I am leaving y'all for a while. Moving is in the dead heat faze. Boxes and tape and tears. Moving trucks and trailers show up Saturday. I hope the six inches of snow melts before hand. Painting is almost done. I will shampoo carpets today and tomorrow, I hope. My right arm is almost shot.
We will be in our new digs by Sunday. Mark leaves for out of town trial on Monday. I am trying to get his stuff together now because I'm not sure I will be able to find it on Sunday night. Mollie comes home on Monday. Cats aren't speaking to me. Found WhomperDinky sleeping in Mark's suitcase. I'm not sure what that means. Phone lines will be disconnected here on Saturday. Will be reconnected in new house on Monday. No High Speed Internet available in Grover. I will be back to using a dial up modem. Gad, will take me hours to read and post. Just found this out yesterday when phone company called up to ask directions to Grover....
Oh, by the by. The owners of the rental house are putting in a new water line. They began digging yesterday. They are trying to beat the ground frost. I have no water. Thank God for the new house. We are showering over there. I"m not sure how I am going to clean this house without water. We are hauling buckets of water from Grover to flush the toilets. I feel like a schizophrenic pioneer. Hard to cook without water. We are showering at the other house. I look like Hell.
I have come full circle. We were moving on the exact same dates last year. When I get more time I will do a retrospective of my year. For now I just have time to post this and then start taking the computer components apart.
Adieu dear friends, until we meet in the new house, take care of yourselves. Love Bea
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Body Double
"Hacer frio."
" Yeah...and my feet are cold too." Sorry about that. It is one of my husband's favorite jokes. Snaining here at the moment. Will probably snow soon.
I'm better. Thank you God and friends. Once again I left my body in the dust and attempted to live in my head only. Must be my life's lesson to learn to live in my body. The screaming helped. Helped a lot. An amazing lot. I can roll with the punches again this morning. What seemed a crisis a few days ago now seems like...life I guess. My poor body.
No exercise (walking), lousy food, tension in neck and back, and minimal sleep. And I ain't 25 anymore either. No wonder I felt so bad. I was trying to "fix" the problem with my drug of choice, sugar, and prayer. Go ahead and laugh. It's funny. "Please God bless my addiction and make it more effective. Amen." Gad. I was attempting to logic my way out of the mess. If I could just figure out my motivations then all my problems would be solved, with God's help of course. Never dawned on me anything physical could be the main problem.
When I face stress I immediately move into my head. I attempt to figure out the problem, and solve it. I need to do just the opposite. Not all problems are solvable. I become anxious if I can't figure everything out. I hoard the stress/worry. I worry on the surface with the semi-fixable dilemmas and store the intractable stuff deep down inside. Periodically I bring up the insoluble cud and ruminate on it. I add it to the immediate conundrums. Makes a horrible wad of stuff I can't stomach. Our bodies and minds are not designed for worry. The brain needs to give the problem to God and the body needs to work out and off the pent up anxious energy. For some reason I feel threatened when my body naturally wants this physical expression. (Fear probably, from years of physical abuse when others got rid of their pent up energy on me.) So I eat to push the anxiety back down and keep it static. The screaming and pounding on the kitchen table were physical. (I broke the table.) In a round about overly dramatic way, my actions were healthy. Would beating the crap out of a tree with a red plastic bat have been better? Yes. Would a fast walk/run have been better yet? Absoflippinglutely. But the screaming worked. I am grateful I do not have kids. I understand my adopted mother m-u-c-h better today.
Okay I learned something. I NEED to pay attention to my body. The healthy food, the exercise, the massages, the new mattress, the bike, and the walking shoes are not luxuries with which I am indulging myself. If I am going to survive intact I have to have them. My body is not just a vehicle for my head. "I" am part and parcel of both. And my spirit. I have spent years and lots of money taking care of my head. I have felt guilty about every penny I spent on my body. (That Puritan upbringing you know.) No more guilt. I want to be a whole healthy person. I will attempt to really care about and for my body.
I have been up since 4am. We went over to the house at 5:30 and painted until 7am. Worked like a charm. I am now going to go for a walk. Nothing is happening weather wise at the moment. I will bundle up and breathe the cold mountain air. I will come home and have a nice cup of tea and do my devotions. And if all that it doesn't work out as planned I will use my new catch phrase..."Okay, whatever."
Take care of your whole selves, Love Bea.
" Yeah...and my feet are cold too." Sorry about that. It is one of my husband's favorite jokes. Snaining here at the moment. Will probably snow soon.
I'm better. Thank you God and friends. Once again I left my body in the dust and attempted to live in my head only. Must be my life's lesson to learn to live in my body. The screaming helped. Helped a lot. An amazing lot. I can roll with the punches again this morning. What seemed a crisis a few days ago now seems like...life I guess. My poor body.
No exercise (walking), lousy food, tension in neck and back, and minimal sleep. And I ain't 25 anymore either. No wonder I felt so bad. I was trying to "fix" the problem with my drug of choice, sugar, and prayer. Go ahead and laugh. It's funny. "Please God bless my addiction and make it more effective. Amen." Gad. I was attempting to logic my way out of the mess. If I could just figure out my motivations then all my problems would be solved, with God's help of course. Never dawned on me anything physical could be the main problem.
When I face stress I immediately move into my head. I attempt to figure out the problem, and solve it. I need to do just the opposite. Not all problems are solvable. I become anxious if I can't figure everything out. I hoard the stress/worry. I worry on the surface with the semi-fixable dilemmas and store the intractable stuff deep down inside. Periodically I bring up the insoluble cud and ruminate on it. I add it to the immediate conundrums. Makes a horrible wad of stuff I can't stomach. Our bodies and minds are not designed for worry. The brain needs to give the problem to God and the body needs to work out and off the pent up anxious energy. For some reason I feel threatened when my body naturally wants this physical expression. (Fear probably, from years of physical abuse when others got rid of their pent up energy on me.) So I eat to push the anxiety back down and keep it static. The screaming and pounding on the kitchen table were physical. (I broke the table.) In a round about overly dramatic way, my actions were healthy. Would beating the crap out of a tree with a red plastic bat have been better? Yes. Would a fast walk/run have been better yet? Absoflippinglutely. But the screaming worked. I am grateful I do not have kids. I understand my adopted mother m-u-c-h better today.
Okay I learned something. I NEED to pay attention to my body. The healthy food, the exercise, the massages, the new mattress, the bike, and the walking shoes are not luxuries with which I am indulging myself. If I am going to survive intact I have to have them. My body is not just a vehicle for my head. "I" am part and parcel of both. And my spirit. I have spent years and lots of money taking care of my head. I have felt guilty about every penny I spent on my body. (That Puritan upbringing you know.) No more guilt. I want to be a whole healthy person. I will attempt to really care about and for my body.
I have been up since 4am. We went over to the house at 5:30 and painted until 7am. Worked like a charm. I am now going to go for a walk. Nothing is happening weather wise at the moment. I will bundle up and breathe the cold mountain air. I will come home and have a nice cup of tea and do my devotions. And if all that it doesn't work out as planned I will use my new catch phrase..."Okay, whatever."
Take care of your whole selves, Love Bea.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Veneerless
Windows are in in the bedroom and bathroom. We had to take down the siding to get at the old windows. Friends came to our rescue thank God. Was a labor intensive project and we did not know what we were doing. Rain at end of the day did not help. But all's well and the new windows are stupendous. Washer and dryer are in. Same wonderful friends helped us tote them over to the new house. Minor hitch in the works. When I turn on the washer it flips the breaker to the kitchen heaters and the water heater. I did ten loads of laundry in cold water. While wearing a coat. At least I didn't have to get quarters first.
Began screaming yesterday during lunch. Couldn't stop. Scared both of us. Second time this has happened to me in past few years. Hollering lasted until I ran out of energy. Then I was relatively normal. Breaking point came I think when I went into the laundry room to get more paper plates and it was flooded. Faucet that washer had been attached to had been trickling for four days and carpet was squishy. Glad Mark was home. We got towels and attempted to sop up some of the water. Wet dry vac is at other house. We soon had a whole laundry basket full of wet towels. We got most of water out of the carpet and I set up some fans to try to dry the floor. We then sat down to eat our tuna sandwiches and apples. Mark announced he would be gone for the last week of the month as he had an out of town trial. And I started to scream.
I can' t move anymore. I used to move with ease. I now root quickly and do not want to be pulled up. I don't even like this rental house that much. (And it sure hates me.) I don't know what is my problem. I wanted a home of my own. I wanted to downsize. I liked the new house. And now I hate all of it. Mark says we are too old to start over with just a toothbrush, bible and the cats. But it sure sounds tempting. Why am I not coping? This is just a move. I have done it dozens of times. Just last October for starters. Why am I coming apart at the seams?
I hate women who can't cope. Who have to be pampered and protected lest they brake. I have prided myself on being strong. And we all know what they say about pride. Well I have fallen into the pit. Will I get as batty as my mother? Who knows. I keep praying but don't seem to comprehend the answers. I do believe all things work together for good so I hope to come out on top of all of this. But at the moment I am dragging bottom. I sure hope I don't start that screaming again.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
P.S. In rereading this I noticed I spelled break, "brake." Like to stop. Very interesting.
Began screaming yesterday during lunch. Couldn't stop. Scared both of us. Second time this has happened to me in past few years. Hollering lasted until I ran out of energy. Then I was relatively normal. Breaking point came I think when I went into the laundry room to get more paper plates and it was flooded. Faucet that washer had been attached to had been trickling for four days and carpet was squishy. Glad Mark was home. We got towels and attempted to sop up some of the water. Wet dry vac is at other house. We soon had a whole laundry basket full of wet towels. We got most of water out of the carpet and I set up some fans to try to dry the floor. We then sat down to eat our tuna sandwiches and apples. Mark announced he would be gone for the last week of the month as he had an out of town trial. And I started to scream.
I can' t move anymore. I used to move with ease. I now root quickly and do not want to be pulled up. I don't even like this rental house that much. (And it sure hates me.) I don't know what is my problem. I wanted a home of my own. I wanted to downsize. I liked the new house. And now I hate all of it. Mark says we are too old to start over with just a toothbrush, bible and the cats. But it sure sounds tempting. Why am I not coping? This is just a move. I have done it dozens of times. Just last October for starters. Why am I coming apart at the seams?
I hate women who can't cope. Who have to be pampered and protected lest they brake. I have prided myself on being strong. And we all know what they say about pride. Well I have fallen into the pit. Will I get as batty as my mother? Who knows. I keep praying but don't seem to comprehend the answers. I do believe all things work together for good so I hope to come out on top of all of this. But at the moment I am dragging bottom. I sure hope I don't start that screaming again.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
P.S. In rereading this I noticed I spelled break, "brake." Like to stop. Very interesting.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Truth
It is 2:56 AM and I am tired. Hot flash and various aches and pains awakened me. Have you noticed how you are who you are at 2 am? No veneer left.
Spent yesterday moving washer/dryer and fridge. Laundry room at new house is done. Is a beautiful color. I now can do the laundry without going to the washateria. Yeah. Windows and doors have all finally arrived. Friend will help Mark install them this weekend. That will also be good. Supposed to get down into the 20's and the wind is whistling through the old ones. Shed arrives on the 25th so we won't have to rent a storage thing for lawn mower and outside furniture. God is providing money from the oddest sources so it looks like we will even make the bills without borrowing. All in all everything is going good with the move. So what is wrong with me you ask?
It is the food thing. Anybody surprised? Sugar makes me happy. It is an unparalleled delight. Candy bars, fudge, cinnamon rolls, pie, ice cream, french fries and low calorie jam. I had all that...yesterday. I want nothing but sugar. I am planning for it. I am looking forward to it. I am stockpiling it. It has become, again, the bright spot in my life. I am an addict.
I cannot control my desire for sugar without help. God's help, friends' help, food plan help. My brain believes Intuitive Eating should and could work. My obsessive body and soul long for the comfort and oblivion of addiction. A truth I have been fighting against for a year. I can face hard times straight on without the cocoon of sugar or I can avoid pain wrapped completely in the cocoon of sugar. What I can't do is face trouble with only a little bit of sugar. It is all or nothing, black or white. I can deal with life clear headed, and suffer like everyone else, or I can escape pain padded in sweet cotton wool. If I eat sugar the pain relief is immediate. My trouble is once removed. Normal eaters do not derive this pain relief from eating. They get no chemical assist from cheesecake. Ipso facto, they don't over eat. Ahh the sweet seduction of my addiction. "Eat, and life will be made easier." Ipso fato. I over eat.
I have never understood the "clean" phraseology in relation to abstinence. I "get it" at this early morning hour. I feel contaminated by all the sugar and fat. Like I need a shower. I feel hung over. Ick.
Okay I am going to take some Mylanta and try going back to bed. Take a lesson from my descent into familiar bittersweet territory. Avoid the first bite. Thanks for listening. I am glad you all are out there. Bea.
Spent yesterday moving washer/dryer and fridge. Laundry room at new house is done. Is a beautiful color. I now can do the laundry without going to the washateria. Yeah. Windows and doors have all finally arrived. Friend will help Mark install them this weekend. That will also be good. Supposed to get down into the 20's and the wind is whistling through the old ones. Shed arrives on the 25th so we won't have to rent a storage thing for lawn mower and outside furniture. God is providing money from the oddest sources so it looks like we will even make the bills without borrowing. All in all everything is going good with the move. So what is wrong with me you ask?
It is the food thing. Anybody surprised? Sugar makes me happy. It is an unparalleled delight. Candy bars, fudge, cinnamon rolls, pie, ice cream, french fries and low calorie jam. I had all that...yesterday. I want nothing but sugar. I am planning for it. I am looking forward to it. I am stockpiling it. It has become, again, the bright spot in my life. I am an addict.
I cannot control my desire for sugar without help. God's help, friends' help, food plan help. My brain believes Intuitive Eating should and could work. My obsessive body and soul long for the comfort and oblivion of addiction. A truth I have been fighting against for a year. I can face hard times straight on without the cocoon of sugar or I can avoid pain wrapped completely in the cocoon of sugar. What I can't do is face trouble with only a little bit of sugar. It is all or nothing, black or white. I can deal with life clear headed, and suffer like everyone else, or I can escape pain padded in sweet cotton wool. If I eat sugar the pain relief is immediate. My trouble is once removed. Normal eaters do not derive this pain relief from eating. They get no chemical assist from cheesecake. Ipso facto, they don't over eat. Ahh the sweet seduction of my addiction. "Eat, and life will be made easier." Ipso fato. I over eat.
I have never understood the "clean" phraseology in relation to abstinence. I "get it" at this early morning hour. I feel contaminated by all the sugar and fat. Like I need a shower. I feel hung over. Ick.
Okay I am going to take some Mylanta and try going back to bed. Take a lesson from my descent into familiar bittersweet territory. Avoid the first bite. Thanks for listening. I am glad you all are out there. Bea.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Check In
Life she is a changing. Spent yesterday digging a ditch in front of the garage to drain away the water in the garage. Much rain and then snow had created a swamp, with a carport over it. Nothing like digging a ditch in rocky muddy ground, in a snow storm to perk up a girl's flagging spirits. I am now just existing from day to day.
In clearing out stuff to move I found my passport. From 1975. For an aborted trip to Italy. I was supposed to go with a church group to sing and to "witness" to heathen Italians. Read, Catholic Italians. I let my supposed best friend talk me out of going because I was not "spiritual" enough. She said I was only going on the trip because I wanted to go to Italy. She was going, she said, "Because her heart was breaking for all those unsaved Italianos." I prayed about it and knew in my heart of hearts she was right. My heart was not breaking for all those hell bound Catholic Italians. My main reason for going was to see Italy. I felt awful for attempting to fool God and the pastor about my real motives. With shame in my voice I confessed my sinful desires in front of the whole church, and then backed out of the trip.
What a load of bullshit. Sally, my ersatz best friend, wanted her other friend Kim to go rather than me. But I had signed up first. When I unsigned my self, Kim went in my place. Later she and Sally were arrested for being drunk in a fountain. They came home to heroines' welcomes from the church in spite of it. And they had memories to last a life time.
The moral of this tawdry tale is, DO NOT LET OTHER PEOPLES NOTIONS OF RIGHT AND WRONG CONTROL YOUR LIFE. I was seventeen.
Back to packing. Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
In clearing out stuff to move I found my passport. From 1975. For an aborted trip to Italy. I was supposed to go with a church group to sing and to "witness" to heathen Italians. Read, Catholic Italians. I let my supposed best friend talk me out of going because I was not "spiritual" enough. She said I was only going on the trip because I wanted to go to Italy. She was going, she said, "Because her heart was breaking for all those unsaved Italianos." I prayed about it and knew in my heart of hearts she was right. My heart was not breaking for all those hell bound Catholic Italians. My main reason for going was to see Italy. I felt awful for attempting to fool God and the pastor about my real motives. With shame in my voice I confessed my sinful desires in front of the whole church, and then backed out of the trip.
What a load of bullshit. Sally, my ersatz best friend, wanted her other friend Kim to go rather than me. But I had signed up first. When I unsigned my self, Kim went in my place. Later she and Sally were arrested for being drunk in a fountain. They came home to heroines' welcomes from the church in spite of it. And they had memories to last a life time.
The moral of this tawdry tale is, DO NOT LET OTHER PEOPLES NOTIONS OF RIGHT AND WRONG CONTROL YOUR LIFE. I was seventeen.
Back to packing. Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Looking Up
I hit bottom last night. Angry at Mark, angry at me and angry at God. None of us deserved it.
I am so tired. I cry a lot. Nothing is moving fast, except for rapidly running out of money. Mark was supposed to set up the actual move. He hasn't. Some vague "people from work" may or may not have a horse trailer that they may or may not let us use. They "might" also be available to help lift and carry. All this nebulous planning is driving me nuts. I need to know if we have transportation and help to move. I am worried about the cost of all this remodeling. I am also worried we won't get the basics done before having to move in. It is just the two of us doing it, and one of us goes off to work for nine or ten hours a day. I was panicked when he finally arrived last night. And then he started to whistle.
Mark does not worry about anything. Mostly this is a good trait but occasionally it backfires. In this case the backfire from his wife should have killed him. I had been painting for four hours when he showed up late. Court ran long. He was in a good humor and wanted to tell me all about his triumphant day. He was whistling off and on. When I said "stop that" he wanted to know what was wrong with me. I opened my mouth to tell him...and God hushed me.
What came out was, "Just a little tired. Go on telling me about your day." Shocked the sh*t out of me. I wanted to kill him, and I was being nice. Spiritual lessons abound lately. Mark's faith that God will come to our rescue is correct. My belief that he, Mark, is an irresponsible nut case is incorrect. God gave me the grace not question Mark's firm conviction that "all this will work out." And you know what, I felt better.
While washing out paint brushes last night I prayed for faith and peace. I put the money thing and the moving thing back in God's hands. "Please help us and guide us" I prayed. Then I too started to whistle. I slept like a log last night.
This morning I had to get the phone and t.v. switched to the new house. Took all morning. Usually this sort of thing makes me flaming mad at the time I am forced to waste. Not this morning. I was calm as a cucumber and nice to all. Had to spend the morning at the washateria. This new activity is also driving me nuts. Money and time down the drain (no pun). Not this morning. I read magazines and joked with the other regulars. Later, I had to call about the shed we are having built. I couldn't find the number. Phone book fell open at "Movers" page. Right in front of my eyeballs was a phone number for Rider moving trucks. I swear to God that wasn't there before. The reason we were trying to line up horse trailers and pickups was because of no local movers. Trucks are $30-45 per day and forty-nine cents a mile (we are moving five miles). We can rent one any old time we please. They also rent dollies to move stuff.
If mustard seed faith can move mountains, maybe misty faith can produce peace, and moving trucks. I will be interested to see how God works out the money situation.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
I am so tired. I cry a lot. Nothing is moving fast, except for rapidly running out of money. Mark was supposed to set up the actual move. He hasn't. Some vague "people from work" may or may not have a horse trailer that they may or may not let us use. They "might" also be available to help lift and carry. All this nebulous planning is driving me nuts. I need to know if we have transportation and help to move. I am worried about the cost of all this remodeling. I am also worried we won't get the basics done before having to move in. It is just the two of us doing it, and one of us goes off to work for nine or ten hours a day. I was panicked when he finally arrived last night. And then he started to whistle.
Mark does not worry about anything. Mostly this is a good trait but occasionally it backfires. In this case the backfire from his wife should have killed him. I had been painting for four hours when he showed up late. Court ran long. He was in a good humor and wanted to tell me all about his triumphant day. He was whistling off and on. When I said "stop that" he wanted to know what was wrong with me. I opened my mouth to tell him...and God hushed me.
What came out was, "Just a little tired. Go on telling me about your day." Shocked the sh*t out of me. I wanted to kill him, and I was being nice. Spiritual lessons abound lately. Mark's faith that God will come to our rescue is correct. My belief that he, Mark, is an irresponsible nut case is incorrect. God gave me the grace not question Mark's firm conviction that "all this will work out." And you know what, I felt better.
While washing out paint brushes last night I prayed for faith and peace. I put the money thing and the moving thing back in God's hands. "Please help us and guide us" I prayed. Then I too started to whistle. I slept like a log last night.
This morning I had to get the phone and t.v. switched to the new house. Took all morning. Usually this sort of thing makes me flaming mad at the time I am forced to waste. Not this morning. I was calm as a cucumber and nice to all. Had to spend the morning at the washateria. This new activity is also driving me nuts. Money and time down the drain (no pun). Not this morning. I read magazines and joked with the other regulars. Later, I had to call about the shed we are having built. I couldn't find the number. Phone book fell open at "Movers" page. Right in front of my eyeballs was a phone number for Rider moving trucks. I swear to God that wasn't there before. The reason we were trying to line up horse trailers and pickups was because of no local movers. Trucks are $30-45 per day and forty-nine cents a mile (we are moving five miles). We can rent one any old time we please. They also rent dollies to move stuff.
If mustard seed faith can move mountains, maybe misty faith can produce peace, and moving trucks. I will be interested to see how God works out the money situation.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
Monday, October 1, 2007
Help
I am noooo darn good at asking for it.
What is my problem? I feel like a dead beat if I ask for anything. Like I am taking advantage of people. Well, I did ask for some help. The nice neighbors came over and helped us lift an Ikea kitchen cabinet unit up onto the wall and screw it in. Was hard work as the 90 year old wood was like iron. But we got the thing up. It is not in the right spot, but that is another story.... Then I asked if they would help us haul the washer dryer unit over to the house. I am spending a small fortune at the washateria and could do the wash for free at new house. Well...they said yes, but reluctantly. I felt so embarrassed. I felt like a sponger from hell. But, we have to have the help. I feel better today, but still get hot and anxious when I think about the look on the neighbor's face at my request. I think I recognized it. I saw it a lot in the commodities lines when I was a kid. When my "betters" handed out that cheese and flour and beans they also handed out condemnation. I now see it on store clerks' faces as they cash single mothers' food stamps. Obviously I am still confused about the difference between friendly help and public "assistance." I am sure this is another blessing disguised as an opportunity to work out more junk from the past. I wish God would bless Mark for awhile instead of me.
I am getting excited about purging stuff. A girl in our congregation is renting her first apartment. I am giving her all my possessions I no longer need. What a relief to have a place to off load them. Poor thing, she is excited to be receiving all this junk. I guess it is not junk, just goods I no longer want. It is embarrassing to know I can furnish an entire apartment out of my excess.
Bedroom is done. Basement is done. I have tarpeted the living room and it is ready for painting. Mark starts to prep the laundry room for painting tonight. Doors and pavers and wood for sealing up the end of the carport have arrived. Still waiting for windows. This is going to happen. We are really going to move. Yippee.
Okay enough glee. I have to go over and start painting the coat closet in the living room this eve. Did I mention the number of closets in this house? Too darn many if you have to paint all of them. A generous amount if you want to store things. The skies are leaden and it is cold here. But I am warm of heart.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
What is my problem? I feel like a dead beat if I ask for anything. Like I am taking advantage of people. Well, I did ask for some help. The nice neighbors came over and helped us lift an Ikea kitchen cabinet unit up onto the wall and screw it in. Was hard work as the 90 year old wood was like iron. But we got the thing up. It is not in the right spot, but that is another story.... Then I asked if they would help us haul the washer dryer unit over to the house. I am spending a small fortune at the washateria and could do the wash for free at new house. Well...they said yes, but reluctantly. I felt so embarrassed. I felt like a sponger from hell. But, we have to have the help. I feel better today, but still get hot and anxious when I think about the look on the neighbor's face at my request. I think I recognized it. I saw it a lot in the commodities lines when I was a kid. When my "betters" handed out that cheese and flour and beans they also handed out condemnation. I now see it on store clerks' faces as they cash single mothers' food stamps. Obviously I am still confused about the difference between friendly help and public "assistance." I am sure this is another blessing disguised as an opportunity to work out more junk from the past. I wish God would bless Mark for awhile instead of me.
I am getting excited about purging stuff. A girl in our congregation is renting her first apartment. I am giving her all my possessions I no longer need. What a relief to have a place to off load them. Poor thing, she is excited to be receiving all this junk. I guess it is not junk, just goods I no longer want. It is embarrassing to know I can furnish an entire apartment out of my excess.
Bedroom is done. Basement is done. I have tarpeted the living room and it is ready for painting. Mark starts to prep the laundry room for painting tonight. Doors and pavers and wood for sealing up the end of the carport have arrived. Still waiting for windows. This is going to happen. We are really going to move. Yippee.
Okay enough glee. I have to go over and start painting the coat closet in the living room this eve. Did I mention the number of closets in this house? Too darn many if you have to paint all of them. A generous amount if you want to store things. The skies are leaden and it is cold here. But I am warm of heart.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
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