Wednesday, August 31, 2016

A little change of plans

Last night I had an almost completely sleepless night of worry about the when, how, and how much of the kitchen project.

I was worried about how busy our fall is and how we weren't going to have time to get things done.

I was worried about how the timing of everything was going to make our vacation stressful, make my fall scrapbooking retreats stressful, make everything stressful.

I was worried about the outflow of money for the kitchen and vacation coinciding, and causing more stress.

I was worried that being in a hurry was going to make the project cost more than it would otherwise.

So I decided to give us a break. We aren't going to do the bulk of the kitchen until early spring. We are going to enjoy our busy fall. We are going to enjoy the church dinners, weddings, family get-togethers, and even a little motorcycle trip. I will be able to focus the needed time on preparations for my fall scrapping frenzy. I will be able to prepare for our long-awaited anniversary trip and come home to a house that isn't all torn up. (Because there isn't much worse than returning from a vacation to a mess.)

I might even have the opportunity to make some money, allowing me to have more of what I want in my kitchen.

We are going to go ahead and take out the ceiling, move the door, and continue with the electrical work that Colin has been doing. Then, in late-winter or so, we'll order the cabinets and get ready for the big job.

I feel so much better.

Monday, August 29, 2016

There is some good news

I have my floor. It's in a pile of boxes on my front porch, but I have it.

 That's especially exciting because when we were ready to purchase, I discovered that it had been discontinued. A few cartons were available spread over a 100 mile radius. I was picturing a couple of days of driving from store to store buying 1-3 cartons at a time. 

Then I remembered that the husband spends all week in the 'burbs. The 'burbs have LOTS of stores, and a search showed me that one of those stores had 70 cartons of my discontinued flooring. 

So he went and bought it. On clearance.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

One step forward, four steps back

As I promised, this kitchen thing isn't going to be quick.

After getting cabinet prices from a local family-owned place, I decided to compare what the big-box stores had to offer. Sticker shock, mainly.

Our kitchen presents some challenges. It is small. The measurements are such that the most standard cabinet sizes don't fit without leaving more space than we ideally want to leave. We are planning to have the cabinets run to the ceiling to gain space, but that also limits the availability of cabinets other than high-end. So, yeah. Pricey.

And then there is the plan to move the basement door, which is filling me with more than a little trepidation. It would add two feet of counter space, and room for the dishwasher on the perimeter of the kitchen, but, if not well-executed--or finished promptly--could leave me with an ongoing unsightly opening in the center hall of the main floor of my house. (Did I mention that my husband, who doesn't live here during the week, wants to do the work himself?)

(My main bathroom is unfinished after almost five years.)

You see my problem.

Trying to stay within my budget, figure out all of the details of something that is way outside of my comfort zone, and fear of making a huge mistake are all contributing to a certain paralysis.

But those holes in the ceiling are calling for progress.

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

It has begun

My long-awaited kitchen remodel is not going to be quick. It is going to happen in small increments interspersed with bursts of activity.

This happened Sunday:
There are actually two more like it now.

We can see the original plaster ceiling above the lower ceiling that was put in in the late 1940s. We can see the water damage that happened in one corner of that ceiling sometime in the last 70 years. We can see the wiring for all of the outlets and lights in our kitchen that runs between the two ceilings.

It is helpful to know what we are dealing with.

What I don't have a picture of is the aftermath of this job. After Colin pulled out the power tool. After the cloud of drywall dust covered the contents of the main floor of my house. After COlin left on his motorcycle.

Thank goodness for my friends Jacqui and Effie, who--fueled by margaritas--helped clean the mess up while the men were out riding. I'd still be cleaning.

I've decided that this much-neglected blog is the best way to document this process, so any of you who are interested can be along for the ride. Hang on. This could get bumpy.

Friday, May 13, 2016

Hanging on

The photo above is of a couple of paragraphs from Unstuffed by Ruth Soukup. If you have trouble with clutter or organization, you may find her books helpful. I have. And her website is packed with money-saving ideas.

These paragraphs have been so helpful to me, and I keep returning to them to remind myself that getting rid of things isn't getting rid of my memories of the person who they belonged to. I am very sentimental, and getting rid of anything that belonged to either of my grandmothers is really hard for me, no matter how much I don't need it.

And things that remind me of my kids' childhoods. SO hard to part with. 

We have a rummage sale coming up at church, and being able to donate things is good motivation. And every time I get ready, out of sentiment, to hang onto something that I really don't want, I remind myself of these ideas.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Funerals: The good stuff

We have had a lot of funerals at church in the past eighteen months. We've had three since Easter, with one more coming soon. So many of our dear saints who lived full, active lives into their 80s and 90s have left us, and it has left a hole.

I am in charge of the funeral dinners at church, but I have always gone to the funerals anyway. In our earlier years at Redeemer, I went to most of them because I was taking sons to acolyte and it didn't make sense to drive back home. Over time, as I got to know the people, I just wanted to be there.

At the last couple of funerals, as I looked around the sanctuary and noticed how few congregation members were there, I started thinking about the place of funerals. (This has been part of a much broader musing on relationships within the church, the whole idea of a church family, etc., that will be making appearances here and in my presentation at the Family Retreat this summer, but I digress.)

I've been thinking about why people don't go and why I wish they would.

Funerals are never convenient. Believe me, the pastors and church secretary know this. People are busy and don't want to take time out of a Monday morning or Saturday afternoon to go to a funeral. Moms don't want to bring their kids, or aren't sure they belong. People say that they didn't really know the deceased. Because we fight so hard to avoid thinking about death, we are really uncomfortable with those who are dealing with it up close and personal.

But death is real. Avoiding thinking about it doesn't make it go away, and I think there is a lot of value in pausing to acknowledge it. My job forces me to: Putting together the funeral bulletin. Marking someone as "Removed by Death" in the software. Putting together their obituary for the bulletin. Each of these takes precedent over other more routine tasks, because death comes when it comes, no matter how busy we all are with our lives.

And so do funerals. And you should go, if you can. There are so many good reasons that it's hard to know where to start.

First, if your pastor is doing his job, you're going to get the good stuff at a funeral. The real stuff. The life-giving Gospel. If you come to a funeral at Redeemer, you are going to hear sermons that are among the pastors' best.

You will sing hymns and responses. I admit to a selfish thought here. This will mean that there are more people singing. The acolytes, Pastors, and I sometimes are reminiscent of a very small and thinly-spread choir. But singing hymns together, feeling the tears as you sing "I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVES," this is a good thing. And it's a witness to the families who are all too often not church people that this is real, and important, and not just to blue-haired old ladies, but to middle-aged men, and moms, and kids, too.

It means a huge amount to people to have their loss acknowledged. Huge.

It is good for your kids. My tears at the last funeral were brought on by thinking about what an incredible gift acolyting at funerals has been to my sons. They know death is real. Over the last 13 years, they've acolyted for the funerals of the elderly and the young. They've acolyted for those they've barely known and for those they've loved. They've learned to control their emotions while they serve. They have spent extra time with Pastor on the way too and from funerals. They've gotten to know and serve our members in another way. And they've heard all those devil-kicking sermons.

And people have loved having them there. I have received so many words of appreciation for their presence. Being there for each other is an important part of this church family thing. Really. Even for the people who only come to Sunday services. They appreciate the presence of their church family at the time of death. I know this because they tell me.

Death isn't something to hide from our children. How much better that they get used to the idea and practice saying goodbye to the elderly lady that always sat in the back pew, or the man with the hair growing out of his ears, so that grandma's funeral isn't their first? How wonderful it is to hear their young voices joining in the prayers and the singing, because they are part of the church family.

As I said, this is part of some larger thoughts that will be showing up over the next couple of months. I know there was a post shared by some of my friends last week that had to do with funerals that I didn't read because I didn't want to get my thoughts muddled before I had a chance to write this, so I think I'll seek that out now.

Sunday, May 08, 2016

Things you never saw being a part of your life

Sometimes life takes us in directions we didn't expect to go. Definitely the most profound and life-changing of those for me was getting married at 20 and having my first child at 21. I wasn't planning on kids. Certainly not at 21. And definitely not many!

And no way was I going to be a stay-at-home mom.

Well, things changed. Four kids. HOMESCHOOLING stay-at-home- mom. And the only changes I would make if I could go back, would be to enjoy it more and not to have been so worried about doing something more. (You know, to really "contribute" to the family. To "use my brains." Et cetera. Ad nauseum.)

So that was good. But that's not what this post is about.

There are some things that you REALLY don't expect to be part of your life. Things you wouldn't choose, but don't have much control over. Sometimes your husband has a heart attack, and survives, but seems to have lost his mind a little bit.


I love these ladies. But the vest? Not so much.
I haven't been on it yet, but that is apparently part of the deal. But so much not part of the plan.