Miss Olivia June and my Mid-Life Crisis

Meet Miss Olivia June .
She is MY new 1973 Volkswagon bug. newly
rebuilt engine, new transmission. new tires, and she hits 75 mph like a dream. over the past several months i have been saving money in my own "Bug" account at the Bank. i roughly have about 600.00 in that account. Come next summer i may have enough to actually purchase one.

Last evening Rob "got a call from a freind" so Rob asked if i would mind them getting together... of course i said sure... i fiddle faddled about the house was getting ready for bed at nearly 9:30 and the phone rang. Justin told me Pop needed me outside to help him with something.... in my mind i am thinking... what new techo device would welcome my home.

I walk outside as Rob is driving up in "Olivia June" wearing a huge smile. now what in the world did i do... i stood there as my mother would say "like a Bastard calf" and stared. i didnt move, say a word, shake my head.. i was trying to figure out what was happening... inside the silent war went a little something like this... NO STINKING WAY!!!!!!.... then, OF OCURSE IT IS MINE... ROB CHERISHES ME..... NO STINKING WAY... NUH UH!!! YES ITS REAL THIS IS VERY LIKE ROB TO LOVE ME THIS WAY.....REALLY? ITS MINE....? about then Rob Askes me... "Well?" and i realized that the reaction i was having now was very much the reaction i had when he asked me to Marry him 20 years ago....of course , back then i said yes and last night he said the same thing... yes, its for you... do you like it?

have you ever cried like you thought your legs would give out? that's when it hit me.... he gave me a dream... and it is sitting for me... in my drive way.

20 years ago i left my first v.w. on the side of the road burning on fire... and since then i have longed for one again....so for him to save too... and forego his bonus check so that i could see my dream realized.. cause it's just that, that is the way it is with this man .... he drives 2 hours to another city to look at it and bring it home... for me.

Do you now know why i said Yes to him 20 years ago? cause he cherishs me... not because he buys me things... its because he listens to the beat of my heart and responds.... because i mean that much to him....

now all of you can go throw up or do whatever you do when you feel sick.
me, ? i am going for a summer drive in Miss Olivia.... as i have named her ... i would have liked to name my daughter but, we settled on Heather instead,, i have always loved that English name... and my Bugly came to me in the month of June. ( quit rolling your eyes... dont think i dont see you!!!)

Post Secret

This weekend i ran across a book in Barnes and blah blah. It is called Post Secret. this fella, someone Warren as a kind of art project had people send him post cards with thier secrets on them..... what happend has been crazy... people from all over the world couldnt wait to stuff his mail box with confessions both hurtful and courageous....

I was thinking... what if we... the church, instead of having a comments box.. had a secret post box. once a week we would open Pandora's box and pray over the contents. not like a catholic confession... but just a deep time of prayer. I wonder what God would do in the lives of those who sent in those cards.?... i wonder what i would contribute to the secret post box? what do you think you would send?

The Most Painted Barn in the U.S.

have you ever... even once, in your life heard somthing said and you thought it meant something completly different?

let us take for example... this photo a very close kindred sent to me of her Trip to Massachucsets.... Massachewsets.... Massishewsips... Mass a chuey-sits. anyway that lovely far away state on the Atlantic.

She is so excited when she arrives home, to show me all her photos. being a history buff herself... she unravels these stories with each captured Kodac moment and I simply am in awe... not to mention the fact the " the Plymouth Rock" is about the size of my size 10 wide Clog. not some monster of a monolithe i pictured in my head.

Hay i remember in school coloring a ppicture of some indians standing on this huge colossal rock overlooking the atlantic waving at the Mayflower like they had been waiting for the arrival of the White man on baited breath. So for me... Plymouth rock was hugenormous... not size 10 clog.

So my Friend "Jeans" shows Hubs and I the photo above of the quote..... " THE MOST PAINTED BARN IN AMERICIA" I think to myself.. yeah i think i have seen puzzels of this dang thing... and prints.. and posters.. and maybe a few post cards... let alone early americana paintings of this great thing.... and Jeans says... " hey how do they know how many times it's been painted?... her Hubs Rick and i look at eachother confused by her question and Rob my hubs says " yeah how do they know that kind of thing? " one of them says... " how can you tell how many coates of paint are on that barn? to which point Rick and I are on our backsides in laughter not believing what we are hearing.... could it be that our spouses think its about coats of colors.. not artistic subject? when we were able to bring the real meaning out.. and wiped the tears of laughter off our cheeks we all were amazed how quickly things went sideways.

how many times have you talked to God , and this very thing happens... God says... " paint your house... so you get a five gallon bucket and start working... and the whole time God is saying... wait ... wait... i mean capture the beauty before you..... i really want to listen to what God has for me... and not just hear it... I want to open the bible and look at defining scripture and really know...... what God... wants me to understand. Funny, God knows how simple i am.. and spells it out often for me..... cause too often i am more like that one instant where Jeans & Rob heard and interpeted things off the wall.....i love my Friends.

41 things

41 things....

41 Birthdays, 41 laughs, 41 memories, 41 times, i pondered my blessings, 41 crayons to draw 41 friends, 41 breaths held for a wish, 41 moments reminding me of my youth, 41 gazes from my adoring husband, 41 pieces of mosiac life puzzels.... 41 treats to open with my heart.
41 has brought to me my family and my friends, 41 times of thankfulness.... 41 more i pray. 41 has enriched me with 41 candles, 41 times i have thanked God for my life.... 41 wrinkles that each have a story, 41 testifies to be the beggining of more to come. 41 treats me like a queen on her thrown. 41 teaches me 41 lessons of bravery. 41 comes and 41 goes... 41 delights in the days to come... the days that have passed and the day i live at present.
yeah 41 fits like a comfy slipper... 41..... 41......4-1.

a cup, a cup, a cup a cup a cup...

so many times i get up in the morning and say to myself... i want a cup of Joe with my friend across the sofa table with me.... i get up take my shower before i think of doing anything else... or the day is not the same at all. i dress and wonder if a friend will meet me today on the couch for a cup of laughter or woe.

i really look foreward to the " couch " times.. i love to have a dear one stop by , flop on my couch and share with me vignetts of thier live and of our loves. i like to wrestle outloud with folks for a moment of thoughts and dreams... a pastor once told me recently that he noticed that i liked to search people. or unpack them.. or somthing like that.... and It is true... everyone has a story that has brough them this far.

i thought that his comment was funny as his head was under my sink trying to get a dime that had wedged itself into out disposal sans Hubs thinking the dropped dime would not be a big deal.... until Pastor comes by and brings his tool belt... hard hat... and elecrical know how book. yup if a disposal is not designed to eat a watermelon rind... you can bet a tiny metal dime will do some damage...

Pastor B and I traveled through memories of his childhood with his Father whom he dearly loved. i asked Pastor B. what traits did he feel he had of his dad... what fond memory is tucked into his heart.. what aftershave his dad wore. memories that had fallen into the floorboards of time.. memories of his Father whom had Died when Pastor B was in his 20's , some 20 odd years ago.

sharing stories of this beloved man made me want to meet such a Father for truely this Man loved his boy and that great big tall grown up boy did not have to question that. What kind of Father instills those moments of Fishing, of time given to his sons.... what kind of Father instills a love that causes his children to seek after him... I will tell you what kind.... a kind a father that was able to love without terms. so be it. .... so. be. it.

recently this Pastor B lost his baby brother... his 40 somthing year old baby brother. suddenly to a heart attack. the loss has been great... even giving it such words does not seem to touch the depth of how deep loss goes. i look foreward to the day i can ask those same questions of Pastor B about his Baby brother... to allow the balm of time to massage into those deep floorboards of memories....maybe one day i will ask about what traits they shared and have him wander off into a memory for him to unwrap.

I for one cannot imagine losing my sister... the thought gnashes at my heart. Sis and i are now in our own 40 somthings... and let me tell you what you all better find my couch when that happens.. cause i am going to need and want to talk about it...... a lot!

So come over get a cup... a cup.. a cup ...a cup a cup and lets unwrap eachothers lives and dare to live in the beautiful mess of it.