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What better time than Five o’clock in the blessed a.m. to try and document your summer


And while heavily sedated too. ZZZZZZZZZ

I’m currently downstairs with our futon and sleeper sofa all in the nigh time sleeping party position. Lounging about me is Sam, Max and Jack. Noah and Scott are too cool for this party. It’s okay, I tell myself they’re too loud and smelly for this party and they can just stay right upstairs.

On my walk,um, crutch to the bathroom, I decided I needed to do a blogpost documenting my breaks, and the move. So here goes. May 1, 7:40 am, walking into work. it had rained the night before which made precarious little potholes all through the parking long at work. No worries. i had my rain boots on and my pants rolled up and just strolled right on through the puddle like a boss. The problem came in that at the bottom of the puddle was a divot or shallow hole where once upon a time, fuel oil had been pumped under ground. Anyway, I stepped right into that jerk of a hole as I was walking into work and fell over. I felt like I had sprained my left foot and possibly broken something on the right. Both pants knees were torn, hands were scuffed form the fall.  I made it into the building, stepping over the threshold with my left foot leading ,felt and internally hear a pop, and with that dramatically yelled out and fell over. Let the waterworks begin. This was a Friday, and as I’ve already mentioned the first of the month, meaning it was going to be a very busy day. I apologized profusely but wouldn’t be able to work and could someone call my husband please. He arrived in no time, a knight in shining armor (a rain jacket) and he picked me up, like literally squatted down and picked me up (swoon), got me into the van and back home where we promptly called the doctors office and said we’re coming in hot! I changed out of my wet and torn pans into some stretchy house pants and off we went. The whole time thinking the left was sprained and right was broken and putting weight on the left accordingly. OOPS.

It turns out it was the left that had a bone up in the foot that decided to break, and looking back I see it was that POP that I’d heard and felt as I stepped right into the door of work. The right foot was “only” badly sprained. I was splinted up and sent home and told to follow up with Dr. Deafenbaugh (our areas ONLY orthopedic guy) on Monday. That splint was miserable and that was a miserable and painful weekend.  Finally Monday rolls around, Dr. D gets me right in, does a second X ray and some other kind of scan and says a simple “boot” cast will do the trick, that and stay off of it for six weeks.  This is all workmans comp, so I figure I’ll stay home and “enjoy” summer a little bit more than if I’d been at work the scheduled 30 hour week.

A few weeks into May our landlord rung up, asking for a meeting. This has happened a few times before and usually ends in us getting fussed at for not doing things we were never told to do, or for him asking us for money for repairs, kind of crazy, but I won’t get into that now. This particular meeting was to talk about him wanting to sell the house. Keeping in mind that HE had insisted in a three year lease, which wouldn’t expire until June of 2016, He wanted to see how we’d feel about moving out. In his “ideal world” we would move out in 60 days. The house is a summer house, it would show better that way, yada yada yada.  So we explain that we don’t have it in our budget to move out and that we will discuss this and get back to him. After a few days Scott has compiled a list of “concessions” if you will, that the landlord would have to take in order for us to break the lease and move out in 60 days. He sends it to him via email. Crickets. We don’t hear anything back for about a week. Then early June the landlord finally emails his agreement to our requirements, and asks for a walk through of the house, I guess to get mentally an idea what he’ll need to do to get the house market ready. So he comes for this “walk through” about June 12 and as he’s standing there, he says “what would it take for you guys to be out by the end of this month?” I reply “as in 19 days from now?”

We hadn’t been packing or anything other than sorting because when we didn’t hear back from him, we figured he had changed his tune, that he didn’t want us out that bad to essentially pay us off. So he springs this 18 days business on me, i say this “fine, in addition to all the other things you and Scott have agreed on, I’d like movers and a truck on moving day. If I had time and a healed foot we could make this move in 60 days, but you want to bump it up to 19 days from now I want a couple of guys and a moving truck. Your money, you pick.” He walked away and again it was quiet. Finally later that evening he agreed. So we had about 18 days from “go” to moving day to get that house packed  up. I don’t know how we did it but we did it. Basically I sat in a room surrounded by boxes and the boys all brought everything down out of the attic and closets and we starting boxing things up.  It was a mess, but at this point I was ready to leave the dream home. We put in an application to rent a house back in the woods, waited and waited on that and it was turned down in lieu of a single woman. Then we were green lighted for a smallish ugly house and that application approved, a little over what we wanted to pay but still less than our current water home/winter disaster. Finally our agent encouraged us to put an application in on what she was calling “Painter Farm”. there was already an application in, and the landlord would be meeting those people on a saturday but we could come by and meet him as well.  The applicants who had dibs, never showed up so we got to meet him. He was (and is) a very nice gentleman. He reminds me of my brother in law Nathan, you know the busy, smart type that can’t sit still for a minute. Anyway, we quickly had the lease drawn up, this time for two year (so they could take it off the market) with an optional clause that if either parties isn’t pleased, at one year the lease can be terminated. I thought that was interesting to ask for a two year lease, and then put in that clause. I really hope the landlord doesn’t decide to act on it. We like this house a lot. I’ll write more later about the move, the rest of the summer and my second break. I think my typing is waking up my munchkins.   DSC_0626 And that’s my fancy “boot” that I got to wear for 6 weeks as I stayed off my foot. This picture was taken on the 17 of June, the first official day I could start walking on the boot. DSC_0633I forgot to mention that Geri and her crew had already had a scheduled visit from June 12-17. We took a break from packing and hung out with our friends. Last water house visit. She did get to see Painter Farm with me and was very encouraging about this house not being too “fancy” for our family, and also very prayerful on the whole matter.

Besties, and yes I'm in my pajamas.

Besties, and yes I’m in my pajamas.


burning the midnight oil


Years ago as a young adult I remember when insomnia would strike me. Maybe it was from having caffeine too late in the day or maybe it was from medicine or maybe from worry. Either way, it was an occasional issue and I didn’t handle it very well. I remember lying in bed at night and crying, CRYING because I was so very tired and couldn’t fall asleep.

I don’t cry over it any more.

As a mid-lifer, middle age woman, however you want to phrase that, (I’m 42) I still have bouts of insomnia. Currently it’s from the medicine I have to take for pain. I have tried my very best to take as few as possible and I am doing very good with that aspect. However, I am still having considerable pain in the evening and needing pain meds, and simply dreading knowing that while I won’t be in pain, I will be awake. Last night was one such night. I had considerable pain and took my medicine around 10pm. I then lay in bed, eyes closed, the right temperature setting, fan blowing on low and otherwise very comfortable. I checked the clock periodically and saw as 12, then 1:20, then 2:30 and then 3:15 came and went. I was upset but not crying. I just couldn’t make my mind be still.  So what can I do? My natural tendency is to let my imagination run wild, but my natural tendency is also very sinful and I can spend considerable time imagining all sorts of disasters or illnesses coming on my family. Kids falling down stairs, getting run over by cars, diagnosed with terminal illness. Husband bored with me and wandering off and more. Oh my mind is a desperately wicked place! So I have to train myself, make myself, focus on good things. Find things to be thankful for, which for me isn’t very hard. I have a LOT to be thankful for. When I run out of that, then I start thinking over my list of friends or Facebook acquaintances who need prayer. And I pray. I pray for the ones in China on missions, I pray for all the pastors and their wives. I pray for the moms who are stressed, sick, dying. I pray for their children. I pray for the lost to find Jesus. I pray for Jesus to come! I pray and pray until I fall asleep. When I wake up, typically very very late in the morning after a night like this, I feel rested. I feel at peace. I feel all “prayed up”. I want to hug my kids a little tighter, find more things to be thankful for and as the day goes on, I pray a little more for those I’d already prayed for. “Such a time as this”. Maybe I was wide awake, for such a time as this.

Matthew 6:25-34 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

The Cure for Anxiety
25 “For this reason I say to you, [a]do not be worried about your [b]life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the [c]air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? 27 And who of you by being worried can add a single [d]hour to his [e]life? 28 And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, 29 yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! 31 Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’ 32 For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But [f]seek first [g]His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be [h]added to you.

34 “So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will [i]care for itself. [j]Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Jeremiah 17:9 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

9 “The heart is more deceitful than all else
And is desperately sick;
Who can understand it?

Philippians 4:8 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

8 Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is [a]lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, [b]dwell on these things.

Psalm 100 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

All Men Exhorted to Praise God.
A Psalm for [a]Thanksgiving.

100 Shout joyfully to the Lord, all the earth.
2 Serve the Lord with gladness;
Come before Him with joyful singing.
3 Know that the Lord [b]Himself is God;
It is He who has made us, and [c]not we ourselves;
We are His people and the sheep of His pasture.
4 Enter His gates with [d]thanksgiving
And His courts with praise.
Give thanks to Him, bless His name.
5 For the Lord is good;
His lovingkindness is everlasting
And His faithfulness to all generations.

1 Samuel 12:23 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

23 Moreover, as for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the Lord by ceasing to pray for you; but I will instruct you in the good and right way.

Breaking up with CVS


A few weeks ago I broke my ankle. I mean I really broke it. Two bones in three places. As my bff said, my legs are like metal detectors for shallow holes. I had surgery last Friday, and two plates and eleven screws later I am on the road to recovery. I opted for an orthopedic surgeon whose sub specialty is ankles and feet, and for me that meant a little bit of travel to and from the hospital and doctors offices for surgery and follow ups. A side effect of that is that the doctors have written me a LOT of prescriptions for my meds, because they don’t send out prescriptions without seeing the patient, and because I live far away, they know I can’t just pop in to get more meds prescribed. Anyway, all that to say that I had duplicates of prescriptions that I went to get filled today at CVS. One was written on Friday (day of surgery) and the second was written yesterday, when I went in for my follow up. The idea is that if I’m taking these meds at the maximum allowed amount (they are pain meds) I would go through one bottle in only 8 days. Okay. So I go to CVS and hand over both papers to the cashier at the “drop off” section of the pharmacy.  “Um, you want these BOTH filled?” me, “yes, save me having to travel out again please.”(in my head, WHY ELSE WOULD I BE HANDING YOU THEM BOTH??) her “Oh well let me see if I CAN.” She goes over to the pharmacist, who I know from the bank, a nice enough woman and I’m sure holds no ill intent towards me. I can hear them; “she wants them both filled? I’ll have to call the doctors office to verify this”. Let me back track and say that when  I saw the Doctor yesterday for my follow up, he INSISTED I take another prescription and that was AFTER I showed him I still had the one from Friday that I hadn’t yet filled. So he knew I’d be turning in two at a time. Okay, back to CVS. I’m standing there, crutches and all, my foot throbbing, as the pharmacist is now on hold with who knows who, trying to verify that these are legit scrips? I don’t even know what was the point of it. At some point I hear the cashier say “can she get the one and come back for the other when she needs it?” and I spoke up loudly, maybe a little bit of a yell thrown in “Just give me one and let me go home!” Why the pharmacist didn’t jump at this I don’t know. She stayed on the phone with the doctor for a few more minutes, me waiting, the pain starting to give me flop sweats and the poor boys looking for a chair for me to sit down on. Scott says (after my retelling of this story) that I am now on some FBI watch list as a person of interest. Yeah, I’m real interesting all right. But more than this, I just wanted to get my meds and go home and take one and put my leg up. Hallelujah thank you they finally got the ONE prescription filled, oldest first of course because that makes sense (they have to explain this to me like I’m a four year old who was recently bopped on the head by Mr. Bunny Foo Foo) and let me on my way. OH but , let me see your ID, make sure you are who you say you are (maybe that should have been done first??) and the 8$ bill was laid for me to pay. So why am I breaking up with CVS? Because Rite Aid fills this in half the time, half the questions AND at almost half the price. A nifty $4.25 was what I paid for the exact same thing a little over 8 days ago. In addition, Rite Aid is now closer to me than CVS, has more cosmetics offerings and their Plenti Card syncs up with Ibotta like a dream. It’s been nice knowing ya CVS, hasta la vista.

Dear Max


Dear Max

Field Day. Max you were so excited. You threw the ball as hard as you could and you ran as fast as your legs would take you. You only made the mistake of comparing yourself to others. Never do that Max. God made you exactly how you are, and you are enough! Don’t be discouraged, don’t be sad, just be yourself and be happy with who you are. I love you Max. You have grown and changed so much in your short 9 years, and I am so excited to see how much more you will grow and change as you become a man. I love you Max and I believe in you and believe in God’s design for you.
Always yours,