You Know You're An Adult When...

you are folding laundry when you realize you have folded a towel the wrong way!

you cringe expecting to get thumped on the head or chastised in some way

and

when nothing happens

you giggle a little gleefully

and place said towel on the stack

even though

all of the other towels are folded the way your mum showed you

and your OCD gets really annoyed



I love having my own house

end of short story

Just My Head

Weird things go through my head sometimes. I don't even have to be physically ill to have a muddled head or think strange thoughts. They simply pop up of their own accord, wander around for a couple seconds and vanish.

This morning, as I washed dishes, wrote letters and ate my breakfast of toast with peanut butter with a little (a lot? ::sheepish::) Nutella, listening to the soundtrack from Life of Pi, my thoughts ranged anywhere from:

"Ahhhhh! Because of the internet, there is ABSOLUTELY no privacy in this world any longer!!! Let's all go hide amongst the rocks and pray that the mountains fall on us!!!! Let me eat my toast first. Can't let Nutella go to waste."

to

"I love that Jesse refuses to eat yogurt. And when I try to feed him pills, we always drop the pill on the floor. Clumsy us. Oh! That time when Jesse decided that blowing off the pill wasn't good enough and he had to rinse it off. Haha! He was like, 'oh no! Now I have pill goo on my fingers!'"

to

"A very french sound in an Eastern Indian soundtrack... Hm. Strange. Correlation between Indian sounds and French sounds... I thought the British took over India. Not the French. I'll have to make sure and look that up on Wikipedia when I get the chocolate washed off my hands."

to

"What does faith mean for me, exactly? Does that mean a blind faith? Or a faith mixed with reason? Or perhaps both. This requires more thought. Mm. Peanut butter is way more palatable when combined with chocolate!"

You see that sarcasm has a comfortable home in my head.

I have to make this jumbled head be still so I can actually get anything done. Admittedly, there are moments when I don't want categorized thoughts. I want to indulge; flitting from one thought to the next brings such clarity at times. But there are responsibilities to be met, bills to be paid, hopes to be hoped, work to be done.

I need to pack for our short trip tomorrow. My camera's battery is being charged, the gifts are all on the pink couch and the cards written. Now, I need to get my clothes in order.

Just in case you're thinking that I eat Nutella all the time, allow me to assure you that I only have it on rare occasions. Why, you ask? It's so good!! Yes, indeed.... but there are 2 reasons I refrain from frequent eating of Nutella: 1 -- It's not good for the waistline. 2 -- When there are long periods of time between feastings, I enjoy Nutella more.

Darn it. I sound like an adult. 

On Adulthood, Responsibilities and Kittens

You may be wondering at the lack of posts. So have I. Each time I open my blog to write, there is nothing in my head to write about. That does not mean that nothing is happening. Everything is happening. Lol. Life kicked into gear and is taking us on what feels like a roller coaster ride. It feels good to work, even if I don't want to get up in the morning. Knowing that I've helped put food on the table or, that extra is being put away for renovations or trips, feels really good. And to have a husband who has the strength and character to maintain a steady job is a real God-send.

Life has been a bit bumpy for us the last couple of months. One thing after another. Bills, bills upon more bills. Not much income coming in for a month or so. God provided for us, though. And, we are happy. We have grown closer together; love being a sweet, sweet thing. I am so thankful.

Among the hiccups have been some amusing moments. For instance: we live on the Whitebear Resort, which is lovely. We have to get our water hauled in. Most of us resort people have big water tanks which are filled by a water hauler once a month, or as often as needed. As you well know, my sister Lydia came to live with us in June. Since then, our water consumption has been more. Which means that our tank empties at a faster rate. However, we never seem to calculate this. The past three months, we've ran out of water. Each time, there has been some reason we can't get water for approximately three days. That's an interesting state of affairs. That means having to use the outhouse or the great outdoors/thick underbrush repeatedly for 72  hours. (Please tell me there aren't any rabid skunks in the neighborhood!) Also, this means we have to run over to Jesse's parents house for water to drink. Thankfully, the previous owners of the house left a nice 7 gallon water container for such emergencies. (Jesse  likes to haul this around full so I can see his muscles pop out.) (I love his muscles.) You may be asking why this situation proves so amusing to me. 5 words: Three months in a row.

We took part in the play put on by Cornerstone Theatre. On Friday, my father-in-law and a friend were trying to bring an elderly patron upstairs via the elevator. It promptly broke, of course, and since there were several other waiting riders, they had to fix it. After they had been gone for awhile, my husband went to see if how the repairs were progressing ... and found them locked in the elevator. Through the glass, they tried to give Jesse instructions. Doug said, "You need to find the emergency key for the elevator..."  At that moment, my father-in-law held up something and remarked, "I think it's in here with us." Doug actually banged his head against the wall. Then he remembered there was a second one... Jesse had them out before five minutes had passed. Lol. They were the tech crew for the play, too. Invaluable to the production. Kinda scary when you think about it. Haha!

Then there's teaching; 17 students. Christmas planning. Jesse's birthday planning. Trying to not get the cold that Lydia is getting over and Jesse is coming down with.

On top of it all is Mr. Fox. 

\
Jesse's cousin discovered a very miserable kitten hanging around their porch last week. She thought it was a she. And she thought she should bring this wee, adorable feline over to my inlaws' place. My mil and sil in turn thought of Lydia, who had mentioned wanting a cat. Long story short, "she" turned into a "he" and his name is "Mr. Fox". He is cute, small, about 6 weeks old, has no horrible diseases and Snow is even starting to like him. ;-)

So, life in all it's wonderful busy-ness... Love it. Hate it. Revel in it. I'm living every day with my love and life is goodness. :-) 

Dress-up and Old Hats

What is it about girls and dress-up? Little girls carrying purses as big as they are, sporting long dresses that fall off at both shoulders and whose hems are tripped over each step, even though the young wearer uses her free hand to hold up one side.

It's beautiful, really. And I'm not the only one who has thought so. I remember reading Grandma's Attic and Little Women, wishing I had the same selection of shawls, lovely gowns and fans... even the corsets sounded like great fun. And we haven't gotten to the hoops. Who of Arleta Richardson's readers doesn't remember Sarah Jane and Mabel's adventures with the old hoops they found in one of their attics? I vividly remember my Mom reading that story out loud to us for the first time because she laughed so hard while reading it that she had tears running down her face. :-)

But it isn't only the authors who have immortalized little girls dressing up, many artists have captured the innocent fun and glory of the brief time we have as children. And for most of us, some of that time is parading around in Mom's or Grandma's old clothes. Scattering shoes as we go and getting our trains stuck as we go around a corner.

[Note to newer mothers: never let dress-up girls around anything that's glass. The girls are innocent but the clothes have a mean sense of humor.]

Norman Rockwell and Paula Vaughn are two artists I especially think of when the words “dress-up” come to mind. Both artists' work is excellent but in different ways: Norman Rockwell caught the innocence and the humor of it; Paula Vaughn caught the dreaminess, sweetness and beauty. Both understood how vital dress-up is for little girls... and boys, in some cases. :-)

Now me, well, I'm still not quite an adult. I haven't got that solemn, mature aura that exudes from those fortunate beings. No... not really, I'm afraid. I'm quite in love with dressing up and I've just had a wee bit of a taste of how in love I am.

You've heard me mention “Ladies Time Out”, an outreach of our church for ladies in the neighborhood. This year, it's about the 50's and people from our church are all trying to scrounge for everything they have from that era. (My Grandma is bringing her wedding dress!) I was talking to our neighbor about it and she said that her grandmother saved everything she ever wore. Instantly, I was all ears.

1: How does anybody do that? [When I'm finished wearing something, it's because it's falling apart at the seams.]

2: Could I please borrow anything she might have had from the 50's?

Our neighbor said, of course and just recently, she sent over a bagful of lovely hats. I am in heaven. :-D And so are my little sisters and one of my brothers (Hannah, Ellie, Lydia and Martha are excluded from that number, being inducted into the grown-up sphere long ago) (Jesse and Zeke... well, what can I say?). This morning, I decided that Ruth, Uriah and I were going to have a photo shoot with these hats just in case there is someone else out there who likes them as much as we do. I have two I especially like... a cream one (my favorite) and a black velvet one.

Most of these hats, to my surprise, were made to be worn resting on top of a bun or twist. I find that charming... I hadn't thought of hats being made that way since the early 1900's. I love wearing these hats. The way they shape to the head, with the netting daintily falling over over the eyes and gently brushing the bridge of my nose makes me feel very feminine. The hats of this time are also very demure. I've never cared for hats that have huge brims... for all of their usefulness in keeping the sun off, they simply scream, “Look at me!” But the 50's hats, if worn with the proper apparel, allows the wearer to feel attractive but not as if she were the attraction.

We took some of our pictures downstairs, then Ri and Ruth went outside to play, so I decided to go upstairs and use a mirror to help me take some self photographs. Lydia has a junk fan in her room that lets the air be circulated. It's so wimpy that it isn't a problem... usually. I've always gone around it before but this time, with my arms full of hats and camera, I got tangled up in it. I stopped the fan and me. It shredded the deluxe President's Choice white plastic bag I had the hats in and somehow almost broke my big toe. I'm still not sure what happened, other than my toe still hurts and by the time I finally managed to make it upstairs (I hate those stairs!) I was crying/laughing because 1: it hurt so bad and 2: it was so ridiculous. Pure Naomi. You do not want to be me. Lol!

[Note to self: when arms are full and in vicinity of fan, refrain from going about stocking-footed on cement floor.]

But I recovered sufficiently to pose and take pictures of myself. The fact that none of them are phenomenal shots can be blamed on my suffering member. Aren't the hats darling though? :-)

Does anyone have a favorite era of hats? Do you get to wear hats on a regular basis? Can you order hats new from somewhere or do they all come from our grandmother's attics? Does anyone else out there over the age of 20 like to play dress-up? :-) :-)

Now, I must digress. If it wasn't for the fact that I have so many young siblings who love to dress-up, it wouldn't be half so much fun for me to act immature. :-) But I'm so glad I have I have a chance to have fun like this. Not many people have been given the gift I have been given: 10 brothers and sisters who love me in spite of me. :-)