The Stingy Seamripper

this photo is pretty much a perfect example of how I spend the winter 1. I'm pretty sure the most traumatic moments of my day have already happened and those occurred when I had to get out of bed and had to find some pants that were, of course, tangled in a basket of laundry. Note: In the interest of anyone's disturbing mental images, I don't sleep pantsless unless I'm wearing a gown, which I was/am.  With pants, currently.  You're welcome. 2. The main reason that getting out of bed was so devastating is that I shamelessly confiscated the heated throw which was a Christmas gift to my husband  and took it to bed with me.  It was set on the 3-red-bars setting, which is, I've found, the perfect setting when it's on top of a quilt and a flannel sheet (and no pants, but not in a creepy-I-sleep-with-no-pants-on kind of way, which we've already established).  Furthermore, it turns out that the 4-red-bars setting is the perfect setting for when ...

Happy New Years, friends! a unicorn for your viewing pleasure I usually stay away from new-years-ish resolving simply because I know myself.  For one thing, I know that any resolution I would normally make would be something I know I should  do and not necessarily anything I would want  to do.  And if I'm trying to do something that I don't really want  to do, I'm going to get tired of it and spend a few days absolutely making myself do whatever it is.  Which means I'm going to hate some portion of every day of my life for a few days until I just stop doing it altogether.  Which means I'm going to be disappointed with myself and spend some amount of time hating myself and wallowing in self-loathing. No bueno. New Years is such a dangerous time for people like me.  I love the idea of having a plan.  I'm just not always so great at executing the plan.  I love a good to-do list.  I'm just a little too tormented by the ...

Tonight, I'm coming out of blog-hiding to share something that I wrote a couple years ago and recently re-discovered in an old journal.  The other night, as I was lying in bed, wrestling with unsettling thoughts and unable to sleep, I felt drawn to this old journal, which was tucked under my nightstand.  I like journals, so I've had a lot.  This one's only significance is that it's the only one in which I filled every page.  Not that it's a great accomplishment, in the grand scheme of things, but if none of my other myriad journals survive, I hope this one does.  It's the one that sounds most like who I'd like to be.  It sounds like the me that I am when I let God take the controls. Some posts are not much more than rambling, some are troubled, some are angry, but they all have a stillness about them.  Even those nights when I was upset about something, there was still a sense of knowing that God would see me through it.  I remember it as a time...

On this, the day following this year’s NCAA championship game and living in the great commonwealth of Kentucky, I can’t help but be painfully aware of the angst some of my fellow natives are feeling today.   Yes, the University of Louisville achieved victory last night and some other team was forced to accept defeat.   From the small details I’ve picked up here and there, that other team, Michigan something I think, played well enough, but just couldn’t quite hack it.   Obviously, my sports knowledge is lacking, but I’d say at this point that pretty much covers the basics. I’m not a sports person, but I think even if I were my mind would have been elsewhere as I rose this morning.  As I look out across my front yard at the world coming to life with the many-thousandth springtime miracle, my thoughts are drawn away to death and defeat.  For the past few weeks, I’ve considered our adversary, Satan, and how he works on us.  How he goes to and fro....

 I'm thankful to say that my life has reached a season in which I'm able to listen to sermons again.  Sometimes.  In chunks big enough to at least know what it's about.  Sometimes. Anyway, this past Sunday, both of my children were occupied and quiet enough that I was able to pay attention and even (gasp!) take notes.  Considering the subject now, it's no big shock that God wanted me to hear it. It seems like I'm always struggling with something and here lately it's been my parenting skills... or lack thereof.  It's hard to parent when you're being convicted to change something about yourself.  Resisting God's will and being a patient, loving, kind person don't seem to go hand in hand.  And being a frustrated, rude, hateful person and being a mama don't go hand in hand. Does it ever feel like God is trying to tell you something everywhere you look? Every blogpost I've "happened" on, every scripture I've tried to rea...

 This is probably my favorite thing I've ever written.  Some may have read it previously on another blog, but I happened upon it and just had to share it again.  I feel like I refer to laundry a lot when I write.  It's just so relative to... well, everything! Here's an explanation of why I think so... enjoy! --- If there were ever a fit analogy for eternity, it must be laundry. It is the ever-present stuff that life is made of. And even when the baskets are empty, the promise of tomorrow's dirty socks, underwear lingers. Since, after all, every today's starchy button down or grungy Saturday t-shirt is every tomorrow's lights and darks. Even before birth, one's diapers, clothes, and bed linens must be laundered appropriately. A time-consuming task for the nesting mother. One's laundry must be continued indefinitely by whomever is brave enough to take on the task. All of this is hardly a concern to most until the great new adventure of c...

I am a second-generation homeschool beginner. Before attending a tiny, church-affiliated private school, I was taught at home by my parents for 5 years. I learned to read at the kitchen table. It was also there I learned those basic foundational skills that carried me through the remainder of elementary and middle school, high school, and finally college (WKU class of 2008 - Go big red!). This is the first year I've sat on the other side of the table. We did preschool this year.  The past-tense is only partly true.  We had a lot of ups and downs and backs and forths while trying to get our feet under us, but the Kiddo is able to do everything (and more) I put in my original goal for the year, so overall I'm pleased.  In a technical sense, we're done for the year.  In a practical sense, I don't guess I'll ever really be done until my children's education passes into someone else's hands.  Oh, and because I don't want a backslidden Kindergartner, w...