Monday, March 18, 2013

{little things}

it wasn't a good day- this certain day.
it was full of frustration, tears, anxiousness.
much, much anxiousness.

'Casting all your care upon Him'
wasn't even convincing...

the 'old folks' did their cheery magic for the few hours i was there.
the house was still dirty when i got home.
like old broccoli smelly.
{where does that smell come from}
oh, right- the fridge,
maybe i should clean it out
once in a while...
dirty clothes, spread thick on the edges of
the bedroom floor
and the bathroom-
lets not go there.

the fabric arrived for the dress
that is to be worn in 3 weeks.
totally un-ready. 
when it was supposed to have went to the seamstress it got sent back to me.
and. i do not sew.
well, barely.

april 15 was creeping closer.
and the book work 
was lagging.
tax season is upon us.

the kitchen.
yes, 3 maybe 4 days of dishes piled high
on the yellow counter tops.
crusty and dry.

and my head was in over load mode.

the Etsy store.
the orders felt astounding.
i couldn't do it all.

and the very thought of 
making green bean casserole for 28 people the next day 
sent me into near heart failure.

every corner of my house was yelling at me.
and i had to leave. get out- so
i left a note and i walked out of my house.
the note said.

' i will be back in 3 or 4 or 5

thats all. just enough to give 
a man a freak attack when he walks in and sees it
resting on the washer where i left it.

with in 30 minutes i got a message saying.
' ... but if you're not here, i can't help you figure 
it out.'

so i came home to open arms, many more tears, and big hugs.
and promises of help. and a nap.

and one friend said- let me sew that dress.
and one friend said- i will help you clean your house.
and James painted those signs.
( we shut down the store - for now.)

and then i realized that maybe i hadn't finished that verse. 
it ends with a statement.

... for he careth for you.
and He knows how many hairs are in our head, 
and he even notices when one falls out.

and He does. He careth for me. you. us. them.
and he knows every little detail.

What do you do when you feel completely and terrifyingly
overwhelmed? I need some ideas...

Right now, I am taking every single sweet day, one at a time.
trying i should say.
its not easy.
but i have concluded that the dishes 
won't run away...

Tuesday, March 5, 2013


days of windows flung wide open, air floating by with blossom covered scents...dogs little padded feet landing with soft thuds as they do their circle thing and the plop as they lay down in the sun soaked spot,  screen doors, the muted sound of traffic, no more; now you hear the sound of tires on pavement, of pounding bass through open car windows cruising by... laughter of kids on bikes... train whistles- distinctly echo-ing... its clear.
these sounds are clear.
the windows are open.
{source. a tulip tree}

and we feel it in our deepest bones that something great, and marvelous has touched this part of the earth and sprinkled it with love and pixie dust and new things are abounding...
every day another blossom pushes its bright pink self into the sun, the daffodils long ago poked out and now bask every day in the warm grass, getting greener by the minute as i hear the familiar 'whir' as another sprinkler pops up to soak it in the liquid that it all to soon will demand, so much that even the tiniest corner that does not receive it will turn brown as the dirt...  acres and acres and acres of white fluffiness, look temptingly like a far removed specimen of snow- when you cross over the busyness of the free-way on that thing called an over-pass you see them. the almond orchards. crazy in bloom, full of wonder, for as far as my  eyes can see those once bleak looking pods have broken loose and now, too, stare at the sun, waiting for the rest to join them...
 its spring time here...
and i am basking in its gloriousness with a plugged nose and drippy eyes, swallowing any kind of decongestant i can get my hands on...
oh its glorious.
But have you ever breathed pollen from a million trees for days on end?
yes? no?
i want to start to complain
but then i look out side my window and say
with weather like this and warm 75 degree sun, and windows flung wide open and bare feet becoming standard 'foot-wear' -
whats 200 Sudafed. or 156 Mucinex

{almond orchard in full bloom}