HAPPY EASTER!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
It Can't Be THIS Easy, Can It?
Our household's been struggling lately with typical teenage angst from a typical teenager that very loudly PROTESTS she is NOT a typical teenager. Along with this has also come the typical tantrums, disrespect, loud mouth, sarcastic, back talking, eye-rolling. . . Well, I'm sure you get the picture. And this one has her eye-rolling down so well, that it takes me a few seconds to realize it's not Melissa (with apologies to Melissa, but seriously kid I never thought I'd see anyone as good at or better than you!). I'm very thankful I'm not contending with bubble gum popping and smacking, too.
So, amongst all this she decides she wants her beautiful long hair cut and streaked in rainbow colors. OK, I hate to see it cut, but it is her hair and she does want to donate it to Locks of Love, so I don't really mind too much, sniff, sniff : ^(
But the streaks, I had to think about for a minute or so. Then I decided there were worse things she could want or even do than have rainbow streaks in her hair.
Off to the hairdressers we go.
15 inches off and bright purple highlights later we head home.
I think I must have brought the wrong child home!
The tantrums, etc. have virtually disappeared and in there place is a young lady that doesn't have to be reminded to watch her tongue, say please and/or thank you, that sympathizes with me over my arthritis instead of fussing and lecturing me about what can help it, and knows how to smile. Faint-you can pick me up off the floor anytime now.
Can it really be this easy? We went Thursday and the new kid is still here.
She's wanting pink highlights now, too. Hmm, maybe this time I'll bring home one that's pleasant AND does her chores!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Both Worse and Not As Bad
I finally got up the nerve to go to the other house.
I'll post pics when I can get them linked.
I'll post pics when I can get them linked.
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Sunday, April 10, 2011
Numb and Reeling
We have another small house that we lived in (it belonged to my great-Aunt) for awhile until we got the one we live in now. We have used it primarily as storage until we can finish the renovations on the one we live in, plus every now and then we'd work on a few things on that house, too. Well, it was broken into.
They stole the normal things, I guess that you just expect like our table and chairs, all my new china, the flatware and other things from my Mom & Dad's 50th anniversary party, our freezer, air conditioners, and way too many other things to list; but they also stole the BATHTUB! Ripped it (quite literally) right out of the wall, from upstairs no less. They also stole the SINKS out of the cabinet bases. Trying to not be too maudlin, Lexie said, "We can't even say everything BUT the kitchen sink, coz they took that, too!"
In the process they either dropped the tub on the toilet or just deliberately destroyed the toilet. It's in a million pieces all over the upstairs around the bathroom and hall. Apparently it looks like a bomb or dynamite went off in there.
They took the freezer door off the refrigerator and kept the door but left the refrigerator.
They emptied everything out of the boxes and totes and poured the contents all over the floors downstairs, to go through everything, then refilled the empties with what they wanted and left the lids to the totes and tops to the boxes-on the floor.
Yesterday I was so numb, I couldn't even think straight and cried non-stop. I felt like I could be hurt physically and I'd just say, "Oh, I'm hurt," and it wouldn't even register. That's how truly numb I was. It wasn't so much the theft as the way they did it - cold and calculated. I felt like the people that did it were saying, "We not only stole-but we STOLE."
They had to really scope out the area and learn routines of the neighborhood.
It's a small street just six houses and the neighbors always let us know if someone turns around in the driveway, that's how well they look out for us and each other.
The house had set empty for almost 10 years before we moved in because my great-Aunt was in a nursing home then we moved in and a couple of years ago we moved out; and all that time no one ever bothered it. A total of nearly 18 years. I'm thankful for all the time it wasn't bothered, but why now?
I couldn't go over there. A combination of recuperating still somewhat from my surgery Wednesday and being afraid of what my reaction would be. I still have a very hard time with things that remind me of my assault. And the fact that everything was scattered and messed up; like my office area and desk were after the assault, I was afraid of flashbacks.
The numbness is beginning to wear off, and all I can think is, "I would've given it to you, if you'd asked."
I mean, it's just stuff, right.
But now, we can't finish the fixing up of the house you broke into because it will cost more than we can afford to fix everything you destroyed, which means we won't be renting it like we'd planned or be able to sell it, which means we're trapped in a mortgage that we won't be able to keep paying on and it also leaves a little girl that loved that house with very bad memories now instead of happy ones. And to top it all off, you took her stuffed tiger and wolf her mother gave her for her birthday.
They stole the normal things, I guess that you just expect like our table and chairs, all my new china, the flatware and other things from my Mom & Dad's 50th anniversary party, our freezer, air conditioners, and way too many other things to list; but they also stole the BATHTUB! Ripped it (quite literally) right out of the wall, from upstairs no less. They also stole the SINKS out of the cabinet bases. Trying to not be too maudlin, Lexie said, "We can't even say everything BUT the kitchen sink, coz they took that, too!"
In the process they either dropped the tub on the toilet or just deliberately destroyed the toilet. It's in a million pieces all over the upstairs around the bathroom and hall. Apparently it looks like a bomb or dynamite went off in there.
They took the freezer door off the refrigerator and kept the door but left the refrigerator.
They emptied everything out of the boxes and totes and poured the contents all over the floors downstairs, to go through everything, then refilled the empties with what they wanted and left the lids to the totes and tops to the boxes-on the floor.
Yesterday I was so numb, I couldn't even think straight and cried non-stop. I felt like I could be hurt physically and I'd just say, "Oh, I'm hurt," and it wouldn't even register. That's how truly numb I was. It wasn't so much the theft as the way they did it - cold and calculated. I felt like the people that did it were saying, "We not only stole-but we STOLE."
They had to really scope out the area and learn routines of the neighborhood.
It's a small street just six houses and the neighbors always let us know if someone turns around in the driveway, that's how well they look out for us and each other.
The house had set empty for almost 10 years before we moved in because my great-Aunt was in a nursing home then we moved in and a couple of years ago we moved out; and all that time no one ever bothered it. A total of nearly 18 years. I'm thankful for all the time it wasn't bothered, but why now?
I couldn't go over there. A combination of recuperating still somewhat from my surgery Wednesday and being afraid of what my reaction would be. I still have a very hard time with things that remind me of my assault. And the fact that everything was scattered and messed up; like my office area and desk were after the assault, I was afraid of flashbacks.
The numbness is beginning to wear off, and all I can think is, "I would've given it to you, if you'd asked."
I mean, it's just stuff, right.
But now, we can't finish the fixing up of the house you broke into because it will cost more than we can afford to fix everything you destroyed, which means we won't be renting it like we'd planned or be able to sell it, which means we're trapped in a mortgage that we won't be able to keep paying on and it also leaves a little girl that loved that house with very bad memories now instead of happy ones. And to top it all off, you took her stuffed tiger and wolf her mother gave her for her birthday.
Find my new blog now at:
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Tomorrow
I have another outpatient procedure tomorrow, so I'll be reading more and then blogging as I'll be recuperating for about 2-4 weeks. Gives me lots of time to do my favorite therapy-Read! And under Doctor's orders I can't do anything too strenuous, to include bending, lifting, etc.
The weather has been nice lately so the little one and I have been walking the dog. Not that she or the dog really need it, but I do!
The weather has been nice lately so the little one and I have been walking the dog. Not that she or the dog really need it, but I do!
Find my new blog now at:
The Faith of Ronald Reagan
The Faith of Ronald Reagan by Mary Beth Brown brims with stories from President Reagan's years as he grew and later became a politician. The book vividly portrays his humanity, optimism, strength of character and humor.
Small vignettes shed light on the larger than life person we've come to know and love.
President Reagan's life was profoundly shaped by his mother, Nelle Reagan, a devout Christian. He felt there was nothing his mom gave him more important than her deep faith. A faith he embraced and allowed to guide him throughout his life.
Nelle frequently read stories to him and his brother. Each of these stories had a hero and a moral lesson; teaching good from bad. Most importantly she lived as she taught by putting her faith to work in all she did.
As Reagan grew physically and spiritually he never failed to listen to and for the voice of God to guide him through his journey.
Brown uses stories from friends, relatives and Reagan himself to show and consistently weave the story of his faith in all aspects of his life.
The book follows the various phases of his life from birth to death, with the greatest emphasis on his latter years. It opens with his being shot and closes with poignant eulogies.
I received a free copy of this book from Thomas Nelson in exchange for a blogger book review. I am not required to write a positive review.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Not too bad!
Well, I survived my 57th. My 50's aren't as worrisome to me as the 60+'s will be and past that, oh my!
But it's nice to be alive and to savor everyday our Saviour gives us.
God bless everyone, today and everyday!
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