Category: Home

Wednesday is for laundry

Reading: Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather

Thinking about: some failures in my leadership; my grandmother, my parents, my kids.

Celebrating: 5 consecutive weeks of health.

Looking at: ideas for displaying some art.

Embarrassed about: a video I made for all the Primary children in my Stake. I forgot to put on my shoes, and the camera caught it. I am all dressed up, but have only stockings on my feet. In my Mr. Roger’s moment of making programming for children, I forgot the importance of SHOES.

Wishing for: some snow or some sunshine, just not this gloom.

Praying for: that’s personal, but our nation is high on the list.

Smiling about: Timothy’s piano performance coming up today that Richard and I can attend.

Eating: I have no idea. It’s time to go grocery shopping.

Thankful for: working machines to wash and dry the laundry so I can focus on other things. And for the chance to be alive at this important time.

Thoughts while cleaning the house

I’m at the phase of pandemic living that I wish for a baby Yoda doll just to sit in a barstool and watch me work.

There are only 80 rolls of toilet paper left in the house…That feels a little edgy to me.

Nope, the outdoor wreaths are not coming down today.

Ooooh, someone just drove into the culdesac! I will stare at them and learn their secrets.

Maybe if I place these cleaning supplies in the middle of the floor, I will be more likely to scrub this bathroom after I check my email and Instagram…(Four hours and many distractions later) Nope.

I need to finish listening to this Christmas album before the boys come home and wish they hadn’t.

(Leveling two picture frames) I think they’re level. Are they level? Yes! *Snap* go the Velcro Command Strips. (Standing back and noticing I have hung them backwards) Noooooo!

So many towels. So many dog hairs. So much glitter on Christmas cards this year.

I love this house, especially after I mop. ♥️

The real joy and triumph is finding happiness when things are difficult.

(Taking a trip into the spare bedroom where I have hidden the chocolates) Maybe I will just open them and see how many are left. (The better angel of my nature takes control) Stop. Now! (Me, backing away from the chocolates, issuing them a knowing look) Later, girlfriend. Sometime later, but really soon.

The patience of hope and the labor of love

…And our talents improve, by the patience of hope and the labor of love…

Come Let Us Anew, Hymn #217

I spent the week after Christmas gathering, archiving, reminiscing, writing, and creating. The Christmas packaging is *mostly* cleaned up, but not really. Fabric needed to be put away after both hasty and long projects, so I did that. My biggest and most precious project of the week was to compile the cards and letters I received this year. I read each word again, and studied the list I made of kind acts people did for us, then placed them in a book. My 2020 was not fun, not hardly a bit, but I cherish it, and the people who helped me.

My goals from last year were completed as best I could, with great amendments made to expectation. I had enough clarity to respond to nagging thoughts about gathering more food and some other things in February that made the early days of the pandemic much easier. In my review of lists and journals and all those things I keep, I see how I was guided and carried and loved.

My goals for the year are rarely completed just as I imagine, but I make new goals anyway, so I am moving forward. I can hear God’s voice better when I am working on goals.

Today I begin taking down the trees and garlands, wreaths, and bows. It is grim work, but sparkly handmade snowflakes are ready to fill empty spaces and reflect light. I want to remember that I had energy and health enough to give in every way I wished this 2020 Christmas. God is good, even when we are unhealthy and struggling, and it is such a blessing to eat a simple breakfast, laugh with a friend, hear beautiful music, be cherished by a loved one, and to see the changes in seasons. I am hopeful change is coming in terms of public health, but I am ready to wait for it for a long time, and grow as I wait.

Advent Day 14

The hope of the righteous shall be gladness.

Proverbs 10:28

We made this video eleven years ago, and I’m so glad that we did the work. I blinked, and the kids were too old to do things like this, so I am grateful for record. Hope fuels so much of parenting, and when you’re in the middle of it, you can’t always see the wonder happening in front of you.

While Covid-19 Rages

We’re all home again because case counts are too high at the high school and in the state. Mark has ordered a new game. Tim works on his Fiat in the garage. I read, continue to rearrange these shelves for a change of scenery, and make people paint peg dolls with me. Richard’s employer is demanding a lot of overtime, so we don’t see much of him, but he is here at the house, too.

Upon the kitchen table

This is what was on our kitchen table this morning:

  • A plant, still sitting in the Christmas pot I decided to use a year and a half ago, “just until I found a different container.”
  • License plates for a new car
  • Ballots for Richard and Daniel, and a new adult driver license for Daniel
  • A trophy for Mark, signifying three years of great concerto performances
  • A note from Jordan High, telling Tim he has been selected as the Instrumental Music Sterling Scholar
  • A packet of information about graduation
  • A college flier
  • A laptop
  • A tray left over from the meal we took to Richard as he recovered from his scuba trip
  • Various place mats in disarray
  • Mark’s James Herriot book
  • A recipe and containers for a pasta salad I am making for a funeral this weekend

I am having a couple of rough days with my health, so I just picked up a few things to put away today. The table is large and can hold all the magnificent evidence of our lives. It’s unlike me to glory in the mess, but I kind of like this one. It shows that we are moving forward.

Happy things today

A happy list today:

Negative Covid test results for a loved one

A sunflower in a vase beside my sink

My Christmas quilt is all quilted with gold swirls and I’ve attached the binding. It’s ready for hand sewing. This might be my favorite step.

New fabric on the pillows

Time spent in the Book of Mormon: I love that book.

Our kids have fun interests (classic cars, portraits, music composition, cooking, piano, woodworking, reading) and they are good company.

Richard is a good calculus tutor.

Rain is in the forecast.

My first issue of The Friend arrived today, after letting our subscription lapse for a few years after our kids left Primary. I have missed this church magazine!

I just watched the first episode of The Chosen series. I don’t think it’s very accurate but I really liked it, if for no other reason than it portrays biblical personalities as relatable people.

So much mental energy

I look at this wall more than any other because it’s the view from my chair. I spent months identifying why the original gallery wall didn’t make me smile before I got to work fixing it.

Eureka! My eyes like black and white photos with wide white mats. I could give new life to my old frames with a $4 can of spray paint. I didn’t need to display everything I love, just a curated collection. I realized my favorite gallery walls aren’t perfectly symmetrical and they have a variety of sizes of photos. I used Velcro Command Strips so the frames stay in place.

Interior design is something that interests me, and I make all the mistakes as I learn to create beautiful spaces that are pleasing to me. This week: dramatic covers for those neutral pillows.

Emotional tool kit

I have done some work in the family’s bedrooms this week, and this video speaks to the feelings I have as I watch my children’s rooms change as they grow and leave home.

Seven months ago, before the pandemic impacted our lives, I had an idea to create an emotional tool kit, with physical objects to inspire and comfort. I wrote down a list on a post-it note, and began to move the note in my day planner, putting it off for another time. Maybe I was in denial. “Oh, I won’t need this,” or, “If I make it, something will happen that will make me need this.”

Then came new levels of isolation, earthquakes, uncertainty about the evacuation of missionaries, challenges from distance learning in schools, canceled plans, discomfort and disfigurement from abdominal surgery, and the secluded hospital stay. And so on.

I have been comforted, even without my little tool kit, no doubt about that. Still, this week, I remembered that I hadn’t compiled it, and decided it was time. It wasn’t difficult. I gathered things into an old hat box and slid it beneath my bed. Who knows if I will ever use it as I envision I might. If nothing else, it is a time capsule, and a reminder of my faith that comfort can be found in Christ, always.

The objects are small and have personal meaning. Some things are soft; others spur memories; on the bottom of the box are the scripture notes I have taken this year, which follow my 2020 spiritual journey even better than my journal. I tucked in a Michael Buble album that I love.

At times, everyone needs reminders that things are going to be okay.

If you are doing well, share your energy with others. If you are doing poorly, consider handling some physical reminders that Heavenly Father loves you and sent His Son for you. Allow the Spirit to bring joyful things to your remembrance. (John 14:26)