Monday, December 28, 2009

The Big Visit

Once or twice a year my dad comes to Tennessee to visit my sister and me, and our families. We used to go see him twice a year, as children, but now he comes here.

I remember when we were little, and we knew we were leaving the next day to visit him, that we couldn't sleep because we were so excited.

Well, things haven't changed much over time. Whenever he is coming, we get all excited and the preparations begin.

Projects that we have been putting off seem suddenly imperative to finish. Houses are deep cleaned. Menus are prepared. Itineraries are formed. We don't want to waste a minute of the precious time he is here to visit.

So today, while I was painting the inside of my kitchen cabinet a lovely shade of chocolate, (my imperative project du jour) it suddenly struck me.

What am I doing to prepare for the inevitable coming of Jesus?

Am I like the five brides who trim their lamps and fill them with oil?

Or am I like the other five brides who squander the time away, waiting until the last minute to take care of business, until the bridegroom comes and they aren't ready?


1 Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. 2 And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. 3 They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: 4 But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. 5 While the bridegroom tarried , they all slumbered and slept . 6 And at midnight there was a cry made , Behold , the bridegroom cometh ; go ye out to meet him. 7 Then all those virgins arose , and trimmed their lamps. 8 And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out . 9 But the wise answered , saying , Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell , and buy for yourselves. 10 And while they went to buy , the bridegroom came ; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut . 11 Afterward came also the other virgins, saying , Lord, Lord, open to us. 12 But he answered and said , Verily I say unto you, I know you not. 13 Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh .

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Saturday, December 26, 2009

Wallpapergate: The Cover-up

I have a goal in mind, but I don't know how realistic it is. I have already bumped a large part of the plan until after Dad's visit.
I'm getting a new kitchen for Christmas.
Well, I'm not getting new appliances, countertops, a sink, or cabinets, but I am getting a new floor and paint on the walls and existing cabinets. Plus I got new hardware for the cabinets.
I was going to try to have it all finished by next weekend, but I've been working part time with my Mom, who flips houses. I have been painting gallons upon gallons.
Now it's time to tackle my own home.
Yay me!
So I am removing the old wallpaper, which is hideous, of course. When I have it all off, I will paint the cabinets, then the walls. I wanted to have the floor down, but that's a bit ambitious, even for me.
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Wednesday, December 23, 2009

The Impending Doom of Retirement

You know that grass over there on the other side of the fence?
The pretty, green, plush, wind-blown grass?
It's an OPTICAL ILLUSION!!!!!

I hear it all the time. "My husband just comes home from work and camps out in front of the TV every night and weekend. If only he would get up and help around the house. Why do I have to do everything around here!!!"

Well, as one of those wives whose husband gets off his rear end and helps out, it ain't all it's cracked up to be. Suddenly there's another person under my feet, who actually is doing things. When I ask for something to be done, it actually gets done. Rooms are magically clean without me lifting a finger in them, but then he wants to take a picture of the room and hang it up, so we all have a visual of what we may aspire to, if we so wished. It appears that his college courses in efficiency and process management just may trickle into our home, so I have to think of something clever.

Honey, could you please just run out an pick me up a few things?

Nah, I'm thankful for the help. He's even assisting with the candy making.

And when I came home last night from work, the carport and the shop were neat and tidy.

I can't wait until he's home all the time!
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Monday, December 21, 2009

Good times

Hailey is getting out the ingredients.
Tonight it begins.
The Great Cookie Bake '09.
Actually, there will be cookies and candies, but who's judging? We're making pineapple cookies, sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies (with peanut butter this time), mounds bars, peppermint patties, orange creams, strawberry creams, coconut creams, fudge, peppermint fudge, and gumdrop fudge.
Two of my nieces will be joining the fun in the morning.
Memories will be made.
Sugar comas will be induced.
Bring it on.
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Thursday, December 10, 2009

The Clever Disguise

I don't think anyone will ever guess my secret. Of course, now I am revealing it, but if I weren't revealing it, no one would ever guess it, that's for sure!
I'm sure we all have them: those tiny details about ourselves which we hide under clothing, make-up, the cover of night, etc.

No one would ever know by looking at me that I have red blotchy skin, which I cleverly cover with fabulous foundation.

No one would ever know that I am a closet control freak, but I panic under pressure to run the show.

No one would guess that I am feeding my family a vegetable tonight for dinner which is brilliantly masquerading as a pasta.

At least I hope they don't!


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Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Frantic furballs fearlessly face fourteen fuzzy foragers

As of right now, there are no less than fourteen squirrels creeping about my back lawn, doing whatever it is that squirrels do this time of year.

I have two very indignant Yorkies who feel it is their obligation to run these tiny furry beasts off.

I had to call them in and close the doggie door, so they would stop barking and ruining my relationship with the neighborhood.

This did NOT stop the barking.

Pass the cotton balls, please.
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