ana...

For anyone who cares I've made it a month with my sorry looking natural nails. There have been moments. They should have support groups for people who go cold turkey. Acrylic nails anonymous or something. If I could just quit picking at them. Right now 5 have a smidgeon of white tip on the ends...the others, sad. Very sad. But I am hanging in there. I could actually play some Haydn the other day without the clicking handicapping the glorious runs at the end. And sitting here typing, much easier. Anyhoo, it's a big deal in my Barbie world as is the Nivea sun tinted moisturizer I've thus far traded for my bouts at Tanning Unlimited. I'm trying. I really am. I would love to fry on a raft in my backyard all day but I'm even trying to limit myself there as well. Baby Barbie steps. Baby steps.

Well, headed in to rehearsal here in a minute. Not playing this weekend but we're breaking in a couple new people in training for Macomb tonight and over the weekend. They're great people. Looking forward to having them along for the ride.

Later taters...

porch favs...

So I have addictive tendencies. But for the price of a dinner out and a movie (or less than...) Kev and I had the greatest time last night via itunes. I know. We need a hobby. But I seriously think we may have spent the greater part of three hours downloading and searching for songs. What did we get for our $50, you ask? Well; 50 tunes in the most random of assortments; laughs; memories, complete with the sights and smells of years long passed; and an evening I think we'll both long remember. (And that was only a sampling of the songs we wanted...it's mind blowing....) I kept wishing my mom and dad had been there. Many of the songs were ones we both remember our mom's listening to. Funny how it takes you back. Half of the fun was watching the process of capturing the faint echoes of a melody buried deep in the dusty libraries of our aging minds. Painful but hilarious. At 12:30 we headed in from the porch but listened to another hour of songs in bed. I got up early to walk and ended up sitting with Kev for another hour before he headed into work listening to our new porch favs playlist. Worth every penny to see the lightness in his step as he headed out the door...



Lol. While I'm writing this he sent me an email from work with another 50+ songs he's thought of this morning. May have to wait 'til payday...

teaching grranimals to grrrrumpy…

A couple years ago I purchased a tri-compartment hamper. (For male readers; whites, lights and darks) Immediately alerting husband of many years to the updated system, we have since settled into our own individualized style of usage: Mine (whites, lights and darks) His (cram everything into whichever side is most easily accessible).

On days when I have had sufficient spiritual food and rest the contrast in our sorting interpretations can even solicit a smile, cutting him some slack for being the household head and for his greater contribution to our monetary budget. On days when I am found wanting in fruit of the Spirit or simply butt tired I am not as gracious. Or, as was the case a couple nights ago, I happened to be standing there when he abandoned protocol.

His answer: I thought there were just whites and colors.

Rebuttal: (Staring at the white gym socks wadded together with his oh-so-not-white jeans) Ok...

He continues: So, how do you want me to do this?


We’re into day two. He makes it a week I might move on to the proper uses of Chicago cutlery….

randoms are better than nothing...

Or so I'm hoping. For randoms are all I got.

Caught up with the Lowery's a couple weeks ago and took in Hillsong United for my first time ever. Amazing. Simply amazing. A bit claustrophobic with such a crowded auditorium and much standing in line, but worth it. [We did however manage to choose seats directly in front of a: soprano HIllsong United wannabe; tool of a youth sponsor; young lady who seriously needs some zync-for-the-stink pills for her feet. Or maybe just some new flip flops...seriously...all in the same youth group]

Crowder was here yesterday. Pretty cool. And how did I meet him? In the Green Room cackling away at something John was saying to me on my cell phone. You know the cackle. I turned around and found all 6 plus feet of him right behind me. Beautiful. "Where's the bathroom?" Right behind me. Cackling like an old fool.

I have over a dozen tomatoes ripening on the vine outside my garage. Dad would out-brag me, but he isn't here, so I win by default.

Gaining weight isn't near as much fun as losing it.

Currently reading: Celebration of Discipline (Richard Foster) Clowning in Rome (Nouwen) and just started Everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die...(Crowder). I'm actually really into the Crowder one today. Can't wait to get home and read some more.

"Borrowed" the neighbors wireless from the front porch the other night and Kevin and I gave Itunes a workout. What.a.blast. For over and hour we listened to snippets of all these oldies we grew up on. Didn't take time to download them all, but there is a favs playlist in our future...

It's been a long week or so. By long, I mean I haven't been home as much as I have grown to like. I'm much more balanced when I'm home more than gone. Just can't keep the pace anymore...It was nice this morning though; John and Shawna took my suggestion and got in the pool for an hour this morning. It's nice to see them chill. It was a gorgeous morning and I enjoyed having them steal away for some R & R, if only for an hour...

After 17 years of acrylic nails, I decided to take them off. Jury's still out on whether I can take it or not. They actually looked great the first day. It's been a steady downhill ever since. Not quite two weeks. Second night in, they actually kept me awake all night. Can't explain really. They are just sensitive and they catch on everything. Plus, I discovered yesterday, with the anxiety of hosting Crowder and preparations etc. I am still a nail picker under stress. Stink. If a habit can't be busted in 17 years there is literally no hope. None at all.

Chandler and Harrison raced in the second Soap Box Derby over the weekend. Out of 60 cars, (30 each div.) Chandler took 4th and Harrison, 7th. They did great. And, oh.so.cute. The morning involved an embarrassing moment or two for me that I will take to my grave, but other than that it was a beautiful day.

Started a choir. Had our first weekend of services and they rocked. Hope to attract a few more people but not a bad start. Not bad at all.

I'm really enjoying my morning routine. Coffee on the porch with a book. Watering my gorgeous flowers that seem to be having a good year. Loving the sweet potato vines I bought this year. Gorgeous green. Chose different color combos than I have in the past. Loving that too. Feed my birds. Watch my birds. Laugh at birds when they poop on Kevin's pool cover.

I suppose I should quit. Rehearsal here in a few minutes. I've had a few late nights in a row. My eyes are heavy. Might connect the lips with a cup of coffee here in a bit...

Have a great end of the week...

It takes me 15-20 minutes to drive to work in the morning. (It actually takes 15-20 in the afternoon and evening as well...) Anyway, this particular morning I weakened and peeled the banana I packed for an afternoon snack just moments after leaving my subdivision. So I have zero willpower. This we know. Anyway, I'm glad I did. This particular banana on this particular morning tasted particularly wonderful. Which made me think about that God of mine who made the banana. Complete with its particular flavor and texture. Its shape and color. Its benefits. And then I thought about all the other fruits I love to eat. And that led to thinking about all the vegetables I enjoy. And that led to thinking about whether or not God has ever actually tasted them. Or if simply by creating them, He gives us a glimpse into the tastes He knows and enjoys on a forever basis. And that led to thinking that He's an amazing God, this God of the banana. This God of Mill's Creek asparagus. This God of the upcoming strawberry and corn on the cob season. So except for the phone call I got from Neal on the way, my drive through the spring sunshine was spent in appreciation and worship for the God of my taste buds and the goodness of His earth. I don't think I've actually ever taken time like that to think about it like that or thank Him like that. And He was due...

porch sitting...

I can remember my parents sitting on our small screened-in front porch on 18th street. That's it. Just sitting. Might have munched on peanuts or popcorn, or read the paper, but mostly, just sitting. Sometimes the sis and I would play on the sidewalk or on days surrounding the fourth of July we smashed these M & M looking things that made a cool pop when they hit the concrete. Some of the favorite nights were the ones we watched it rain and even danced in the running water along the curbside.

When was the last time you danced in a puddle? I honestly think aside from the time Kevin and I were first dating and got caught in a downpour outside my studio, I haven't embraced a summer shower since early gradeschool. Now all I can think of is how inconvenient they can be especially with errands to run.

Lately, Kev and I have been doing some porch sitting of our own. Admittedly the pace my life has taken in years past hasn't exactly allowed for much of this type of thing. For breathing. For smelling the grass. For noticing the flowers I plant every year. For reading a chapter or two. For sitting. Just sitting and not feeling guilty about it. Honestly it's nice just to turn off the TV and stereo and listen to the neighborhood. Makes me feel old a little, but not too worried about it. In fact, I think I'll wrap it up and head that direction. When I left it this morning it was only under protest. And as grateful as I am to head to a job I love, I think I could actually get used to it.

Have a great night. Take your shoes off. Sit a spell...