Big as Sky, Small as Bugs

Evening has drawn to a close and nighttime is upon us once again. This is one of those nights where I find myself already stressing about tomorrow and don't really have a reason why. I think about what I want to get accomplished and already am feeling that I won't get any of it done. Negative thinking only gives a negative outcome.

I need to just put the brakes on that way of thinking. Not only the brakes, but I need to put it entirely out of commission before it even takes hold. But how? I put my head into my hand, adopting a Winnie-The-Pooh posture, saying "Think, think, think".

Hmmm, nothing.

I better drink some coffee. With caramel drizzled on top.

But it's nighttime and caffeine is not the wisest of choices. Now, chocolate on the other hand, in small quantity, is perfectly acceptable. I think I have a jar of caramel in the fridge just perfect for dipping.

Okay, back to "think, think, thinking."
And then I decide to do some walk, walk, walking. Dusk was almost complete, the moon was midway in it's ascent to its peak in the night sky, and the sky was giving one final nod to the day nearly done.

What is it about the sounds that fill the evening, the cadence of crickets, the hum and whir of a multitude of other bugs that make me feel even smaller than they are? Not small in a bad way, but small in comparison to the God who created all of this.

What is it about the sheer vastness of the sky that makes me want to soar? To face tomorrow with determination (defined as "a firmness of purpose"~wow, I like that!) not a defeatist mentality.

In my own strength, I am weak. But I am thankful that God, being the creator of crickets and skies, is my strength. I can't explain it. I can't define it. It just is. He just is. I am most likely not going to get everything accomplished tomorrow that I would like, but I can decide to quit being so ridiculously negative about it.

Remind me tomorrow, okay? Keep me accountable. I don't want to write one thing and do another, but boy-oh-boy is it ever difficult sometimes. I think that's another reason I blog; I want to be real and I don't want to present as a "perfect, have-it-all together" woman in public but then struggle and fail in private. When I put the struggles out there, I don't have to hide behind a facade. And it gives me incentive to try, to put my best foot forward, one step at a time, one day at a time.

Psalm 59:16
But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.

Habakkuk 3:19
The Sovereign LORD is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights.

Love,

Dianne

Threads of Dreams

When I dream, I often have recurring themes, or ideas. Like…

…tornadoes, which I dreamt about today while I slept. Usually more than one happens at time and I see them form and circle around where I am. I am not always at my house, but in the dream today, I was home and I made sure I got the kids to the basement, grabbed blankets and my scrapbooks, praying that the rest of the photos would be fine. I am usually near a house or barn in these dreams or I am on a road, walking, always just out of reach.

…middle school. These must've have really been impressionable years for the feelings to still show up years later. Often, these dreams involve my locker; I can't remember the combination or I simply can't remember which one is mine. I am always running late. I always have a pile of books. I am always wearing a dress. I am usually feeling anxious.

…my parent's house. When I dream about my home place, it is never about the house as it is now, it is always as it was when I lived there. We lived in the basement, with the upstairs partially complete until the year I got married. So in these dreams, I am always in the basement. I am usually trying to get ready for school or work and I am focusing on combing my hair, which of course, is never right. I do and re-do my style and I just can't get it right. I usually miss the bus.

…the barn at my grandparents. Usually occurring in the hayloft, I just dream that I am playing there. There is a ledge at the one end where you would throw hay down and when I am dreaming, I usually either jump or fall over that ledge to the hayloft below. I am always barefooted.

…work. I don't like dreaming about work and I usually do the night before I have to actually go to work. These dreams involve forgetting about patients, leaving isolette doors open, occasionally a baby falling to the floor, and falling asleep while working. Stressful dreams and I usually wake up, very relieved that it was just a dream.

…walking in high heels.  I can't. I just can't make my feet go, one in front of the other. They hit it each, one ankle leaning awkwardly to the side. Or my feet are so heavy, that I can barely lift them to take a step. Going up steps is nearly impossible. It usually feels so real and there is always a part of me that always wonders if I really dreamt it or has that ever happened.

Dreams. Weird stuff sometimes that comes out of the subconscious. Whether the threads that run through are actual memories, feelings or just random happenings of a day, it is amazing how the mind puts it together. How it makes perfect, logical sense in a dream, but when you awaken and think about it, it really makes no sense at all.

Dreams. Something to think about. But not too much or I might dream about dreaming and who knows where that would take me.

Love,
Dianne

Favorite Things Today

A Few of My Favorite Things on August 12, 2013

Raindrops on Roses (if I had any blooming)

Downpours and downspouts 

that keep my blossoms from drooping

Two lovely daughters that help with the beans…..

These are a few of my favorite things.

Lots of fresh produce

from my own garden,

green beans 

and squashes 

and lovely bell peppers,

Don't forget the cucumbers

climbing on vines…

these are a few of my favorite things. 

My first gladiola

pink as can be.

Words aren't really necessary 

as you can see. 

This is one of my favorite things. 

Then there's the zinnias,

all so very snappy

making me smile 

and feeling so happy.

And last but not least

are my $2 bottles,

bought at a rainy day auction.

Lined up in rows 

on my kitchen windowsill,

awaiting a project or two or three. 

And these are a few of my favorite things….

to keep my mind in a happy frame of thought 

as I go off to work….

Love,

Dianne

A Peek Into My Sunday

And this, my friends, is how to spend a Sunday afternoon...

Relaxing at Deep Creek Lake…

with the two youngest kids wishing their mom would stop taking pictures.

Relaxing and reading a Duck Dynasty book in the shade…

Leo doesn't like the sun much. 

Poor guy. 

I, on the other hand, enjoyed soaking up the rays of sunshine,

which have been in short supply as of late. 

Ah yes, me and a Kate Morton novel. 

The little guy got into it, literally. 

Heather buried him and he stayed put for all of 7.8 seconds. 

Though it took him a while to get into the water (which was cold!),

he finally did and worked on a castle and moat. 

Then it was time to head out towards home,

but not before the car swung into Katie's for Ice-Cream.

Oh Sum-sum-summertime, 

I love summertime. 

A pumpkin pie flurry…

First time having one, but not the last. 

Mmmmmmm……

(See Heather, I posted one of me too!)

Detour on the way home at my parents.

Fun with a cousin is on the menu. 

Bubbles...

…and hide-and-go-seek.

Gotcha!

Sam's turn to hide as Ryan seeks.

 Sam, hiding in plain sight, exclaiming, "Here I am!"

when Ryan just couldn't seem to find him. 

And this is just because everyone needs a little silly face to end their day with:

Really, I just don't know where they get this from. 

Love and Happy Sunday!

Dianne

Riding Backwards in A Car

The scent of buttery popcorn mingled with the sounds of children as they wiggled and giggled in their seats. My illegal coffee was nested in the seat beside me and Ryan was on the other side, sipping on his Dr Pepper. The lights went down and the volume went up; soon we were taken into the world of Planes, the new Disney movie.

We swooped along with the planes; we were in the clouds one second and zooming across the tops of the trees the next. I don't think I could have survived 3D. There is just something about watching a movie on a big screen that makes me a little bit carsick. I even take motion sickness pills before going to the theater. I know, it sounds silly to me too.

I used to never get motion sickness. Ever. As a young adult, I'd enjoy reading or doing counted cross-stitch on long trips. Traveling was a time to relax and catch up on some reading while someone else drove. Now, I usually drive so I don't get queasy.

There was another thing my sisters and I would do in the car, as kids, that would make me sick nowadays. We would sit backwards. That's right. Backwards and no seat belts. But then again, how else were we to play Runaway Caboose?

Influenced by a Monday night episode of Little House and the Prairie, Kim, Roxanne and myself (ake Mary, Carrie and Laura) would pretend to be in the back of the runaway caboose. As we careened along the "track", we would use the seat-belts to hold onto as we sat backwards. We weren't allowed to touch anything else with our hands, just the seatbelt. The goal was to not fall down between the seats.

Ah, yes the good ol' days.

And now, as I careen down this crazy highway called "Life" I have my seatbelt firmly latched and a few Dramamine tablets in my pocket.

Love,
Dianne

Shakespeare and The Vet

I begged, I pleaded,

"To the vet I must go!

Vaccinations are needed

and a stool sample: Oh no!"

The sky has been cloudy,

the rain has been falling,

my coat is all muddy

despite the towel rubbing.

My lady showed distress as I went in her car,

jumping and bouncing (me, not her).

She called me "stubborn"

and I aimed to prove right,

stamping and pawing

as I gave quite a fight. 

(However as you can see, I Shakespeare, would appear to be quite docile.

I like that word. Docile. 

Describes me perfectly I'd say, but the other words rhymed better. 

Or so my ladyship said.)

My lady says "looks are deceiving"; 

I say "pictures don't lie". 

 (Dianne here, Shakespeare's Editor-in-Chief. 

He was quite energetic in the car, which is putting it mildly.

That's why I took both Heather and Ryan along. Shakespeare thinks he can drive and becomes quite problematic is he enters the front seat. 

Okay Shakespeare, carry on, but remember I am watching you.)

At the vet, I was entranced by the others I met,

a beagle, a terrier, and even the vet.

A German Shepherd was the king of them all

and I met them all calmly with a wag of my tail. 

I needed a few reminders of 

"Just let it be."

but my ladyship was just so proud of me.

I was all smiles as I waited a while

I did not know what was next on the docket

How was I to know what the vet had in her pocket?

Nay, not a cat treat,

thought that would have sufficed.

Nay, twas a shot,

not just once, but twice. 

 I got weighed,

I got measured.

My vitals were stable

as I stood on the table.

(By the way, do you know where they take a temperature from?!)

Soon I was done and with  praise and some pats,

came a handful of biscuit

and a scratch of my back.

Home again,

home again

and oh, what a day!

I think I'll take a wee rest 

and ponder it all

for I heard of a rumor that involved not a groomer, 

but a return visit in three to four weeks hence

which involves being "fixed"

I wish I knew what it meant. 

Love to all,

Shakespeare the "Bard"er Collie

And Dianne, Editor-in-Chief

A Good Day To Iron

Today is a good day for ironing. Not a favorite chore, but yet not a dreaded one. It's more just a chore that I procrastinate with until I have to do it. Then, other than dress pants which I detest ironing, I find it relaxing. I don't know why I don't just iron right away. Maybe it is like fixing the bed; it just feels like a waste of time. After all, it will just get wrinkly again.

I am getting better at hanging things up to dry or using the "wrinkle release" on the dryer, but I still always end up with items that need either a touch-up or a full on hot iron to release the stubborn wrinkles. I now know why my mother seldom bought 100% cotton.

I like try to iron my uniforms for work (but only if they really need it). I do not iron bras, underwear, bed sheets, pajamas or exercise clothes. Or t-shirts, unless they are looking exceptionally bad. Or socks. Never have I ironed a sock.

Leo tried to iron a tie once. Fail.

To show my issues with ironing procrastination, I have a confession to make. When we were first married, I had a spare room that I kept the ironing board set up in all the time. There was no excuse not to iron, but most of what needed ironed were Leo's church pants. I would hang the wrinkled items on a window curtain rod and there they would stay until I or Leo needed that article of clothing.  I had a dress there for so long that the side facing outside was completely faded. A grey dress with a lovely almost washed out looking white stripe down the side. Needless to say, that did not end the procrastination; it only served to have me hang the laundry somewhere else to await it's turn on the board.

Today, as it is raining outside, I figured why not. It is a good day for ironing. And thus I watched a movie (The Prizewinner of Defiance, Ohio ~ a good movie based on a true story) and I ironed.

I even survived to procrastinate another day

Love,
Dianne