There are moments when I am just so tired of me and the things I do that I want to just sit and cry.  If I’m not any better at doing things by now, simple things, what hope is there that I will improve in the future?

It’s no wonder that I get anxiety when I sit down at a desk.  It is there that my worst times occur.  It used to be in school and I thank God regularly that I no longer am putting myself in that environment. Now it is my desk at home, my desk where papers flock to taunt me, where the cubbies are black holes of disappearance, and where the only things easily found are the things I don’t need at the moment.  So what could possibly have caused all this angst, you wonder? I couldn’t find an address. 

I ordered a book that I wanted to give my brother and his wife.  After ordering, I realized I hadn’t changed the mailing address – I wanted it to go directly to them and not to me.  So off to the edit page I went, thankfully there was one, and began filling in the blanks, but I couldn’t remember their house number.  I had been in the same situation not six weeks ago and had gotten their address at that time but to my amazement, it was not listed in my phone contacts.  I remember that I wrote it down somewhere. Could it have been only on the package I was mailing?  I remember remarking that it was only one number different than my parents address, but was that one number higher or lower?  I had just called my sister-in-law to make sure they didn’t already have the book so I was not in the mood to call again and totally embarrass myself.  I looked in my address book which reminded me of the address where they used to live four years ago.  I looked in my planner where nothing was listed except phone numbers.  I called my mother who wasn’t available at the time. I looked for the postal receipt for the last package I had mailed to them –  and it is really a joke that I would think I could find that.

So I put my parent’s address in the blank.  At least the book will get to someone who knows where it really goes. I have this same type of crisis every time I see the word “password”.  I do exactly what they say not to do – I write all my passwords down in one place, hard copy, so I can look them up.  But invariably the one I’m looking for is one that isn’t recorded.  Another scary phrase, “income tax report”, makes me want to go hide in a motel somewhere until April 15th is past. And I don’t even do the filing.  Where are all those W2’s and 1099’s and UFO’s and whatever else? Where did last year’s report go after we were done with it? Why on earth do we need that?  Help me.

Because I love the exercise of trying to be organized I will not give up. I’m going to celebrate (inwardly) every time I find something in the place I think it’s supposed to be. But ultimately, I am grateful that I’m not defined by my ability to be organized and that I am loved in spite of all the things I lose track of.  Sick of myself but in hope of getting well soon.

for several reasons.  For one, I made progress in the garage.  I just took a garbage can out for pickup tomorrow and it weighed a ton. A ton of old, rusty nails and screws and bolts are no longer taking up space on the shelf. Feels wonderful.
A bonus; I also found a couple of things we were looking for, again. My only regretful thought is that maybe I could have recycled some of the metal – but it would have been hard to sort out the different kinds.

I’m not a rabid fan of classical music but the right piece can really mean a lot to me.  I have always liked a song from Mendelsohn’s “Elijah” oratorio called “Lift Thine Eyes” and today I got to sing it along with two of my friends.  It is acapella and somewhat challenging but I was happy with the way we did it.  My friends are seasoned singers and there were no nervous snags or goof-ups. It doesn’t always happen but our voices blended really well, and this is the first time we’ve ever sung together.  The music itself is really beautiful – the kind you want to shut your eyes and listen to. Lots of people have heard this song before and many came up to us and said it brought back memories of their times in college chorales and similar venues. And the message in the words make it even more meaningful when you believe them, as I do. The words are from Psalm 121. 

I lift up my eyes to the hills –
where does my help come from
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip –
he who watches over you will not slumber;
Indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

And here is one of the most interesting You-tube performances that I found of it – a British group called All Angels.  They have young voices and ours were more mature sounding but we did it very much like they did as far as the interpretation.  It was sooo much fun to do something I loved and do it well.

All Angels “Lift Thine Eyes”

I know I haven’t posted in a while but honestly, I am thinking.  I have some important things on my mind but sometimes I want to try them out privately and see if I like the way I’ve said it. Sometimes I don’t even know what I think exactly until I try to write it. Especially when I’m writing about something more important than how the garden is doing or my silly clothes, I like to wait for inspiration too.  Inspiration can produce something relevant in words or it can also prompt me to shut up. Believe me, there are lots of things I’m glad I didn’t write or say. 

Tonight we had a dinner guest – Carroll brought a friend who was staying at his house for a couple days after visiting relatives on the other coast. We enjoyed her visit, her lovely smile and interesting stories. We met her service dog, a beautiful Doberman she had trained herself. The whole evening there was no mention of her two bouts of cancer that had nearly done her in, her time spent in a coma near death, having to relearn walking and talking. There was enough to talk about without any of that coming up because she loves to ride horses, train dogs and travel.  Her speech was a little different but her obvious intelligence and her expressive ways and enthusiasm more than made up for the deliberateness and slowness. She didn’t have a lot of hair, but like I said, she had a gorgeous smile and pretty face. She wears a scarf.  She enjoys her life. She’s going on. Good woman.

And I’m getting ready for another week to go whizzing by at work.  A new nurse is training tomorrow and that is always interesting. Monday will go fast. There is music to practice this week. (As long as I’m on trivia – my garden is doing great.) I’m still working on the garage, sorting bolts and nails. And every day I’m thinking.

I just noticed that I’ve worn smooth the textured surface of my alphabet keys on my computer. I can tell which ones I use most. I like to write (type). But I also like to get some sleep at night so, good night.  

I am here in my favorite place, home, at my favorite time of day, morning. I’ve just been outside to tweak the irrigation system which is running today. It is cool – 52 degrees – which is rare and lovely. I am wearing my favorite long sleeved shirt and my favorite sweatshirt which I hardly ever get to wear because it is usually too hot. Yesterday Joe the Mexican and I raked leaves and trimmed bushes and trees leaving a peacefulness and order in the oneacrewoods that is almost painfully sweet to look at. I know I’ll have to leave this place someday but it’s too hard to think about, so at least for today, I won’t think about it.

After working yesterday I did one of my favorite things for supper.  I started a fire in the backyard and had the men (Dennis and Carroll) roast hot dogs for us.  Joe stayed to eat with us – me and the guys, one of my favorite small crowds.  (I say this because I can pretty much count on them never complaining about any food that is served. Well, because I like them too.) And this morning I’m having my early cup of coffee in my favorite mug, accompanied by my favorite toasted cranberry walnut bread from Publix. I’ve just read a few chapters in my favorite book. My life is filled with favorites. I am favored and thankful.



Newly trimmed orange tree, and the rose and rosemary garden




Shade shed – didn’t really clean up here but I like it a little messy



Tuesday morning – I’m the only one up. It’s still dark. Feed the cat. Off to work
Tuesday noon – check emails, delete 20 ads, nothing personal.
Tuesday 4 pm – finally home, pet cat, no notes or voice mails.
Tuesday 8 pm – wondering if someone has kidnapped my husband, should I expect ransom note?

He did eventually show up at 9:30, having gone straight to band after work. I probably wouldn’t have been so aware of the empty house if I had known he wouldn’t be there for supper. We usually know where the other is. This leads me down several thought paths but specifically thoughts about waiting. And interestingly, my Bible study course last week had some good insights into the subject that I think are worth sharing.

“Waiting provides the excitement of anticipation and pleasure of curiousity.” I remember a time that we planned to visit St. Augustine for an anniversary (or maybe it was a business trip – more likely). I checked out a couple books from the library and learned a lot about the city. I even saw pictures of a bed and breakfast place that I wanted to stay in and restaurants that I wanted to check out. We never went but I feel almost like it happened and the learning and anticipation was sweet.

“Waiting provides time for productivity” and I know about this one for sure.  The first few years of our marriage I always carried needlework with me everywhere I went with my husband. He was always getting involved in conversations with people while I waited, and waited,… I finished a quilt top in that time.  And every morning my commute of 13 miles takes at least half an hour – half that time is spent waiting for the light to change. I have things I do during that time that help me wait patiently because I’m not wasting the time.  What do you do while you’re stopped in traffic?

“Planning and waiting heightens appreciation”. Yes, take, for instance, waiting for one’s day off from work. I make plans how I’m going to spend it and am thinking about it a lot. When it comes I am so aware of it and much appreciative. Like today, my plans to see a friend for lunch have been in my thoughs all week. I am loving today.

“Waiting can be a protection.” The lesson highlighted waiting in relationships. The present culture scoffs at waiting for anything and tells us in every imaginable way that if it feels good, do it and do it now. I see that to be a proven, direct path to trouble.  Waiting allows time to check what we think to be true. Waiting gives time for error to become apparent. Waiting lets the red light runner get through the intersection without having to go through your car (and you).

“Waiting patiently indicates maturity”.  Waiting is practicing patience and you can get better at it with practice. You can even start to enjoy waiting when it used to annoy. It is a way to tell God that you trust his timing and thank him for it. And it can produce peace in the middle of very trying wait experiences. My new favorite phrase “hey, wait a minute…”