Saturday, May 22, 2010

In Nicole's defense...

Of the 4 family members Nicole is the least guilty of surface dwelling. Not immune to it - but the least guilty.

Friday, May 21, 2010

The most glorious sound...

You may not know this - but the most glorious sound is that of a toilet flushing. Yea! We now have two functioning toilets and two functioning sinks upstairs. You are free to use them as long as you don't mind the fact that there are no doors. Sadly, I don't think Bob will mind that at all...we will have to teach him some self-control. (And speedily paint the doors.)

On a Bob note - whatever relationship havoc the remodel had done to our marriage, the painting has repaired. For some unknown reason, Bob finds the fact that I am spending countless hours painting, very attractive. Go figure. Maybe it's the baggy, paint riddled jeans - or perhaps the paint in my hair. I don't know why I can't paint without getting it in my hair. I pull it back, put on one of Bob's baseball caps - but still, at the end of the day - paint in the hair. Someone asked me the other day what colors I chose. "Look right here." I said as I pulled forward a lock of hair, "This is the bathroom color. What do you think?" She thought I was strange.

At a bridal shower I attended last night, several neighbors said they wanted to come see the progress - to which I responded "Anytime!" But inside cringed...since the rest of the house is complete and total chaos. You see, I live with 3 surface dwellers. All of their belongings must be on some highly visible, horizontal surface. Did I mention I have an 11 foot bar in my kitchen? That's a lot of surface to cover people - but never fear - my family comes through. Alright - I confess it's not all them - sadly, (sigh) some of it is me. If I leave one magazine or the mail on the counter it seems to be the permission everyone was waiting for to start the stacks. Stacks and stacks of randomness (trying to avoid saying crap.) It drives me nuts - but it gets so bad that it seems overwhelming. Bob has all of these items (papers) that he apparently is going to need at any given moment and therefore cannot move or put away said papers.

As I attempted to clear up the other day I discovered (please enjoy the irony) a book I had purchased on organizing. The book talked about how some people need to see everything, others need it hidden away. Therefore, if you want to see everything, your desk should have stacking trays instead of filing cabinets. Anyway, in spite of the way my home is looking these days, I am definitely a "hidden away" kind of gal - and thought Bob must be a "visual" organizer. (His desk at work has approximately 200 stacking trays, give or take). When I asked him, I was stunned to hear him say "hidden away." What?! have you seen you? You are a hoarder in the making! But - nevertheless, I went with what he told me. I took this gorgeous, large filing basket, placed it on the desk in the kitchen and made folders for all of his vital papers. I lovingly showed him where everything was - and YET each time he would look for something he would come to me, panic in his voice, unable to find said papers. They are right here....on the desk, in the basket, in the folder, in the house that jack built. (sorry) This is what the basket looks like now: The surface dwellers have taken the basket captive. I would move the stack to show you the cute files, but I simply lack the courage.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

A few observations on painting...

1. How can my muscles be so sore from painting?

2. I know I must be gaining "contractor" skills because my pants keep slipping down as I work.

3. My Sister-in-Law's mother can paint in stilettos and look amazing. I look like I have been finger painting with a wild group of small children. More like full body painting...

4. It is 7:30 on Saturday night...we have only prepped (takes FOREVER to fill all those little nail holes and caulk) and primed the two bathrooms since yesterday. I am now terrified of the living room. It has never seemed so large.

5. When I go to people's houses I'm going to start complimenting their walls. Not the color, just the mere fact that they have paint on them.

6. Now I know why my brother paints his walls and ceilings the same color. Was 3 tone such a great idea?

7. Who wants to have a paint party?

Monday, May 10, 2010

Story #36 Testimony

My testimony of Jesus Christ and his gospel has always been and will always be the guiding force in my life. I have been blessed with a faith, that even during difficult times I know that the Lord know me personally and loves me. I wrote the following story many years ago. Although it may be slightly high on the cheesiness scale - it represents how I feel about the Love Heavenly Father and Christ give to me.

Little One

Once upon a time there was a small family of sparrows living in a large oak tree at the edge of a meadow. The oak tree was the best place to live because on the other side of the tree was a glorious mountain reaching up into the sky. Gazing at the mountain tops filled a young birds’ heart with excitement over the idea of someday soaring up into the clouds.

In this family of sparrows was a bird much smaller than his brothers and sisters and so his mother called him “my Little One.” Because of his small size, Little One was always the last to learn a new skill, and frequently left behind in the nest as his mother attended to the needs of his siblings.

Little One did not mind being left alone. He would sneak out of his nest and hop along the branches to the other side of the oak tree to gaze up at the mountain. On the mountain lived a large and powerful eagle. Little One loved to watch the eagle spread his massive wings and seemingly float up into the clouds. How he longed to feel that kind of power and wished that his undersized wings could move with the strength of that eagle. Watching the eagle would inspire Little One to practice flying amongst the branches of the great oak desperately flapping to get up to a higher and higher branch.

One day while waiting for his family to return a large storm moved into the meadow. Winds blew and torrents of rain began beating down against the leaves of the great oak. Mother bird returned to the nest and tucked her small family in against the cold air. Little One peaked above his mothers head just in time to watch the eagle mount up his wings and force his way into the storm. Filled with concern over the safety of his hero he asked his mother what the eagle was doing. His mother explained that eagles were so powerful they could fly to the eye of the storm and let the winds push them up to the blue sky above. There they would soar until the storm had passed.

As time went on, Little One’s practice amongst the branches paid off and he was finally strong enough to join his family in the meadow searching for worms, insects and other tasty treats. Little One loved to pretend he was the eagle and flap about amongst the flowers of the meadow.

Time passed and Little One continued to grow, although never as quickly as his brothers and sisters. One day after hours of play Little One snuggled into some tall grasses to rest. Quite unexpectedly a large storm roared across the meadow.

Sheets of rain pounded through the grass, pushing the blades into the ground. Little One quickly awoke and flapped his wings toward the great oak to join his family. But the power of the storm was too great and each time Little One would take flight the rains and winds pushed him back down. Again and again he tried, but to no avail.

Tears filled his eyes as he cried out for help getting weaker with each try. He lay helpless in the muddied grass thinking that this was the end - until he thought of the eagle, forcing his way to the eye of the storm where the winds would push him up into the blue sky above. He knew that this was his only hope for survival.

In one last great attempt, he closed his eyes against the rain and wind and began flapping wildly against the storm. The wind tore at his feathers and pierced through to his skin. The heavy drops of rain tried to force him back down to the muddy meadow below. But with the image of the eagle in his mind, Little One kept working. Eyes closed against the cold winds he continued to push until his muscles burned with pain and his feathers became heavy with water.

Suddenly he seemed to feel a push from below as the winds began to lift him up. The rain was no longer pounding on his frail body and when he finally dared to open his eyes, he gazed upon endless blue sky above, while the grey clouds brewed below. The triumph of the moment filled Little One with gratitude for the times he had been forced to stay behind and watch the eagle. The eagle, whose image had inspired him to get through this trial of his life.

As the Little One looked around he could see the eagle off in the distance. But what Little One did not see was that the eagle had flown with him taking the brunt of the storm upon himself until they pushed through the storm together to the serenity of the blue sky.

Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young shall utterly fall; But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:30-31

Copyright 2004 Michelle Denney