Today’s Incredible Accomplishment

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Isn’t it amazing, that wonderfully accomplished feeling you get after cleaning out and organizing your purse?

Look at me!  I could get in a gigantic car accident, bleeding and unconscious, and as the paramedics searched my purse for identification they would exclaim, “Look at this amazingly organized and tidy woman!  She sure has her life together!”

Feeling accomplished…


Inspiration in Everyday Things

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Impossible

This is my favorite doorway in the history of doorways.  The stone above the door reads, “Impossible is Un American”—and it’s true!

This particular doorway is attached to an old high school building, long neglected by the school district, now being restored by the city.  They are having to make some adjustments to the building to make it useful again.  It’s future is as a fine arts center.

Strictly speaking, not a restoration.

Strictly speaking, that is just fine with me.  The alternatives were to tear it down, or just leave it sitting, sad and neglected, until it fell down.  I can’t wait to see it when they are done with the inside.  Buildings should be useful, don’t you think?

I think about those long ago high school students passing in and out through this doorway as they get their foundation in life.  Did they carry this message with them to the sports field?  To the classroom or laboratory?  To their future oil and gas jobs Downtown?  Or maybe to overseas destinations during WWII?  Do they carry it with them still?

My inspiration?  Do I pass this message along to all the little ones I encounter?  The future mathematicians, writers, business peoples, convicts, mothers and fathers, and caretakers of the country?  Maybe I need to think about that.

Another door on the same building reads, “Ever Onward”.  Magical, is it not?


Alone Time

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What is it about being a wife and mother that makes “alone time” a guilty pleasure?  I spend my evenings and weekends in the sphere of the husband, who I adore.  I get next to nothing done.  I am all kinds of productive the moment he leaves the house.  I do not understand.

It’s not that the man bugs me or makes demands.  It’s just that when he is home, I live on the couch.  He doesn’t.  The man is ALWAYS busy.  Always working.  Always productive.

I don’t understand why I do this.

This year his Spring Break (and that of the offspring) was the week before mine.  One full week alone!  The Spring Break of Me!

I did yard work, cleaned the garage, lunched with friends, planted a lemon tree…all because I was alone.

Buckle up, Lemon Tree!

Buckle up, Lemon Tree!

I remember to blog when I am alone.  I enjoy it.

I feel guilty.  Like I must not love my family in the way I am supposed to.  I miss them.  If given the opportunity, I’d join them where they are.  I just seriously loved The Spring Break of Me, and hope I get to do it again sometime.