So good to know...

Writer's Workshop Prompt:
10 Reasons why you love your job.

Only I'm changing the prompt a little (well, kind of a lot) because I'm rebellious like that.
And my slightly (well, kind of a lot) tweaked prompt shall be:

My one job.



A strange thing happens when one becomes a small town person, and now I find myself saying things like, "Aww man, I don't want to drive into town today." Into town? Really? Who am I? But this is my reality people. I own it. Because it's true.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to make round trips "into town" and back 20 times a day (slight exaggeration), but I do, across horrid, bumpy dirt roads no less (feel sorry for me yet?).

So sometimes, after picking up one kid and waiting for another to finish music lessons or the like, I hang out "in town" instead of driving back and forth. This process often irritates me because I always have SO MUCH TO DO at home.



But on Monday I was given a gift. While hanging out "in town" watching my kids play at the park a sweet gift flooded my mind and my heart as I heard the Spirit whisper, "This is your one job. The most important job you will ever do."

It wasn't a warning voice as in, "This is your one job so you better not mess it up." But a sweet reminder, a special feeling of permission given to me by a loving Father in Heaven that it was okay for me to put all other things aside because this, my one job, was what mattered the very most.



Now, because of this precious gift, when I am with my kids I am really-- WITH MY KIDS. The need for multitasking is gone. Because after all...




I only have one job.

Woo-hoo...

I told you I was setting some goals. And I meant it. So this morning I whipped me-self up a little goal calendar (for one particular goal. I'll make others for other goals) because I'm a visual person and things such as this make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

As you can see I didn't spend any amount of time creating or perfecting my calendar because I have much to do these days. You know. With my new goals and all. I just slapped it together and added words of things that-- by working on and accomplishing this particular goal-- I'll be able to better enjoy in my life.

Hooray for goals. Hooray for progression (it's my favorite thing about being alive you know. Progression. So Fabulous.)
and Hooray for happy little doodled calendars that bring me joy.

The bus stop of loveliness...

Today, whilst at the bus stop with Mr. Waylon, I was gifted a bag of rolls, home baked by my lovely neighbor. "I got to baking this morning..." She said. "And these are for you."

"Lucky me." I squealed. And I meant it too. I was hungry at the bus stop. And bread is my favorite food group.

Along with feeding my hungry belly, this act of kindness also confirmed to me what I had been feeling all day, which is this...

I need to make time to do the things I love each and every day. That's right I said each and every.

If I want more creative time then I need to "pencil in" more creative time.

If I want to get back to playing the piano... pencil it in lady. Pencil. it. in.

In other words I'm setting some goals for myself. That's right...goals. I'm taking charge of my time, prioritizing, and living each day to the fullest.

And someday. Yes, someday. I'm going to be able to gift others with bags of homemade goodness, of one form or another, to brighten their days too.

Yes I am.

Breaks over...

(Norman's mom)

Once upon a time...mostly back while my oldest three were little... I oozed creativity. Creativity was my life's breath. I wrote, painted, decorated, reupholstered furniture, sewed, made crafts, sold crafts and created precious family heirlooms for my kiddos (to name a few).

Fast forward to now...

The other night my younger three pulled my canvas "monster" book (that I never finished sewing together) out of a memory box and squealed with delight (okay so they didn't squeal but they were very excited to look at it, pass it around and touch every page) "What is this?" They asked. Had I really never shown it to them? "It's a story I wrote when Landon was little." I told them. "Wow!" They exclaimed. "Did you paint these pictures yourself."

"Yes. It's a story about a little monster named Norman who is afraid of children." I explained. "Would you like to hear it?" We sat down and read the story of Norman (incidentally, when Monsters Inc came out my kids were quite convinced that they had stolen my idea. cute) and afterward I thought...What the heck am I doing with my life? Why have I abandoned creativity? Why?

And now I CRAVE creativity. Yes, I needs me some creative time RIGHT NOW.

Anyone want a canvas book? I'll make you one. And maybe I'll even sew it up for you too.
Maybe.

Sail away with me...

(this table was my last lucky find, while still a resident of the Valley o' the sun)

Last night I had the strangest dream... I sailed away to China in a little rowboat to find ya... no I didn't really (those pesky 80's songs. They just pop up when you least expect it).

I actually dreamed that several of my blogging friends (and some that I just stalk) came to my house for a fun little blogging people's get together of sorts. It was a bit awkward if I'm speaking the truth because all of these women. that I admire. were in my house. My house. And one of my favorite designing bloggers was making a phone call IN MY ROOM. Most of you have met my room before (it looks a lot better these days. I'm slowly evolving) and it was in all of its disorganized glory in my dream. Thanks dream for making me feel like crumb after all I've done to try to change. Thanks a whole heck of a lot.

Anyway, then came the part when I was asked to show the blogging people persons some of the interesting things to do about town...-crickets chirping-... I had nothing. So my mind quickly transported us to the Valley of the Sun, my beloved (P.S. people from the Valley of the Sun never call it "the Valley" (except for the broadcasters on the evening news) I bring this up only because it bugged me in my dream that I was calling it that)

Safely in the warmth of my "Valley" home I turned to my guests and, with a happy gleam no less, announced that I would be taking one and all to my (brace yourselves) FAVORITE THRIFT STORE. Oooo. Rowdy. But when I googled it to find its location the address came up as being on the corner of Southern and Pecos (?) This hurt my head. Even away in dreamland IT HURT MY HEAD. "How can this be?" I questioned. "It simply doesn't compute." I groaned.
But the google map said it, right there-- Pecos and Southern--marked with a big, b0ld star. Well I knew good and well that Pecos and Southern are parallel running roads that DO NOT INTERSECT. so I caused myself to wake up. so I could prove to myself that I was right. And I was.

So what's the moral of this dream? Well I figure it can be one of three things...

1) I need to have a blogger people persons get together of sorts at my house.

Or

2) I'm being chastened for not knowing more about the rich abundance (?) of fun things to do in the town where I now reside

Or

3) I've been estranged from my "Valley" home and thrift stores for far too long and a trip is in immediate order. immediately.

Then again it could have been a dream no more profound than sailing away to China in a little row boat to find ya or some other such meaningless fiddle-faddle.

And yes I just said fiddle-faddle. And yes I kind of liked it.

This much I know...

What a weekend we had. A weekend of bad news. First from my hubs and then from a friend. And though my mind reeled around, trying to think of possible solutions... What could I do? How could I help fix things?... I ultimately came back to the same conclusion that I always come to during times of trial, which is that I have very little control over what happens in my temporal life.

And that's when I remember and take great comfort in knowing that I do however have all control over what happens in my spiritual life. Nothing (aside from my own hardheartedness and stupidity) can stop me from growing spiritually and enjoying the presence of my Father in Heaven and Savior Jesus Christ in my life. Nothing.

So I spent a good part of the weekend trying to stay close to the Spirit (fasting, praying, attending the Lord's house). I allowed the Lord to manifest His power unto me and I found comfort, hope and joy in the knowledge that He lives, that His work will go forth and that He is always there for those who come unto Him.

What a comforting feeling indeed.

Be careful what you wish for...

I'm in a hurry this morning. No time to blog. No time at all. But I want to blog because I told Mr. Blissful I would and also I wanted to tell you about my new glasses. So while I'm waiting for my eggs to cook (breakfast is the most important meal of the day. even if you're busy) I'll do just that.

Okay, first of all I lied. These are not my new glasses they are Paige's new glasses. I don't wear glasses, but I covet these.

When Paige put them on her cute face I said "Oh my gosh those are so flippin' cute. I want some." (or something to that affect). So Paige let me put them on my not quite as cute face and when we showed Mr. Blissful a wide grin spread across his saxy face and a gleam shone in his eye to boot (I think he was picturing me as a saxy secretary, that's what the look on his face would suggest, but I can't say for sure :} ).

Anyway "nerd" glasses (that's the modern lingo for them. you know the word on the street. yeah I'm up on these things) are the stuff right now did you know that(I did because I'm really cool and up on these things you know)? And I WANT SOME.

So I was fixin' to order me some fake ones when I remembered...
Hey I'm 41 years old. Chances are I just might need glasses FOR REAL.

Looks like an eye appointment is in order toot sweet. :)

Do I really have to come up with a title for this post? Blah, I hate titles...

"You need to blog." Mr. Blissful encouraged last night.

"Nah, I don't feel like it." I answered.

"I'll watch TV while you write. Come on."

"Eh. don't think so."

"Isn't it Self-Portrait Tuesday or something like that."

"I don't do Self-Portrait Tuesday anymore. Besides it's Wednesday, the day I do Writer's Workshop."

"See. You need to do Writer's Workshop."

"I can't I'm too tired."

"Sure you can."

"Zzzzz..." with my daytime clothes still on no less. Told ya I was tired.

So I missed Writer's Workshop this week. I mean I guess I could still do it but eh, I don't feel like thinking that much right now.

So instead I will tell my friend Rachel that I like her idea of posting about the many adventures of Mr. Landon on his mission. And as soon as I get the writing bug again I will do just that.

I've thought about posting Mr. Landon's address so all y'all could write him happy little messages, but then I remembered that I have no idea who reads this here blog and I don't want anyone to write my baby nasty mean spirited messages. Not that I think anyone would really do that but you can't be too careful when you're talking about your baby. Am I right? And as Landon said himself of the people he meets, "They either bless us or curse us." So I know there are those out there who like to curse people if they happen to disagree with them and again, I don't want anyone to curse my baby through the mail.

So I thought, "How 'bout facebook?" I could post his address on facebook. But I'm friends with people on facebook that I haven't spoken to in over 20 years and I wouldn't want one of them to write to my baby and say, "Your mommy is a twit" (do you love the movie Matilda as much as I do?) So I guess facebook is out too.

And I can't post my email address for all y'all to email me for his address because my email address has my last name in it and I try to keep my last name from this here blog. So in short, I guess all y'all can't write my baby happy little messages. Dang it all.

But I will tell you that he is doing very well and having some miraculous, heart warming experiences. And even though I miss him SO MUCH, I wouldn't trade this time for anything. Having a missionary son is FABULOUS.
If I do say so myself.
And I do.

If I must, I must...

On Sunday my dear Mr. Blissful looked me straight in the eye and said, "You need to start blogging again."

To which I replied, "Eh. My heart's just not in it right now."

But when Mr. Blissful talks, I listen (stop laughing Mr. Blissful. Okay so maybe I don't completely listen, but lets just say I try to be accommodating when I can :} ).

Anyway...

So I'm going to try to get back into blogging. For my dear Mr. Blissful. Because I kind of like him a little.

Today I blogged over at Words for this Day. My other blog. That I love. Because Mary at Blogrock made it so dang cute. Did I ever tell you that a little splash of red is my favorite color. Not full on all over red, but a little splash of red. Yes I love a little splash of red and that's what my other blog has. love.

But I never write over there even though I really want to write over there. So today I did, write over there I mean. And you can read it by clicking the cute button below (see the fabulous splash of red) if you feel so inclined to do so. Thank you much and have a fabulous day.

A morning serenade...

I've been away from blogging for what feels like forever. I've missed it, but I've just been too busy to do anything about it.

Until...

This morning.

This morning I allowed myself a little downtime. It started with a need to hear Phantom of the Opera music. I love that music (I really need to buy the CD--and no I don't own an MP3 player because I've always had children at home who call, "Mom" every five seconds and one cannot be plugged into such a device and still hear themselves being beckoned every five seconds. So don't be making fun of me for it okay. alright.) so I clicked on some Youtube whilst making school lunches for the kiddos.

Someday I must do an entire post dedicated to the music of the Phantom. I love stories such as that and I love how brilliantly the music captures the emotion of the story. And furthermore I love talented people who bring such brilliance to life for my enjoyment. Thank you talented people. Thank you.

And speaking of great stories that evoke great emotion...
There has been great weeping, and wailing and nashing of teeth at the Blissful house over a certain book entitled "MOCKINGJAY" (I'm sure some of you have heard of it--the third in the Hunger Games series-- you know) Anyway I haven't read it by my dear daughters have and oh my... that's all I can say... oh my. Such drama. Such confusion. Such heartbreak and sorrow. Thank you talented writer person. Thank you (I mean that sincerely. I love books that can do that).

Anyway...
So I'm watching Phantom music this morning, which leads to watching Beyonce sing Phantom music, which leads to watching Beyonce and Josh Groban sing together, which leads to watching Josh Gorban and Celine sing together, which leads to watching Josh sing (because I had forgotten how much I love Josh) which leads to tears, of the crocodile variety, streaming down my face when I listen to Josh sing "To Where You Are" because it reminds me of my Dad.

Whew... you just gotta love music.

And again I say, Thank you talented people. Thank you.

Now I must go find my long lost Josh Groban CD (did I mention that I love him--and that I don't own an MP3 player) because downtime is over and I very much desire for him to serenade me while I work. Sing to me Josh. Sing. to. me.

Whew...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:

Can it be saved? Think of something that is ruined when it’s totally wet. Write a scene (truth or fiction) that involves you and a soaked item.




"I'll be there in a minute." I'll admit it's a phrase I use far too often with my kids, but this time I had a good reason. I was already engaged in a conversation with Marlee and Jamie knew she shouldn't interrupt.

"Can you come now?" Jamie called a few minutes later. "We want to give you your birthday present."

"Almost." I told her. "I'm just finishing my talk with Marlee."

Then came Waylon's plea, "Mom hurry." His voice sounded faint and strained so I hurried upstairs, afraid that he might be trying to hold something heavy. But it was my heart that grew heavy as I rounded the corner to see my lumpy, little boy sized birthday present wrapped tightly inside of a DOUBLE LAYER OF PLASTIC TRASH BAGS.

"Waylon's not here. He went in the other room for something." Jamie slyly set up the surprise.

"Oh really?" I answered, trying to disguise the fear in my voice. Then with trembling hands I tore through the trash bags to reveal the thoughtful gift of a boy. My boy. My Waylon. He was soaked with sweat, but thankfully, THANKFULLY, not yet ruined.

Well that was interesting...

(Please excuse the randomness of this picture)

I had a birthday shout hooray...

I am now officially over 40 but still fabulous I must say (I decided this is my year for not expecting warm fuzzies or validation from others, but giving it to myself) far more fabulous than last year, but only because I've learned some new, life changing things from my Savior this year and through Him we can all feel fabulous. It's true. Really. You should try it.

So I figure if I continue to learn and grow I'll remain fabulous (no plastic surgery required) throughout my 40's, 50's, 60's (well fabulous sixties doesn't have quite the same ring to it does it, so we'll say...um...super or spectacular or splendorific (you get the idea) sixties and seventies. We'll figure out the eighties and nineties later. There's time).

My birthday was a bit interesting this year to say the least. Lets recap shall we...

1) My husband was out of town :(

2) The restaurant I wanted to take the kids to (I decided if I couldn't be with my husband I'd make a fun night out with my kids, remember personal validation and warm fuzzies) was closed due to a gas leak :(

3) I accidentally told someone that I didn't like the gift they got for me (this is an awkward somewhat HILARIOUS but terrible story that I may or may not share... but most likely not) :}

4) Jamie and Waylon tried to surprise me by nearly giving me a dead child for my birthday (this story I will share but later) :o

but on the brighter side...

5) It was also the first day of school and I am now officially an empty nester during school hours mom. :)
and

6) My sister-in-law made me a really yummy cake (that I ate. In my bed. 'round midnight. Cuz my hubby was gone) :D

Fabulous.

You're all invited...

I read C jane. See it says so on my sidebar and here's the newer version of her button on this post (you can click either and they'll get you there. gotta love them buttons). Anyway I read C jane and this morning I read her post about a gathering she went to. A "gathering of creative friends".
And...

1) I love this idea. A gathering of creative friends. How fun is that.
And...

2) Miss Marlee and I want to have our own gathering of creative friends because she and I both kinda live for creativity. Kinda.
But...

3) I know all y'all who read this will say, "but I'm not creative." And then I'll have to hurt you for saying that (not really, but you know...) because by divine nature we are all creators. Some of us just don't recognize that yet.

For example: Marlee's YW leader is known to say that she doesn't have any talents and yet-- AND YET--she makes the girls the most delicious home baked goods every week and she can garden like no body's business which, in case you didn't know, equals talent and creativity. Yes it does.
So...

4) Miss Marlee and I want to and will (someday) have a "gathering of creative friends" party so y'all just better start paying attention to those talents of yours right now cuz we're gonna invite you and you're gonna have to share and it's gonna pretty much be awesome.
Now...

If you're still feeling nervous about it I want to share with you my favorite quote from C jane's blog post this morning (it's not plagiarism if I recognize the author and put quotes around it--right?)

Anyway she said ( and I quote. See not plagiarism)

And of course there were plenty of confessions of depression, mania and self doubt as per usual in a gathering of "Creative Friends."

Miss Marlee and I read this and said, "Amen" and "Hallelujah" because ain't that the truth creative people everywhere (which is all of us remember) AIN'T THAT THE TRUTH.

It's only natural that the adversary, who knows good and well that "men are that they might have joy", would do everything in his power to keep us from doing that which brings the most joy-- creating.

So set your depression, mania, and self doubt aside (or bring it with you if you must) and get ready to party with us (someday) at our very own special "gathering of creative friends".

LOVE IT.

P.S. This post reminded me of a silly poem I wrote some time ago that goes a little something like this:

I am making a fear catch sack,
To carry my fear upon my back.
My fear tries to stop me, to make me hide,
But I won’t.
So if it wants to stay by my side,
It must climb into my sack,
And come along for the ride.

P.P.S. Visit C jane's post then visit the link to her friend's art page (found at the end of her post). I LOVE HIS ART SO MUCH that I pretty much want to marry it. It's got me fantasizing about being rich so I can buy all of it because I love it so much I REALLY, REALLY want to marry it (did I say that already).

And in case you don't go and follow the link over there I'll give it to you HERE because I love his art so much I... well you know, and I want you to love it with me.

The Hard Way Cafe (table for one please)...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
DESCRIBE THE FIRST DATE YOU WENT ON IN A BOY'S CAR




"You learned things the hard way." The random elderly library patron said to me as I played puppets with my kids one afternoon.

"And that's why you're such a good mom now because you know how important it is to watch over and guide your children." He seemed to peer into my soul as he spoke and though I didn't know him (was he a psychic... an angel?) I wanted to cry back, "Yes random elderly library patron, yes I did learn things the hard way and yes I would throw myself under a bus if needs be to protect my children from doing the same."

Fortunately for me I haven't needed to throw myself under a bus because I've been blessed with good, smart kids with a heck of a lot more common sense than their mom had at their age.

I bring this up because after reading my post about my motorcycle ride, a family member told me that because of my shenanigans growing up I was lucky that I didn't have daughters who did stuff like that. You know... Carma.

But the idea behind "Carma" is that it's one of those "what goes around comes around" kind of things and in general I'd have to say that I wasn't a bad kid (I used to listen to "Afterglow" (a group who sings church hymns) on my Walkman for heck sakes (and said things like "heck sakes" for heck sakes)) I didn't want to stir up trouble, walk on the wild side or stick it to the man (if you will) I was just a naïve kid who blindly walked through life letting whatever happened happen much of the time.

Which is why I got on the back of that motorcycle that night and why I can't remember my first date in a boy's car. Hmm... I think my first "official" date in a boy's car was with a super cute guy who was visiting from out of state, but I can't say for sure because boys were my folly. Yes they were.

A folly that my daughters have managed to avoid because unlike me (at their age) they have goals, they have direction, they have dreams and aspirations, and if me having to stumble down that "hard way" has helped get them to this point I'd gladly do it again.

After all, it's far less painful than being thrown under a bus.

Well... maybe.

P.S. I am no longer a naive gal and I know good and well that someday one of my children or even the whole lot of 'um could decide to go frolicking down that "hard way" for themselves. I get that. I do. But for now I'll continue--as the random elderly library patron observed--to look after, guide and love them the best I can.

Would you like some crackers with that cheese...

Miss Marlee reads. Oh how she reads. She is a reader extraordinaire with a passion for (you guessed it) reading. Which is why she is my go-to gal when I get stuck while plotting my book. I yell, "Marlee, could you come here for a minute." And she graciously cozies up on my bed for a plotting pow-wow that often turns into an hour long (or so) brain storming extravaganza. It's fabulous.

Marlee laughs at me because I'm extremely picky about what makes the cut for my plot. But then I remind her that I'm going for the gold here (writing is my sport. Some train for marathons, some dream of scaling tall mountains, I want to "stick all of my landings" and write the best story ever) I tell her my story can't have any holes that make the reader say, "huh?" It can't have any "pretty bows" where everything gets wrapped up a little too conveniently, and most of all IT CAN'T HAVE CHEESE. No cheesy pleasey for me. "My story is lactose intolerant." I tell her. And she laughs at me. That is she did laugh at me

Until...

We went to a movie--Marlee, Paige and I. We went to a movie that we had long anticipated for what looked to be an intriguing story and a very HOT leading actor (and what mother doesn't like to encourage her teen girls to lust over hot male actors I ask you?) We went to this movie and we LAUGHED (it wasn't a comedy) we laughed and I turned to Marlee and said, "This movie is not lactose intolerant."

This movie had it all...
1) holes
2) pretty bows and
3) cheese. lots of cheese. Smothered, oozing and dripping in it.

It's only saving grace was the HOT lead actor.

But I don't regret seeing it because...

1) I had a fun night out with my girls (making fun of a movie is almost as entertaining as really enjoying it) and

2) Miss Marlee will never laugh at me during plot pow-wow again.