(Not lately, that’s for sure!)

But anything new in the lives of hibby and hubby lately?

Well, hubby (dun da daaa!) graduated with his Masters.  Woo hoo!

Then we moved to a different country.

Then I opened a cake stand shop.

All in all, a productive last several months, I’d say…  Hopefully, in the next few, I can expound on living in Canada!  (I’m loving it.)

Heavily, our eyelids droop closed.  The chilly room is quiet and dark.  Warm blankets are pulled up and close.

And then.

Then he remembers we forgot.

Should I admit it?  Once room is darkened, I’d accept our nightly routine to deviate just this one time.  But my strong shepherd-husband rolls over and clicks his lamp on.  Faithful.

Pupils, dilated by dark, suddenly trying to adjust to the light.

He reaches over for my hand, and we pray.  We pray for our families; we pray for friends that have rejected the Lord they once “knew;” we pray for our friends that are family in Christ.  We pray for the eyes of our hearts, that they adjust to the Light, to be able to see Truth.  We pray that we would understand with our minds and obey with our hearts.

He then reaches for the Word and reads to me.  Usually, we make our way through Proverbs, but tonight we “taste that the Lord is good” in 1 Peter.  After reading, we pray the passage.  That we would learn and apply the truths that we just read.

Even more heavily now, our eyelids droop closed.  The chilly room is quiet and dark yet again.  Warm blankets are pulled up and close.  And we fall asleep with God’s Words in our minds.

I am thankful for a hubby that is faithful.

While it is a command from God — and I am to do it regardless of how I feel — the Lord graciously gave me a husband that I eagerly respect.  One I find that I happily submit to his leading.

Especially when it means turning the light back on.

Pass the Buckleys, please.

We’re down for the count.  Both Hubby and I are ill.  I feel yucky, like I was squeezed out of a Play-Doh shaper.  That’s quite the word-picture, isn’t it?

All of this comes at a most inconvenient time.  We’re moving.  Our home needs to be packed up and moved out within a week.  Wow.  Overwhelming.

I think the combination of a pressing deadline, Kleenex fumes, and lack of sleep make for an incoherent concoction.  I have many thoughts swirling around, but none of them make too much sense right now.

Right now, if my brain dumped everything into Wordle, “sleep” would be the biggest word off of which everything else was hanging.

It’s been raining here a lot lately.  So, on my way home from work, I snapped a picture that I though would be a great addition to my “That’s so LA” collection.  Because it’s so LA!

Well, it is.  And it isn’t.

It really isn’t so LA, because 1) we’re in a valley in a desert.  Umbrellas don’t get the workout they deserve down here, so the rushing water doesn’t generally conjure up thoughts of palm trees and arid climes.  2) The beauty of the picture portrays a nature-y, natural setting.  According to my observation, nothing is terribly natural down here.

We have a lot of these…

(Heh, heh.  Clever, right?)

Which I suppose leads us easily to the argument of why the picture to come is so LA.  Because even when this poor, smog-oppressed city does try to flaunt it’s natural beauty, there is graffiti.  On the rock.  Which was along the windy road of a mountain.  Completely marring what could have been a sweet little oasis of beauty and calm.


Perhaps because there was a legitimate reason for the disarray, I was able to bring the camera to my one un-squinted eye and capture the chaos (and even chaos that didn’t have an excuse)…  Inspired by the occasionally-read Holy Experience blog, I wanted to look at the ugly around our house and, as Ann says “[examine] the weave, the texture, the shadows” noticing “it too is beautiful.”

It turned out to be a really fun project.  And I started to wonder if I didn’t want more than a point-and-shoot after all.

(Hubby?……..  I changed my mind.  I can do sewing and photography, right?  Insert sheepish smile with big, innocent puppy eyes.)

Our “pantry” for all to see, in all its visually-busy glory overlooking the living room…

blessings from our Father, that – even in our financial “student-status” straights – our pantry has overflow

Christmas decorations, still waiting on the sidelines to be put on the tree, even yet…

on the tree or off, Swedish decorations – sacrificially bought by Hubby – remind me of homeand husand’s love

Wrinkled sheets, straight out of the linen closet (which were perhaps not folded immediately after being dried)…

how inviting – smells fresh and feels rumpled AND crisp

Stacks of books, covering every available surface in our living room…

a row of bookshelves that went to grace another home!


These “ugly” scenes from around my house have their own shimmer of beauty.  It took a closer look to find it.  But I liked looking for it.

Anyone else?  Where have you seen lovely in the unlovely?

Doesn’t this pod look positively crunchable?!

image from C r u s a d e r

While walking to church yesterday, these pods were scattered all over the sidewalk.  Mmm, I loved smooshing every. single. one. under the heel of my boot.  Thankfully, we had arrived  a tad early, so we had the minute and a half to spare for my dawdling.

After teaching Sunday school, on our way back to our car, Hubby stopped abruptly.  He indicated towards the ground.  Separated from the rest of the bunch, a lone pod was pristine in its deliciously spiky crispness.

He had paused, purposefully, to point out and let me have the joy of crunching that one pod under foot.  A small gesture, but thoroughly endearing.  Swoon

Well, wasn’t that a lovely little holiday sabbatical?!  All the holiday posts–on everyone else’s blog–were so sweet and festive.  One of these years, I’ll stay on the bucking bronco of blogging holiday festivities.  In the meantime, I experienced mental anguish, wondering in what fashion I’d return to my dear blog.  Since I’ve had my share of blog-breaks, I’ve had my share of come-backs.  (If you click over to the Suspense Story of one of my returns to the Blogdom, don’t miss the Epilogue in the comments!  The comments are the best part of the whole thing…)  However, this time, a friend suggested to just ignore the static and jump in.

So, without acknowledging my prolonged absence, I’ll just start up blogging again!

And, go!

……….(blink, blink)…………

Aaaaaaaaaaaand, GO!


Go now!


…What was I going to say again?  (You don’t know, ‘cuz I haven’t told you yet, right?)

Um, I’m back.  Maybe?  Possibly?  Potentially?  I instill so much hope in my readers reader (hi Mom!  Mom?  Do you still read this?).

It’s mid-November.  The mornings here are feeling quite a bit like fall should feel.  Though, by late afternoon, it’s maybe a little too warm for November.

I couldn’t help but agree with my Google Widget that it’s what temperature this late in the year?!

temp in LA

In all seriousness, I don’t know what prompted this question mark.  If I’m disconnected from the internet or if there’s no readout, there’s typically just two dashes.  I thought it was kind of funny…

I know, quality posts around here lately!

Well, I came home from getting some gas for the car and my darling wife was making something in the kitchen, cooking up a storm.  She was dividing up a bag of flour into ice cream tubs and putting supper together all at once, and when I came in she held up one of her bare feet in the air, pointing it in my direction…

In confusion, I said “Uh, what’s going on Sweetie?”

She proudly announced that she was “barefoot and in the kitchen”, and that was “one down and one to go!”

I laughed and laughed and laughed when she called herself “such a feminist” that I had to blog it.

Gender nondescript persons alive!  It’s the 21st century: Finally, women can be liberated to love being feminine and not be expected to have to learn a blue collar trade and financially provide for their family.  Maybe one day, my oppressed brothers and I will be able to throw off the shackles of this Estrotalitarianist culture, burn our jock straps, buy things on a basis other than “cuteness”, talk without “expressing ourselves” and not have to worry about being sued for trying to raise our kids with a shred of discipline…

The tides are turning, and maybe one day, we’ll see change…




Well, you see, Nestle…  That’s not exactly how it works down here.  And I don’t anticipate your billboard turning the tide on this one.