The Young Me

We dug out some old stuff of my grandma's when we were up there in Montana last time. One thing we found was a five-year diary from when she was 11-15. It was fun to read through the different activities she did. That woman was pretty freaking amazing. Involved in everything! I loved reading it all. The best entry went something like this (in 1938 when she was 14,  believe): Saw Sam today. My heart fluttered. We went for a ride in his car and he put his arm around me. He told me he loved me. I'm sure it wasn't proper but... then he kissed me. It was swell."

I loved imagining her out there in some old car before it was an old car, with her close friend, dreaming big dreams about the future and letting her red hair fly in the wind. I wish she'd written more. I wish I could have looked through all of her diaries.

It made me wonder about my old journals. I started when i was 12, I think. And for some stupid reason I KEPT all of those things, thinking someone would want to read them some day. I'm thinking that they won't. And i'm thinking I'll die if some people do. Because, let's face it, I was a stupid kid. We all probably were. On the outside we looked normal, but those angsty tweenager thoughts and the following years full of teenage troubles... it's embarrassing, really. If you knew me then, I'm thankful that we're still friends becuase I must have been one very annoying person.

I wonder sometimes if I should burn those bright-eyed dreams written with bic pens between classes (or during them), in the dark nights alone in my room, wondering if anyone loved me, if anyone cared. If I would ever get married. dreaming about my future and all of the things I could be. But I don't want to forget that either. Maybe some day my girls would want to see it. It's not like I had anything to hide. Just a whole lot of angst and questions that no one could answer.

I read some old emails yesterday, and I wanted to shoot that 18-year-old me. Knock myself over the head and say, "it turns out fine! Stop freaking out! And stop being so random! And stop being so... weird."

But I think that I still am that girl sometimes. And sometimes, even though I know how immature and naive I was back then, I wish I could go back. To be the young me again, before I became jaded and cynical about so many things. Before I knew so much about the world. Those troubles made me into who I am, and every joy and sorrow shaped me. So I'll keep the journals for now. but don't go looking for them. They're safely hidden away. Not even my closest friends have seen them. And I plan to keep it that way!

Joy

I found in the darkness
picked you up and called you mine
pressed you there at my heart where the scars grew deepest
and we danced in the moonlight like long-lost friends
in sweet harmony,
with faces turned to heaven
a song of gratitude, sung together.

But the darkness lifts
and life goes on
and finding you here among the mundane isharder
In this day-to-day going and coming--
the rushing moments between here and there
when the heart gets lost among
the ticking clock and
cries for help from others
When true vision circles around but doesn't land,

In a wilderness of sorts, a fighting chance
before all goes dark again
a glimpse
a glimmer
You. Standing there in the thorns of life as I know it,
a peace of heaven,
here amidst the earth
You and your promises
singing to my soul.

Another Pregnancy Post

I know most of my readers don't care about these things, but I feel like writing it, so I'm going to.
people ask how I'm feeling and I always say, "Pretty good. Just a little tired." By tired, I mean some days I can't walk up the stairs without feeling exhsausted. I pant like a fat person on a marathon even from doing something as menial as carrying the laundry across the room!
Also, I fell down twice this weekend. It might be usual clumsiness, but I just don't ever fall down. I think I've fallen four times since I turned 18. Not too bad. Two of them were this weekend. Once in the bowling ally which I should have just been a little more careful when trying to kick JJ's ball down a little faster. The other one wasn't really my fault either. It was on a cement floor at a fast-food restaurant with greasy floors and I had slick shoes on. I'm sure it looked great. But people felt sorry for me, because I was wearing a dress and I was pregnant. My little nephews asked more than once if I was OK. I was OK then, but today I'm sore all over. I'm blaming the pregnancy because I probably could have recovered and not fallen on my tooshy if I hadn't been off balance in the first place.
Also, I gained 5 pounds this week. And I know it was this week alone, because I weigh myself every week and I was sure I would have gained some whiel I was in Montana, since we mostly ate sausage and bacon and fast food things like that. But I didn't gain any there. some how it caught up later. And I shouldn't complain because that's all I've gained in the 23 weeks I've been pregnant. But I was hoping. Oh well.
According to my ultrasound, the baby is doing fine, though, so I can't really complain. And we've procured a bigger place to live in the fall so we can be ready for a bigger family. I have mixed feelings about that, but I'll post on it later. That's all for now.

Harvest of Friends

We received a great shower of blessings last week while I was in Montana. Daniel decided to surprise me by fixing up the front of our house. Let me tell you. It was unbelievable.
He never imagined so many things getting done. Or so many people coming to help! It was a reminder of how blessed we are with these people who like us enough to with these projects that have been hanging over our heads. It was a huge relief for both of us to get it done, and there were so many things that got done!
Paint all around. Sealed up the cracks and crumbles. Filled in holes. New flower beds in the front. Brand new poured cement porch with columns to hold it up and new wood around the roof that covered it. They fixed up the side porch too.
People who we don't talk to that often, long-time friends, and new friends all showed up to help on different days. Daniel spent every day of the week working on the house. My MIL oversaw the things inside of the house and kept it together there. And other family members helped too.
I'm overwhelmed with the blessings, and the house is so beautiful. It reminded me of this episode of Little House on the Prairie, when Charles is sinking into debt over his head with too much work to do, and at the end, all of his friends in the town come to help him shovel grain or something like that, and he realizes how blessed he is.
Anyway, here are a few photos because I know you're dying to see it!

This is the "before" shot. Pretty shoddy. You can't tell from back here, but the whole house was really tired and dark and moldy and cracked.

The sign they made

Daniel made me pose for this, putting down the welcome mat. When I bought it for the old porch, it looked too nice to be there. Now I'd like to get a better one because the porch is almost too nice for that one. :)

They chopped down the pine tree in the front yard. That's our friend Tim way up high after they lopped off the top.

Awwwww.

My super hero, in his element.

More super heroes. These guys are the dynamic duo. (Father-in-law and his brother). They can pretty much do anything.

And this doesn't even do the new look justice. Love the little house!

Lone Prairie

Out here in these Montana hills
where you can see for miles beyond--to where the dusk meets the night
to some solo lights out in the sky
And a man could wander all day
and still not see a soul
stomping through this native grass, bending in the direction of the wind
A thousand miles of wonderful
whispered in the wind
between the blades of beauty
the glowing fields of grain

And this restless soul, searching for peace and meaning
can follow a fence line and soak in that silence
spoken for two hundred years of settlers and homesteads
and these horse-ridden impliments
left to rust in the weather
forgotten by time and technology.
The sound of wild things howling in the night--
of horses and hooves and hammers and plows breaking ground

In this i find something more, something untamed and fierce
a pull to conqur, the ability to try
becokoing me further beyond
to where the morning meets the sky.

Magic Screen

Well, there isn't a lot to tell here. I mean, i could, but you aren't supposed to post vacations on the internet until you get home. Even though my husband is actually still home so there wouldn't be a chance for you burglers to get in and pillage.
A couple of weeks ago, when i was put off with mass communication in general, and more specifically facebook politics, I was sitting on the couch, doing something I find to be pretty relaxing, challenging and sort of stressful all at the same time. Drawing on the Etch-a-Sketch.
And then it turned into this idea. And this is what it looks like. I plan to update it more often than I update this one, since I seem to be losing fire with this one.

In the Quiet Hours

There are things that happen at night that just don't happen as well during the day. i'm not sure if it's just distractions and worries that get in the way during daylight, when you feel like you have to concur these projects and make yourself look productive. Or if it's just because it's louder during the day.
At night, as the darkness covers over the things you didn't finish, and the stillness sets in, when the kids have gone to bed and the dishes are washed or forgotten, and you have the TV off and you're ready for your last evening snack. that's when things get good.
I love having late-night conversations. I didn't really know that about myself, although I've always had my best talks with best friends late at night. There's just something different about it. Like here, where I am now, when we've been together all day *doing* things, and then we finally have some time to just sit back and visit, country style, that's when the good talking starts. It begins with something somewhat shallow, like politics or the state of the world, or your favorite hobby. And slowly, as the hours get longer and more people drop off to sleep, the subject matter becomes deeper. And even if it doesn't, it feels like it does. It feels like you know each other better and you can finally say the things you want to say.
Maybe it's just from being around each other all day. Maybe it takes that long to warm up. And maybe it's just how I feel. Maybe it's the mellow night sounds around, and the end of the day feelings, and just the way conversations work. Or maybe it's the quiet that comes most every night that we ignore by tuning in to blue screens and work. I think I want to embrace those quiet hours better, make more of them, before it's too late and I'm old and don't know my friends anymore.

Do you ever feel like every time you open your mouth you say the wrong thing? Or that your opinion offends people?
I've been feeling like that lately and I'm not even sure how to fix that. I can't help but have opinions.
But maybe it's time to shut up more.
I really don't know. When is truth offensive because it's truth, and when is it offensive because a person doesn't want to hear it? How can I draw the distinction, pleasing God and not pissing people off?
Sometimes I sort of want to just piss people off. I'm really funny when I'm mad.