Missing pieces

I've been gathering items for a garage sale. Well, technically, I guess it would be a yard sale since our garage is way back behind our house. I had decided that this Friday would be the perfect day. The weather should be beautiful, there is nothing else that I have to do, and I am SO ready to have this stuff out of here.

Then, out of the blue yesterday, I realized that I can't have it this Friday, or any other Friday in the foreseeable future because I would have to do it completely alone. No brief breaks to run in for a drink, the restroom, or lunch. No helpers available to fetch things or answer people. No company.

I keep forgetting that my kids aren't here anymore. I keep forgetting that although the guys--no longer boys--still live here, they are busy people. Patrick and Jonathan are gone all day every day during the week and Patrick is also gone most of the weekend. And Andrew, my nearly constant companion of the past 18 years, is now working about 40 hours a week between two jobs.

The change has happened gradually, and will continue. Two years ago Bethany got married and moved away. In the spring, Patrick will graduate and move out. In the fall Andrew will add college to his schedule and become even more of a phantom. I know that the changes are good and salutary, but that doesn't make them easy.

And, it doesn't make it any less difficult for me to figure out how I'm going to have a garage sale.

A little piece of my heart

I never gave much thought to what being a Grandmother would be like.

I just figured one day I would be, and that, of course, I would love whatever little people came along.

 

But, OH MY!

 

This little girl has a piece of my heart.

It goes with her when she goes back home with her mommy next week.

And I will be missing her like crazy, almost as much as I miss her mommy.

I hate it that she lives so far away, but even in that I am fortunate. 

I got to see her in August. I'm seeing her now. I will see her in October and November and December.

And I don't know exactly when or how, but I'm going to make sure that I see her in the winter, too.

And then I know that I will see her next spring when she welcomes her new brother or sister.

Well-rounded and hating it

When it was time for our oldest child to start high school, I played devil's advocate. I told her every wonderful thing about high school that I could think of. We discussed it a lot. She thought about it. And in the end she decided, to my great joy and immediate terror, that she wanted to continue homeschooling.

Her reason for that decision dovetails nicely with topic of my post. She knew that if she went to high school she would have lots of homework for classes that she wasn't even interested in and that this would cut into her time for the two things she really was interested in: playing the piano and reading.

She didn't want to be well-rounded. None of my children are particularly well-rounded. And I'm okay with that.

A friend recently linked to a blog post titled The argument against raising well-rounded kids. That piece is responsible for this post. Although that blogger is more career-focused and sees encouraging kids to focus on their strengths largely as a tool to build a more successful career, while I see it more as a means to live a satisfying and fulfilled life, I still found much in her piece that struck a chord.

I grew up well-rounded. I went to school and did well in all subjects. I played sports, and was mediocre or worse in all of them that I tried. I took piano for years, having neither the talent or passion to be good. I also took lessons in other instruments, voice, dance and gymnastics--for which my body could not have been less suited--even roller skating. Bless my mother's sweet heart, she was trying to find something that I was good at, something that would make my slightly chubby, bookish self happy. And I was, too.

Even though I already knew what made me happy. Reading. Writing . Playing with my friends. Reading some more. And more. And more. Writing letters to my friends and pen pals. And reading some more.

But what made me happy wasn't really an acceptable pursuit. Being smart, loving words, and loving to play with words wasn't enough. It wasn't a talent. So we searched. And when I hit high school I did what I was told to be the well rounded college prep student. I took math, even doubling up my sophomore year on Algebra 2 and Geometry to leave room for Calculus my senior year. I took Biology, Chemistry, Advanced Chemistry, and Physics. Because I was jumping through the college prep hoops, I couldn't fit in world history, which I would have loved, although I did get to take a one-semester philosophy class that is still one of my most memorable classes ever. Fortunately for me, English was required, and we had an excellent English department. I got to read real literature and quite a bit of it. I got up very early my freshman year to go to swim practice, because well-rounded people did sports. After three years of high school, I still had people pressuring me to go into engineering because that's what smart people should do. Why would I want to be a writer?

My senior year I finally rebelled. I had had good grades and was near the top of my class. I had the highest PSAT scores in the history of my school; getting into college and even getting money wasn't going to be a problem. I took English and government. I was editor of the yearbook. I dropped physics after one semester and I decided not to take calculus. I was a class officer. I read books, wrote, and spent a lot of time hanging out with my friends and my then-boyfriend, now-husband.

In college, I crashed and burned rather spectacularly. Nothing I wanted to do was practical. What was the point? I was lonely. I was removed from any support for my faith. I changed majors so many times that even I have lost count. I changed schools several times.

But what if from the age of 14 on I had been able to focus on what I was good at and what I was interested in? Would I be this person who still, at almost 50, doesn't know what she wants to be when she grows up? Would I be this person who can do lots of things, but as I seem to have been reminded frequently in recent weeks, none very well? And once a person, especially someone as ADD as I am gets in the habit of dabbling, can they get out?

My kids aren't well-rounded. I am glad. Bethany immersed herself in her books and music. She went to college to major in history and minor in music. She dropped the music minor after a while because it was too time-intensive, and she really doesn't enjoy performing, but she still gets a great deal of joy from her piano. She got perfect grades, aside from one B+, and could have gone on to grad school almost anywhere, but knew herself well enough to know that that wasn't really what she wanted. Now she's busy being a fabulous, happy, wife and mother.

Patrick is a reader and wordsmith. He is majoring in history and German with stellar grades. (One B+ there, too.) His depth and breadth of historical knowledge astounds me. His writing reflects the fact that growing up he immersed himself in good books. Whatever he decides to do he will do well, because he knows his own mind and is comfortable with who he is.

Jonathan is a singer. His teen years had the minimum of academic work necessary for college admission, but he sang with multiple choirs, took voice, and was in several productions with various groups, including two at the same time. He never could have done this if he were in school. He is not well-rounded. He is focused.

Andrew is the most like me in personality. Gregarious and out-going, he needs his social time, but he has also found his strength. He is skilled at, and enjoys, languages. He has learned Koine Greek well enough to help teach it. He has learned some Latin and German and intends to learn more. He is also very industrious and has had his first job for over a year and has now added a second. Both of his jobs are in the service industry, allowing him to use and hone his people skills and to socialize while at work.

Of course all kids need to be taught to read and write at a functional level. All kids need survival math. (If we taught math as a life skill it would go better, but that's another post.) But we do young people--and our society--a disservice by emphasizing well-roundedness, standards, college preparation, etc. We would all be much better off if from, about the time they hit double digits, we let our kids follow their passions and quit trying to shove them all into a few neatly labelled boxes.

Getting healthy

I'm sure I'm not the only one who cares about exercise, good nutrition, etc., in spurts. I'll do really well for a while. Then I'll fall back into bad habits. Or create new ones.

I was doing really well for a couple of years. I was eating a low-carb, low sugar diet that really made me feel great. As a bonus, I lost 27 pounds. Then my daughter got engaged. There were cakes to taste and food to plan. There were showers.

At the same time, we bought and started refurbishing a money pit.

And my husband started spending five days a week in another state.

And, then, there was leftover wedding cake.

I just never went back. Oh, for the most part I still ate better than I did before my low-carb, almost-no-sweets days, but I was giving in too often to weaknesses like crusty baguettes with homemade pesto, the Ragin Cajun's white chocolate bread pudding, and my various pasta creations. At the same time, I was drinking wine and beer more often.

So over the last two years the pounds have crept back on. I'm perilously close to where I started. And I have been feeling worse and worse. Stomach problems. Achy joints. General blergh.

Unfortunately, it has also become clear to me that my beloved coffee is a problem. My stomach just can't handle it. So I'm in the cutting-back-to-quit process. I'm also limiting alcohol to dinners out or get-togethers with friends. I've just finished my third day successfully low-carb. I have a kombucha starter from a friend. Each of these things is likely to help.


Why does it take so long to do the right things when we know that they will make us feel better?

I've got the bug

I've got it bad.

 First, there was the thick fall fashions edition of InStyle magazine.

Then there were three days walking around the mall while I watched my friend's one-year-old son. I'm having shoulder troubles, so pushing a happy baby in a stroller and sipping a cappuccino seemed like a good solution.

There are the crisp nights and sunny-but-not-hot days.

Then there are the several hours that I have spent sorting through clothes. I'm swapping out the white crops and sundresses for jeans and. . . ummmm. . . Where are my fall clothes?!

The realization that has hit me is that my fall wardrobe is pathetic. I have been paying tuition for kids in college for five years. Two years ago I had just spent my summer spending money in a manner that  felt, to me, reminiscent of the proverbial drunken sailor. Between our money pit of a house and having a wedding with 300 guests, there was nothing left. And then last fall I felt rotten and didn't feel like shopping, or going much of anywhere.

Add to that a 27-pound weight loss and a 15-pound regain in that time, and you see my problem.

I need to go shopping. I need to buy sweaters and white blouses and cute shoes. I need some jeans. I'd love a leather jacket; they are EVERYWHERE this year. Riding boots. Scarves. Something suede. Burgundy.

Oh, yeah. The bug has bitten hard.

Patchyisms

You probably have met Patrick, or at least know of him.

Patrick, trying to bring back dressing well, at a TinCaps game.

If you know me well, you've heard stories of Patrick's exploits in his younger years. But what you may not have heard about was what an adorably funny little kid he was.

My mother-in-law would sometimes write down things he said, because he cracked her up. Tonight, she emailed them to me. What a treasure! So for your enjoyment, I give you Patchyisms.

(This is copied exactly as I received it. For reference, Patrick was born late in the summer of 1990.)

Preschool: Patrick told the teacher, “Leave me alone. I’m doing my business.”

Age 3: None of that mushy stuff.”

December, 1994:

Carrying a pair of knitting needles, Patrick said, “Grandma, these are very dangerous chopsticks.”

Mar. 1995: Patrick told Ruth Ann, “Your daughter is a very bad mother. She told me I have to clean my room before I do anything else.”

Patrick was discussing his Dad’s golf game:  I said that his dad probably couldn’t beat Scott [the golf pro] but that his dad could do lots of things that Scott couldn’t do. Patrick thought a minute and said, “Yes, he’s a very good mower.”

Riding with us to Lafayette: “I have the hiccups. Grandpa’s driving too fast.”

To Pete [his grandma's dog who wouldn't do what he wanted]: Patchy’s counting to 3—1 ,2,3

November, ’93: Shannan [Patrick's aunt] told Patrick that he could stay with her when he was bigger, so the rest of the day, he kept asking Jane if he looked bigger.

“Bethany [his sister] is a bad boy.”

No place like home

I once gave my mom a gift that said, "Home is where your mom is." It was partially to reassure her that it didn't matter that she had moved from any place that we had ever lived together; her house would always be home to me. But I also gave it to her because it struck a cord in me. I think that maybe, just maybe, I've finally figured out why.

Throughout the '80s we were reminded weekly that, "Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name," and that may be true. But even more so, sometimes you want to go to a place where someone knows you. Not just your name. Not who they've decided that you are. You.

My mama knows me.

There is a peace and relaxation in being with someone who knows you. A feeling of home. (This is why a visit to my daughter in New Hampshire--where I had never been before--felt like a sort of homecoming.) I spend a lot of time with people who think they know me, but who I suspect completely misunderstand me at a fundamental level. It's stressful in a way that is hard for me to describe.

When I pull up outside my mom's condo I feel the same way I do when I pull up in the driveway of my crazy house and am greeted by my sons. I feel the way I do when my husband's car pulls into the driveway on Friday night. I feel like I do when my daughter greets me wherever she is living now.

I feel like I'm home.

My mama.

Summer supper

Summer food is my favorite. There is just no substitute for fresh veggies. Tonight we took advantage of several of my favorites in one meal.

We started off with sweet corn. Now, that is an appetizer.

The main course came about from the necessity of making a dent in the pile of cherry tomatoes that I picked today, coupled with the fact that I had some beautiful eggplant from the farmers' market.

I sliced the eggplant, salted it, and let it weep for a while to get rid of the bitterness. Then I tossed it with olive oil, (1 cup), wine vinegar (1T.), and salt and pepper. I topped it with a bunch of cherry tomatoes and then drizzled about 1/4 c. of olive oil with three cloves of garlic crushed into it over the top. I topped it with some fresh thyme, oregano, and basil. Into to the oven at 400 degrees for about 45 minutes. When it came out I topped it with some more fresh oregano and feta cheese.

We had fresh sliced cukes on the side. It would have been excellent with some crusty bread, but I was out. It would also be incredible on pasta. Maybe with some toasted pine nuts. And some kalamata olives.

Or maybe throw it on chicken. With some of the aforementioned olives and some capers.

I think I need another eggplant.

The bright side

I've been lamenting the cool summer and the fact that fall is coming. My fall wardrobe is lacking. I want to swim in my pool. My older sons will go back to their busy, busy college lives.

But today I had a happy thought.

At least, cooler weather--fall--means I can wear my boots again.

Happy thought, indeed.

Back to school?

Lots of my friends are posting first-day-of-school pictures, or, among the homeschoolers, not-back-to-school plans.

I feel so left out. Okay, maybe not left out. But certainly sad that that time is past.

I am guessing that my 20 year old and 23 year old sons might let me snap a photo before they head off for their first day of the fall semester in a week and a half. And I guess I do still have one student in my homeschool, but he is a senior this year and is completely self-sufficient.

I miss self-consciously sleeping in on the first day of school, then spending the day at the suddenly-empty parks. I miss planning a trip to the Childrens' Museum and Zoo for those first back-to-school weeks before school field trips started. I miss making big breakfasts, following the Oregon Trail, rescuing Zoombinis, maneuvering around tents made of quilts and chairs, and reading aloud.

This is my last year as a homeschooling mom, but it really feels like it's over already, the final gasp of something that has been winding down for several years. And I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being in the midst of something of an identity crisis.

What next? I don't know, but I don't think that my 12-hour-a-week job and trying to keep up with my house will keep me happy for long.

Margin, take two, or maybe three

About exactly six months ago I began thinking and writing about the concept of margin. For a while I seemed to be getting a handle on my schedule. Then just a couple of things outside of my direct control turned my life into something resembling a game of pick-up sticks.

The kind of chaos that needs to end.

Fresh off a few really busy weeks, followed by a short vacation, I'm ready to get back to work on creating some margin in my life. I'm ready to spend some time on the things that I really want to spend time on. I'm ready to try to get rid of more of my physical and mental clutter.

This week, with the help and support of my boss, I've instituted a firm limit on the amount of time I will spend at work in a week. This is going to be a huge help. Now I just need to stick to it.

I've gotten my calendar out and scheduled some time for my genealogy, both my personal research and the work I need to do toward becoming accredited.

I'm trying to figure out what needs to happen with my house to make things as functional as possible.

I've set a date for a yard sale. And for a visit with the husband at his apartment. And a trip to the art museum. Because if these things don't get scheduled, they don't happen.

There are some variables that may make adjustments necessary. I will be a child-care backup for a friend's one-year-old this school year, and will have him most of the week from time to time. I may have family things that come up. Who knows what may happen. But, for now, it feels good to have something of a plan.

Anniversary musings

Weddings are a big deal. In our modern culture, couples will put off the ceremony for years to save more money for the perfect dress or for all the bells and whistles. There is an effort to impress, to wow. Brides turn into bridezillas, insisting that the day is all about them.

I think that much of the reason for this is that as marriage has lost significance in our three-year-engagement, shacking-up, our-kids-can-be-flower-girls culture, the ceremony, for many, has become the marriage. Then on Monday it's back to life as they lived it before. (Well, the Monday after the Caribbean vacation dressed up as a honeymoon for the couple who has been playing at marriage for years.)

But not all weddings are like that. Some couples still fall in love, get engaged, and wait until they are joined before God and man to act like they are married. And those weddings seem to me to be especially joy-filled.

We were privileged two years ago today to have one of those weddings. Our daughter met the brother of one of my friends very briefly when he was in town before he deployed to Iraq. They communicated via computer and letter during his deployment. He came and stayed with our family a few times while on leave and after he got back. They went out on a couple of dates in November and December, and he spent Christmas with our family, then she went to Wisconsin to spend Christmas with his.

When he came for a visit for Valentine's Day, he brought a ring, and asked her father's blessing before he proposed. She said yes. And gave me six months to plan a wedding for almost 300 people.

Perhaps because everyone involved--the bride, the groom, her family, his family, the pastor--had the same understanding about what this day was about, there was no drama. This was a day about joining a man and a woman in the union that reflects the union of Christ and his bride the Church. This was a day that was about creating a new family.

And, once the ceremony was over, this was about throwing a party at which our family and friends could have an awesome time without driving her father into penury. And the bride was okay with that. She was looking forward to being married!

So we used a simple rubric to determine where we should spend money and where we should cut corners: Will this expenditure add to the enjoyment of our guests? If the answer was yes, we did it. If the answer was no, with very few exceptions, we didn't. And it was a great party. Certainly not the fanciest: paper plates and plastic cups are far cheaper than renting china and glass. The table decor was containers from thrift stores that were filled with flowers from Sam's Club by the bride and her friends. And lots of friends helped with preparations, allowing us to keep costs under control.

Am I saying that there is anything wrong with china, gorgeous flowers, etc.? Absolutely not! If we could have afforded it, I would have loved to have done things in a more elegant way. But it becomes a problem when couples put off marriage to save up for the show, or when families go into debt for a bash that they can't afford. We've been to lots of weddings over the years of all different levels of simplicity. We've been to receptions that were formal sit-down dinners at a country club and those that were snacks, cake, and punch in a church hall. They've all been lovely, but some stand out in my mind as having been permeated with a joy that comes from the fact that the vast majority of those present understand that something more significant than a legal check mark was happening there.

And today I am happy to celebrate the second anniversary of one of those. Happy anniversary, Bethany and Evan, and wishes for many many more.

Bonus: The other benefit that comes after an awesome wedding. . .

Strange goings on

This is a very strange restaurant in the smallest town in Connecticut. I know about it because this is where my friend Lori and I waited for a ride and a tow truck when my car misbehaved on the way home from visiting my daughter in New Hampshire. There was an old car full of young hippies/woodsmen, too. With dogs. And a guitar.

The whole thing was very surreal.

The $250 tow was pretty solid, however.

But we made it home, back to normal life, and all is well. Except at the grocery store.

First, I only ever go to this particular store because they carry the yogurt that I prefer and generally have better produce than the closest one does. Today they were out of the yogurt. The lettuce was six days past the sell-by date. They were out of the fresh green beans that were on special. They were out of salted butter. They no longer carry good parmigiano. So I was already feeling like I would have been better off at the store closer to home.

In the check-out line I was disappointed because the rather surly cashier didn't ask if I had found everything, like they usually do. I was ready to give her the list. After I paid and as I prepared to take my cart and leave, I felt something slam into my back and knock me into my cart.

It was a motorized shopping cart. One of the people of Walmart--we saw a few today, or maybe it was pajama day at the grocery--appeared to have escaped and was at Kroger, allowing a two year old boy to help her pilot the cart.

Yes. I was hit by a motorized shopping cart. I have a bruised back and a sore neck, knee, and ankle, too. I feel like I did when I was rear-ended at low speed. I'm probably going to have to make some visits to the chiropractor.

One of my friends said that the weirdest things happen to me. Yes. Yes they do.

Ratafia!

When I got 1/2 bushel of peaches and needed to get them taken care of as quickly as possible, I turned to one of my favorite cookbooks for preserving ideas, The Fancy Pantry by Helen Witty. The second recipe I saw was for peach ratafia. What Georgette Heyer fan could pass up the chance to make ratafia? So in about six weeks, I'll let you know what we think.

Peach Ratafia


1 cup granulated sugar
½ cup packed light-brown sugar
½ cup water
3 cups sliced peeled ripe peaches
Peach kernels (if you are able to get them out of the pits!)
1/8 teaspoon ground mace
1 quart good-quality brandy
1. Combine the granulated sugar, the brown sugar, and the water in a saucepan. Bring the mixture to a boil and boil the syrup briskly, uncovered, for 3 minutes. Cool the syrup.
2. Put peach slices and the kernels into a 2 qt. glass jar or crock with a snug cover.
3. Stir the cooled syrup, the mace, and the brandy together until they are completely mixed. Pour the mixture over the the peaches and stir the whole business. Cover airtight. Set the containers aside for at least a month and preferably 6 weeks. Stir or shake the contents once in a while.
4. Strain the cordial through a fine-meshed sieve bottle it (if corking, use new corks only.) Refrigerate the fruit.

From The  Fancy Pantry by Helen Witty

Grandma's Bread and Butter Pickles

Soak for 3 hours:

2 qts. sliced cucumbers (Thin)

1/3 c. salt (Use pickling salt.)

2 onions (med.)

Add 2 c. celery last soaking hour

Bring to boil:

2 c. vinegar (Heinz is best. Really.)

2 c. sugar

1 t. celery seed

1 t. mustard seed

½ t. turmeric

Add drained pickles & let come to good simmer.

Fill clean jars. Process in water bath for 10 minutes. ( My grandma didn't do this, but, based on recommendations in the Ball Blue Book, I do.)

30 Years

This Saturday is my 30 year high school reunion. I am unreservedly looking forward to it. Facebook is largely responsible for this.

I didn't go to college with any of my high school friends and didn't really stay in touch with anyone, with the exception of a couple of guy friends. I was in contact with them during college and sporadically thereafter, but other than that, in the pre-Facebook world, I knew very little about what anyone from my class was doing. Once in a while I would hear a bit of news about a death, a divorce, or a promotion if my parents or in-laws knew the family, but I had moved away and, with some relief, had pretty much left Anderson behind.

A couple of times in the past I tried, out of a sense of obligation as a class officer, to pull together a reunion with varying degrees of success. But I really didn't want to be there. Then Facebook came along. I joined in January of 2007, a few months after FB opened up to anyone. I had a college-aged daughter who was on and encouraged me to join. I loved it. I had been living my social life largely online since 1996, so this was just an extension of that for me. It wasn't until a year or so later that I began connecting with people from high school. It has been great. I have really enjoyed getting to know people that I only knew slightly in school. I have enjoyed getting to see photos of the children of friends. I have loved reconnecting with my dearest friend from elementary school who I grew apart from in high school--after I lived out of state for a number of years and moved back--but always admired for her faith and her solid sense of herself.


The people who will be there are a mix: some of my best high school friends; people who I didn't know well then, but have gotten to know on Facebook and really look forward to seeing; and even a couple of people that I didn't know at all. I wish more of our class was going to be there. Only about a sixth of us will make it. We've lost what feels like a substantial number of our classmates to death. There are more that we've lost track of. Many, seemingly most--like many of my post-high school friends--have no desire to be there.

But I am looking forward to it.

My online garage sale

I'm going to try something a little different here. I'm going to list some things that I have for sale and link to this from a few places and see what happens. Normally, I pretty much give stuff away when we're done with it, but we had bad tax news this year and I'm kind of in recovery mode. However, I'm still hoping this is a win-win. I can get rid of stuff and someone else can get a deal on what they need.

So, this is how this works. I'm going to make a list here of what I have and what I'm asking for for it. You email me at j a c e 4 0 @ gmail . com (leaving out the spaces) and tell me that you want it and if you think the price is fair. If you are local, we connect. If not, I will ship it, but you will need to pay for shipping. If you have questions about any of these, feel free to ask.

I will put a line through things as they go. I will also likely add some things, so check back.

CURRICULUM and BOOKS
--The Well-Trained Mind (excellent condition) $5
--Usborne Illustrated Dictionary of Math (unused)  $3
-The Landmark History of the American People Volume 1 (Sonlight, 1987) (unused) $5
-Mathematics: A Human Endeavor by Harold Jacobs (excellent condition) with Instructors Guide (looks like someone set a cup down on it)  and Student Workbook (unused)  $20
--Introductory Algebra,( Lial, Hornsby Miller,) 6th Edition PLUS Student Solutions Manual (good used condition) $10
--Beginning Algebra, (Tobey, Slater) 4th edition $5
--Critical Thinking Book One (1998, Critical Thinking Press) and Teacher's Manual (excellent condition) $5
--Critical Thinking Book Two (1998) and Teacher's Manual (excellent condition) $5
--Kaplan SAT Strategies 2008 Edition (excellent condition) $3
--Chronological and Thematic Charts of Philosophies and Philosophers (1986) $3
--Bluestocking Guides (Great accompaniments to the Uncle Eric books) (All excellent condition)
                         --Ancient Rome $2
                         --Solving the Money Mystery $2
                         --Political Philosophies $2
                         --Justice $2
--Editor-in-Chief  Books B2, C1, C2 (1999, Critical Thinking Press) (unused) $2 each or $5 for all three
--Critical Thinking in United States History Series, Bks. 1-4 (Critical Thinking Press) $10
--Key to Percents, Books 1-3 and Answer and Notes Book (unused) $4
--Key to Metric Measurement, Books 1-4 and Answer &and Notes Book (unused) $5
--Key to Measurement (English Units), Books 1-4 and Answer & Notes Book (unused) $5
--Key to Geometry, Books 1-8 and All five volumes of answers & notes (unused) $15
--Key to Geometry Answers and Notes, five volumes $3
--Key to Geometry Books 7 and 8 (unused) $3
--Key to Geometry Book 8 (unused) $1


GAMES
--This vs. That (Unopened, shrink-wrapped) $5
--Sleuth (Unopened, Shrink-wrapped) $5
--Bookopoly (Unopened, Shrink-wrapped) $5
--Bang! (unopened, Shrink-wrapped) $5
--Bananagrams (unopened, Shrink-wrapped) $3
--Kuduk (Cards in box shrink-wrapped) $3
--Guillotine (Cards still shrink-wrapped) $3
--The Amazing Labyrinth (Ravensburger) ( Never Played) $5
--Go to the Head of the Class (Played) $3
--Trivial Pursuit DVD, Pop Culture 2 (Opened) $5
--Loco! Card Game (Sealed) $2
--National Geographic Flash Cards   $1 each pack
                        -Presidents
                        -United States Flash Facts

NEW UNUSED COOKBOOKS
Rachael Ray 30-Minute Get Real Meals $2
Fix it and Forget it Lightly $2

Figuring it out

If I am overly chatty next time you see me, please don't hold it against me.


It seems that in a world that is supposedly dominated by extroverts, (and yes, I realize that the technically correct spelling is "extravert," but that is marked as a misspelling and I hate those red underlines,) I seem to have an uncanny knack for finding the introverts.

Most, if not all, of my good friends are introverts, so I frequently read things that they share about understanding introverts. And I admit that, as an extrovert, I sometimes get a little annoyed by the caricatures of extroverts that are employed as comparisons. So when a blog post was linked on Facebook about introverts getting lonely I almost didn't read it. But I love my friends and I figured that if it was linked to, it was important.

And I'm glad I did, because it helped me figure something out. I am a basically happy person. My default is cheerful. I'm a realist about the larger world, but optimistic at the same time. I love my family, my friends, my job, my church. But for a long while now I have been in a funk. Crabby and short-tempered. I've had a couple of people suggest that I am depressed, but I know that's not the problem. I've been depressed. This isn't depression.

Reading that blog post it hit me like the proverbial bolt from the blue.

I am lonely. Horribly lonely.

I spend a huge amount of my time alone. My husband works in another state and is only home on the weekends. My daughter is married and lives out of state. My sons are busy with school, work, and friends, and when they are home they have homework and other interests. I have wonderful friends, but they are all busy with jobs and their own families, so I rarely see them. But, that said, I really don't think that this is about a lack in those closer relationships. (Except for my daughter, the deserter. ;) )

I have cut back on my activities, trying to ease some time pressure, but have lost some casual social contacts that I am now thinking might have been more important to me than I realized. I no longer haul kids to activities where I get to sit and talk with like-minded moms. I have left boards and committees. For fifteen years I had a succession of very social home-based businesses, but no longer. I'm not busy any more. And while I enjoy having time to do things around my house and having some freedom from time pressure, I'm not sure the trade-off is worth it.

I find myself pathetically happy to have a five sentence conversation with a barista or electrician. Church council meetings are a highlight of my month.

Don't be confused; I'm not bored. I work. I read. I do genealogy. I scrapbook. I try to keep up with my house. I have plenty to do. I just enjoy every single bit of it more if I have someone else to do it with or talk to about it.

I need to figure out if, in trying to build some margin into my life I haven't stripped too much out. Getting my (introvert) husband back will make some difference, but that isn't going to happen anytime soon. When I talked to him about this he gave me lots of good ideas, if I were an introvert looking for a job. (To say he doesn't get it is a major understatement.)

 Any suggestions are welcome. This isn't a post to guilt my friends into more frequent coffee chats. I need to figure out some way to fill my need for that light social chit-chat that my introvert friends hate so. I need to find the balance between busyness and nights spent staring at Facebook wishing someone would say SOMETHING.

Margin rewind

So, after my last very optimistic post I found out how quickly margin can disappear: Emotional, physical, time, and money all in the space of about a week. Wiped out. It only takes a couple of unexpected events, plus some bad timing, a few sleepless nights, and suddenly BAM, you're back to square one. If that.

But I'm not giving up. If anything I am doubling down on creating margin in the areas where I have control. I have finished the book and--thank goodness--found some things that I am doing right already among the many things that I need to improve.

And I realize that if I hadn't already been working on creating margin, the couple of horrible weeks that I had could have been worse.

I have some steps that I am going to be taking to create more margin. More about that as I solidify plans.

Margin multiplies

Maybe the book will talk about this. I don't know. But what I do know is that margin multiplies.

It does. It is rather amazing.

It started with just thinking about margin and realizing that I needed it. Over a couple of weeks I planned in project time and empty time, among the hustle of work and other activities. Putting OPEN time on my calendar meant that when things happened during the week and ate up my project time, I still had my Sunday afternoon that was for whatever: a nap, a project, reading, cleaning. Whatever.

I chose to use the free time to clean my pantry, a task that had been bumped by a couple of unexpected trips across town earlier in the week. This picture is the after. The before had me embarrassed to have anyone in my house,  completely clueless about what was in my pantry, and completely incapable of finding anything that I was fairly certain was in there.

Besides, I LOVE this room. It holds some of my favorite things. It is a beautiful space. I'm lucky to have it. And I want to enjoy it.

But that isn't what this post is about. It's about margin multiplying.

Since I got the pantry cleaned and organized, I was able to fix dinner Sunday through Wednesday without making a trip to the grocery. (Which means I got to miss the beginning of the month food stamp crowd and the oh-no-a-snowstorm! crowd.)  This also meant that I didn't have to squeeze a trip to the grocery in and that I got to use the time for other things.

Since the pantry was done, my Wednesday afternoon project time was spent on paperwork. I got bills paid. Looked at budgeting for the next couple of months. Balanced the checking account. And I got most of the papers that we need for our taxes pulled together over two weeks before I meet with the accountant. (By the way, talk about a decision that gave me margin!) I identified two things that I am missing while there is still plenty of time to get them.

I have margin at work. I am now consistently working at least two weeks ahead.

Knowing what was in my pantry alerted me to some things that need to be used up. This is going to save us money in the long run. More margin.

For me, one huge benefit that I am already seeing is a reduction in worry. This means that I slept like a baby last night. Nothing was nagging at my brain. Good sleep means waking up ready to go. I was able to move through a very busy day feeling like I was firing on all cylinders. Today was incredibly productive. Productivity means that I got more done today than I had planned at work, so I don't need to work tomorrow. More margin!

For some of you, all of this is going to seem so obvious. But for me, with my ADD brain and my heretofore chronically over-committed life, this is a revelation.

Pray for me, that I will be able to maintain it.