Naps (for myself)
A Solid Night's Sleep
Discretionary Income
Long, Leisurely Evenings in Which to :
Bath, Perform Manicures, Apply Facemasks, or Any Other Pampering Activities
Skinny Waist
Going to the Bathroom In Solitary Peace
Showering Without Interruption
Bath Towels That Are Always Hung Up and Left Alone for the Proper Owner to Use
A Bathroom That Remains As Clean and Neat As When I Cleaned It
Being Allowed to Enjoy a Plate of Food Entirely for Myself
Eating Without Getting Up At Least Once to Fetch Something for Someone Else
Going An Entire Day Without Needing to Change Something I'm Wearing At Least Once
Buying Dry-Clean Only Clothes
Being Allowed to Lay Around and Rest When Ill
Being Able to Have a Plan and Stick to It
Having No One to Cook For
Having to Eat Alone
Not Having a Good Laugh for Days On End
Going Home to An Empty House
Not Having Anyone Worry About Where I Am When Running Late
Having to Pass Up Buying Cute Outfits That Are Way, Way Too Small for Me
Wondering If I'll Ever Find Prince Charming
Wondering If Prince Charming Will Still Think I'm Beautiful After Five Babies And No Makeup
Wondering If I'll Have to Grow Old Alone
Moving Every 2-3 Years
Boredom
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Sunday, September 23, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Seasonal Decorations
Okay, I think it needs to be said. Out loud.
As I was driving to the church the other day, I noticed a couple of sawhorses set up in someone's driveway with a huge pile of cornstalks laying out to dry. I can only presume the cornstalks were in preparation for fall decorations, as this particular house has a beautifully kept front yard and flower bed. As I drove by, it ocurred to me that the only people who have the time, money, and inclination for seasonal decorating en mass, are those who - frankly - have actually very little to do with genuine seasonal activity (i.e. this home doesn't have - ahem - a farm field, vegetable garden or fruit tree in sight....).
Now, don't get me wrong. I love seasonal decorations. I love browsing decorating magazines as much as the next woman, and I can get dreamy about how my house might look if I actually had the time and money that some people obviously have.
However, it has been several years now since I have had the luxury - and yes, it is a luxury - of spending money on objects that are simply meant to represent the beauty, grandeur, or nostalgia of the seasonal changes. Instead, my house is full of the not-so-beautiful-but-very-practical signs of the seasons as they roll by. For example - I don't possess a pile of nicely drying cornstalks in my yard this fall. I DO, however, have a garden that is in various stages of drying as the weather cools. My cornstalks are drying up where they were planted - standing in the garden in a rather wilted state. My kitchen is full of boxes of canned foods that I have busy with for over a month now. Canning supplies are, simply put, everywhere. Between Luke and myself, they get sprinkled from the kitchen to the front door on a sometimes daily basis. In other words.....fall decorating in real form. Not pretty, but definitely harvest-themed!
The same could be said for any of the other seasons, as well. ,It's not that I don't try, at least somewhat, but.............My decorating these days for Thanksgiving and Christmas consists of slapping a wreath on the front door, (maybe) finding a table center-piece, and for all of two weeks in December, hoisting a tree in our dining room. Otherwise, my seasonal decorations consist of the smells of seasonal foods cooking, simmering, or baking in the kitchen, from spiced cider in freezing December to ham and scalloped potatoes on Resurrection Sunday. In the winter, I must add, "decorations" also includes snowpants, boots, coats, hats, scarves and mittens strewn from the front to the back door, usually clumped around the furnace vents as they dry. Spring decorating at my house is now compiled of gardening magazines and rubber boots (my new best friend in the early spring weeks); seed catalogs and gardening gloves, and sometimes a capenter's tape as I scramble to measure yard and garden spaces while dreaming of new floral scapes and vegetable beds.
Someday, perhaps, I'll have a beautifully decorated home again. But for now, I decorate as an itsy-bitsy scale farmer; in real-time, real-world, real-seasonal style. Not something fit for a home decorating magazine features, but definitely fit for a family farm feature. No more feeling sad or bad or sorry for myself that my house doesn't look Martha Stewart-ish. Instead, I think I'll head out to the garden and see how orange our giant pumpkin looks.
As I was driving to the church the other day, I noticed a couple of sawhorses set up in someone's driveway with a huge pile of cornstalks laying out to dry. I can only presume the cornstalks were in preparation for fall decorations, as this particular house has a beautifully kept front yard and flower bed. As I drove by, it ocurred to me that the only people who have the time, money, and inclination for seasonal decorating en mass, are those who - frankly - have actually very little to do with genuine seasonal activity (i.e. this home doesn't have - ahem - a farm field, vegetable garden or fruit tree in sight....).
Now, don't get me wrong. I love seasonal decorations. I love browsing decorating magazines as much as the next woman, and I can get dreamy about how my house might look if I actually had the time and money that some people obviously have.
However, it has been several years now since I have had the luxury - and yes, it is a luxury - of spending money on objects that are simply meant to represent the beauty, grandeur, or nostalgia of the seasonal changes. Instead, my house is full of the not-so-beautiful-but-very-practical signs of the seasons as they roll by. For example - I don't possess a pile of nicely drying cornstalks in my yard this fall. I DO, however, have a garden that is in various stages of drying as the weather cools. My cornstalks are drying up where they were planted - standing in the garden in a rather wilted state. My kitchen is full of boxes of canned foods that I have busy with for over a month now. Canning supplies are, simply put, everywhere. Between Luke and myself, they get sprinkled from the kitchen to the front door on a sometimes daily basis. In other words.....fall decorating in real form. Not pretty, but definitely harvest-themed!
The same could be said for any of the other seasons, as well. ,It's not that I don't try, at least somewhat, but.............My decorating these days for Thanksgiving and Christmas consists of slapping a wreath on the front door, (maybe) finding a table center-piece, and for all of two weeks in December, hoisting a tree in our dining room. Otherwise, my seasonal decorations consist of the smells of seasonal foods cooking, simmering, or baking in the kitchen, from spiced cider in freezing December to ham and scalloped potatoes on Resurrection Sunday. In the winter, I must add, "decorations" also includes snowpants, boots, coats, hats, scarves and mittens strewn from the front to the back door, usually clumped around the furnace vents as they dry. Spring decorating at my house is now compiled of gardening magazines and rubber boots (my new best friend in the early spring weeks); seed catalogs and gardening gloves, and sometimes a capenter's tape as I scramble to measure yard and garden spaces while dreaming of new floral scapes and vegetable beds.
Someday, perhaps, I'll have a beautifully decorated home again. But for now, I decorate as an itsy-bitsy scale farmer; in real-time, real-world, real-seasonal style. Not something fit for a home decorating magazine features, but definitely fit for a family farm feature. No more feeling sad or bad or sorry for myself that my house doesn't look Martha Stewart-ish. Instead, I think I'll head out to the garden and see how orange our giant pumpkin looks.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
All In a Night's Work....
It's amazing to me at times to see how life experiences can deepen and expand our perspective concerning different subjects. I have always been a huge supporter of our Second Amendment. It often bothers me when people say disparaging things about owning firearms, because to me it shows, very simply, a huge lack of knowledge of U.S. history, and why our founding fathers even gave us the 2nd Amdment in the very first place. As the old saying goes, those who don't know their history are bound to repeat it.
Now, I have to admit that my thoughts on this issue have been shaped rather dramatically by the presence, for 3 years, of a neighbor who was not only a schizophrenic, but who also would take to literally stalking my two girls and I every time we stepped out of our house. If we were anywhere within visual range of his house, and he was aware we were out and about in the yard, he would jump in his car and start circling the block. Sometimes this just made me mad; other times, it became unnerving. Eventually, he moved away, but three years of being on high alert, with a husband who frequently worked out of town for 2-3 days on end, was enough to make me appreciate the value of owning firearms for self-defense.
To top this off, just two weeks ago I was awakened in the night by the sound of our basement door, which opens into the dining room, being rattled against the chair I had wedged under the door-knob (it's a cheap hollow door, so I have been reinforcing it at night). With five children, three of them babies, in the house, I am a light sleeper. I have been awakened numerous times over the past seven years; I can almost always place the sound I heard within just a minute or two. I could be wrong about what took place here a couple of weeks ago, but I don't think so. The rattling downstairs woke me from a sound sleep through the motors and fans of two air conditioners. I sat up, turned on my lamp and shut one air conditioner off, and listened intently. After about 3 minutes, I heard what sounded like a man's voice exclaim something, together with something falling in the basement. I should add that our basement is currently all dug out. We are putting in an entirely new foundation and walls, and the basement stairwell is open directly to the outside right now. I think it was after this second sound that I grabbed my gun. I sleep with a loaded handgun by my bed when Adam is gone. Most of the time it is locked up, but when he is working nights, I take it out of the safe and put it in a locked holster in the dresser drawer by the bed. I grabbed this, and the phone. After another four minutes of intense listening and prayer, I heard a third noise, and this is when I finally called 911. While waiting for the sherrifs to arrive at 2:30 a.m., I stayed on the phone with the dispatcher, who commented a couple of times about how calm I was staying. I refrained from telling him (I didn't want him worrying about the deputies coming to the house) that it is much easier to be calm when you have a loaded gun by your side. Also, when you are a mom with a house full of children/babies, panicking really isn't an option.
The deputy sherrif's didn't find anyone when they got to the house, but they did inform me that they had received a call just a few hours earlier about a "suspicious" tansient at the bar just two blocks from our house. I strongly suspect that whoever was trying to break in thought the house was empty. Not everyone realizes you can live in a house with the basement dug out like ours is right now. He was either looking for some small valuables to nab, or a free place to crash for the night. At any rate, my locked doors were his best friend that night. Otherwise, he could potentially have been staring at the wrong end of my handgun.
I sincerely hope I never have to use my gun to defend my children or myself, but I am here to say that I will use it if necessary. One of the biggest realizations I had to come to grips with after becoming a mom was that just hiding or running isn't an option when you have children. When Adam is out of the house, keeping them safe is my job as their mother. Do I believe God has a hand in this as well? Absolutely. I believe it was God who gave me the nudge to wake up; who gave the discernment to know what the sounds were that I heard, and who prompted me to call 911. He is also the one who directed my husband to equip me to defend myself should the need arise, a few years ago when the situation with this other neighbor was becoming unsettling.
And finally, for all the "tree-huggers" who sincerely believe animals should have more rights than humans when it comes to self-defense, allow me to say this; more gun laws will never stop bad guys from having guns. Remember the prohibition days? (Here again - the value of knowing your history helps....) In owning a gun and being prepared to use one, I would like to point out that I am doing no more and no less than any wild animal would, in readiness to defend her young and her own life. We have all heard the stories of a wild bear or big cat somewhere attacking a human, only to discover that it was just a mommy defending her young, who were in hiding nearby. Whenever we hear those stories, we somehow instinctively know that those animals were simply doing their jobs, as moms, and the unfortunate victim should have stayed away. Of course, the politically correcct media plays this angle up - subtly, but effectively. Well, I'm here to say that I'm a mommy too, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect my babies, as well, even if - perhaps especially if - it requires the use of firearms. My advice to you is, to do the same. And don't surprise me in the middle of the night.
Now, I have to admit that my thoughts on this issue have been shaped rather dramatically by the presence, for 3 years, of a neighbor who was not only a schizophrenic, but who also would take to literally stalking my two girls and I every time we stepped out of our house. If we were anywhere within visual range of his house, and he was aware we were out and about in the yard, he would jump in his car and start circling the block. Sometimes this just made me mad; other times, it became unnerving. Eventually, he moved away, but three years of being on high alert, with a husband who frequently worked out of town for 2-3 days on end, was enough to make me appreciate the value of owning firearms for self-defense.
To top this off, just two weeks ago I was awakened in the night by the sound of our basement door, which opens into the dining room, being rattled against the chair I had wedged under the door-knob (it's a cheap hollow door, so I have been reinforcing it at night). With five children, three of them babies, in the house, I am a light sleeper. I have been awakened numerous times over the past seven years; I can almost always place the sound I heard within just a minute or two. I could be wrong about what took place here a couple of weeks ago, but I don't think so. The rattling downstairs woke me from a sound sleep through the motors and fans of two air conditioners. I sat up, turned on my lamp and shut one air conditioner off, and listened intently. After about 3 minutes, I heard what sounded like a man's voice exclaim something, together with something falling in the basement. I should add that our basement is currently all dug out. We are putting in an entirely new foundation and walls, and the basement stairwell is open directly to the outside right now. I think it was after this second sound that I grabbed my gun. I sleep with a loaded handgun by my bed when Adam is gone. Most of the time it is locked up, but when he is working nights, I take it out of the safe and put it in a locked holster in the dresser drawer by the bed. I grabbed this, and the phone. After another four minutes of intense listening and prayer, I heard a third noise, and this is when I finally called 911. While waiting for the sherrifs to arrive at 2:30 a.m., I stayed on the phone with the dispatcher, who commented a couple of times about how calm I was staying. I refrained from telling him (I didn't want him worrying about the deputies coming to the house) that it is much easier to be calm when you have a loaded gun by your side. Also, when you are a mom with a house full of children/babies, panicking really isn't an option.
The deputy sherrif's didn't find anyone when they got to the house, but they did inform me that they had received a call just a few hours earlier about a "suspicious" tansient at the bar just two blocks from our house. I strongly suspect that whoever was trying to break in thought the house was empty. Not everyone realizes you can live in a house with the basement dug out like ours is right now. He was either looking for some small valuables to nab, or a free place to crash for the night. At any rate, my locked doors were his best friend that night. Otherwise, he could potentially have been staring at the wrong end of my handgun.
I sincerely hope I never have to use my gun to defend my children or myself, but I am here to say that I will use it if necessary. One of the biggest realizations I had to come to grips with after becoming a mom was that just hiding or running isn't an option when you have children. When Adam is out of the house, keeping them safe is my job as their mother. Do I believe God has a hand in this as well? Absolutely. I believe it was God who gave me the nudge to wake up; who gave the discernment to know what the sounds were that I heard, and who prompted me to call 911. He is also the one who directed my husband to equip me to defend myself should the need arise, a few years ago when the situation with this other neighbor was becoming unsettling.
And finally, for all the "tree-huggers" who sincerely believe animals should have more rights than humans when it comes to self-defense, allow me to say this; more gun laws will never stop bad guys from having guns. Remember the prohibition days? (Here again - the value of knowing your history helps....) In owning a gun and being prepared to use one, I would like to point out that I am doing no more and no less than any wild animal would, in readiness to defend her young and her own life. We have all heard the stories of a wild bear or big cat somewhere attacking a human, only to discover that it was just a mommy defending her young, who were in hiding nearby. Whenever we hear those stories, we somehow instinctively know that those animals were simply doing their jobs, as moms, and the unfortunate victim should have stayed away. Of course, the politically correcct media plays this angle up - subtly, but effectively. Well, I'm here to say that I'm a mommy too, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect my babies, as well, even if - perhaps especially if - it requires the use of firearms. My advice to you is, to do the same. And don't surprise me in the middle of the night.
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