Project 365- #4

Project 365 is hosted by Sara at ...make music from your heart to the Lord. Eph. 5:19. Those who began with her from the beginning are in their 37th week of this meme. The idea is to capture each day in a photo and on Sunday, post your week in pictures. This is only my 4th time participating. If you'd like to read more of these, go to Sara's blog and find Mr. Linky at the bottom of her 365-Week 37 post. He knows where the party is.


If anyone is wondering how the bathroom project is going over here:




These are the tools and stuff we use when we work on the bathroom project, but when we are not working on the bathroom project, the living room looks like this. I prefer non-chaos living, thus the neatly stacked and stowed stuff next to our sofa. It has been here since...um...about August 31st.


If your 22 year old son leaves for the wilderness in February, where he lives, eats and sleeps until May, then returns to your house for three weeks, before venturing to the mountains of New York, where he lives out of a canoe and does camping evangelism, until he gets a Skype interview and hired for a new job in Michigan, while he is still in New York, then drives to your house and begins his new job almost before he can unpack his jeep- you'll know it by the derangement throughout your home.


A bedroom where the boy is trying to make room to sleep:



Filing cabinet drawers piled in the family room:
(I'm betting blur is not equivalent in oooh and aahhh to bokeh)




That are supposed to be here:

(Please notice the computer nook has been painted a lovely shade of finch and has hardwood flooring- recently installed.)

However, there is an extra computer in the nook, with an extra keyboard atop it. This is because someone periodically unplugs my computer and rehooks our monitor to his own. I'm okay with this, as long as it is as it should be when I come down to read blogs. I am not an electrician, after all.


Large spare parts are lying randomly on end tables where cups of tea should rest.



There was a time, in the not so long ago past, when all of this would have sent me climbing up the walls to the ceiling like a mad woman- when I could not function in the midst of such disorder. But I can honestly say that, while I do not like computer printers sitting on my end tables, I am, at this time, able to not sweat the small stuff, focus on the greater and live in the joy of an almighty God, who does all things well. If you'd like to come over for a cup of coffee or tea, you are welcome. We will fellowship with plastering paraphernalia at our feet and rest our teacups on an upside down, plastic clothes basket. And it will not matter one little bit.


Moving on to Saturday's picture. I came around the end of a rack of sale clothes at Sears, while shopping with Fash and about had a heart attack when I first saw this, because I thought somebody else had just had a heart attack. But when I noticed the somebody had no head, my heart returned to it's normal beat and the sweat on my upper lip evaporated. It was merely a mannequin that had tired of standing. Or it was the new fall fashion for what to wear if you are planning to be laying around on the floor in public places. I'm not sure which, but I can say that noone was hurrying over to fix 'er back up.



(By this time Fash had left me for a group of her friends, who were going to a movie- she missed the heart attack mannequin.)

I did find a blouse on the sale rack and I did buy it. I was going to wear it to church on Sunday, but the friendly Sears salesman forgot to unlock the theft prevention doohickey. Outside the Box offered to saw it off for me, but you know if you mess up the procedure ink shoots out and ruins the shirt. It's what keeps me from stealing these $7 blouses.

Anyway. This is not a problem. I'll just run back over to Sears sometime soon and see a sales associate for removal.


Today is Sunday. I.T. was on a fishing trip with my uncles, cousins, dad and brother. Outside the Box couldn't go this time. He was busy preparing to help lead worship and read scripture at the church service, purchasing fish for the loser of a challenge to swallow at his first youth group event and battling a small head cold. Fash and I attended Outside the Box's new church. A Spanish speaking church uses the building for their service at 1pm, so the two church fellowships partnered for one big fall kick-off service today at a park nearby. The service was 1/2 in Spanish and 1/2 in English. I thoroughly enjoyed the entire service and understood fully 1/2. I loved seeing this handsome, young man tuning up his guitar in the band shell. We all ate lunch together picnic style after the service. The whole thing was wonderful.

This week I thought often of change and a little bit about suffering. Our circumstances change. Life moves on. That's just the way it is. Sometimes change is accompanied by pain. It makes your heart hurt to leave the good old days behind. But you take your memories with you and let them soothe your heartaches. Above all, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the one and only true God of the universe, who created all things good and who has your best interest in mind- who loves you with an unchanging love and cares for you- will not fail or turn His back on you. He has been the same from the beginning of time, because He is the Beginning of time and He will be the same to the end of the ages. Call upon him. Lean upon Him. Trust Him. And. Obey. It frees your mind and allows you to rest- in all circumstances- to rest in Jesus.


Don't tell Fash, but I got these shoes at Sears.

Day in the Life

The 50th wedding celebration weekend last year. There's my dad. Isn't he handsome. Just thought I'd show him off. This pic really goes with my post from Thursday, you can read it by clicking on the highlighted words "my dad".

Today my five year old nephew and his 9 year old sister came to stay with Aunt Heidi and cousin, Fash, for the morning. It was the first time I'd seen the kiddoes since last weekend when the little guy left his stack of baseball cards at the cottage- they were visiting with us there. Fash stowed the cards in her sweater pocket for the ride home. But then she forgot and threw her clothes, including the sweater, into the washing machine- cards in pocket. Now we had to tell him why his cards were wrinkled. I hoped they were from a pack his dad may have recently picked up at the dollar store and not anything valuable. We explained that they inadvertently had spun through the gentle cycle, but it wasn't quite gentle enough for baseball cards. We were sorry. My niece quickly replied, "Don't worry Aunt Heidi, my dad gave them to him out of his collector set he's had since he was a little boy. They're really old and dad has a lot more ." Gulp.

If anybody sees anything here that used to be worth a hundred dollars, I don't want to know about it.

After the confession, we ate blue pancakes that Fash made.

I helped my niece with fractions and my nephew practiced writing his name and cutting on the dotted line. I sure do love these kids.

In the background is a front entryway that needs a makeover. That may happen when the cows come home.

Later, I helped Fash take care of the neighbor's baby, while she put the other three charges to bed. I was just bored; she can handle the whole bunch by herself and usually does. I.T. was gone fishin', so I found myself without a date. Holding that six month old baby took me back. It's been a while. It's funny how you automatically start doing the baby bop and your hand starts patting and your voice changes into a coo. I was just going to pop in for a quick visit with Fash, but I stayed the rest of the night and held that baby and fed him and played with him. I'm not a grandma. Our kids are not even married. But I can see that I have some grandma in me- more and more of it is beginning to show- like when I drive- but that is a different post....

Thankful Thursday!

Want to write about five things you're thankful for this week? Join Sonya @Truth 4 the Journey and the rest of us who are doing it or just go to Sonya's place and click on Mr. Linky's links to read 'em.

1. Tributes are often paid to a person after he or she dies. I want to pay a tribute to my dad, while he is alive and in excellent health.

In sixth grade I got an A on a paper I wrote about my hero- My Dad. He worked hard every day of his life providing for us, so we could be happy and carefree. He fixed all our broken toys, appliances (except the toaster he threw out the window) and vehicles. The lawn and garden were weed-free and productive, because of my dad's diligence. (and mom's)

Snowmen were taller than my dad, because he was an expert snowball roller. He gave them walnut eyes, mouth and buttons and a long carrot nose. He lifted us up, so we could put his scarf and hat on Frosty.

My large box turtle was safe and had the whole yard to mosey about in, because my dad drilled a hole in the edge of Turtle's shell and strung him to the clothesline by a long chain, so he could move freely about, but still be captured. It was the perfect solution. We always had plenty of food at our house, even Turtle ate hamburger and salad from mom's Frigidaire.

Dad was always the funny guy and he still is the funny guy- joking around, sometimes to mom's definition of silly. But we laughed a lot with dad and we still do.

My dad served our country during the Korean War, went to school on the G.I. Bill and became an Industrial Engineer. I always knew he was smart, had great ideas and was well respected in the workplace.

Dad spoiled us to death. We had everything, even in hard times when a bigger company bought out the one dad worked for and he spent a little in between time working odd jobs with a builder finishing houses. He finished my purple bedroom with the lush carpet during this time. I loved that purple bedroom.

During a tornado, with the barn about to fall, Dad went in and let our ponies out, so they would not be crushed. We were so afraid for him, but God protected him. The barn did fall. And ponies makes it sound like we were rich. We were rich in love alone. Financially, we were usually your basic average, but us kids were pretty much unaware. We had what was important and a couple of ponies dad got somewhere, because I wanted one. We had plenty.

My dad learned to love the Lord our God. He came to know Jesus Christ as his personal savior. He took us to church every Sunday- this gave us a firm foundation.

Dad loves my mom with all of his heart and has for over 50 years. This has always provided such stability!

We went camping in our little red pop-up, visited relatives far and wide and went down to the Mississippi River to watch eagles dive for fish near our home in Hamilton, Illinois- together- our family.

Now my dad likes to relax in his RV with mom. They have been all over the U.S. including Alaska, sometimes incorporating Christian mission work into their travels. Mom and Dad are the champions of all of our causes.

I'm thankful to have been brought up by this loving, giving couple and thankful that my dad pursued my mom, though she was hard to catch. Thanks, Dad!

2. Whew. I'm only on #2. I was hired yesterday to sell books in a Christian bookstore. I trained for the job today. Every morning the manager and salesclerks begin the day with prayer, lifting up needs and blessings that customers have posted on a prayer board near the check-out. I will work just a few shifts per week until Fash graduates in May. I am thankful God made it clear that He had this job for me.

3. My son, Pilgrim has been working three jobs in California to afford his rent. He always wanted to move to California and make his way in the world by living and working there. He's doing it. I bet it is not easy. He is learning, ever learning. I'm thankful God is providing for Pilgrim.

4. Of course you know about son #1 already and his new job, but I am still filled with thanksgiving over the new Director of Youth Ministries over here.

5. Fash had a class today- American Literature. She said, "It is going to be a lot of reading (sadly, Fash claims she does not like to read) and a lot of work, but it is going to be good for me." That is what she said. And she was the only one who has already begun to read Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, the first assignment. I'm thankful for all of this. Perhaps education is not wasted on the young, after all.

Hopeless in Home Decor

Lately, I seem to be drawn to blogs that feature home decorating ideas. There are a gaggle of decorators in blogland. Many before and after pictures of gorgeous rooms and little doo dads hanging on freshly painted walls. Furniture galore, purchased at flea markets for pennies, then sanded and painted and roughed up and restuffed into the perfect chair with attached side table for the theater room. I stare for several minutes at these makeovers. Sigh. And then click away to the next floor 'em decorum. "I wish," I think.

But over here at Heidi homeland, the situation is such:

I've gotta have the clock radio in the kitchen. How else am I going to listen to JQ99. That station keeps me cooking. But. That station does not come in clear unless I hold onto the cord that is neatly wrapped around two thingys in back of the under- the -counter radio. But. I can't hold onto the cord and cook. So, I must balance a carrot on top of the lid of the huge, Costco ketchup container we're saving, as I.T. will need it one day for storing nuts and bolts. The lid sits on the actual ketchup container, which rests on the upside down, empty Sherbet tub. From the carrot, a stainless steel knife stretches to and is jammed between twists of the cord that supplies power to the radio. As incredible as this may seem, it works. The station comes in clear as a bell and my hands are free to fry eggplant. I'm happy and I sing!

But. How on earth does one work this into the decor? I cannot for the life of me figure out how this could look any better with a makeover? And believe it or not, this kitchen has recently been made over. Yep. We kept the under the cabinet radio with the defective cord.

When company comes, I take down the radio tower and play a cassette. A cassette. You know, a tape. You put it in the drop down opening and push "play".

I do believe the situation over here is near to hopeless where home decorating is concerned.

Still Hoping...

Hello, I'm back.

Outside the Box called from New York days before he was scheduled to drive home, after a full summer of taking high school and junior high aged kids on outback canoe trips through the mountains. He called to say he'd landed a job. In Michigan! Yes. Before he even set foot back on Michiganian soil, the boy turned man had been sought out and hired. He is now the director of youth ministries for a church in a city near our home, which includes two months of taking teenagers on outback trips, such as the ones he led this summer. Full time job. Full benefit package. He starts tomorrow.

This is news I was not allowed to tell. He said, "Mom, don't put it on your blog- or facebook- I want to tell Grandmas and Grandpas and family first, myself." This seemed fair. So, I had to stay away from the blogs. Otherwise the temptation to share such wonderful news might have overcome me.

In the meantime, I planned a getaway to the family shared "cottage" on the lake in northern Michigan. Grandmas and Grandpas and family gathered there. We spent seven sunny warm days listening to Outside the Box tell stories of his summer camp adventures. And he had the chance to tell everyone about his new position as Director of Youth Ministries at the church where he'll be working. It was a week full of blessings. I'm so thankful!

We even spoke to Pilgrim by cell phone and heard his good news of getting a second job in California! That makes a one year lease on an apartment and two jobs for him. He went west to make his way in this world and that is exactly what he is doing. I miss him, especially at these family gatherings of celebration that we have, but we are planning to fly him home for the holidays in early December.

Stepping back into blogland tonight, I find that Gayle at Planet M Files has given me an award. I have placed it in my sidebar- it's a funny award for those who try to spread laughter through the blogs. I love it! It's the leg lamp from A Christmas Story! Fragile. (fraa-geel-ee for those who have seen the movie). Thanks Gayle! It may take me a few days to get this passed on.

Also- I am thrilled to discover- drum roll please.... that I am a winner! I won! A crate of unique Charleston things, I believe is what I may have won, from Greg! At Greg's General Store! He was celebrating his new Happiness blog that promotes hope and the fact that he had 20,000 visitors to his blog, if I remember correctly, so he decided to have a giveaway. I entered. And I won! Yeah! Thanks, Greg! And thank you to those of you who said whoot whoot to my win win in the comments of my last post, that I posted many, many days ago. I will take pictures of the unique Charleston things when they arrive and show them to you in a blogpost, so stay tuned. Greg said it will only take him about a year to get the unique Charleston things to me, so try not to miss it.

Finally, tomorrow is our first day back to "school". In Michigan, a law was passed that students cannot begin school before Labor Day, so everyone starts the day after Labor Day. I have never been less prepared for this day than I am right now. Fash's Psych book is on back order. We do have her math curriculum and Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God (that should be interesting, eyes rolling back in head) for American Lit. She has her vocabulary improvement course materials, so she can begin to work through that. In the olden days, when this homeschooling mother was on top of her game, we started school before Labor Day, with a week's worth of work written out in a planner for each kid- books all neatly on the shelf next to stacks of notebooks- sharpened pencils at the ready.

I'm sure it will all work out fine this year, as it has in all those other years, but I am firmly planted in a field of denial against the fact that this final child of ours is a senior and this is the grand finale. I'm hoping someone will give us the opening note in the morning and from there we'll play to beat the band until May.

Project 365- #3

Taking a little break from THE project.

Checked out the county fair early in the week. This is a prize winning sunflower.
I feel all farmy in the animal barns, but get a little sad, because these critters never return to their home barn. I wonder how they feel about those posters over their stalls "Thank YOU John Deere Tractor Supply for Buying my 2009 Fair Hogs". Certainly, they know what that means.

It's just as well this shot is out of focus, but my point is: why can't the horses' heads face the aisle? You have to stay on your toes in the equestrian barns.


See. The view from my suburban window is quite good. "Hey, good lookin', what cha got cookin'....."

(sorry about the raw meat shot) These skewers of pineapple and spicy sausage were delicious.

My kind of cookin'....


Truth is, I'm pretty tired. Last night, I stayed up all night and into the early hours of morning talking to my son, Outside the Box, who had just returned from New York, where he spent the summer working. It's already one in the morning, Monday- we all shared a late supper here, with the girlfriend, played cards and laughed. I'm so happy to have him home. We're planning some family fun for next week and into the Labor Day weekend, so it'll quite likely be blog break time. I'll have a lot of catching up to do on blog reading, but right now I have a lot of catching up to do with son #1.

I hope you all have a wonderful week and weekend!

THE Project

Our bathroom project is This Old House meets That 70's Show. I.T. is like a Norm Abram protege.



He seriously can figure it out even though the whole time he is muttering, "I don't know what I am doing." And me- well, I stay near I.T. and catch snippets of falling paint shreds ,while I await his instruction. Kind of like Vanna White standing beside the puzzle, just waiting for someone to buy a vowel. Except I look a little more like this:









He'll say, "Hand me that putty knife" or "Will you rinse this off" and I gladly do it, because I am so thankful to not be scraping the glue anymore. We gave up on that. I.T. sanded. I especially like it when he asks, "Will you bring me a glass of water?" I'm out of that bathroom in a New York minute. I make the best glass of water with ice, which takes a little time. Happiness is not being in that bathroom.

There is this blog I read, My Sweet Savannah- she redecorates every day, I think. Entire rooms- poof- new look. I go over there and listen to music play- it comes right out of her freshly painted rooms, while I browse and dream. It's absolutely lovely every single day and always just a click away.



Back here in THE project, I play my favorite Christian music station on the radio, while we work. If I didn't, I wouldn't survive. Thank you WJQ-99 FM! But the feeling from Sweet Savannah doesn't transfer.



Do you know I went to a paint store yesterday- I explained the whole bathroom project- the wallpaper glue, the scraping, the uneven walls from the scraping, the sanding, the uneven walls from the sanding. The paint professional knew just what I should do and she told me, "You simply paint this stuff on, it dries hard, then you sand it off, then you paint it on again, rough it up and paint over it."



I gave her the blank stare for about three full seconds before I repeated, "I paint that over all my walls, then I sand it all off, then I paint it over all my walls, then I sand it, then I paint?"



"Yes," she was satisfied with herself for having explained it so well. She held it out for me to take to the register for purchase.



Thinking back, I know it was impolite, but I told her I wasn't doing that. I couldn't. She didn't understand that I wanted the bathroom painted before Christmas 2012.



Last night, we decided we had to paint the ceiling. I was hoping we could paint the walls and call it a day, but I.T. thought the hairline cracks all through the white ceiling paint would be even more prominent against freshly painted walls of color. He thought he'd just rough it up a bit. Turns out the ceiling paint is barely attached to the ceiling. The paint began to peel off in long, wide strips. I.T. teased that the ceiling paint was coming off a whole lot better than my wallpaper glue. Oh that gave me a laugh. Right. Then the ceiling paint began to fall and hang in strips like this:



The ceiling paint was coming alive and reorganizing. I thought we should just walk away and return next week. Who knows. The whole bathroom might redecorate itself.


And I.T. has been sanding, then slathering plaster paste or whatever it's called all over the walls and he tells me he's going to sand it all again when it's dry. That sounds so familiar. I know I've heard that somewhere before.

I can't promise I won't blog about this project anymore until it's finished, whatever finished is- sanity is important.


May the good project fairy twinkle on our bathroom today. Poof- new look!