Wednesday, June 29, 2016


I’m not feeling very light today.

Emotionally or mentally.

When someone tried to use subtle humor a couple days ago I believe my exact words were, “I am mentally incapacitated this week. Are you trying to tell a joke? It will need to be explained to me.”

Moving day looms. Moving days. Plural. A twenty-four hour period during which the remaining contents of my house will follow an emerging logistical path to multiple locations.

My brain hurts.

I had awesome help the other night. The posse assembled and packed up my kitchen and then some. Those of you familiar with my culinary skills are aware how much of a hurdle that is to clear. Why does one need so many crème brulee ramekins? For football parties. Duh.

I am in the home stretch. I attacked the blazing hot walkout attic the last couple of days. When I say walkout attic I mean you walk hunched over through the mini-door we say leads to Narnia. And you stay hunched over in order to avoid whacking your head on the roof trusses. Unless you’re short. Which I am not.

I’m trying to avoid a full on concussion throughout this process. But yeah, there are a couple tender spots on top of my head.

Running stairs while carrying stuff is a good workout at least. Today I’ve taken a short mental health and writing break. I think it’s the first time since Sunday morning I have not reeked and/or been sweating through my clothes.


You’re welcome.

Sunday morning. I was not playing so I walked into church a couple minutes late and snagged a seat near the front. Okay maybe I was talking in the lobby, thereby delaying me finding a seat.


It was great.

Except for the Talky McTalkertons who took up residence in front of me. Dear Lord, please help me focus and keep smiling because I could really use some peace this morning and maybe those people really need to be here and maybe they really need to say whatever they’re saying and maybe they prefer to worship through talking?

I might have belted some Natalie Grant a little louder than usual.

I was feeling just a touch scratchy, which makes me at least a touch pitchy. And I don’t care.


“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

~ Matthew 5:13-16

Salt and light, salt and light, salt and light.

The sermon was about Miriam being struck with leprosy for complaining.


It was in fact more positive and encouraging than that sounds.

So anyway.

In my mental incapacitation and blinders-on focus, one of my cohorts called the weekly blog theme. We did “Light at the End of the Tunnel” in the not too distant past. This time it’s just “Light”.

I do own a little music box in the shape of a piano, and it plays “You Light Up My Life”. (Hence you can discern the vintage.) I’d include a picture, but it’s packed in a box somewhere.

So there’s that.

When last we spoke, I was at the shooting range. Bahahaha. Truly. Because of course that’s where you go as derecho-mageddon is approaching.

I was wrapping up a class … and I’m a better shot than I thought I’d be. Combine following directions with perfectionism and hey ..


I arrived home safely before any storms hit. I settled in with the laptop and the local news stream, followed by the live Facebook stream from the weather dudes. A good night’s sleep was not going to be had. About 1:30am I gathered my toys and headed for the basement, upon hearing about rotation in one place a few miles west and 100+ mph winds in another place a few miles west.

The light show was spectacular as was the deluge, but thankfully there was no storm damage. I got to bed at 4am.


A little droopy but intact upon inspection.

And here I am continuing to pack and sort and downsize and give away and drop off at Goodwill and call and organize and update and deal.

Salt and light, salt and light, salt and light.

Following errands earlier today I was in dire need of food, and since most of my kitchen items are packed I opted for a garden omelet at the premier cosmopolitan fine dining establishment in Heath, Ohio. That’s right, the International House of Pancakes.

Hello, veggies. I love you so much. 

Pancakes are in the fridge waiting for me to feel the need, the need for carbs.

Whilst exiting the IHOP I almost got to walk toward the light for real.

I had received some not so full of light news while enjoying my omelet, but I looked both ways before crossing the aisle to my car. I did. Safety first.

This dude whipped around the corner so fast … he came a little too close for comfort to squishing me.

I was almost taken out by a smoked sausage truck!!!

Oh my.

I’m nearly vegetarian. I eat some poultry, but otherwise … nope. I haven’t eaten red meat (or the other white meat, please) since I was eighteen years old. What irony there would be in me being run over by a smoked sausage truck! Bahaha.

I’m going to take a deep breath and keep packing and sorting and looking up.

Well this hasn’t seen the light of day in a while.

The hostas keep looking up.

For more Light thoughts from my friends, see Sue Bowles at and Leisa Herren at

And if I sing out in the dark of night
Or praise You in the light of dawn
Hear my song and lift me on Your wings
And if I worship You in solitude
Or join a choir 10,000 strong
Hear my song 'til all creation sings

Glorious, shining so glorious
Though I stumble, though I fall
You remain glorious.
Towards Your light
I come running, I come running
Into Your arms
I come running, I come running.

You have searched me
You have known my heart
You've heard my every anxious thought
Hear my song, it's all I have to bring
And though the battles come
This much is known...
The victory's won by You alone
Hear my song, my Savior and my King

Every faithless mission
Every false ambition
Here, I lay them at Your feet
As in heaven, as on earth
I will ever sing Your worth
You alone make me complete

Towards Your light
I come running, I come running
Into Your arms
I come running, I come running.

~ Newsboys’ “Glorious”

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Brilliant Ideas

I’m sure I had some brilliant ideas around here somewhere.

When the phrase first crossed my mind as a theme-o’-the-week I was singing, “You make brilliant ideas, you make brilliant ideas, la la la” to the tune of “Beautiful Things”.

It’s another one of those weeks where the schedule and agenda keep changing constantly. Ah yes … la la la … serenity now …

When last we spoke there was severe weather approaching. It all turned out fine.

Wacky Weather Wednesday

is becoming a theme however. Due to a long story having mostly to do with me getting ready to move, I do not currently have TV service. So I’ve been streaming the 11 o’clock news on my laptop fairly often. You would have thought the Blizzard of ‘’78 was imminent if judging only by the tone of the news anchors. They actually did a story on people stocking up on batteries.

But you know, the night before last Chris Bradley said it. It. The D word.

He said derecho.

Thereby triggering PTSD for countless central Ohioans.

Don’t know what a derecho is? Google it. Pretty much it means the potential for days and days and maybe even a couple weeks or more without power. Or air conditioning. Or running water for those with wells.

Or perhaps for those whose power is restored within a day or so, it means being able to provide shelter, showers, laundry, and phone charging services to others.


The Jacuzzi is filled with water again. Thanks for asking.

Deck chairs are stacked and tucked to the side, thus reducing the chances of them becoming airborne.

The bad stuff is predicted to hit late night tonight last I heard.

So if I don’t wrap this up before I have to dash off to a thing … maybe we’ll have power to post, maybe not.

Where was I. Brilliant ideas.

Proper grammar and spelling are brilliant ideas. Artistic license is of course allowed where appropriate.

Oh honey. Brilliant idea. Yes. But … um … yeah. I think that goes beyond artistic license. Bless your heart.

Memorizing scripture is a brilliant idea.

Cash in your VBS memory verse points for fabulous prizes like these, which can be used to snap your brother or sister repeatedly while driving down the road because hitting people over the head with the cross is how it works.

Being a good steward of what you’ve been given is a brilliant idea.

Oh honey. Maybe put the peaches in the fridge like I said instead of letting them rot outside for three days. They are not Jesus. They are not going to rise from the dead.

Reduce, reuse, recycle goes along with the good steward thing.

VBS “coral” repurposed for fun pool décor. These will likely be in the pasture or maybe all the way to the high school after tonight’s derecho.


Sharing with your friends. Also a brilliant idea.

Hey everyone run over here. We found some good eats.

Spending time in the country. Brilliant.

Modern plumbing. This one is off the charts in terms of brilliance.

And nice men with trucks who come pump out the septic tank when you call them. It’s a lovely and brilliant idea.

When the nice man handed me my receipt yesterday … that receipt … you would think it’s nothing significant. Just a piece of paper for me to scan and email to my realtor for the file. But that receipt had “Psalm 91” printed on it. Not the entire whole shebang. Just “Psalm 91” so you have to go look it up.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.
If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
and you make the Most High your dwelling,
 no harm will overtake you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
 they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call on me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”

~ Psalm 91

I was asked, “Psalm 91. Is that the one that talks about lying down in green pastures.” This from someone who knew it was on the septic receipt.

“No, but it does talk about deadly pestilence.”

Just say no to deadly pestilence.

Maybe that’s the brilliant idea for the week. Just say no to deadly pestilence. Somebody make a meme please.

Well I’m off to go exercise my second amendment rights.


Whilst potentially dodging a derecho after class.

Peace out.

Keep looking up.

For more Brilliant Ideas from my friends, see Sue Bowles at and Leisa Herren at

All this pain
I wonder if I'll ever find my way?
I wonder if my life could really change at all?
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come up from this ground at all?

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

Oh, you make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new
Making me new

You make beautiful things
(You make me new)
You make beautiful things out of the dust
(You are making me new, making me new)

You make beautiful things
(You make me new)
You make beautiful things out of us
(You are making me new, making me new)

Oh, you make beautiful things
(You make me new)
You make beautiful things out of the dust
(You are making me new, making me new)

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new

~ Gungor’s “Beautiful Things”

Wednesday, June 15, 2016


Where to start even. I need some relief from the buzzing in my brain apparently.

Relief. Well there’s a broad blog theme o’ the week.

I can’t get no … I want to say satisfaction. Which is not the theme of the week. But I did once dance to that song in a London discotheque with my friends and a creepy old dude whose sweetest moves involved the double handguns pointed in the air thing.

Ah, good times.

I tend not to live my life with the “it’ll all be fine when” attitude. We all fall into that trap a little bit, but it lends itself to not really living your life while you wait for the big event. Whatever that event is for you.

I have gotten a lot more linear in my thinking lately. But it's not an it'll all be fine when thing. It's just a maximum capacity thing.

The list of tasks I could do is gigantic. The list of tasks people bring me that they think I should do is pretty decent. Thanks for the suggestion. Filing it away. I only have room in my brain for X and Y. Z, Q, and F will have to wait. And it’s totally okay if they wait.

It’s often good to challenge your assumptions. Perhaps daily.

I have a project schedule in my mind these days. Usually in Gantt chart format. Seriously. Everything is interrelated. Finish to start, finish to finish, finish to start minus three. X and Y are all I have resources for right now. When X and Y finish or at least start to ramp down, we can talk about pulling other things forward.

Project manager nerd alert. Remain calm. It'll be fine.

I spent some time the last few days prepping my house for the appraisal. Weeds have a tendency to grow this time of year. In a rapid, Little Shop of Horrors fashion at times. The bush, whose name / species / variety / whatever-the-technical-term-is I haven’t a clue about, by the garage does as well. The previous homeowner told me I could cut it back to almost nothing and it would grow back. She was right.

As I was wandering around outside, assessing what needed to be done, I realized the bush had become overgrown enough I was just going to have to trim it. It was starting to hit the house, the light fixture, the driveway, the sidewalk. So late Saturday afternoon in 95 degree heat … I gave it a serious haircut.  And hauled the branches to the brush pile. Never mind that excessive trimming of things is not really recommended for me. Never mind that my hands needed to be functional at 8am for soundcheck.

I don’t have a good before pic handy, but here’s the up close and personal version.

As I was walking back toward the garage from the brush pile it occurred to me this cantankerous bush ought to have a name. Why had I never named it? “Bennie” popped into my head. I shall call it Bennie. I don’t know, maybe Sir Elton had been running through my head for some reason. Maybe I was deliriously on the verge of heat stroke.

B-B-B-Bennie & the Jets …

Zoomed in brush pile pic. Remnants of Bennie.

I pondered the name for a bit. And then it hit me. Not Bennie! There’s a better option!

A friend’s mom once wondered whether the neighbors were growing an illegal substance in the pots by their garage. In front of the house, out in the open, in … those of you familiar with central Ohio neighborhoods will laugh … Muirfield Village. The close-up shot of Bennie from above is reminiscent of said illegal substance.

Mary Jane! We shall call the bush Mary Jane!

Or maybe Bennie Mary Jane.

Free spirited, out of control gal that she is.

Mary Jane is still illegal in Ohio anyway.

And the neighbors were growing tomatoes.

The past week has been a most interesting path. God whacked me upside the head with something. Which he’s prone to do, especially when I’m plodding along being the hands and feet and waiting for, well, the whack upside the head. We will see where it leads.

This week I’ve been providing taxi service for my VBS-age cousins. Vacation Bible School. It takes a village sometimes. They begged to help clean my house and weed on Monday. Any other time I probably would have taken them up on their offer. “The goal is to make my house look as expensive as possible before the person comes in to decide what it’s worth.” They’re ten and eleven. They’re old enough to understand. And the eleven-year-old is a budding entrepreneur and finance guru.

Yesterday was outstanding swimming weather, so we opted for an afternoon at their house, the family farm. Other fam & friends had the same idea. It was a lovely impromptu pool party.

Stormy skies ensued today. Movie day at Jenn’s house. Most of the kid-type movies around here have flown the nest … and the kids have been asking about my necklace … so we watched Ragamuffin. They paid attention for most of it.

I need relief from paleness and frizziness, but hey check the necklace.

I don’t know that I’m in particular need of relief from anything. Well, I mean there’s the usual list of wishes and lofty goals and dreams, and relief from whatever is stopping those would be cool. And world peace. But I just keep putting one foot in front of the other and it’s fine. Life is not happy happy joy joy all the time, nor did anyone ever promise that it would be.

Speaking of which, I’m hoping disaster relief will be unnecessary. We interrupt this blog post writing with a call from the county emergency alert system thingy.

This would be why.
Batten down the hatches, Nellie, and fill the Jacuzzi. Well water people will understand.

As I was saying. By the way, I waited five minutes and the weather changed. We’re down from an oh-my-gosh-we’re-all-gonna-die warning to a special weather statement.

Relief is nice. Relief is good.

But at the moment I’m blessed to be in a place where … when I can manage to place my identity in Him … constantly … continually … relief is not really in the front of my mind.


I could actually use relief from clumsiness.

Have you tried blueberries dipped in Nutella? Do it. Idea credit to the ten-year-old. Pay no attention to the traces of egg salad on my fine china.

Keep looking up.

For more Relief from my friends, see Sue Bowles at and Leisa Herren at

Can anybody find me somebody to love

Ooh, each morning I get up I die a little
Can barely stand on my feet
(Take a look at yourself) Take a look in the mirror and cry (and cry)
Lord what you're doing to me (yeah yeah)
I have spent all my years in believing you
But I just can't get no relief, Lord!
Somebody (somebody) ooh somebody (somebody)
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I work hard (he works hard) every day of my life
I work till I ache in my bones
At the end (at the end of the day)
I take home my hard earned pay all on my own
I get down (down) on my knees (knees)
And I start to pray
Till the tears run down from my eyes
Lord somebody (somebody), ooh somebody
(Please) can anybody find me somebody to love?

(He works hard)
Everyday (everyday) I try and I try and I try
But everybody wants to put me down
They say I'm going crazy
They say I got a lot of water in my brain
Ah, got no common sense
I got nobody left to believe in
Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Oh Lord
Ooh somebody, ooh somebody
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
(Can anybody find me someone to love)

Got no feel, I got no rhythm
I just keep losing my beat (you just keep losing and losing)
I'm OK, I'm alright (he's alright, he's alright)
I ain't gonna face no defeat (yeah yeah)
I just gotta get out of this prison cell
One day (someday) I'm gonna be free, Lord!

Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love love love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Somebody somebody somebody somebody
Somebody find me
Somebody find me somebody to love
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
(Find me somebody to love)
(Find me somebody to love)
Find me somebody, somebody (find me somebody to love) somebody, somebody to love
Find me, find me, find me, find me, find me
Ooh, somebody to love (Find me somebody to love)
Ooh (find me somebody to love)
Find me, find me, find me somebody to love (find me somebody to love)
Anybody, anywhere, anybody find me somebody to love love love!
Somebody find me, find me love

~ Queen’s “Somebody To Love”