Can I Bedazzle A Broomstick?

So apparently I am going to be a witch on Halloween... kinda funny considering I have never really been one to do anything on this particular day, much less let my kids wear masks and terrorize the neighborhood. It's either this southern air or old age, I can't decide which. Last year I startled my three young-uns by actually carving a pumpkin. Re-reading that entry from almost a year ago made me laugh to myself. It's funny how things can change. It looks like this year everyone is getting involved with the exception of the husband.

Just tonight the oldest purchased himself some kind of freaky mask (and no, I didn't even ask to see it... the boy is old enough to drive, old enough to work, old enough to buy his own Halloween goodies... he doesn't need his mom shaking her head in disgust which is something I would most likely do). Anyway, he did his thing at a local trunk-or-treat event. On Monday night the middle will be doing his thing as well, although I think he's playing it safe and holy as a disciple of Jesus. The youngest and I will be joining some friends to participate in another trunk-or-treat event and then... (are you ready for this, Mom?)... we are taking her trick-or-treating.

That girl is certain I have lost my mind.
But she's willing to risk my sanity for the sake of a plastic pumpkin full of candy.
Ahhh... the devotion and love of a thirteen-year old.

So a witch I will be. I can't decide if I want to bedazzle my hat with gemstones or cover it with flowers and feathers. I mean, come on... this is a pretty big deal around the old homestead. Such a thing might not happen again. If I'm gonna dress up like a witch, I want to be a memorable one. No green faces or funky warts for me. We want to make this one count.

Pictures For My Mom

Sometimes I like to take pictures for my mom just because I know she will like it. Lucky for you (or not, depending on your perspective) you get to see them, too. You should know, however, that everything you see is a direct result of my mom's influence on me.

Although the one of cat she'll gladly give credit to my dad. And the last one with the fire pit? Well, she may not be too keen on hanging out there, but I know she'll love the chairs.

Sure do love and miss you, Mom and Dad.



Anybody Want A Cat? (just don't tell my daughter)

I've got a cat who won't stay out of the bathtub, a couch full of laundry to fold, and a heart that is heavy. Not a great way to start a Tuesday, but a Tuesday that has been started nonetheless.

Our little cat thinks she's a dog. She plays fetch, acts like she wants to drink out of the toilet, and torments the bigger cat day and night. Even as I write this, those two are chasing each other around the recliner and bouncing off the walls. They are driving me nuts.

Laundry is just laundry. I got a late start on it yesterday and will be paying that price today. Anytime I want to grumble too much, though, I just remind myself that at least I'm not beating our clothes against a rock by the creek. I love my Downey fresh clothes.

And as far as my heavy heart, I'll just leave it at that. Only the Lord knows, and only He can do anything about it. I am really growing weary of this making me stronger stuff.

Please Tell Me You Can Relate

I've been thinking about my friends back home. It seems our communication is becoming less and less. I wonder if that is normal... I suppose it's just a good reminder that life goes on. I know several of them keep up with this blog so I know they know what's going in my world; I just miss knowing what's going on in their world. Does that make me nosy? I don't think so. I just genuinely miss my friends.

Life does go on. I spent a little part of today walking with a friend that I would have never known if we had not moved. Believe me, I would be missing out (and just because I think she reads this blog sometimes in no way implies that I am kissing up). Ha! It's just good to know that when a chapter closes on one portion of our life, another one is waiting to be started.

I guess I'm in a sappy sort of mood, you could say. Today while sitting in church in a pew behind our kids, I watched as one of them discreetly slipped their hand into a wallet to contribute to the offering plate (or bag, in this case). That random act tugged at my heart a little bit. I've always said that if I get nothing else right in this world, I want our kids to honor the Lord in all that they do. It's a tough road out there.

And then there was supper tonight. May I say it was awesome? I grilled out, loaded the table with good stuff, and then just basked in the compliments afterward. Yeah. I'm shameless like that. I'm also an easy one to figure out. Shower the mom with praise and she'll offer to do the dishes. Walking into a clean house doesn't hurt either. Remember, I'm not opposed to the occasional bribe.

I hear the clinking of weights in the next room and the sound of brothers talking. How short our days are becoming! The older they get, the more I'm reminded of how this particular chapter in the life of our family will quickly transition into something else. And then there's our girl. My, oh my. My little girl trying so hard to grow up... makes me want to grab the kleenex even as I write.

So, yes... it is indeed a sappy kind of night.
Nothing is bad, nothing is wrong.
In a way everything is just right.

And that makes me want to smile and cry all at the same time.

Where I Live...

We have fairs in the fall.

State fairs. County fairs. Any good excuse for a fair.

Like anywhere else, there's overpriced food...

...that is impossible to pass up.

And there's the games that are almost impossible to win.

All kinds of trinkets to woo the money of the young and old.

Yep. We spent too much money on admission and tickets and those pesky funnel cakes, but boy, did we have a good time. Some things in life are just worth that extra buck.



Better Than A Pin-Up Girl

Sometimes it doesn't take much to make me laugh. While watching tv this evening (a whole hour of The Rifleman) I looked over at my husband stretched out in his recliner. He was holding a book sideways with an intense look on his face that was a mixture of both joy and anticipation. It reminded me of what a man might look like if he was checking out the latest centerfold or something... only what he was holding was no bunny-of-the-month club issue. It was a Ford manual with detailed schematics and other fun stuff for his old truck.

Yep, we might be kinda boring around here, but at least we keep it clean. =)

A Rite Of Passage

Today was a sad day for the oldest. After supper, we sat at the table together, just him and me. The weight of the world was on his shoulders. He sighed heavily. He dug in his pockets. He sighed once more... then he handed it over. His first insurance payment for his truck. Happy day for me. Sad day for him. Do you know what all I could do with that money? he asked. Only all too well, was my response. Now don't get me wrong, his attitude was awesome. He knew this day was coming and even had it marked on the calendar. I had told him he could break it up through the month, but as he said, One way or the other, it's still gonna be the same amount. So he relinquished the funds to be applied to our insurance bill and then started talking about taxes. He showed me his pay stub and asked if everything looked all right.

Yep, I assured him. Welcome to the working man's world.

Apparently him and his brother (that would be the middle) have been solving our nation's debt problem while sitting in the drive-thru line. They did some quick calculations based on the tax they were being charged on their dollar menu burgers, multiplied that by the people living in our country, and determined that even if everyone only purchased dollar menu stuff on a daily basis, that should still be enough to run the country. Now I hope you're not grabbing a note pad and a calculator to de-bunk their theory... the fact they were even thinking that way made me laugh. They are so their dad. We swapped a little tax trivia regarding the early years of America, discussed typical household bills, and reminded the youngest once again why she's not getting a cell phone.

He left to help the middle wash the dishes. The youngest left to feed the dog. And I was left with his money feeling half-guilty for taking it and half-relieved for having it, but I also felt a twinge of pride in there. Pride for a boy who's not a boy anymore. He's learning how to hold down a job, budget his money, and pay his own way. He appreciates help when it's available, but doesn't expect it. He understands that sometimes walking out of Radio Shack empty-handed is necessary if he wants to have gas money at the end of the week (and believe me, the boy loves Radio Shack). He's learning... even if it is a little sad at times.

Nobody likes to say goodbye to their cash.