.

I watched (once) one of those reality shows recently that follows several groups of people who bid on storage rooms that are up for auction due to nonpayment. It was sort of interesting to see them sizing up the contents without actually being able to paw through. It made me think of our own storage room that was mistakenly put up for auction back in 1987 and how painful it was to discover half of our earthly belongings suddenly gone – an empty room.  Somebody got a real deal there with all my wedding china and flatware, quite a few family antiques, furniture… I’m getting sick thinking about it. 



I suppose there will come a time when the stress of doing things and possibly doing them poorly will be more than the pleasure I get from being involved with making music.  For now I want to be courageous enough not to quit trying. I want to keep going until I’m all used up and someone boots me off the team. At that point it will be okay. Someone else will need the opportunity. The underlying truth for me is that God, who made music possible, who made me able to hear it, made me able to imagine it performed perfectly even when I can’t accomplish that – He hears it as I imagine it in my heart and we both enjoy it together.  With that reality, I don’t even have to be useful. I just have to be. I’m extremely comfortable with that.  

We have been given an assignment to make ourselves a budget. I’m working on it and I’m getting a bit sick.  I recognize the feeling as being the same one I get at income tax time, even when it’s not my job to file. Just the thought of having to come up with any given figure, or produce pieces of paper that prove I’ve earned something, or spent something starts a nervous reaction in my whole person. Headache, anxious stomach, inability to concentrate, irritability and dread hit me with a vengeance. 
To make a budget I have to figure out how much we earned and how much we spent over a period of time (I chose the last six months). I spent the last six hours going through bank statements, credit card statements, and pay stubs.  I put it all on a nice little spreadsheet. Unfortunately it shows that we spent more each month than we earned. How can this be? It’s very interesting. It’s very confusing. It’s very alarming.  My head hurts.

Once again I am sitting in front of my computer with my 22 oz. of Kozy Shack gluten free Original Rice Pudding wondering where the week went.  Last weekend was so busy with music that there was harldy time for anything else. We had OneConcert again which took all Sunday afternoon and evening.  It was so much fun and to me it was energizing.  I got the husband involved this time with his trumpet and he got all kinds of kudos and gushing compliments. 

This weekend is looking good too, but with things of a different nature. First of all (except for my rice pudding which was treat #1) I got to come home to a cleaner house today.  My sweet friend Zenaida came to dust and clean floors while I was gone and it smelled so good when I walked in  – the Murphy’s Oil Soap, I think. I thought I was hiring her but she didn’t want the money (which planet is she from!?) As I said, she is so good to me.  Next, I get to go out for supper tonight! No cooking for this lady.  It’s our almost monthly night out with Jack and we are going up to a restaurant on the river to relax and have dinner. He is paying this month.  Jack is one of those guys who always wants to offer a cocktail, appetizers, wine, coffee and dessert as well as the meal so I end up feeling like a queen or something. Oh, he even picks us up. How wild is that?  For my next treat I am getting up at 7:30 in the morning and going for a massage.  I know it’s kind of an unusual hour but I’ll feel good all day because of it.  I hope to accomplish at least five or six important things with the rest of my Saturday, and with my Sunday too.  I absolutely love weekends!



Would you please be amazed at my clean, shiny floor!



Background to story: ( Monday afternoon) On the way home from work I stopped at the west Bradenton Walmart to get some supplies for my employer. I waited in line at the checkout forever, finally paid and headed to the parking lot with my bags, keys, register slip, etc… in hand.  Unlocking the door, I heard something hit the pavement so I set things down inside the car and looked for what had fallen.  My bright red aluminum credit card case was lying slightly under the car and I picked it up and put it in my purse. Drove home.

The Dillema: (Tuesday evening) The husband and I are on our way to a meeting, planning to carpool with someone.  We find out at the last minute that we are not carpooling but driving ourselves there – but since we started out early, we suddenly have nearly an hour before the meeting. What to do with the time? Suddenly I am thinking of a Wendy’s Frostee and how I would really like to get one and just sit and enjoy it for a few minutes.  We are passing a Wendy’s so pull in and I go in to order. I pull out my credit card case for the first time since Walmart and … what?! there is nothing in it. It is empty, cleaned out. I still am able to get the Frostee but am inwardly freaking out and trying to imagine what could have happened to those nine or ten important pieces of plastic (driver’s license, credit cards, etc…) I go out to the car and confess my discovery to the husband. He also freaks. 

The Plot Evolves:  I start to think when I might have left my purse unattended for even a moment… can’t think of anyplace I’ve been except at home or at work.  The husband starts calling credit card companies to check on balances and our loss protection plan.  I try to remember exactly what was in the case but I’m a little foggy on some of it.  I suddenly remember when I last used the credit card and being at Walmart.  I know I didn’t leave it in the store because I remember dropping it in the parking lot. DROPPING IT IN THE PARKING LOT!!!!!  Aaaagghh!  I call Walmart and am routed to the service desk.  After an interminable length of time someone actually asks me what my name is and I tell them.  After another interminable length of time someone says they have some things with my name on them in a plastic bag. Oh joy, I can hardly believe it.  Husband stops making calls and we begin to breathe normally.

The Plot Resolves: We decide not to press our luck and set out to get the cards immediately. It is in the opposite direction from our meeting and will make us about an hour late but is clearly the right thing to do.  We make the drive and I go in and ask at the service desk.  Walmart is fairly careful with some things and it requires a manager to unlock the room where lost and found valuables are kept so I wait an interminable length of time for a manager to appear. The manager is a 5 foot 1, 95 lb. slip of a girl who looks to be about 14 years old, but has a definite aloof, authoritative air.  She disappears into the locked room while talking on the phone, but eventually comes out with a small baggy containing all my credit cards and my license.

Postscript: What must have happened is that when my case hit the pavement, it popped open and ejected my cards forcefully under the car where they weren’t visible – who would have thought? In it’s resting state, on it’s side, it was closed and appeared not to have opened so I didn’t check it. In hindsight, I should have.  And in leaving the parking lot I was looking where I was backing, and where I was going, not where I had been. There was an employee collecting carts in the close vicinity and in all likelihood, it was he who found the cards moments after I had left. The manager said that they often find things and are very good about turning them in. Obviously this could have ended in a very different manner.  I am grateful for every honest person involved, and for every prompting that led me to discover the loss and remember where to look. And we still made it to the meeting for all the vital parts.

The Oneacrewoods is a unique property. I’ve thought that since my first glance down the drive back in the old days – that’s when I fell in love with it and my feelings have not changed a bit!  To find such a sizeable lot with a double house and so many unusual trees within a 1/2 mile of a business district is not a common thing. And now, a new landmark, our own lion guarding the entry.  We needed this. 



Hello, welcome to the Oneacrewoods! Roar!



It belongs to the person next door, and the drive is one that we share. I guess since it is really his property and we just have access rights he can put anything there that he wants, so bear in mind (or lion in mind) that I did not go out and buy this lion. It just appeared yesterday while I was at work.  He’s got a rather friendly face, for a lion, and he is about the size of a real lion… none of those trailer park yard ornament varieties. Kind of a red sandstone color.

My first thought was that he was a little ostentatious for the Oneacrewoods.  I can see him fitting in at Buckingham Palace or some large gated estate maybe. The truth is I think lions are a little ostentatious in front of gated estates too.  I mean, who are they kidding? We’re to think they have lions guarding their gate? Is this Africa?  I even queried Facebook to see what my friends thought of this lion and got mixed reviews. Paint it, cover it, name it, cool, stately, needs a lamb – clearly there are many kinds of people in the world with different tastes. Thank you all for your opinions, but as I read them I was often thinking “really?”

So there he is.  I asked the husband what he thought of the lion and he said “where is he?” This is after he had driven past, within four feet of this life-size object.  Reminder to self: do not take this man on your next lion hunting safari.  Yes, so there he is and it looks like he’s staying a while. I can use him as a landmark, telling my friends to turn in by the red lion and not having to worry about them saying “which red lion?”  That’s the beauty of being a bit odd and more unique. I’m just sayin’…



Is that a little smile I see?



Lots of rain again! I’m going to do something outside tomorrow even if I have to wear my boots and rain gear. Reminder to self: check for spiders living in boots before putting on.

Who remembers where they might have heard the quote in the title of this post? I remember.  Quote the next line if you do.
Answer in next post.



Rain barrels are full – water just runs off the top