New Adventures of Mine

 Mr. M and I have been married for 28 years . . . and yet the house we recently purchased will be the first house we will be buying together.  You see, he already lived in the house we have lived in for our entire married lives when he proposed to me.  We planned to stay here for the entirety of our earthly journey.  Who knew how much room a baby needs???  (Not just the baby, but the babies' food, toys, clothes, etc. etc.). This is the reason we are both so disproportionally stoked about buying a new home, a home that will truly reflect who we are (and we've had 28 years to figure that out), and a new home that will represent who we want to be.  We have designed the majority of the house ourselves, with one eye on the present, and the other eye on the future.  (You may be wondering why, between the two of us, we have only two eyes . . . it is because the Bible says that when a man and a woman marry, they become one flesh.)      It may seem worldly and materialistic to be so con

  I was talking with a friend about 30 years ago about our trains of thought, and how one thought connects so seamlessly to another seemingly unrelated thought. So I thought about my thoughts as I sat and drank my hot cacao from my cute, little, new french press. I bought this french press because I had already bought this ground cacao that boasts many health benefits, with no sugar. Then I had a thought; in my search for a french press, I had seen a really fun-looking retro press, but passed it by because it cost twice as much. BUT, we are planning to move into a larger home soon, which will make being hospitable much easier, so maybe it would be worth it to spend some more on a cuter french press. SO . . . during the time it took me to drink my cacao, I had one thought, but that one thought consisted of several thoughts: everything started with wanting a healthier drink-that's what led to buying the cacao and french press. Then, I thought about our new home, and how we wan

 What if I had turned left on that street instead of right?  Maybe I would have walked into a riot (or a "peaceful protest"), and gotten shot or had someone jumping up and down on the roof of my car.  What if I had just sent that story idea to the publisher I found?  I might be making a good income from home, doing something I enjoy,  What if I had gone out with that guy with the big ears when he asked me for coffee?  I might have found the love of my life, and lived happily ever after. I was talking with a girl last night-"late into the night" for me, a mother in her forties, but still early in the evening for her, a college girl in her twenties, about choices and outcomes. We were talking about-you guessed it-a boy, a boy I said "no" to, and how things worked out well-wonderfully, even-for both of us.  We are both married to the loves of our lives, and we both have precious families.  I wouldn't change a thing, and I'd bet my entire bookshelf pl

  For a while or two now, I have been thinking about how our spouses change who we are . . . especially when we marry young. If I had married a man from the South, who wanted to raise chickens and goats, would I be the same person, or would I be a redneck wife, or a Southern Belle? If I had married a man who was studying to go into the ministry, would I stop listening to secular music, reading secular books, and sit around the hearth in the evenings discussing theology? I'll never know, and that's OK-because God has always known exactly who I'd be and what I'd be doing at any particular moment, and He chose me before I was born to be a child of His, and He has orchestrated every choice I've made and every word I've said. He even chose the time and the place I would live. (Ps. 139, Eph.2:1,2, Acts 17:26.)

  She is thoroughly reprehensible, and I bet her dog doesn’t even like her! This woman is a big wig on our neighborhood's HOA. Our streets are being slurry-coated, an event designed for no other reason than for entirely inconvieniencing the homeowners. We all have to do a little dance with our cars in which, on Monday, all the homeowners in the northern half of the neighborhood have to get up at some ungodly hour to try and find a parking place somewhere in the southern half of the neighborhood, and then walk back home. The process is then repeated in reverse a few days later. Well, I did my part and parked my car on another street. Later, I had to go get Donny from school. We parked on another street, and walked home. I did accidentally take one small misstep, with no harm done. We hadn't been home for a full minute before our doorbell rang. I was feeding the dog, so Donny opened the door. I went outside to give the dog her lunch. As I walked towards the door, Mrs.

 These look much more impressive in person-especially some of them.  Some look almost transparent.  I washed and scrubbed them with dish soap, and my next move will be to soak them in vinegar.  I've bought a beautiful and unique decorative jar to hold and display them.  I think that will make a great centerpiece, as well as a great conversation piece.  Thinking of little things I can do now to make our new house more homey helps me take my mind off all the waiting . . . and the many fees.