The Stingy Seamripper

one of my very favorite moments of 2014 (and all time) It has been nearly a year since I’ve written anything of a personal nature that I cared to publish.  I’ve started several times to write something I hoped might turn into a blogpost, but it never was shareable or even finishable in most cases.  They all turned into these selfish, writhing pity parties that are embarrassing to even reread myself.  Blah.  You’re not missing out, trust me.  At the start of last year, I was so hopeful to “keep better memories.” That was my well-intentioned, silly little resolution for 2014.  I had great plans of taking more pictures, writing more, keeping mementos, and teaching my kids (and me) to savor moments and seek out joy in the everyday.  I bought a little divided tray, which I think I may have mentioned in one of the blogposts that actually happened last January, and intended to sort of catalog each month in that tray.  I bought adorable scrapbookin...

It's something I do approximately 2 times per year.  Well, ok... I guess it's technically a lot more times than that, but only for approximately 2 occasions.  Once to put Christmas lights up and once to take them down.  David did the ones "way up" in the eave of our porch (and some of the others in the putting-up process), but due to his angry feet/ankle issues, I do the lion's share of the ladder climbing these days. And before I go any farther... yes, yesterday's date was January 16.  Perhaps some of you are more punctual about removing your outdoor Christmas decor, but I don't mesh well with freezing or rain or gale force winds or any combination thereof, so ye olde twinkle lights... they stayed put way past Christmas and New Years and Epiphany (or whatever the Catholic holiday is some people want to leave their stuff up until).  There's no rhyme or reason to my decoration removal other than, if it's the day after Christmas, I want the inside ...

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...