Wednesday, August 19, 2009

a little bit o' this and a little bit o' that.

**Thankful for a flood of three out-of-town jobs this week after a bit of a work drought.

**Lovin' it that these beauties live right across the road from us and come running to the fence if you approach with an apple or carrot.


**Reading Why You Do The Things You Do, by Drs. Clinton and Sibcy, and learning a lot about my relationship style.

**Watching the flowers bloom that we planted earlier this summer.



**Searching for salsa recipes as we're about to be bombarded with a tomato harvest.

**Discovering new ways to eat cucumbers.


**SO looking forward to Cate, Joel, and Eavan (nieces and nephew) coming on Monday!

**Invited by friends to the PGA Championship, where we were within arms length of athletes like Vijay Singh, Phil Mickelson, and Padraig Harrington (AND I got Lee Westwood's autograph--my bright pink shirt ploy worked!).


(Had to give my right arm for this burger, but of course they wouldn't let you bring food in.)

Friday, August 14, 2009

king-size retreat.

I asked him would he build us a bed, a big one, where we could dream and love and where we could stretch in our sleep without our limbs hanging off. And we would fill it with pillows and sateen and comfort. And put nothing else in the room except for it, and two large windows that let in the morning sun. And it would be a haven where stress would vanish and the TV wouldn't buzz, only the ceiling fan as it softly spun and soothed, and the world would stay out.

I asked him would he build us a bed, a big one, shiny and dark and majestic. And he, eager to please and to work with his hands, said that he would if I wanted it. And it is beautiful. And I am the luckiest girl in the world, not because of the bed, but because of him.

Monday, August 10, 2009

changes.


I have a new computer, a new web cam. And I have bangs now, and a ponytail, although only a stubble of one. And the garage is slowly getting organized, and the attic cleaned out. And things are quieter now, where the calendar used to be more ink than white. I have learned to say no. And yes.

I am sorry, for expecting too much of Manly, and others too. And I am thirsty for books and words, and for The Word. I am learning. How to garden and how to adopt and how to be comfortable in my skin. And how to feel more deeply, and not to push the feelings aside like a second helping. I am submitting. And I am questioning things I have believed to be true my whole life and, finally, I am not scared to do it, only scared to get it right, because I know everything depends on it.

Monday, August 3, 2009

hot wheels


Uncle Dean and Aunt Janice (on Winn's side of the family) phoned us one evening last week to say they were in town and would we like to drop by their campsite. We chatted around their fire pit until after ten, when the park ranger told us that visiting hours were over. They stopped on their way out of town the next morning for coffee and homemade cinnamon scones. The next stop on their week-long summer drive through the countryside would be the banks of the Mississippi River, which they would follow south for the remainder of their trip.

Dean was as proud as can be of his "Airstream camper, hot rod pickup, and wild woman." His 1970 truck was shining, and yet he still pulled a rag out of the cab to polish it up before I was allowed to take a picture. We decided that his "wild woman" should sprawl herself across the hood for our little photo shoot. (This caused Dean some anxiety, but he needn't have worried because dainty lil' Janice didn't leave a single scuff mark.)

And let me tell you, that 1968 house on wheels was something else! I'm not generally into RVs, but I almost wanted to buy an Airstream for myself after receiving a tour of the deliciously retro inside, complete with a davenport, bathtub, and (Janice's favorite) a swing-out makeup mirror with built-in lighting. A magazine rack, throw pillows, and Grandma Johnson's photo on display were just a few of the added touches of home.











Listen to that engine roar...