Live a Life of Band-Aids

My new thing is wearing nice clothes when leaving the house, but let’s set the bar. I live in faded, blue jeans and t-shirts, so dressing up means nice jeans, a silk shirt and smart looking shoes. ๐Ÿ˜‰

As mentioned in Feel the Music, my friend and I met for our monthly coffee/tea. I wanted to wear something nice and took time to choose my outfit the evening before. Some of my prettier shirts call for ironing and my people are important enough to use an iron if needed.

When we met, she appreciated my choice in clothing, but there was one small problem. I was wearing the wrong shoes. These shoes were one of my favorite ‘slip on and go’ pair of shoes. I remembered them being comfortable enough to walk in all day long, but it’d been a while since I’d worn them and they were crucifying my feet!

It was all I could do to get back home in them. It was odd how they were once so comfortable, but turned into shoes from the devil himself. Entering the house, I kicked them off with a sigh of relief. This made me wonder what else in my life looked comfortable, but capable of pain.

I sat on the edge of my bed to inspect my foot and a blister had formed above the instep. My daughter stood in the doorway inquiring what happened and I told her about the devilish shoes. She said, “You slap three band-aids on it and keep moving.” It didn’t call for three, but I did slap a band-aid on it to continue stepping through life.

Keep living life my darlin’. Stock up on band aides.

“God will take care of what you go through. You take care of how you go through it.”

Zig Ziglar

These Two Chairs

We have thought about buying a couch for as long as we’ve lived here.

I spent time cleaning over the weekend, and then did some rearranging of the den. As I was moving furniture around, I remembered the couch sitting here the first time we saw this house. It sat right underneath the window sill, and ran the length of the wall. Three years later, we still haven’t bought a couch. ๐Ÿ˜‚

Sitting at the coffee table this morning, I looked across the table at her chair. It was empty. She is out, living her life, which I want her to do. She called and was excited about new tires for her Jeep. Her father took her tire shopping, and I sat and listened as she described every detail. That’s my girl excited about tires!

The main reason we haven’t bought a couch is these two chairs. They were designed and made around 15 years ago, for a formal living room which you can read about here. They are extra wide and the cushions are stuffed with down, so you can curl up and never leave. If we get a couch, they will have to go into storage, because neither of us can part with them.

These two chairs have held us up during every ‘love of my life’ breakup. They are wide enough to hold a box of tissues and a blanket. The fabric is formal, so I looked into having them recovered, and because they are so well made, the estimate started at $800 per chair. New fabric is not in their future.

Nowadays, her chair is empty more often than not, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Through the years, the one place we always go to be seen and supported is these two chairs.

Living With Intention

I’m sitting at the kitchen table writing morning pages.

Oh, it was so tempting to sleep just one more minute, but I sat up and listened to a mediation instead. He was talking about living enthusiastically. I’m not sure I can be called enthusiastic, but I do live with intention and maybe that’s a form of enthusiasm.

After the mediation, I got out of bed and let the pups outside. Walking through the house, it was like every action was ceremonial in welcoming the new day.

Opening the mini-blinds and pulling the string so they rest in place halfway up the window. Window one, two, three and open the front door to let fresh air in. Walking into the kitchen I see our dishes from the night before. A counter full of dirty dishes, but my thought was, “We use pretty pieces, so it’s a pretty mess.”

Yes darling. I’m going to show you my dirty kitchen, or at least the view from where I’m sitting. There is a flow to this life, but I believe if we get caught up in the flow, we can lose direction. Pause the flow and live with intention.

An up close view from the kitchen table.

The main thing that got my attention is the bamboo drying rack. I used to have a plastic one for the wet dishes to drain, but it would get gross and moldy if not wiped dry after use. I’m not going to take time to do that, so eventually it’d need replacing and having done so many times is like throwing money out the window. This bamboo one has held up for years.

My daughter bought the lilies and they’ve been sitting here for almost two weeks. We laugh at how long they’ve lasted. They just won’t stop being pretty! She bought them for me after a rough day at the Dentist. Just like the ribbon vase, she found the right container to place them in to do them justice. The purple mason jar was waiting patiently under the sink.

You’d never know the purple stock pot is dirty, but it’s sitting there waiting to be washed. I have to wash what’s in the sink first, because it needs a lot of room and relies on all the strength of the bamboo drying rack to hold it. It’s a solid piece, just like the crystal pitcher sitting beside the drying rack.

When choosing pieces for your life, choose solid.

The stock pot takes a grease cutting dishwashing liquid, but that sits in the cabinet out of sight. Here’s the one sitting by the sink.

There’s a misconception that pretty has to be expensive, but that’s nonsense if you keep it simple. If I need dishwashing liquid, I’ll choose pretty as long as it’s performs as good as it looks. That’s how I can sit at this table, beside a kitchen full of dirty dishes and think it’s pretty, because every piece of it is.

It’s a life well lived and loved by living with intention.

We’ve been talking about living the dream. Here are the posts in order up to now. Thank you for your love and support. ~Barb

That Wooden Spoon

Around the same time I bought the explosion of happiness wreath, I spotted a tool caddy for our kitchen. It’s meant to be used as a small planter, but not here.

toolcaddy

When I take pictures, I email them to myself with notes: That wooden Spoon. I didn’t move it to take this picture. Maybe this is how people began staging their photos? To display how they want it to be, or should be. This picture is not perfect to some, but it’s real.

I sent this picture to my daughter and she loved the caddy. I rearranged the cooking utensils to take another one for this post, but changed my mind. Mainly to get that wooden spoon out of front and center.

It’s not very pretty. It’s been used.

My daughter bought a colorful silicone spatula with a metal handle. It looks good, but can’t scrape the bottom of the pan like this guy does. There hasn’t been a messy pan yet that it couldn’t assist in fixing.

The photo may not be aesthetic, but I snapped it for my daughter, so it’s personal. This caddy holds our ‘ go to’ kitchen utensils, but all I see are moments. We cook our meals together and have incomparable conversation while cooking.

Today, the one that’s earned some time front and center is that wooden spoon.

Google Can’t Laugh

I bought the most obnoxious wreath. I had to warn my daughter that my crazy was unleashed and sent her this picture.

wreath

She’s in England and I was going to let it surprise her when she walked up to the front door, but couldn’t resist sharing it.

Today, I’m not sure when she’s coming home. Her flight from England was canceled. I have to let it go and lay it at His feet. God has a plan, I just can’t see it yet.

She messaged me this morning and asked if I was okay. Of course I am, but I told her, “Google doesn’t laugh with me.” (We have a Google Home Mini) My daughter has the app on her phone and she loves reading my history of what I’ve asked. Now, I’m wondering what all I’ve asked! ๐Ÿ˜‚

About a week ago, the power went out. I found myself saying, “Hey Google? Is there a wreck nearby?” My daughter just screamed out laughing. We both did. FYI…If the power goes out, little Google Home dies. I’m still laughing while typing this.

crazy

We laugh all the time. It’s not something we try to do, it’s just part of living this life together. It’s fun! When I asked Google, “Hey Google? Can you laugh?”, it said, “Sorry. I haven’t learned that yet.”

Poor Google. You need to learn to laugh.

Dear Team at Google. Google can’t laugh.