Some weeks it seems that even while we feel most un-inspired and are bogged down in household duties and work, there's something brewing under the surface, though we may not be aware of it as we wash the dishes and sweep the floors and inventory our freezer and pantry. I forget this too often and this weekend I had two revelations that were astonishing.
As I've worked this week I've been listening to the Inspiration Channel and specifically to Mike Murdoch, whom I shall freely admit, I have consistently changed channels whenever I saw his face. But this week he's been aired on Inspiration about 10 times. I can't seem to get away from him! So I listened. Sometimes, we just need to take the hint and hear what's being taught.
I've had an ongoing skin problem which is mildly unpleasant and in my opinion very unsightly. It's called Pityriasis Versi. I've had it off and on for years, it is recurring and I knwo the 'cure', which is a 2-3 week course of Nizoral tablets. However, I've not had insurance for years on end now and my former family doctor left his practice two years ago, so I've been diddling about on my own power. Last year the outbreak was very mild and I did eventually get a rx thru an ER doc without having to pay for a visit. I was hopeful that would happen this year too, but it hasn't.
I've gone to the altar twice and asked for healing and truly believed that would work as well. But no healing has been forthcoming. In fact, this year, the two times I've gone forward the condition has worsened! I was puzzled about this.
Enter Mike Murdoch and his sermon on Seed Harvest. I listened to his sermon for the fifth time yesterday morning, then went off to color my hair and as I did so I saw the discolored skin and prayed again, asking God this time why He hadn't healed me. "Because you don't trust me," I heard in my spirit.
"Lord! How can you say I don't trust you? I've received healing in the past, I've done all I was asked to do for healing this time. I do fully believe in your power to heal! How can you say I don't trust you?"
"Because you don't trust me to replace the money you'd spend on a doctor's visit. You believe more in the power of the money in your account than in sowing it to a doctor for the needed medication."
I was shocked. And began to weep. Because I knew immediately He was right. I didn't trust Him to replace the money once spent for a doctor visit and rx. I trusted Him to heal me, but I didn't trust His manifest power over my finances. And yet, I know too well that God will provide, He always provides and without fail, and in abundance.
How very often I do go without necessities because I fear once the money is spent, I won't be able to replace it. It isn't that we are wealthy and I am a miser. Nor are we poor and without any resources at all. We've been careful with our money because we have been poor and yet, I look about me in my home and see His provision and fulfillment of His promise to provide. My home is paid for in full, fifteen years earlier than planned, because of His provision. We are debt free (except for our heat pump and that is half paid off in under a year's time). There is no need we've had that hasn't been provided. And yet, when it comes to my health care, I tend to be poor minded, mistrustful.
I will be calling the doctor this week and making an appointment. I will be getting my rx for this skin condition and in future when I need to see a doctor (which is blessedly seldom!) I shall go see one. Not because I don't believe I could be healed without a doctor, but because I do trust in God's ability to provide that which I need.
A second revelation occurred later in the day. My husband and I share our accounts and funds. There is a small amount of money we each get per pay period that is considered our allowance and that money may be spent however we choose. But the money in savings, in the checking account is "Ours". However, I've had a real tendency to think of that money as his only when it comes to tithing. For some reason, on some level, I've disconnected from the "Ours" and considered the money we sow as his. But that isn't at all true! The money we sow as seeds into God's kingdom are just as much mine as they are his.
This is a second area of distrust that was revealed to me. If I had claimed ownership of the money in our accounts as I do of the house and cars we share, then I might have also gone on to the doctor. But I've had this mindset that I didn't have money to go, I had no account on which I could draw. Ridiculousness! Absolute ridiculousness! Never, not at any point, has my husband looked at me and said "Now, this has both our names on it but you know it's really my money, that I earned and you don't touch a single bit more than you need for groceries and gasoline." Never has he said that to me. But in my head, that is the way I dealt with that money. As though I had no right to use a portion of it for my own needs. For years now I've relied on birthday and Christmas gift monies from family and friends to purchase my clothing. If no gifts came, then I went without. Ditto with medical care.
Well it was a wonderfully revelatory day for me and I'm glad of it. Somehow, under all that busyness of the week I had opened up my spirit to discover a few strongholds and knocked them down. Praise God!
Today I shall be home. Normally I would attend church services, but we're down to one car at present and that car is with my husband at work. I want to spend time in a Sabbath mindset today and I can't think of a single better way than as I started this morning at dawn, listening to a symphony of birds twittering and chirping and calling, to a woodpecker knocking on a tree trunk, turkeys gobbling, rooster crowing and mourning doves boo-hoo-ing while cool damp air rose around me in soft mists painted a translucent gold by the rising sun.
This is not a day for housework as normal. It is a day to sit and reflect and read my Bible and listen to my favorite praise songs via YouTube and to spend time in the quiet morning air praying and listening. This is important. This time will set the tone for the week ahead. It will be the time that builds the necessary strength to go through the week ahead, the time that will open my heart and mind to hear more of the revelations I need to hear in order to grow and move ahead and create and breathe in the Inspired Life I long to manifest in my living.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Week 3 Day 1: What I Love Best
Starting my third week of trying to live an Inspired Life I thought I might just scrap it all. I was tired. Bored with me. Tied up with duty. Why bother?
Because I need to do this. I need to live the life I dream of having, or at least as close as I can come at present.
So I combined duty with necessity. Granny needed to get out of the house for a bit, Mama needed to get out, away from the cares of being a caregiver. She read the paper in the back seat, happy that Granny was satisfied to look out the window at the scenery. The skies were grey, we kept hitting little patches of rain or fog. And then suddenly the sun broke through between showers and the day looked differently to us all.
We got BBQ at a spot we'd discovered last autumn, before we'd all faced their age in terms of recovering from injuries. And then we drove to the next town to sit in the graveyard and have lunch.
Doesn't sound a bit romantic or inspired does it? But this graveyard, all main entrances but one sadly neglected, a little unkempt, a little bit hidden like a secret on the outskirts of town was romantic and intriguing and inspiring.
It was, first of all, just what I've said. A little hidden, a little bit secretive. We found our way to the only maintained entrance which was behind a business and through shrubs long overgrown and there we were in a a graveyard with magnificent monuments, crookedly outlined graves of tettering bricks, little areas sunken in that denoted a grave without a headstone or slab to grace it. It also had many old live oaks with dripping Spanish moss. I could just imagine how spooky that graveyard must seem at night, the trees so thick they'd succesfully block the lights of town from shining into the deep dark depths. And many of the graves were marked with dates of death that went back to the 1860's - 1910.
We rode slowly down the only drive that was clearly marked. We read off names, noted the numerous graves of infants and small children. And Granny, whose memory may be a little fuzzy about who I am (today I was her niece and she calls Mama simply 'Sister') bloomed, telling us of relatives whose names she could recall from the 1920's, pointing out the grave of a cousin who died at age 13, recalling stories about the families whose names were on some of the graves. It was amazing, really, to see how clearly she can recall these things. Many of the stories, Mama and I heard years ago, so we know they are truth.
We spent nearly two hours in that graveyard, driving slowly up and down rough little lanes and backing slowly and carefully in the tight quarters. Had Mama and Granny been able to get out and walk we'd have done that, but as it was we managed to see the majority of the oldest portion of the graveyard. When we found ourselves in a 'new' section where many of the deceased were buried in the 1940's and '50's we went on to drive around the town, relatively unchanged since my childhood, except that many stores are now empty, blankly staring at the street.
The sunshine broke out in fullness when we left town and headed home. We had the pleasure of seeing the sky turn blue, instead of the gray that had become tiresome over the past two weeks. And just as one last little bit of fun thrown in, I turned into a country lane at a stables where a handmade sign reads "FRESH EGGS $1/DOZ." There was a seed and feed store down that lane, with a screened in porch and picnic tables and a fat white hen and dirty speckled rooster sitting proudly on top of one of the tables, and horses neighing and whinnying at the women who came out to ask if they could help us.
We may well have more rain tomorrow, or even tonight, but for the afternoon we've had plenty of sunshine and a bit of family history and some darned good Southern BBQ. It's been a day of the things I love best.
Because I need to do this. I need to live the life I dream of having, or at least as close as I can come at present.
So I combined duty with necessity. Granny needed to get out of the house for a bit, Mama needed to get out, away from the cares of being a caregiver. She read the paper in the back seat, happy that Granny was satisfied to look out the window at the scenery. The skies were grey, we kept hitting little patches of rain or fog. And then suddenly the sun broke through between showers and the day looked differently to us all.
We got BBQ at a spot we'd discovered last autumn, before we'd all faced their age in terms of recovering from injuries. And then we drove to the next town to sit in the graveyard and have lunch.
Doesn't sound a bit romantic or inspired does it? But this graveyard, all main entrances but one sadly neglected, a little unkempt, a little bit hidden like a secret on the outskirts of town was romantic and intriguing and inspiring.
It was, first of all, just what I've said. A little hidden, a little bit secretive. We found our way to the only maintained entrance which was behind a business and through shrubs long overgrown and there we were in a a graveyard with magnificent monuments, crookedly outlined graves of tettering bricks, little areas sunken in that denoted a grave without a headstone or slab to grace it. It also had many old live oaks with dripping Spanish moss. I could just imagine how spooky that graveyard must seem at night, the trees so thick they'd succesfully block the lights of town from shining into the deep dark depths. And many of the graves were marked with dates of death that went back to the 1860's - 1910.
We rode slowly down the only drive that was clearly marked. We read off names, noted the numerous graves of infants and small children. And Granny, whose memory may be a little fuzzy about who I am (today I was her niece and she calls Mama simply 'Sister') bloomed, telling us of relatives whose names she could recall from the 1920's, pointing out the grave of a cousin who died at age 13, recalling stories about the families whose names were on some of the graves. It was amazing, really, to see how clearly she can recall these things. Many of the stories, Mama and I heard years ago, so we know they are truth.
We spent nearly two hours in that graveyard, driving slowly up and down rough little lanes and backing slowly and carefully in the tight quarters. Had Mama and Granny been able to get out and walk we'd have done that, but as it was we managed to see the majority of the oldest portion of the graveyard. When we found ourselves in a 'new' section where many of the deceased were buried in the 1940's and '50's we went on to drive around the town, relatively unchanged since my childhood, except that many stores are now empty, blankly staring at the street.
The sunshine broke out in fullness when we left town and headed home. We had the pleasure of seeing the sky turn blue, instead of the gray that had become tiresome over the past two weeks. And just as one last little bit of fun thrown in, I turned into a country lane at a stables where a handmade sign reads "FRESH EGGS $1/DOZ." There was a seed and feed store down that lane, with a screened in porch and picnic tables and a fat white hen and dirty speckled rooster sitting proudly on top of one of the tables, and horses neighing and whinnying at the women who came out to ask if they could help us.
We may well have more rain tomorrow, or even tonight, but for the afternoon we've had plenty of sunshine and a bit of family history and some darned good Southern BBQ. It's been a day of the things I love best.
Monday, May 25, 2009
I thought you'd like to see one of my projects this past week. I got the idea from an old ironing board lying in a ditch that I passed on my way home several times. Well I had on hand an ironing board we seldom used simply because storage issues necessitated putting it between our dryer and the wall of the laundry closet, and that meant wrangling and twisting and such to get it out once more.
The ironing board had long needed a new pad and cover, which I considered outrageously priced anyway. So the other day at Walmart I picked up a smaller tabletop ironing board which was fully padded and covered and would easily hang on a nail on the inside of the doorframe.
I brought out the old ironing board, tossed the cover and set it up on the porch. I couldn't believe how closely that blue matched our home's siding!
The birdhouses are freshly painted. They were formerly all white and after two years on the front porch were mildewed and dusty and about to hit the trash when inspiration struck. Using the paint I had on hand (hence the red/white/blue theme) I painted the old birdhouses. Then I spent a whole $6 on plants for the two teapots (the cactus has been in my home for years now).
I also pulled the old window frame off the wall of the living room where it's done duty as a bulletin board of sorts for years and painted it red (still need to get more red paint to finish that project off). With the red chairs already on the porch, it's all turned out pretty well in my opinion and looks cute as can be.
I have a few more ideas running around in my brain for decorating that window frame, adding to the porch and decorating the steps that lead up to the porch...
Week 2 Day 6: Boundaries and Flights of Fancy
Did you think I'd disappeared totally, given up yet again on my quest to complete a 70 week Inspired Journey of living? No, not quite. After our lovely Sunday drive, I came home to collaspe with the Sunday paper, my favorite Sunday evening thing to do. It's the only day of the week when I actively sit down and read the news, or pay attention to it. Once a week is entirely enough in my world. More than that and I sink into a sea of Despond, overwhelmed by the anxiety and angst I find in daily newscasts.
I also, unintentionally set a boundary, when a family member assumed I'd be doing something I hadn't planned to do. I'm afraid, as K says, I burst his bubble, ripped his kite from the sky. And I did the same again on Monday when I was taking Granny and Mama to visit Granny's GP. I'm glad I went along on that trip as his office is without a doubt the most unfriendly handicap accessible place, which involves not only a steep ramp but the first leg of the ramp ends at a narrow landing before a steep set of steps on the opposite end, and then you must make a Uturn to the second leg of the ramp and a 90degree turn to get into the door. It pretty much sucks and would have been impossible for Mama to negotiate with her limited strength.
However, all that aside, I did discover that a second doctor's visit was in the offing on Wednesday, and I did not volunteer to take them to that office. I actually stopped and considered the doctor's office (near the outskirts of a busy area, but in a quiet street) and at ground level (easily accessible for even wheelchair and walker bound patients). Not offering to go along, even though I wasn't asked was a major step for me. I have a tendency to tie up my time with guilt trips, and truth be told, I pretty much wasted Wednesday alternately feeling guilty and feeling rebellious. Waste of time, but I did accomplish a few other things in between trips so not a total loss and as these things go, all was well and went better than planned for Mama and Granny, which should teach me how futile wasting that time truly is.
I'm learning to set my boundaries and respect them. I knew full well that I'd have mightily resented giving up that time and would also have pushed myself beyond my limits. Sometimes, the worst disrespector of our time is ourselves.
I pretty much lost the major portion of week 2 between being overtired and a schedule full of duty roles to play. Change of life is more wearing than you might imagine and I hit one of my brick wall moments this past week. I've learned to respect my body's limits as well. Rest was called for and rest was what I did my best to give. Less strenuous activities and a few more naps here and there. It worked out beautifully and I've come out this side of Week 2 feeling energetic and creative once more.
I've decided to go off on a couple weeks Flights of Fancy. That's when I drop my usual writing routine and allow myself the freedom to devote a full span of time to purely fun/creative pursuits. I've an idea for a flower border that I'm longing to get to work on, but rain may well offset the possibility of doing that. And I've another idea for reclaiming my front porch from the pet's home base and making it a summer room, using ingredients I have on hand, and there are a couple of craft projects I much want to finish off that are only half done. And there's a short road trip or two to pursue and a bit of shopping that will allow me time and space to really look for inspiration...I can hardly wait to get started. I'll try to remember to take the camera along on some of these home flights.
In the meantime, I suspect a nap would hit the spot!
I also, unintentionally set a boundary, when a family member assumed I'd be doing something I hadn't planned to do. I'm afraid, as K says, I burst his bubble, ripped his kite from the sky. And I did the same again on Monday when I was taking Granny and Mama to visit Granny's GP. I'm glad I went along on that trip as his office is without a doubt the most unfriendly handicap accessible place, which involves not only a steep ramp but the first leg of the ramp ends at a narrow landing before a steep set of steps on the opposite end, and then you must make a Uturn to the second leg of the ramp and a 90degree turn to get into the door. It pretty much sucks and would have been impossible for Mama to negotiate with her limited strength.
However, all that aside, I did discover that a second doctor's visit was in the offing on Wednesday, and I did not volunteer to take them to that office. I actually stopped and considered the doctor's office (near the outskirts of a busy area, but in a quiet street) and at ground level (easily accessible for even wheelchair and walker bound patients). Not offering to go along, even though I wasn't asked was a major step for me. I have a tendency to tie up my time with guilt trips, and truth be told, I pretty much wasted Wednesday alternately feeling guilty and feeling rebellious. Waste of time, but I did accomplish a few other things in between trips so not a total loss and as these things go, all was well and went better than planned for Mama and Granny, which should teach me how futile wasting that time truly is.
I'm learning to set my boundaries and respect them. I knew full well that I'd have mightily resented giving up that time and would also have pushed myself beyond my limits. Sometimes, the worst disrespector of our time is ourselves.
I pretty much lost the major portion of week 2 between being overtired and a schedule full of duty roles to play. Change of life is more wearing than you might imagine and I hit one of my brick wall moments this past week. I've learned to respect my body's limits as well. Rest was called for and rest was what I did my best to give. Less strenuous activities and a few more naps here and there. It worked out beautifully and I've come out this side of Week 2 feeling energetic and creative once more.
I've decided to go off on a couple weeks Flights of Fancy. That's when I drop my usual writing routine and allow myself the freedom to devote a full span of time to purely fun/creative pursuits. I've an idea for a flower border that I'm longing to get to work on, but rain may well offset the possibility of doing that. And I've another idea for reclaiming my front porch from the pet's home base and making it a summer room, using ingredients I have on hand, and there are a couple of craft projects I much want to finish off that are only half done. And there's a short road trip or two to pursue and a bit of shopping that will allow me time and space to really look for inspiration...I can hardly wait to get started. I'll try to remember to take the camera along on some of these home flights.
In the meantime, I suspect a nap would hit the spot!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Wandering Dew
Last night, I found the original journal entry for my first start at a 70 week Journey into being all I might be. April 13, 2008 was my starting date and I actually made it through about 12 weeks before hard things intervened and I gave up. My source of inspiration was a prophecy in the book of Daniel.
One of the things I'd mentioned at that time in my journal was the desire to travel just 70 minutes in many different directions from home, on 'day journeys', just to see what surrounds me. There are all sorts of Colonial settlements in that driving frame and historical sites and oh my goodness, antique and junk shops...Just the sort of thing that would please me no end, and incidentally I'd have the opportunity to visit some former small towns that no longer exist, which happen to be listed on a comprehensive state atlas I possess. History thrills me, no matter how homey the history may be, or how small the evidence remaining. It's all 'scope for the imagination."
I wrote "Wandering" on my Inspired list last night. So even though I wasn't feeling well today on our way home, when my daughter casually asked me "I wonder where that road leads?" I took off down it. I knew more or less where we'd end up. What I didn't know was what was we'd spend the next 70 minutes wandering around various little back roads, all paved and in good repair thank goodness, finding our way home again. It was just the sort of Inspired thing I needed to make my day.
I found a few picture perfect rural spots of fields and old farmhouses and country churches along the ways we travelled today. I'll try to keep my camera and a full load of batteries with me for future jaunts. I want to record my journeys.
In order to keep my daughter happily going to church, my husband and I discussed letting her choose her own place of worship. The church she chose meets the same time as ours. Our solution was that I would carry her to that church on the opposing Sunday when he's working, and we'd attend our church as a family on his weekends off (every other week). K has chosen to attend a certain denomination that I find a little constricting. They have the most awesome worship team who lead in contemporary songs, really spirit filled songs...And a congregation that stands at attention simply staring at the team, never raising a hand, never really acting as though they know what to do.
Honestly, it was hard for me to just sit still today when we attended. I'd been listening to Kari Jobe before leaving home, I'd been reading about my spirit journey that took place last Spring and the extraordinary things we'd experienced earlier in the morning, praying heavily all week long and was filled with Spirit. The songs in the praise service were just an added dimension of that for me, and I sort of felt like I was all on my own out there having this terrific experience, while every one around me seemed...bored.
What saved the service for me: the pastor is an inspired speaker, sound in Bible doctrine. His topic the past few weeks has been Ordinary People/Extraordinary Characters, all about how God takes the ordinary every day people in the Bible and uses them to make extraordinary things happen, how he uses the imperfect to correct and confound the wise. Today's sermon was about Gideon, a might warrior of God...who was hiding when God called him.
Well I'm off to pursue my quieter activities of Crossword puzzle and reading. I've a busy few days ahead of me, and somewhere amongst the heavy duty roster, I want to squeeze in a few more moments of Inspiration Living.
One of the things I'd mentioned at that time in my journal was the desire to travel just 70 minutes in many different directions from home, on 'day journeys', just to see what surrounds me. There are all sorts of Colonial settlements in that driving frame and historical sites and oh my goodness, antique and junk shops...Just the sort of thing that would please me no end, and incidentally I'd have the opportunity to visit some former small towns that no longer exist, which happen to be listed on a comprehensive state atlas I possess. History thrills me, no matter how homey the history may be, or how small the evidence remaining. It's all 'scope for the imagination."
I wrote "Wandering" on my Inspired list last night. So even though I wasn't feeling well today on our way home, when my daughter casually asked me "I wonder where that road leads?" I took off down it. I knew more or less where we'd end up. What I didn't know was what was we'd spend the next 70 minutes wandering around various little back roads, all paved and in good repair thank goodness, finding our way home again. It was just the sort of Inspired thing I needed to make my day.
I found a few picture perfect rural spots of fields and old farmhouses and country churches along the ways we travelled today. I'll try to keep my camera and a full load of batteries with me for future jaunts. I want to record my journeys.
In order to keep my daughter happily going to church, my husband and I discussed letting her choose her own place of worship. The church she chose meets the same time as ours. Our solution was that I would carry her to that church on the opposing Sunday when he's working, and we'd attend our church as a family on his weekends off (every other week). K has chosen to attend a certain denomination that I find a little constricting. They have the most awesome worship team who lead in contemporary songs, really spirit filled songs...And a congregation that stands at attention simply staring at the team, never raising a hand, never really acting as though they know what to do.
Honestly, it was hard for me to just sit still today when we attended. I'd been listening to Kari Jobe before leaving home, I'd been reading about my spirit journey that took place last Spring and the extraordinary things we'd experienced earlier in the morning, praying heavily all week long and was filled with Spirit. The songs in the praise service were just an added dimension of that for me, and I sort of felt like I was all on my own out there having this terrific experience, while every one around me seemed...bored.
What saved the service for me: the pastor is an inspired speaker, sound in Bible doctrine. His topic the past few weeks has been Ordinary People/Extraordinary Characters, all about how God takes the ordinary every day people in the Bible and uses them to make extraordinary things happen, how he uses the imperfect to correct and confound the wise. Today's sermon was about Gideon, a might warrior of God...who was hiding when God called him.
Well I'm off to pursue my quieter activities of Crossword puzzle and reading. I've a busy few days ahead of me, and somewhere amongst the heavy duty roster, I want to squeeze in a few more moments of Inspiration Living.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Day 4: What I might have been
This morning, as I stood at the kitchen sink loading dishes into the dishwasher, I half listened to K's tv program, Made. Today's theme has apparently been Prom Queen/King day. The girl on this particular episode was saying, "I want to look back and see that I did something I dreamed of doing."
Naturally my own mind skimmed back over the last 32 years to my own 18th year of life and I looked dispassionately at the girl I had been and the dreams I'd held dear. Not quite the life I'd planned, because let's face it, even if our dreams are as simple as being a wife, mother, homemaker and writer, one hardly dreams of endless loads of dishes and laundry, sleepless nights with crying babes in arm, quarrels with hubby, estranged children, or hanging on tooth and nail to writing via blogs and wondering if we haven't made it by 50 will we ever? Nope, that's not in an 18year old's thoughts.
And while I've been incredibly lucky to achieve happiness in my life at last, I also realized that it was too late to be what I might have been when I was 18. Lest you think I am feeling bluesy you'd be entirely wrong. For right on the heels of that last thought came the realization that it's not to late to be what I still might. It's just a matter of grabbing at opportunities and taking them, continuing to dream and reach, something I'm a little better prepared to do than I was at 18, being many years wiser, stronger and more firmly grounded.
Today I continued to work on that one portion of my porch. The birdhouses are all painted, the window frame is half painted. I am now out of paints of any sort other than silver and black. For the moment I'm done with it, until I can get around to picking up a few more plants, a can or two or three of paint and/or the mood strikes to do some sewing.
The duty work I'd meant to do using online resources was preempted by heavy lightning and then the popping on and off again of the electricity. So I retreated to my bedroom with the laptop, and lacking a wireless connection, popped in a DVD and watched a movie, nice and relaxing way to spend an afternoon after a fairly busy morning.
Well, I guess I'd better tend to duty now that the weather is more amendable to my internet connection. It's just another day in my Inspired Life.
Naturally my own mind skimmed back over the last 32 years to my own 18th year of life and I looked dispassionately at the girl I had been and the dreams I'd held dear. Not quite the life I'd planned, because let's face it, even if our dreams are as simple as being a wife, mother, homemaker and writer, one hardly dreams of endless loads of dishes and laundry, sleepless nights with crying babes in arm, quarrels with hubby, estranged children, or hanging on tooth and nail to writing via blogs and wondering if we haven't made it by 50 will we ever? Nope, that's not in an 18year old's thoughts.
And while I've been incredibly lucky to achieve happiness in my life at last, I also realized that it was too late to be what I might have been when I was 18. Lest you think I am feeling bluesy you'd be entirely wrong. For right on the heels of that last thought came the realization that it's not to late to be what I still might. It's just a matter of grabbing at opportunities and taking them, continuing to dream and reach, something I'm a little better prepared to do than I was at 18, being many years wiser, stronger and more firmly grounded.
Today I continued to work on that one portion of my porch. The birdhouses are all painted, the window frame is half painted. I am now out of paints of any sort other than silver and black. For the moment I'm done with it, until I can get around to picking up a few more plants, a can or two or three of paint and/or the mood strikes to do some sewing.
The duty work I'd meant to do using online resources was preempted by heavy lightning and then the popping on and off again of the electricity. So I retreated to my bedroom with the laptop, and lacking a wireless connection, popped in a DVD and watched a movie, nice and relaxing way to spend an afternoon after a fairly busy morning.
Well, I guess I'd better tend to duty now that the weather is more amendable to my internet connection. It's just another day in my Inspired Life.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Just for Me - Day 3
This morning, as I sat thinking about my to-do list and my inspired list, I was also coincidentally allowing my alter ego PennyAnnPoundwise to write a blog post over on xanga.
I couldn't make up my mind if I wanted to go into town or not. If I did go into town at what time? I really wanted to watch three programs that come on back to back mid-morning. I won't get to see them again for days and days, maybe even another 8 days! My window of opportunity to see these programs is small as I am at the mercy of schedules and such most days. Today was a rare free day. Watch tv? Go to town? Miss programs or wait? Stay in town to shop or go out of town? How far out of town? Next town over, two towns over, three towns over? What to do?
While I was letting my left brain argue on and on, my right brain Penny was hard at work and had just reached the end of the post when my computer protection program pops up with one of those "Oh My Gosh! " messages stating that a program was a problem and did I want to remove it from my computer? Well of course, I did! I mean, why am I paying for the stupid program if I'm going to allow viruses and worms and ad-ware and such to run willynilly through my computer causing it to disintegrate even faster than the manufacturer had hoped it might? So I hit the "yes" button never once dreaming that for some unknown reason the program it wanted to stop was my blog. So it shut down the window and I hadn't even had time to hit the send button! An hour's worth of work gone, phhhhttt! Just like that. Into the never to be posted black cyber hole.
The thought of starting all over again made me want to cry. And after glancing up at the clock I realized that if I stayed home, I would not be watching the favored tv programs at all...No, duty would demand that I stick right here at the computer recreating that post, regretting the loss of all opportunities to do as I must and wanted. And if I was going to miss the short time allowed me to do the errands and then watch the movie I'd planned then I was going to be unhappy. As tears welled up in my eyes, I knew immediately that I was going to go into town and then beyond town. I was going to do the errands, but first, I was going to take the advice of a slightly older woman who once told me "Women should always do something they want to do every day."
I wanted to go plunder through goodies. I wanted to hunt for treasure. I needed a thrift store fix. First I dressed myself up nicely and put on makeup and checked my reflection, because I need to take time to make me feel good about how I look on the outside. I went into town where the aforesaid slightly older woman stood behind the counter at the thrift store and proceeded to hunt, slowly and methodically, shelf by shelf, until I found every hidden treasure that was meant to be mine.
I'm too tired this afternoon to bother with the strain of trying to load photos, but I'll tell you what I found:
1 small, old Currier and Ives print in a white frame, perfect for my bedroom wall where I've started a grouping of old light colored framed pieces of art from the 1930s/40s. This particular print is called At The River.
1 large picture of a young David, sitting on a hillside writing a song, while his sheep graze on the plain below him. That picture is for my Christian songwriting husband to go on another wall of the bedroom, one where we have a couple of pieces of Christian artwork.
l medium sized print of small blue birds with yellow chests. I have no idea where I'll put it, but I do collect bluebirds so I guess that's why it spoke to me.
2 sage green ceramic planters, just big enough for a small pot of ivy.
4 sort of sage-olive green and cream saucers, perfect for the stinking narrow galley rail above my stove that will hold nothing but saucers.
A pair of milk glass salt and pepper shakers...or I thought they were glass. I'm beginning to think it's more like a high density plastic since handling them in dishwasher.
1 1963 copy of Hints from Heloise.
Yes, I was very satisfied and my wallet didn't feel the strain because my husband, in great wisdom, suggested a month ago that if I must spend money couldn't I at least start my own little fund in the checking account that is earmarked for shopping? I followed his advice and had two deposits worth of money in the special fund.
Then I took off to go to Walmart. Because I'd done something for myself, I was ready to do just a tiny bit more for me, and a little something for the husband and the family. At Walmart I got two small Ivy, one small wave petunia and a small tabletop ironing board. Now that might seem an odd object to say I bought for myself, given my history of disliking ironing mightily, but you'll see why in a few moments. And I bought myself two new bras because a woman my age always needs a good bra if she's to look at least as young as she is!
I felt I'd spent quite enough on me at that point, so I looked up a special object my husband had gently hinted he'd love to own: a plastic sandwich box that looks like a Wonder Bread wrapper. No kidding, the man loves things that make him nostalgic for his childhood and he saw a nurse with one of those yesterday and he really wanted one, I could hear it in his voice as he told me of it, though he never said "Let's see if we can find one, " because he just doesn't do that. Just to let you know I didn't imagine things, he called while I was in Walmart and asked "Where are you and what are you doing?" and I said "In Walmart looking for a Wonder Bread sandwich box." His reply, "Really? For me?", pretty much said it all.
I picked up the necessary groceries including sweet treats for my daughter then left Walmart and pondered lunchtime options. Thinking over the numerous restaurants in the area I asked myself what did I really really want? I gave myself permission to have whatever I really wanted. This is something I forget to do too often. You might think this would be dangerously expensiveor high calorie, but often it's not. And I am always satisfied with what I eat when I remember to do this. It's those times when I don't do it that I end up eating something that leaves me dissatisfied and grazing all afternoon long that gets expensive and weighty.
What I really wanted today: a good burger and a frozen coke. Done deal. Had both at Burger King and went on my way. It was so hot and miserable outdoors that I also decided I really wanted a small ice cream cone. So I stopped in the next town and got a cone and ate it on the way home.
Totally satisfied. Didn't want a single bite of anything, no snacks, nothing, until supper time tonight. I felt I'd chosen well. I had lettuce, tomato and onion on my burger, no fries or any of the other fatty sides. A small cone, which is Weight Watcher acceptable as a dessert. Supper tonight a big bowl of tossed salad with chunks of roast beef as the protein. 1/2 cup pineapple chunks. And a good cup of coffee as a chaser.
Now back to the mid-afternoon when I arrived back home. I went to work on that front porch again. The old big ironing board is now on the front porch, holding a variety of red, white and blue birdhouses, two teapots: one filled with an ivy plant, the other with a double purple Wave petunia, a large holiday cactus (mine blooms for all important holidays so I can't call it a Christmas cactus, it will even bloom for July 4th). The birdhouses ended up red, white and blue because I simply couldn't find the right color turquoise or green or yellow. And the cans of spray paint were far more expensive than I'd thought they would be (el cheapo paint comes only in black and white). So I used what I had on hand here at home and that ended up being RWB. That corner is beginning to shape up into the front porch I'd dreamed of and it came together fairly quickly. I'm not finished but it's awfully nice to know I've started.
And of course, the xanga post got written all over again, housework got finished up, groceries had been bought, so the day wasn't a waste after all. As for those tv programs I really think I need to look into recording them with that lovely old VCR that works just fine, thank you. Then I can watch them when the time suits me, rather than working my life around the tv schedule.
Overall, I'm very satisfied with my day of Inspiration. Fair warning, it may be Wednesday before I can post again, but I'll take notes so you can keep up with this journey of 70 weeks duration of Living An Inspired Life.
I couldn't make up my mind if I wanted to go into town or not. If I did go into town at what time? I really wanted to watch three programs that come on back to back mid-morning. I won't get to see them again for days and days, maybe even another 8 days! My window of opportunity to see these programs is small as I am at the mercy of schedules and such most days. Today was a rare free day. Watch tv? Go to town? Miss programs or wait? Stay in town to shop or go out of town? How far out of town? Next town over, two towns over, three towns over? What to do?
While I was letting my left brain argue on and on, my right brain Penny was hard at work and had just reached the end of the post when my computer protection program pops up with one of those "Oh My Gosh! " messages stating that a program was a problem and did I want to remove it from my computer? Well of course, I did! I mean, why am I paying for the stupid program if I'm going to allow viruses and worms and ad-ware and such to run willynilly through my computer causing it to disintegrate even faster than the manufacturer had hoped it might? So I hit the "yes" button never once dreaming that for some unknown reason the program it wanted to stop was my blog. So it shut down the window and I hadn't even had time to hit the send button! An hour's worth of work gone, phhhhttt! Just like that. Into the never to be posted black cyber hole.
The thought of starting all over again made me want to cry. And after glancing up at the clock I realized that if I stayed home, I would not be watching the favored tv programs at all...No, duty would demand that I stick right here at the computer recreating that post, regretting the loss of all opportunities to do as I must and wanted. And if I was going to miss the short time allowed me to do the errands and then watch the movie I'd planned then I was going to be unhappy. As tears welled up in my eyes, I knew immediately that I was going to go into town and then beyond town. I was going to do the errands, but first, I was going to take the advice of a slightly older woman who once told me "Women should always do something they want to do every day."
I wanted to go plunder through goodies. I wanted to hunt for treasure. I needed a thrift store fix. First I dressed myself up nicely and put on makeup and checked my reflection, because I need to take time to make me feel good about how I look on the outside. I went into town where the aforesaid slightly older woman stood behind the counter at the thrift store and proceeded to hunt, slowly and methodically, shelf by shelf, until I found every hidden treasure that was meant to be mine.
I'm too tired this afternoon to bother with the strain of trying to load photos, but I'll tell you what I found:
1 small, old Currier and Ives print in a white frame, perfect for my bedroom wall where I've started a grouping of old light colored framed pieces of art from the 1930s/40s. This particular print is called At The River.
1 large picture of a young David, sitting on a hillside writing a song, while his sheep graze on the plain below him. That picture is for my Christian songwriting husband to go on another wall of the bedroom, one where we have a couple of pieces of Christian artwork.
l medium sized print of small blue birds with yellow chests. I have no idea where I'll put it, but I do collect bluebirds so I guess that's why it spoke to me.
2 sage green ceramic planters, just big enough for a small pot of ivy.
4 sort of sage-olive green and cream saucers, perfect for the stinking narrow galley rail above my stove that will hold nothing but saucers.
A pair of milk glass salt and pepper shakers...or I thought they were glass. I'm beginning to think it's more like a high density plastic since handling them in dishwasher.
1 1963 copy of Hints from Heloise.
Yes, I was very satisfied and my wallet didn't feel the strain because my husband, in great wisdom, suggested a month ago that if I must spend money couldn't I at least start my own little fund in the checking account that is earmarked for shopping? I followed his advice and had two deposits worth of money in the special fund.
Then I took off to go to Walmart. Because I'd done something for myself, I was ready to do just a tiny bit more for me, and a little something for the husband and the family. At Walmart I got two small Ivy, one small wave petunia and a small tabletop ironing board. Now that might seem an odd object to say I bought for myself, given my history of disliking ironing mightily, but you'll see why in a few moments. And I bought myself two new bras because a woman my age always needs a good bra if she's to look at least as young as she is!
I felt I'd spent quite enough on me at that point, so I looked up a special object my husband had gently hinted he'd love to own: a plastic sandwich box that looks like a Wonder Bread wrapper. No kidding, the man loves things that make him nostalgic for his childhood and he saw a nurse with one of those yesterday and he really wanted one, I could hear it in his voice as he told me of it, though he never said "Let's see if we can find one, " because he just doesn't do that. Just to let you know I didn't imagine things, he called while I was in Walmart and asked "Where are you and what are you doing?" and I said "In Walmart looking for a Wonder Bread sandwich box." His reply, "Really? For me?", pretty much said it all.
I picked up the necessary groceries including sweet treats for my daughter then left Walmart and pondered lunchtime options. Thinking over the numerous restaurants in the area I asked myself what did I really really want? I gave myself permission to have whatever I really wanted. This is something I forget to do too often. You might think this would be dangerously expensiveor high calorie, but often it's not. And I am always satisfied with what I eat when I remember to do this. It's those times when I don't do it that I end up eating something that leaves me dissatisfied and grazing all afternoon long that gets expensive and weighty.
What I really wanted today: a good burger and a frozen coke. Done deal. Had both at Burger King and went on my way. It was so hot and miserable outdoors that I also decided I really wanted a small ice cream cone. So I stopped in the next town and got a cone and ate it on the way home.
Totally satisfied. Didn't want a single bite of anything, no snacks, nothing, until supper time tonight. I felt I'd chosen well. I had lettuce, tomato and onion on my burger, no fries or any of the other fatty sides. A small cone, which is Weight Watcher acceptable as a dessert. Supper tonight a big bowl of tossed salad with chunks of roast beef as the protein. 1/2 cup pineapple chunks. And a good cup of coffee as a chaser.
Now back to the mid-afternoon when I arrived back home. I went to work on that front porch again. The old big ironing board is now on the front porch, holding a variety of red, white and blue birdhouses, two teapots: one filled with an ivy plant, the other with a double purple Wave petunia, a large holiday cactus (mine blooms for all important holidays so I can't call it a Christmas cactus, it will even bloom for July 4th). The birdhouses ended up red, white and blue because I simply couldn't find the right color turquoise or green or yellow. And the cans of spray paint were far more expensive than I'd thought they would be (el cheapo paint comes only in black and white). So I used what I had on hand here at home and that ended up being RWB. That corner is beginning to shape up into the front porch I'd dreamed of and it came together fairly quickly. I'm not finished but it's awfully nice to know I've started.
And of course, the xanga post got written all over again, housework got finished up, groceries had been bought, so the day wasn't a waste after all. As for those tv programs I really think I need to look into recording them with that lovely old VCR that works just fine, thank you. Then I can watch them when the time suits me, rather than working my life around the tv schedule.
Overall, I'm very satisfied with my day of Inspiration. Fair warning, it may be Wednesday before I can post again, but I'll take notes so you can keep up with this journey of 70 weeks duration of Living An Inspired Life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)