“Leaving love notes behind for your spouse to find later…what a gift!”

My friends and I camped at Beaver Creek State Park last night. We so seldom get together, just the three of us and when we do it’s always so special. It’s always tempting to stay up really late and sleep in the next day, but Janine and I both had long drives home. We called it a night fairly early and were up and ready for coffee by 8:00. We chatted over a leisurely breakfast and prayed for each other before we finally broke camp by 11:00. I pulled in to the Ponderosa around 4:00, dropped off the camper, and turned right around to go back to town for small group. I’m not signed up for this session, but I wanted to visit and share in the fellowship with dear friends from church.

I was seated by a new member of the group. Jonna is a widow of two years. I put my hand on her arm and told her how sorry I was for her loss. We chatted about the similarities and differences between people’s grief experiences. She knew ahead of time that her husband was dying and she was thrilled they had time to have important conversations, no matter how uncomfortable they were.

Just before our meeting started, she leaned over and lowered her voice a little.

“Wanna know the BEST part?”

I was intrigued. I had never thought about “the best part” of grief.

“Yes….please!”

“My husband hid love notes for me everywhere! I’ve found over twenty of them already!”

My heart melted. I remember finding a note Mr. Virgo had left me for Valentine’s day just a month before he died unexpectedly. I know how precious that is.

“I’m not going to go looking for them. If I find one, it’s a gift! I found one the other day in the file of Explanation of Benefits from the insurance!”

I leaned over to her and said, “I think that is just the sweetest thing!”

That’s a good man, right there. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what these little gifts would mean to the woman he had married thirty-eight years prior. Even when he was ill and in pain from the amputation of his leg, this gentle giant left his sweetheart love letters from beyond. Yes…that’s a very good man!

❤️

“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

Chasing the Sun!

Tue, 17 Sep 2019 01:30:53 -0600

“2020 RPod 196…taking her for a test run for the next four months!”

I’ve been trying to come up with a great name for my epic trip. I have decided I’ll be chasing the sun to stay warm as I travel further south so that’s just what I’ll call it. And yesterday was officially the very first day!!! And what a crazy day it was.

First, we had to pack up our hotel room. It is absolutely amazing what two people can accumulate in three short days! Once we were packed up, we headed to Advanced Auto Parts to buy a 2” ball for my hitch since that’s the size the RPod needs. I found one, but they didn’t have a wrench big enough to handle the job so I went across to the Goodyear store. They didn’t have a big enough tool either. So, rather than keep searching, I just went back to Advanced Auto and bought a new hitch at the correct size and we headed to Hershey Park to pick up the new camper.

When we arrived, our little camper was sitting all by herself at the end of the row. We hooked up and off we went. We had an easy, uneventful trip till we pulled into the field at the Ponderosa. I miscalculated a small incline and caught one of the scissor jacks and bent it. It’s no big deal, it didn’t hurt the camper at all…but it did hurt my pride because I knew better than to come in at that angle. We’ll just chalk it up to being overly tired because we were!

It was wonderful to see Mr. Fixit! He had a pan of my smoked ribs out of the freezer thawing and I popped them in the oven as soon as I walked in. We fiddled around with the campers a little here and there. Janine had a spill in hers from a jar of balsamic vinaigrette that fell out of the cabinet so she had quite a sticky mess to clean up. We were all really excited to dine al fresco on the deck by the pool.

And, just like that…the evening was over and Janine and I both retreated to separate rooms to do our writing while Mr. FixIt watched his evening shows. It was too hot to dry camp in the field without air conditioning so we went for comfort and slept indoors. Today we are driving down to Huntington to Setzer’s RV to get some fine tuning on the campers and I will get my official walk through to learn the inner workings of the RPod. I’m going to have to come up with a cute name for her! Any ideas?

❤️

“Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy.”
Proverbs 28:13 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

Forever 62...

Tue, 10 Sep 2019 01:30:19 -0600

“Mr. Virgo…Forever 62…and still handsome as ever.”

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Mr. Virgo. You would have been sixty-nine today. Would you have been retired by now? Would we have pulled that camper all over the country? Would our golf game be any better? It’s hard to say, but my guess is…we would have been out hitting some balls today.

My life is so different now…I do different things. I camp and write about it. I grieve and write about it. I got married again…and I write about it! Nothing is safe anymore…it’s all blog fodder. But in a good way.

I remember all the stages, all the phases, all the fear and pain and anger your loss caused me. I remember it all. At the same time, the edges are fuzzy. A little out of focus. The only words I can hear your voice say in my mind anymore is “I love you, baby doll.” I can picture your hands…your earlobes…your hair. It’s like I can see all the pieces of the puzzle but I cannot seem to piece them all together and put together a workable picture of you. Sometimes it’s frustrating. Sometimes its a Godsend.

As I always tell my readers, the pain of grief is always much, much worse when I’m tired. Sunday night, I could not get to sleep. And the longer it went on, the more focused I became on being away. I knew I’d be tired. And I knew the waves could hit any minutes, even if you never crossed my mind.

I finally drifted off for about 20 minutes and woke up freezing. I turned off the fan, threw a blanket over me, and went to sleep for…maybe a half hour. This time, I woke up overheated, sweating profusely, and anxious/nauseated/jittery. I finally got up, turned the fan back on, and got sick.

Grief.

Waves of seemingly unending grief have dwindled to the rare bad night. Sunday night was it. I hate disturbing Mr. FixIt if I’m jumping up and down all night so I moved to the guest room, took something for my upset stomach, and finally slipped into a sound sleep for four or five hours. This is the way it works now. The fact that I am happily married doesn’t seem to phase it. We never “get over it”….but we do learn how to hold our grief with soft hands so as to not wake up the beast.

It is your 69th. You are there with your mom and dad…and cousin-in-law Dennis…and now, your firstborn, Shannon. She has been with you for two years. I know you all are together and having a cigar on the back 9…watching the sunset.

I will always love you and remember you in so many ways. It’s funny how your shape in my life has changed over time. Each year you step a tiny bit further away. Your star shines a tiny bit less in my every day life…but you’re so much bigger in the grand moments. And still, every once it a while, a wave hits me and I have a bad night. Thank God, they are fewer and farther between.

So…

Happy Birthday, Mr. Virgo!

❤️

“So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”
John 16:22 ESV

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

Gathering Camping Supplies

Sat, 07 Sep 2019 01:30:24 -0600

“What a mess! Trying to organize and choose what I’m taking on my next Girl Camper Adventure!”

When I was forced to sell my sweet little camper when I was in Colorado, I had to unpack everything and put it all in tubs to store in the bed of my truck. I knew there would be things I would need for this trip and we have been so busy since we got home, so I just left the tubs in the family room. It didn’t make sense to haul it all downstairs to storage and then have to bring it all back upstairs.

I spent the day yesterday going through those tubs, choosing what I would need to take with me and deciding what could be left behind and put with the rest of the camping supplies in storage. It’s actually a little harder than I thought. I’ve never stepped foot in this camper, so the only visual I have to go by is the video Janine posted of the walk through with Cody from Forest River RV.

From what I remember, there’s not a lot of counter space in this camper. And, I won’t be spending a great deal of time at each spot. I think my biggest issue will be coffee. I hate taking a big coffeemaker because I’ll just be taking it out and putting it back every time. I think pour over is going to be the way to go. I love French press, but that has to be cleaned out every time. With a pour over, you throw your coffee grounds out with the filter the same as a drip coffee maker.

Mr. FixIt finished sealing the deck yesterday and it looks great! We need to cover TOW-Wanda Grande before I leave. That means I need to take everything out of her that I’ll need beforehand since it won’t be easy to get in and out with the cover. One of my very funny friends wrote on her facebook the other day:

I love how being an adult is basically just saying, “But after this week, things will slow down a bit,” to yourself until you die. ~ Lisa Cooke

So much truth in that. I can hardly wait till the Girl Campers gather the first week of October. I’ll have six days to sit and knit and talk with my peeps around the campfire. And do a craft project or two. Period. The Spring and Fall “What a Hoot” gatherings are my all time favorites. We all just bring food to share and make a big pot of soup. So easy and so much fun.

Progress is being made and I’m feeling a bit more organized today!

❤️

“But all things should be done decently and in order.”
1 Corinthians 14:40 ESV

Stitched with Love

Fri, 06 Sep 2019 01:30:17 -0600

“My friend’s comfort quilt is on its way. She’s had her first dose of chemo.”

My dear friend’s quilt is on its way out west. As I sat and hand stitched the binding, I listened to praise music for a bit, then I switched over to my daily devotional. My Bible app on my phone has a function where someone reads the Bible to you. That is especially handy for my Bible plan that I’m working on. It’s planned so that you read the entire Bible in a year. I’ve only read the Bible completely once. I read it from cover to cover…from Genesis to Revelations. That’s tough. You get stuck in all those begats and Kings and it’s difficult to keep from going cross eyed.

This plan reads a couple of chapters from the Old Testament and the New Testament. Then it reads some from Psalms and finishes with Proverbs. Every day. Once I got two weeks behind and swore I’d never do that again. Then over the weekend, I hit the two week behind mark again. Currently I’m only behind nine days. I have some catching up to do. Listening over the headphones accomplished two things…it helped me catch up a bit and it let me stitch the Word into my work. Then I prayed over the quilt and hugged it close and sent it off to my friend, hoping she feels the love and hugs and prayers put into each stitch.

I’m counting down the days for my trip now. We’ve all learned from experience just how fast a week can go by. It will be no time and I’ll be off to the Hershey RV Show. I’ll meet Janine there and we’ll work the show for two days. Then we’ll be off to Huntington, WV.

I’ve been researching stays for my trip and all the writing that is going to be involved with it. Lots of driving. Lots of photo editing. Plus another project that’s coming up very soon. PLUS my own writing here. That’s a ton of work. What I will have to do is share my trip writing here on some of the days. It will be extremely difficult (I think) to write the daily essays you and I have become accustomed to. Then again, writing on this blog has become my bedtime ritual and I may not be able to sleep until I write something here.

At any rate, you and I are about to embark on a VERY exciting journey filled with fun experiences and beautiful scenery. And sometimes we’ll still talk about grief. Because, you know…it’s what we do here. Grief and joy can exist at the same time.

❤️

“a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;”
Ecclesiastes 3:7 ESV

Soft Hands

Thu, 05 Sep 2019 01:30:37 -0600

“Hold people’s hearts softly…with open hands.”

I’ve learned to have soft hands in my relationships. I’m not talking about getting a mani or using the latest lotions and potions. I’m talking about holding my relationships softly. I’ve learned a lot about relationships over my life. I’ve certainly had enough of them. I used to be embarrassed to say Mr. FixIt is my fourth marriage. I mean, would it have been nice to celebrate my 50th Anniversary with the man I married in 1973? Well…if it WOULD have been nice, I’d still be married to him now, wouldn’t I? Same goes for the one I married in 1979.

When I married Mr. Virgo in 2007, I truly believed it was my last marriage and we would grow old together. Then 2013 happened, and that dream was shattered by his untimely death at the age of 62. I was only 59, but I swore I would never, ever get married again. “No one could ever measure up.” “My heart could never take that again.” “I’ve already used up three women’s quotas…I’m done.”

I had every reason in the book to never do this again…then Mr. FixIt came along and God granted me another chance at happiness. I’ve been able to use a lot of the lessons I learned in my first three marriages and use them in my new marriage…my LAST marriage.

I knew nothing when I married my first husband…as is true with most people, I suppose. We were so very young…I was only 19, he was 20. We argued…a lot. We had a baby straight away and we were separated before she was two. I learned a lot about what I didn’t want in that marriage.

Hubby #2 was my longest marriage…20 years. And the divorce was extremely painful. When I look back on that marriage, I realize I held onto my husband with tight fists. I was jealous of his coworkers. The nurses and medical staff, the female doctors…well, anyone really. I spent my entire relationship wondering when he would leave me for some talented, intelligent, good looking, young thing. I held on so tightly neither one of us could breathe and the relationship became toxic.

By the time Mr. Virgo came along, I was looking for what I DID want in a partner…not the other way around. I held him softly, but I held myself in an ironclad fist. My second marriage did not end by my choice, so I told myself I had to be the very best version of myself…the perfect wife…with Mr. Virgo or he might leave me, too. The marriage was much, much happier…don’t get me wrong. But it was a lot of work to try to be perfect all the time. In all honesty, I have no idea what might have come of that relationship had he not passed away. I can idealize it and say it was perfect, but no relationship is absolutely perfect. Really, really great is a glorious gift.

By the time Mr. FixIt came along, I was tired of being something…someONE…I was not. I knew if I ever had the opportunity to have another serious relationship and be married again, I was going to be a “what-you-see-is-what-you-get” kinda gal. Which works out really great because Mr. FixIt is a “what-you-see-is-what-you-get” kinda guy. I love our relationship because we aren’t guarded around each other. We’re easy with each other. We hold each other’s hearts, but with soft, open hands.

You see, what I finally learned…and trust me, I’m a slow learner…what I finally learned was this: If you hold your love’s heart in the soft, open palm of your hand and he flies away…he was not yours to begin with. And, without the tight grip of jealousy and fear of abandonment, the relationship can breathe and grow.

I never once questioned Mr. Virgo’s commitment to me, yet I still held a piece of my heart tightly in my clenched fists for fear he’d leave like the last one and break my heart. It never occurred to me it would be his death that would crush me. I don’t question Mr. FixIt’s commitment either, and I haven’t held anything back. It’s liberating. Can I get crushed again. Yes, of course. But death has taught me I can survive anything so I don’t live in fear anymore. I have soft hands. And that is a much more graceful way to live.

❤️

“Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.”
Philippians 4:5 NIV

The Other Side of Fear

Wed, 04 Sep 2019 01:30:51 -0600

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” Jack Canfield

I hear from a lot of widows who face fear as one of their most difficult symptoms of grief. Fear of the unknown…fear of being alone…fear of other people’s motives. Navigating grief is difficult enough on it’s own. Add fear, anxiety, and even full blown panic attacks and it ratchets grief up to an unbearable level.

I’ve always had a bit of an anxious nature. Anticipatory social anxiety. Commonly called “stage fright”. I’ve come a long way in learning to control it. Sometimes it bothers me. Sometimes it doesn’t. I’ve learned the things I most want to do lie on the other side of that fear, so I have to figure out ways to get through to the other side in order to find my bliss.

The fear I felt early on after losing Mr. Virgo was different than my usual pre-speech jitters. It was hold-onto-the-edge-of-the-mattress-all-night awful. Through trial and error, I’ve learned a lot of skills…tools for my tool box, so to speak. If I feel myself amping up, one of the things that almost immediately calms me down is listening to praise music. If I’m singing at the top of my lungs, its really difficult to be scared.

I’ve had so many people tell me they would really love to take off camping or traveling by themselves but they are too scared. The bottom line any grief mentor should take is honoring what others are and are not capable of. That being said, if it really is something you want to do, there are ways you can ease into scary situations without jumping in with both feet.

Finding a like-minded friend to do things with can help a lot when it comes to doing new things. Taking little baby steps helps, as well. If your dream is to take a month long trip to Europe but you have panic attacks going to the grocery store, you need to desensitize yourself. Start with little excursions. A short day trip. Repeat till you’re comfortable. Then an overnight, then two…you get the idea. Getting professional help can go a long way toward building your confidence and getting down to the root of the issues you face.

When I was planning the trip to Colorado, my biggest concerns were the social obligations of my daughter’s wedding and being so far away from Mr. FixIt. Losing Mr. Virgo so suddenly brings the possibility of a repeat to the forefront of my imagination. So, yeah…that makes me nervous. The night before the trip, my stomach was in knots but I did my routine and the next morning, I was good to go. It’s not the actual DOING that bothers me…it’s the anticipation. And, sometimes I just have to do the thing and feel the fear.

I’m really excited about the opportunity to take this new camper around. There’s nothing about it that scares me, per se. I may have pre-trip jitters the night before. I may not. Knowing what it is, knowing how to redirect my thinking, knowing just what I need to do helps me feel less out of control and more confident in my own abilities.

What I want is often on the other side of fear, but that’s exactly what makes the experience so much richer. I know exactly what I had to get through to get there and that makes me brave! After all…so far, I have survived every single experience I’ve encountered in my life!

❤️

“Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you."”
Deuteronomy 31:6 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

“...and I Will Give You Rest.”

Fri, 30 Aug 2019 01:30:09 -0600

“We can help broken people by touching base with a simple ? or ❤️…just to let them know you’re thinking of them.”

I have spoken with thousands of bereaved people in the last six plus years. I have heard story after story of loss and how their grief affects them. I have learned to keep healthy boundaries so that I don’t internalize the stories and let it affect my well being. This is something I learned in the beginning of my medical career and it’s a valuable tool.

We all experience loss and grief in our lives. It seems to me, the older I get, the more of it there is to deal with. Just after I graduated from high school, I had my first experience with death. My Pop-Pop died of a heart attack when he was 72. The next year, a couple of friends from high school died together from carbon monoxide poisoning. News would come here and there…a neighbor passed, the daughter of a friend, an accident here, old age there.

Losing my mom was really hard as it was fairly sudden and, well…it was my MOM. My dad died four years later but the impact wasn’t as great because we never had a close relationship. Then…Mr. Virgo died and death changed its timbre. Death hit close and it hit hard and it hit home. I remember feeling…broken.

And now, there are people who are close to me who are suffering terrible, tragic things and I feel as helpless as anyone else. I want to help them. I want to hold them and say magic words that make it better. And I know…there ARE no magic words. The only thing I can do is touch base with them. Pray for them. Perhaps send them gift cards for things like gas or a meal. Uber Eats and other food delivery services can help a lot in times like this.

If you are supporting someone whose world has been shattered by tragedy, there is one thing you have to remember to do and that’s take care of yourself. You can’t help anyone if you suffer your own burnout. It may seem selfish when people you love are in pain and you’re thinking of yourself. But believe me, it’s vitally important to practice self care.

With that in mind, I seriously wanted to sleep in my camper last night but for a number of reasons, I couldn’t. I’m going to make a concerted effort to get out there tonight and have some TOW-Wanda Time. That is where I physically find the most peace and rest. And…it’s where I spend an awful lot of quality quiet time with Jesus so trailer time is good for me.

I took the truck to the Ford dealer yesterday and spent about three hours working on my camping itinerary for the upcoming trip. I made some reservations. I also found the kind of trip planner I’ve been looking for on the Good Sams page. There are lots of planners out there, but I was looking for one that lets me add and change stops and look for camping spots at the the same time. There are a lot of things to juggle with this trip.

I’m trying to focus on West Virginia while it is still warm enough to camp here. When it gets colder, I’ll follow the colors south. I found a map online that predicts when the colors will be at their peak in different areas. I think that will be helpful in my planning. The truck is in tip top shape. It has new tires. The mechanic said the brakes are barely worn and there are no leaks…the underside is really clean.

Now I need to go through the items I brought back from Colorado that were in my camper so I can figure out what I need to take and what can be put away. I leave two weeks from today. With all that’s going on with my loved ones, it’s hard to get excited about the trip. But, as one of my dearest friends told me earlier this week, my stories will be a distraction for her as she goes through her valley. I do hope they help.

❤️

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Matthew 11:28 NIV

GRIEF + TIME = grief

Thu, 29 Aug 2019 01:30:48 -0600

“Grief is a process that varies from person to person…but there are some general similarities.”

The other day I read a Tweet that stopped me in my tracks. A woman said she had cut her two best friends completely out of her life because in the entire year after her niece died, neither one of them bothered to check in with her. Her comment came after someone checked in…a full two years after her tragic loss. He texted her with a very simple message…

“I’m just checking in to see how you are coping after the death of your niece.”

Simple. To the point. And, so welcomed it brought her to tears.

It prompted me to reflect. When was the last time I checked in with my friends who have lost loved ones? I get so wrapped up in my “work”, my “ministry”, with the bereaved, I forget to reach out and connect myself sometimes.

Last night I spent a good two hours writing quick texts to several of my peeps who had lost someone significant in the last couple of years. I heard back from them and the response was universal…”You have no idea what it means to have someone remember to ask how I’m doing!” “Thank you SO much for checking in…it means so much to me!” “My own kids don’t even want to listen!”

It’s true…once a “reasonable amount of time” passes, people move on with their lives. And, unless they have been bereaved, they may not understand that you haven’t. I remember how I felt abandoned. Like no one cared anymore. That isn’t true, of course. They just don’t have a point of reference for the depth of your pain and…it would scare the crap out of them if they believed that depth of pain could possible last more than a few months.

There is no way to compare your own experience with that of another. Your grief is different than my grief. And it doesn’t matter how your person died…your grief is the worst grief ever because it is your own. But truly, I’m here to tell you, there is some grief that I cannot begin to imagine. Like the mother whose son was murdered by terrorists and left to die on the roadside. Or the mother whose daughter was found dead three days after a heroin overdose. Or the wife who returned from the grocery store to find her husband dead on the back porch from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

There are so many stories in the work that I do. It breaks my heart into little pieces. And, it makes me think, “If he had to die, at least it wasn’t like that!” I find myself feeling grateful it was “only a heart attack.” I didn’t have to watch him slowly fade away from the ravages of cancer.

As I talked to my friend whose son was killed a little over a year ago, I thought back over the years since Mr. Virgo died. And, while there isn’t some neat and tidy delineation from year to year, there is some general sense of first, second, third, etc.

The first year is such a fog. You are numb. You are just trying to get the next thing done, the next paper filed, the next account closed. Closet? Check. Accounts? Check. Cellphone? Check. The first year becomes a blur…a cross between busy and madness.

The second year can be surprisingly rough…like you are standing in high tide during a storm surge. Your footing shifts like the sand beneath you in the ocean. Each wave hitting you blindly, knocking you beneath the surface. And…you can’t swim. Not even close.

At some point along the way…you hear it. A little snippet of music. A little bubble of laughter. A little glimmer of color peeking through a stormy sky. And that’s when the tides begin to shift a little. The waves not quite so hard. Or…maybe we’ve become better swimmers.

For me, the third year gave me a little breathing room. It was a period of exploration and self-discovery. A time of reaching out and stretching beyond my past and stepping a bit more boldly into the future.

The fourth, and beyond, found me building a boat to carry me over the waves till the next storm comes.

I listened intently to my friend sharing her grief. I asked questions. I resisted the urge to share my experiences except to say the occasional “Yes! I get that…I felt that, too!” It was amazingly comforting to me when I found others shared some of the same things I was experiencing. At some point in our conversation, she asked…

”How is your life?”

“I feel bad sharing how wonderful my life is when yours sucks so terribly,” I said.

“No…don’t ever feel bad about that! Your story gives me hope!”

And that…in a nutshell…is what keeps me going. It keeps me telling stories…even when you hurt…even when I hurt. Because life keeps going on around us whether our sense of time has stopped or whether death has taken the joy from our hearts. I write about Jesus and faith. I write about grief. I write about pain. I write about love and joy and rocking babies. I write about travel, and camping, and becoming strong. I write about farms and mowing and fried green tomatoes. I write about life and all it’s little bits…both good and bad.

But mostly…I write about hope.

❤️

“You are my refuge and my shield; your word is my source of hope.”
Psalms 119:114 NLT

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

Hamster Power

Tue, 27 Aug 2019 01:30:09 -0600

“When your internet is powered by hamsters, you need to find alternatives.”

Internet service is spotty when you live in the boonies. So is cell phone service. And, if you live WAY out in the boonies, the only way you can even USE a cellphone is if it is a iPhone and connected to the wonky country internet. It’s a Catch 22.

I finally bought an internet “booster”. It doesn’t make your internet any faster or less fluctuating, but it does allow what crappy internet service you DO have to reach down the hall to the bedroom. I’m been known to talk like a sailor when I’m trying to meet a deadline working from home.

The other night, Mr. FixIt was reading in bed beside me when he turned and looked at me over his glasses.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m sending a picture!” I was holding my cellphone high over my head and waving it back and forth…willing the little waves to work faster or whatever they do in the ether sphere.

“You look lovely, though.”

“Thanks a lot, buddy!” I smiled over at him as he shook his head and went back to his article.

I got an e-mail over the weekend to send pictures from several Girl Camper gatherings to headquarters. I carefully went through all the pictures, divided them up over four e-mails, and sent them on. The next morning there were four notices that none of the e-mails went through. These were crucial so I went to town yesterday and sat at the library and e-mailed the photos, five per e-mail. It still took three hours but I got them done.

For the most part, there are so many advantages to living in the country. The peace and quiet, the surrounding nature, the beautiful night sounds and all the stars. But, 95% of my work needs good internet. I had to go to town anyway yesterday. Next time, I’ll try our little local library and see if their internet is any better than ours.

Speaking of living in the country, I went out to the farm on Sunday and was pleased to see the wild grape vines I cut in half died. The house is no longer being threatened to be overgrown and swallowed by the surrounding flora. The fellow down the road who is mowing for me is doing a wonderful job. The lawn looks like a well-trimmed golf course.

This is the great time of year when the grass growth slows down tremendously and we don’t have to mow twice a week. The trees are beginning to show twinges of color and the leaves are fading to a dull army green. The temperature the last few nights was in the 50’s which makes for great sleeping weather. I’m gathering what I will need to carry with me in the new camper on the big trip coming up. Just a little over two weeks till I leave for the Hershey RV Show!

❤️

“Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens. He never changes or casts a shifting shadow.”
James 1:17 NLT

A Thousand Dragonflies

Mon, 26 Aug 2019 01:30:31 -0600

“The dragonflies are prolific this year!”

I love dragonflies. They serve a good purpose by eating mosquitos and other flying insects and they don’t bite humans! I am charmed by them. They will light on your finger or your shoulder. They hover around you as if to keep you company or to satisfy their curiosity. The other day I was leaving the doctor’s office and one flew alongside my window for at least a quarter mile. They make me smile.

Mr. FixIt and I were out cleaning the pool on Saturday and there was a dragonfly floating dead in the water. We both remarked how many more dragonflies there are the last couple of years. I did some research and found it’s because of all the rain we’ve been getting. With more rain comes more mosquitoes and consequently, the predators are in hot pursuit.

Somehow, I missed a big spot when I was mowing Saturday so I went out after church yesterday to finish up. I sat at the edge of the field in awe at the number of dragonflies hovering around me. From the website, Dragonfly Transitions, comes this: “In almost every part of the world, the Dragonfly symbolizes change, transformation, adaptability, and self-realization. The change that is often referred to has its source in mental and emotional maturity and understanding the deeper meaning of life.”

Change. Transformation. Adaptability. Self-Realization. If that doesn’t describe my life, I don’t know what does. This year has been, and continues to be one of remarkable opportunities…for travel, for growth, for learning…for becoming MORE. I love this, because the moment we stop growing, we die. Maybe not literally…but figuratively. A stagnant life is a fate worse than death for me.

I’ve said several times in the last week that I’ve been thinking a lot of my mom. I’ve been really missing her…more so than usual. As I was working with my calendar last night, I noticed today’s date. August 26th. My mom’s birthday. She’s been gone fifteen years now. She would have been 93 today. She died six weeks before her first great grandchild was born. As I sat rocking my second great grandchild in church yesterday, I thought of my mom and how much she loved children. She worked in the YWCA Daycare program and was the resident Grandma to hundreds of little ones. You couldn’t see her at work without some little person sitting on her lap at her desk.

I was thinking it would be great to relate Mom to the appearance of the dragonflies…for the purposes of this essay, at least. But, I have no idea if she loved dragonflies. She probably did. I do know she loved the color purple…and roses, books, peaches, piccalilli, tchotchkes, helping people, and genealogy. She loved her grandchildren. And she was totally devoted to my brother who has cerebral palsy.

No…we have dragonflies because it’s been a rainy year. And, I miss my mom so much because today’s her birthday. Two unrelated events, but yet both are symbolic of transformation and adaptability.

Here’s to Wanda Belle…an amazing and humble woman. Everyone who knew her, loved her and misses her. Happy Heavenly Birthday, Mama!

❤️

“So you have sorrow now, but I will see you again; then you will rejoice, and no one can rob you of that joy.”
John 16:22 NLT

Freda the Ford Got New Shoes!

Fri, 23 Aug 2019 01:30:25 -0600

“New tires for the truck! Getting ready for the next Grand Adventure!”

I’ve been putting off getting new tires for my truck, but with a five month epic camping trip coming up, I couldn’t wait any longer. Mr. FixIt scoured the internet and found a good set of Michelin tires through Walmart. You pretty much have to order tires and wait for them anymore. Not that many places carry a big inventory.

We went out for supper after I finished with the tire ordeal (three and a half hours for a predicted one and a half hour wait). When we came out of the restaurant, we decided to take my truck for a spin on the interstate so we could feel and make sure the tires were balanced correctly. And…we had to go to Sam’s.

One of my readers sent a message asking me which exact mattress we purchased (a Queen Size Sealy “Mattress-to-Go” 12” Luxury Memory Foam Mattress) so I went on the Sam’s app to copy the link. And what did I find? The same mattress we paid $499 for, and was delivered to the house the day before, was now $100 cheaper! We discussed it over dinner and decided to go back to Sam’s and complain.

The little gal at the customer service desk was so sweet, but she couldn’t really help us because we ordered the mattress via the .com route and their numbers/system is different than the club’s. She gave me the phone number for the .com people and after being on hold for-ev-er, I was connected to the “Sealy People”. I explained to Gina, the very helpful agent, that I probably wouldn’t say a thing if the mattress was $20 cheaper the next day, but $100 is a little bit hard to swallow.

You know what she did? She said, “I can totally understand. Let me fix that.” I heard the tap-tap-tap of a keyboard in the background. “There! I credited your account the $100. Well, $100 plus tax. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Are you kidding? It was that easy! I said, “No. But I have to tell you…you made my day!” Kudos to Gina in Customer Service at Sam’s Club. She rocks!

When we went back out to the truck, I saw something on my front tire. I went in for a close look and there were little areas that looked like the tread was separating from the tire. Neither Mr. FixIt nor I have ever seen something like that, so now I have to take the truck back in this morning and have the tire folks at Walmart have a peek at the tires. It’s always something, isn’t it?

This afternoon I have an appointment at the Ford dealer to have them go over the truck and make sure there’s nothing lurking in the background that needs fixed. I have to give my Ford dealer kudos, as well. They never try to push something unnecessary on me. As a matter of fact, when I had them do this last year, they didn’t even charge me. I love those guys!

I’m getting all my ducks in a row so when I head out on the next Grand Adventure, I’ll be confident and secure in my towing equipment. When women travel alone, they should do all their homework ahead of time so there isn’t a crazy rush at the end. I’ve learned this from entirely too much experience, I’m afraid. This is getting exciting!

❤️

“The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and pay the penalty.”
Proverbs 22:3 NIV

I Miss My Camper!

Thu, 22 Aug 2019 01:30:52 -0600

“It’s amazing how a queen size mattress fits in there.”

I’m missing my camper. I still have Big TOW-Wanda, but she’s not equipped to camp in right now. I removed her shades as soon as I bought her and they were stored at the farm. At the beginning of summer, I was seriously considering selling her because I had the little camper. I brought the shade back from the farm and they are on the floor, the bed isn’t made, and it’s too hot to sleep out there unless the AC is running. Every time I try to turn on the AC with the camper connected to the house, it trips the circuit. Now that Little TOW-Wanda is gone, I’m having second thoughts about selling the big camper. It would be really nice to have a seasonal site on the river and she would be perfect for that.

So, we have been sleeping in the house. We got really spoiled by the memory foam mattress in the little camper. It’s honestly the best sleep we’ve both had because we toss and turn a lot at night. The old mattress we have in the house shakes like crazy every time one of us rolls over. Not so with memory foam. You could drop a bowling ball on one side and not wake the other person. We managed to salvage the mattress out of the little camper before I sold it in Colorado, but we couldn’t figure out a way to get it and everything else home. We decided to give it to Ben & Sue and put it in their guest bedroom.

We finally decided to give in and buy a mattress just like the one in the little camper. We had to do some sleuthing, but we finally found the same mattress by Serta for sale at Sam’s Club. After several trips to our local Sam’s, we never found the queen size in stock so we ordered it online and it arrived yesterday.

I don’t know if you have ever seen how these mattresses are shipped or not. They come vacuum packed and rolled up tightly, wrapped in heavy plastic, and shipped in a box. And, they are heavy! I managed to get the old mattress off the bed and when Mr. FixIt got home, we unpacked the new mattress and placed it on the box springs. We unwrapped it, unrolled it, and took the protective vacuum bag off. Like magic it went from a compressed three inch thick mat to a perfect twelve inch thick mattress in a matter of minutes! It was astonishing!

Now that we have a memory foam mattress inside, will we ever sleep outside in the field in a camper again? Oh, you can bet your boots we will. We’ll just have to wait till it gets cooler. And, it won’t be too long till we can pick up the new camper at the RV show and it will be a moot point anyway. Lots of camping adventures are in the works. I’ve started making and strategizing! In the meantime, I am determined to sleep like a baby on this wonderful new mattress!

❤️

“Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping.”
Matthew 8:24 NIV

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 Metamorphosis of Grief

Thu, 15 Aug 2019 01:30:57 -0600

“The Farm. Clockwise from top left: Drying the laundry on the front porch is a country thing, Elderberries, A Rose of Sharon appeared from nowhere, Life is Simple, An Appalachian Pour Over, Blue granite pan used for dipping water out of the rain barrel.

Living in the country, you see many examples of metamorphosis. Where there once was a hairy caterpillar, there becomes a moth. Where there once was a striped green worm with a spiky tail, noshing on a milkweed leaf, there becomes a monarch butterfly. Where there once was a grub with legs, crawling up a tree and developing a hard shell, it soon splits and a locust emerges to call in the autumn season…signaling it’s time for school to start.

Just as there is a time for everything in its season, so it is with grief. I was thinking about this yesterday while I was trimming back the wild grape vines threatening to overtake the farm. When this blog began, I was fresh in my grief. I promised you then I would be honest and speak to you from my heart about exactly what it was like…at least for me…to go through the loss of my husband. There were times when it was so painfully ugly that it had to be difficult to read. Yet, so many of you have been here from the very beginning.

This blog goes through a metamorphosis every time something changes in my life. What started out as a method of pouring out my pain, morphed into learning how to navigate that. It changed and grew just as I changed and grew. It’s not just a grief blog, although there are hundreds of posts in the archives about grief. There was a time, when my grief had subsided to a nagging undercurrent, when I thought maybe I should just quit and make it all about grief. Just leave it there. But I couldn’t stop writing.

Writing became a part of me…as much a part of me as my hands and feet, my heart and lungs. So I decided to take you with me when I traveled, when I stepped into the dating arena, when I got married. I thought…ok, maybe I’m done now. Maybe I’ll just stop here. But, I kept living…and each new day brought a new experience, a new insight, and new lesson. And it became my devotional.

In a good cake recipe, bland ingredients like flour get mixed with sweet ingredients like sugar and butter. If baked with nothing else added, you wouldn’t have cake…you’d have some hard, flat, dry cardboard. But add eggs and leavening….take your time….and mix it well….and it rises high and beautiful. My life…my stories…my experiences are the flour and sugar. The scripture at the bottom of each post…illustrating my thinking in that particular moment…that’s the leavening. The eggs. The ingredient that makes the finished product perfect.

I know it’s not a grief blog so much anymore, even though I touch on the topic from time to time. That’s the nature of metamorphosis. Things are always changing…even grief. The numbing pain of the first year, the sharp pain of the second year, the personal growth of my third year, the stretching of my wings in the fourth, the explorations of the fifth, and finally…being remarried in the sixth…my grief has gone through its own metamorphosis and has settled into an undercurrent. A background noise that I have become accustomed to, yet it’s still very much there.

❤️

“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.”
2 Corinthians 3:18 ESV

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

A Vivid Imagination

Tue, 13 Aug 2019 01:30:30 -0600

“The moment I saw this, I knew it was the answer to my dream!”

I was probably about ten years old when I got my first (and only) childhood bike for Christmas. I remember lusting after the sleek English racers I saw some of the bigger kids riding. Oooooo, the idea of all those gears and the trendy dropped handlebars and the hand brakes…I could just picture myself tooling around the world, peddling that bike, looking ever so sporty and sophisticated. I had a vivid imagination!

Christmas morning came. I jumped up out of bed in my worn and tattered flannel jammies, and ran to the living room. There, leaning on its kickstand in the middle of the living room, was a brand new shiny blue bicycle! It wasn’t an English racer. It didn’t have any bells and whistles. It was a heavy, single speed monstrosity from Sears with the label “J. C. Higgins”. It was a sturdy, reliable bike and it didn’t take me long to figure out Mom couldn’t afford that trendy bicycle. I was darned lucky to have this one and not some hand-me-down from one of my cousins.

I used to ride that bike all over the neighborhood. The following summer was the first time Mom let us stay home unsupervised. I played outside from first thing in the morning till I needed to be in to start supper before my folks got home from work. I remember having this intense fantasy of riding my bicycle to Canada. I envisioned panniers on the back…before I even knew what panniers were. I pictured what I would pack in there. I had read The Boxcar Children a dozen times so I knew just what I would need to survive on my own.

In my ten-year-old brain, I had it all figured out. I would need money to survive so I would need to either get a job or sell something. The Christmas Wishbook from Sears arrived that fall and I ran to my room with it to figure out how I was going to raise funds for this epic adventure. And there it was! A snow-cone maker!!! My friends and I LOVED snow-cones! I figured if I had one of these babies, I could set up a stand out in front of the house and blow all those Lemonade Stands out of the water. I mean…who could resist a great snow-cone on a hot summer day, right???

I look back at my youthful exuberance and my little girl naïveté and smile. I was sure I would sell a gazillion snow-cones from this cute little plastic gizmo. Just as sure as I would ride my bike to Canada. Well, I never rode my bike to Canada. I didn’t get the snow-cone maker. But I’ve been on lots of adventures. And, I’ve done things I never thought I could do. And now…I’m going to get to have another GRAND adventure and they’re handing me the camper to do it in!

Believe me…I know how blessed I am to get this opportunity. Between now and the middle of September when I pick it up, I need to plan out an epic road trip. I’m thinking it would be really awesome to combine this with several Meet & Greets and get a chance to meet you wonderful “Ranchers” along the way! I’m just in the formulating stage but I’m thinking this could turn out to be….

Ginny McKinney’s R-Pod-196 Adventure!

Stay tuned to Marshmallow Ranch for details as plans fall into place!!!

❤️

“For nothing will be impossible with God."”
Luke 1:37 ESV

Mother Earth..How Does Your Garden Grow?

Sat, 10 Aug 2019 01:30:23 -0600

“Product of our burn pile, aka pumpkin patch.”

Back when I was a wanna-be hippy mama in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, I was an urban farmer. Before urban farming was a thing. I had dug and turned over a garden patch at every house we rented while Hubby #2 was in medical school and residency. We were poor as church mice and we needed to put as much free food as we could on the table to make our meager budget stretch as far as it could.

I was dismayed at the fact Colorado has such a short growing season. With Denver being literally a mile high, compared to the relative low elevation of West Virginia, I longed for a farm of my own in my home state. I remembered my dad’s gardens. We rented the lot behind us and put in a huge vegetable garden every summer. My grandma not only had a “truck garden” across the creek…their farm also produced strawberries for the local farmer’s market. I was spoiled by the earth of my youth.

West Virginia soil runs from really sandy to heavy red clay mud. If you’re lucky, you find great gardening soil that’s rich and loamy and needs nothing more than a good tilling to prepare the perfect garden. You can get all scientific and test the soil and add lime or ash to adjust the pH but mostly anyone with any gardening skill at all can turn out some pretty impressive vegetables in a fairly small space.

When we were married last October, Mr. FixIt burned a lot of brush on our burn pile out in the field. We used pumpkins as a cheap wedding decor, then used them in turn to decorate for Halloween. Once they were frostbit, Mr. FixIt tossed them in the burn pile along with whatever else was in there. He figured once spring came, he’d clean out the flower beds and trim bushes then burn it all at once.

Winter came and went and when the first signs of spring hit the Ponderosa and the weekly mowing commenced, lo and behold…pumpkin vines popped up all around the burn pile! I was really excited to do a walkabout when we got home this week and see how the pumpkins fared while we were gone. There must be a dozen pumpkins growing out there. White ones. Dark orange. Light orange. Short and flat. Big and round. All kinds of pumpkins. And we didn’t have to DO anything…just throw pumpkins out there and they grew!

This is the stuff of my dreams….getting something from literally nothing. If we would have been here while they were growing, I would have nipped off all but one or two on each vine so the plant’s energy could have forced bigger pumpkins, but as it is, they are certainly a respectable size for decorating. And, maybe they’ll make some pies.

Our tomato vines did not stay tied up on the supports Mr. FixIt set out. They are all laying down on the grown and consequently, many of the tomatoes have touched the ground which makes them rot. But there are enough to eat and that’s all we care about. We missed all but the earliest summer squash. There are vegetable stands all around this area so I had Mr. FixIt stop and get some fresh sweet corn and a cantaloupe on his way home yesterday. We’ll eat like royalty tonight!

❤️

“So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose, and they will each be rewarded according to their own labor. For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building.”
1 Corinthians 3:7-9 NIV

The DMV & Me

Fri, 09 Aug 2019 01:30:34 -0600

“Take my advice…bring chocolate next time you go to the DMV!”

How many vacations have you ridden along with me…vicariously? If you’ve been around very long, you’ll know I don’t do very well with “re-entry”. I’ve never just come home and smoothly transition into laundry and cooking and doing the everyday mundane things. And, it seems the older I get, the more difficult it is to come down off the high of a really good trip. And this one was a REALLY good one.

There were a few little bobbles along the way. The whole camper fiasco was a pain in the caboose but I turned it into a teaching moment. Then I lost my driver’s license. I know I had it at the Quick Care when I had the stress hives. But they swear it wasn’t left there. I called the pharmacy to see if maybe I left it there but they said it wasn’t there either. The DMV told me to print off a copy of my driving record to at least prove to a police officer that I have a valid license and I’m trying to fix it. Our whole camping vacation itinerary had to be changed, but that all turned out to be fine.

The first thing that had to be done yesterday was go to the DMV. Well…the FIRST thing I did was go pick up the mail to see if anyone had found it and mailed me my license. Nope. Then I went to the county building and got a copy of my birth certificate and marriage license in case I needed it at the DMV. I had my Social Security card and a vehicle registration with me. I have the Federal ID on my Driver’s License. I had to show a gazillion kinds of ID to get that. I thought SURELY I wouldn’t need a gazillion MORE kinds of ID to let them know I’m the same person with all the OTHER kinds of ID. HA! I was SO wrong!

I stood in the little pre-line line to let the clerk know what I needed. She looked at what I had. Nope. Not good enough. I needed a bill with my name and address on it. Ok, I had my health insurance bill. I handed that to her. Nope. They can’t accept health insurance. I had my taxes. Nope. Can’t accept federal taxes. OK, I said…what do you need? She underlined all the acceptable forms of identification. I went out to the truck and brought back a second registration for a different vehicle. Nope. Can’t come from the same source. Grrrrr.

So, I drove all the way across town and went to my car insurance agent’s office. I changed my address on my insurance and had them print out an insurance card for me. I drove back across town and stood in the pre-line again. Ok…we’re making progress. I got a number! I sat. And sat. And sat. Finally, my number was called and I ran up to the window with a huge smile.

“Identification, please.”

“Here you go! A registration and my car insurance…both with my name and address!” I smiled. They aren’t going to beat me this time!

The clerk looked over my papers and said, “I’m sorry, I can’t accept this. The address on the insurance card doesn’t match the one on the car registration.”

“What?!?!?!”

She quietly starts tapping on the keyboard and read, taps and reads, taps and reads.

“What is your husband’s name?”

I told her.

“And what is his birthdate?”

I told her.

“And you got your marriage license in this county?”

“Yes, we did.”

“Hmmmmm…I can’t find him.”

Be calm. Be calm. Be calm.

They’ve added a large copy of the law, highlighted, that says what the punishment is for disruptive behavior in the DMV. It’s pasted everywhere.

I looked over at the different styles of license plates you can order. And there…on number six…was a bluebird. I could almost hear Mr. Virgo say “Go easy, baby doll.” I thought of Mr. FixIt and how nothing seems to ruffle his feathers. And my shoulders relaxed.

“This must be a difficult job sometimes,” I said to the clerk.

“Oh, it’s not so bad.” She smiled as she continued to type and read.

Finally, I picked up the insurance card. The bottom half was kind of faded where the cartridge was running out of toner. Sure enough, under “Name and address of owner”, there was a typo in the name of the street. But, above that, under “Name and address of insured”, the address was correct. And clearly darker!

“Oh, look! It DOES have the name spelled right on this line! See? The other one is just so light from the printer, it’s hard to read. See the dark one here???”

It worked! My diversionary tactic to take the focus off the wrong one and place it on the right one clearly saved the day!

“Oh, my gosh! It must be my glasses! That IS right!” She took my money and quickly handed my number back to me. “You only have one person in front of you so it should take long now!” She smiled sweetly at me.

Right.

I was there another hour before they took my picture for my new license. And now I have to look at that tired, sweaty, grumpy picture for the next however many years. Or until I lose THIS license. Whichever comes first.

The bottom line is this…these people are just doing their jobs. They don’t make up the rules. They aren’t there to make your life miserable. They just want to earn a buck and go home and put their feet up. So, next time you have to go to the dreaded DMV, bring a smile. Some chocolate for the nice person behind the counter couldn’t hurt either. Maybe I would have gotten out of there quicker if I’d brought a little Hershey’s with me!

❤️

“Now swear to me here before God that you will not deal falsely with me or my children or my descendants. Show to me and the country where you now reside as a foreigner the same kindness I have shown to you.””
Genesis 21:23 NIV

Making Our Way Back Home

Tue, 06 Aug 2019 01:30:16 -0600

“Truckin’ across Nebraska”

Yesterday was a challenge. First, I was still so wound up from the wedding and the super long drive home, I couldn’t settle down and was still awake at 4:00 in the morning. We woke up at 7:00 and had to try to fit all the stuff from the camper into the bed of the truck and still make sure the tonneau cover would close. We finally made all but a couple things fit and were finished at 10:30. We waited till Ben got home so we could say our goodbyes and finally hit the road at about 11:00.

I drove all day and we pulled into York, Nebraska…just shy of Lincoln…at about 7:30. We marveled at how green everything is. I have never traveled I-80 as my route between Colorado and West Virginia, but there are major closures on I-70 in St. Louis and Kansas City for construction. We were going to stop in Kearney, NE but they had nine inches of rain on July 8th and all the hotels and restaurants were flooded. There are only about 3 or 4 hotels open and they were either full or pricey. So we drove on.

The flooding certainly explains why everything is so green here. The mountains of Colorado were the same way and that is good news for the communities who worry about forest fires. It’s not good news here in Nebraska. The farmers here have had a hard time getting crops in the ground…especially wheat. There’s corn to beat the band but not all of it has tasseled yet.

It was interesting watching the crop dusters all along the highway. I’ve only seen them once in my life and they were everywhere! I’m not sure what they were spraying and I certainly hope it doesn’t harm the honeybees!

Today, we keep on truckin’!

❤️

“Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.”
Psalm 119:105 NIV

Full Up to Here!

Mon, 05 Aug 2019 01:30:46 -0600

“Sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic up to Eisenhower Tunnel”

When I first moved to Colorado, Denver was a cow town compared to what it is today. In 1975, the Denver Metro Area consisted of approximately 650,000 people from what I can deduce for a graph I found. The population now is over 3,000,000! And it’s not just the Denver Metro Area. The states population has grown steadily….every single year. It’s crazy!

When I moved to Glenwood Springs in 1986, there were two stop lights in the entire town. If it took us five minutes to get across town we thought we were in some terrible traffic jam. Now, it doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, traffic everywhere is bumper to bumper.

We left Montrose yesterday morning at 10:30. It took us eight full hours to drive 263 miles to Denver! Clear roads. A little rain around Eagle. The majority of the time spent driving was between Silverthorne and Idaho Springs. The Eisenhower Tunnel is a huge bottleneck and as soon as the toll lane starts around Idaho Springs, things loosened up and we made good time.

I thought it was exacerbated by the fact I have lived in the country for the last five years, but everyone here comments on it. And I have to tell you, I have never in my life walked into a Walmart or a mall…anywhere…and had the thought of a mass shooting go through my mind. But last night, we stopped at Walmart on our way to Ben & Sue’s house, and that’s the first thing that came to my mind.

“What is that crowd doing hanging around the front entrance?”

“Is there going to be trouble here?”

“Where is the nearest exit?”

I hate that. I hate that chill that went up my spine. I hate that I looked in the faces of those around me and wondered what they were capable of. Then I found myself in the cereal aisle and I heard Mr. FixIt’s friendly banter. He can (and does) speak to anyone.

“You only came in for two items? Well…you’ve sure gone over on this trip, huh?”

I turned to find a Hispanic woman smiling shyly at him.

“Yes…it happens all the time!”

I looked in her face and saw kindness and a slight self-deprecation at her inability to stick to a shopping list. And, what I saw was no different than me.

I smiled warmly at her and said, “Oh, I do that, too! What’s worse is when I come home and don’t have half of what I came in for in the first place!”

This was a welcome moment in an otherwise horrifying set of current events. I am devastated. I am outraged. And, I will do what I can and not just send thoughts and prayers, although those are flowing fervently. My heart is broken for the victims of yet more violence.

We pack up the truck this morning and say goodbye to to our Colorado peeps and hit the road for West Virginia. Please keep us in your prayers for travel mercies but more importantly, pray for those innocents who were just going about their day.

❤️

“Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, “Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you.””
Isaiah 35:3-4 NIV

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

Morning Visitors

Thu, 01 Aug 2019 01:30:06 -0600

“Morning visitors on Loghill.”

Yesterday was my ME day. I told Linda when we arrived that honestly all I was looking for was her company and a little R&R. We’ve been running around like crazy and I just needed to sit and visit on their beautiful deck overlooking these amazing mountains. I knitted and we all laughed and had a wonderful time. We couldn’t believe it when it was 1:00 and we hadn’t done a thing.

We were sitting on the the deck and heard something down below. I went and peeked over the edge and there were turkeys walking through the gravel drive below. These guys were huge. We’ve seen a lot of deer….even a little spotty baby bounding around. The first night, I woke up about 2:30 in the morning and wanted a little nosh. There was nothing in the camper, so I needed to go in the house. As I was climbing out of the bed, Mr. FixIt woke up.

Him: “Where are you going?”

Me: “I need some cereal.”

Him:

Me: “Do you think there might be bears out there?”

Him: “There could be.”

Me:

Me: “I’m not going.”

Him: “Ok.”

Me:

Me: “Drat! I’m hungry…I’m going.”

coyote howling outside camper

Me: “Come after me if I’m not back in five minutes!”

Him: zzzzzzz

Last night, I brought my cereal with me in the first place. There be beasts about!

❤️

“...who teaches us more than he teaches the beasts of the earth and makes us wiser than the birds in the sky?’”
Job 35:10-11 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

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

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

One Small Step

Sun, 21 Jul 2019 01:30:08 -0600

“One small step…”

It was a sultry summer night…Sunday, July 20, 1969. We had been watching the news over the previous week or so about the astronauts that were going to walk on the moon. I was all of sixteen…that magical age where you’re caught somewhere between Barbies and boys. We didn’t have screens on the windows but it was too hot to leave them closed. We absentmindedly swatted away the mosquitoes as we ate ice cream and stared at the flickering grey screen.

Hippies were preparing for Woodstock. Giggling teenagers were having slumber parties. We were rolling our hair on juice cans and wearing bellbottomed jeans. We popped our gum and knew all about Archie and Veronica’s exploits. Dad would complain about the “yippies” next door playing their drums too loud and the cars that went too fast up our dirt street. A couple of times a week, a Jeep would drive up the road spraying DDT into the neighborhood to keep the mosquito population down to a reasonable level. And once a month or so, a different truck would come and spray oil or tar down on the dusty dirt. The first day out after they sprayed, our bare feet would be covered with a half inch think glob of sandy tar turning our soles into…well, soles.

It was the summer of love. My foster sister was going to school all summer in Athens to get a certificate for preschool education. She wrote me long letters and on the back of each envelope she drew a picture of a bunny and wrote “God Bless Pink Summers ‘69” in an arc above its head. The war in Vietnam was cranking up, but we were young and in love with ourselves and life in general. War was something that happened so far away, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with us. But, in all actuality, we were living in difficult, tumultuous times in this country. We were just too young to really understand it all.

And now, here we were in a darkened room, sweat trickling down our backs, waiting for Neil Armstrong to take “one small step for [a] man…one giant leap for mankind.” I remember being absolutely mesmerized by this amazing feat. This was one of those landmark moments in time. A moment when there was a before and after and nothing would be the same again. It was a unifying event and we all held our collective breath in the moment.

Here it is…fifty years later. Where did that time go? It seems I blinked and now I have great grandchildren. I’m feeling particularly nostalgic because I am here with my Colorado family. Yesterday we celebrated the 90th birthday of the matriarch of my son-in-law’s family. Grandma’s health has been failing this week but by golly, she rallied yesterday and seventeen of us gathered to shower her with our love and ate strawberry shortcake…her all time favorite. Afterwards, we left Grandma to get some rest and went out to dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory.

It was one of those days we will remember always…when Grandma’s sun was shining and the moon echoed with the memories of another hot summers’ night, so long ago.

❤️

“it will be established forever like the moon, the faithful witness in the sky.”” Psalm 89:37 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

Coffee & Plowing the South Forty

Thu, 18 Jul 2019 01:30:46 -0600

“Can you tell by looking whether it’s got caffeine in it? Yeah…me neither!!!!”

I love coffee. Like…LOVE coffee! I like to think I’m a coffee connoisseur, but I can’t name the region where a coffee was sourced just by tasting it or smelling it. I just know a good cup of coffee when I taste one. Ben & Sue are half-caff kids. No strong coffee for them. I learned to really appreciate coffee when Mr. Virgo was alive. If the spoon didn’t stand up in the cup, it wasn’t strong enough as far as he was concerned. And don’t DARE serve him a cup of coffee that you can read a newspaper through!

When Mr. Virgo and I were first together, I griped incessantly about his coffee…it was too strong, it was bitter, it was wretched! I bought a coffeemaker that actually had two sides to it. He would make his coffee in one side…I’d make mine in the other. We both turned our noses up when we saw the other’s brew. Then, that coffeemaker broke and he finally convinced me to buy a Bunn. They are fabulous! Your coffee is ready in literally 1-2 minutes. It was great.

After making a big show of pouring half a cup of coffee and filling the mug with milk before I popped it in the microwave, accompanied by a heavy sigh, I started actually appreciating the flavor of his coffee. It wasn’t until after Mr. Virgo died, that I started drinking my coffee the same strength as his. A “hanging on to memories” kinda thing, I think.

Ben & Sue have offered a place on the counter to put my own coffeemaker where I can brew my version of coffee, but I just haven’t taken the time to go out to the storage bins and search for it. Until I do, I am happy to have a cup or two of what is available. But at least a couple of times a week, I have to take advantage of the many coffee shops in the Metro Denver Area and get a “real” cuppa Joe.

Yesterday, Mr. FixIt and I had a list of things we wanted to accomplish. We went out to breakfast with Ben & Sue. We started out at Denny’s, but after 15 minutes and no one did so much as bring us silverware, we got up and left. We went to Perkin’s Pancake House. After breakfast, we headed out to run our errands. By the time we were finished, it was 3:00 and we decided to go to Caribou Coffee and get something cold and refreshing.

I am adamant about my caffeine intake. I cannot have regular coffee after about noon or else I’ll be up all night…ready to plow the south forty. I got about halfway through my iced coffee when I realized I forgot to order decaf! O. M. Gosh!!! As I’m writing this, it’s 8:30 Wednesday evening and I could start painting a barn if I had one! Zooooom! Zooooom!

It’s been hot here, but nothing like the heat y’all are getting back east! Ninety-eight here is certainly not the same as ninety-eight back home. I hope you all are staying safe and well hydrated so you stay healthy!

❤️

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:31 NIV

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

Making “Little” Memories!

Sun, 07 Jul 2019 01:30:08 -0600

“Little’s nest in TOW-Wanda!”

Little is here! She has been at camp all week and we only saw each other for an hour after I arrived last Sunday. I spent a good deal of time with Big this week, so I could hardly wait till Little got back and came over to “camp” with me.

She is my camper. No one else in my Colorado family is even remotely interested in camping. We had big plans to take the camper up in the mountains and stay a couple of days, but with the unfortunate demise of TOW-Wanda…we had to change plans.

I have the camper pulled around behind Ben & Sue’s house, underneath a locust tree. It doesn’t offer anything but a feeling of protection from the frequent hail storms we’ve had this week. I’m plugged into electric and water so I have all the comforts of home in my own little suite.

This incarnation of TOW-Wanda has a queen sized bed with a memory foam mattress that is swoon worthy. It had a bunk bed over the queen bed that also had a memory foam mattress on it. I removed that because I couldn’t sit up without hitting my head. The little dinette collapses down to make a separate twin sized bed that uses the seat cushions for a mattress. Not comfortable for an adult, but just fine for a kid.

Since I’ll be selling this camper here, I went to Walmart yesterday and bought some plastic tubs with tight fitting lids. I spent a couple of hours yesterday taking things out of the camper and fitting them neatly into the storage bins and put them in the back of my truck underneath the tonneau cover. See? There’s a reason I got that before this trip!

With all the extras removed, Little has plenty of room to stretch out and be comfortable while she camps with me. We went out for ribs last night. (Big is a vegetarian so Little and I have to get our carnivore cravings satisfied while her sister isn’t with us.) We had “Mamma Mia: The Movie” downloaded on the iPad to watch after dark.

I don’t get to see my Colorado grands very often…so when I do, I need to make deep and lasting memories with them. Camping with Little last night. Shopping with Big this afternoon. Life is so good!

❤️

“Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.”
Proverbs 17:6 NIV

Here Comes the Rain Again!

Sat, 06 Jul 2019 01:30:31 -0600

“Looking east as the sun set over Arvada.

I think I brought the rain with me from West Virginia. We got about an inch of rain in two days in the northwest suburbs of Denver. It dropped from the mid 80’s to 75…then in thirty minutes it dropped down to 60 degrees. Lots of small, pea sized hail but no damage that I can see.

Along with Colorado’s severe thunderstorms, California had a 7.1 earthquake aftershock last night, Europe is having an unprecedented heat wave, and West Virginia just sits and soaks in sweat. It’s crazy weather. I hope things settle down soon. It’s downright chilly here right now.

I’ve been “camping” at Ben & Sue’s house. We pulled the camper back under a locust tree for some little bit of protection from the elements. When you are in the camper, even pea and marble-sized hail sounds like a gunshot. Little is going to come join me and “camp” tonight. I had to tell her the camper is broken so we can’t go to the mountains like we wanted to. She is so easy going. She said she didn’t care where we camped, as long as we were together!

I’m sad I’ll be saying goodbye to this camper sometime this month. It has such a beautiful layout and is pristine inside. I know the right person will come along and be so happy to get her to place on a piece of property or in the back yard. I’ll just keep praying about it. Mr. FixIt put the title in the mail to me today so I should receive it Monday or Tuesday.

My sweet man arrives in Colorado a week from today! I can hardly wait to see him!!! He’ll be at the baby shower today for our little great grandson due this month. We got him a crib. I’m so sorry I’ll be missing that but I’m busy making memories here!

❤️

“He loads the clouds with moisture; he scatters his lightning through them. At his direction they swirl around over the face of the whole earth to do whatever he commands them. He brings the clouds to punish people, or to water his earth and show his love.”
Job 37:11-13 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

Trailer Trouble...With a Capital T

Wed, 03 Jul 2019 01:30:49 -0600

“Damage to the camper indicating it is no longer towable.”

Whenever I travel with one of my campers, I always circle around and do a visual safety check. I check before I head out. I check when I park for the night. And I check when I get to my destination. Saturday night I stayed at a hotel in Russell, KS. I did my walkabout when I locked her up to go inside and there was nothing wrong. Same thing the next morning before I headed out on the road for the final leg into Denver.

When I arrived at Ben & Sue’s house and I was unhooking, I noticed the front curbside corner of the camper had separated a little. It looked like a couple of screws had popped and all I would need to do is screw them back in. I was hot and tired and not planning to tow anytime soon so I decided to wait till I was better rested. The first chance I had was yesterday morning.

I went out and looked at the corner again. I tried to push back on the panel but it would not move. This indicated to me there was weight behind it and my original idea was not going to work. I got down on my knees and looked back at the base of the trailer where it meets the frame and this is what I was faced with. The other side looks almost as bad.

That silver metal cover is the rock guard. It’s called diamond plate. It is heavy gauge and does NOT tear easily. I knew as soon as I saw it what had happened. When I first bought the camper, I notice there was about a two to three inch water stain on the mattress below one corner of that front window.

These windows notoriously leak. That’s why most camper companies don’t build a camper with them anymore. I asked the previous owner when I was inspecting the camper if it leaked and she said she had never noticed it before. Maybe it happened over the winter and was new. There was another red flag…the front surface had become delaminated. There is a fiberglass material fused over the wood walls in this camper. If there is a leak, over time…the surface will come away from the wood and have a rippled appearance.

It was a red flag that I didn’t understand was HUGE. I was thinking “little r”. Nope….big mama-honkin’ R! The more I camped in this new-to-me camper, the bigger that little leak got. I figured as soon as I had time, I would pop that front window out and re-caulk it. Done. Easy peasy. But it kept raining and I kept busy and then…boom!

What happened was, driving across the washboard that was once I-70 caused the board across the bottom front of the camper (that had obviously softened or rotted) to buckle from the weight of the camper body being repeatedly slammed down on it. This brought the body down over half an inch, dropping it onto the frame that comes out to create the tongue and hitch.

Layman’s terms? The camper is not towable in this condition. There are several scenarios that can happen here.

I could fix it myself. But this is a long, big, BIG job that could entail tearing the camper down to the frame and reconstructing it. I don’t have a place to work undercover. I’m not here long enough to do it...even if I were so inclined. Which I am not.
I could have someone fix it for me. This could cost two to three thousand dollars and the camper itself isn’t worth much more than that. (Come to find out, I paid too much for it, but we live and learn, right?) I’m not willing to put the money into it.
I can sell the camper “as is” with the firm stipulation that it is not roadworthy. This is a viable option. A lot of people are putting little campers in their back yards to use as she-sheds, guest houses, Air B&B accommodations, or playhouses for the kids and grandkids.
I can just leave it here and worry about it next summer, but that isn’t very reasonable. It would take up room at Ben & Sue’s and it would be out in a potentially bad Colorado winter. It’s just putting off the inevitable.

So, plans change. We won’t be camping on this trip except in the driveway of Ben & Sue’s house until I can manage to sell the camper. Mr. FixIt couldn’t find the title at home so he needs to get a new one. In order to do that, he needs the registration. That was in my truck so I sent it to him priority mail and he’ll get it Friday. Then he will send me the new title. And, he will be here a week from Saturday.

I don’t want to say I feel stupid. But I didn’t do what anyone who buys a used camper should do. I didn’t have it inspected by an RV professional. The inside showed no damage…it was pristine. All but that tiny leak. The only thing that made me feel better was this: The only way I could have known that board inside was rotten was to tear the front off the camper and you can’t do that. I had no way of knowing. It was just one of those unfortunate issues that sometimes comes with used campers.

I have backup campers at home. Everything will work out. I am VERY grateful nothing terrible happened on the road like the frame breaking in the middle of Kansas. This is workable…it’s not the end of the world. I will inevitably lose money on this deal, but that’s a lesson learned and an excellent teaching moment when I mentor women campers.

I tell my husband this over and over and over. “You get what you pay for.” I had the money to get a new(er) camper, but I went for the deal. Sometimes that “good deal” just doesn’t work out. And then again….sometimes rainbows come after the worst of storms! I wonder how God is going to use this for good? There is a reason this has happened here and now. I just don’t know what it is yet!

❤️

“It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.” Isaiah 4:6 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

Road Trip: Can’t Keep a Good Gal Down!

Fri, 28 Jun 2019 01:30:19 -0600

“A Shady Spot”

If you would have asked me at 10:00 Wednesday night, I would have told you (as I told you this morning) there was NO WAY I was going to leave for Colorado yesterday morning. Ahhhh…but, once I got past the icky stomach, took my tummy medicine, and slept a solid eight hours, it was a whole different ballgame.

Because I was getting up and down, I slept in the guest room so I wouldn’t wake up Mr. FixIt. I awoke before dawn…around 5:00…and felt great. I read my devotionals and caught up on some correspondence then my sweetheart came to check on me around 7:00. I met him with a big smile and said I was good to go! He smiled back with relief. He doesn’t like it when I’m sick anymore that the other way around.

It took a couple of hours to finish packing the truck and camper and I was on the road by 9:00. My first stop was Walmart to pick up a few things. I had some things to return. I got back to the camper and put away my purchases and got in the truck. There were my return items sitting on the front seat. Oy! I really didn’t want to cart them to Colorado so I went back in and stood in a long, slow line. But, it’s done and I was out before too long.

The next and final stop was gas and a great big drink to stay hydrated on my trip. The young gal behind the counter was very excited because she is leaving on vacation today. Her very first camping trip! Well, I turned right back around and talked with her for awhile! I sure hope she has a grand time and decides to keep right on camping! Those first few camping trips are critical. You’ll either love it or hate it.

It was really hot yesterday and about midway through my drive, I pulled over into a rest area to stretch out on my bed. Well, it was over 90 degrees! Of course, when you pull into a rest area, there’s no electricity, so no AC. You need to improvise. The last time I drove cross country alone, I stopped in Kansas for a rest and needed to do something to cool off. I had a tiny little battery fan and a cold pack from the freezer. It worked ever so slightly, but it wasn’t long before the cold pack was melted and that was the end of that.

When I was at Walmart yesterday, I bought two 10” fans that are powered by fan and batteries. I’ve also taken to carrying a very large bottle of water that I keep in the freezer of the camper. Went I stretched out on my bed yesterday, I sat the large frozen container in a basin and put the fan behind it. I also had three water bottles I had frozen. I set them up in front of the other fan. I positioned myself in front of the cool air and had a lovely mini siesta. Perfect! I popped all the bottles back in the freezer before I pulled back on the highway.

“Hillbilly Air Conditioner!”

That right there is a little hillbilly ingenuity. Appalachians are a resourceful lot. I arrived at my favorite little campground in Richmond, Indiana at around 5:30…had supper from my slow cooker and enjoyed the beautiful surroundings as the sun went down. I tried to keep from turning on the AC, but it was still 85 degrees at 8:00 and I was done with the heat by that time. I’ve never slept all night with the AC on in this little camper. It’s pretty noisy in this tiny little space.

I wrote early last night so I could have a good solid night’s sleep. Yesterday was a long day, but I didn’t get very far. That’s usually how it works on the first day out. For me, anyway. I monitored all the systems on the camper and the truck and everything worked just as it should so I don’t foresee any difficulties. As always, I say my prayers for travel mercies. I appreciate when you do, as well.

Have a beautiful Friday!!!

❤️

“Guard me, O Lord, from the hands of the wicked; preserve me from violent men, who have planned to trip up my feet.”
Psalms 140:4 ESV

A Tidy Purchase

Wed, 26 Jun 2019 01:30:58 -0600

“A tonneau cover turned out to be an extraordinary pargain!”

I told you all yesterday about our great find…a tonneau cover for my truck. We installed it yesterday and it was SO easy. It only took about fifteen minutes to do. We had to trim a couple small places in order for the tailgate to close, but that was super easy to do. We didn’t realize exactly how good this deal was till Mr. FixIt looked up this particular model of cover. New, they sell for nearly $800! And the carpeted bed liner sells for almost $500! We got them both for $75!!! Ok, I’m a little excited! Such a good bargain hunter I have for a husband.

We went to the farm yesterday. It appears the young man we had arranged to mow the yard…didn’t. But that’s ok. It is still mow-able without having to bale it. It is awfully wet out there. In the two weeks we were gone, the farm got over four inches of rain. We only got two at the Ponderosa. The ground is soggy when you walk out there. The house at the farm sits back in a holler and doesn’t get much sunlight. It’s nice for keeping cool, but causes a lot of problems with mold and mildew.

We noticed some evidence of termites this time. The first time I’ve seen that so we need to jump on that right away. I did a deep cleaning out there because my uncle is coming for a visit while I’m in Colorado and I wanted fresh bed linens for him. I mopped the floors and dusted. Mr. FixIt cleared off the back porch and scrubbed it down. Everything looked wonderful when we were finished.

I had every intention of leaving for Colorado today, but have decided to wait till tomorrow. This way I don’t have to run at breakneck speed getting everything done and I can take my time. The linens have all been washed and put back on the bed. I have some items to take out of the camper…things I took camping at Blackwater Falls and won’t need on this trip. This will cut down on the weight I pull which will improve my fuel consumption.

Oh, another thing Mr. FixIt did for me. Something was wrong with the water pump in the little camper. A water pump is supposed to turn on, build up pressure, then shut off. It only comes back on when the water pressure drops as you’re using water in the sink or toilet. Mine wouldn’t shut off. It ran on and on and was dreadfully loud. While we were in Florida, we discussed it and I ordered a new pump. It was here when we returned. Mr. FixIt installed it yesterday and it works perfectly! Now the only things I have to do is replace the shower nozzle and test out the hot water heater and we’re in business. Having your own shower when you camp is such a luxury.

I’m really getting excited now about the trip. I can’t wait to see my Colorado family…I’ve missed them so much! Today will be fun packing and preparing for a much needed road trip. Many of you asked yesterday. Mr. FixIt will fly out in a few weeks to join me before the wedding. Then, we will camp around Colorado and all the way back across the country. I’ve been looking forward to this trip for a whole year…I can hardly wait to get started and savor every single moment!!!

❤️

“Blessed shall you be when you come in, and blessed shall you be when you go out.” Deuteronomy 28:6 ESV

Road Trip: Falling Into Place

Tue, 25 Jun 2019 01:30:20 -0600

“Tonneau Cover for a Pickup”

My old truck had a fiberglass topper on it. It was really nice. I had the top lined with a carpet liner as well as a carpet bed liner. I had a couple of garment rods, a light, and two 12v outlets installed as well. It had a rack on the roof for my kayak. It was a sweet setup. Then, when my truck was totaled, the topper and all it’s accouterments went with it.

My new-to-me truck just has a plastic bed liner. There have been many times I have wished I had some way to tote things on my trips without necessarily having them visible to anyone who parks right beside us. I happened to mention this to Mr. FixIt the other day. He doesn’t forget things like this. We’ll get back to that in a minute.

A lot of things fell into place yesterday. First, we thought we might need new tires before I head to Denver. Mr. FixIt called all around and finally found a suitable pair for a reasonable price at Sam’s, but still…mounted and balanced…four tires were going to cost nearly $800! A chunk of change, to be sure. That’s the price of owning a truck.

We signed in at the tire desk, ordered the four tires, and paid for them. It was going to take about two hours so we started wandering around the store. About ten minutes later, they paged me overhead and we went back to the auto department. It turns out, I had a little over half the tread left on the tires and he didn’t want me to buy something I didn’t need.

How refreshing! Thank you, Brandon!

I did ask them, since they already had the truck back there, to please rotate the tires so they did that. As we were looking around the store, Mr. FixIt got a text. He said he had found a used tonneau cover for my truck for $150. I texted the woman selling it. She asked if I could also use a carpet bed liner! Well, yes…as a matter of fact. She then went on to tell me she was sick and tired of advertising stuff and if I wanted them both, she would sell them together for $75. Score! Now I can have a cover over my stuff during the Colorado trip.

We went to pick up our mail at the post office and there was my new water pump for the camper. Mr. FixIt can get that put in for me today, I can clean out my camper and restock it, run to town, change the oil on the truck, and leave for my trip west…maybe on Wednesday! I am really looking forward to seeing my kids and grandkids so if everything lines up like this, I’ll be on my way sooner rather than later.

Another road trip, Ranchers! Head ‘em up…move ‘em out!

❤️

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9 ESV

The Simple Things

Mon, 24 Jun 2019 01:30:28 -0600

“My birthday present…a shade for the tractor!”

Mr. FixIt and I were in Florida on my birthday. Like most men…smart men, anyway…he wanted me to tell him what I would like for my birthday. I told him, if I were younger, I would dearly love to have a chainsaw. He smiled. I told him all the great things I would do with a chain saw. The only thing is, I don’t have the upper body strength to do much with a chain saw anymore. So it was a rather moot point.

I couldn’t think of anything else. I don’t need tchotchkes. I like to buy my own clothes. I don’t need jewelry or anything fancy. Experiences are the best, but I was even drawing a blank for that. Finally, I told him there would come a moment when I would know exactly what I would like to have for my birthday and he could buy it then.

After church yesterday, we stopped at Lowes to pick up some dust masks so I can mow without worrying about getting another sinus infection. While we were there, I turned to Mr. FixIt.

“Do they make some sort of umbrella or something to put on the riding mower so when I’m out mowing, I’m not sitting out in the hot sun?”

“I’m sure they do, sweetheart. Let’s go look.”

We came around the corner to the riding mower display and there, before my very eyes, was exactly what I wanted! My husband always looks at me in a rather bemused way…as though I’m some sort of strange and exotic creature he’s never seen before. And, I suppose in a way, I am. He has never known a woman who would want a sunshade for the riding mower as her birthday present.

When we got home, he put my shade together and…unfortunately…there was a piece that was broken on it. I managed to fiddle with it and made it work yesterday while I was mowing, but we will return it for one that isn’t broken. It worked really well. The only think is, you have to be really careful when you are going under trees because the low hanging limbs will knock it down.

When I finished mowing, I came around the corner and Mr. FixIt was in the pool cleaning it out so that when I was done, I could take a refreshing dip. What a sweet man! Afterward, we went to the local pizza joint. We ran into my cousins and visited with them while we ate. It was a perfect, sunny summer day. My grandma would have declared we are “knee deep in June.” She would have been absolutely correct!

❤️

“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease."”
Genesis 8:22 ESV

Vacations: Past & Present

Fri, 21 Jun 2019 01:30:50 -0600

“Vacation Photos: The Making of Memories”

The idea of a vacation was totally foreign to me till I was in my late twenties. My family were not big travelers. We didn’t go to the beach every summer like many of my friends’ families did. We didn’t go camping or hike or play on the river that was a mere five blocks from our house. My Grandma was only west of the Mississippi a couple of times in her life. The first was to see my Uncle Sonny get his wings as an Air Force pilot. The second was when she went to Minnesota to visit my aunt’s resort on Lake Kabetogama. Two vacations in her life.

We didn’t have the money to have extravagant vacations. We visited my aunt and uncle over near the eastern panhandle of West Virginia for a week every summer. That was as close to a vacation that I ever got until I was married to Hubby #2. Our first real vacation was a road trip, car camping around Colorado. After that, we went to West Virginia several times to visit family and one year we went on a twenty mile backpack trip there.

The first extravagant vacation we had was a trip to Cancun with friends the year before I had Daughter #2. We went to Hawaii once, but it was very difficult to get him away from his practice for very long. We did quick trips to DC, Yellowstone, and Disney. After he and I parted company, I traveled alone whenever I could. I took Daughter #2 on a three week road trip when she turned thirteen and took her to Mexico for her sixteenth birthday.

When Mr. Virgo came along, we had great plans to travel when he retired. We did go on a long road trip for our honeymoon. We went to Utah once, and Yellowstone twice. In the summer of 2011, I took him to West Virginia to meet my family. He wanted to take me to Europe to see all the beautiful places he had been. We were buying a camper for retirement when he died.

Heading out on my own again, this time with my own little camper, I found travel to be my solace…my escape…a panacea for the pain of losing my husband. I traveled a lot in those years following his death. And, I was still on the road when my Uncle Bud called me home to live on the family farm. Even living there seemed like a vacation…a dream vacation luxuriating in the memories of my loving family.

Then, Mr. FixIt came along. Thankfully, he was retired and itching to get out and do things. We’ve already accomplished more travel in the short time we’ve been together than I did in the last thirty years. But, is it really “vacation” when you’re retired? Yes and no. No, because every day is Saturday, to some extent. We aren’t bound by the clock and time is somewhat our own. Yes when you consider all the work our properties entail.

I am so grateful for the opportunities to travel and see new places. I know there may come a time in the future when I may not get to do these things, so I’m making up for lost time. I’m banking memories like a squirrel hiding nuts. Someday, I’ll look back on all this…I’ll read the pages of this blog or my book…and have some wonderful stories to tell.

❤️

“I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God's gift to man.”
Ecclesiastes 3:12-13 ESV

Memories of a Disaster

Thu, 20 Jun 2019 01:30:43 -0600

“A piece of the Space Shuttle Challenger.”

On January 28, 1986, Hubby #2 and I were driving from the airport in Eau Claire, Wisconsin to Sparta for a job interview. He had just finished his residency and was asked by a friend to come join his practice. As we settled into the drive, I flipped on the radio and heard the terrible news. The Space Shuttle Challenger had exploded during liftoff killing the entire crew. We were devastated.

I think we all had an extra soft spot for the Challenger crew because of Christa McAuliffe, the first citizen to go into space….the first TEACHER to go into space. My daughter was young. She had bright, young teachers. The thought of one of them stepping froward to selflessly show students what you can achieve when you apply yourself struck a chord with every parent in the country.

We went to the Kennedy Space Center yesterday after a quick stop at Starbucks. When Mr. FixIt asked what I wanted to do with our day, I told him that was where I wanted to go. On the way down, I mentioned that it had been 25 years since I had been there. He said no, that I had been there with him two years ago.

All the way down, I kept asking him questions about it. I know I had my accident six months before that but surely I would have remembered being there. When we drove in, I looked all around and kept saying nothing looked familiar. It was beginning too scare me. I mean, we all begin to lose some mental acuity at a certain age, but this was a total blank.

After about the fifth time, I insisted I had never been there, we settled it by looking in our phones. Sure enough, we had not. However, we did remember what happened. We were actually going to go the the Space Center one morning when we received a frantic call that Mr. Virgo’s son-in-law was in the hospital in critical condition. Within an hour, we had cleaned the condo, packed the truck, and were rushing home.

The Space Shuttle Memorial has a long hallway with individual displays of carefully chosen memorabilia for each astronaut…the Challenger Crew to the left, the Columbia Crew to the right. Christa McAuliffe’s display is the final one on the left. Once you walk down the hallway and turn to the right, there is a dimly lit room with a piece of the recovered shuttle behind glass.

As I stood there alone, I let the somber weight of the moment flow over me. I was in the presence of where they lived last…where SHE lived last. My heart ached for her family…she left behind a son and daughter, ages nine and six, respectively. My heart ached for all the school children watching the launch live on TV that morning. My heart is much more tender since Mr. Virgo died.

Mr. FixIt walked up behind me and gently placed his arm around my waist. He knew. Maybe it’s the way I hold myself. Maybe it was just the church-like solemnity of the room. Maybe, like me, he was thinking back to what he was doing that day. Maybe he hugged his babies a little tighter that night, too.

We finally moved on to other displays and eventually headed toward the parking lot. As we pushed the door open, we were met with heavy skies and severe thunderstorm warnings on our phones. We looked at the sky, then each other, then back to the sky. There was no way we were going to make it to parking lot six before those clouds opened up.

We elected to buy a snack and sit it out under cover. We had another one of those car wash rains I’ve become fairly familiar with this trip. As soon as it lightened up enough, we headed to the truck as soon as we could. We stopped on the way home at a Cuban-Mexican restaurant and I had the best fish tacos with mango salsa! I haven’t had them that good since the last time I was in Mexico.

So, our trip is winding down. We need to do the housekeeping things you do when you stay at someone else’s home. We’ll pack up and take all but what we need tonight and stow it in the truck. Then tomorrow morning, we’ll head back to West Virginia. As I write this tonight though, I am sitting in the big chair, curled up, with the sliding glass door open so I can hear the waves crashing on the beach not one hundred steps away. The sea breeze is freshened by the evening rain and it feels cool on my skin. It’s time to go home.

❤️

“You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them.”
Psalms 89:9 ESV

Early Bird Special

Mon, 17 Jun 2019 01:30:53 -0600

“Father’s Day in Florida…a little slice of Heaven!”

It wasn’t that many years ago that I looked on as “old people” toddled into restaurants to eat dinner at 4:00 in the afternoon. The “Early Bird Special”. “Bonkers!” I thought. “What on earth are they doing eating at this time of day? Don’t they know how to have FUN anymore?”

HA!

Guess who can’t eat anything other than Raisin Bran after 5:00??? Yeah…what goes around, comes around, don’t it?

So Father’s Day started out great. A lovely breakfast served to my sweet man…father to a great family…love of my heart. Then, we headed to the Ponce deLeon Lighthouse. We’ve been there before. It was earlier in the day…I was in much better shape…and it wasn’t so darned hot the last time. The “feels like” temperature yesterday when we arrived at said lighthouse was 98 degrees.

When you came out of the drastically air conditioned gift shop into the Florida heat and humidity at 1:00 in the afternoon, it seriously felt like walking into a sauna. And, there were signs everywhere that said “No water bottles.” Among other important things to leave behind like pets and flip flops.

Seriously? You want a slightly pudgy West Virginian with heat intolerance to climb up 203 steps…without water…or air, for that matter. Ok, I’ve done it before…I’m sure I can do it again. As I climbed the stairs, I got to the first landing and remembered. THIS was the lighthouse I didn’t like before. It gets narrower and narrower the further up you go till it becomes really tight. AND…they don’t open the windows so there is zero air flow.

The last time I felt like this was in 1989 when I climbed up the interior staircase of the hidden inner pyramid of Chichen Itza. Very narrow, steep stairs, slippery with the dampness, only the occasional incandescent bulb hanging dimly to lead your way. Four of us entered…our good friends, Hubby #2, and me. Only two of us made it up. Me and our friend’s husband. The others backed out with feelings of claustrophobia.

This felt tight and close like that and by the time I got up to that first flight, I couldn’t breathe. It was the heat and being out of and still feeling the effects of illness. There’s nothing wrong with saying, “Nope…not doing this one!” I went down and out and sat in a rocker on the front porch of the lighthouse keeper’s house, waiting for Mr. FixIt to come out on the balcony above.

He snapped a few pictures and chatted with some folks from Roanoke then gave me a jaunty wave. When he came back down, he looked like a drowned rat. It was time to cool off and we headed for the air conditioned museums.

Once we were cooler, we headed to the truck and drove down to New Smyrna Beach. I’ve got to tell you, driving down that narrow little street with the Father’s Day crowds didn’t feel much different than climbing that ever narrowing lighthouse with no air. I couldn’t believe how many people were crowded into such a tiny area.

I’ve been there before so I didn’t really need to get out. But it was Father’s Day…we do for the ones we love. I won out when we finally found ONE parking spot in a lot. You pay by entering your driver’s license number and stick in your credit card. When the fee came up in the window, I nearly fell over. $20.00! You had to pay for a full day. Nope! Not doing that either.

We headed back toward our condo and we both decided we were hungry and wanted seafood. We came by Blackbeard’s Inn and remembered eating there the last time we were in Florida. We pulled in and had such a good meal. Blue crab cake and coconut shrimp with a baked potato. All perfectly delicious.

What time was it, you ask?

4:00

The Early Bird Special!

sigh

❤️

‬‬“Do not reject me now that I am old; do not abandon me now that I am feeble.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭71:9‬ ‭GNT

On the Mend

Sun, 16 Jun 2019 01:30:42 -0600

“Another beautiful day at the beach.”

Something no one wants to do when they’re on vacation is visit an urgent care. I’ve had a sinus infection for over two weeks and even with a week of antibiotics, I woke up yesterday and was miserable. I knew if I was going to enjoy this vacation at all, I was going to need the right medication so I gave in and went.

I have only visited one quick care before. When I was married to Hubby #2, the doctor, we referred to them as Doc in the Box. We always kind of looked at them as “sort of” doctors. I was so pleasantly surprised by the Atlantic Urgent Care & Walk In Clinic. On a Saturday morning in the height of beach season, I was out of there in less than hour. They were professional and efficient and caring. I got the right meds, started taking them right away, and within a couple of hours, I was feeling 100% better.

We went out for a late breakfast then went to the Arts & Science Museum. What an incredible display they had. They house the collection of the Root family…inventors of the Coca Cola bottle. It was really interesting. I think we had more fun in the Children’s Museum section than anything. We played with all the displays and didn’t feel self conscious at all because it was full of adults doing the same thing.

Afterwards, it was out for a really great meal at Giuseppe’s Pizza. Home for a nap and finished up the day sitting out on the beach till well after dark. There are free concerts and fireworks down at the pavilion about five miles away every Saturday night. We sat out and watched the fireworks and the stars. It was beautiful.

So glad to feel more myself and I’m looking forward to really enjoying our vacation now.

❤️

“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

Facebook Memories

Sat, 15 Jun 2019 01:30:16 -0600

“The Storm King House”

Oh, sometimes those memories that pop up on your timeline are killers, aren’t they? On my birthday, five years ago, I put my Colorado house on the market. I bought this house when Hubby #2 and I split up. It was about a third built and I chose my colors, carpeting, cabinets and countertops, and all the plumbing and lighting fixtures. Even though Daughter #2 was only eleven years old, she spent three weeks at a time with each of us. It was, essentially, the first time I’d ever lived sort of alone.

I was so proud of the house. I did the landscaping myself…laying sod, planting trees and flowers. This was before the days of “TOW-Wanda” so my little house was my sanctuary. I decorated like girls lived there…because, they did. I had green and white striped sofas and lots of florals. No TV. The antique rolltop desk that my uncle left to me when he died sat where an entertainment center was supposed to go.

I didn’t have curtains. I needed all the light I could get. I loved that house. Then, Mr. Virgo came along. Six months after he moved into the house, he diplomatically asked if I had ever given any thought to redecorating. I think the fru-fru girly stuff was getting to his mountain man sensibilities. I acquiesced and when we were married, we got rid of all the furniture and started over.

A friend of mine was moving to Hilton Head and didn’t want to take the furniture from her million dollar house, so I bought about $25,000 worth of furniture from her for $4,000. We painted the first floor living area as loft gold, hung tapestry valances, and brought in the new furniture. We had the painting behind the dining room table done by a Colorado artist. And we found the breakfast table and chairs at a local furniture store.

I felt so….grown up. All this sophisticated furniture with my homey touches of family antiques filled my heart. I really, REALLY loved my house.

Then Mr. Virgo died. We had just refinanced the house five months before he died. In order to give us flexibility with payments, we went with a thirty year mortgage with the understanding we would pay it off quickly when we were flush and still stay afloat on the lean months. Now I was faced with a tenth of the income and a mortgage that wouldn’t be paid off till I was ninety years old!

I quickly began to hate the house. It needed new carpet, new windows, new appliances, new paint. It was nickel and dime-ing me to death. And there were memories around every corner. I couldn’t stand it. I stayed away as much as I could. They tell you not to make any major decisions in the first year after losing your spouse. So, I waited till the next summer and decided to sell.

I wouldn’t change a thing, really. I made my decisions based on what I was faced with in the moment. I suppose, maybe I could have kept the house and rented it out, but that just presents a whole different set of problems. We went through that when we rented it out for three years while we worked around the state. In reality, it would have been cumbersome.

Do I miss it? I don’t know…I look at these pictures and remember how beautiful it was. I remember all my stuff I had in it. I think the thing I miss the most is that great front porch. But that is not the life I live now. That was then. This is now. I have a life now that I wouldn’t trade for the world. And, when we build our retirement home, we can make it any way we want it. And I’ll have a big front porch just like this one. That’s the one thing I’ll ask for special.

Facebook Memories….sometimes they blindside you. Sometimes they show you’re right where you’re supposed to be.

❤️

“For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything.” Hebrews 3:4 NIV

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

One Hour & Thirty-Five Dollars = A Haircut

Thu, 06 Jun 2019 01:30:12 -0600

“Before and After…what a difference a haircut makes!”

I haven’t really felt like my perky self for a while. Nothing I could really put my finger on. Maybe a little tired. Maybe a little down about aging. I’ve been losing weight but avoiding the mirror. It didn’t really dawn on me till I saw pictures from the baptism a couple of weeks ago and I was up on the stage with my bonus granddaughter. Gasp! I looked SO old! I looked like my grandma. Not that that is a bad thing, but I’m talking in her 80’s. I was in desperate need of a haircut!

I always celebrate birthday month…not just a week or a weekend or a day. Nope…I was born in June…I celebrate JUNE! This month I turn 66. It’s only a number. I have more energy than I did at half my age. I remember when I turned 26. I was SO depressed! It had been a WHOLE DECADE since I got my driver’s license. Give me a break! Now it’s been half a century since I got my driver’s license. insert eye roll here

No, it wasn’t my actual calendar age that was getting to me. It was my hair. I got lazy. I got tired of going in every six weeks and getting it cut. I got tired of sometimes having the perfect cut and other times wondering what went wrong. I got tired of spending the money on something that you just have to do over and over and over.

It’s not my fault really. I saw beautiful older women on Pinterest…long flowing locks of silver hair caressing unnaturally perky breasts. Stylishly dressed. Leaning against brick buildings in downtown New York City….their jacket carelessly draped across their shoulders…their chunky boho jewelry and oversized sunglasses deflecting my gaze from anything that could barely be called crepe-y skin. No…Pinterest assured me I would look uber chic with long, silver hair.

Then, I took a look at myself and wondered what on earth possessed me to do such a thing. Me…in my JCPenney sleeveless summer dress made from t-shirt material. Me…of the ample upper arms and comfortable tummy. Me…of the “I know I have makeup SOMEWHERE in this house!” Me…of the Chacos and farmer tan and clip-on sunglasses and floppy brimmed had and a riding mower. Yeah…it was time for a reality check.

I called Michelle on Tuesday and cried uncle. I said, “You win! I’m coming in to cut it off!” I’m almost sure I heard an audible sigh of relief from the other end of the phone. “How’s tomorrow at 11:00?” She didn’t want to wait too long for fear I might change my mind.

An hour. Thirty-five dollars. That’s all it took to bring back my sparkle. It’s really true…if you LOOK good, you FEEL good. I walked out of there feeling like a million bucks! It’s such a simple thing…getting a haircut. Oh, and a pedi. A MUCH needed pedi. I hadn’t had a “Me Day” for such a long time. It was way overdue and I feel so much better.

I sent the before and after photos to Mr. FixIt with a note…”Here’s the girl you fell in love with!” And you wanna know what he said?

“You’re beautiful…but, I didn’t fall in love with your hair.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling.

❤️

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8 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

From Beast to Beauty

Sat, 01 Jun 2019 01:30:03 -0600

“The glorious Luna Moth!”

It takes about ten days for the egg of the luna moth to hatch into a tiny caterpillar and another five to six weeks for that caterpillar to go through multiple instars (stages of growth) to reach its full size…2.5” long by 3/4” diameter. That’s a big green worm! Once it reaches its full size, it spins a cocoon and usually about two weeks later, the moth emerges, wings shriveled and damp. Over the course of several hours, fluid is pumped into the wings, they dry, and voila…one of the largest silk moths of North America emerges to grace us with its presence.

Normally, the luna moth has a wingspan of about 4.5” but they can be as large as 7” across. This fellow is a male. His wings angle backwards somewhat and his abdomen is smaller because he isn’t carrying the 200-400 eggs the female has. They fly in the evening and at night in late spring and early summer. They don’t particularly like when the temperature dips into the 50’s. They’ll be somewhat paralyzed until it warms up.

I love when I catch sight of one of these beautiful moths. You don’t see them quite as often as you used to because a type of predatory fly was introduced to control the invasive gypsy moths and they’ve damaged several species of moths, including the glorious luna.

Mr. FixIt called me into the kitchen last night so I could see this fellow. I ran outside with my phone so I could take pictures while the light was still good. As I was coming back inside, I found the remains of a luna who wasn’t so lucky…wings scattered here and there, coated with drops of dew. Nature. It’s a rough world out there.

“The remnants of an unfortunate demise.”

When I came out to the camper to write afterwards, I watched a video on Facebook. The premise was two former classmates run into each other in the parking lot of the grocery store. They chat and it becomes apparent one is wealthy and the other is not. The one who was not tells the other about her son getting a job after graduation and that he is thriving and so happy. The other kind of turns her nose up a bit and brags about HER son who is going to Stanford. And, as a matter of fact, he was on his way to pick her up….wasn’t that sweet? The poorer mother smiled and nodded and congratulated the other mom on her son’s great achievements. But you could see when wealthy mom left, the working boy’s mom looked a little let down.

I am ashamed to say, I can relate to that…however fleetingly. This is the time of year when news of graduations fill the pages of social media with our darlings’ academic accomplishments. It’s beautiful and I don’t begrudge them their joy. Not one bit. We were thrilled when Daughter #1 got her Associates Degree, majoring in drama. We told her that, and $3.50 would buy her a cup of coffee and she should go on and at least get her Bachelors Degree. But no…she and her fiancé had other plans and married a month or two after graduation.

At some point along the way, she realized perhaps her parents had been right and she had an excellent opportunity to go back to school at which time she became a Special Ed teacher. Again, we were so proud. Then, somewhere down the road, she went back and got her Masters. She’s still married to her college sweetheart and coming up on their 24th anniversary.

Daughter #2 is brilliant…maybe more so than her sister as far as IQ goes. But she has always danced to her own music, struggled over eight years getting her Bachelors but never gave up, and now works in management in the food service industry…the love for which she received from her beloved stepfather…Mr. Virgo.

In the movie I watched earlier, the Stanford son berated his mother for keeping him from his friends and let her know she was distinctly cramping his style while the poor son brings his mama flowers and tells her how much he loves and appreciates her for everything she does for him. A dramatization, for sure. But there is much truth there, unfortunately.

A while back, a friend from long ago posted photos of her daughter getting her doctorate. They flew to Australia to visit her where she was doing research. Her two younger daughters were married, one after the other. Beautiful. Successful. This girl and Daughter #2 had play dates together when they were babies. I had a moment of full on green envy.

For only a moment. Because, in that moment, Daughter #2 called me on the phone. I sat back and listened to her go on and on about the upcoming wedding and how her dress is just so perfect and makes her look like a million bucks. We chatted about how the bouquets are being made with origami flowers from comic book pages. And she found a real Viking drinking horn at a pawn shop and that’s what they’re going to toast with! Wow! And under her dress? Tie dyed Vans…of course!

As I listened to her happy voice, my mind drifted back over the many phone calls when she struggled and suffered through depression and anxiety. Really struggled. And I realized…rich, poor, Stanford, Community College, PhD, shift lead in a restaurant…none of that matters. She’s happy. There is light and life in her voice. My eyes filled with tears…from shame that I was even momentarily envious…and from sincere joy and relief that my baby didn’t end up a statistic like so many others have.

I still have her here…in all her quirky, wonderful weirdness. As we prepared to hang up, she gave me that sweetest gift every mama craves.

“I love you, mama…all over your face!”

“I love you too, Moon Pie.”

She made it…just like the caterpillar to the glorious Luna.

❤️

“Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4 NIV

Severe Weather

Thu, 30 May 2019 01:30:57 -0600

“Severe weather, volunteer pumpkins, a more mowing…another day on the Ponderosa.”

As with most of you, I browsed the news yesterday morning and saw the destruction from the many severe storms throughout the Midwest. I know people there…I was praying for them all. I knew we were supposed to get some rain yesterday, but I didn’t know how severe the storm was going to be.

I went to Schoolhouse Quilts around lunchtime to pick up my daughter’s wedding quilt. I need to sew the binding and then it will be finished. I was finishing my coffee while I visited with Carolyn, the owner. My phone rang. It was Mr. FixIt telling me to look at the radar…we were about to get hit hard.

I wrapped it up quickly, paid for the quilting, and ran to the truck just as the rain started. We live in a really small town. A grocery store, a Dollar General, the quilt shop, a pizza place, a gas station, the thrift store, and a couple of churches. That’s about it. It didn’t take long to drive to “the other side of town”.

I was about to the Piggly Wiggly when the lightning started striking all around me. I could see it hitting the hillside in front of me. I saw the flashes out of my peripheral vision…on both sides. I quickly turned into the parking lot, but it was raining too hard and the lightening was coming hard and fast. I couldn’t even pull up close to the store. I think some other people had the same idea.

I pulled my phone out and opened the Weather Channel app. It has a very reliable radar. When I saw it, I understood what a “Severe Thunderstorm Warning” looked like while it was happening. The notice at the top of the screen said “Lightning detected 0 miles north of you.” Yeah…no kidding!

I sent the screen shot to Mr. FixIt and told him where I was and I was going to sit this one out. Then I thought of the leaky basement and really wanted to get home. I closed my eyes and prayed hard. I told Jesus I knew he had calmed the seas when the storm was raging and I trust that He gives us that same power. I told the storm, in Jesus’ name, to break away and part the sky so I could get home safely.

Less that one minute later…the clouds parted. And even though the radar still showed lightning activity…there was nothing near me. I was home in less than two minutes. These are the things that amaze me. Not because I doubt they can be done. They can. I see it all the time. But it amazes me that I would never have done something like that just a few years ago. I was the scientist. The skeptic. The unbeliever.

Coincidence? Maybe. But I’m telling you what I saw immediately after I prayed for it. It doesn’t make me special or important or better than anyone else. It just makes me believe more. The storms eventually moved out by afternoon. Mr. FixIt came home and I mowed the big field while he ran the weed eater and the push mower. We are due for more storms today so I am planning on sitting and working on my daughter’s quilt.

As I was out mowing around the burn pile, I noticed a large amount of green growth. I looked closer and there was a volunteer pumpkin vine growing from the ashes. I smiled. We burned that brush pile the week before our wedding. When the wedding was over, we used the pumpkins for Halloween decorations. Then, after the first freeze and they got soggy, Mr. FixIt threw them on the brush pile. That’s what I love about WV. You can throw a seed out there and it can grow all on its own.

Same with love.

❤️

““Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.” “Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is not against us is for us.” Mark 9:38-40 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

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

Farm Life is a Good Life

Fri, 17 May 2019 01:30:58 -0600

“Clockwise from top left: Grandma’s peonies, a row of tiger swallowtails, the peonies out by the road, bearded iris alongside the house, the view from the road, tiger swallowtail up close”

As I was washing the breakfast dishes yesterday, something outside the kitchen window caught my eye. I stood quietly and studied the branches in the cedar and maple trees that frame my view of the yard. Suddenly, I saw it again. A fledgling house wren just took it’s first tentative flight from the nest. It snuggled in amongst the leaves, trying not to draw attention to itself. Mama came flying down and sat beside her brave baby. Soon, she swooped down to the grass and picked up a bug and brought it back to the little one. And so begins the feeding and teaching till this little fellow can survive on his own.

I smiled as I dried my hands and set to my morning chores. Mr. FixIt would be home soon and I needed to get things together to go out to the farm. I packed a couple of bags and gathered the laundry to do while we were out there. I took my morning coffee out on the deck by the pool. Then I wandered over to the garden. I sprinkled the plants with rabbit repellent. I caught sight of a chipmunk darting around the corner of the big building out back and wondered if the repellent works for them, too.

When Mr. FixIt got home, I helped him get the riding mower and the push mower on the utility trailer. Why we didn’t think of doing this two years ago, I’ll never know!

When we got to the farm, we unloaded the mowers and I hopped on the riding mower. If you remember correctly, when I was mowing the farm by myself it took me a good five hours. I had to mow thirty minutes then cool off and rehydrate…over and over till I was done. I literally finished mowing in less than fifteen minutes with the riding mower! Mr. FixIt took the push mower and mowed the ditches out front and the perimeter of the yard. The edges of the lawn are too soft to use the riding mower. It could collapse the creek bank and take me with it.

When we were finished, I cooked a good supper of pork chops, lima beans, and Amish potato salad. We sat down to watch the news and there it was…bad storms coming. We were prepared to stay a night or two, but until we fix that drain at the bottom of the steps, we have to be at the Ponderosa if there is a threat of heavy rain or else we’ll have a flooded basement.

I washed the dishes and was getting things ready to head back home when Mr. FixIt called to me to bring my phone outside. There, on the driveway, were six or seven tiger swallowtail butterflies, intently feeding on something. I have no idea what. When I startled them at one point, they rose up and circled around and around us for several minutes in a dazzling butterfly dance. Then, just as quickly, they settled back down in the same spot. It was magical and went on for forty-five minutes or so.

We finally had to say goodbye to the butterflies and head back to the Ponderosa. Sometimes farm life is a hard life. But, it’s really a good life.

❤️

“May God give you heaven’s dew and earth’s richness— an abundance of grain and new wine.” Genesis 27:28 NIV

Rainy Days and Mondays

Tue, 14 May 2019 01:30:55 -0600

“Watching the softball game in the rain and cold.”

I opened my eyes and looked around the camper. Something woke me up but not sure exactly what. I picked up my phone and there was a text from Gail. She had to head home from the campground early and asked me to let her know when I got home safely. We do that, us Girl Campers. Nothing says I love you quite like “Let us know when you get home.”

I thought I might go ahead and get up. I put away just about everything the night before. Instead, I rolled over and pulled the covers up under my chin and dozed off for another three hours. I heated up my coffee and hopped back under the covers to sip and watch the birds around the campground. I recognized a mockingbird and a downy woodpecker. I heard a pileated woodpecker up in the canopy of leaves over my head. I saw some buzzards circling over the nearby field and caught sight of a blue heron with his head tucked back, long legs following along behind him as he flapped slowly on his way to the water.

After my second cup, I decided it was time. I hooked up the camper and took off for home around 11:30. It wasn’t too long till the heavy clouds overhead took on a dark and menacing greenish grey and the sky opened up. I drove through some very heavy rain. I dropped my speed and didn’t use cruise control…two things that increase the risk of hydroplaning.

I stopped at a rest area just inside the West Virginia border and emptied the black tank. I had no grey water this time. I got home and parked the little camper alongside the building out behind the house so I can plug it in and use it for writing and naps. There is something so special about spending time in my camper…whether I’m actually camping or not.

As soon as I got home, I needed to clean up so we could go to our granddaughter’s softball game. We stopped for some supper on the way and it was so cold at the game, we actually parked beyond the outfield and sat in the truck. It rained a few times but not enough to delay the game. Our team lost, but they sure worked hard. They have a rematch tomorrow at an away game.

When I got home, I turned on the electric blanket on the bed in the camper and climbed in. As I did, I noticed the coverlet on the bed is damp. Apparently the camper leaked somewhere as I was driving through that heavy rain so I’m going to need to get to the bottom of that. It doesn’t leak sitting in the rain so it must have come from the water splashing up from the road. Ahhhh, campers…there is always some thing that needs fixed or replaced.

Home, Sweet Home…it was so good to see Mr. FixIt and give him a big hug!

Thank you, God…for travel mercies, for such good friends, and for a precious homecoming.

❤️

“The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.” Psalms 121:7-8 ESV

Too Close to Home

Wed, 08 May 2019 01:30:06 -0600

“How many more children have to die before something is done about this?”

Another school shooting. Seven miles from Columbine. They recently observed the 20th anniversary of the school shooting that seemed to change everything. Copycat killers, looking for moments of notoriety, sprung up everywhere, it seems.

What is causing all this? I have my theories. Personally, I think things started taking a giant slide down a slippery slope when Dr. Spock said don’t spank your kids. I’m not for violence by any means, but my kids got a proper swat on their butts when they were out of line. And they are great adults.

Kids aren’t given outlets for their anger anymore. I was talking with my son-in-law’s mom last night. Her mother was discussing this with her contemporaries in the assisted living center at supper. She said, in her day and age, there were bullies, and kids got in scraps, but you had a row and got it over with. Now, children are handled with kid gloves and they can’t fight back.

They also get left with video games and the internet as their babysitters. You cannot tell me that violent video games don’t have an impact on children today. How can it not? You can’t sit for hours at a time, shooting and maiming “people” in this realistic scenarios and not be desensitized to the violence. It becomes the norm.

This one hit close to home. While not in my daughter’s district, she teaches at a STEM school and my granddaughter is a student at that same school. (Not the one where the shooting occurred yesterday, thank God.) She used to work with many of the teachers at the school where the shooting occurred. The principal is my daughter’s sister-in-law’s best friend.

This is getting too close.

They’re ALL too close!

Something has to be done. Our children go into a war zone every single day. Teachers and school staff, too. This is not the country we were raised in. It’s not the country my children were raised in either. I own guns. But my guns are locked up in a safe. I have a .22 hidden when I am at the farm in case I’m bothered by a two-legged varmint.

I pray. I pray a lot. But, something has to be done. Our children are killing and being killed. Prayers are wonderful…but we need more. I’m not writing this to invite debate. This is not the place for that. There are better places for that…like with our representatives. I’m just crying out as a Nana. A very, very concerned Nana.

As an aside…I arrived at the campground without incident.

I pray for those families. The ones who got the call. And for the families of the shooters. how horrifying.

???

“For this is the message that you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another. We should not be like Cain, who was of the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own deeds were evil and his brother's righteous.

We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brothers. Whoever does not love abides in death. Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him.”

1 John 3:11-12, 14-15 ESV

Listen...

Tue, 07 May 2019 01:30:31 -0600

“Chasing down an annoying little beep”

Do you hear that? That’s what I asked Mr. FixIt when I called him over to my camper. We were busy prepping her for her maiden voyage. (We leave today!) I was moving last minute things from the big camper to the little one. Mr. FixIt had just finished greasing the hubs. I was putting some things in a cabinet when I suddenly heard a faint beeping sound. It sounded like the alarm on a small electronic timer inside a suitcase. Faint…but discernible. I started my search.

I looked in every cabinet. I cocked my head this way and that trying to figure out where it came from. It definitely sounded like it was coming from the driver’s side of the camper…kind of near the refrigerator. I opened the fridge. Nope…not in there. I moved on to the bathroom. I could hear it still, but couldn’t find the source.

I went outside and that’s when I cornered Mr. FixIt.

“There’s a noise.”

“What kind of noise?”

“A beeping noise.”

“Ok. Where’s it coming from?”

“I don’t know! I’ve been looking everywhere and I can’t find it. Listen…do you hear that?”

Just then, a big truck came down the road.

“Nope.”

“Wait…just listen.”

Finally…he heard it, too!

“What the heck IS that?”

We walked all around the camper and determined it sounded like it was coming from the side where the refrigerator is. We went inside and checked the fuse box, the air conditioning, the refrigerator. I even got out the owner’s manual to see if there were some sort of alarm that had something to do with greasing the axles, since that’s the last thing we did before I heard it.

Nothing.

Then it stopped. Ten seconds later, it started again.

“Oh, my gosh! You know me with noises. That will drive me crazy. I have to find it!”

I went back outside and started walking around the camper in ever widening circles and suddenly, I could tell where it was coming from. It wasn’t the camper. It was something in the yard! I walked slowly, thinking maybe someone had dropped off a time bomb near our house. I got closer to the road and suddenly…a light bulb went off over my head.

I walked straight to the trash can and started rummaging around for the bag I had dropped in there earlier and came up with the culprit. The old smoke detector was going off because the trash can was getting hot in the noonday sun! Whew…case solved.

I moved on to the next job and brought some clothes out to the camper. Suddenly I heard Mr. FixIt. It sounded like a sneeze…but not quite. I stuck my head out of the camper and hollered.

“You ok?”

“Sneeze!”

“You sneezed?”

“Sneeze!!!!!”

“Ok, already….you sneezed. Jeez-o-Pete!”

“SNAKE!!!!!!!”

“Holy cats! WHERE????”

“It went under your smoker! Get the hoe.”

I grabbed the hoe…aka snake killer tool in West Virginia.

“What kind was it?”

“I think it was a copperhead!”

Ugh…poisonous.

“Ok…tip up the smoker.”

He did. And this two foot snake started squiggling around. We both jumped and the hoe came down before my brain could register it wasn’t a copperhead. I think it was a rat snake. I hated that I killed it. But, I did. Just like the turtle I ran over in the tall grass in the field later. I hated that, too. I tried to switch propane tank covers from one camper to the other. When I lifted up the cover, a bird flew out right in front of me and I about jumped out of my skin. A Jenny Wren had made a nest on top of the propane tank and there was a baby and a tiny egg in it so I quietly left it alone.

Living in the country is NOT for sissies!

❤️

“I know every bird in the mountains, and the insects in the fields are mine.” Psalm 50:11 NIV

Rainy Days

Sun, 05 May 2019 01:30:13 -0600

“Grandma’s rhododendron is starting to bloom out at the farm. I think it might have gotten a little nipped by the polar vortex this winter, but it sure loves these rainy days!”

It has been rainy in West Virginia the last couple of days. We’ve even had some thunderstorms, which I dearly love. I remember really missing them when I lived in Colorado. The thunder doesn’t roll there like it does here. The rain held off till Mr. FixIt and I were finished changing the oil in both trucks. I sat on the mechanic’s stool, looking up at the sky when it started to sprinkle and asked God to please hold off for an hour or so. He was so gracious to do so. Thank you.

I was very disappointed. We had everything set up. I got the truck up on the ramps with Mr. FixIt’s guidance, and I got down under the engine and set to work. Try as I might, I simply could NOT loosen the plug in the oil pan. I couldn’t get in a good position to get leverage. The battery pack for the headlamp sat on the back of my head wrong and kept getting in my way. And for some reason, I didn’t like the feeling of that truck over my chest on the plastic ramps Mr. FixIt has. His metal ones were stolen and I just didn’t trust plastic to hold that truck up off me. It gave me the heeby-jeebies.

Mr. FixIt took my place and, with some difficulty, finally got the plug out. I got BACK under the truck and tried to loosen the oil filter and it wouldn’t budge. I hated to admit defeat, but i just don’t have the arm, wrist, and hand strength I used to have. I climbed back out and sat on the stool handing Mr. FixIt what he needed, when he needed it. When he was finished, I held the funnel while he poured the oil in.

“I’m sorry.” I said, dejectedly. “I just couldn’t do it.”

Mr. FixIt looked at me with soft eyes and said, “That’s ok, baby. That’s what husbands are for.”

For one second, the feminist reared up in my head…then I stopped. I looked at this kind, gentle, yet strong man and said…

“Service. That’s your love language, isn’t it?”

He smiled and went back to the task at hand. I didn’t even offer to try helping him when we got his truck up on the ramps. We just chatted as he told me stories or pointed out the differences between the two trucks and their filters. I sat on the stool, smiling and sending up a big “Thank You” for my many, many blessings.

❤️?❤️

“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

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

A Trip for Tomatoes

Thu, 02 May 2019 01:30:07 -0600

“Shari Sims and her precious pooch greet customers at Sims Greenhouse in Palestine, WV”

Twenty-eight years ago, Shari Sims and her husband opened a little greenhouse in Palestine, WV. It’s a tiny little blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town on the quintessential two-lane blacktop way out in the country but you’d never know it from the looks of the enterprise they’ve got going now. I counted at least four greenhouses filled to the brim with the most gorgeous flowers and vegetables.

“I love the colors of succulents…so soft and soothing.”

We browsed through the many varieties of tomato plants and chose ten. Several of them were at least two feet tall and already have tomatoes set on. $14.00 for all of them! I couldn’t believe it. They also sell wholesale to businesses. We visited with several people as we looked around in the various greenhouses. Shari’s son is soon graduating and has taken an interest in the plant business and runs a separate greenhouse that raises lettuces. I’m really looking forward to that when he opens.

Sims Greenhouse, 7460 Palestine Road, Palestine, WV ( out Rt. 14 past Elizabeth)

“Rows and rows of the most beautiful hanging baskets and the heady aroma of petunias…enough to make you swoon!”

As we were on our way home, I asked Mr. FixIt to drop me off at the little quilt shop that opened this winter. I have decided to make my daughter and her fiancée a quilt for their wedding gift. I can sew it when I’m with the Girl Campers next week. It’s just going to be quick with 9.5” squares in shades of purple and green…their colors for the wedding.

“Moss baskets add a lovely texture”

I have to tell you…I felt so much better yesterday. We watched the evening news last night and they said I-70 from Pittsburg to St. Louis is going to be under severe weather warnings and that’s exactly where we would have been today if I hadn’t listened to that still, small voice guiding me to stay home.

I worked on the camper this afternoon and have it about two-thirds ready. The issues with the propane and the water heater won’t be fixed before I go, but it’s going to be fine. I have dry-camped many, many times. I have electric at my site and a microwave. I can heat up water that way and wash my hair and “bathe”.

It was really hot and humid here yesterday but we are expecting thunderstorms the next couple of days. It was 89 degrees here yesterday afternoon! May can still have some chilly days so I don’t think we’ve hit “summer” weather yet. But, my oh my….it is SO beautiful here this time of year!

❤️

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;” Proverbs 3:5 NIV

Uncle!

Wed, 01 May 2019 01:30:16 -0600

“When you’re tired and overwhelmed, it’s ok to say Uncle!”

Every day since we got home from the beach has been packed full. Long hours of mowing thick, wet grass. Unpacking. Cleaning. Finally, we had to split the chores yesterday and Mr. FixIt went to the farm to mow while I worked on de-winterizing the camper. First, I filled the freshwater tank and added a little bleach to sanitize it. Then I went in and turned on the pump. It’s supposed to run a little bit, build up pressure, then shut itself off. It didn’t. As I stood in front of the kitchen sink, listening as a pitiful stream of water came from the faucet, I could hear water splashing outside.

I went out and around the camper and there was water coming out of the water heater compartment. I opened it up and saw the plug was an old type and it was rusted through. Not a good sign. I was told the camper had been fully inspected two years ago and everything worked fine. And, while I should have taken the camper to someone to have it inspected again, I trusted mine and Mr. FixIt’s camper knowledge. Besides, it was very difficult to really get in and have a look at the inner workings in the driveway where it was parked. I don’t think the previous owner was trying to scam me. I just don’t think she used the service systems because she only took it out three or four times to sleep over at horse shows.

I knew there was nothing I could do without getting a new plug. I towed the camper to an RV service center and the guy was kind enough to stop what he was doing and put a plug in. Then he proceeded to have a look around the camper and started telling me all the things that were wrong with it and made me feel generally inept and stupid. One thing he pointed out, which I hadn’t noticed was…the tires were seven years old. Even if the tread looks good and there’s no evidence of dry rot, you really shouldn’t run a trailer on tires over five years old.

My next stop was a local tire shop owned by a woman. I’ve talked with her before and I’m so impressed that she built this business from scratch. I got four trailer tires for $65 each, mounted and balanced. Then I drove to a rest area with a dump station to empty and clean the waste tanks. A camper has two waste tanks on it…”grey water” from the sinks and shower and “black water” from the toilet. That wasn’t much of a chore as they had been emptied previously. They just needed a good flushing.

Once I was finished with the tanks, I tried turning the pump on and it still wouldn’t build up pressure and shut off. That means the system isn’t sealed and there’s a leak somewhere. I didn’t see water anywhere and there was nothing dripping. By this point, I was tired, hungry, and pretty darned frustrated. I kept telling myself I’d bought a piece of junk camper and I was pretty low by the time I got home.

Mr. FixIt called. I poured out all my fears and frustrations and he asked me to tell him one thing at a time. He said they were all fairly small things and relatively easy to fix. At the most, I may need a new hot water heater, a water pump, and new propane regulator. He said I didn’t buy a piece of junk, but it is twelve years old. There are bound to be some things that will need fixing.

I got home and walked in the door. There is still a toilet, a sink, and half a shower stall in my living room. I suddenly felt defeated and sat down to think it through. When I made arrangements to attend my niece’s graduation in Indiana, I didn’t realized how tight I had planned these three trips. Four days between the first and second trip and only one day between the second and third. It took us three full days just to mow both properties. How was I possibly going to pull this off?

I prayed about it for a while and talked with Mr. FixIt again and two of my trusted friends and they all said…set some priorities…get some rest…it’s ok to say no. I hated the idea of cancelling the Indiana trip. I hate missing my niece’s graduation and getting to see her family. And, I hate disappointing anyone. But, you know what? I’m not thirty-five anymore. I’m not fifty-five anymore. I’m nearly sixty-six and while, in many ways that is still young, I have to admit to myself I can’t do it all. I get tired easier. I get overwhelmed easier. I’ve noticed this since losing Mr. Virgo.

So, I wrote a long note and sent it to my niece and her mom. I explained why we couldn’t come and while they will miss us, they understand. I immediately felt a weight lift off my shoulders and I cried with relief. It’s ok to cry “Uncle!” I turned on the air conditioning, crawled under a blanket, and rested…for the first time in weeks, it seems.

❤️

““Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”” Matthew 11:28-30 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

A Good Tired

Wed, 17 Apr 2019 01:30:15 -0600

“Spring flowers make my heart sing!”

Now that the taxes are done, submitted, and accepted, our attention can turn to other things….mainly, mowing. With the rains we received over the weekend, the grass growth was remarkable and it couldn’t be put off another day. We had a neighbor brush hog the far field last fall when we were preparing for the wedding. That field is really rough and needs to be mowed really regularly or we’ll have to resort to the brush hog again. I got about half the field mowed at the Ponderosa then we had to head for the farm. Mr. FixIt mowed while I hauled dropped limbs and did laundry. It was 7:30 by the time we were done and ready to head back home.

This is the kind of tired that feels good. When you do a good solid day’s work and you have something to show for it. When your muscles are sore and you’re hungry and you know you’re going to sleep soundly…that’s a good day’s work. We still have much to do to prepare for our trip but once we are there…it’s beach time, baby. I can’t wait to see Ben & Sue…my son-in-law’s parents. They are joining us for the week and it’s going to be SO much fun. They are the dearest people and we can’t wait to show them all around the Outer Banks!

I do have a favor of you. I have an appointment with the orthopedist today for this pain I have in my foot. I think it’s a Morton’s Neuroma and if so, I will likely need a shot in the ball of my foot, which…as you can well imagine…I am not looking forward to. I am preparing myself with lots of prayers and meditation. Please add me to your prayer list that everything goes smoothly, the pain is little to nonexistent, and that whatever they do, it takes care of the pain and I can get back to exercising regularly! Thank you in advance!!!

I’ll let you know how it went!

❤️

“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

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

Ommmmmmmmm.......

Fri, 12 Apr 2019 01:30:49 -0600

“Trust me…I did NOT look this peaceful and serene this week working on my banking!”

I looked for a photo of someone working on her computer looking so peaceful and serene. Because, that has definitely NOT been me this week! Ok, seriously…I feel like I could reach back in the archives of any of the past six years, pull out a post for the week before taxes are due, and it would be the same darned story. Over and over and over. I wait till the last minute to reconcile my bank account. Yes…in the good old days when I didn’t have grief brain, I balanced it every month…to the penny. Now? Well, lets just say this year was better. I balanced it up till the end of July. The rest I had to download. And…my bank only keeps three months worth of statements in the accessible pipeline. Anything before that and you have to do a manual download which I have discovered may or may not be totally accurate. Not the program’s fault…it’s the operator.

I am not sure what I did wrong but my guess is I duplicated some entries and I was off by a country mile. In the past, this would have bugged the heck out of me and I would have spent an inordinate amount of time combing through every detail till I found the problem. And, if time wasn’t a factor, maybe I would do that. But it’s not like I’m keeping the national treasury balanced. My main purpose for using Quicken is to run expense reports for taxes. It’s not rocket science. I held my breath and created an audit. I go by my bank balance anyway, so I just balanced it to that and called it good.

This wasn’t accomplished without a fair amount of hair-pulling and choice words because in the middle of things, the internet stopped working at the house. I didn’t have enough time to go back out to the farm and used the excruciatingly slow internet there, so I packed up my laptop and headed for Panera. I got a good salad, sat down, connected to the internet and ran a scan on their wireless to detect anything fishy. It came up clean so I scooted into my account, did the magic, and was back out in less than a minute. Easy peasy.

Next stop was Sam’s club to pick up a copy of this year’s TurboTax. I freaked out a little when I couldn’t find any and was afraid it might be sold out but they had some copies at the service desk. TurboTax has this really neat thing where you can do your taxes online and just pay for the tax program when you’re finished. The thing is, it was about $30 more to do it that way. You have to pay attention…these guys are tricky!

So, the banking is done. Now all we have to do is plug in the numbers and see where we stand. Married filing jointly? Married filing separately? We’ll just have to see how it plays out. I’m just so blessed to have the choice.

❤️

“Tell us then, what is your opinion? Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not?” But Jesus, knowing their evil intent, said, “You hypocrites, why are you trying to trap me? Show me the coin used for paying the tax.” They brought him a denarius, and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?” “Caesar’s,” they replied. Then he said to them, “So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”” Matthew 22:17-21 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

A Mission of Mercy

Tue, 09 Apr 2019 01:30:07 -0600

“On a road trip to pick up an old camper…the flowering trees were stunning!”

Last week, my friend Barb was visiting from Alaska. A bunch of our classmates got together for coffee. Barb had the sniffles and said she thought she was allergic to the cat and the dust from having her house closed up for so many months. But, it turns out, our poor friend had Influenza A. So far, we are all fine. She is a nurse and was quite careful in how she interacted with people.

At the coffee, she reminded me that she still has a big camper in her back yard and if I would just please come get it, I could have it. Well, who turns down a free camper, right? Mr. FixIt and I went on a little road trip yesterday that turned into an all day extravaganza. (The flowering trees were AMAZING!) First, we had to take the title to the State Police barracks to get a single use tow permit. The closest place was the next city over.

When we got back, we went around to see the camper and start figuring out how to get it out of her back yard. I would love to have been a fly on the wall and watch her husband back that thing in there. The back yard is accessible from the alley. On the other side of the alley is a parking lot for the Head Start on the next street over. It was so obvious we weren’t going anywhere till the employees at the school left for the day.

We decided to go back over to the next town. As we were driving, I realized we were just a couple of streets away from my dad’s house so I asked Mr. FixIt to turn down his street. We drove down the street slowly and at first I was puzzled. I thought maybe I had the street wrong, so I looked at the sign. No…this was Mulberry. I turned around and it hit me….they had torn down his house!

I have no idea why, but that hit me in the gut and I almost threw up. It was so unexpected. The only time anything like that has happened to me before was when I had been away from WV for quite some time and walked up on the top of the hill. I had not known my uncle had much of the land timbered up there and the starkness of change gripped me in the same way as my father’s missing house.

It took me quite some time through the afternoon to process that. I brushed it off as my diet, or not having enough protein for breakfast. Later, when we got home, I went off by myself in my little camper and cogitated quietly. Change. Sometimes we sweep it under the rug. I can’t do that anymore. I have to chew on it for a while till I can swallow.

But, back to the task at hand. We browsed an antique store then headed to Walmart. I’ve been wanting to buy Mr. FixIt a portable tire inflator for his truck for quite some time. Pulling a camper with older tires on it seemed like the perfect opportunity to have a little 12v air compressor handy. We also picked up some sandwich fixings and had a picnic in the truck as we watched it rain.

We called the Head Start to find out when the employees would be gone and headed back to Barb’s house by 4:00. The camper was squeezed in between a chain link fence and a building with a foot on each side. Hooking up was easy and it only took three tries to get it out without damaging anything. We drove straight to a service station and pumped up the tires. We walked around and gave it a good safety check. I felt the hubs and they were not hot. The tires didn’t look dry rotted. The rear lights worked as did the flashers and the turn signals. We adjusted the brakes and the weight distribution hitch and headed home.

We drove slowly and got home long before dark. Once we decided where to park the camper, we unhitched and gave the camper a good look inside. It is not in good shape. It has had a leak for quite some time and the ceiling sags in a couple of spots. It’s a 2002 and when it was new, it was a really high end camper. Unfortunately, she isn’t a candidate for really fixing up. We were hoping we could make her road worthy for someone to really use. We have decided to give her a good cleaning, inside and out, and then I’m sure she will make someone an excellent hunting cabin. All they’ll have to do is seal the leaks in the roof.

So, we did our good deed. We helped my friend lighten her load and give her one less thing to worry about during her short visit home. It took nothing more than a little time and half a tank of gas.

Now…my dad’s house being gone? I’m still processing that.

❤️

“Our people must learn to devote themselves to doing what is good, in order to provide for urgent needs and not live unproductive lives.” Titus 3:14 NIV

Renovations

Thu, 04 Apr 2019 01:30:42 -0600

“There’s something about vintage kitchens that speaks to my heart.”

I came across this picture on Pinterest the other day. I don’t…CAN’T…spend as much time on Pinterest as I would like to. I have too many irons in the fire right now and I know what a black hole Pinterest is. It’s a candy store for creatives and I get SO lost. I pop in there every day because I get notifications. Almost always, there’s something on my landing page that I might pin if it’s an idea I’m working on, thinking maybe there WILL be a time when I can be a bit more leisurely. I look at my notifications, then I’m out of there…1-2 minutes, tops.

The reason this particular picture grabbed my attention was a memory. Hubby #2 and I moved into our first house a couple of blocks from the medical school and this cabinet, and one just like it on the opposite wall, was in our kitchen. It formed a walkway into the breakfast nook where you sat in front of a big picture window.

The view out the window was unremarkable, but that kitchen was one of the coolest in any house I’ve ever lived in. It was big and roomy with tons of storage space. It had a window over the kitchen sink which is always a must have for me. To this day, I cannot remember if the countertops were red or green…but I definitely remember that vintage style. It spoke to me…even as a young woman.

You don’t find vintage kitchens like this much anymore. We are a throw away society with a newer is better attitude. The young wives of the ‘80s wanted new and better and hopefully not avocado green or harvest gold or that hideous brown copper toned color. No offense…if that’s what you have or what you love, but it was an affront to my sensibilities then and it remains so today. There is NOTHING nostalgic about that for me.

Speaking of renovations, we are still in the throes of redoing master bath at the Ponderosa. I have never been married to a man that could fix or build anything. Seriously, if anything got built or renovated or decorated, it was my doing. I’m the one with the power tools. Well, I was. They all were stolen when someone broke into my storage unit and broke my heart. Mr. FixIt knows how to do everything. He didn’t get his name for nuthin’.

Here’s the thing. When I fixed up my mom’s house to put it on the market, I did the entire house myself except for installing the kitchen cabinets, connecting the gas for the new range, and updating the electrical service to the house. I tore the kitchen out to the walls and did it all…set the sink, installed a garbage disposal, new GFI outlets, plumbing, laminate flooring, under cabinet lighting, tiled the backsplash and entryway, coped the baseboards and quarter-round molding. I also refinished the hardwood floors, switched out all the ceiling light fixtures, put in a new doorbell and doors and storm doors, painted the entire inside, changed out the bathroom fixtures, tore the entire floor out and installed a subfloor, underpayment and linoleum, new baseboards and quarter round, a new toilet, took out the old medicine cabinet and installed a new mirror and lights and tiled the backsplash.

In other words…I know my way around a renovation project.

The thing is…I probably didn’t know enough to be intimidated. I just did it. And if I didn’t know how to do something or what tool I needed to do it with, I just consulted the knowledgeable staff at Lowes or read one of my helpful how-to books. I wasn’t picky. If it looked good, that was my bottom line. I thought it turned out great. Anyone who saw it thought it turned out great. And…I did the whole thing in about 4 months…by myself, for the most part.

Then I married “The Man With The Engineer’s Brain”.

Have you ever asked a man with an engineer’s brain to do something? They will do it. Perfectly. Absolutely perfectly. They will spend an inordinate amount of time drawing up plans…perhaps even doing so on a CAD program on the computer than costs more than the budget of small countries. They will print out the plans and study them and make notes. Then they will go back in and edit said plans. Then…once they are satisfied with the design, they will start the shopping process. The frugal engineer will have his/her supplies mapped out and listed by store according to price. This you will buy here. That you will buy there. All in good time.

Finally, the work begins. There will be measuring sessions. That will last a totally unpredictable amount of time. More notes will be taken and perhaps the CAD plans will be altered and reprinted. The flooring alone took several weeks. In a bathroom half the size of a good walk-in closet. Then there came the drywall. The patching. The sanding. The next coat of patching material. The second sanding. The third coat of patching material and the necessary sanding. Then came the painting. First the ceiling. Two coats. Then the walls. At least two coats.

I came in to see how it was going after the second coat of paint dried and Mr. FixIt was sanding…again.

“What on earth are you doing???”

“I didn’t like the way that looked. I don’t like satin paint. You can never get it to look good. I’m fixing this spot.”

“Cool. I’m going back out to the camper write now. Love you!”

Now we are at the point where we are installing the shower. He measured and calculated and remeasured and recalculated many times and finally…finally…we went to buy the fiberglass shower stall on Monday. That thing weighed a ton. We had to take it apart in order to get it in the house. Once inside, we took the protective coverings off and it was not only scratched, but it had several cracks in the fiberglass surface. So, we had to cart it back outside, put it all back together, and take it back to the store to exchange it. Once home, we had to take it apart again to get it in the house. Thank GOD it didn’t have any cracks because I just might have said a few choice words.

I could have had this bathroom done in two…three weeks tops. But I can guarantee you, it would not look nearly as perfect as the bathroom Mr. FixIt is building. I’m more of an instant gratification kind of gal so this has been a real learning opportunity for me in patience and appreciation. It’s coming along though. It’s definitely coming along.

❤️

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”
Romans 12:12 NIV

Cue the Eye Roll

Wed, 03 Apr 2019 01:30:40 -0600

“The eye roll…reserved for those moments when a whop over the head with a frying pan might be overkill.”

I posted a request on four different Facebook pages on Monday. Here…I’ll just cut and paste it so you can see what I’m talking about.

“Ok…I have a 30’ camper. The reason I went big was because I traveled FT and lived in it for most of three years. My original truck was an F-150 V6 EcoBoost with a 3.73 rear axle ratio. It would pull that camper up the passes of Colorado like nobody’s business. Two years ago, my truck was totaled in an accident. The replacement truck was identical in every way save for a 3.31 rear axle ratio. In my defense, I had a head injury and wasn’t thinking straight when I bought it. Needless to say, pulling on the flat is ok, but the mountain passes were crazy. I couldn’t get up to 20mph and had to stop several times to let the transmission cool down. I am now in a position to buy a new truck. Here is my dilemma. Finding an F-150 with a rear axle ratio of 3.73 is turning out to be like looking for a needle in a haystack. I have several options. I have settled down in WV and remarried and I don’t need such a big camper. I can downsize the camper. Then I don’t need as powerful a truck. Or, I can get out of my lane and buy a different truck. I really have to watch my mpg because this is my primary vehicle. Thanks in advance for your input…I appreciate it!”

Pretty innocent. I posted it on two women-only camping pages, a family camping page, and a page that seems to be largely frequented by men that deals with RV Tips & Hints. I sat back and watched the comments flow and suddenly I was struck by a huge difference between the gals’ answers and the guys’. The gals were informative and supportive and respectful. The guys? Well, you could just almost SEE them spitting and scratching places that shouldn’t be scratched in public.

There was a lot of jockeying for position between the men. Lots of “right on, bro” kinda stuff. One of the responses that had me in stitches was from a guy I’ll call Bob. Bob started out nice enough. He pointed out asking a question like this to 1,000 people would give me 1,000 different opinions. He wasn’t far off. His advice was to weigh my options…(Ummmmm, I think that’s what I’m asking y’all for, Bob…), seek my own council…(Wait a minute? Are you telling me to stop asking the question, Bob? I’m confused…), and evaluate what I think my needs might be in five years (Thank you for having faith that I’ll still be camping like this in five years, Bob. You’re a peach!). This is where Bob kind of went off the rails on me when he added…”and, what your new wife enjoys.”

Wait…did Bob just suggest what I THINK he suggested?

See…our good friend Bob here assumed that if I am towing a 30’ camper across the country by myself, I must be a Lesbian. Or maybe he didn’t pay attention to who wrote the post and assumed I was a man who had just gotten married. Because, you know, a WOMAN wouldn’t/couldn’t/shouldn’t tow a 30’ camper…by herself…all over the country…for three years. I wrote back and said, “You must be talking about my husband, Bob. ? See…I’m the gal. I’m the one who towed the 30’ camper back and forth across the country for three years. I’m uber handy that way. ?”

(Cue the eye roll. ?)

Bob, Bob, Bob…girls can do things without gender or sexual orientation being a part of it. Girls can tow campers…BIG campers. They can back them up into teeny tiny little spaces, too. Girls can do just about anything guys can do. I went into a car dealership yesterday and test drove a truck. The sales person was a woman named Megan. Megan had been on the job for eight months. I asked if she loved her job, she gleefully said “Yes! But oh….the guys hate it! They don’t like having a woman in their space all the time.” I gave her a high five.

Show ‘em what you’re made of, Megan!

❤️

“The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.” Proverbs 14:1 NIV

Sick & Tired

Tue, 02 Apr 2019 01:30:17 -0600

“Can’t we all just get along?”

Those of you who have been reading my blog for some time know that, even in my grief, I’m a pretty upbeat individual. Mr. Virgo used to call me Pollyanna because I always look on the sunny side of life. I objected saying there’s nothing wrong with looking for the light, even in the darkest situations…as long as you don’t stick your head in the sand. I think I keep a weather eye out for the realities of the world while still trying to look on the bright side.

I’ve gotta tell ya…and this is in NO WAY a political post…but, I’m just sick and tired of hearing all the ugliness these days. I keep looking for the God-spark in everyone and dang if it isn’t disheartening sometimes. I read something yesterday that punched me in the gut. Teachers can no longer teach kids the way we were taught. Because, the world we were raised for no longer exists. We didn’t have a TV till I was in school. Countries on the other side of the world were nothing but stories in the encyclopedia. We didn’t have indoor plumbing at my grandma’s house till I was in first grade. We went from that to landing a man on the moon by the time I was in high school. To think the computer onboard an Apollo spacecraft was far, far less sophisticated than a Blackberry…and they are archaic in the grand scheme of things.

Between the Information Age, readily accessible electronics, and Joe Public’s thirst for all things that would have been cringeworthy a decade or two ago, we are bombarded with violence. When I grew up, coverage of the Vietnam War and shoot-em-up Westerns were about as violent and graphic as anything you would likely witness unless you saw a terrible accident. You can’t put smoke back in a bottle. Once you see this stuff, it’s in your brain…and in your heart.

Mr. FixIt and I had to run to town yesterday to get the shower insert for the new bathroom. As I was gathering my things to leave, he asked me to watch a story from CBS Sunday Morning. It was about Sandy and Lonnie Phillips. Their daughter was one of the victims in the 2012 mass shooting in the movie theater in Aurora, CO. She was with a friend who was an EMS. He was shot twice and he did everything he could to save her, but he couldn’t.

As I watched this story, my heart broke for all of them. I know grief. But I know nothing of the grief that comes with violence. Instead of climbing into the never ending hole of horror, they chose to help other victims of mass shootings. They’ve rented their house out, quit their jobs, sold everything they owned, and travel from place to place pulling a travel trailer….following the shootings. They started in Newtown, then went to Isla Vista, San Bernardino, Orlando, Las Vegas, Sutherland Springs, Parkland, Santa Fe, Pittsburg and Thousand Oaks. The equivalent of a soldier with PTSD running into firefight after firefight after bloody firefight with no end in sight.

It brings them no joy. They still cry every day out of sadness and pain and it’s been seven years since their daughter was murdered. But they do find satisfaction in helping others who are coming up the same path behind them. They are able to hang onto each other and offer comfort to others while being bombarded by conspiracy theorists who verbally threaten and harass them. Their super power is compassion.

My soul is tired. My brain is bruised. My heart is weary. “I can do hard things.” But…in reality, can I? Could I do what the Phillips’ are doing? Could I survive such horrors? I think I couldn’t, but I know God could. I know I had to rely on Him to carry me through Mr. Virgo’s death so I have no reason to believe He won’t carry me through everything that comes to me in this life.

I’m just so tired of all the anger, hatred, ugliness, violence, pain, depravity. I cling to the joy and hope I find in my faith. I pray for this world. I pray for wisdom. I pray for peace. I pray for strength to get through a time that numbs me. I don’t want to be numb. I want to always, always, always look for the light. Find the good. Encourage the downtrodden. Shine a light in the darkness. See, here’s the thing…there are a lot more good people on this earth than the media will lead you to believe.

Look for the light. Look for the helpers. Yes, I get weary…I just can’t quit.

So, I press on. I go outside and put my bare feet on the earth to ground myself. I feel the wind on my face. I close my eyes and turn my face to the sun. I hug people…a lot. It’s the best gift I can give them because I can’t help but get a hug in return.

If all of these things bother you, too…turn off the TV. Put down the newspaper. Go outside. Nature heals.

❤️

“Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. For, “Whoever would love life and see good days must keep their tongue from evil and their lips from deceitful speech. They must turn from evil and do good; they must seek peace and pursue it. For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.”” 1 Peter 3:9-12 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

Getting Healthy

Sat, 30 Mar 2019 01:30:01 -0600

“It’s time to get healthy with AdvoCare’s 24 Day Challenge!”

I went to the doctor last week for bronchitis and had to do that thing I’ve dreaded the most…I had to step on a scale! I haven’t weighed myself in ages…mostly because I just find it so demoralizing. I am past the caring what others think of me thing. However, I do still care what I think of myself. I don’t feel healthy when I weigh this much. My feet hurt. My bladder leaks. My acid reflux is abysmal. The whole thing makes me pretty darned cranky.

Unfortunately, I’ve had to take steroids twice in the last six months and that wreaks havoc on my weight. However, I can’t just blame this weight gain on medications. Writing this book kept me sequestered in my camper for the last two months. And when I write, I nibble and nosh without thinking much about it. Winter brings the blahs and comfort food gets me in trouble in a hurry.

It’s time to do something about it. I did check into a weight loss program that a friend of mine is one. She has had a dramatic weight loss and looks wonderful, but her program is $400 a month and that is unreasonable for someone on a fixed income. I have decided to do what worked for me last time and just ordered the Advocare 24 Day Challenge. It’s time. It’s not too terribly expensive and if you work it, it really gives me that jump start I need to get me going. If any of you are interested in doing it with me, you can send me a private message and I can send you the link to purchase what you need. If you followed along with me three years ago, you saw what a difference it made.

It’s a new season. I need to stay active and physically fit so I can maintain my fun girl camper lifestyle! I’m going to be 66 this summer…it’s time to really take serious control of my health!

❤️

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.”
1 Corinthians 9:24-27 NIV

Cha-Ching!

Thu, 28 Mar 2019 01:30:21 -0600

“There’s an old saying…Watch your pennies and your dollars will watch themselves. I hate when I get caught paying more for something than I should have. I feel robbed!”

I’m really careful with my money these days. I wasn’t always. I hate to admit it, but I was a spoiled princess and I really didn’t pay much attention to how much things cost. If I wanted/needed something, I just bought it. I didn’t pay much mind to grades of quality other than to buy the best I could afford. I still adhere to that somewhat, because I firmly believe you usually get what you pay for. I am much more accommodating when it comes to sacrificing a little bit of quality for a good savings. I also hate to admit, I’m learning most of this from Mr. FixIt. He’s a frugal man and, while I have gotten him to spring for a little better quality sometimes, he has done a wonderful job in teaching me to pay attention to prices.

I went out yesterday to pay my property taxes and get my tags for my truck for another year. It really chaps my hide that I pay taxes on my earnings, then I pay taxes on what I buy, and ultimately I pay personal property taxes on those items I purchased just so I can own them. In West Virginia, in order to get your tags on your vehicle every year, you have to pay your personal property taxes. You pay on the vehicle you owned in June two years prior. I owned a 2011 Ford F-150 pickup truck and my 2015 camper. My taxes and tags were a little over $800.

Mr. FixIt and I were having dinner last night when I told him how much my tax bill was. He thought that was a little high so he went and got his. Now, he pays for two vehicles, two campers, and a utility trailer. Granted they are a little older than mine, but all five of his totaled less than what I paid, so I had to dig in and figure out why.

It turns out, I have been using my post office box as my address, even though I physically live in a different county. If I would have changed my address to Mr. FixIt’s house, my taxes would have been at least $250 less! It never even occurred to me there would be that much of a difference. And, now that it’s been paid, I can’t do anything about it. But, trust me, I’m changing my address ASAP. This is just another lesson for widows to check on these things. If Mr. FixIt would have been with me, he would have noticed the taxes seemed high and we could have investigated. And, if it weren’t for him, I never would have known about this.

The upside, if there is such a thing as an upside in spending $250 more than you needed to, some of that money went for a school bond in the little town I grew up in. So, I’ll just look at is as a non-tax-deductible contribution to the betterment of my old hometown. They’re on their own next year!

❤️

“Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed.”
Proverbs 15:22 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

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

From Wounded to Awakened

Wed, 20 Mar 2019 01:30:19 -0600

“Awakened Women know from whence they came. Overcoming brokenness takes a great deal of hard work and patience.”

It would probably be safe to say most of us have been wounded in one way or another in our lives. You don’t get to 65 without some bumps and bruises. I spent so much of my adult life as one of the walking wounded. Growing up with an alcoholic father, being subjected to sexual abuse, experiencing brutality at the hands of a teacher, and getting the pee scared out of me by a traveling preacher were the foundation of fear that wounded my little girl psyche. That led me down a path of self destruction that nearly ended my life.

Kathy, my small group leader, posted this meme in our group chat yesterday. When you are the wounded woman who has become awakened, you don’t always understand the significance of the steps involved to heal. It’s easier when you watch others achieve their own healing. That’s when you understand just how far you’ve come. In other words, sometimes you really don’t get something till you see it in black and white.

I was sitting with Mr. FixIt at breakfast yesterday when I saw this meme. I had just been talking to him the other night about how different I feel with him than with any other person I’ve been with. I am totally at home. Comfortable in my own skin.

“You see the list on the left?” I said. “That was me before Mr. Virgo. Actually, I was still a little bit like that while I was married to him. But now? Now I’m firmly planted in the list on the right. You didn’t do that. I didn’t do that. GOD did that. Ok…I had to choose God first. Then I had to ask him to fix me. But HE’S the one that did the fixing. He’s the one who sent the right therapists, the right doctor. He’s the one who gave me the courage to find my voice.”

He “gets” me. He’s the one who gets to reap the rewards of my awakening. I remember back when I was separated from Hubby #2. I knew he had this good, kind, gently, emotive man inside him. He knew I had the potential to embrace everything in the list on the right. We just couldn’t bring those things out in each other. We needed to go through what we went through to become who we are.

Our daughter is getting married in August. Mr. FixIt and I will be attending the wedding being held at my ex’s somewhat palatial estate. I’ve never been there but I’ve seen pictures. The “me” that used to live in the left hand list would walk into that house feeling less than…unworthy…apologetic…falling all over myself to make a good impression, to look a certain way, to act a certain way in order to gain approval. The woman I have become is awakened. I know my value. It doesn’t come from anything…or anyone…earthly. I needn’t apologize for anything. I speak gently to myself.

I have to admit…the first time I saw a picture of my ex’s house, I burned with envy. For just a moment. The thought was, ‘That should have been MY house!’ Which was immediately followed by, ‘Yes, dear one…but HE comes with that house.’ There’s definitely a reason we aren’t together. We are both much better off apart.

This has been a long….LONG time coming. And, I’m finally…finally…finally there. ❤️

“for the light makes everything visible. This is why it is said, “Awake, O sleeper, rise up from the dead, and Christ will give you light.””
Ephesians 5:14 NLT

A Visit From Aunt Flo

Tue, 19 Mar 2019 01:30:00 -0600

“Ahhhh, the vagaries of youth…some I miss, most I don’t!”

So, here’s a topic we’ve never delved into…that dreaded part of being a woman during her reproductive years. Yes…that monthly visit from Aunt Flo. I can tell you this, when I had a total hysterectomy in 1994, I was tickled as all get out to get rid of that monster. Unfortunately, it was immediately replaced with a rampant case of “InstaPause”…full on menopause symptoms felt all at once when I came out of anesthesia. None of that slip-sliding into the quasi psychotic stages of hot flashes, weight gain, depression, anxiety, and hair growing out of places where hair should NEVER grow on a woman. Noooooo….I dove head first into that lovely mess. The only good part about the whole thing was saying goodbye to Aunt Flo for good!

One of my readers passed this on to me yesterday and I had to share it with you. OMGosh! I laughed till I cried, so of course, I have to share it with you. I SO know you can relate!

“This is an “actual letter” from an Austin, Texas woman sent to Proctor and Gamble regarding one of their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. This was PC Magazine’s 2009 Editors’ Choice award-winner for the best letter sent via e-mail.

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your ‘Always’ maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the Leak Guard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I’d probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I’d certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts.

But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic I can’t tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there’s a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? I’m guessing you haven’t. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I’ll be transformed into what my husband likes to call ‘an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.’

Isn’t the human body amazing?

As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you’ve no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customer’s monthly visits from ‘Aunt Flo’. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it’s a tough time for most women.

The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants. Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words:

‘Have a Happy Period.’

Are you f—— kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable?

Well, did it, James?

FYI, unless you’re some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything ‘happy’ about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don’t march down to the local Walgreen’s armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory. For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn’t it make more sense to say something that’s actually pertinent, like ‘Put down the Hammer’ or ‘Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong’.

Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullsh!t. And that’s a promise I will keep.

Always. . …

Wendi Aarons - Austin , TX”

If you are still getting visits from your Aunt Flo, my sympathies to you. Lord, I surely don’t miss those days! ❤️

“A wise woman builds her home, but a foolish woman tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 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

Springtime in WV

Wed, 13 Mar 2019 01:30:24 -0600

“It’s getting to be springtime in West Virginia!”

Ok, it isn’t officially Spring for another week, but this is one of the biggest reasons I love living in my home state. Spring comes early here. It wasn’t incredibly warm here yesterday…low 50’s…but the sun was shining and it was a perfect springlike day. As you know, yesterday was Mr. Virgo’s Angelversary and I came to the farm for a couple of days. I drank great coffee. I ate yummy chocolate hearts. And it essentially gave myself a day of rest and self-care.

We need days like that sometimes. I woke up and did my Bible study. Read my devotional. My heart was warmed by your loving and supportive responses to my blog post yesterday. As the clock crept toward the hour of his demise, I thought of Mr. Virgo. I wondered how different my life would be now if he hadn’t died. While no one would choose for their loved one to die, I cannot imagine my life without Mr. FixIt now.

I can’t conjure up that pain anymore. It’s like childbirth…if you could actually imagine it, you’d never have a second child. I know it was terrible. I remember my reactions to it. I know how hard it was. But I cannot feel that pain anymore. My question yesterday that I kept circling around to was this…I wonder what yesterday would have been like if my path hadn’t crossed Mr. FixIt’s? I know having someone special in my life makes it easier to face the difficult moments.

The fact that yesterday was a beautiful day helped immensely. Colorado and the Midwest is preparing for a mega storm today. And I’ve got to tell you…other than missing my Colorado family immensely, I am not sorry I moved away when I see storm after storm pile snow up higher than most people are tall.

If you’re out there and you are facing yet another winter storm today, I’ll send you some love and light. My daughter shared this footage from Ouray, CO. Red Mountain Pass is closed from dozens of avalanches with 60’ snow and debris fields on the highway. When we lived in Pagosa Springs in Southern Colorado in the winter of 2008-2009, we had 7’ of snow in two weeks. There were little mountain towns like Creede and Lake City that were totally cutoff from the outside world. They had to drop food and supplies via helicopter. At least Ouray still has the northern route in and out of town open so they have access.

Be safe out there, people. Stay in if you can. ❤️

https://www.kob.com/new-mexico-news/snow-strands-people-in-ouray-colorado/5275384/

“I will send you the seasonal rains. The land will then yield its crops, and the trees of the field will produce their fruit.” Leviticus 26:4 NLT

Angelversary

Tue, 12 Mar 2019 01:30:19 -0600

“Remembering Mr. Virgo”

Last year, I removed the date of Mr. Virgo’s death from my calendar so I would no longer receive reminders on my phone. After all, I’m not likely to forget such an event as that anyway. I do have a hard time remembering the exact date of my mom’s death and my grandma’s and my dad’s. I know approximately when they occurred but I have to look it up if I need to know the exact date. Not so with Mr. Virgo’s. I’ll never forget that…or him.

It was six years ago today that we set out to buy the travel trailer to take us into retirement. It was a beautiful sunny day with a hint of spring and we had everything to look forward to. Although I had been having premonitions all week, it was still a shock when he died so suddenly.

This was something I didn’t believe I could recover from. I swore to my girls that I would never, ever get married again because I couldn’t go through this a second time. Yet, here we are…six years down the road and I’m married again…to an equally wonderful man. I’ve been blessed with good men in my life.

My friend Deneene lost her husband in March a few years after me. I began to mentor her through the widow experience when she was going through a particularly rough patch. We don’t get to see each other much anymore as she has moved to South Carolina with her new love. We connect frequently via chat and yesterday, she sent a note telling me she was thinking of me and the angelversary of Mr. Virgo’s death. She asked how I was going to commemorate this day. Last year, when I removed the alarm from my calendar, I thought five years was enough of that. I figured I wouldn’t want to do anything special anymore. But, once I thought about it, I decided I was wrong. Time doesn’t change the facts.

It’s interesting at this point to think of my marriage to Mr. Virgo. He has now been gone the same amount of time we were married. And, just because time has passed, and just because I’m crazy in love with Mr. FixIt and I’m happily married, doesn’t mean my love for this wonderful man I shared my life with has diminished. Daughter #2 called me yesterday and we talked for quite some time about this. When we lose someone so special, our hearts expand at some point. My heart is much, much bigger than it was when Mr. Virgo died. There are spaces there with the names of every person I have truly loved. Those spaces do not become smaller in order to allow room for other to come in. The vessel itself had to grow.

As time has passed after each loss, those spaces that remain from the love lost aren’t empty shells. I’ve filled them with love and memories like filling a beautiful vase with thousands of blooms…only these flowers will never die. There were times, especially with the divorces, that I held onto bitterness and anger, but those things did not serve me. Filling each space in my heart with love has been my saving grace.

I am so blessed to be married to such a wonderful man who does not expect me to clean house and rid myself of those spaces in my heart. I would never expect him to do so. If you have truly loved someone, no matter what the end result of the relationship, filling those rooms full of flowers can set you free.

So, I’m at the farm. I’m writing and drinking good coffee and eating chocolate hearts. And I’m counting all my blessings for a heart filled with blooms by remembering my life with a good, kind man. ❤️

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Psalm 73:26 NIV

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

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

As Winter Fades

Sun, 03 Mar 2019 02:30:21 -0600

“Winter is having a blast this weekend….but spring is around the corner!”

I should write a book every February. Sitting in TOW-Wanda for the entire month made the time fly by. I try to like winter. I try to have a happier outlook. And, it’s not even like we had a bad winter. It’s just not green. I like green. It’s not warm. I like warm.

I think maybe this winter was easier too because I took a cue from Mother Nature. God puts all the trees and flowers and grasses to sleep in the winter. He gives them a break. It’s a time to rest and regroup. I like that. I tried not to make it too slug-like and just sit for weeks on end doing nothing. I tried to keep busy with things. I didn’t keep my body as busy as I should have. But I sure kept my mind occupied. And that helped the time go by.

I have a love/hate relationship with March. I love that spring is just around the corner. I love seeing the buds and shoots on the trees. I love the bird songs I hear through the cracked window every morning. Each week brings new calls and I try to remember which bird is migrating through. I love when the grass starts to turn green and the peepers start their shrill chorus beyond the creek. We’ll have new fawns before long…little spotty babies hiding in the tall grasses while their mamas feed nearby.

I hate March because it’s the month Mr. Virgo died. I remember every day leading up to March 12th…as if it were yesterday. Just like we remember where we were when Kennedy was shot or Princess Diana died or the Twin Towers fell. We remember. Widows remember. Mothers remember. It’s imprinted in our brains forever. We remember what it looked like that day…the weather, the temperature, where we were, what we were doing, what we wore. We remember the moments leading up to the end. And we remember the end. That’s when things start getting fuzzy. That’s when the slide show starts. A picture here. An image there. A feeling.

All it takes is a sound. A smell. The way the sun glints through the window. And you’re there. It’s not bad like it once was. Early on it was brutal. It was too real…too soon…too fresh. Time has smoothed grief like a rushing river smooths the stones in a river bed. Many years ago, I walked Glenwood Canyon for exercise. During the peak of the spring runoff, you could stand on the bike path at the dam above Shoshone Power Station and hear…feel huge boulders being pushed along by the force of the water. You can’t see them, but you know they’re there. You sense the disturbance under the water. That’s how grief is now. I sense the disturbance below the surface, but if you look at me, you probably won’t notice anything different.

There is a scale…like the ones Lady Justice holds in her hand. The March of Spring vs. The March of Grief. The grief side used to be the heaviest and kept me way off balance. Now it’s even. It’s softer…out of focus…but I will always feel that undercurrent of the boulders hitting my soul. ❤️

“He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.”
Psalms 147:3 NLT

Sneaky Snake

Sat, 02 Mar 2019 07:27:55 -0600

“There are sneaky snakes in our midst!”

I have a helpful little app on my iPhone called Moment. It was designed by a guy who realized he was getting sucked into addiction to his smart phone and he didn’t like it. So, without any venture capital, he created this app and it’s doing very well. So well, in fact, he was contacted by the former president of Pinterest who offered him $7M for the app, with the stipulation they work together to try and save an entire generation from being Screen Zombies.

In my Bible study on Thursday night, we finished up Louie Giglio’s Book…Goliath Must Fall. The fifth giant we studied was that of addiction. When we think of addiction, our minds go to the obvious ones…drugs, alcohol, porn. Down the line we might think…shopping, relationships, food. While Louie did touch on those, he took it in a direction I wasn’t really expecting. He went for my iPhone. gasp

My phone and I are in a close, personal relationship. I’ve had a smartphone ever since that day I stood in line for six hours to buy the very first iPhone, only to have the lady in front of me get the last one they had in stock! I actually had to

W-A-I-T

One whole week before my journey to the dark side could begin. Oh…how amazing it all was. I remember when I bought our first personal computer. I justified it to Hubby #2 by saying our daughter needed it for school. But, it was clearly MY baby. The tech guy told me there would come a day when a computer 1,000 times more powerful that this one would be small enough to fit in a woman’s handbag. And now…here it was. A slick little handheld device with the world at my fingertips.

I’m here to admit…I’m addi….I’m addic….I use my phone…A LOT! I like to attribute a lot of that to my writing. And I’m sure that’s true. As I write my posts on my blog, I pick up my phone repeatedly to look things up, check the dictionary or Thesaurus, find and edit a photo. I browse the news two to three times a day. I check the obits. (Yes, I’m THAT age.) I send and receive texts multiple times a day. I seldom use it for…you know…making phone calls. I don’t browse Pinterest like I used to. I do post Tweets and Instagram photos for my blog’s social media accounts. Other than my blog, I spend far less time on Facebook than I used to.

There are two places I do spend a good amount of time. One is a word puzzle app called Word Crossy. I downloaded it after the neurologist recommended I do word games to help with my memory after the subdural hematoma I received in the car accident two years ago. I am happy to say, it has really helped. The other place I spend a good deal of time in is the YouVersion Bible app. I am currently doing The One Year Bible plan. I also read shorter Bible study plans alongside…sometimes with members of our small group. I read the Bible first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I also study as I search for scriptures to put in my posts.

An addiction is defined as the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma.

Uh-oh.

Try to take my phone…I dare ya!

To make myself feel better…or at least to enlighten me as to what LEVEL my electronic addiction has reached, I downloaded the Moment app. I am not at all surprised at the amount of screen time I racked up in the past week. You will be shocked, I am sure. I picked up my phone 165 times in the last week. I had 31h8m of screen time. I wrote 8-12 hours a day last week and, like I said…I use my phone a ton when I write. I just activated the feature that monitors what apps use up most of your screen time. As of last August, most people use Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, WhatsApp, and Snapchat…in that order. It will be interesting to see where most of my time is spent.

Addictions. They are sneaky little snakes that wind their way into and around our lives…stealing our time, stealing our joy, stealing God’s glory. This is a giant that MUST fall. ❤️

“You say, “I am allowed to do anything”—but not everything is good for you. And even though “I am allowed to do anything,” I must not become a slave to anything.”
1 Corinthians 6:12 NLT

Expect the Unexpected

Thu, 28 Feb 2019 02:30:24 -0600

“Unexpected things can be really, really good…or really, really bad. Anxiety can stem from the unexpected.”

My last small group gathering of the winter session is tonight. We’ve been studying Louie Giglio’s book…Goliath Must Fall. It is truly an amazing, insightful look into the giants we all face in life and how to get rid of them…once and for all. I hate to see this series end. I would like to do it all over again. At least I bought the book as well as the study guide, so I plan to read it again and again. I even have friends buying it and we can discuss it.

Our next season starts in April. We will be studying “Unexpected” by Christine Caine. The subtitle is “Leave Fear Behind, Move Forward in Faith, Embrace the Adventure”. Oooooooh, I love the sounds of that! I received the book and the study guide yesterday and it’s all I can do to keep from cracking it open already, but I want to keep my head in the game and finish what I started with Louie’s book first.

Seeing the title of the book yesterday did get my mind to thinking. Unexpected. That’s a double edged sword, isn’t it? I mean, we generally LOVE unexpected surprises…if they’re good. A baby is coming to a couple who thought they couldn’t get pregnant. An award is given for a job well done. A refund check comes when we were expecting to have to pay more. These are all the GOOD kinds of unexpected things we don’t mind hearing about.

What happens when the unexpected isn’t good? There is a miscarriage…a heart attack…an accident. Once that happens to you, you are hypersensitive. Hyper-vigilant. Over reactive. When my ex-husband found me after the overdose, it took years for him to be able to see me without having a rush of anxiety. Daughter #2 went through a very difficult period in her life when she would call me…frequently crying hysterically. I was going through my own issues dealing with grief. Her anxiety would set off my anxiety to the point when I saw her name on Caller ID, my heart would start pounding and my hands would sweat.

Anticipatory anxiety can come from having experienced the unexpected in a traumatic way. Mr. Virgo complained of shoulder pain two days before he died of a sudden heart attack. The other day, Mr. FixIt was complaining of his shoulder hurting and my heart started pounding and my hands started sweating. He looked at me and knew what was going through my mind. He knows me well. He immediately came to me, wrapped his arms around me and said, “It’s just my arthritis, honey. I’m fine…really.”

I don’t want to say “I can’t do that again.” Because, we do not know what the future holds and he deserves to have me right there beside him, supporting him, no matter what happens in life. So where do I put that misplaced anxiety? I ask God to take it.

“Lord, I need you to take this away from me. I know this is just a reaction caused by something that happened before. But it feels real and I need to focus on _____ right now, not anxiety.”

Anxiety is a giant that can control our lives. I learned in Louie’s book that Jesus already killed that giant. It’s dead and gone. I’m working on it. I’d love to say I read this book and did the study and watched the videos and now anxiety is a thing of my past. But I’ve been dealing with this since I was in second grade. That’s a whole boatload of years. Whether it is a medical condition or a conditioned response doesn’t matter…it feels real. I will say though, it’s much improved since studying Goliath Must Fall.

Unexpected things will always happen…good AND bad. I just have to remember to pray and hand it all over. ❤️

“But when I am afraid, I will put my trust in you.”
Psalms 56:3 NLT

Writing and Praying

Wed, 27 Feb 2019 02:30:39 -0600

“Prayers, Praises, and Persistence”

I was a little worried when I went out to TOW-Wanda yesterday morning. Were the words going to come? Or was I going to hit another roadblock like I did Monday? I gathered my gear, grabbed my coffee, kissed Mr. FixIt, and headed to “the office”.

Once the furnace was on, I slipped out of my shoes and climbed into my little writing nook. I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and figure out a plan of action. Holding the warm coffee between my hands, I closed my eyes and prayed.

“Lord, thank you for all these words you’ve been sending me. Thank you for this comfortable place to write in and call my own. Thank you for trusting me to be your hands. Lord, I’m not sure what happened yesterday. My friend Gail says you were just giving me a day of rest. Whatever it was, Lord…please make me a vessel. Use me in whatever way you can. I promise I’ll do what you say. Amen”

I sipped my coffee and was about to open the document app and resume writing the book when I felt the nudge.

“Find your verse.”

This is something I do when I want to hear personally from God. When I’m having a specific issue, I ask God to help me find my verse…the one he speaks through. If I have my bible, i just open it to the spot that feels right, close my eyes, and point. That is my verse, and 99.9% of the time, it speaks to me directly regarding whatever issue it is I’m dealing with. I can do the same thing with the app.

When I opened my app yesterday, chose a book, then chose a chapter, the Parable of the Persistent Widow came up. I kid you not. I took one look at it and laughed with glee.

“Awwww, Jesus…you are SO good. Would you look at that? How do you expect people to believe this?”

It’s true. The parable was told to the Disciples to remind them to pray and to never give up. You can’t make this stuff up…he answered me right there. So, I prayed again.

“Ok, Lord…here I am praying and I’m never going to give up. I just feel like I’m supposed to be going somewhere with this book but I’ve lost my direction. I’m giving it back to you. Guide me where you want this to go.”

Just then a dear friend texted me and asked me to give her a call. She said, “I just want to tell you how proud I am of you. You’ve been talking with God. AND…you’ve also been listening to the Holy Spirit as he guides you through your book. You’re doing a great job. Keep it up!”

Sometimes I wonder if other people can hear my chin hit the floor as much as I can. Not only did he send me a scripture saying “Keep praying! Never give up!” He nudged a friend to reach out and say, “You’re doing a great job. Thanks for listening to the Holy Spirit!” Hokey smokes!

I scrolled back and found the exact spot where I went off the rails. I highlighted the words from that point to the end, cut, and pasted them into a new document I entitled “Extras” and saved it. I’m not going to throw those 12,000 words. They may come in handy in another book. I’m back to 52,422 words with a goal of 60,000 to 80,000. I also have a Mission Statement for my book so I know more specifically what to ask for.

I don’t want to overwhelm you with God stories each and every day. There are days when other topics seep in, but even then, the underlying story is how God works into it. I also know the timbre of my writing has changed. But, when something so profound gets set down on a platter in front of me, how can I NOT share that? I still shake my head when things like this happen, even though I absolutely KNOW where it comes from. So, here’s my Worship Wednesday post! ❤️

“One day Jesus told his disciples a story to show that they should always pray and never give up. “There was a judge in a certain city,” he said, “who neither feared God nor cared about people. A widow of that city came to him repeatedly, saying, ‘Give me justice in this dispute with my enemy.’ The judge ignored her for a while, but finally he said to himself, ‘I don’t fear God or care about people, but this woman is driving me crazy. I’m going to see that she gets justice, because she is wearing me out with her constant requests!’” Then the Lord said, “Learn a lesson from this unjust judge. Even he rendered a just decision in the end. So don’t you think God will surely give justice to his chosen people who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will grant justice to them quickly! But when the Son of Man returns, how many will he find on the earth who have faith?””
Luke 18:1-8 NLT

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

Power Outage

Mon, 25 Feb 2019 02:30:56 -0600

“A power outage is not uncommon in the country.”

One of the disadvantages of living way, WAY out in the country is the frequent power outages. I do have to say, I believe this is the first one I’ve experienced here at the Ponderosa. Mr. FixIt has told me stories of outages that have lasted over two weeks out here so I am sure praying this isn’t one of them.

We’ve had tons of rain. That softened the ground. Then Sunday morning, the wind picked up and there are trees down everywhere. If they take down a power line, or snap power poles in half, or even make the wires move so much they cause a transformer to blow, then you’re out of luck. Last winter, in preparation for just such an event, Mr. FixIt pulled the generator out of the big building and set it up by the back door. He had a tarp over it to protect it from the elements. We are good Scouts!

We went to church yesterday before the wind picked up. The power was on and we didn’t think anything of it. By the time church was over and we had our usual brunch afterwards, we still had a couple of errands to run before delivering our family to their house. We didn’t get home till about 4:00. We left the sump pumps running when we headed out for church. Mr. FixIt was up four or five times during the night checking the water level. Finally, at 5:00am, it was time to turn them on. When we came to the door, my husband cocked his head and said, “The power’s out.” The pumps weren’t running.

He headed downstairs and the water was starting to seep in under the door. We had to get those pumps running ASAP. I said a prayer and the generator started right up. We WERE good Scouts….except for one thing. The gas can was empty! Mr. FixIt headed to our little town to fill the can however, the gas station was also without electricity. The only choice was to run to the next bigger town, which I did. I got back before he had to leave for bowling. We added oil to the generator and filled the tank and started it back up.

My sweetie ran an extension cord into the house so I could have a lamp. We had water. We had natural gas for cooking and for the stove that heats the living room. I bundled up and cuddled under my fur blanket, and started writing. He asked if I would be ok when he left. I laughed because this isn’t roughing it. I’ve lived in a camper on the banks of the Ohio River with no running water, a foot of snow on the ground, and -15 wind chill. This is nothing….just a minor inconvenience. It’s life in the country. I have no idea how long the power was out before we got home. And, at the time I am writing this, I have no idea how long it will be off. I called the power company and they said it was a widespread outage. It is affected 3,800 - 4,000 customers in our county alone. It comes on when it comes on.

I remain joyful and keep praying and I’m so thankful for a house and a generator, and a camper with heat should we continue without power into the night. I will remain thankful in all circumstances. ❤️

“Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.”
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 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

Broken

Fri, 22 Feb 2019 02:30:30 -0600

“There’s broken. Then there’s forever broken.”

I have a friend from my coffee group who recently lost her husband. She had a health issue and needed to be hospitalized a day or two after her husband died so I went and sat with her for a while. I recognized her grief. I knew her brokenness. I remember.

Even though it’s been nearly six years now since Mr. Virgo died, you don’t forget. Even though I have this wonderful man in my life now and we are deliriously happy…you don’t forget. Time knocks the sharp edges of your grief away, making it softer with distance…like looking for the mountains through a misty haze. You know the mountains are there. You remember what they look like. But you can’t quite make out the details.

Everyone deals with grief in their own way. And, the circumstances of death changes from person to person. It’s one thing to lose your grandma when she’s ninety-two. It’s another when your child is murdered and it’s high profile and you keep seeing it in the news and you get the details of exactly what happened. We expect our elders to pass. We’re never ready, really. But it seems like the natural progression of things. We don’t expect the senseless murder of a young man in the prime of his life. There’s broken. Then there’s destroyed.

I pray for my friends who are burying their loves this week. A great-grandma and a husband. And I pray for my friend who lost her son last year. I pray for her because the scab keeps getting ripped off…over and over and over. I pray for her because I have no words. The only thing I could offer her was a quote from Megan Devine.

“Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.”

“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

New Kicks!

Wed, 20 Feb 2019 02:30:17 -0600

“It pays to buy quality shoes!”

For about the last six months or so, I’ve noticed a pain in the ball of my left foot, near the base between my third and fourth toe. It feels like what we used to call a stone bruise. I rely on walking as my main exercise but this has become decidedly uncomfortable. I know I haven’t been wearing the right shoes this winter…mainly out of laziness. I just grab the quickest slip-ons and I know they don’t provide the proper support.

Yesterday was our appointment with the chiropractor. I really look forward to seeing her once a month. Ever since my accident two years ago, I have seen her with regularity. She thinks I have a Morton’s neuroma. I strongly suggest if someone thinks you have something, don’t Google it. You’ll find out things you wish you didn’t know like treatments and recurrence and surgeries and…yuck. She suggested I get better walking shoes.

My cousin’s wife texted yesterday and asked what I was up to.

“Heading to the mall to buy new WALKING SHOES!!!”

“Great! Get Brooks…they saved my feet!”

“?$$$”

“Yeah…but well worth it!!!”

I’m all about the cheap stuff, except when it comes to shoes. My feet have to carry me wherever I want to go. So, I’m willing to spend more for good quality shoes.

I stepped into one of those budget shoe stores first. No Brooks…no surprise. I stuck my hand in several pair and pressed on the material cushioning the ball of the foot. No go. They all felt like they had nothing but the 1/8th inch foam insole. That’s how I got in this problem in the first place.

I went on down the mall to the new sport clothing store. They didn’t have Brooks either. They had more running shoes than anything else and they don’t offer the comfort and support I was looking for either.

My next stop was Finish Line, a fitness and sporting shoe specialty store. They had Brooks! But, man…they were pricey! Still, I know my cousin’s wife has trouble with her feet and if she says Brooks saved her feet, I was going to try them. I asked for two different styles with different price points. Wow! The moment I put on the first pair, the pain eased significantly. They felt like I was walking on clouds. You know that feeling when you find the perfect shoe.

I vacillated. I hated to spend three figures on a pair of shoes. Yet, these felt wonderful. In the end, I bought the shoes. If you buy cheap shoes, you’ll be buying them repeatedly over the years. The last pair of good walking shoes I bought have lasted me four years. I bought these for $136. There’s no reason to believe these won’t also last four years and if they do, that’s $34 a year. I’m good with that.

We walked a few laps to test them out, then headed home. Mr. FixIt cleaned out the gutters in preparation for the huge rainstorm we are supposed to get over the next 36 hours or so. I tucked into TOW-Wanda and wrote till dusk. After supper, I wrote for another three hours.

43,148 words! ?❤️

“For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that.”
1 Timothy 6:7-8 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

I’m Writing Again

Fri, 08 Feb 2019 02:30:45 -0600

“Writing again…this time I mean it.”

About a year ago, I set my book on the back burner at the urging of my agent. She wanted me to focus on increasing my social media presence. And, while taking a break from working on the book was welcome, that time hasn’t made a huge difference in how many people follow my blog or Twitter or Instagram accounts. People come, people go. Maybe you need this for a season. Maybe for a reason. But things just stay the same overall.

I’m not complaining…not by a long shot. I love sharing my thoughts and stories here on the daily. But I found myself spending entirely too much time knitting and my book still sits. Sigh. It’s not going to write itself. If it were, it would be a best seller by now.

My accountability team contacted me yesterday and gave me the kick in the butt I needed…with an order. Five hundred words by 5:00 Wednesday afternoon! I got up earlier than usual yesterday. I made sure Mr. FixIt had everything he needed. I packed up my bag with my iPad, headphones, iPhone, and reference materials, grabbed a drink and my umbrella, and headed out to TOW-Wanda.

I extended the slide-out which normally holds the dinette. I have the table lowered and a twin mattress on top. I grabbed the pillows off the bed and propped them up at one end. I turned the furnace on to ward off the chill. I jumped in, covered up with the softest minky throw, propped my portable desk on my lap, and dove into my Pages app and started writing. I designed my book cover. I finally took a leap and typed in the title…something that has been eluding me for years. (Shhhh…it’s a secret. I can’t tell you what it is.)

Six hundred ninety words later, I turn off the iPad and looked off into the gloomy afternoon. The rain pounded on the roof, pelting the windows with a sound much like bacon frying. A sudden flash of lightning and a quick clap of thunder told me the storm was getting closer and intensifying. In the early days of trailer camping, a thunderstorm caused me to worry I might get electrocuted. I’m sure you aren’t as protected in a camper as you are in a house, but I’ve long since let go of the fear of storms. I leaned back and smiled. I pulled the soft minky material up under my chin and allowed my mind to drift along till I heard a tapping at my door. Mr. FixIt was leaving to go bowl and wanted to give me a hug. He’s feeling better, thank goodness.

Soon after he was gone, I gathered up my things and headed back inside. The sky was clouding up again and I knew I was going to need to be inside to keep an eye on that leaky drain downstairs that overflows when it rains. It was a good day. A productive day. Six hundred ninety words down. Who knows how many to go. ❤️

“"Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Write in a book all the words that I have spoken to you.”
Jeremiah 30:2 ESV

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

It’s Something in the Blood

Sat, 02 Feb 2019 02:30:46 -0600

“The advent of home DNA tests can open a can of worms for the unsuspecting.”

“Dirty little secrets, dirty little lies…” Don Henley / Danny Kortchmar

A few years ago, I bought a DNA kit through Ancestry.com. I picked up my mom’s passion for genealogy research where she left off when she died in 2004. Even though Ancestry was founded in 1983, it would be many years before the company went beyond connecting the dots between people and helping us fill in the blanks in family trees. When the DNA kit became available, it was fairly revolutionary. Here, you could go beyond the little green leaves and find out where you came from…geographically speaking.

I dutifully spit in the little test tube. I did what 95% of people do when they set off on such a venture…I basically ignored the small print. Things like saving my little genes in memory banks, selling my genetic information to third parties, and linking me with relatives I have never heard of never crossed my mind. I didn’t feel like I was registering with the government or Big Brother. I just wanted to know if I had any Native American ancestry like I’d always heard I had. It’s minuscule.

When I received my report, I wasn’t surprised by anything except some distant relative from Norway. Other than that, it was Scots/English/German…exactly as I expected. Then, Ancestry started sending e-mails saying they linked me to others who have done the test. It might be a 3rd cousin, 6th cousin…nothing close. I looked at the first couple. Other things soon captured my interest and in my typical Gemini fashion, I was off chasing butterflies in another field.

I recently read stories in the news about do-it-yourself DNA testing turning up surprises. Some that tear families apart. What would you do if you found siblings you’d never heard of? Or, if you found the siblings you were raised with were only half-siblings, indicating one or the other of your parents had an affair? Or, what if you were an anonymous sperm donor and suddenly you have 64 “children” out there?

The idea of anonymity in such things is seriously long gone with the advent of a $50 DNA test kit. Something that once required blood tests and a geneticist now is available on the shelves of any chain pharmacy. People are receiving troubling information with very little counseling to go along with it. There are now tests that can help predict your chances of developing such diseases as cancer and Alzheimer’s. How far of a jump is it for insurance companies to get that information and turn you down for coverage or refuse life insurance benefits if you die of a disease that has been documented as predictable?

It is estimated that by the year 2021, 100,000,000 people will have had their DNA tested by Ancestry alone. There are several other companies doing DNA tests of one sort or another. That’s a lot of data out there. I’d like to think it isn’t going to be used nefariously, but we have no guarantees of that. I know people who refuse to do the tests. I can’t say that I really regret having mine tested. And, I really would like to know if I have a proclivity to succumb to certain diseases so that I can a) prepare myself and my family and b) practice preventative health measures.

I think I am beginning to understand what my grandma might have gone through with the space program and computers and cell phones. Things are happening now that we couldn’t have even dreamed up when we were kids. I mean…it’s beyond Dick Tracy and Get Smart. This is really crazy stuff and, I have to admit…it fascinates the dickens out of me. ❤️

“The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in people who are trustworthy.”
Proverbs 12:22 NIV

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

Are We Raising Strong Kids?

Thu, 31 Jan 2019 02:30:47 -0600

“School closings for cold weather…are we raising weak kids by saying it’s too cold outside?”

I can’t decide. Were adults negligent when we were kids and they made us stand in sub-zero weather to wait for the bus…in skirts, no less? Or are they teaching kids to give up when things get hard when they call school off for two days because of cold weather? Seriously, I don’t recall ever hearing of someone dying of hypothermia waiting for the school bus in 1969. Did I like it? Heck no! Did it kill me? Not by a long shot.

We weren’t allowed to wear pants to school back then and, by golly, my mom abided by the rules. I couldn’t wear pants under my skirt even if I swore on a stack of Bibles that I would take them off as soon as I got to school. Rules were rules and that was that. I only had to walk three blocks but sometimes the wait was 20 minutes or more if the roads were bad. It was pretty brutal, but I survived.

We didn’t have money for snow boots. I wore my penny loafers and knee socks. My feet were ice cubes by the time I got to school. The skin on my kneecaps was hard and white. There wasn’t such a thing as puffy ski coats, either. I had a hand-me-down wool coat and a toboggan. Still, I never had frostbite. I was rarely sick.

There was a government official that got some backlash yesterday for suggesting we are teaching kids that we quit when things get hard. More than likely, when these kids grow up, their boss will expect them to show up when it’s cold instead of staying home in their jammies and playing video games all day. I’m inclined to think we’ve become a little too soft in this day and age.

Granted…I stay in and knit and drink tea on blustery, cold days. But, I payed my dues. We did go out to the farm yesterday. We needed to check the well pump in the cellar house to make sure it wasn’t in danger of freezing. All the water lines were clear, the heat was on, the gas stove in the bathroom was working perfectly, the cabinet doors were open, and so was the basement door. That allows extra heat from the basement up into the kitchen, helping to keep that side of the house warm. The cellar temperature was actually well above freezing. It is built back into the hillside and is covered by earth on three sides. Just to make doubly sure though, we turned on the trouble light that hangs near the pipes to give a little extra warmth. It was 2 degrees when we got home.

Ha! I’ve turned into my mother…my grandmother…my great-grandmother. I can just hear my grandma saying, “Why, when I was your age, we had to get up and milk the cows and gather the eggs and feed the hogs before we could head off to school. We had to cut the wood for the cook stove, too! We didn’t have any modern conveniences, and we did just fine. This younger generation doesn’t know how good they have it!” I don’t know…I suppose a windchill factor of -15 is as good a reason as any to call off school. It’s wicked cold out there. Be safe if you have to be out…and kids, use this time to learn something. Look up “global warming”, “climate change”, “how to prevent frostbite” and write a little essay. ❤️

Edit: I’m going to step up here and say many of you have made very valid points. This is a very dangerous polar vortex and in thinking back, we certainly did not experience wind chills of -50+ when I was a kid. The weather has changed. The economy has changed. I hadn’t thought of all the factors you, as current and former teachers, have expressed. Polar vortex windchills and trophies for all aren’t the same things. Thank you for enlightening me. That’s why I love this blog. You cheer me on…and you teach me when a I need it.

“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

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

Action v. Reaction

Tue, 22 Jan 2019 02:30:08 -0600

“The Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr.”

Growing up in the chaos of alcoholic dysfunction made me a reactionary from an early age. There was a lot of anger in my home growing up. Lots of fighting, yelling, slamming, throwing, crashing. I never witnessed my father hitting my mother. He only hit me once. When he did, he came at me from behind and I stood up to him. I stuck my chin out and told him, if he was going to hit me he’d better hit me like a man and do it face to face. I’ll never forget the utter look of defeat on his face in that moment. He dropped his fist to his side, went over to the steps, sat down, and cried. He never went after me again. But, the damage was done. It was done long before that day.

I learned to be the peacemaker. To smooth things over. To mediate when things got out of hand. I was the bystander. I acted. Unfortunately, when the anger was directed at me, I reacted. I automatically went into defense mode. I made excuses. I deflected. I diverted attention. I manipulated. It was decidedly unhealthy and took far too many years to come to a head.

The first pivotal moment of my life…that moment when there is a definite line in the sand that separates “all things before” from “all things after” was the overdose. That was when I really did the work necessary to effect permanent change in my life. It’s when I learned about codependency. Before that, there was no clear boundary to define where others ended and I began. I was too busy weaving a web that would hold everything together.

Learning about boundaries was a love-hate exercise. I loved finding my voice and standing up for myself. I hated confrontation. I loved the release healthy boundaries gave me because I didn’t have to try to run everyone else’s lives for them. I hated feeling like a fish out of water.

It took a lot of practice. It still does. I still have to remind myself occasionally that I don’t do anyone any favors by not setting boundaries and demand they are respected. I didn’t spend seven hard years in therapy for nothing. Fortunately, Mr. Virgo came into the picture after I had these skills in place and he offered an excellent practice field.

After sixty-five trips around the sun, I’ve learned enough to know it’s a whole lot easier to carry love than it is anger, hate, discord, dysfunction, or codependency. When I approach any situation from a place of love, my walk becomes more Christ-like. And anytime I lead with “What would Jesus do?”, I am already winning. Conflict is inevitable in life. The only control we have is in how we react to it. ❤️

“For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”
Galatians 1:10 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

German Comfort Food

Sat, 19 Jan 2019 02:30:11 -0600

“Kielbasa, kraut, and mashed potatoes…German comfort food.”

When we were having coffee yesterday morning, Mr. FixIt asked if I wanted to go to the movies in the afternoon. My mind went over the list of things that needed to be done and I politely demurred. He turned on the weather report and they’re predicting a ton of rain turning to snow over the weekend so he wisely decided to go to town and rent a snake to clear the drain out back.

We have a stairway that goes down into the basement. There is a four inch pipe in the bottom of that stairwell and it drains into a pipe that travels over a hundred yards out to the creek. About every two years, that drain needs to be snaked out so the water doesn’t back up and run into the basement. Also, there is a ditch out at the creek bank that always gets filled in when the spring runoff overflows. It’s an ugly, backbreaking job that no one likes, but it has to be done. With heavy rain in the forecast, it was best to get it over with.

We headed to town and ran some errands before we picked up the snake at the rental place. I overheard the young man who was helping Mr. FixIt lift this monstrosity into the back of his truck.

“Who’s going to help you unload this thing?”

“That little lady sitting in the front seat up there.” Mr. FixIt sounded confident and proud.

We stopped at the store on the way home and I don’t believe, even at Thanksgiving, I have ever seen so many people. The parking lot was filled. People were circling round and round. There were no carts. And the checkout lines were twenty deep. Mr. FixIt and I looked at each other like, “What the heck?”

“They’re predicting snow!” I said. “Let the games begin.”

I told him to just drive around and I’d be back out in a jiffy. As I headed into the store, the line from Hunger Games went through my mind.

“May the odds be ever in your favor!”

I scooted to the back and bought the two items I needed. Non-alcohol beer and a chuck roast. I’m easy. I waited two minutes and hit the self-checkout and was out the door in a flash. There were people in there with multiple jugs of milk and loaves of bread…as if they were anticipating being stuck in their homes for weeks. When we stopped at the discount grocer earlier, I planned ahead by buying an extra bag of flour in case I got a hankerin’ to bake something. It’s crazy what a snow forecast does in West Virginia. It’s a good thing it’s the weekend. I’ve seen them cancel school based on a forecast.

I used to kind of think these people were weenies when they cancelled school at the first sign of snow. After all, I lived in Colorado for forty years. If you don’t get out and go someplace when it snows, you’re going to be stuck in your house from October to May. But I’ve got to say, in these people’s defense, driving here in winter is NOTHING like Colorado. There, you can drive 55 in a whiteout blizzard, not that you SHOULD. Here, you don’t dare touch your brakes going 25 or you’ll be in a ditch in a heartbeat. The roads are twisty-turny and hilly. And they have this thing called black ice. It looks the same as wet pavement and it’s deadly. I get it now…people don’t want to go out in it. And school busses have no business hauling our babes through it if it can be prevented.

When we got home, I had to help Mr. FixIt unload that drain snake. I am telling you what…that sucker was HEAVY. Fortunately it’s on wheels so when we got it out of the truck all we had to do was wheel it to the back stairwell. Then we had to walk it down the stairs. Oy! Once it was down there, I went on inside and Mr. FixIt got to work. After some time, I didn’t hear the machine anymore so I went to see how he was doing. I found him out at the creek bank digging out the ditch. Living on five acres without city sewer isn’t always easy. That was a lot of hard work. I helped him get the contraption back up the steps and into the bed of the truck.

“You’re a hard worker,” he said.

“Thanks for telling me that, but you’re the one who did the tough stuff. I’ll fix you some supper while you clean up.” I smiled as I patted his bum when I walked by.

German comfort food seemed to be the perfect meal for the hard workers last night. I boiled kielbasa to leach out some of the salt then tossed it in a skillet with some melted butter. I drained the sauerkraut and added it to the skillet, stirring occasionally so it would brown but not burn. I made mashed potatoes and served the kielbasa/kraut mixture on top. Oh, it was heavenly! It was a good day’s work and that is so satisfying. ❤️

“Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!”
Psalms 90:17 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

Little Vintage Campers

Wed, 16 Jan 2019 02:30:55 -0600

“Little vintage campers…how many people were IN this thing?”

Yesterday, Mr. FixIt and I were having breakfast when he picked up his phone to show me something. He watches Facebook Marketplace closely because, you know, you never know when you might need one more thing, right? Anyway, there was an ad in there for a 1969 Shasta Compact camper. Swoon! Anyone who knows anything about campers knows Shasta is kind of a status symbol for campers. This particular one was being converted into a food trailer, but it’s too small for the job so the people are trying to unload it. It’s gutted already, no leaks, towable, new tires, and only $500. Not bad.

We contacted the gal and as one might imagine, she already has people coming to look at it, so the chance of me even getting to see it are pretty slim. And, like I need another project! Anyway, if I get to see it, I’ll take pics and show you.

Thinking about tiny little campers got me to looking at vintage camping art and photos. Look at this tiny little camper. Now, look at how many people there are camping. Wow! It’s like one of those clown cars where clowns keep coming out one after another! Cars were a lot heavier and more powerful back then so you would see the family car pulling a really big trailer. Do you remember the movie Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz made called The Long, Long, Long Trailer? It was huge but they pulled it with a convertible!

I never camped as a kid, but I remember going over to a friend’s house and they had a camper. Us kids were allowed to go in it and use it like a playhouse. I remember being absolutely mesmerized by it and I wanted one in the worst way. I was always married to non-campers till Mr. FixIt came along. Now we have four campers between us and I am preparing to convert an old minivan into a mini campervan. Oh yeah…I REALLY need another camper! ?‍♀️

❤️

“For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, 'This man began to build and was not able to finish.'”
Luke 14:28-30 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 Water Crisis

Mon, 14 Jan 2019 02:30:26 -0600

“If a crisis occurred and you didn’t have modern conveniences…would you know what to do?”

An alert went out to a good portion of the residents of my home town Thursday evening. There was a boil water advisory. This happens when there has been a water main break or something of the like. It seldom lasts more than a day. Not this one. What started out as “north of the Kanawha River” became “all PUD customers” overnight. Water was coming out of faucets anywhere from clear to partly cloudy to brown. Some people had no pressure at all. Others had a dribble. Still others seemed unaffected but a ban is a ban.

It was interesting to watch Facebook as people became more and more concerned. There really wasn’t a very good explanation given to allay the fears of the citizenry. And, given we live in Chemical Valley, imaginations ran wild. It really could have been anything. Some said it was still ok to shower. Some said not. Others said it was ok to wash your clothes but when they did, large brown spots stained them. Now, I’ll have to admit…this situation did not affect me personally because we live out in the country away from that particular city water system. But, I’ve lived through things like this many times and it is not only a major inconvenience….it can be downright scary.

It happened fairly often in Colorado. Just about every year when the spring runoff brought an over abundance of silt down into the city water intake, the filters were soon overwhelmed and our water got murky. There would often be a boil water advisory. My cousin has to haul water to fill a cistern since they live on the side of a mountain here in West Virginia. When they get a good hard rain, their water turns a murky reddish-brown. Out at the farm, there is a rainwater catchment system in place, but it’s been decades since the cistern has been cleaned or the filter changed. The point being, there are lots of folks who have to boil water on a regular basis. Or they just resort to buying water or taking empty jugs to a family member’s house to refill them. That’s what I did after Mr. FixIt and I started dating. I had about a dozen one gallon jugs I threw in my truck and I filled them when I visited him in town.

For those of us more accustomed to living a more primitive life, these things are par for the course and you just roll with them. But city people who rely on the immediate availability of fresh water at the turn of the faucet get rattled. I don’t blame them. We are creatures of habit and we become complacent in our consumption of utilities. This is such a first world problem. So much of the world’s population has no access to fresh water, let alone electricity, gas, internet, phone, and groceries.

What would (will?) happen to us if the unthinkable happens and it all goes away??? Will you know how to collect and filter water? Will you know how to produce and preserve food? Will you be able to provide housing and clothing for yourself and your family? Will you be able to gather fuel to cook and keep warm? Do you have skills or goods for bartering? I worry that the last generation to really have those skills is getting too old to provide them. So, here is what I posit. If you have skills, pass them on to young people…your children, grandchildren, great grandchildren.

This isn’t meant to cause an alarmist response. I don’t think something like this is imminent. But it cannot hurt to stock up on some extra jugs of water in case there is an emergency in your area. Parkersburg’s boil advisory wasn’t lifted until last evening. That made three full days without tap water for a pretty good-sized town. I’m not saying you have to go full on survivalist, but knowledge is power. Be prepared…or as prepared as you can be. ❤️

“Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring.”
Proverbs 27:1 ESV

The Kitchen Window

Sun, 13 Jan 2019 02:30:17 -0600

“The view out my kitchen window at the Ponderosa allows me to watch the birds at the feeder.”

When I was growing up, I spent as much time out at my grandma’s farm as I possibly could. I never minded washing dishes at Grandma’s because there was a big window over the kitchen sink. I’ve moved many times over the years and was always so pleased when the kitchen had a window over the sink. It didn’t really matter the view…as long as I could see out and open it for some fresh air, I was a happy camper.

I was thrilled when I found out Mr. FixIt’s house has a window I can gaze out as I wash the dishes. He keeps a bird feeder full for me so I can watch the birds fly in and out of the surrounding trees and brush to light just beyond where I stand. Yesterday, there were several cardinals. There’s nothing prettier than the flash of a redbird swooping in and landing just in front of me. Their brilliant scarlet plumage against the new fallen snow is breathtaking. They say a cardinal is a sign a loved one is visiting from heaven. If that is true, our house was a busy place yesterday. There were also chickadees, tufted titmice, a pair of mourning doves, and the occasional downy woodpecker added to the mix.

In the late summer, early fall, the deer gather under that tree you see out there in the yard and eat the fallen crabapples. In the late spring, Mr. FixIt puts up the hummingbird feeder and fills it for me. He loves the birds as much as I do.

We didn’t get the snow that was predicted…as least not by the time of this writing last night. Mr. FixIt has half the bathroom subfloor put down in the master bath. He came in from checking the mail and handed me a package…a canvas print of Daughter #1 and her family. Now I need to plan a family portrait wall!

If it’s slick this morning, we’ll stay home and watch church on TV. I must say, it was very nice to not leave the house at all. It was a beautiful day filled with knitting and love. It doesn’t get much better than that! ❤️

“I know every bird in the mountains, and the insects in the fields are mine.”
Psalm 50:11 NIV

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

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

Thwarting a Spiritual Attack

Sat, 05 Jan 2019 02:30:25 -0600

“Man says…show me and I’ll trust you. God says…trust me and I’ll show you.” Psalm 126:6

So, I was minding my own business, tucked under my blanket, happily knitting when I got a text . My dear friends Janine and Gail and I have a chat room where we visit just about every day. Janine was traveling through and was stopping at Gail’s to spend the night. I was three hours away but I wasn’t going to miss out on seeing my good friends. Impromptu road trip!

I got here just after dark. Janine had her friend Diane with her and I was thrilled to meet her. Another friend, Jan, came to join us and we just had a grand time. Diane is a devout Christian and is a PR person. Jan is a retired pastor. You can imagine our entire evening was talking about our stories and how God has worked in our lives.

I was standing in the kitchen giving Diane my testimony about finding Jesus when I started feeling ill. It worsened over the hour and I headed upstairs with a bucket, just in case. Everyone had gone to bed so when I came to Janine’s door I tapped.

“Janine?”

“Yes, dear.” She opened the door wide. Her smile quickly faded when she saw me. “Ginny? What’s wrong?” She came into the hall and touched my arm.

“Janine, I’m being spiritually attacked!” I knew it as sure as I knew my own name. I was suddenly, violently ill.

I spent the prior twenty-four hours pretty immersed in Jesus. I watched War Room…a powerful movie about spiritual warfare. Then I came to Gail’s and spent a whole evening talking about very powerful, spiritual things. There were five very strong women engaged in animated spiritual conversation.

Janine and Diane came into the room and laid hands on me and prayed fervently. Within a half hour, I felt much better.

If you don’t believe in such a thing as spiritual warfare, I am here to tell you it’s a very real thing. The enemy does not like when powerful, spiritual women start professing faith like we were. But his power is in whispering lies and making you believe things that are not real. We sent him packing. A whole army of angels surrounded me and kicked his butt! We can just rejoice in that for a while, ok? I believe! ❤️

“Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.””
Matthew 16:23 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

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

Looking for the Light

Sat, 29 Dec 2018 02:30:33 -0600

“Looking for the Light”

In the next week or two, one after the other…folks will be taking down their Christmas lights. My goodness, I know people who take their decorations down as soon as the last present is opened! Me? Well, if I didn’t have to dust the darned thing, I’d leave my tree up all year. Oh, I love my tree! Mr. FixIt picked out two or three trees and sent me pictures of them when I was in Colorado that first Christmas we were dating. I chose the one I wanted and he picked it up on sale after the holidays. He’s such a good man!

Thankfully, we are past the winter solstice, and the days will incrementally reward us with more and more light. But it will be a while before we really notice it. Until then, I will hang on to my sweet, white lights on my tree. And my scented candles. And my battery operated candles that automatically turn on and off. And the little candles in each window that stay up all year. And the accent lamps. There are no curtains on the windows so I can squeeze out every moment of light every day. I crave light.

In the past, I have fallen victim to the habit of saying, “I hate winter!” “I hate the cold weather!” “I hate the snow!” Well, you know what? Whether I hate it or not, it is going to be here. Defeatist jargon steals joy. Either way, hate or joy, it’s still going to be dark and cold. So why not choose joy? Why not change the negative self chatter to something like…”There is joy in this moment.” There is joy in that sunbeam, no matter how briefly it shines. There is joy in the snow…no two snowflakes are alike. There is joy in the trees as they stretch their naked arms up into the sky, their roots settled in for a rest before they burst forth with their gift of green.

This transformation of my thinking doesn’t come in a straight line. I’ve found myself being decidedly grumpy occasionally over the last couple of weeks. Then I remember my word…presence…and I come back. It may be a forever battle, but my war cry will always be “Joy!”

That is my word for 2019. Joy!

“These people who live in darkness will see a great light. They live in a place that is very dark. But a light will shine on them.” Isaiah 9:1-2” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭4:16‬ ‭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

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

The Farm: Sharing My Happy Place

Sat, 15 Dec 2018 02:30:12 -0600

“I knitted this little beaded evening bag many years ago.”

There is only one thing better than spending time at the farm. Spending time at the farm with Mr. FixIt! I asked him Thursday if we could go out for a couple of days and he is such a sweetie. We don’t quite have the amenities at the farm that we have at the house, but he’s a real sport. Usually we pack enough stuff for a month-long safari, but we’re getting better at it. Dinner was Hamburger Macaroni (SO simple…brown 1# hamburger with a med. onion chopped, stir in a can of fire-roasted diced tomatoes and a can of drained corn, add a few cups of cooked elbow macaroni and a couple slices of Colby cheese, a little red pepper flakes, garlic salt, pepper, and oregano…stir and serve. Comfort food when served with homemade peanut butter cookies! Yummmmmm!

I was going through some of the things I saved and brought with me from Colorado. I chatted with my knitting buddy, Gail, yesterday. I told her about a little purse I knitted many years ago. When I was going through a box, I ran across this pretty little beaded bag. I remember the day I went to the Convention Center in downtown Denver for a bead show. There was a lady from Evergreen selling reproduction silver plated purse handles, Japanese silk, seed beads, tiny little double-point needles, and patterns for the most darling little evening bags. I bought enough supplies to make four.

This was the first one I made. It was tedious to make, I will not lie. To start with, you have to transfer all these little beads to the silk. The beads come on something called a hank. It’s several strands of beads in a loop, and the ends of the threads are all tied together in a knot. Each loop had to be very carefully removed from the hank without dropping one end. If you drop it, alllllllll the beads slip off and go everywhere. Don’t ask me how I know that. ?

When you slide the beads from the thread to the silk, you sometimes find a bead whose hole is too small for the silk. In that case, you take a pair of pliers and gently squeeze the bead till it breaks. You have to be careful because the sharp edge of a broken bead can cut the silk, then you’re in a serious mess. Strand after strand, you slide and pull them along till you have the required number of beads on the silk thread. Once the beads have been threaded on, you wrap them around and around the ball of silk ill you get back to the beginning. You have to stop and unroll this often and slip the beads further down the thread so you have room to knit. Did I tell you it was tedious?

I made this one and another just like it for my cousin’s daughter. She was born with cancer in her spine and had major surgery and treatment as a very young child. When she turned sixteen, I made her the little bag to carry to her first formal. I have enough to make two white purses…one for each of my daughters. The intent was to give each their purse for their weddings. The oldest has been married since 1995. Her purse isn’t finished yet. Did I tell you they are quite tedious to make? I thought I did.

I love having this. I used to display it in a curio cabinet that now sits in Colorado waiting for me to bring it here one day. Maybe next summer I will tote it home. In the meantime, it sits on the dresser in our room and I pick it up every now and again, just to remember I once did very tedious work. ❤️

“as it is written: “The one who gathered much did not have too much, and the one who gathered little did not have too little.””
2 Corinthians 8:15 NIV

Depression: Not Everyone is Merry and Bright

Thu, 13 Dec 2018 02:30:05 -0600

“Not Everyone is Merry and Bright at the Holidays.”

Do you remember back at Thanksgiving when I told you I ran across a distressing Tweet from someone talking about suicide? I ended up getting busy that day and didn’t get a chance to look back for the Tweet until the next day. I was so afraid I wouldn’t find it, but I did. I felt compelled to respond…another nudge from the Holy Spirit to go where I’m needed. I reached out and heard back. I know very little about this person. I don’t know age…male or female…nothing. I’m very careful to encourage seeking professional care, which is being done. It feels as though the crisis of three weeks ago has eased a bit and now we are communicating. The last message was…

“Why are you doing this? I’m not used to a stranger extending so much kindness and praying for me.”

I’m not telling you this to draw attention in a “look what I did” kind of way. What I’m trying to demonstrate is what Pastor Justin preached on last Sunday.

LOVE>HATE

Love is greater than hate. The Bible instructs us in this. If my brother weeps, I should weep with him. We are instructed to sit with them. In Ezekiel 3, Ezekiel has started having visions of God and God is instructing him to go down to the exiles in Tel Aviv and “sit where they sit”. In other words, spend time with them in their circumstances so that he might better understand where they are coming from.

When my Twitter friend asked why I am being so kind and praying, my answer was direct and honest.

“Because, I was in a dark place one time. I OD’d and almost died. I saw the damage it did to my family. No one really heard my pain till I finally got a good therapist after the OD. I am now an encourager. It is my mission in life to lift up others and pray for them.”

Not everyone is having a Hallmark Holiday. When you come across someone who is hurting, sit where they sit for a while. Offer what you can. Pray with them. Be quiet with them. You never know when you might be the person to tie the knot in the end of another person’s rope so they can keep from slipping off. ❤️

“Then I came to them of the captivity at Tel–abib, that dwelt by the river of Chebar, and I sat where they sat, and remained there astonished among them seven days.”
Ezekiel 3:15 KJV

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

My “Other Mother”

Sun, 09 Dec 2018 02:30:08 -0600

“My beautiful “Other Mother”, Louisa.”

Most of the time, when you talk about your “Other Mother”, it’s the mom of your best friend from high school. My mom was my sister/friend’s “Other Mother”. They were tight, especially after I married and moved to England. They would go to the beach together and have a grand time. I was thrilled they enjoyed that relationship since I didn’t live near my mom.

God brought me my “Other Mother” when I needed her the most. Louisa and her husband, John, walked into my needlework shop in 2003, the year before my own mother passed away. He knew I was going to need a good woman friend to mother me through that loss. Louisa and John had moved to the Western Slope of Colorado after he retired a few years before. She wanted to learn to do something with her hands. She had a needlepoint kit hanging around and wanted me to teach her. Her vision was slowly deteriorating from Macular Degeneration so she needed something that didn’t involve terribly fine work.

I scheduled an hour to sit with Louisa. That day, as we were gathering our work together, I asked her what her husband had done for a living. She said he was an Internal Medicine physician. Hmmmm. That’s what Hubby #2 did. We had been separated for three years by this point.

“How was that for YOU?” I asked.

The ensuing conversation put all thoughts of needlepoint out of our minds and we proceeded to share our stories. Our paths were remarkably similar. We both had suffered from a clinical depression. Her marriage survived that. Mine did not. We bonded that day and became incredibly close.

When Mr. Virgo and I decided to get married, I asked Louisa and John to stand in as my “parents” at the wedding. They were so thrilled to do so. I’ll never forget when Louisa toasted us and shared how honored she and John were to be included in such a way.

When I moved home to West Virginia, Louisa and I remained close and spoke often on the phone. Every time I went to Colorado for a visit, we spend some quality time together…sometimes I even stayed at their house. We visited last summer when I was home and I noticed right away there had been a rapid deterioration in both John and Louisa. John’s mind was rapidly slipping away to dementia. Louisa’s COPD was taking it’s toll. She was always impeccably dressed when you went to visit. This time, she was seated in her ladie’s wing-backed chair in her dressing gown, her lovely hair slight disheveled in wisps around her face.

She was still her sharp-witted self, but I could see she was weary. We didn’t visit for too long. Her son had been staying with them for a bit to help out. We parted with promised to talk often.

The summer was eaten up with medical visits and soon it was fall before we spoke again. She was trying to be a good soldier, but I could tell how weary she was. We spoke in October when I shared Mr. FixIt and I were soon getting married. She was thrilled. She met him the summer before and loved him. However, she was a proper, old-school, Southern Belle from Owensboro, Kentucky and she did not like us living together without being married.

I was going to call her last week but one thing and another came up. Finally, this past Monday, I got this urgent “nudge” to call her so I listened.

The first thing she said was, “So, are you married yet????” She was in hospice care now.

“Yes, ma’am. We got married on the 13th of October.”

“Ok, good. You know I didn’t like that!” She gently scolded.

“Yes, my dear…I know.”

She told me her granddaughter was being married next month and she just wanted to live till that happened. Our sweet Miss Louisa went home to God late that evening. I was so glad I had listened to that still small voice that said, “Call Louisa.”

I didn’t find out till a mutual friend texted me yesterday. I was crushed, as you are in the first few moments after hearing of such a loss. After I had a good cry, I thought of my Miss Louisa sitting down to “tea”…her vernacular for a good stiff cocktail. Maybe she’s sitting with Mr. Virgo and my mom…enjoying a lovely visit…talking about me and shaking their heads at stories of my misadventures. Whatever she is doing, I know I will sit with her again some sunny day. But, my oh my…this has been a difficult couple of months. I want my loved ones to stop dying now, thank you very much. Cumulative grief is a very real phenomenon. You can read more about it through the link below. ?

https://whatsyourgrief.com/cumulative-grief-aka-grief-overload/

“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

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

Just Ask Alexa

Thu, 06 Dec 2018 02:30:39 -0600

“The turkey finally thawed!!!”

This is the Tale of The Turkey That Refused to Thaw. Remember I told you we bought a 25# turkey for Thanksgiving? We bought it two weeks in advance. Eight days before I was going to cook for the family, Mr. FixIt removed the turkey from the freezer and put it in the fridge. The day before I was going to cook, I checked the turkey and it was still frozen solid. I ended up buying a fresh turkey and saved the day.

I got lots of good feedback about thawing the turkey in a cold water bath. However, since I already had a 20# turkey cooked and had lots of leftovers, I wasn’t in very much of a hurry. I left the turkey in the fridge in the garage and checked it every couple of days. Finally, two days ago, I checked and there was a small amount of juices in the fridge so I brought the turkey in the house to roast. Well, once I got it in the sink, I realized that it was STILL two thirds frozen! It’s like this thing would NOT give up.

I placed the turkey, in its original packaging, in a clean cooler, covered it with cold water and added ice on top. I closed the lid and checked it Tuesday. The ice had melted together into one large lump and was adhered to the turkey. I was beginning to think it was generating its own refrigeration! I checked it again Tuesday night and topped it off with a little more ice. I was making headway.

Finally, yesterday morning, I pulled the turkey out of the cooler and it was thawed! Still, when I reached into the cavity to pull out the neck, there was still a large chunk of solid ice in there. Unbelievable!

The fresh turkey I bought was a Honeysuckle White. I brined it, stuffed a quartered lemon and orange in the cavity along with a bundle of fresh herbs, pressed a half pound of softened butter mixed with garlic, fresh rosemary and thyme between the skin and the breast, then brushed the skin with melted butter. I sprinkled salt, fresh ground pepper, rustic herbs, and poultry seasoning on the skin and popped it in a 325 degree oven till the breast measured 170 degrees on a meat thermometer and the juices ran clear between the thigh and the body. It was divine!

Yesterday’s turkey didn’t get a brine. It was a Butterball and they are injected with a saline solution before freezing. I still stuffed the body cavity with cut up orange and lemon and a bundle of fresh herbs. I injected the breasts and thighs with melted butter and brushed more butter on the skin before sprinkling the same seasonings on top as the other turkey I roasted. I didn’t put butter under the skin of this one.

About 5 hours or so later, it was ready. In the meantime, I entertained myself by asking Alexa to open Butterball. You can ask all kinds of questions and get recipes texted to your phone. You can even ask for a turkey joke. It’s always good to have fun when you’re cooking! ❤️

“Then a voice told him, “Get up, Peter. Kill and eat.””
Acts 10:13 NIV

Plantar-Palmar Psoriasis: A Conundrum

Mon, 03 Dec 2018 02:30:01 -0600

“The difference CBD Ointment made after just two weeks of use is absolutely remarkable!”

Refresher:

After Mr. Virgo died, I developed an autoimmune disorder. It took three years to diagnose what was happening to my skin. As you can see in the photo on the left, my skin thickened, dried, split, and peeled. Then it started all over again. Cycle after cycle. My feet were just as bad. Occasionally it would appear on my elbows or on random spots on my legs. Much mostly just the palms of my hands and soles of my feet. It got so bad that I had to wrap my feet with duct tape to keep them from splitting open. I went through thousands of bandaids as I had to keep my fingers wrapped constantly…for comfort and also out of embarrassment.

I went to doctor after doctor. I used every over the counter product there was available. I went through dozens of tubes of expensive medications. Nothing worked. Finally, my doctor found the correct diagnosis…Plantar Palmar Psoriasis. Still, the medications for it didn’t work. The next thing to try was systemic steroids or one of the new, strong drugs for psoriasis. They also talked about doing light therapy. I was not happy with either scenario.

I was in Colorado visiting, and a friend saw my hands. She suggested I go to a marijuana dispensary to see if they had something to offer. I did, after much contemplation. I didn’t want the psychoactive effects of marijuana but I would do just about anything for relief. This had become debilitating. I showed them my hands and they recommended an ointment. It cost $50 for a small jar. One jar lasts about 1-2 months, depending how often I have to use it.

The difference between the photo on the left and the photo on the right is two weeks. Two weeks! I had been struggling for three years and cannabis fixed it in two weeks. Now, this is not legal in West Virginia, so I can only use CBD ointment…the kind without THC. THC is the psychoactive ingredient in marijuana. As it turned out, when I used the ointment with the THC, I only felt very mild effects the very first time I used it. After that, I felt nothing. Using CBD without THC is a no brainer. It couldn’t get you high if you ate it straight out of the jar.

Last year, I was in Fruth Pharmacy in Mineral Wells getting something and noticed a case up front with CBD oils and ointments in it. I was thrilled to know that I could replenish my supply of ointment locally and not have to order it over the internet. I went in yesterday as my little jar is almost empty. The case was gone! I asked what happened and the clerk said they had to get rid of it. I asked who told them they had to get rid of it. The answer? The government.

Yes. These are the same people who say I have to be carded at the age of 65 when I buy non-alcohol beer but a 12 year old can buy Listerine which is 54 Proof. I don’t understand. It’s ridiculous. I am not asking for opioids. I am not seeking a high. I am not looking to used anything that is addictive. All I want is CBD ointment or oil. Cannabidiol. Look at these photos. If this isn’t photographic evidence of the efficacy of cannabis in the treatment of psoriasis, I don’t know what is. God made all the plants of the field. ALL of the plants. Some plants are poisonous…but this plant offers healing when used properly and it should be made available everywhere.

❤️

“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

Disclaimer: Remember, I am not a doctor and I cannot give medical advice I’m just telling you what worked for me. I can’t be responsible for what may or may not occur if you choose to follow my example. I showed my doctors and they were stunned.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow...Bluebirds Fly

Thu, 29 Nov 2018 02:30:37 -0600

“Ron Rudolph and his grandson building bluebird houses in memory of his late wife.”

I have told you many times that Mr. Virgo sends me bluebirds. It first began when I stood by his grave…heart broken…sobbing, when I heard a birdsong nearby. I looked to my right and just a few feet away, a bluebird sat on a pole and was singing. It lifted something in my heart. I could feel my husband’s presence and it was comforting. Since then, countless bluebirds show up at odd times. Mr. FixIt and I have taken to saying hello to him out loud when we see them.

This sweet man I am married to called me into the family room yesterday and said, “Look, I want you to see this.”

I sat down to watch a segment on the Today show about a man in Minnesota. Ron Rudolph lost his wife to a brain tumor this past January. When he found himself wandering around the house in the middle of the night, he decided to go out to his wood shop. He saw a bluebird house hanging on the wall. His wife loved bluebirds and he had made several of the houses to place around their yard for her to enjoy. He decided to cut out a few birdhouses to keep his hands, and his mind, busy.

After constructing several birdhouses, he enlisted his daughter’s help in setting up a way to sell them. He wanted others to enjoy bluebirds, in his wife’s memory. Now, there are four generations building bluebird houses in his shop and a portion of the proceeds goes to the hospice that cared for his late wife.

I reached out to Ron yesterday and shared my story of losing Mr. Virgo. I asked if I could share his story with you here and he was thrilled. I have ordered two bluebird houses…one for the Ponderosa and another for the farm. I know you will love this story as much as I have. I’m looking forward to getting to know this beautiful family better.

You can find the Today Show story posted on their Facebook page: Rudolph’s Bluebird Houses

www.facebook.com/166886557…

❤️

“All you saints! Sing your hearts out to GOD! Thank him to his face! He gets angry once in a while, but across a lifetime there is only love. The nights of crying your eyes out give way to days of laughter.”
Psalm 30:4-5 MSG

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 Voice From the Darkness

Mon, 26 Nov 2018 02:30:26 -0600

“Depression keeps you isolated from those who might help you.”

In between cooking and visiting with my family at our Thanksgiving dinner Saturday, I checked my Twitter account. Someone was asking a question about assisted suicide. I have a contact on Twitter whose husband elected assisted death when his Stage 4 colon cancer became untreatable. In order to connect the two, i had to pop out of his tweet to find her profile. But when I tried to find the original tweet with the question, I couldn’t find it. Rather than take the time to scroll through, I typed “assisted suicide” in the search bar.

Apparently, there was a program on about it on TV because it was a trending topic of conversation. I started scrolling down through till I came upon a cry for help that alarmed me. Someone with no followers tweeted “How can I find someone to assist with my suicide?” I clicked on the profile and scrolled down reading tweet after tweet over the past day saying things like “I want to die.” I couldn’t get it out of my mind but I fell asleep before I could find it again.

Today after church, I went on the hunt for this person and clicked follow. Then I tweeted, “Are you ok?” Finally I got a response. “I’m still alive but I don’t want to be.” I went on to explain how I understood this. I went through a terrible depression and overdosed nearly 19 years ago. I asked how I could help. The response was, “How can you help? I’m on medicine but it’s not working.” I asked, “Do you have someone to talk to?” The answer, “Not really.” I explained that if the medicine wasn’t working, a counselor or therapist could help as well as the physician who prescribed it.

Before I could hear back, I did two things. I Googled “What do you do if someone on Twitter threatens suicide?” I received a link to the help section of Twitter with a form to report an account if you suspect someone is talking about harming themselves. I filled out the form, hoping and praying that someone other than only me would reach out and this person could get help. After the form was submitted, there was a list of resources in multiple countries for suicide hotlines. I took screenshots and tweeted them to the person. I tweeted, “I hope you believe me when I say you matter. There is only one you. God puts us here for a purpose. Don’t leave before you find out what that is. There is always, always hope. I care.” The response was, “Thank you very much.”

I haven’t heard anything else. I haven’t seen any more tweets but I will keep my eye out and watch the profile. This is a difficult time of year for some people. Not everyone has love and light and abundant happiness over the holidays. I don’t know this person’s circumstances. I don’t know gender, age, location. I know nothing except this is a hurting soul and I will do what I can to help and give some hope. Please pray for this person that he/she/they find the help needed. ❤️

“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

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline '1-800-273-TALK (8255)'

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

Nothing Like the Last Minute

Thu, 22 Nov 2018 02:30:28 -0600

“A fresh turkey takes the guesswork out of thawing.”

We were going to leave yesterday to travel to my cousin’s for Thanksgiving dinner but they have a loved one in the hospital and wouldn’t be home till late. We decided to leave bright and early this morning as that would give us another day to prepare for our company coming Saturday.

Mr. FixIt and I bought a 25# turkey in preparation for 14 guests and plenty of leftovers. We bought said bird early last week. I pulled it from the freezer and put it in the fridge in the garage on Friday. I figured it would be totally defrosted in the ensuing eight days. Well, yesterday morning it was still hard as a rock. I mean, maybe the slightest icy give under the skin, but that’s it. No way that monster is going to be ready for Saturday’s guests. Heck, it might not be ready for CHRISTMAS at that rate.

I pulled the turkey from the fridge and let it sit in a galvanized tub on the basement floor till I realized the temps are supposed to be down in the twenties over the next few nights. That thing will never make it and since we’ll be gone for a couple of days, I can’t put it in the sink with water or leave it out of the fridge in case global warming shifts into high gear before Friday. I made the decision…I had to go to town and buy a fresh turkey. On the day before Thanksgiving. In a small town. My chances of meeting success were drastically slim.

I left Mr. FixIt and his vacuuming (for the fourth or fifth time this week…I’m not sure there are fibers left in this carpet. But, I digress.) and headed to town. The first store I come to…besides Dollar General…is Walmart. Since Dollar General most assuredly doesn’t carry fresh turkey, I elected to stop at Walmart. I didn’t hold out much hope and I was totally prepared to have to drive all over town. I sent up a little prayer and said, “Lord, you know I’ll drive all over town to find a fresh turkey but I sure would love it if You would make sure I find one at the first store I come to?” Sure enough, there was my turkey…and everything else I needed!

“Homemade chocolate cake…Grandma Lois’ recipe.”

I came home and baked a cake for today. My son-in-law’s mom makes this cake all the time. Her mom got the recipe in an exchange at her ladies club years ago. It uses buttermilk, mayonnaise, and boiling water and it is the BEST chocolate cake I think I have ever had!

“Butter crunch lettuce…one hour from harvest to table…in November! Hydroponics rule!”

Later in the day, my friend Diane posted she had just bought some hydroponic lettuce produced in our tiny little town. I asked where I could get some and she brought a head over as a gift. It was fabulous and I can assure you, this is where I’ll be purchasing my salad greens this winter. And…NO fear of E. Coli! Win-win.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday. May your turkey be tender and your gravy lump-free! I am thankful for all of you!!! ❤️

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.”
1 Chronicles 16:34 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

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 Bad News vs The Good News

Fri, 16 Nov 2018 02:30:22 -0600

“This young man defeated the odds with determination and perseverance.”

You and I both know the news is heavily sensationalized in order to sell. The competition to get the most readers quite often outweighs deserving recognition of “feel good news”. Feel good stories get shuffled back in the paper to Section D, page 12, below the fold.

I read a story yesterday. You may have seen something in late summer about a young woman who ran out of gas on an interstate off ramp. She reported a homeless man offered her his last $20 to buy gas. She was so taken by his selfless generosity, she and her boyfriend started a Go Fund Me page to reward this man and help him get off the streets. In this day and age, with so much bad news coming at you in every direction, we all wanted to celebrate this kind man’s honest gesture.

Money flooded in and soon the Go Fund Me account had over $140,000 in it. It wasn’t long till things started taking a twist. The man who was supposed to be the recipient of this windfall sued the young couple and said they were holding onto the money for themselves and he wasn’t getting what he deserved. After a thorough investigation, the whole thing unraveled as a scheme cooked up by three people who knew each other for several months after meeting in Las Vegas. They are all charged with fraud and theft and I don’t know what all. It’s a sad thing to see thieves take advantage of well meaning folks with such a ruse. It harms legitimate attempts to help deserving people who are down on their luck.

When I am overwhelmed by the badness of bad news, I go looking for GOOD news. Stories that uplift, reward, honor people who make a difference. People who are often the unsung heroes. The humble and kind folk who don’t draw attention to themselves. I found one such story in Richard “Tre” Jenkins. This young man spend the majority of his childhood moving from one homeless shelter to another. Somewhere around the sixth grade, he realized…unless he wanted history to repeat itself, he wanted his future offspring to have a better childhood. He was already smart, but he kicked it into overdrive and started working hard at school. He enrolled in after school programs that helped him improve his writing and then applied for a scholarship to a college prep high school for children of poor, single-parents. He received that scholarship then applied to, and was accepted by…Harvard University on a full ride scholarship.

His uncle did set up a Go Fund Me page to help him with expenses that are not covered by his scholarship such as books, a laptop, and other essentials. Hard work should be rewarded and acknowledged.

For every bad news story…look for the good news stories that blow them out of the water. Don’t believe there is no good in humanity. Don’t buy that. Often the bad news stories that are being put out there are being done so on purpose…to provide a smokescreen. To divert our attention from something else going on that maybe someone doesn’t want you to know about. Paranoid? I don’t think so. Every time I hear something absolutely outrageous, there’s usually someone behind the screen, pulling the strings. Sort of like the Great and Powerful Oz…just a pathetic old man yelling into a microphone from behind a curtain….hoping you won’t see how small he really is. ❤️

“They will have no fear of bad news; their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord.” Psalm 112:7 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

Triggers: Learning to See

Mon, 12 Nov 2018 02:30:17 -0600

“Triggers are sounds, smells, or sights that bring back traumatic memories.”

According to GoodTherapy.org, a trigger in psychology is a stimulus such as a smell, sound, or sight that triggers feelings of trauma. People typically use this term when describing post traumatic stress disorder. (PTSD) This reminder can cause a person to feel something as innocuous as sadness clear across the spectrum to a full blown panic attack.

The first time I remember being triggered was when I lived in England. I was on the military base with my husband and was pregnant with my first child. This was a very large base with hundreds of buildings and lots of things to do. Occasionally, a military base goes on lockdown if there has been some sort of threat. On this particular day, there was an alarm and the gates were closed and locked. No one could get in or out.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I had this terrible feeling of being trapped and that caused me to go into full on panic mode. Hubby #1 had to talk me off the ledge. It wasn’t until twenty years later when I was in therapy that I finally figured out what that was all about. I was trapped in a garage and sexually assaulted when I was 8 years old. Ever since then, being someplace where I can’t get out fast triggers my memory of that trauma.

The first trigger I experienced after losing Mr. Virgo was at a summer fair. A man next to me started choking. Like…Heimlich Maneuver choking. Instead of seeing the man and helping (as I have been trained to do) I froze and had a flashback. It was literally like someone dimmed the lights and turned the movie on and I was watching Mr. Virgo getting CPR again. It was brutal. I later discovered it was PTSD and had EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy.

I have had several sessions of grief therapy and it’s been well over five years now since Mr. Virgo died. I don’t have nearly the negative response to triggers that I used to have. But triggers are still there and can still trip me up. It’s usually when I’m tired or sick or when they come in clusters. That’s what happened recently.

Here I am, newly married and happy as a clam. All the running around and planning and fixing up the home place for the wedding wore me out. The day after our wedding, my aunt died. Several friends either were desperately ill or lost close members of their family. Trigger after trigger kept coming. I could see a dark wave in the distance. I recognize a grief wave when I see one now because I can identify triggers. I couldn’t do that early on. It’s one of the benefits of good therapy, time, and distance.

Instead of sinking down under a blanket of sadness, I went to the farm and had some quiet time. I cuddled up under the blankets in my grandma’s bed. I listened to the sounds of the old farmhouse that has become such an old friend. I invited the dark wave to come closer and as it did, I practiced a mental exercise. I gathered up buckets of dark, foamy grief and handed them to Jesus. Bucket after bucket after bucket…I let it go right past me, right through me, instead of drowning me. I talked my way through it. I acknowledged that triggers come and I don’t have to succumb to the pain anymore. I don’t have to carry the weight of that burden anymore. I don’t have to feel desperate and panicky anymore.

Being at this point was something I couldn’t even imagine five years ago. Having this level of strength and peace was something I never dreamed I could attain four years ago. Three years ago…two years ago…I was beginning to see. I was beginning to have hope. I will never be the same as I was before the traumas I have suffered. I will continue to evolve and learn and grow. I have learned to turn stumbling blocks into stepping stones. This is one of the gems I found in the flames of grief. ❤️

“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

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

#Grief & #Love

Tue, 30 Oct 2018 01:30:02 -0600

“Mr. FixIt fishing on the Outer Banks.”

This man. This love. There was a tipping point in my grief. That point where you cross a raging river and the bridge collapses after you. You can’t go back. And, once you’ve lived in the new place a while, you know things have changed in your heart. That other place isn’t your home anymore. This is where you belong. Where you were meant to be. The whole exercise made possible because of the sum of your experiences.

Do I wish Mr. Virgo hadn’t died? Of course I do. But I live in this world now. This life. This is the phoenix rising.

This man. This love. ❤️

“Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.” 1 John 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

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

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. ❤️

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!!!!!

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.

❤️

Instant Gratification

Wed, 03 Oct 2018 01:30:13 -0600

“The only monarch butterfly I have seen in WV in the four years I’ve been back, and it was lying dead in the field. I was to harvest milkweed pods this year and try to bring some monarchs back.”

“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

So, yesterday I told you I’m a “risk-taking storyteller”. I’m sure it’s no surprise to any of you who have been following me for some time if I tell you…I am also “Instant Gratification Girl”! If I can’t get it done yesterday, I’ve been known to pitch a hissy fit. Patience has never been my forte.

I stopped praying for patience a long time ago when I figured out God was sending me MANY situations in which to practice. I know I’m not fooling Him one bit, but I do thank Him for what little patience I DO have.

I may have told you this story before. I’ve told so many, it’s hard to remember. When I was a little girl, I desperately wanted a pair of black, patent leather Mary Janes. Mom took me to the shoe store and the only pair they had left was a half size too small. When my mom told the man we’d keep looking. I had a major meltdown. To my little overdramatic self, that meant I would NEVER, EVER get them! Mom caved and bought them for me and forced me to wear them for a month till I was broken of that behavior.

Well, maybe.

Monday evening, I went over to Mr. FixIt’s and mowed till it got too dark to do it safely. I went in to get a cold drink and was sitting on the sofa when I saw them. An army of stink bugs! Do you think either of us could have possibly remembered what arrives in WV on the 1st of October? Nooooooo. Hot on their stinky little heels will be the Asian Lady Bugs. Oy! Both of these little boogers swarm en masse and I can just imagine myself walking down the aisle looking like a Ninja as they swarm and land in my hair!

Breathe.

OmmmmmmmMyGosh!!!!

I put an urgent message out on FB. “Is there anything to keep these things at bay for a few hours?” I got lots of suggestions, including changing the wedding date. No! Absolutely not! I want my “patent leather shoes”, darn it!

Here’s how I’m going to deal with this. We’ve managed to pull together a beautiful wedding in less than a month. The average cost of a wedding in the US today is $27,000. Ours is going to be gorgeous for far less than 10% of that. (Did I tell you I used to do this for a living? Mr. Virgo taught me well!) Everything is ordered. The tent comes the 10th giving us plenty of time to decorate it. I’m going to smoke the pork butts this weekend for the pulled pork, bag it and pop it in the freezer till Wednesday. Then late Saturday morning it goes in a slow oven to finish off. I have plenty of helpers coming that Friday and Saturday. I have a final fitting on the dress next Wednesday and it will be ready to pick up Friday. We can get the coleslaw and buns that afternoon. The sodas go in the fridge Friday and on ice in the galvanized tubs Saturday. The photographer arrives at 2:00. The cake gets delivered at 3:00.

See? Everything that I CAN control is under control. The rest of it I can do nothing about. Weather OR bugs. And…it will be perfect. I was thinking about this “instant gratification” thing and my word for the year….presence…popped into my head. This is my last wedding. Seriously. I’m never doing this again. I want to stay in the moment and memorize it all. We want to enjoy this, not stress out about it. So, that’s just what I’m going to do.

I really didn’t like those patent leather Mary Janes anyway. ❤️

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! ❤️

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. ❤️

A Change of Status

Tue, 25 Sep 2018 01:30:40 -0600

“The change from “widow” to “engaged” deserves a moment of reflection.”

““Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” Matthew 7:7 NIV

I did something monumental yesterday. I changed my relationship status on Facebook from “widow” to “engaged”. Ok, in the grand scheme of things, that’s not really monumental...but it IS, you know?

Some people change their relationship status like they change their shoes. I remember that first attempt at “dating” after Mr. Virgo died. It was (I’m embarrassed to say) only five months after he died. I know, I know. Plenty of my friends and my family were like…”WTH are you DOING???” What I was doing was putting a tourniquet on my hemorrhaging heart. I went so far as to change my relationship status and knew immediately that was a HUGE error in judgment. Let’s face it…when you are grieving, good judgment goes out the window for quite some time.

It wasn’t long till the status went back to “widow” and there it has stayed for the last five years. When I tell my story, I start out with “My husband and I had decided life was too short to wait for retirement to have some fun…” Always the same. I’ve had people misunderstand my story for “wallowing in my grief”. That isn’t it at all…at least not after a couple of years. I tell my story so that others may not feel so alone in their grief. So that others may learn that when grief strikes, you don’t have to crawl into a ball and stay there forever. I tell my story to give people hope that there is life in spite of grief.

It’s not like I haven’t thought about changing my status before now. After all, Mr. FixIt and I have been engaged for over a year. And, it has nothing to do with my feelings for him. I love him dearly and want to be with him the rest of my life. It’s just five little letters, but widow is what I’ve related to for five-and-a-half years. It does not define me anymore, but it will always be a part of who I am. I was fiddling around on Facebook yesterday and just had this flash.

“You’re getting married in nineteen days, girlfriend. It’s time.” Without giving it a second thought, I went from “widow” to “engaged”. Then I sat and looked at it. Wow. This is huge. Yet, not. Yet, it is. I’m finally ready to put “widow” in second place. And now, when I tell my Mr. Virgo story, it will start out with “My late-husband and I decided…”

I’m making a concerted shift in consciousness. My focus will be more forward-thinking. My posts will have lots of new stories and color and joy and adventure. It feels like I’m leaving something behind, though. That’s one reason I’ve been staying over at the farm alone a lot lately. I need some alone time to process that. To package it up and set it on a shelf. I can still reach it. I can still take it out and look at it. I’m just not going to sit with it in my lap so much. This is all about healing and moving forward and letting go. The shift from one status to the other deserves a moment of honor and reflection. It’s good. It’s all so very good. ❤️

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. ❤️

Holding Things

Tue, 18 Sep 2018 01:30:53 -0600

“Crocks waiting for a new home.”

“Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4 NIV

I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandma lately. I’ve been so busy the last three weeks that I haven’t had a chance to spend much time at the farm. Mr. FixIt and I were thinking of going camping this weekend, but for a number of reasons...not the least of which is being just plain tired of running around...we’ve decided to head to the farm for a much needed respite.

The change of seasons are especially beautiful there. As things come to life in the spring and the dark grays of winter turn to buds of green, my heart soars because I’m heading into my favorite season. I’ve always had a little more difficulty accepting the changes of fall because that mean the dark days of winter are close on its heels. Mr. Virgo always told me, “It’s all in your head. It’s just a matter of what you tell yourself. If you say you hate winter, then guess what? You’re going to hate it!” He was right, of course. So, this fall, I am planning some really special things that will make the season joyful and beautiful. I’m going to do some heavy fall decorating this year. I want to get pumpkins and bittersweet, corn shocks and straw bales, Indian corn and maybe even some clear twinkly lights and dress up the farm. Won’t that be pretty?

I’ll take you along with me as I pick and choose. Maybe we’ll go to a pumpkin patch. Maybe we’ll find a cider press. Whatever we do, we’re going to make this season extra special so I won’t dread winter. Just like grandma’s old crocks that used to hold things, I’m going to use my heart as a vessel to hold beautiful things and make new memories! ?

Road Trip #2 - Fall 2018

Thu, 13 Sep 2018 01:30:23 -0600

“I’m on a road trip…but nothing like this!!!”

“Get ready; be prepared! ...” Ezekiel 38:7 NLT

This is a picture of a “traffic jam”. It was billed as the hurricane evacuation for Florence, but I’ve since learned it’s “fake news”. I don’t know if it’s LA at rush hour or a real hurricane evacuation or totally made up in photo shop, but I imagine they all look the same.

People are fleeing Hurricane Florence by the droves and the looks of this mess horrifies me. There has to be a better way to mass evacuate people other than sitting in parking lots on the freeway. This is dangerous on so many levels. My prayers are with all those who are in the line of the storm.

My road trip yesterday was nothing like this! I started my day off with a followup appointment with one of the specialists I was referred to and I am so pleased to say the biopsies were benign. I am blessed again! Of all the tests and procedures I’ve had done since June, there were only a couple of things found and they can be treated with medication, diet, exercise, and a little weight loss. So, my road trip started out on the right foot!

I haven’t pulled TOW-Wanda since April when I went to Beaver Creek State Park for Spring What a Hoot. When I got her home, one of the hubs was hotter than the others and I was worried there might be something wrong with the bearings on that wheel. With all the medical issues I’ve had this summer, I never got around to hoisting her up on a jack and having a look at that bearing. I knew I couldn’t take her last weekend to Beaver Creek because there is a really steep hill up to the campground and my truck just doesn’t have the power to pull her up there. Mr. FixIt’s truck has a recall on the frame so it couldn’t be trusted. That’s why I borrowed my friend’s Avion.

You know how sometimes you have a problem and you have to puzzle over it for a while before you see the solution? Well, on each wheel, there is a hub cover that protects the grease fitting for the hub. A few years ago, I had a blowout and when AAA changed the tire, they didn’t put the hub cover back. That was a blessing in disguise because when Mr. FixIt and I were driving through Indiana last summer, that is the hub that blew. If that cap would have been on there, we wouldn’t have seen it and there could have been a terrible accident if the wheel froze or worse yet…flew off while driving on the highway. We tried to jack up the camper Tuesday night but the jack wasn’t strong enough. I decided to stop at Walmart and have them take those covers off so I could get in there and grease the bearings. While we were standing there telling the guy what we needed, Mr. FixIt and I looked at each other and had an A-HA moment. Turns out, the end of those little hub covers pop right off with a screw driver so you can easily grease your hubs. A little pump of grease before you head out on a trip will really protect your hubs from overheating. Unfortunately, these are not things they teach you when you go over your camper at the dealer. They don’t necessarily want you doing maintenance…they want you to bring the camper to them. That doesn’t always work out when you travel as much as I have in this camper in the last four years.

Once we added the grease to the hub, I was off on my next adventure. I stopped twice and checked the temperature of the hubs with a digital infrared thermometer with a laser target. Three hubs were 95 degrees and the worrisome hub was only 105. Not enough to worry about, but I’ll keep an eye on it. While I was down under the camper, I did notice a wired bundle that somehow dropped down and was mangled by the wheel. After carefully tracing it, it turned out to be the cable/antenna and I don’t use that, so it’s tucked up away until I can get it fixed some time in the future.

So, my friends and I are here at the campground. I spend a few hours cleaning and organizing the camper and now it is fresh and tidy. I am leaving it in the campground during the duration of the fair because it’s a nice oasis for breaks and lunch. I have the ice machine hooked up that I bought on sale at the end of the season last year. There’s a flat of water bottles in the fridge and freezer. And the AC is working well. There’s a nice shower waiting for anyone who might need it. Today we will set up the Girl Camper display. This is the most fun part! Decorating and letting other women see what fun camping can be. This will be my sixth Country Living Fair. I can’t wait to share all the photos with you! ❤️

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. ❤️

Knowing When to Quit

Mon, 10 Sep 2018 01:30:40 -0600

“Rain, rain, go away…we still camped and had fun!”

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” 1 Corinthians 9:24 NIV

I had an absolute blast this week camping with the Girl Campers! Even when it started raining and didn’t quit. Even when I got cold and wet and hadn’t had a shower since Tuesday. Mr. FixIt came up and that was icing on the cake. But, as you can see on the weather radar, home was getting slammed as hard, if not harder than the campground up north and that puts our basement at risk of flooding. So, my sweetie was up and kissed me goodbye at five o’clock yesterday morning. On his way down the hill from the campground, he had to stop and move a tree that had fallen across the road. Then there was a rock slide near the house that held him up a bit. But he made it home safely, for which I was very grateful.

I managed to get a little more sleep then joined the rest of the gals in Gail’s fifth wheel. We laughed and ate and knitted and had a blast. In the middle of the afternoon, I took a little snooze and when I woke up, I was cold and damp and there was no Mr. FixIt around to warm me up. I looked at my watch, calculated the time and distance from home, and figured I could be there and showered before dark. I threw my stuff in bags, dragged it out in the pouring rain, and loaded up the truck. I was soaked to the skin by the time I was finished, but as soon as I made my goodbyes, I got in the truck, took off my wet coat, and cranked up the heat and I was dry and toasty in no time. I got home just at dark and as soon as I had the important stuff unloaded, I took that long, hot shower and felt like a new woman!!! There is one thing that does NOT go with Girl Camping…whining. And I was getting dangerously close to it! Steroids make me agitated and I didn’t want anyone to be subjected to a temper tantrum.

When I was alone after losing Mr. Virgo, I took off by myself everywhere. It was either that or stay at home alone. Now, I’m walking this fine line. On the one hand, I have this really great guy that I love spending time with. I have a very real understanding of what it feels like when that is taken away. Consequently, I have found I really don’t like being away from Mr. FixIt for more than two or three days. On the other hand, I need to maintain my independence skills so I’m not caught flat-footed if something should happen to him before me. If it hadn’t been so wet and cold, and if I hadn’t been on steroids, I very likely would have toughed it out and stayed one more night in that sweet camper with my dear friends. However, I knew when to say “uncle” and call it quits. You just have to know which race to run. And, it ended up being a perfect week of camping fun!

Next up is a couple days at home then heading to the Country Living Fair with these same fun gals! ❤️

How To Breathe

Tue, 04 Sep 2018 01:30:50 -0600

“Breathing good air after breathing through a wet sponge is such an incredible feeling of health!”

““Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Matthew 11:28-29 NIV

When I was a teenager, one of my biggest joys was to make my mom laugh. Mom had a difficult life. She had a son with a developmental disability and a husband who drank too much and was not around. And then...she had me. I wasn’t a bad kid, mind you. But I am convinced I had ADHD and was quite the handful...always into something and using my smart mouth to my disadvantage at every turn. So, when I got old enough to discover I could make her laugh, I did so at every opportunity.

Somewhere along the way, I realized when she laughed hard, she would go into a coughing fit. It’s normal to have some coughing after laughing hard as the nerves that control laughter are the same as those that control coughing. As a clueless teenage, that only added to the mirth, but as an adult, I now realize she had a “reactive airway”…a non-medical term that is kind of a placeholder for asthma that hasn’t been diagnosed.

I have the same thing. It usually doesn’t give me any trouble unless I exercise in the cold, or I get a particularly bad cold and the virus kicks my airway into hyperdrive. I tighten up and cant breathe. I cough till I hear the blood rushing through my ears. Usually, the cough is unproductive, meaning I can’t get anything to come up. There is a whole regimen to follow when this happens, but it has been so long since it’s happened, I forgot what it was. Beside the steroids, which I truly do not like, there are inhalers to use…one that is a rescue inhaler that immediately starts to open up an airway that is locked down in spasms, and the other that carries a steroid that treats the lining of the bronchial tubes and eases the inflammation.

The very best thing to use is Mucinex. I don’t know why I didn’t even think to try that last week. I’ve been taking antihistamines all summer for allergies so my lungs were sort of like wet cement. When I got so sick Friday night, it was like trying to breathe through a wet sponge. Once I got the steroids and breathing treatments and some antibiotics in my, I could breathe again. Then the Mucinex finally kicked in and…well, without getting into gory details, let’s just said there was a lot of clearing out the pipes in my my lungs and I can now breathe much freer.

You do not know how bad you have felt until you feel better. I was telling Mr. FixIt yesterday that this is the first time all summer that I have actually felt like I want to get up and go do something fun. I battled gastritis and other stomach issues since last spring that really put me down. Anything I ate upset my stomach and I constantly had a gnawing pain in the upper area of my abdomen. The happy little side effect of all those medicines they gave me in the hospital seems to be my stomach issues have cleared up. No more pain. No more nausea. And, I ate a cheeseburger for dinner last night and it didn’t kill me!

I share an awful lot of personal stuff here, I know. But I figure if others have some of the same grief symptoms I have and I can help with that, maybe there’s someone out there suffering with the same sort of stomach issues that can see a doctor and get some help. I’m not a doctor and I can’t recommend treatments, but I can share what happened to me and hope it helps others. As Ram Dass says…”We are all just walking each other home.” ❤️

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. ❤️

What Do You Do With HIS Stuff?

Sat, 01 Sep 2018 01:30:48 -0600

“Mr. Virgo dressed for the Ritz Carlton.”

“The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:17-18 NIV

We had a good discussion here yesterday about downsizing...a topic near and dear to my heart and one not everyone is interested in. I get that. We like our stuff...it brings back memories, it is proof of what we worked for. But, what do we do with HIS stuff? If you’ve watch any rom/com, you’ll see women throwing the guys stuff out the upstairs window and burning it on the lawn if infidelity or divorce are involved. While I don’t necessarily recommend that, I can see how it would be cathartic. Usually the man takes care of his own stuff in a breakup. That can’t happen when death is involved.

When I was newly widowed, I walked in a daze for weeks. I couldn’t imagine going through Mr. Virgo’s stuff and getting rid of anything. I would often stand in his closet, wrap myself in his clothes that smelled of leather and tobacco and Halston and woods. I grieved to my very core, holding onto the last things he touched. I did this for a few weeks. Then I took off in my little camper for three months.

When I returned, I had screamed and cried out a lot of my initial grief up on the mountaintops. I realized standing in the closet wrapped in his clothes wasn’t healthy for me. My daughter was a teacher at a poor, inner-city school that had a program for young men. They provided a suit and interview training so they would have a better chance at landing good jobs. When I heard about this, something inside me smiled. I knew Mr. Virgo would love to have his suits used for such a purpose. This gave me the impetus to go through his closet. I saved a couple of sweaters, my favorite ties, and his leather bomber jacket. The rest I bagged up.

When I woke up the next day, I reached for my phone and saw message after message on my feed…Happy Father’s Day! I sat up and looked around. All of his clothes were in bags on the floor surrounding the bed. And I had no one to hug for Father’s Day. I always had a bag packed to impromptu camping trips so I went out and hooked up TOW-Wanda and headed for the hills for a few days.

When I got home, I carried the bags out to the car and carted them around for a couple of weeks just to make sure I was really ready to let go. Once I was convinced, I delivered them to my daughter. I would have loved to have heard the stories of successful job interviews!

Once the closet was cleaned out, it wasn’t a big stretch to go through his dresser and get rid of his underwear and socks. I never felt like I was invading his privacy until I got to the top drawer of the highboy and his briefcase. That bothered me. I felt like I was snooping. I knew I had to go through them because there were papers in there that I might need. I did find some things I wasn’t expecting. There were a couple of charge accounts I didn’t know about. And there was an envelope with his and another woman’s name on it addressed to the house he lived in before he moved to Aspen. At first, I was upset by this. I thought I knew everything about him. Then I realized that he didn’t know everything about me either. We were in our mid-50’s when we met. A lot of water had gone under the bridge before we ever set eyes on each other. The new information didn’t change a thing about our relationship. It was still wonderful. So, I let it go.

My way of cleaning out his closet may not be your way. And that is perfectly fine. We all walk down this path in our own way, in our own time. If it’s ten weeks or ten months or ten years, you do what you need to do. I will lay this down here though, and you can pick it up or not. There is a wonderful organization called Career Gear. You can donate suits and business casual clothes to them and they provide training, professional clothing, and mentorship to men in need so they can get good jobs and provide for their families. I saw a story about them, I believe on Sunday Morning. This would be a good place to donate your husband’s clothing. Or, you may find something similar in your area. It’s just a thought.

careergear.org/get-invol…

Another alternative is creating a memory quilt or pillow from items of his clothing. My friend Steve did this. He had memory quilts made for his three kids and teddy bears for his nine grandchildren…all from his late wife’s clothes. It was a wonderful way to memorialize Nana for her family. I don’t know anything about this particular site, but it’s an example.

https://www.toocooltshirtquilts.com/blog/dealing-with-the-clothing-of-a-passed-loved-one

I hope you find your way through this difficult step with peace…no matter when you decide to do it. Just remember to do it your way. Don’t let anyone tell you how or when. ❤️

Here I Go Again...

Fri, 31 Aug 2018 01:30:38 -0600

“All that’s left of forty year’s accumulation.”

“a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,” Ecclesiastes 3:6 NIV

This stuff was out of sight, out of mind for much of the last three years. My very sweet friend, Steve, let me store this in his basement. He seldom went down there, it was clean and dry, and it was safe and secure. On occasion, I would go over and gather a few boxes and bring them to the farm. Winter clothes, camping gear, important papers, pictures...little by little, things were sorted and either saved or sent on to live with someone else via a charitable organization.

Steve was never in a hurry to reclaim the space I was using because, as a widower, he didn’t have any more enthusiasm for going through things than I did. Over the years, his kids have brought things to store and the basement became more and more crowded and cluttered. Last Christmas was the straw that broke the camel’s back when he had to crawl over things to get to his outdoor decorations. We agreed I would have everything out this summer. As you know, summers are so hot and sticky in West Virginia. And I traveled a lot. And I had surgery. And Steve works weird hours. One thing led to another and I didn’t get it done. I promised everything would be out by the end of August.

So, there it is. Other than a few things at the Ponderosa, my two campers, and my pickup…everything I own is sitting right here. This is all that’s left after the purging of forty years of accumulation and selling my house. It’s been a full four years since I downsized and I’ve learned a lot about myself and what I need to be happy. I thought I’d share a few observations here today.

I’ve learned downsizing is not for everyone. That’s ok. People love their stuff. They worked hard for it. They find comfort in it. I get that. I was really on a bandwagon when I faced downsizing, not only as a lifestyle choice, but as a necessity. I preached “Live with less!” Vehemently. My fervor hasn’t died for me personally, but I now realize I came across as perhaps a little insensitive to those who cherish their personal belongings. If that is you, I apologize.
I have a few…but very few…regrets. First, if I had known my stint at the farm helping out my elderly aunt was only going to last 10 weeks, I very likely wouldn’t have purchased such a big travel trailer. I really miss Little TOW-Wanda. At 16’, she was easy to pick up and go with at a moment’s notice. Not so much with the big behemoth that is TOW-Wanda Grande. Second, there are a few pieces of furniture I parted with that I would love to have now. But, I never would have dreamed I would fall in love again and live the life I am living now. Besides, I really do have everything I need.
And, speaking of falling in love again, I have a significant other who hasn’t fallen in love with the idea of simplifying…yet. We are in the early stages of discussing the merits of downsizing, and he is beginning to understand that means you don’t get to keep everything. I totally understand where he is with that. I held onto my stuff for a long, long time…even when my spouse(s) hated the clutter. Mr. FixIt is coming around. It has to be at his pace, at his comfort level, or I’ll come across as trying to make him get rid of everything. I remember what that feels like and it’s isn’t nice.
When you have less stuff to take care of, you have more money and time to get out and enjoy the fun things in life. That is the best lesson I’ve learned from my own experience downsizing.
Remembering to be grateful for what I DO have keeps me from missing what I don’t. It keeps me thinking in terms of abundance rather than deprivation.

Now I face these boxes. Part of me says if I haven’t opened them in four years, what possible use do I have for their contents? I could just take them to a shelter…or to the dump. But, of course, I cannot do that. I have to go through them. I can, and will, be ruthless as I pick and choose what must be kept, what can be given to family members who would appreciate the memories, and what can go to someone else who will love them as much as I did. This is now my cold weather project. I’ll have it done as soon as possible because, I had the farmhouse clean and neat and tidy. I want it back that way quickly.

I find an uncluttered environment equates to an uncluttered life for me. It eases my mind and will certainly make things easier for whoever will be in charge of going through my stuff when I’m dead and gone. I promised myself, and my kids, that I would never leave them with a mess like I was left with when my mom died. As wonderful as she was, she was a pack rat of the highest order and it was such a chore to clean out her house AND deal with the grief of losing her. I don’t want to do that to anyone. So, here I go again! ❤️

And the Thunder Rolls

Thu, 30 Aug 2018 01:30:26 -0600

“Lightning over West Virginia”

““My heart pounds as I think of this. It trembles within me. Listen carefully to the thunder of God’s voice as it rolls from his mouth. It rolls across the heavens, and his lightning flashes in every direction. Then comes the roaring of the thunder— the tremendous voice of his majesty. He does not restrain it when he speaks. God’s voice is glorious in the thunder. We can’t even imagine the greatness of his power.” Job 37:1-5 NLT

The heat and humidity in West Virginia raises the heat index and brings us these amazing thunderstorms. It’s one of the things I always missed in Colorado. Oh, you get storms there...sure. But they don’t sound the same as storms in the rolling hills. There is an echo you just don’t get out west. And I love it!

The last couple of days we have been moving some boxes of my “stuff” from my friend Steve’s basement. We got the last load moved yesterday. Good thing, because it rained last night and we would have had to carry these heavy boxes up a hill instead of driving the truck down to the back of Steve’s house. That’s one thing about lawns here. If they’re wet, you sink down in them.

“Lightning over West Virginia.”

On the way back from picking up the last load, Mr. FixIt saw a house on fire a little over a mile from the Ponderosa. As often happens in outlying rural areas, the house burned to the ground and was a total loss. Fortunately, no one was at home when it burned so there were no injuries.

We took he last load out to the farm and no sooner carried the last box in when the electric went out. No wind. No storm. Just off. This, unfortunately, is NOT uncommon. We waited a while and when it hadn’t come back on after thirty minutes or so, we headed home. We stopped and visited neighbors along the way. That’s something I miss from my childhood. Someone was always stopping by to talk. Now, there are whole neighborhoods who don’t know anyone’s name. That’s sad.

As we were nearing home, I caught a glimpse of lightning in the far off distance. As we got closer, it was obvious a great lightning storm was coming. We stopped on top of the hill so I could video tape the light show. In all my years of photographing nature, I have never caught lightning in a still shot, so I just captured stills from the video and called it good.

My summer cold is easing up a bit, I think. This thick, humid air doesn’t really help that. The rain is supposed to usher in some cooler weather for the next couple of days, and I’m all for that. ❤️

“Lightning over West Virginia.”

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. ❤️

Another Layer of the Onion

Wed, 22 Aug 2018 01:30:47 -0600

“Sunset over the Ponderosa.”

“The Lord examines the righteous, but the wicked, those who love violence, he hates with a passion.” Psalm 11:5 NIV

One would think, after nearly five-and-a-half years as a widow, I wouldn’t still be gaining insights into the nature of grief. After all, I’ve written nearly 2,000 daily essays...many dealing with the subjects of death and dying. I’ve passed many milestones. I’ve fallen in love again. Yet, it never ceases to amaze me when I get to peel back another layer and learn something about myself through the lens of loss.

Before Mr. Virgo died, I never really thought about death…not on the daily anyway. I had certainly dealt with loss. My beloved grandma, my wonderful mom, and even my estranged father. Still, those losses didn’t put death in my sights. Since his death, however, the prospect of losing someone so close to me again has caused me a great deal of anxiety and a fair amount of fear. Early on, there were so many times when I felt I was just one crisis from losing it completely and my prayer was always, “Lord, please keep everyone safe. I can’t lose another one. I don’t have it in me.” I remember telling people I loved to be extra careful. Don’t get hurt. What I was really saying was, “Please, don’t die.”

As I’ve told you often, I don’t watch TV…I catch my news online so I can pick and choose what I watch. I have noticed changes in the last six months or so. I can concentrate enough to read a book now. I can knit again. I can even go to the movies…something I’d only done once since Mr. Virgo died. Mr. FixIt and I went last week and it was wonderful. Things are changing. Things are healing. And, while I don’t make a regular diet of the news, I have watched the news on occasion lately.

It’s culture shock. After not watching TV for years, watching it is…visceral. Politics. Severe weather. Fires. Crime. It’s been a difficult summer in the world. Last week I was transfixed by the case of Chris Watts. While the facts of the case are abhorrent, my interest was from a psychological standpoint. I saw his interviews with the press. I watched his body language. I knew he was lying. And, I knew he was going to blame his wife for killing the girls and then he was going to say it was a crime of passion. It was like the script was written all over his face. Then, yesterday, they found the body of Mollie Tibbetts after a high profile search. Another layer of the onion of grief was pulled back to reveal a deep fear.

Being a grandmother, one cannot watch stories such as these without thinking of your grandchildren. I realized I had watched too much…dived too deep… when I spent the night clutching my pillow to my chest and begging God to protect my people. I felt riddled with anxiety. My granddaughters are adolescents…attractive, smart, gregarious. I want them to be invisible. I want them to walk around with a force field. I want them to stay in their rooms till they are forty. But, of course I don’t really. I want them to live their lives. I want them to be joyful. I want them to learn and have adventures and be strong women. I just want them to be safe.

I will back away from the television now. It causes me dis-ease. I cannot control the world. I can’t keep bad things from happening. I can’t hover over my children and grandchildren. But I can send out as much love and light into the world as I can. And I can encourage others to do the same. I can dish out heaping helpings of encouragement and positivity. With enough prayer and love and light, maybe we will see the change we so desperately hope for…we so desperately need. Walking strong in my faith, knowing who is really in control, soothes me. ?

Organizationally Challenged

Tue, 21 Aug 2018 01:30:23 -0600

“Ironic…Oprah’s De-Clutter issue on top of one of my piles. Oy!”

“But as for you, be strong and do not give up, for your work will be rewarded.” 2 Chronicles 15:7 NIV

I am a well rounded individual. I know how to do a lot of different things. I know my way around a tool box, I can do just about any crafty thing, I can tow a camper across the country and back...several times. But, I’ve got to tell you...organization is NOT in my skill set. This is an old photo, taken in the “junk room” at the house I shared with Mr. Virgo when we lived in Denver. A lot of what you see here are art supplies and various papers...records, receipts, ephemera. Some of it was my mother’s and grandmother’s. But the biggest majority was my crap that I hauled around from house to house, paying perfectly good money to have it moved rather than bite the bullet and downsize.

In those days, downsizing was inconceivable to me. This was my STUFF! And, just like my first two husbands, Mr. Virgo hated it. Why do you think I call him Mr. Virgo? He and my second husband both were Virgos. Highly organized. Highly intolerant of piles. I, however, was all about the sparklies. I have the attention span of a toddler.

Downsizing was a really great step for me. I got rid of 95% of my personal belongings, but I still own too much stuff. At least that part is manageable now. My biggest challenge now is keeping track of papers I need. I have probably six tote bags in the bottom of the guest room closet filled with papers. That is a real problem when you need to find something specific. I bought a plastic tub and a box of hanging file folders and spent yesterday morning filing papers. I still have a long way to go. I’ll probably need a second box but progress is progress.

After it cooled down some, I mowed the four acres at the Ponderosa while Mr. FixIt worked on his camper that he’s selling. One of the jacks was bent and it took him over two hours to get the old one off and put the new one on. The new one was “universal”, meaning it should fit any camper. Nope. Poor guy had to lay under the camper and drill new holes to fit the mounting brackets. We finished working at the same time…just before dark. It made for a long, but satisfying day. It feels good when you accomplish things. ?

Firsts Don’t Always Come Once

Thu, 16 Aug 2018 01:30:12 -0600

“Firsts don’t only come once.”

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3 NIV

The other day, I was reading a tweet from a gal that I follow. She was commenting about a deep feeling of grief she felt she had long ago left behind her. She is a widow and her youngest was off to college. Another “first”. They don’t always come in the first year. There are graduations, and weddings, and grandchildren, and vacations, and retirement...all things you thought you were going to get to do with your person.

When you are newly bereaved, the initial shock numbs you. You walk in a haze as you go through the motions of planning a funeral, greeting the attendees, and writing all those Thank You notes. Somewhere before too long, you start peeling back all these layers and grief continually bubbles up as you realize all the things you have lost along with your loved one. You have a sense of this loss up front. But you don’t realize how it will affect you when you get to those milestones. They can knock you down just as hard as some of the earlier waves of grief.

I watch Mr. Virgo’s grandchildren growing up on Facebook. I don’t have a relationship with his daughter, but she is kind enough to keep me connected so I can see the children. The little one is the spitting image of her grandpa. It twists my heart when I see her. When I realize he didn’t get to know them and they won’t get to know him, it makes me sad. Firsts…first grade…first dance recital…all the big “little” things grandparents are supposed to share with their grand babies. Daughter #2 will be planning a wedding soon. She and Mr. Virgo were very close. That will stir the waves.

There will always be these moments. This is the price you pay for love. If there is an upside, it is that the waves aren’t as big and they don’t last as long now. I have learned how to tap-dance around that hole in my heart without falling in…most of the time. My new relationship with Mr. FixIt is wonderful, but he doesn’t replace Mr. Virgo. You can’t replace someone you truly loved. Grief remains as a scar on your heart…and your life grows around it. ❤️

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. ❤️

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. ❤️

Not the Sharpest Tool

Sat, 04 Aug 2018 01:30:50 -0600

“Buffalo taken with a LONG lens.”

“Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but whoever hates correction is stupid.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭12:1‬ ‭NIV‬‬

There are certain matters of etiquette one must observe when visiting State and National Parks. There is camping etiquette and fishing etiquette. There are matters of law. Then there’s just plain common sense.

A video was posted this week to Facebook.

http://www.ktvq.com/story/38792071/video-extra-man-taunts-buffalo-in-yellowstone-park

It was taken by a Yellowstone National Park visitor and it clearly shows a man taunting a buffalo by yelling at it and waving his arms. I am not sure if he was trying to shoo the behemoth out of the way because he was in a hurry, or if he was just curious what the beast would do. Either way, he got much more than the sought after 15 minutes of fame.

Turns out, this guy has a string of offenses over the course of his “vacation” and he ended up getting his just desserts.

https://www.nps.gov/yell/learn/news/18034.htm

Surely, one would think it only common sense not to go up to a wild animal the size of a semi and taunt it. But, alas…this kind of behavior is not all that uncommon. People have been gored, mauled, trampled, seriously injured and even killed by wildlife who were not respected. These are not Disney animatronics here. These are highly unpredictable wild animals who could easily put you down…permanently.

Mr. Virgo once saw an elk chasing a woman down a street in Estes Park trying to get her subway sandwich. He also saw many bears in Aspen with people getting entirely too close to pictures. There was an elderly woman mauled in Glenwood Springs, CO by a bull elk right on her front porch. She was feeding him apples. Mr. Virgo and I were in Yellowstone once and saw some grizzlies at what I thought was a fairly safe distance. I stood up on the seat of the SUV and stuck my head out the sunroof to capture a great photo. Al of a sudden there was this loud pounding behind me on the roof of the car. I screamed and turned around in time to see a red-faced, angry Park Ranger yelling at me to get back down in the car. I honestly thought I was safe, so sometimes these things are perpetrated by well-meaning tourists who probably SHOULD know better, but don’t.

So, the moral of the story is this…use common sense when visiting parks and forests where there is the likelihood of coming into contact with wildlife. Read the rules and follow them…to the T. Ask a ranger if you have questions. If you have internet, Google what you should do. And…like the woman who posted the video said… #DontDrinkAndBuffalo. You might not get a second chance. ❤️

An Amazing Heart

Wed, 01 Aug 2018 01:30:33 -0600

“A bicycle stands in the road in Tajikistan where two American cyclists were killed over the weekend.”

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭147:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Now that the news has been widely disseminated, I can share more about my friend’s son who was tragically killed over the weekend. Perhaps you have seen the story on the news. Jay Austin and his partner, Lauren Geoghegan, were the two American cyclists killed in Tajikistan over the weekend. They had just completed their first year riding their bikes and living a life most can’t even imagine.

“Jay Austin in January, cycling in Spain during a year-long bike adventure.” Family photo from internet

Jay worked for HUD in Washington, DC. He had revolutionary vision regarding urban housing and development. He was a huge proponent of the tiny house movement and was featured in a short documentary film on the subject. You can view it here:

m.youtube.com/watch

When he decided to quit his job and go on a cycling adventure around the world, he talked Lauren into joining him. After touring around Iceland on two wheels, they headed for more adventurous places. You can read their blog here:

www.simplycycling.org

They had recently entered Tajikistan and found it to be both stunningly beautiful and incredibly challenging to travel by bicycle. The thin air in the higher elevations actually made Lauren sick so she went ahead in a van while Jay rode the highest pass yet…on his own. He described the journey as arduous and could only ride five feet at a time, then desperately suck in air while he pushed his bike forward.

On the other side, Jay and Lauren were reunited. They joined some other Western cyclists and were riding in a group of seven when a car suddenly, purposefully ran into the pack of cyclists. Amateur video footage actually caught the car turning around and deliberately hitting them again, at which point, the passengers jumped from the car and stabbed the cyclists. Three riders, including Jay and Lauren, were killed at the scene and another died at the hospital. Two were injured…one admitted and the other treated and released to a safe house. The seventh was a cyclist who had lagged behind the group and only received minor injuries.

“Jay Austin and Lauren Geoghegan of simply cycling.org.”

Jay had recently written on his blog that, while bad things can happen, the world is generally a safe place and people were kind-hearted everywhere they went. According to the news, ISIS has claimed responsibility for this heinous act, but Tajik authorities think it is likely the work of the Islamic State, a related group of Tajik citizens who are ISIS sympathizers. At any rate, the news also reports that four of the five suspects have been “liquidated” and the fifth is at large.

I met Jay’s mom, Jea, while camping with the Girl Campers a few years ago at Blackwater Falls. She is quiet, a bit introverted, and kind with a heart the size of Texas. She raised her three children as a single mom and they all have beautiful hearts. She is one of those people you meet and you just “know”. This has obviously been a devastating blow for her and her family.

Lester Holt was supposed to highlight Jay’s life on his news program last night, but I think the story got bumped because of the plane crash in Mexico. You might want to try to catch it tonight to see if the segment airs.

As Jay and Lauren wrote on their blog…”Life is short and the world is a big place.” They wanted to see it on wheels while they still had their youth and their health. May God give them rest and peace in Paradise. And may He hold Jea and her children in His loving arms as they navigate the coming days…weeks…months……years. ❤

Shopped Till I Dropped

Fri, 20 Jul 2018 01:30:10 -0600

“I shopped till I dropped!”

“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

Yesterday was my special day with Big. She is fourteen so our yearly one-on-one is normally focused on fashion. Our trip to the mall began at the opening bell and ended at 3:00. That’s five hours of walking from one end to the other and back...several times. My suddenly sixty-five year old knee said, “What are you doing to me??? Get thee to a restaurant!”

Big and I took our time over huge yummy salads at California Pizza Kitchen. We discussed her upcoming entry into high school. We talked about making our visits really count since I only get one a year. We promised to text, call, and FaceTime more often to stay connected.

This little gal is quite the shopper. She searches for the best deals and gets a ton of stuff for her money. She is stylish, yet conservative. Being a swimmer means you have broad shoulders so shirts and jackets don’t always fit well. She was thrilled with her purchases and I was thrilled to have that alone time with her. She is such a good person.

I came home and stretched out and when I woke from my power nap, my knee was really hurting. Ice and naproxen and rest. What on earth has happened to my body? I turned sixty-five. It’s like anything else…it breaks down the week after the warranty expires. Oy! ❤️

50,000 Mile Tune-Up...or...How EMDR Saves My Brain

Tue, 17 Jul 2018 01:30:47 -0600

“EMDR reprograms your brain.”

“Behold, I will bring it health and cure, and I will cure them, and will reveal unto them the abundance of peace and truth.” ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭33:6‬ ‭KJV‬‬

A little over five years ago, I sat on a stool in the corner of an emergency room and watched them do CPR on my husband. It went on FOR-EV-ER. Stop. Start. Shock. X-Ray. Start. Stop. Check. Shock. Over and over and over. I sat with my hand clasped over my mouth to keep from screaming. I wrapped my feet intricately around and through the legs of the stool to keep from jumping up and running away. My shoulders slumped...my free hand dug into my thigh so I could feel something other than horror. And all of that...all of the valiant efforts, all of the shouts for more drugs, all of the hustle and bustle and orchestrated chaos could not save him. He died in spite of the best efforts of the Western Slope’s best and brightest. He died. And I could do nothing to stop it.

I ran away in my camper for three months. I busied myself. I “dated” a guy which turned out to be more about putting a tourniquet around my bleeding heart than it did about “love”. It had nothing to do with love. It had everything to do with escape. Then, one sunny afternoon at a fair in the park, a gentleman standing nearby choked. Like, Heimlich Maneuver choked. And I was frozen. Instead of jumping in as I had been trained to do…as I was certified to do…a movie started playing in my head as I stood in the park. Suddenly, I was back in the ER, sitting on the stool, watching them do CPR on my husband. It went on FOR-EV-ER. I mean, I KNEW I was in the park. So why was I “seeing” this rerun?

The rerun scared the crap out of me. And, I immediately associated it with a medical emergency…both my husband’s heart attack and the gentleman choking on chicken. I began to dread what might happen if there was a real emergency and I couldn’t step up to the plate. I avoided being in situations where someone could get hurt or sick or…God forbid…NEED me. I suffered wave after wave…not only of grief, but also anxiety. To the point of vomiting uncontrollably for hours. Simply put, I was a mess.

I went to see my doctor and asked her if she could recommend a grief counselor. And when I first talked with her, she said, “Ginny, I think you have PTSD.” She told me she wanted to do something called EMDR on me. Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. It is THE most accepted PTSD treatment. Normally, when we experience a disturbing event, our brains process it and file it away neatly in it’s appropriate folder in our memory bank and life goes on. But, when the event is associated with trauma…like watching prolonged CPR…something happens in the filing process and the memory gets stuck. It is like a video playing on a continuous loop…over and over and over. The thought becomes intrusive…meaning, unbidden. Uncontrollable. It creates fear. And it is terribly distressing.

After the first EMDR treatment, the improvement was extraordinary. It’s non-invasive and is accomplished so simply. You sit in a comfortable chair, You conjure up the image that is giving you the most trouble…no matter how painful it is. You hang onto that thought while watching the practitioner move her finger back and forth, back and forth, back and forth across your field of vision. You follow her finger with your eyes. The rapid eye movement actually reprograms your brain. It can make the memory fade. It can change it into something else. It can process it and let it go into the file with all the other memories. And it can release you from the pain of seeing it over and over and over.

I really did well. My anxiety level was lower. I had few, if any, real panic attacks. I still dealt with grief waves, but not the horrifying repetitious movie starring CPR. Then, about a year and a half ago, I started having episodes of anxiety again. About once a week or so, I would spend the night sick as a dog. I couldn’t keep anything down. I began to dread going places. I began to fear medical situations again. What began slowly, started cranking up more and more and with every insult to my central nervous system, it got worse. Surgery cranked it up. The episode with my aunt with dementia cranked it up. Flying cranked it up. Being away from Mr. FixIt cranked it up. I texted my grief counselor, Karen, and told her I thought I needed an EMDR tuneup so we scheduled it to coincide with my trip this week to visit my brother.

As I caught up with her yesterday, I told her about Mr. FixIt and how happy we are. We talked about all the really good, positive changes that have come into my life. Then she asked what happened a year and a half ago that started the cycle again. I told her about the car accident. She asked what it was about that that triggered me and I surprised myself by bursting into tears. I sobbed and covered my face.

“I thought I killed her!” I cried.

“Who?”

“The young girl in the backseat! Her head was lolled over, her face was bloodied. Her mama cradled her head in her hands and begged her to wake up. The man who was driving ran at me screaming, “You killed her! She was supposed to turn 17 this week!!!””

I sobbed and Karen put her hand on my knee.

“Oh, Ginny…that had to be terrifying.” She comforted me with her soft, caring voice. “I think that’s it. I think that is what has prodded your PTSD awake.”

Just like grief, you don’t get “cured” of PTSD. It can raise it’s ugly head just like unexpected waves of grief can overtake you at any given moment.

We did a session of EMDR. We repeated it eight times or so. With each subsequent series of back and forth movements, it felt as though someone were turning down the volume knob like a radio in my brain. The first series resulted in me feeling immediately calmer. The second made me feel like I had taken a step back and I wasn’t sitting in the driver’s seat of the truck. I was in the back seat. The third set had me standing behind the truck. The fourth set had me even further behind the truck…like zooming out on a long camera lens. I was surprised by the fifth set. I had a flash of the young girl going to prom. The implication being…she was fine and healthy. Each subsequent set of movement took me further and further into this relaxed, soft, safe place. It is remarkable something so simple can have such a huge impact.

I had not cried about the accident up to that point. I had not processed, or even acknowledged, the trauma of thinking I had killed someone. Of being verbally and physically challenged by the other driver. And we all know that unprocessed trauma, like unprocessed grief…festers. It does not serve us to grit our teeth and white-knuckle our way through these episodes. From now on I will be proactive and get the help I need instead of trying to handle it on my own. I can’t tell you how much better I feel. When I got home from the mountains yesterday, my son-in-law’s dad made the observation that even my voice was different…relaxed, easy, slower. There is no shame in admitting you need help to work through something. We women think we are supposed to have it all together. I told a friend the other day that I just want to be normal. She smiled and said, “Sweetie, you ARE normal. Everybody has something they have to deal with. What you want is perfection!’ Ahhhh…she knows me well.

None of us are perfect. Ask for help if you need it. Don’t try to just get by with a stiff upper lip. Just “getting though it” is no way to live. ❤

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.

❤

Rocky Mountain High (Altitude)

Sun, 08 Jul 2018 01:30:15 -0600

“The Reel Sisters” by Michelle Cummings

“When he came down from the mountain, great crowds followed him. And behold, a leper came to him and knelt before him, saying, "Lord, if you will, you can make me clean." And Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, "I will; be clean." And immediately his leprosy was cleansed. And Jesus said to him, "See that you say nothing to anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer the gift that Moses commanded, for a proof to them."” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭8:1-4‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I’m finally acclimating to the altitude. It always takes me three days to start feeling like myself when I first get here. I go through everything from feeling lethargic to feel nauseated to sever headache. I take a supplement when I get there called “Altitude Adjustment”. I get it at a ski shop. I think it really helps, but who knows? Maybe it’s three days whether I take it or not. At any rate, I am always glad to get those three days behind me.

In the past, I’ve made the mistake of heading to the mountains as soon as I get here. I lived here for forty years and never considered the altitude to be a problem until I moved to West Virginia. But anymore, I can’t just jump in and start playing at 5,280 feet. It doesn’t hurt you to take your time anyway. I’ve really enjoyed leisurely morning coffee with my son-in-law’s parents, drawing and playing with Little, visiting with the kids, having lunch with my nephew, reading my friend Michelle’s new book and taking naps.

I went to Red Rocks Church last night. It is very similar to our home church in Parkersburg. There was a pastor visiting from Dallas who spoke on the Sermon on the Mount and the healing of the leper. The underlying premise was encouraging us to run TOWARDS the messes in our lives. We usually try to avoid the ugly, uncomfortable, messy parts of life or people. Running towards the mess gives us the opportunity to extend true love to marginalized people…people who may, like the leper, go most of their lives not feeling the love of another human being. As always, I came out feeling uplifted and renewed.

I’m heading to the mountains for a few days. There are people to see and places to go. I’ll bring you along for the ride! ❤️

Hotter Than a Firecracker

Fri, 06 Jul 2018 01:30:00 -0600

“El Jebel, Colorado burns in the night.”

“Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the Lord had descended on it in fire. The smoke of it went up like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled greatly.” ‭‭Exodus‬ ‭19:18‬ ‭ESV‬

Colorado is on fire...and not in a good way. There are fires everywhere here. This picture shows the little town of El Jebel, not too far from where I worked. The building in front is the Whole Foods Grocery. It makes me so sad to see this. This particular fire started when two guys were shooting tracers at the firing range and caught the brittle, dry brush on fire. Colorado had a drastically low snowfall this year and record low rainfall this spring. It is literally a tinder box right now and anything can cause a fire that will quickly rage out of control.

I’ve lived through two terrible fires here. The first was the Storm King Fire. It started as a lonesome little pine tree that was struck by lightning one afternoon and smoldered for a couple of days before a dry, hot wind fanned it into flames. The resulting conflagration took the lives of 14 smokejumpers from Oregon. The other was the Coal Seam Fire that looked much like this picture. I was driving from Glenwood Springs to New Castle the day it blew up and jumped the interstate AND the Colorado River in an arc right over my car. I was the last car that came through before they closed the road. I remember standing in the street in front of my house, looking at the hillside several miles away in the middle of the night. It looked like a thousand campfires.

If you live in the mountains here, you don’t wonder IF you’re going to have a fire. You wonder WHEN you are going to have a fire. My friends have been posting on Facebook about the stress of keeping a bug out bag by the door for a quick escape. I remember wondering…”What would I grab? What is the most important?” I have always kept my most important papers in a file box with a handle that I could keep near the door and grab on my way out.

Yes, this fire was man made. As is the one in the southern part of the state that is nearing 100,000 acres. But, as a friend of mine pointed out, we have been starting fires for over 10,000 years. There is a natural cycle of forest management that includes fire. As a matter of fact, there are certain evergreen trees that will not release the seeds from their pine cones unless they are exposed to the high temperatures that a fire would produce, which goes to show me fire is part of the grander scheme of things. It is human intrusion that has placed us in the way of the inevitable.

I’m hanging out here in Denver for a couple more days to acclimate to the altitude before I head up into the mountains to see my brother. Please pray for rain…and for the firefighters and homeowners…we are so desperately dry here. ❤

Good Self-Care

Tue, 03 Jul 2018 01:30:47 -0600

“Taking good care of yourself is vitally important when you are experiencing the added stress of grief.”

“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 ‭ESV‬

Women are the first to put our needs on the back burner in deference to those we care for. Add “widow” to that and there’s a big “Why bother?” component. Especially during the first year or two. And, honestly, that’s when you need it the most. Grief is hard enough to navigate without letting our “Why bother?” mind take over.

I remember the first time I got a pedicure after Mr. Virgo died. I literally cried at the touch of human hands on my feet. Something in my soul woke up a tiny, tiny bit. After that, I made it a habit to get a pedi every month and a full body massage at least every two months just to feel a human connection. It doesn’t have to cost a lot to get pampered a little. When money was tight, the simplest thing like getting my hair washed was heavenly. And it only cost $5 at the salon in Walmart.

Once I started going, each subsequent visit woke me more and more and really helped me balance my loss with an awareness of my surroundings and my presence THERE, not THEN. I realized I’d been holding that moment of his death in the forefront of my mind which was like pushing instant replay on the DVR. It didn’t serve me well.

Probably the biggest obstacle I faced practicing good self-care was going out to a restaurant for dinner alone. I put on my bravest face and informed the hostess I would be dining alone so we could avoid that piteous “Just one?” As I sat in the booth, I ached for my husband’s presence. It was everything I could do to sit there and not run out in tears. But I was determined to start normalizing my present circumstances. I could not concentrate on the menu and just asked the waitress for a good salad with protein on top…salmon, chicken, it didn’t matter. As she left, I made myself look at the others in the restaurant. The couples laughing and conversing were totally oblivious to what the future would surely hold for one of them. I had my iPad with me as I had planned to write a post while I was there. Instead, I pulled up my favorite photo of Mr. Virgo and propped the iPad up against the bread basket. I proceeded to carry on an inner dialog with my sweetheart as I had my first dinner alone in a restaurant…”with him”.

Self-care is not selfish. It is not self-indulgent. It is important for your mental and physical well-being. Don’t ignore that. ❤

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!!! ❤

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

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. ❤

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. ❤

The Importance of Getting a Mammogram

Sat, 09 Jun 2018 01:30:36 -0600

“It’s important to keep up with your routine health screenings.”

When I was married to the doctor, my healthcare was absolutely top shelf. Specialists who depend on referrals for their patient load may go above and beyond for a physician’s family. A referral pattern is a terrible thing to waste. I never had to wait for appointments. My doctors always answered my calls. Testing, including my mammogram, was done quickly. And, they accepted whatever insurance paid and never charged me a dime. Professional courtesy, it’s called. I have to admit, I was pretty spoiled. My doctors in Colorado were the same ones who took care of me when I was married to the doctor so my level of care pretty much continued even after the divorce. That changed when I moved to West Virginia.

My insurance changed when I moved here and I could not find anyone who took my insurance AND took new patients. I could find one or the other…not both. So I didn’t have a primary physician until Mr. FixIt and I started dating. His doctor was kind enough to take me on. I really like him. He’s thorough and gives the same quality of care I came to expect in Colorado. I have not always heard good things about the level of care here. I didn’t have a good experience with my mom’s healthcare and that was my frame of reference. I have no complaints here.

The problem with not having a primary care doctor is not keeping up with routine health screenings. The current issue is a mammogram. I had a routine mammogram in September. I received a call a few days later saying they needed compression films and an ultrasound. They found something “suspicious.” I do not have a family history of breast cancer and this mass had every hallmark of being a fibroadenoma which is the most common benign breast tumor. My doctor and I discussed it and decided to repeat the tests in six months.

I had the repeat tests done the first part of May. This time the suspicious area was bigger. I was scheduled for an Ultrasound Guided Core Needle Biopsy, which I had done on Tuesday. If you have never had one and you need one, they really aren’t bad. The doctor numbs the area then makes a tiny nick in the skin. Then, guided by the ultrasound, a needle is placed in different areas of the lesion and small bits of tissue are removed and sent to the lab. A little bandaid over the boo-boo and off you go. Tylenol every four hours for a day and you’re left with something that feels akin to the breast tenderness you feel at the beginning of your period. Since it’s been 25 years since I’ve had one of those, I had kind of forgotten what that felt like. But, really…it wasn’t bad at all.

I went back to the surgeon yesterday for follow up. Because of the place where this mass is, getting a really good sample was difficult. The radiologist who did the biopsy told me he wasn’t sure he got a good specimen. The surgeon came in and said the good news was, there was no cancer found. But the bad news was, he wasn’t sure the specimen was the tissue he wanted to see because it didn’t quite correlate. He suggested removing the mass surgically and we scheduled that to be done on 6/21.

I know this is probably TMI, but I can’t stress enough how important it is to stay on top of your self care. Here I am, turning 65 next week, and having this done. It’s easy to blow it off, procrastinate, ignore. It’s just as easy to wait too long and miss something. My surgeon is still quite sure this is benign, but it’s something that cannot be ignored and we need to get it taken care of. Then they can do a proper test on the tissue and I can stop worrying about it. Get your mammogram, girls. It’s important. ❤

“Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” ‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭6:19-20‬ ‭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

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

On the Other Side of Midlife

Sun, 27 May 2018 01:30:41 -0600

“Spending the weekend at home by the pool. Then visited more family at a local cemetery.”

A friend sent me a link yesterday to an article written by Brené Brown. She discusses the truth of what is commonly referred to as a midlife crisis. Her preferred terminology is “midlife unraveling”…a term I can totally relate to. Her premise is, while there are many tactics one can take when facing the existential questions like “Is this all there is?”, her approach was a head-on collision with the universe. And, as is always the case, the universe won and brought her to her knees.

I distinctly remember the moment I first had an inkling something was amiss. I went through a divorce young and I did really well raising my older daughter. I put my second husband through medical school, residency, and setting up a practice. I worked hard, stayed engaged, and did my Earth Mother thing. I created unique job positions for myself, I wrote a children’s book, I co-authored a book for the National Institutes of Health, I invented a piece of x-ray equipment to x-ray disabled patients while seated in a wheelchair, I illustrated an exercise book. I kept my daughter busy with scouts and bikes and the like so her step-father could have a quiet house to study in. I was busy. Then, several things happened that brought my world to a dizzying tailspin.

When my husband started his practice, I stopped working outside of the home. Hindsight being 20/20, that probably wasn’t the best choice for me. While I continued to stay busy being a full time mom, my daughter was in junior high and she really didn’t need me during the days. I filled my time volunteering for the hospital auxiliary. I took hospice training. I lunged horses and mucked stalls in exchange for riding lessons for my daughter and me. I was a DJ for the local public radio station. I baked competitively and grew a huge garden. I entered the county fairs. And I was becoming lost..first to myself, then to my family.

I clearly hung my identity on a hook by the front door and became Mrs. Dr. So-and-So. I felt insecure. My husband was surrounded by intelligent women all day, every day. I was easily threatened by the medical staff he worked with so closely. In an attempt to refocus my life, and fulfill our desire to expand our family before it got too late, we decided to have another child, which was a distinct blessing, don’t get me wrong. The problem was, with every passing day, I was losing more of myself. And now, the physical toll of having a baby later in life threw me into a vicious cycle of yo-yo dieting and exhaustion.

I was distinctly unhealthy…mentally and physically. And finally, like Brené, I dared the universe to make me face the changes that were coming and she was far more up for the challenge than I was. I unraveled…hard and fast. It took a lot of hard work and therapy for me to put myself back together again. But eventually I found myself. I began to love who I was. Brené says, loving yourself is the most challenging thing you will ever have to do. And once you start that task, you continue to work it till the day you die. I beg to differ with her. Losing Mr. Virgo was decidedly the most challenging thing I have ever faced in my life.

As my grief has eased, I find myself sometimes disengaging from the conversation. “Grief talk” isn’t always at the forefront of my mind. Megan Devine from refugeingrief.com has a “Do This, Don’t Do That” chart that helps people support others who are grieving. I was appalled when I found I do far too many of the Don’t Do Thats…even here on my blog. I know for a fact I have hurt people’s feelings when I haven’t stayed present and remembered there are grievers out there I am writing for. If I ever have hurt you, I am profoundly sorry.

My mission here has evolved. It started out as a way to navigate my grief, and help others know they aren’t alone. It morphed into travel, faith, crafts, life lessons, and new love. Sometimes it reads like a sermon. Sometimes a novel. Sometimes it’s not much different than reading any other typical Facebook post from one of your friends, and that might get boring. But sometimes, hopefully often, I bring a message you need to hear. Something that helps you and makes you think. Something that cheers you and gives you hope. Something that helps you see my vulnerability and how we really aren’t very different. Something that stirs your heart. Something that brings you closer to God’s Word.

I am truly grateful to be on the far side of that existential midlife unraveling. I’m happy to have survived fairly intact. I am also grateful that, after five years on this grief journey, my heart has healed a great deal. I am forever changed by both of these monumental life events. I love myself a lot more…partially due to aging, partially due to the increased compassion grief brings. We are all works in progress, clear to our dying day. I’m glad I don’t try to push “feeling things” onto the back burner anymore. I face things head on, because God has my back. He is with me every step of the way. I still pray every time I write and ask Him to bring the right words and the people who need to hear them. ❤

“Therefore, rid yourselves of all malice and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind. Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good. As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” ‭‭1 Peter‬ ‭2:1-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Home Again

Thu, 24 May 2018 01:30:52 -0600

“Beaver Creek State Park, East Liverpool, Ohio”

I’ve always promised my family and friends that I wouldn’t reveal where I am while I am actually there, especially if I am traveling alone. Even though Mr. FixIt joined me for part of this trip, I still adhere to that basic rule of safety. Beaver Creek State Park is one of my all time favorite camping destinations. Part of that is the surroundings. Part is the relatively close proximity to my home. I love the drive up Ohio Route 7 as it meanders along the beautiful Ohio River. And…if you’re on the Ohio side, you are looking at the rolling hills and dense woodlands of West Virginia beyond the smooth water.

The best part of a Girl Camping trip is, of course, the friends you know and meet when you get there. These are friends for life and there’s a lot of love and laughter and encouragement that grows from those interactions. As I drove home yesterday, my heart was full.

Mavis, my GPS, tells me it takes two hours and fifty-seven minutes to drive to Beaver Creek State Park. I left there at 11:00 and got home at 5:00. Granted, there was one rest area stop. But there were several places where the road was down to one lane due to land slides and we had to take turns. Then there was my LEAST favorite part of camping…dumping the black and grey water tanks. There is a really good dump station at the West Virginia Welcome Center in Williamstown that I always stop at. It takes me a good forty-five minutes to clean my tanks, but it’s necessary to do a good job.

I had a few things going on with the camper this trip. One is, a leak has developed. Mr. FixIt got the ladder out for me and I think I found where the problem is. A seal on the top front edge of the camper is aging and cracked. The seals are only good for a few years and they need to be replaced so I guess it’s that time. When I was pumping up my tires before I left yesterday morning, I noticed the outside edge of one of them is shredding slightly. I need to check into that. Also, when I got home, I placed my hand on each hub and one was too hot to comfortably rest my hand on it. I need to tear into that and probably repack the bearings. There is a kind of hub you can get that has a valve on it and you can top off the grease before you travel just to make sure it is well lubricated. The downside of trailer ownership…constant maintenance.

So, I’m home. The baby birds in the cypress tree out front are feathering out and they had their little beaks aimed high waiting for mama. The rabbits have eaten all but four bean plants in the garden, but the tomatoes are looking great. My pink dogwood is thriving. The irises and peonies are in full bloom. There is standing water around the yard from all the heavy rains in the last week. And, as I write this, I can hear the whip-poor-will in the hedgerow along the creek on the far side of the field. I’m sore all over from lugging and toting and hooking up and driving the camper so I’m calling it a night. When you read this, we’ll be mowing out at the farm and doing laundry. What a wonderful trip it has been. ❤️

“May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us— yes, establish the work of our hands.” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭90:17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

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

Keep Walking

Fri, 11 May 2018 01:30:52 -0600

“Keep walking, dear one.”

I have several people in my life who are walking a challenging path right now. From my cousin with mesothelioma to a friend’s first grandchild being born with physical challenges. From my friend who is selling the home she and her late husband raised their family in to the beautiful women in my small group from church who are facing some pretty big things right now. There are new widows and new moms and new grandmas out there who need extra love and support today. To all of you who are facing challenges…let me say this.

You are beautiful.

You are stronger than you think.

You are loved.

You are being prayed for.

No matter how difficult and challenging life becomes…

Stand up.

Keep walking.

Keep moving forward.

You are worthy.

You are enough.

You are a Child of God.

It’s ok to cry.

It’s ok to not be ok.

Just hang in there…things will get better. Maybe not right away…but they will get better.

I love you.

❤️

“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 ‭ESV‬‬

#encouragement, #BuildingUp, #love

Overwhelming Tasks

Mon, 07 May 2018 01:30:16 -0600

“My messy garage as I was downsizing.”

My friend Deneene has been widowed three years now. Shortly after her husband died, she became friends with a fellow who lived near her kids. They were “just friends” and she was absolutely certain she would never fall in love with anyone. But, as soon as I saw her friend’s picture, I knew in my heart this is who she was destined to be with, but I didn’t say anything. They supported each other as they were both going through a rough patch in their lives. A couple of years after that, they ran into each other again. This time, something clicked and long story short…they fell in love. Like many of us, love after loss is magical and she has decided to sell her home here in West Virginia and move to the south to be with her love.

Dee is facing something I’ve already been through…clearing out YEARS of “stuff”, selling a house, and moving hundreds of miles away. I am hoping her experience will be easier than mine. I did it at one year after losing Mr. Virgo. I was still reeling from my loss and heading into my second year which was much rougher for me than my first. I remember after making the decision, just the sheer enormity of the task was totally overwhelming. I cannot tell you how many times I sat on the floor and cried, not knowing where to start or what to do next. My daughter came to help one day. A couple of friends helped out when they could. But the bulk of the work, and all of the decision making, was mine.

My friend is very wise. She’s been reading this and other grief blogs and listens to all of your suggestions. The first thing she did was create an event on Facebook for an Estate Sale in a month. Then, she asked for any and all volunteers, specifying what jobs need to be done and when. Wisely, she reminded her friends of the time they told her three years ago… “just let me know what you need and I’ll be there.” So, she’s calling in the favors. I applaud her for that. She already has people lined up to help her, myself included.

I remember how daunting that task was. I remember what a struggle it was to make decisions as to what to keep, what to give to the family, what I could sell, what I should throw away. It was brutal. But the rewards were many. I felt lighter with each load that went away. There were things I really loved, but no one else I knew would have, so I took pictures of them before I sent them on their way. Now I have a photo album on my phone and I can visit them any time I want. There are things I regret getting rid of, sure. But my life was so much easier without the burden of all that stuff around me.

I’m hoping Dee can keep her eye on the prize…the freedom that will come when she has fulfilled her goal of downsizing and selling the house. I am also hoping that the extra two years of grieving she has gone through saves her the gut-wrenching tears. I have a feeling she may find it a bit more emotionally charged than she thinks it will. She is a very strong woman. She is young, healthy, and happy. She has a love waiting for her in the south. She’s going to do great, I’m sure. She’s still in my prayers, though. It isn’t easy under any circumstances to face such an enormous task alone. ❤

“do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” ‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:6-7‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Sold to the Highest Bidder

Sun, 06 May 2018 01:30:42 -0600

“Mat boards form a bridge to carry pipeline equipment across creeks and up steep slopes.”

On September 13, 2000, David Case wrote an article in Mother Jones Magazine about West Virginia’s Mountain (Party) Mama…Denise Giardina. Ms. Giardina is an author and was sick of seeing the politicians of West Virginia selling off the soul of this beautiful land. She even tried to run for governor by forming her own political party…the Mountain Party. She was born in West Virginia, raised in a coal camp, and has written books on the failing coal industry.

David Case writes, “West Virginia often seems like America’s very own slice of Third World. A powerful clique of good-ole-boys rape the earth for natural resource wealth, while the masses contend with shabby schools and inadequate public services.” West Virginia has always been in the lowest numbers of any economic chart. Yet she is (or WAS) among the richest in natural resources. She was siphoned of these resources with very little in the way of financial or social remuneration in the past.

“Closeup of mat board bridge.”

First it was timber. Then coal, oil and gas. Coal has seen a decided downturn in production with the pledges to reduce carbon emissions in an effort to protect the environment. Gas saw a resurgence when drilling began in the Marcellus Shale of North Central West Virginia. Look, I’m not going to get into a whole political rant here…this isn’t the place. There are so many sides to every story. There are people in this state who would not eat or clothe their families if it weren’t for the Oil and Gas Industry. I get that. And, there are people starving who cannot provide for their families because of reduced coal production. I get that, too. People have to eat

News broke in November that China came in with a 20-year, $83.7 billion investment in West Virginia’s natural gas industry, yet very few details have emerged as to what, exactly, that will look like. What kinds of pipelines, cracker plants, processing plants, compressors? What about regulation? What about protecting the residents? The environment? Long term climate effects? Will this knock the struggling coal industry completely out of the game?

“Equipment operators work on steep slopes high above a roadway.”

Oh, the praises and political jockeying to take credit for this enormous financial coup has been a sight to see. The sight that disturbs me most is the destruction of thousands of acres of forest, some of which are a stone’s throw from my back porch. I hate to see the land of my people, the home of my heart, being raped, pillaged, and plundered to send the gas beneath our feet from West Virginia to Louisiana and then shipped to China. Yes…they’re paying for it. But, for how long? Twenty years? You know…$83.7 billion doesn’t go as far as it used to, especially when you take into account each section of pipe costs around $25,000 to place. There’s an enormously expensive infrastructure to build.

I hate what’s happening to the land. At the same time, my mechanically inclined mind is intrigued by the industrial process, I hate to admit. The other day, Mr. FixIt and I went for a drive and saw where the pipeline will be coming off the hill behind the farm, crossing the road, and heading up the far ridge. It is crazy to see the steep slopes these men and their ‘dozers are working on. There are places where bulldozers are chained together and a working ‘dozer gets lowered on a cable down the hill. Workers are literally on their backs with their feet sticking straight up as they try to clear away the trees, underbrush, boulders, and earth as they dangle from steel cables. It’s dangerous work…as dangerous as any coal mine.

“Closeup of gas pipeline workers high up a steep slope clearing land behind the farm.”

Anyone with any land at all has put in mini campgrounds in their fields and pastures and even lawns in order to cash in on the economic windfall created by a lack of housing for the oil and gas workers. Restaurants, hotels, food trucks, convenience stores have all sprung up to accommodate the extra mouths to feed. Again, I ask…what happens in 20 years when it all goes away and we are left with a scarred landscape that can be seen from outer space? I know…it’s an influx of money to a struggling, poor state. Maybe people can put a little money away for the future. Maybe they can send their kids to school for better educations. Maybe West Virginia will invest that money wisely and not just line the pockets of the powers that be so our children can look forward to a better life. Maybe. In the meantime, the trucks going up and down our road have literally torn it to bits, hundreds of years of forest growth is gone, and everything is a muddy mess…all in the name of the almighty dollar. ❤️

“You shall not pollute the land in which you live, for blood pollutes the land, and no atonement can be made for the land for the blood that is shed in it, except by the blood of the one who shed it. You shall not defile the land in which you live, in the midst of which I dwell, for I the Lord dwell in the midst of the people of Israel."” ‭‭Numbers‬ ‭35:33-34‬ ‭ESV‬‬

National Widows Day - May 3rd

Thu, 03 May 2018 01:30:03 -0600

“National Widows Day - May 3rd”

National Widows Day sprung from Widow Wednesday…a grassroots program designed to assist widows and widowers in the community with small tasks normally completed by the late spouse. Widow Wednesday was originally founded by Jimmy Chouteau, a Kansas City insurance agent. Part of his job was working with retirees, many of whom were left on their own and were struggling to do things around the house while also dealing with grief. Sometimes it was as easy as screwing in a lightbulb or helping write checks. And sometimes it was just spending some time in conversation. Jimmy and his family took time form is busy insurance agency to devote Wednesdays to assisting widows and widowers in need.

In the spirit of Widow Wednesday and National Widows Day, reach out to a widow or widower in your life today. Ask them if there is anything you can do today to help them out. And, if there isn’t, ask him/her out for coffee or dinner. Take them a potted plant. Or just sit on the porch and visit a bit. Then, take some time every Wednesday to check in and help out wherever you can. You never know how much you can help someone coping with grief just by showing up and listening and letting them know they are not forgotten. It’ll warm your heart. ❤

“In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ “” ‭‭Acts‬ ‭20:35‬ ‭ESV‬‬

#WidowWednesday, #NationaWidowsDay, #Love

No Apologies

Fri, 20 Apr 2018 01:30:14 -0600

“It’s ok to unplug.”

What happens when you have to “dig in and go dark?” When you have the diagnosis, you’ve gone through the years of treatments, nothing else is working, so your spouse makes the decision you have dreaded from the beginning…no more? That was the question posed to me. It’s different for everyone and I don’t know for sure…I haven’t suffered this particular hell. But, my answer was this. Do what you need to do and don’t apologize for it.

Facebook has become a simplified way to let more distant family and friends know what’s going on during illness and the dying process. It tends to keep people from having to write the same story over and over. I suggested being honest. Tell them where you are in the decision process, explain you’re entering new territory with many unknowns that you’ll be learning to deal with as you go, and now…while you love each and every one and you covet their prayers…you have to unplug. Designate someone to let the closest people know what’s going on if you can’t do it.

You don’t owe the world an explanation. I understand there will be those who feel left out or put out, but your time is best spent in communion with your loved one. You will have many demands on your time. Trying to update everyone on social media shouldn’t be one of them if it overwhelms you. From the other side of the coin, understand there’s a lot going on in a family whose loved one is dying and as much as you would like to know what’s going on, giving a family space and your prayers are the two best things you can do if you aren’t in the “inner circle.“

Many of you have shared your experiences of going through this kind of loss. What kind of advice would you give to someone heading into the last part of the process? What helped you the most? What did you really need from people? How did you handle communications?

Remember, when you’ve gone through loss and you’re functioning better and moving forward, don’t forget to turn back around and offer your hand to those coming up behind you on the same journey. Insight…it is one of the gems in the flame. ❤

“…a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:7‬ ‭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

Country Life is Not for Sissies!

Fri, 13 Apr 2018 01:30:40 -0600

“There was a little squirrel…”

Yesterday was the most beautiful so far this year. The temperature got up to 82…truly hot on the front porch at 5:00. I think this “cold” might be allergies. I was listening to the news and they said with the late spring rains and cool temperatures, the pollen counts have been held down. That is, until the last couple of days. It warmed up dramatically and the wind whipped the pollen count into a veritable poison soup for those of us allergic to everything outdoors. I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t already been taking antihistamines.

I was sitting in the front window sipping my morning coffee and trying to decide if I was going to live or not when something outside caught my eye. A dark shadow passed by the window. When I looked closer, it was a vulture…sitting on my lawn. I swear he was looking at me. Dang…I knew I didn’t feel great, but…vultures? I was worried. So I went back to bed.

With enough Benadryl on board to knock out a line backer, I snoozed half the afternoon away but woke up feeling much better. My cousin Charlotte stopped by to visit…my first “front porch company” of the season! She brought me a cute little camper birdhouse I can’t wait to hang up. New birds are showing up every day here at the farm. The brown headed cowbirds are back. And some really big blue jays. And, of course…vultures! Oy.

I was wandering around last evening, checking out the flowers when I noticed Boy Cat chasing something…bigger than the usual mouse he’s after…definitely not a bird. I got closer and it was a….baby squirrel. I screamed. The cat froze, and for a moment, the little squirrel managed to get a couple of feet away. The cat and I stared each other down. I was praying for a little time for the baby to get to a safe place. The cat read my mind as I lunged for the little fur-ball and he took off like a shot. I grabbed a flower pot as the cat and I closed in but try as I might, I couldn’t get the pot over the baby! He scampered under the trailer with a blur of orange and white fur hot on his tail. The little squirrel wedged itself between the tire and the chock and I tried to shoo away the cat. He stood his ground like a Sherman tank. I made one last attempt by grabbing the baby squirrel’s tail but that spooked him and he took off under the camper. I scrambled around but I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t help it. I really tried. But I had to get up and run in the house and close the door. I couldn’t watch. That was one determined cat. I can only pray the little squirrel got away.

These are the norms of nature. Farm cats kill little wild things. And sometimes bigger wild things kill farm cats. The only thing that I am grateful for is Boy Cat didn’t leave a dead baby squirrel on my doorstep as a gift for his Food God. That would have done me in. ❤

“The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel.” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭12:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

#Animals, #kindness, #farmlife

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

A Moment of Panic...

Tue, 10 Apr 2018 01:30:49 -0600

“A Moment of Panic…”

This is one of those moments when my mind ran about a hundred yards ahead of me and took me on a wild goose chase. A few days ago, when I was working hot and heavy on the taxes, I noticed some of my files on my new laptop had a red “x” on the upper left corner of the icon. I really didn’t take time to figure out what was going on because I had other fish to fry. When the taxes were finally completed Saturday, and I took a much needed day of rest on Sunday, I dove back in to the computer to find out what was going on.

After checking, it seemed all of the files had some connection to OneDrive…Microsoft’s answer to Apple’s iCloud. Upon further investigation, I discovered Windows 10 automatically sets up OneCloud (ok, there may have been something I checked off when I set up the computer but at this point, I’ve forgotten). All of your pictures, documents, backups…you know…IMPORTANT stuff heads to outer space to be stored in some server somewhere. It was SO enticing, this “free” service Microsoft provided you. (Ok, now I remember…I DID make a choice. sigh) Did it occur to me what would happen once my laptop started vomiting 13,000 photos into a bunch of zeros and ones and that free storage was eaten up? Oh, heck no!

Eat it up it did and somewhere around the time I was backing up Quicken and TurboTax, I got a little message. “Your OneCloud is full.” When I finally got back to it yesterday morning, I went on the Microsoft site and looked for help. Reading the directions meant nothing. I went on chat. I was “number 64…please don’t move away from this page or you’ll lose your place in line.” An hour later, “Czar Niña”…I kid you not, that was the name…came on and tried to help me. Turn this off. Disconnect that. Reboot.

“If I reboot, I’ll lose you!” I said.

“Don’t worry…I’ll be here.” the Czar typed back.

I rebooted.

Gone.

sigh

I tried again and got Emil.

Emil said, “Just delete all the files with a red x.”

Are you KIDDING me??? That represents about two years of work!

“That is not an option.” I typed back.

“Well, then,” he tapped away. “Save this link and call tomorrow and you can buy premium services and we can climb into your computer and fix that bad boy for only $149 a year!” Really, I’m paraphrasing here.

“Thanks, Emil! Catch ya later!” Click.

Along about this time, I wondered what would happen if I actually clicked on the files with the red x. Would my computer die? Would there be anything there? Would I do some harm to the delicate balance of the ozone layer? Would I kill a butterfly in the Sahara? What the heck…I’ve come this far.

Click.

Everything was there. It seems, if you want the red x to go away, you have to buy the upgraded storage, which…of course…I had already done by this time. I am “syncing” 13,000+ photos and documents to an unknown climate controlled electronic box somewhere in India that I forked out $72 and change for so that Microsoft would stop holding my data hostage when it was there all along.

heavy sigh

I don’t know…I think I’d pass on the OneCloud thingy if you have more than fifty or so pictures of your cats because you just may never see Fluffy again without paying the big bucks!

But, the real moral of the story is…I failed, yet again, to be present and not let panic rush over me. Remembering first that God is with me and He will help me, even when my Gemini grief-brain takes me off chasing rabbits. It would have saved me a lot of unnecessary angst yesterday.

“Lord, help me remember You are there.” Amen ❤️

“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

Hiraeth

Mon, 09 Apr 2018 01:30:04 -0600

“Hiraeth…a longing for a home you can’t return to.”

A Welsh word for the yearning…the grief for the places of your past. Yet, not necessarily a house. A place in your life that you can never return to. This is so much of what grief is…that longing to return to that homely feeling of the love you shared with another. I remember feeling this so very strongly after losing my grandma. And then my mom. It consumed me when I lost Mr. Virgo…that longing for home.

I felt it when I lost my dad, but in a different way. I yearned for the daddy I never had…not the father that was lost in his cups. I feel it from time to time for my mother’s house that I regretted selling almost before the ink was dry.

I feel it in a way, at this very moment, lying in my grandparent’s bedroom…knowing each day here is one closer to the last I will experience in this place. Anticipatory hiraeth. I wonder if that’s a “thing”?

I know this word. I feel this word in my bones. The dichotomy is not lost on me. Unspeakable joy, unspeakable tragedy, unspeakable joy. The ebb and flow of life swings with such violence at times. Right now, I’m enjoying an easy float down a peaceful stream, my fingers gently trailing in the calm blue water. But my bones remember. Bones never forget. ❤️

“By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭11:3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

#Hiraeth, #longing, #love, #home

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

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

Becoming a Pickle

Thu, 22 Mar 2018 01:30:40 -0600

“Spring Snow”

I worked all day again, copying old posts, pasting them into the website blog. I watched the snowfall outside my window on the first day of spring, filling me with a mix of warm memories and melancholy. I wrote an outline for a project I’m working on. I caught up with old friends. Mr. FixIt brought home my favorite salad from Chik-fil-A. We watched the recording of the new season of American Idol. Then I retreated to the back of the house to write my post. It’s our routine now. One we are both comfortable with.

I quickly scanned my Facebook feed, stopping to read one that spoke to my heart. One of the most humbling experiences I have in doing this grief work is mentoring other widows. A couple of years ago, I met Deneene. She was referred to me by a friend of mine because she was approaching the first “angelversary” of her husband’s death. She was struggling, as we all do with such monumental firsts. When someone tells me they were referred by someone I know, I take a peek at their profile to see if, by chance, they live near me. Sure enough, Deneene lived in my little town in West Virginia. I sent her a private message and invited her to coffee.

We met at Panera on a cold, late winter day and our one hour coffee meeting turned into a four hour gab fest and a life long friendship. I have watched Deneene grow and heal and change and stretch. I’ve watched her be surprised by a new, great love who came into her life. I’ve watched her basically move away to the south with her new love, building a new life. I am so proud of her…so happy for her. And, I miss my coffee buddy, my movie partner, my Girl Camper queen. But such is life…it twists and turns and changes and it’s beautiful.

Monday is the third “angelversary” of her loss. She’s chosen how she will honor that and her beau, like Mr. FixIt, has a big enough heart for her AND her late husband. I was reading her Facebook post tonight and she mentioned something I told her that very first day we met. We were talking about how much our lives have changed…change we certainly did not want…change we didn’t see coming and weren’t prepared for. I told her we were pickles now. She looked at me, puzzled.

“You see, we were cucumbers all our lives. And now, we’re pickles. Once you’re a pickle, you don’t get to go back and be a fresh, green cucumber. Now you get to choose…are you sour? Or are you sweet?”

My heart is with you in the coming days, D. And let me tell you…you’re the sweetest little pickle there ever was! ❤

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you…” ‭‭Ezekiel‬ ‭36:26‬ ‭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

Catching Up

Sun, 18 Mar 2018 01:30:52 -0600

“Copying content to the website.”

It’s not necessarily that I’m a procrastinator so much as it’s being a Gemini. I have to be in the mood to do something or I really don’t do it well. Or I don’t stick to it. The last couple of days, I decided I felt like diving back in and working on copying the Facebook content of Marshmallow Ranch over to the website blog. It is a HUGE undertaking and sometimes it can send me down a rabbit hole. Not this time. I read and corrected any grammar errors and, even though I was terribly tempted on a few of those posts, I left everything as it was. I look at some of the posts and wonder what on EARTH I was thinking! Remember that “bandaid relationship” when I “dated” that guy from my high school class? Not a bad man, really….but certainly not MY man and certainly WAY too early.

Daughter #2 called me the other day and I told her I had run across the post where I “introduced this guy”. She said, “Oh, my gosh, Mom…what did you do?” I told her I left it like it was. It’s embarrassing that I thought I was ready to date just six months after Mr. Virgo died. But it’s also a true testament as to how totally crazy grief can make you. I know there are some who can make a relationship like that work, but for me, it was desperate cry for help. I just wanted the bleeding to stop and he was my bandaid. The thing was, once I figured that out and pulled that bandaid off…it was a hundred times worse.

I ran across the one year angelversary tribute to Mr. Virgo and instead of feeling sad, I felt proud and full of love. I wrote a loving tribute to him and it was fitting to the love we had together. I found the post where I gave his guitar to the alternative high school’s music program. The one where I had to put TOW-Wanda to bed for the winter. The only bad thing about this is I’m finding holes in the timeline where I feel posts are missing from Facebook. Another reason why I need to duplicate the content and put it on my website where it’s safe.

I’ve posted about a year of the old stories and you can find them on the website by looking at the timeline over on the right side of the page. My goal has been to get these all over there so new widows can go back and read the earlier content when things were so rough and raw. You’ll see some good ones, some sad ones, some embarrassing ones, some sweet ones. Hope you enjoy them as much as I did looking back. ❤️

“Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?” For it is not wise to ask such questions.” ‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭7:10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Own Your Experiences

Sat, 17 Mar 2018 01:30:07 -0600

“Own Your Experiences”

I don’t know if it’s because every time I turn around, I read about someone I know dying or not, but the last few weeks have been making me dig deep. I hate that people I know are dying…some all too soon. I know…I’ll soon be 65. I’m getting to the age where we lose more of our contemporaries. I get that. Doesn’t make it any easier. What it HAS done is made me work harder. I’m researching more. I networking more. I’m writing more. Still building a foundation…a platform…a community. Of grievers. FOR grievers.

I was looking at my social media numbers the other day and wondered about my Twitter account. It just kinda lays there. I put some things out there and they rarely get noticed. My words can’t help anyone if they don’t get noticed and that is my goal in all of this…to help others as I hope I’m helping you. As I meditated on what I was doing wrong, I started looking up other writers and bloggers who tweet and do instagram and Facebook. Almost all of them have “grief” in their Twitter handle. “Marshmallow Ranch” tells no one that even a part of my blog deals with grief. I could be trying to raise wild marshmallows for all anyone knows.

I used to get phone calls for Mr. Virgo after he died. They would ask for him. I’d say he’s not available but I could get a message to him.

“Have you seen the catalogue we sent?” a man asked.

“What kind of catalogue?”

“Ranch supplies.”

Oh….this is too easy.

“Oh, thank goodness! We are having a heck of a time with our crops!”

This perked him up. “Oh? What are you trying to grow?”

“Why…marshmallows, of course! This IS Marshmallow Ranch after all!”

Silence.

Then I started laughing and explained I’m not a “ranch” and I don’t grow marshmallows. I’m a writer and I write a grief blog. Which makes about as much sense, public relations wise, as confectionery agribusiness. But I digress.

The point was, I haven’t been reaching as many folks as I could be if I had the word “grief” in there somewhere. So, I did a little experiment. I started a second Twitter account with the handle @GriefMaven. In two weeks, The Grief Maven as seen more activity than in all the five years of the Marshmallow Ranch Twitter account, so I think I’m onto something. I’m still working on it, but I’ve been connecting with some really wonderful writers, bloggers, podcasters, and speakers who deal with grief and grief related subjects. I’m expanding my territory. (Thank you again to the Prayer of Jabez.)

One of the women I have connected with has a FB page called BreatheGrieveBelieve (on Twitter she is @griefsabitch.) As it turns out, we know some of the same people and she lives about an hour and a half from me so we’ll meet for lunch halfway sometime soon. Susan lost her husband and her daughter within 56 days of each other…horrifying. She tweeted this picture a few days ago and it just spoke to me.

I’ve been putting off copying and transferring my early posts from this FB page over to my website because I can only do it for short stretches of time. It makes me dive back into the early weeks/months/years of this journey and it stirs up a lot of pain. Yesterday, I got to the post where I told you I was dating someone. I read what I wrote back then and rolled my eyes. Quote: “Now that I’m over my grief…” What??? I was six months out. As I read that, I thought…Nope, that has to go. I don’t want that in my blog. But I cannot rewrite history. I told you all from the beginning I was going to be brutally honest and tell you what I was going through on this hellish roller coaster and by golly…it doesn’t get much uglier than watching someone put a bandaid on their grief and date someone WAY too soon. Well, yes it does….when the bandaid gets yanked back off. That was pretty brutal.

Anyway, I own everything that has happened to me so I’m telling my stories. Sometimes they embarrass ME…that I could have been so blind, so naive, so stupid. But…I was none of those things. I was grieving. And for that, I give myself a pass. ❤️

“Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?” ‭‭Job‬ ‭12:12‬ ‭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

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

Letting Go of Fear

Sat, 10 Mar 2018 02:30:46 -0600

“Let Go of Fear”

When I was writing yesterday’s post, I was feeling so overwhelmed. I have the usual stresses of everyday life…dental work that needs to be done, taxes that need to be filed, new brakes and inspection on the truck. Then there are the dead and dying…of which there are far too many. I hadn’t been sleeping well. Mr. FixIt has been busy and tired. I had that all too familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was one crisis away from losing it altogether and I hate that. So I did what needed to be done…I had a good cry and went to church.

Last night was the Annual Women’s Conference at my church. There wasn’t an empty chair in the place. I don’t know if you have ever gone to an all women service before, but if you haven’t…you NEED to. Between the estrogen and Jesus, that place was electric. We have a great praise team and they didn’t disappoint. We played some get-to-know-each-other games. We had a share-your-selfie-on-social-media contest. There were prizes and cookies. Then Pastor Heather spoke about letting faith rise up in us instead of fear, worry, anxiety. She knew her audience. We are women. This is what we do.

The thing is, by allowing fear to rise up in us instead of faith, we are not letting God do His job. We are trying to do it for Him. When we are standing in the storms of life, it is not our basic instinct to lay back and relax. We start rowing the boat double time. We try to skirt around the storm. We try to ignore the storm. We try to just wait out the storm. The quietest part of a hurricane is the eye. It is windless standing in the center. When we let go and let faith rise up in us, God sets us down in the eye where we are protected from the storm’s fury. In the meantime, we get out of God’s way so He can do His work.

By the end of the evening, the atmosphere was fairly crackling. We were given symbolic coins and asked to hold them in our hands and charge them with the worries, stresses, anxieties, and fears that weigh us down and keep us from enjoying God’s Peace. As we left the conference, we threw those “coins” in a fountain in the lobby…symbolically leaving them behind. I felt so much better as I drove home. I still have all that stuff going on in my life, but now I’m reminded to let go and let God take care of His part. If I go to God FIRST, if I ask Him to take over, life just goes SO much smoother.

I was going to take a break this weekend, but I felt inspired to share this with you today and those who have been around long enough know I can’t go without writing every day. I hope you have a beautiful Saturday! ❤

“The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭118:6‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Endings and Beginnings

Sun, 04 Mar 2018 02:30:19 -0600

Daffodils

I watched my husband die. It was fast. It seemed relatively painless. Not pain free, but not unbearable. He seemed to take everything in stride with a certain…resignation. Like he knew what was coming, so why fight it? Interestingly…it was like that for me too, looking back on it. I’m sure I was in shock, because every time I ever pictured what would happen if/when he died, it certainly wasn’t with me sitting on a stool in the corner of the room answering medical questions in a flat monotone. I wasn’t beating my chest or screaming or even crying. I don’t remember crying till I saw my kids.

As hard as that was to go through, I cannot…simply cannot imagine what people go through who lose their loved one to a terrible, slow, painful death like cancer or COPD or Alzheimer’s. My cousin’s wife came over Friday after making arrangements for her mother’s funeral. Her mom had esophageal cancer. We sat together and I listened to her tell me about the last six months. The long nights. The conflicting medical information. The radiation and chemo. When she got to the night of her mother’s death, I was in such awe of her strength and courage. What she went through for her mom was heroic in my book. What I loved most was when her mom motioned to her, as if she needed to tell her something. When she bent down to listen, her mother kissed her on the cheek and took her last breath. My mother died alone in an ICU because I couldn’t get to her in time. She got a kiss on the cheek! I loved that for her because she will never, ever forget that loving gesture.

Crocus

Real death isn’t like the movies. Sometimes it’s that peaceful scene where the family gathers around and tells their loved one how important they were in their lives and how much they loved them. Sometimes there’s soft music and candlelight and kisses on cheeks. And sometimes they stop CPR after three hours and tell you they’re sorry. Is one way “better” than the other? Is there such a thing as a “good death”. I think there is, but it’s not always possible because death isn’t predictable. It isn’t a script.

Crocus in the Spring

Someone I love very much is dying. Not actively as in it’s imminent. But it’s coming. Everyone knows it’s coming. I love him and his entire family. For the last five years I have written a daily essay, much of it about grief. And when I talk with his wife, I feel woefully inadequate. I haven’t gone through that kind of death. I haven’t had to know it was coming for three years and fight the good fight and be strong and courageous and lose anyway. What do I say to her? How can I best serve her? I had no idea…so I asked. I told her how sorry I was that it was coming to this. I told her how much I love them both. I told her I knew she must be scared. And, I told her I was at a loss as to how best to help her. Then I asked her to tell me exactly what would help her the most right now. She said to pray. Pray for strength and courage for her. That I can do…in spades.

Daffodils in the Ditch

Grief is something that touches all of us. If it hasn’t touched you yet, it will. Mr. FixIt and I were talking about it yesterday. After losing Mr. Virgo, I’ve gone and done the one thing I SWORE I would never, ever do again. I gave my heart away to love again…with wild abandon…knowing full well what it feels like to lose. That is either absolutely crazy or the absolute evidence that God can carry you through anything. I could lose this man tomorrow. Or next week or next year or thirty years from now. Or…I could be the first to go, who knows? I’m glad we don’t know exactly when we will die. It doesn’t pay to dwell on it…but we can’t deny it either. If there is an upside…and that is truly a stretch to even call it that…it’s having the time to say goodbye, to express everything you wanted to say, to make arrangements, to learn how to do the things your partner did, and to give them the gift of your service in their transition. As Ram Dass, says…”We are all just walking each other home.” ❤️

“For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come.” ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭13:14‬ ‭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

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

“I Think We Woke Up The Children...”

Thu, 22 Feb 2018 02:30:02 -0600

“Protests…Then and Now”

Those of us who were coming of age in the ‘60s remember the protests of the day. Slogans like “Make Love, Not War” are being replaced with “Arms Are For Hugging”. For the last several years I’ve been wondering…”Where are the hippies?” The adolescents of my generation changed the world. It has been frustrating to see subsequent generations become so complacent with the status quo.

I’m not choosing sides here, although I have my own personal opinions and beliefs to be sure. I don’t advocate “taking sides” as much as I have wished for the kids to wake up and care about something. Anything. This is how change and growth occur in a democratic society.

I applaud the young people standing up and speaking out. My heart both broke for them for the subject they must address and swelled with pride to see such passion and eloquence in their plea. This is our future. I would much rather see students rally against violence in schools than to see them give up and give in. I think they didn’t realize the strength of numbers. I think they got fed up and fired up and I hope they don’t back down.

Edited*: That being said, I have been reminded by a caring reader of the ugly side of the “Make Love, Not War” movement. Our soldiers were subjected to incredible disrespect when they returned from Vietnam and there is absolutely no room for that in the world. Mr. Virgo was in Vietnam and he told me how badly he was treated when he came home. My point here is, I’m glad to see this generation stand for something instead of the disinterested me-first attitudes of so many kids growing up in the generations since the ‘60s. I know that is a generalization. Peaceful, respectful protest with meaningful, informed dialogue can effect lasting change.

I’ve been a placard carrier since the first political rally I attended. I have stood alone in a sea of opponents to support my beliefs. I have bucked the system. There came a point when I got tired. Disillusioned. Overwhelmed. We didn’t always get it right but it thrills me to see the children waking up, no matter what their call is. Another day…another dawning of the Age of Aquarius. ✌

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."” ‭‭Joshua‬ ‭1:9‬ ‭ESV‬‬

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

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

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

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

When Things Get Scary

Thu, 08 Feb 2018 02:30:37 -0600

“Stock Market”

Disclaimer: I do not give financial advice. This essay only expresses my feelings.

Personal wealth is a matter of comparison. If you compare my financial picture to a goat herder in the Sahara Desert, I am a multimillionaire. If you compare me to a member of the Fortune 500, I am poor as a church mouse. It’s all relative. But what I do have, I want to protect and watch over carefully.

I have spent my whole life deferring all this nasty talk of money to the man in my life. Not because I am incapable of understanding the intricacies of a budget, but because any marital discord I have ever experienced in my life has had something to do with money. Usually with him making it and me spending too much of it. My parents fought over money constantly. Frankly, money…or the lack thereof…scared the heck out of me. So, I avoided talking about it.

Then, Mr. Virgo up and died on me and left me to learn a lifetime of money management skills I simply did not possess. The first thing I did the week after the funeral was to switch to a financial advisor who specializes in women in transition…ie widows or divorcees. Danielle Howard was recommended to me by a fellow widow friend who was kind enough to help me set up and meet with her for the first time.

Danielle offers two lanes in her financial planning…secular and Christian. I was intrigued. The Christian approach teaches you to be a good steward of what God has provided for you. That’s the route I went with. I met with Danielle frequently at first because there was so much to learn. I wasn’t confident in my decision making skills at all. Danielle was patient, understanding, and nonjudgmental when I made SO many mistakes in the first two or three years after Mr. Virgo died.

I was told, “Watch your money.” “Don’t make any big financial decisions in the first year.” “Resist the urge to be overly generous.” But did I listen? Not very well. I tried to fill that hole in my heart with travel and shopping and generosity. Then I woke up and realized, I had to be MUCH more careful or I was going to run out of money.

The Stock Market is probably the singularly scariest entity in my life. I am convinced it is the Devil’s spawn. This last year has been wonderful because I could breathe and not worry about losing what little bit of money I have invested. It’s been a banner year for stocks. Then…the “Big Bang” hit late last week and early this week. When the market fell 1500 points on Monday, I panicked. I called Danielle and left a voice mail telling her I was totally freaking out and could she kindly call me back as soon as possible.

Then I fixed a cup of tea. I mean, what else could I do, right? Tea…and wait. Visions of selling pencils from a cup on the street corner started to float in front of me and my heart raced. Crazy…I know. But that’s what money does to me. Then I remembered all those meetings with Danielle at the Bluebird Cafe where we sat over coffee and she taught me about money.

“What would Danielle do?” I thought to myself.

I could almost hear her voice. “Knowledge is power.”

I went to the internet and started reading some of the reputable financial news sites to get their take on the biggest drop ever. I soothed myself with articles about market corrections and stabilization. How these things are expected and actually good for the market in the long run. The takeaway I got was…breathe. Don’t pull out. Just hold steady and ride the waves.

I’m pretty good at riding waves.

By the time Danielle called, I was feeling much more in control. I told her about going online and educating myself as to what was going on and what it meant. And I felt so empowered when she said, “Way to go! That’s really great that you took a proactive stance and learned all you could so you could make informed decisions.” I know it sounds so silly, but that was HUGE for me. I felt so…grown up and more in control.

This last year has been really interesting for me. Since downsizing and living a minimalistic lifestyle, I have found my spending to be under much better control. I’ve become more frugal, careful. I don’t NEED anything, really. If I accumulate, I have to go through downsizing. I really don’t ever want to do that again.

Widowhood and divorce can often leave us in dire straights. Knowledge really IS power so learn all you can about money and budgeting. And remember, dealing with corrections in the Stock Market is exactly like skiing in deep powder. You have to kick back and rest on the tails of your skis. If you lean too far forward, you’ll take a tumble.

Oh…and pray. Pray a LOT! ❤

“Why should fools have money in hand to buy wisdom, when they are not able to understand it?” ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭17:16‬ ‭NIV‬‬

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