One guilty party....

And I wondered why my house is always a mess......

even when most of my kids are gone!

There is something in there.

Can I smell it?

It is still there!

If I could just get it....

Man!  If I only had a thumb!

and......the mess left behind.

Blue Hair vs. blue hair

Since I started my Facebook Page, I have been asked......why blue hair?

There have always been two ideas behind the blue hair concept.  I always wanted to have my hair dyed blue…..Cookie Monster blue to be exact.  I think it came from my time living in Europe.  It was accepted.  Colored hair.  Any color of the rainbow….maybe all colors of the rainbow.  I was an artist.  I was a free spirit!  However......

I tucked that little piece of rebellion inside when I got married, to be a wife……the wife of an officer.  I had rules to follow.  Expectations to meet.

That might be where I crossed over...

...into the old lady type of Blue Hair.

All the Coffees, brunches, receptions, Teas, card parties……fundraising, committees, boards….old lady stuff.

And now……I miss it. 

I work…..only part time, but still, I work.

I have lost time…..time to bake, time to plan, time to sew, time to make art of my own.

I have been struggling over the past month to find time….time for me…time for my craft.  I try to steal time here and there, but things get in the way.  The lawn, the checkbook, the weeding, maintenance of everything, swabbing the deck, nails in tires, dealing with insurance, parent/teacher conference……

I long to be the Blue Hair once again……

read the small print

Really?

Okay....we are nearing the middle of September and my luck is not doing great.....please God, I really need to catch a break about now.

I decided I needed to stay home and catch up on some of the chores I have been meaning to do for a very loooooooong time.

Today was going to be a glass washing day.
My light fixtures through out the house have a haze.
Yep.....we are gonna wash.

I finally got my kitchen chandelier apart.....
.....started to wash the glass and.....


WHAT?

The paint washed off......the PAINT!

looking at the photo, I can see it is painted....
I guess I should have taken a picture first?

I picked the glass for the beautiful Tuscan feel to it.
The warm ambiance cast by the lovely yellow in the glass.......

I called the company where I purchase the light fixture six years ago.  After looking up the information, the fine print reads, "glass is texturized with color"........"do not wash."


Why in the world would you sell a chandelier for a kitchen with glass that you cannot wash? The sales person did not know, but told me they don't order much from this company anymore....hmmm, that is a no brainer!

My option?  New replacements in the same glass run $40 each. And who in the world has $120 for glass in this economy??  And again.....why would I replace the glass with the same thing that I cannot wash??


My tears removed the remainder of the yellow paint...
....and I rehung the glass.....

.....so for now....I have frosted glass on my chandelier.  The incandescent bulbs, I can still buy, for now, give it a warm glow while on, but with no light....they are white.


Do I dare wash the next light fixture????

Successful Parenting

I had a long talk last evening with Man Child....

after our talk, I realized...

Yes!  I am succeeding in this impossible job called Parenting!

Tall Man and I started our "Parenting" career with Peanut.  She was a quiet child.  Our little experiment.  I am sure we would not have won any rewards for Parent of the Year if people knew how much fun we really had!

Like that time.....in the formative years....
.....when we picked her up we would say, "Do you want down?"
.....when we put her down, "Do you want up?"
.....horses were cows....and...cows were horses.

So picture our trip to the petting farm at the zoo...

Our little bundle of joy, pointing at the cows saying, "Look at the pretty horses!"  And when someone would try to correct her, that they were truly cows....in her frustration, would turn to Tall Man, with arms stretched skyward, "Daddy, pick me down."

Yeah, yeah, yeah....it took us about six months of everything being "uppy-down"  to get that straightened out.  But to this day our family still calls horses ... cows and cows ... horses.

As each of the kids grew, we were very strict parents.  Maybe part of it was the continuous moving.  I really never had time to get to know families and their children well enough to earn the trust most families have, living in one place their entire married life.  For example, I didn't particularly like the kids going to sleep overs.....the parents could be mass murderers for all I knew!

I am drifting here.....

My point is, in my conversation with Man Child last evening, I had that realization of success.

I have heard the same comments over the years from
all three of my children:

1. You are much harder on me than you ever were on_________.
2. Why can't I just be a normal child!
3. Why did _________ get that!  I never was allowed to get that.
4. You would never have bought that for me, why does_________ get one?

My answers have always generally been, "Because this is just the way it is!" but I do have real answers:

1. I have the same rules for each of you, it is just the trauma of your childhood that makes you remember it differently.  Therapy will help when you get older.
2. You are not allowed to be normal.....you are extraordinary children that are each meant for great things!  Therapy will help you understand this some day.
3. You didn't get that because it wasn't invented yet.  The therapist will help you understand it is your father's fault.
4. The only reason they got that was because your uncle bought it.  I would never spend my money on something like that.  (Thanks Brother of Mine!)

Yep...I feel some success this morning!

My chickens.....still alive after all these years.
We must have done something right!

I am positive I will be knocked off this pedestal by this afternoon though....

Special

I want to be special.
I want to be like other special people.
I want to do what special people get to do.

Things special people get to do:

1.   Park the wrong way on the road.
2.   Park right in front of a store, in a fire zone.
3.   Drive 95 mph in a 65 mph zone.
4.   Make u-turns anyplace I want to.
5.   Turn left from the far right lane.
6.   Text while driving.

I am not special in any of these ways.

I parked the wrong way once.....in England.
I parked right in front of a store once....in the diagonal spots.
I drove 104 mph once....I was really lucky!
I have made u-turns....oops, they were Michigan lefts.
I turned left from the right lane....onto a one way street.

I have not attempted the texting thing.....I am not that crazy!  I have a hard enough time paying attention to my driving and all the other special people.  Why would I even think to attempt texting??

Watch out and be safe....
there are more special people on the roads all the time!
And I mean no offense at all to any of you who might be special.
I really do wish I could be just....like....you....

Storms

Storms outside.....storms in my head.

Why do I let little things get to me?
An idea...
      A thought.....
             A worry......

There it is.....and it won't go away.

So I toss and turn to go to sleep.

My stomach.....

I wake up too early.

So this morning, I woke at 4.

A storm...sounds like hail.

I touch my iPad and there it is.
A posting from a friend.
The posting that I need.
The reminder.....
I link to click a read......

Red Letter Living:  How I combat self-pity  


Count your blessings!  There are so many things in my everyday life that I should never take for granted because they are gifts. Gifts that God has given in the form of blessings.

I hope this helps you in your day too!

Dear Daddy,

Dear Daddy,                      

                 Thank you.  

For the years....for the support.....for the love.

I know how hard you worked when we were little.

I know how you worried that we were always okay.

But you always found a little time 

to fly me around on the giant furry dog.

I know I made you crazy.

But you were always there.....

.........always standing behind us,

always supporting us.

Thank you for letting me stretch my wings

and be what I always wanted to be....

even though I still don't know what that is.

And most of all Daddy......

 I want to thank you for .....

....... for gifting me your sense of humor!

I love you Daddy.

Happy Birthday

Love always, 

     your little girl