My New Friend, Vera

My mother and sister have been toting these busy, quilted bags for a few years. Apparently, such bags (of assorted sizes with other little coordinating baggies) were deemed quite stylish. To me, the bags looked like quilt scraps, and I was completely unimpressed.
Of course, I would personally choose an $8 Wal-Mart pocketbook, and then carry it until it was too ragged to be acceptable at even the homeless shelter. My other rationale was not to spend more on a pocketbook than the amount of cash I typically carry in it.
Then, one day, we enter the Vera Bradley store ONLY to purchase some summer jammies. Not the Victoria’s Secret, slinky kind of stuff – the slumber party, hanging with your girlfriend jammies. And, they were on sale.
We find the correct sizes, and then I notice LOTS of 50%-off signs around the story. OK – I still am not on board with the quilted bags. Suddenly, I see THE pattern – it is a lovely fuchsia and green – not too flowery, and jus the perfect shades. Of course, we find a matching coin purse, luggage tag, small clutch, ID holder and backpack.
At this point, I tell Rick I am entering foreign territory, and I fear I am in danger of the impending world takeover. You know, the one where everyone is playing Candy Crush on iPhones, while wearing Toms and carrying Vera bags. I beg Rick to please restrain me, sedate me – whatever means are necessary – if I appear to come close to any Toms shoes or accept a Facebook invitate for Candy Crush. I must maintain my individualism somehow.
Vera also had a gift with purchase item, so I received 2 beautiful beach towels in appreciation for my monetary exchange for the assorted quilted bags and pouches.
I do have to admit, the new bags are prettier and more feminine than the military-grade, 3-day bug out bag I have been accustomed to carrying (even as much as I love the big, black bag). And, the “girly” bags do go nicely with my dresses and sandals.
I’m still not playing Candy Crush.

Peeves That Shouldn’t be Pets

I know we each have things in life that cause annoyance, frustration, bouts of screaming and thrashing, et cetera. I certainly don’t believe they should be called pets.

Pets are creatures we chose and welcome into our lives. We nurture them, and in return, they show us love. Why anyone would call a peeve a pet totally confuses me.

Here is my primary list of things I absolutely despise:

1. Being ignored. If I speak to you, it is polite to respond in some verbal manner. Rolling your eyes, turning away or pretending I’m Wonder Woman’s invisible plane are not deemed appropriate. Additionally, if you ignore me, I will speak to you more often, making it increasingly difficult (yet more amusing to me) for you to stay in your little bubble.
2. Someone thinking I’m stupid. Doing stupid things is quite different than actually being stupid. While I have done more than my entire family’s fair share of stupid things, I rarely repeat them. I try to be creative in my stupid actions. (Well, except for having weddings. I did repeat that multiple times. In my defense, it’s a fun way to dress up and get presents. Don’t worry – my family has finally cut me off from weddings.) However, I consider myself to be reasonably intelligent, so if someone approaches me thinking I have an IQ of 71, I suddenly lose my cheery disposition.
3. “We’ve always done it that way.” This statement tells me several things. First, the person doesn’t know why they are doing what they are doing. Second, the person has likely never had an original thought. Ever. Next, I wonder how exactly that is working for them. They have the same results. They are unhappy with the results. The results are not productive. Can we look at the process? No. This is the way we do things.

I honestly do not know which peeve I hate more, but I don’t want to keep any of them in my home.

I wonder if we could begin a trend with an adjective that more appropriately describes the peeves. Maybe vexatious. Now, vexatious just looks good on paper. It has that cool “word of the day” sound like “metamorphosis” or “cacophony”. Peeves are completely troublesome and annoying, the very essence of vexatious.

Join with me and the pets we love, and spread the word – Peeves are not pets; they are now and forevermore vexatious.

 

Why I Hate the Cold

I am NOT a cold-weather person. I am a native Texas girl. Although I was mildly amused with the first heavy snowfall during our move to Missouri when I was 9 or 10, I don’t think I really enjoyed the winters we spent living around Springfield or Kansas City.

I live around Dallas for a reason. It doesn’t usually get much snow or ice. We are too far north for the hurricanes to reach. We don’t really have earthquakes. (Well, I used to be able to say that, but we do have the occasional small one that knocks over an unbalanced throw pillow.) We don’t have a lot of tornados. (Another example of what I USED to say. We recently had a devastating tornado experience in my area.) Spring has bluebonnets, and summer lasts until my birthday in October.

Dressing for the cold weather is a lot of work. Donning layers consumes too much time in the mornings when I would rather sleep (where it’s warm under my covers). It’s enough work to create a work ensemble with coordinating pieces without having to locate additional corresponding pieces. Also, all those extra layers just make me look fat(ter).

Wearing a coat, hat, gloves and scarf is not comfortable or conducive for driving. I’m doing well on a good day to see over the dash, but with more objects blocking my view, and I’m no longer safe to drive. (Please don’t tell the people who issue the company car to me.)

These items can cause additional dangers. I was exiting my car on a cold day. I shut the door, and started walking towards the house. I was on my second step from the car, when I was abruptly pulled back to my car. Why? My scarf was caught in the door of the car. This never happens in warm weather.

I’m not a pleasant person in the cold. I try to tell everyone I encounter, “It isn’t you, it’s the weather. You’ll like me better in the Spring, I promise.”

Call me when I thaw.

Perspective

Before Christmas, I was having my usual bout of seasonal sadness. This year was more difficult than prior years, simply due to circumstances. I should preface with the fact that I am EXTREMELY happy on most days. This has been an amazing year for personal growth and progress. However, the temporary depressive mode tends to hit me regardless.

It is always a battle during the holidays to arrange the “swapping of the kids”. You would think after 13 years of the same process for Christmas holiday celebrations, it would be routine. No. As such, I was worried that I would not get to visit with my youngest for the Christmas Eve gathering with my side of the family.

I missed my personal Christmas decorations. I missed my hundreds of snowmen. I missed my Christmas dishes. I missed my mantle décor. I missed having control of my living space.

My new job had been busy, but the experience had been intensely unorganized. Each day was a new adventure in cleaning messes and chasing after answers that were non-existent. I was wearing scrubs, and driving miles and miles – all because someone else wouldn’t do it.

As I was pining about my tremendous hardships, I was on my way to a lady’s house. She is a sweet and remarkable woman with a loving family. The love between all the generations was amazing. She is intelligent, witty, and likely any other positive attribute I would admire in a woman. And, she has advanced cancer. Despite her condition and prognosis, she focused on celebrating with her family and having a positive attitude.

Epiphany moment!! I am surrounded by loving friends and family. If I’m not geographically close to anyone, I can phone or text them for moral and spiritual support. I have two beautiful grandsons (that are likely the cutest on the planet, but I keep that to myself). If this sweet lady can smile each day, why am I moaning?

We all have our down moments. Sadness hurts, and it’s ok to hurt. I needed the reminder that maybe my hurt wasn’t as deep as I initially thought. Maybe I need to focus more on the blessings I have.

Hope After Failure

We all plan for various scenarios in life – relationships, employment, finances, children. However, despite the most intense planning and anticipating potential outcomes, there are times an unexpected outcome is overwhelmingly devastating.
As we watched the big game this past Sunday, we saw exactly that. Seattle was ahead, and appeared ready to score again, securing the Championship title. Coach Carroll looked at the line up of the defense, which included a formation of eight huge men. Although his talent included Marshall Lynch, the coach determined the odds were not in their favor to run the ball on that play. What happened has already been noted as possibly the worst call in football history.
It isn’t as if Seattle has not had great success in recent seasons. The team has the trophy from the game this time last year. Their defense for last season was considered one of the best in the Super Bowl era. They have made the playoffs in 9 of 13 seasons.
But, what happens when our dreams seemingly die in front of our eyes? What is the next step?
For anyone who has experienced the unexpected, we understand this is a difficult process. We hoped for something incredible, and failed. However, failure does not have to be an end.
2 Corinthians chapter 4
16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
At this point in the life of Paul, his body was becoming weak, but he focused on the power of his God and the hope he had for eternity. This focus allowed his spirit to become stronger, despite the conflicts he faced. In all, he didn’t give up.
When the song writer Horatio Spafford wrote the words to the amazing hymn, It is well with my soul, he allowed himself to grieve for what was lost, then focused on hope.
1. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
o Refrain:
It is well with my soul,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
2. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
So, just remember –
We have tomorrow. We have next season. We have hope.

Encounters with family during home visits: Wednesday monologue by the Wife

Sometimes, it is refreshing to listen to someone speak. Maybe it’s lack of effort and motivation. Today, it was the absence of any possible response from me that would appease the spouse of someone I was visiting, and also the guilty pleasure of hoping she somehow, comparatively, made me appear “normal”.

Here is the (one-sided) conversation coming from the kitchen:

You, in there. You’re not the one he rides with. That girl – he’s not her boyfriend OR her father. But, she ain’t coming back. She’s laying up there in the morgue.

You need to write your name and number down here on this paper, so I can get you off the list at 2 PM.

We’re trying to get him to stop smoking. We’ve tried tobacco, gum, patches and orange marshmallows. NOTHING is working. But, when he stops, we’ll be ready to get that $2000 you’ll pay us for quitting.

Here’s your coffee mug. I don’t want you thinking I stole it. It’s from Baylor Hospital Exotic Tea Company. Oh, and don’t forget the lid.

(My inside voice – Nod. Smile. Wave goodbye.)