A Fence Picket for my Kitchen

 I learned a valuable lesson from Lillie this week.

Well, perhaps I should say,

"I am learning a valuable lesson."

Let me explain:

This spot above my stove seemed bare.

My husband put trim up under the kitchen cupboards,

and this trim came across from under the corner cabinet

which separated the tongue-and-groove on the back of the stove.

It needed something.

So I found a picket from an old picket fence at an antique store for $1.

I mulled over what to put on it.

I saw a great idea from the Graphics Fairy Blog,

a saying my Farmer used to say to me nearly every morning

as he left for work:
"carry on;"

and who doesn't need a reminder to

"keep calm" when cooking?

But I didn't like it.

The lettering came out wrong to me

and I just couldn't stop not liking it.

Don't you hate when you spend time on something

and it comes out wrong?

It has been like that lately:

 The green beans have been devoured by the bugs.

We got nothing from the second planting.

Our refrigerator has been leaking.

The inside bottom has to be wiped out every other day

or it seeps out onto the floor,

which then passes through our plank floor,

and drips onto the basement floor and woodstove,

rusting it.

We've worked on it,
looked the problem up on the internet,

defrosted it,

cleaned out the drains,

and now we're just hoping it will get better on it's own.

Appliances do that, don't they?

 I found strings all over the floor under my bed when I was vacuuming.

I also noticed empty thread runs in my favorite vintage coverlet.

I finally put the two together and got a confession from my son:

he thought it was "fun" to pull out the strings.

No sense crying over pulled strings, right?

I tried to tell myself that.

I got a tooth worked on

by my "new" dentist

and the crown feels wrong.

I already drove the hour drive once to have him fix it.

Now it's better, although still feels a bit awkward,
like a marble:

I'm just going to live with it.

The farm truck didn't pass inspection:

it needs $2000 worth of work.

My new contacts are a different "improved" brand of the old,

which they no longer make.

They make my eyes feel tired.

Lillie broke my favorite necklace.

The computer is acting sooo slow,

I haven't been around to anybody's blogs,

can't look up info I need,

takes a quarter hour to load up to write a blog post.

It was just in to be fixed a month ago.

And it's bad again.

And Fido.

 His mange seemed better,

so I decided to give him a bath and wash out all that old mayonnaise.

 I was not expecting what I found:

as I washed, fleas began pouring out.

It was enough to make an entomologist shudder.

I hate fleas.

They love me.

It suddenly dawned on me that those "chigger" bites on my legs

might actually be flea bites.

Then I looked down and saw them,

hopping up on my legs.

 They were everywhere.

I felt like my privacy had been invaded while I had my back turned.

It had only been a couple weeks since I'd given the dog a bath.

How could I have missed this?

I used my last vile of Advantix the next day,

the one that had been down in the laundry room for a few years.

I used it,

and THEN wondered if I should have been concerned about the expiration date...

because that's generally how brilliant I am.

I have been vacuuming every night...

the whole house...

all three floors.

It's long and tedious

and typically after I am done,

I'll walk through a room

and feel a flea or two making the ascent on my ankles.

Nobody else is affected by them.

Levi didn't even know what they look like;

but I walk into a room, 

bend over,

and I can watch them bouncing over to my feet.

They even passed the cat to get to me.

It's awful.

Frustrating.

Annoying.
Ugly.

I felt angry.

I can take something for a few days,

but when it's every day,

every room I walk into I feel the plague assault me

unless I put my feet up onto another chair or something,
it starts to wear on me.

I clean and clean and bathe the dog and hope...

only to be oppressed soon after.

I want to scream,

"It's ENOUGH!"

And then I see my little girl,

 not even two yet.

 

 This little spitfire is smart and quick

but she is also a grateful kid.

She cries when I change her diaper

as she has been working on her molars

and is often sore.

But just as soon as I am done,

she sits up and says,

"Tank-you, Mommy."

I brush her teeth, which she hates and cries during,
as well as when she gets her hair washed,
and she always has a "Tank-you, mommy,"
even when the tears are still wet on her cheeks.

If she is helped with her shoes,
or picking up her toys,

 or given a kiss...

no matter what it is,

she usually always says,
"Tank-you."

I was wondering the other day why she'd thank me for changing her,

right after she stopped crying.

I wouldn't be thankful for something that hurt.
It's easy for me to be thankful around the Thanksgiving table,
or when things are great
and it seems God is giving blessings in life.

Suddenly, the verse in Thessalonians came to mind,

"In EVERY THING give thanks..."

and for the first time in my life it hit me.

Every thing.

Not just the good things.

 

I've never thanked God for the bad things.

I've skirted the issues and found good things outside of the bad.

I've tried to look on the bright side,

find the good that might be reasons for the bad;..

but God doesn't always want me to know the reasons.

He just wants me to say,

"Thank you,"

and trust him.

 And so today,

after battling these pests and feeling discouraged and frustrated,

I just gave in and said it.

 "Thank you, God,

for the fleas."

It was hard to do.

It didn't make them go away.

I still had to vacuum.

I still itch and want to have a good cry about it sometimes;

but I've done what God wants.

I said "Thank you."

I took Lillie's example
and stopped whining about it,
(or maybe I should say I am trying to).

Because as much as I hate to admit it,

fleas can't be excluded from the word

"everything."

Linking up to:

Raising Homemakers

Table Top Tuesday

Women Living Well

Primitive and Proper

A Bowl Full of Lemons
Funky Junk Interiors 

(The image I used on the picket of the birds
is also a graphic from the Graphics Fairy blog.
They were on one of her teacup graphics).

A Saturday Morning.

 Mornings on the farm

are welcomed exuberantly by the animals.

 They like to eat.

 There's something about the smell of a barn

that has always appealed to me.

 I think it appeals to the kids, too.

 It's the smell of the fresh hay,

the barn swallows chirping and fluttering about;...

 watching an animal enjoy his feed is somehow cathartic.

 Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch...

steady, calm, patient.

Where does that saying come from,

"You eat like a cow."

I like the way cows eat.

 Yes, I am talking about you

and I do enjoy watching you eat.

Does that surprise you?

 This guy on the other hand,

in his stench and sloppering hoggishness...

 Oh, sorry.

I didn't realize you were listening.

 There is something rather handsome about a pig, though,

isn't there?

It's obvious that he thinks so.

 Old faithful is never far away.

 The farmer is getting ready to go pick up three more calves.

The girls are going with him;

Violet was excited and found it hard to sleep last night 

knowing she was going.

Lillie just said,

"I'm going.  Me, too."

Be careful with all that precious cargo.

I'll stay back and clean up the breakfast dishes.

Happy Saturday to you!

I've started a facebook page for my blog.

If you're interested, you can join me there

(the link should be over to the right).

If not, that's fine, too!

When the Beauty is Lost.

The Prompt for Today was:

"Beauty"

I emerge from from the basement

having watched a small portion of a movie about the Holocaust.

My heart feels heavy,

my eyes still wet from angry tears.

How could a people be so cruel,

so full of hatred,

so empty of empathy,

so deceived?

Where is the beauty?

What marks of goodness dwelt in such places?

Where God has been refused,

where no real love for Him exists,

there is 

bitterness and ugliness

and unfathomable deeds.

There is distortion of good.

There is evil.

Beauty is in God

who loves with no partiality.

Beauty can come from the ashes...

but the ashes cry out

in ugly reminders

of where man can go

when the beauty of a man's soul

is lost. 

 May we never,

never

forget.

Joining Gypsy Mama's

The Gypsy Mama

1. Write for 5 minutes flat with no editing, tweaking or self critiquing.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in

The Quest for Right Pieces.

The quest for quickness in a puzzle race
May present a quandary to us of slow pace.

 But Grandmom's who are quick and quite adept
Can be equal opponents,
able to keep in step.

 Questioning, quaking,
Violet's unwilling to quit;

 The quiet table boasts a quantity
of queer pieces to fit.

I quote a truth of this quarter-hour's quest:

There's no quibble that time spent together
is, for these Queens, what is best.

Jenny Matlock: Alphabe-Thursdays

the Letter: Q

Good Blogging Readers.

 I don't expect people that I know to read my blog.

I never did.

Actually,  I never thought strangers would really read my blog.

I just wanted to write.

I realize that people have busy lives

and plenty of reading to ingest in the few hours they have for it

each day.

I also realize I'm not spilling any earth-shattering news.

It's a great tip to remember if you ever blog:

blog because you love it

and don't expect anybody to actually read it.

Then it's surprising

and a little humbling when people tell you they read your blog.

 (Here's a framed picture I bought and wanted to redo for my house.)

I have a friend that I am fairly sure reads most of my blog.

She's an encourager.

She is the one who got me into my social computer life

and has encouraged me to write.

 (Removing the back to repaint the frame.)

I met her at college; she was a roommate of my good friend.

In fact, she's in many of the pictures I wrote about my friend 

>HERE<.

She had the necessary responsibility of also becoming my good friend.

 (Carefully lifting off and then preparing to paint the mat board.)

 She was a bit on the quiet side,

gentle voice and a calm person;

however, her laugh was always ready.

I'd often find a note in my mailbox from her

or stuck to my dorm door,

a random gesture,

just to tell me she hoped I'd have a good day

often with a Bible verse written as well.

(I picked out some bees I liked from The Graphics Fairy Blog).

For some reason, one of the verses she wrote stuck in my mind.

I think she said it was one of her favorites.

(When I calligraphy, I like to type it out in the size I want to write

and line up the wording

so I get a general idea of how to space my lettering).

(Practice.)

(Trying to determine which style of lettering I want to use.)

It has always reminded me of her

every time I've read it since

because the meaning of it defines her so perfectly. 

Thanks, Jen, for being such a sweet friend.

I'll think of you as I hang my new picture on the wall.

 You really need to come for a visit sometime soon!

Thank you also to you,

good friends,

for reading my blog.

I am humbled with the honor that you do.

Linking up to:

Graphics Fairy

 Raising Homemakers

and
Kelly's Korner: Show Us Your Blogging Tips

A Bowl Full of Lemons

BNOTP

Women living well