We do a lot of things backwards, so no real plan is in play today for Memorial Day celebration, though we hope to have some burgers with the Reids later. Macklynn has fallen 4th in line to this sickness that's passing through. I've conquered the laundry and am down to a final load, so I might as well write about what's been burdening my mind.
I began working out in the mornings with Melody 3 weeks ago. I love to exercise, the really strenuous, sweaty kind. How I fall off the wagon is pure sabotage coupled with sheer lack of resolve. We had a couple of days out and about; then, this muscle knot reared it's head making it difficult to even sleep. Within hours, I discovered a line of 5 spider bites? across my abdomen, quickly turning black. In the middle of all this, I was weakened once more with the badge of my indiscretion.
When Mike and I had that homestyle buffet meal, I purposefully overate - innocent enough, but the old saying, "When you let the devil take a ride, he soon wants to drive," (same idea as the child's book, "When You Give a Pig a Pancake" :) kicked in. That very week, we ate out some of my favorite meals for one reason or another every day. And guess what else kicked in: the "last supper" mentality that inevitably leads to the greedy gorge beginning manic behaviour/panic that the "deadline" can't ever be met now, so what the hell ...
The "last supper" and "I'll be good tomorrow" are direct results of "dieting"/controlling food instead of the will. I'm not a promoter of diets, nor will I ever be. I have seen too many wounded. Temperance is my goal, which is hard to attain when one has stepped away from her center/her Help. God is beautifully gracious to give new mornings to begin again. If I waste too many of those and fall to ill health, never reaching the age of enough effectual wisdom to influence fellow women (and the occasional man ;), the evil one himself will have slyly won a part of my days.
The absurdity of my tendencies confounds me. My husband is able to wean himself from a dependency on "pain management"; soldiers march on in hunger and uncertainty; I, myself, overcome daily "many a" temptation. My adversary knows that if he can pursuade me to move from my essence, my femininity, my well-being that I am a fraction of a strong tower and void of confidence, working against my own conscience - something like the conflict in Romans.
I'm back to my aspiration of restoring health, not letting vanity hold a place above it. Nothing done out of external purposes will last. Some people might get a good laugh from this, but there are others who understand. New temptation arrives with a strong, healthy body and happy countenance: thirsty seekers of pleasure, unwanted glances from married men, pride that clouds discernment ...A new thing has been given to me the though, a hedge of protection - emotional needs met at home - leaving no real cause for stumbling into any of the aforementioned snares. So, back in the saddle I go ...hoping it's a long while before I lose my focus/get caught watching the scenery and run straight into a low limb, knocking me down again on my "hard head and stiff neck".
Monday, May 30, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
A Day for Adult Homeschooling
I'm not feeling well today and I know why. I'm thinking that writing about yesterday, before I forget the essence, will make for a good pickmeup. Mike had rented a Harley again Sunday and you'd think I'd be all for a ride on a Monday but I just wasn't that up to it (since my "to do" list had already sunk in for the day). It didn't take long after we headed up the highway to have a swing in my mood. He had burned and brought a CD with new songs like: "Back Road", "Shake It for Me", and "Tomorrow" (which is a bit of an anthem for us). The music, the wind, the "on the road to wherever" overpowered my task oriented mentality.
It didn't take long for him to find us something to do. We ended up at Shelton Vineyards, which has pristine grounds, and turns out to be the largest on the east coast. So, he picked a fine location for our first wine tasting and tour. Immediately my thought was that, "Wouldn't I just have to wear my ripped up jeans and black T-shirt to such a place?" I thought our fellow tourists would be uppity; but, no, they weren't. They were quite entertaining actually. I learned a lot and had a good time doing it. Since I have the "cheap" preference of sweet wine, I came out to the good with a "bargain" they had on a mixed case of such. My dear husband bought it for me and packed it onto to that motorcycle in 3's and I'm pretty sure is expecting me to be in nothing but a welcoming mood each time he returns home, seeing how I will have reassurance of a "boost" now.
Just as we got back on the highway, the rain began to fall. I didn't tell him but I wish we could have just kept riding in it. Instead, we stopped under a bridge to put on rain suits. Funny thing was that I had put on HIS suit, so the one he put on was "small" and he required "assistance" to pull it off as he sat on the concrete. We finally got situated, just to stop in a few more miles to strip them off again. When I got the mountains in my view, I drew a breath, not for fear, but because part of me still calls it home. It feels different there; it looks different there - the lush moist green highlighted with huge orange Azaleas and fuschia Rhododendrons. It smells different there, especially on a bike passing the roadside Peonies and honeysuckle. Along with the serenity, we had to take the meetings of snakes in the road, which I can't do without a chill running through my spine. We were on the Blue Ridge Parkway and didn't pass anyone for miles. (I love that it was constructed with the dual purpose of national preservation, as well as, defense.) It IS different there and I'm glad we aren't too far away to visit on a whim.
Mike had more than the view in mind as we wound our way to Shatley Springs Restaurant. Now, for those of you who haven't been fortunate enough to have been served a "homestyle" meal, I'll give you detail. They bring out bowls of vegetables (real potatoes, gravy, corn, cooked cabbage, slaw, pintos, green beans, +), plates of meat (southern fried chicken and cured ham), baskets of biscuits/cornbread, and as always sweet tea, stewed apples, and cobbler. SO, when we left, we definitely looked the part of bikers because "holding it in" was no longer an option.
Just a few miles away sits our home we left 3 years ago. At that time, it appraised (in the middle of renovation) at MORE than $60K than the investor bought it for after Mike's Aortic Bypass. It's an easier pill to swallow now that it's still empty and for sale at $15K LESS than he paid us. As we drove up the long driveway, recall was inevitable. As we drove away, I wholeheartedly thanked God for letting me spend so many years there to raise the children. We stopped to see our sweet elderly neighbor, Mrs. Poe, who treated us as her own. There she was with a smile and living her life after the passing of her husband she had more than half a century. I hope to be like her - everactive and evercheerful, even in her present state.
We rode through town to see the changing shops - that were becoming vacant when we first moved there, until the tourist attractions of galleries and fine dining took hold. Mike drove with some reservation to meet up with the father and brother of his recently deceased friend. We hung out there in the wrecker shop for a while trying to make sense of what had happened. The normally quiet older brother followed us out into the dark and reminded us to keep communication with our brother and sister because, "You just don't ever know ..." I thought on that for much of the ride home down the mountain through the cold pockets of foggy air. How can any of us take a thing in this world for granted?
I was relieved to drive up to lights on in the house meaning that Miranda had successfully gotten one to practice and one to a game with the others in tow and made it home. She had also taken them to the park, grabbed some slushies, and rummaged through things for the pond at Dollar General. The wide eyed looks of delight we get from the little ones upon our returns is always refreshing. The day had been so very good that I wanted to write about it then, but a husband lay in wait and deserved my time. I've done plenty of writing about the awkward return of emotion between us, so I simply must tell you of the ease that we are coming to. I have refrained from a particular thing or two in the last year or so, not wanting to feel pressured or dutiful in my detachment; but last night I was released/uninhibited and, well, Mike went to sleep happy.
It didn't take long for him to find us something to do. We ended up at Shelton Vineyards, which has pristine grounds, and turns out to be the largest on the east coast. So, he picked a fine location for our first wine tasting and tour. Immediately my thought was that, "Wouldn't I just have to wear my ripped up jeans and black T-shirt to such a place?" I thought our fellow tourists would be uppity; but, no, they weren't. They were quite entertaining actually. I learned a lot and had a good time doing it. Since I have the "cheap" preference of sweet wine, I came out to the good with a "bargain" they had on a mixed case of such. My dear husband bought it for me and packed it onto to that motorcycle in 3's and I'm pretty sure is expecting me to be in nothing but a welcoming mood each time he returns home, seeing how I will have reassurance of a "boost" now.
Just as we got back on the highway, the rain began to fall. I didn't tell him but I wish we could have just kept riding in it. Instead, we stopped under a bridge to put on rain suits. Funny thing was that I had put on HIS suit, so the one he put on was "small" and he required "assistance" to pull it off as he sat on the concrete. We finally got situated, just to stop in a few more miles to strip them off again. When I got the mountains in my view, I drew a breath, not for fear, but because part of me still calls it home. It feels different there; it looks different there - the lush moist green highlighted with huge orange Azaleas and fuschia Rhododendrons. It smells different there, especially on a bike passing the roadside Peonies and honeysuckle. Along with the serenity, we had to take the meetings of snakes in the road, which I can't do without a chill running through my spine. We were on the Blue Ridge Parkway and didn't pass anyone for miles. (I love that it was constructed with the dual purpose of national preservation, as well as, defense.) It IS different there and I'm glad we aren't too far away to visit on a whim.
Mike had more than the view in mind as we wound our way to Shatley Springs Restaurant. Now, for those of you who haven't been fortunate enough to have been served a "homestyle" meal, I'll give you detail. They bring out bowls of vegetables (real potatoes, gravy, corn, cooked cabbage, slaw, pintos, green beans, +), plates of meat (southern fried chicken and cured ham), baskets of biscuits/cornbread, and as always sweet tea, stewed apples, and cobbler. SO, when we left, we definitely looked the part of bikers because "holding it in" was no longer an option.
Just a few miles away sits our home we left 3 years ago. At that time, it appraised (in the middle of renovation) at MORE than $60K than the investor bought it for after Mike's Aortic Bypass. It's an easier pill to swallow now that it's still empty and for sale at $15K LESS than he paid us. As we drove up the long driveway, recall was inevitable. As we drove away, I wholeheartedly thanked God for letting me spend so many years there to raise the children. We stopped to see our sweet elderly neighbor, Mrs. Poe, who treated us as her own. There she was with a smile and living her life after the passing of her husband she had more than half a century. I hope to be like her - everactive and evercheerful, even in her present state.
We rode through town to see the changing shops - that were becoming vacant when we first moved there, until the tourist attractions of galleries and fine dining took hold. Mike drove with some reservation to meet up with the father and brother of his recently deceased friend. We hung out there in the wrecker shop for a while trying to make sense of what had happened. The normally quiet older brother followed us out into the dark and reminded us to keep communication with our brother and sister because, "You just don't ever know ..." I thought on that for much of the ride home down the mountain through the cold pockets of foggy air. How can any of us take a thing in this world for granted?
I was relieved to drive up to lights on in the house meaning that Miranda had successfully gotten one to practice and one to a game with the others in tow and made it home. She had also taken them to the park, grabbed some slushies, and rummaged through things for the pond at Dollar General. The wide eyed looks of delight we get from the little ones upon our returns is always refreshing. The day had been so very good that I wanted to write about it then, but a husband lay in wait and deserved my time. I've done plenty of writing about the awkward return of emotion between us, so I simply must tell you of the ease that we are coming to. I have refrained from a particular thing or two in the last year or so, not wanting to feel pressured or dutiful in my detachment; but last night I was released/uninhibited and, well, Mike went to sleep happy.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
There's Something More
I get the distinct feeling that someone in particular enjoys putting inflammatory "observations" out and the reactions that ensue. I'm beginning to wonder if he has a "perverted" view of a woman's body and the use of it. No worries that I can really single him out because I'm "running up" on this kind of man pretty regularly, some even claiming "the faith" and taking for granted what/who they already have.
You're saying that using each other is mutually beneficial? You say my version hasn't worked that well for me? I'd say that it has been less than ideal, painstaking actually, but worth it. Eroticism seems optimal, but there is better to be found - when it combines with the soul of a woman. Taking from each other is reversed to giving of each other. This means laying your heart out on a table and risking it being ravaged but innately hoping that just one person might embrace it - take it and treat it as her own, which is also worrisome because that person might not hold enough regard for her own heart.
When you're old though, you'll have grown tired of the using game and might not like the "alone" in your aging, wishing the perfect/logical world you created hadn't been impenetrable, that real love is out there somewhere and that it begins with the One who created it.
You're saying that using each other is mutually beneficial? You say my version hasn't worked that well for me? I'd say that it has been less than ideal, painstaking actually, but worth it. Eroticism seems optimal, but there is better to be found - when it combines with the soul of a woman. Taking from each other is reversed to giving of each other. This means laying your heart out on a table and risking it being ravaged but innately hoping that just one person might embrace it - take it and treat it as her own, which is also worrisome because that person might not hold enough regard for her own heart.
When you're old though, you'll have grown tired of the using game and might not like the "alone" in your aging, wishing the perfect/logical world you created hadn't been impenetrable, that real love is out there somewhere and that it begins with the One who created it.
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