An Amusing Easter Story

I think I've mentioned once, or nine-thousand times, that I'm a bit of a dweller.  When I get something in my head, I have a lot of difficulty thinking about something else until I've worked that "something" out.  So while my head has been running the same race track, my head managed to forget that I see and experience a hundred funny things a day. 

And who doesn't want to see (or read) something hilarious?  (And honestly?  I would rather laugh with people than just about anything in the world.)

So let's take for example the man Chris and I met when we drove to Target today to purchase curtain rods for the impending bedroom makeover (pictures to come--of my bedroom...of COURSE I have pictures of this situation).

I know you can't see a ton in this picture, so I got close ups.  But first I would like to point out a few things:

1.  I am not a photographer (nor do I care to be).
2.  Those are toy, fabric flowers attached to his hood with a handpainted "Easter" sign.
3.  Yes, that is an Easter Bunny in a "car" set bungeed to his hood.

Don't believe me?

You'd think that's about as wacky as it could get, right?  I mean, who would go any further than to bungee an Easter bunny to the top of a car?

Probably the same guy who decorates the back of his car with Easter eggs.

(Seriously.)

(They were strung together with twine.)

(In varying colors.)

(You can't make this crap up.)

(And as if it didn't get any more bizarre...)

He's U.S. Air Force retired.

Which I, for some reason, found amusing hilariously entertaining.

I guess the point of this story is that the world is a pretty funny place...

If you can open your eyes enough to see it (behind the lens of a camera, especially!).

The Elusive Curtains

I finally found curtains for my master bedroom (and it only took a year). They are the perfect color (I think), the perfect size (here's hoping) and they were the perfect price (thermal, blackout curtains for $25 a panel!). Favorite and I will be hanging them on Saturday so stay tuned for some before/after action. (And feel free to make suggestions for impending artwork or furniture. I'd like to finish one room in my house before the end of summer.

They Call Him PORK...

My dog has gotten a little...substantial.  His name is Archimedes, but my dad has recently insisted on calling him Hogamedes or Porkimedes so maybe substantial isn't really the word I'm looking for.

He's gotten tubby.

And I didn't notice because he's also fluffy and I think his tubbiness has happened over the course of a year or so.

When my dad pointed it out, I got all insulted because my dog?  Isn't fat!  He's happy.  Very happy.  And cute.  And fluffy.  And holy-cow-he's-the-size-of-a-bassett-hound.  (Even though he's only supposed to a 20 lb shih tzu.)

I noticed it when I saw him waddling from the back.  Trust me, here.  Waddling is what he does.  He can't even run without his backend sashaying all over the place.

So I started trying to account for his extra girth.

We weren't feeding him extra.  He wasn't getting extra biscuits.  Was Favorite feeding him off the table?

I confronted him and implied that is exactly what was happening.  Favorite informed me that outside of the occasional apple, Porky wasn't getting extras.

Then it hit me.

Favorite dumps our leftover food outside in order to keep our trash from smelling horrific.  When we let our little fluffball outside to do his "business," he was making his way to the dumped food and gladly helping himself.

Needless to say, we are no longer dumping food, and he's being deprived of his 7,000 calorie-a-day diet.

A few biscuits and one scoop of food a day.  That's all he gets now.  He can forage all he wants.

Maybe soon we'll call him Barky again.

The Wisdom of Words

Why do people always think they're being so wise when they say things like "God may not provide for you the way you want Him to."  Or "He may not answer your prayers the way you're hoping He will."

For the record, you're not being wise.  You're being cryptic.  And those are two different things entirely.

James says, "But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy" (3:17).

Maybe the best wisdom is a word "fitly spoken" instead of one that attempts to show wisdom that isn't necessarily true or beneficial (Prov. 25:11).

June Bugs, Guests Posts and the Art of Giving Up

I'm jealous because the Pioneer Woman never writes about blog slumps.  Young House Love always has some cool, new project to share with the world.  And I?  Struggle to write anything interesting, but all I have is the story about how a june bug crawled up my pant leg while I was driving home last night and I had to hold my pant leg with one hand while I tried to fish him out with the other and what hand was I using to steer, you ask?  That would be my chin.  Because I CAN.NOT.DRIVE.WITH.A.BUG.IN.MY.PANTS.  Ew. Gross. Andwhateverexpletiveisappropriateforjunebugscrawlingupyourpants.

Through my slump, though, I've been wondering when it's good or appropriate to toss in the towel.  The last few months of my life have been proof that God doesn't ask us to soldier through everything, and I've just been wondering where the line is drawn?

I keep trying to strike this weird balance between hopeful and realistic and one doesn't necessarily support the other--which is a strange balance to navigate.  Realism says that some things will never change while hope keeps pointing out all the strange surprises that have infiltrated the lives of others.

I have a good life.  Favorite believes it is his job to provide above and beyond for us.  I have a beautiful home.  (It still doesn't have pictures on the wall.  Anyone want to come help hang the pictures?  I'm terrified I'm going to ruin the drywall, because I have to rearrange them so many times.)  I have plenty of clothes.  We eat well, and I have enjoyed cooking.  (I wish I didn't enjoy eating nearly as much...)  I have a tightly knit family unit that is inclusive and appreciative of the people we've been given.  (Even though I'm pretty sure PastorJosh is my dad's new-best-girlfriend...it's an amusing dynamic.)

All of those things are really fantastic things.  Things that make a lot of people envious.  And I really look like I've been custom planted in the middle of a fantastic garden.

But sometimes I find it difficult to focus on those things.  Instead,
*  I want to quit writing because it never turns out the way I had envisioned.
*  I want to scream, "OK, PCOS, you win.  I'll stay fat and it will be Favorite and I and no one else."
*  I want to make all of the snarky comments I manage to withhold from regular conversation.

Anyway...

In the near future, I'd like to start a series of guest posts--maybe one a week or so.  I've asked BigBro to participate.  (He's an engineer, but wait until you read his clean, neat prose.)  I'm also open to including anyone else without a blog who has something that may work on A Life in Ordinary (which means the door is pretty open since no topic has been off-limits here).

Email me if you're interested.  I'll be in the field shooting the horse so I don't have to get on it again, but I promise to get back to you.

  

Introducing: Atley Black

I doubt I'm the first person to discover her, but that doesn't keep me from really loving her voice.  (And honestly wishing she had a thousand albums on itunes.)

(On a side note, she's from St. Joe, MO--so if my family out there meets her, please tell her I'm a huge fan, and I'd love to sing backup for her some day!)

Just wanted to share something I'm lovin' at the moment.  I have a thing for singer/songwriters, but this girl reminded me exactly why I love simple voices and acoustic guitars:

For Eyes to See

Earlier this week, PastorJosh posted this article. 

I fully believe we have the obligation to forward it to every Pastor, layman and Christian we know.  Bob Merritt reminded me, today, of the necessity of humility.  It's a lesson that bears repeating.  And repeating.  And repeating.

Merritt states, "Bill Hybels once said, 'The way I was doing God's work was destroying the work of God in me.'"  Who can't relate to that sentiment? 

Merritt continues, "When you hear the same themes repeated over and over again from a variety of people who've experienced what it's like to be on the other side of you, it gets your attention. You can hear the same themes from your kids or spouse, but you tend to blow it off, because you assume they're just ticked off at something or they are being hyper critical. You hear it, but you dismiss it."

I'm grateful for those people in my life--the ones who were willing to realign my sight when the bigger picture wasn't clear.  The ones who wouldn't allow me to dismiss vital information that changed me and changed the direction I was headed.  And I pray that we are all open to those words when they come, because I know how easy it is to push them aside and pretend the people offering the clear picture are walking outside God's will.

Sometimes the ugly truth is just that--ugly.  But it doesn't mean it's any less true.  When I've seen it staring at me from my mirror, it was a difficult reality to confront.   Unfortunately, it's impossible to cure a problem when we aren't treating the root of that problem. 

And the treatment begins with a willingness to see.