For many months, or probably years, I had been listening to sermons on suffering. While listening to them, I found myself counting my blessings. Most of these sermons are tied to life events such as illness, the death of a loved one, parenting children who have strayed from the church or their own faith, depression, anxiety, etc...Upon hearing many of these lessons from the pulpit, I found empathy for individuals close to me experiencing these trials, and while I was praying for them, I was also thanking God. I have three amazing children that all profess belief in Christ. They know their Rock
and Redeemer. I have a loving husband, a good job, and no immediate health problems. To say that I am thankful for these things may seem trite to some, a word that is perhaps overused along with blessings, but oh so true. These are things often taken for granted. Full disclosure, though, I also found myself saying "When is my time coming?" Things are going too well.
And so begins my story of the summer and fall of 2019. My own season of suffering, of sort. I will write my thoughts based on the days because that seems the best method of recall for me. It also allows me to think back on each event and reflect before I move forward to the next season of watching what God has in store for us.
Somewhere around June 4th, 2019 I have a mammogram. This is no big deal to me. I have been going every year since I turned 30. My mom passed away from breast cancer at the age of 43, but was diagnosed in her 30's, so I am high risk. Through each year, I have received one callback. It was nothing, so when I get a call back for a second mammogram this time, I am not worried at all and don't even give it a second thought.
June 17, 2019 I have an appointment with Dr. Alicia Glass, OB/GYN. This will be my first visit with her as my regular OB Dr. Gordon Bryars passed away back in October of 2018, so I am nervous. Due to his medical leave of absence, I am a little behind on my GYN appointments. She is very sweet, sincere, and calm and reminds me that tomorrow I have a mammo and will get the results at the end of the week. My cervix, however, looks great! Again, I am not concerned.
Meanwhile...I have been looking for a job in Birmingham. Lowell has driven that commute for seven and a half long years and I have watched the drive wear on him. My children are all out of the nest, at least for the most part except for Hannah who is away at college. Special Education is a field that is always looking for teachers, so I have been applying for a few months. I have two interviews on June 18th, but tell myself these will be the last and if nothing comes of them, I will stay in Tuscaloosa. There is nothing on the line. I am happy in my current position at TCTA but am not opposed to change if the Lord opens that door.
June 19, 2019 Dr. Kristi Sayers contacts me to offer the job at Oak Mountain High School. I am surprised. I thought I blew that interview for sure when I answered that I wanted to have my own classroom, and this position is for Inclusion, which basically means co-teaching for those of you not in tune with education terms. I accept the job!!
A few days later, Dr. Glass calls to tell me that there is something wrong on my mammogram. There is a suspicious cell on my left breast. She is referring me to a surgeon. I take the first available, since I don't have a preferred doctor. This is all new to me. That happens to be Dr. Gross, and I have an appointment with him on July 10th.
June 21, 2019 we celebrate Lowell's 55th birthday!!
June 23, 2019 Lowell and I leave for our planned two week anniversary trip. 30 years!! We travel to Gatlinburg, TN; Niagra Falls, NY; and Lake Placid, NY.
June 28, 2019, while in Lake Placid I receive a text from my step mom Barbara. Dad is not doing well in the residential facility. He has stopped eating and drinking. The nurses say that is a tell tale sign of the ending stages of dementia. Barbara will call Hospice to come and care for him at Whitesburg Gardens going forward.
I respond to let her know that we are praying for him to begin eating again and that he will not get any type of infection.
Saturday June 29, 2019 the Hospice evaluation is that my dad may have 10 days or less to live. I receive this text during lunch atop Whiteface Mountain in New York. Lowell and I will check out in the morning from the lovely Golden Arrow Resort and make the two day trip to Huntsville. It is important to us to help and support Barbara. Half of a vacation is better than no vacation. Acadia National Park and the Boston area are not going anywhere, so we will attempt to visit again sometime. This glass is still half full.
Sunday, June 30th, 2019, my dad turned 86 years old. I believe he slept through this birthday. He doesn't appear to be in any pain according to Barbara. Praise God for that.
Thursday, November 21, 2019
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Random thoughts somehow tied together...
Today is Easter Sunday, 2014. Last year at this time I was lost in my own sort of Blah! I remember the thoughts as I reflected on the first Easter that all my kids were not home. It was tough, but it was also a reminder that Easter isn't about who you spend it with. It is about the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, our Lord. He has risen, INDEED!!
This year I was happy to have all the kids home. James and Hannah played in our tiny orchestra at church. That was a blessing. The music was a wonderful addition to an already glorious day. I cooked the traditional roast, rice and gravy, and green beans. We had dinner and then Scott hid eggs for Hannah and James. He is so clever. He told H and J that some of the eggs (golden and blue ones) contained something extra special. Of course that sparked some "friendly" sibling competition, but the prizes were typical Scott. A folded napkin, pop gun bullets, a plastic ring. Nothing to fight over to be sure. I love Scott's sense of humor.
Changing thoughts, two days from now, on April 22, it will be 9 years since my grandmother "Nanny" passed away. There are still many things that remind me of her. For example, she taught me how to cook a roast. It was her meal for company. We always had one when we visited her house in Mobile. Her love of flowers is another reminder. Huge azalea bushes surrounded her red house on Hunter Avenue in Mobile. She always had containers of flowers on her patio...well tended and cared for. The first few years of my marriage, she would always send me home with something to plant...daisies or a hydrangea bush.
That brings me to the thoughts behind this post. In December, God gave me a gift. No one else would ever appreciate this except me. When Nanny moved in with me in 2003, I brought a Christmas cactus from her house and kept it on a table in her room. I have never in 11 years seen a flower on that cactus. I also dug up some kind of bulb from her flower bed and planted it in my own flower bed. I believe the bulb is some type of lily, and each year it bloomed in the spring it would add one more flower. Last spring, no lily flower. I think my bushes choked it out. Nonetheless I was pretty sad. I looked for my reminder of Nanny and all that she meant to me, and it wasn't there. Well, as you may have guessed, that year in December, the Christmas cactus was in full bloom. I didn't do anything different. I gave it the same amount of water and light. It just bloomed...all over. Not just one tiny flower but plenty. God's gift to me. His reminder that he remembers me. He knows me inside and out, sins and desires and goodness. He knows me well enough to cause a flower to bloom and remind me that I am His.
28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. Matthew 6:28-29
Blessings,
M
This year I was happy to have all the kids home. James and Hannah played in our tiny orchestra at church. That was a blessing. The music was a wonderful addition to an already glorious day. I cooked the traditional roast, rice and gravy, and green beans. We had dinner and then Scott hid eggs for Hannah and James. He is so clever. He told H and J that some of the eggs (golden and blue ones) contained something extra special. Of course that sparked some "friendly" sibling competition, but the prizes were typical Scott. A folded napkin, pop gun bullets, a plastic ring. Nothing to fight over to be sure. I love Scott's sense of humor.
Changing thoughts, two days from now, on April 22, it will be 9 years since my grandmother "Nanny" passed away. There are still many things that remind me of her. For example, she taught me how to cook a roast. It was her meal for company. We always had one when we visited her house in Mobile. Her love of flowers is another reminder. Huge azalea bushes surrounded her red house on Hunter Avenue in Mobile. She always had containers of flowers on her patio...well tended and cared for. The first few years of my marriage, she would always send me home with something to plant...daisies or a hydrangea bush.
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| Nanny's last birthday with us...age 97 |
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| The Easter Lily...even though that isn't the right name. |
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| Christmas Cactus |
That brings me to the thoughts behind this post. In December, God gave me a gift. No one else would ever appreciate this except me. When Nanny moved in with me in 2003, I brought a Christmas cactus from her house and kept it on a table in her room. I have never in 11 years seen a flower on that cactus. I also dug up some kind of bulb from her flower bed and planted it in my own flower bed. I believe the bulb is some type of lily, and each year it bloomed in the spring it would add one more flower. Last spring, no lily flower. I think my bushes choked it out. Nonetheless I was pretty sad. I looked for my reminder of Nanny and all that she meant to me, and it wasn't there. Well, as you may have guessed, that year in December, the Christmas cactus was in full bloom. I didn't do anything different. I gave it the same amount of water and light. It just bloomed...all over. Not just one tiny flower but plenty. God's gift to me. His reminder that he remembers me. He knows me inside and out, sins and desires and goodness. He knows me well enough to cause a flower to bloom and remind me that I am His.
28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. Matthew 6:28-29
Blessings,
M
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Moody Music and More part 2
Since my last post, I have logged five more hours of auditorium chair sitting at Honor Bands, so I thought I would give my readers a little glimpse into the "more". My previous post focused mainly on The Alabama Choir School, but here is a glimpse into the instrument world. These pictures will highlight Hannah's first District IV Honor Band at the Univesity of West Alabama, and James' last. Lots more auditorium visits in my future, don't cha think!
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| James' first Honor Band Samford, 2009 |
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| James' last Honor Band UWA 2014 |
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| Hannah at her 3rd Honor Band, but first at District UWA. She wore a skirt but changed before the picture. |
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| Middle School Honor Band |
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| 2009... |
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| 2014 |
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High School Honor Band |
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| Two fine musicians |
Friday, February 14, 2014
Moody Music and More
Once upon a time, way back in 1988, the Holtkamp organ was built in Moody Music Hall, Tuscaloosa, Alabama. I attended the first ever concert played on the organ. I was a junior in college. Aside from one Hilaritas concert, I don't recall any other occasion when I entered the Hall in college or grad school. Little did I know just how many hours I would spend in this acclaimed building in years to come. Last weekend during an honor band concert at Moody Music Hall I was reflecting on how things in life come full circle.
Some parents of young children participate in "bench sitting". This would be hours upon hours watching their children play various sports. While I have had my fair share of bench sitting, I can now say it has been replaced with more hours of "auditorium chair sitting".
So when did it all begin? My oldest son joined The Alabama Children's Chorus in 2004, when he was in the third grade. The Alabama Choir School holds its concerts at Moody Music Building. There are four concerts, two in the winter and two in the spring. Thus began my tenure as an auditorium chair sitter. Once again, I was watching concerts at Moody, only this time my own child was on the stage. S stayed in the choir until he was in the 8th grade. He moved up into the Alabama Resident Boychoir and finally, the Alabama Tour Boychoir. Meanwhile, middle child joined the choir. He began in the Resident Boys, and moved on to the Tour Boys and is currently in the Chamber Choir. You might guess that third child joined as well. She began in the Children's Chorus in second grade due to a generous scholarship, and has continued on ever since, working her way through Resident Girls and Tour Girls.
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| Holtkamp Organ |
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| The Alabama Boychoir Tour Boys Spring 2009 |
So when did it all begin? My oldest son joined The Alabama Children's Chorus in 2004, when he was in the third grade. The Alabama Choir School holds its concerts at Moody Music Building. There are four concerts, two in the winter and two in the spring. Thus began my tenure as an auditorium chair sitter. Once again, I was watching concerts at Moody, only this time my own child was on the stage. S stayed in the choir until he was in the 8th grade. He moved up into the Alabama Resident Boychoir and finally, the Alabama Tour Boychoir. Meanwhile, middle child joined the choir. He began in the Resident Boys, and moved on to the Tour Boys and is currently in the Chamber Choir. You might guess that third child joined as well. She began in the Children's Chorus in second grade due to a generous scholarship, and has continued on ever since, working her way through Resident Girls and Tour Girls.
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| This is the only year that all three kiddos participated in the concerts. The boys were in tour choir and Hannah was in Children's Chorus. |
The math for these concerts probably seems easy enough, four concerts per year for 10 years. But...band enters the equation. Honor bands and even middle school band concerts begin in the 7th grade. Middle child and youngest child are band members. More auditorium chair sitting. Keep in mind the chair sitting often applies to practices as well as performances. I've also done my fair share of backstage volunteering. Little did I know what was to come when I sat at that first ever Holtkamp organ concert. Time is a strange mind boggling thing to ponder.
So...aside from the thirty-something Choir School concerts I have attended, add to that performances in school auditoriums or at the Bama Theater. Yep...somewhere along the way J and H became interested in children's theater, so I added new venues to the auditorium chair sitting.
I suppose I am now living vicariously through my children. I have a background in music...cornet player and choir member...but I have always had terrible nerves and don't like to be in the spotlight. I have done my auditorium chair sitting through beginner band performances which sometimes need earplugs, great moments on stage and not so great moments on stage, and worked my way up listening to superior performances coupled with the Tuscaloosa Symphony Orchestra. Music and theater are a major part of my life as a parent. Kudos to the directors for countless hours of practices, the parents for chauffeuring the kids around, and auditorium chair sitters everywhere. See you at the next concert! M
So...aside from the thirty-something Choir School concerts I have attended, add to that performances in school auditoriums or at the Bama Theater. Yep...somewhere along the way J and H became interested in children's theater, so I added new venues to the auditorium chair sitting.
I suppose I am now living vicariously through my children. I have a background in music...cornet player and choir member...but I have always had terrible nerves and don't like to be in the spotlight. I have done my auditorium chair sitting through beginner band performances which sometimes need earplugs, great moments on stage and not so great moments on stage, and worked my way up listening to superior performances coupled with the Tuscaloosa Symphony Orchestra. Music and theater are a major part of my life as a parent. Kudos to the directors for countless hours of practices, the parents for chauffeuring the kids around, and auditorium chair sitters everywhere. See you at the next concert! M
| Handsome singers! |
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Sprechen Sie Urban*
Blog? What's that? Well, I still know what a blog is, and that I have a blog. I just haven't had much to say. I know, right...hard to believe.
Some of you know that James participated in the Tuscaloosa Sister Cities program to Schorndorf, Germany this summer. He spent ten days with a host family, and also took a side trip to Paris. Part of that deal is that the German's come to Tuscaloosa in October. Each American family has the option of hosting the German student that served as host to (James) in the summer. I must admit that when I encouraged J to apply for this trip, I wasn't considering this. Hosting someone in our home is way out of my comfort zone. I figured that we would not have to reciprocate. There would be somewhere else for Lukas to stay. Ummm...not exactly. James asked me if Lukas could/would stay with us. He really wanted to do this. I did not. I must be honest and say this is something I agreed to only for the love of my child. I did not want to let him down. So, for two weeks in October we had a visitor. A 15 year old German student from Schorndorf (actually Wylie). If you are wondering, the connection is through Mercedes.
It wasn't bad at all, really. The American host students planned most of the social events. James attended more parties in those two weeks than he has all year. There were even plans for dinner most evenings, although J opted out. He and Lukas stayed at home and we sat down to the family dinner. This is where we really got to know Lukas. Again, I am reminded how thankful I am that we have made a habit of supper together. It is where we talk and get to know each other.
Another Urban family thing we kept in place was Sunday morning church. This is just part of what we do. Our family has been attnding church together since the kids were born. We attend Riverwood Presbyterian, PCA. Lowell and I have been members for 24 years. This is our family. This is where we go to set our minds and hearts on that which is most important in our lives...our Lord Jesus Christ.
We took Lukas to church with us twice. On the first Sunday, I had no idea what he would think or do. Lowell and I didn't have any leading as to whether we should discuss the service first or just let Lukas observe and participate. So we didn't say anything. As I sat there the first Sunday morning, many thoughts were flying through my head. "I wonder if he knows the Lord's prayer?" "I wonder if he knows to stand and sing?" "I wonder if he knows what a sermon is, and since we have all male leadership, does he even know that we have not had a sermon yet?" And most of all, "Will he take communion?"
These thoughts caused me to reflect on my own experiences with the church. I suppose you would say I grew up in the Lutheran church. That is where I had my first communion, attended Bible school, sang Father Abraham and about Noah building an "Arkie". What was the name of that song, anyway? Rise and Shine?? I digress. Then there was a lapse in my church years until my mom became sick with cancer and began attending the Methodist church. Here I attended membership classes, memorized creeds and prayers, and joined the Methodist church. Just a few months later, my mother passed away. Another break in church until a wonderful friend of ours and mother of my best friend at the time invited me to the Presbyterian church. There I have stayed, although Lowell and I changed to the PCA when we moved to Tuscaloosa.
The thing is, though, I did have a background in the church. I was familiar with the order of the service, the hymns, and the Bible stories. As I thought about Lukas, I wondered...what if he has never been to church. Many German's stay away from the church. Most are Catholic or Lutheran. They have beautiful cathedrals yet they stay empty. Growing up in the Bible belt, I can't imagine what that might be like. I found myself thinking, why don't I ask everyone I know if they have even been to church. Not if they know the Gospel, just if they attend church. Surely if something is such an important part of my life I should be sharing it with everyone. My church family is awesome. Come and meet them sometime. If you do that you will surely come to know the goodness and mercy of Christ.
As it turns out, Lukas attends a Protestant church in Germany. They even went when James was staying with them but J did not attend because he knows not a word of German. Well, I think he knows about six now :-). I don't know the depth of Lukas' faith, but I am glad he has a foundation. I am glad he attended church with us and youth group with J in spite of the language barrier. I am proud of James for choosing to hang out with his family on several nights when they could have gone elsewhere. I think Lukas had a good time, and I enjoyed having him. No surprise, really. I am used to teens. They are much the same no matter what nationality. I also found that there were many more German phrases tucked away in my brain than I had remembered.
*So if you want to know why I ripped off Scarlet Simms' blog title, I found myself wondering what Lukas thought of our family. For two weeks he found himself "speaking Urban". We are who we are, I suppose. By the end of the two weeks, the house had returned to its usual messy state, we had to eat left overs on the run in order to make it to Friday night football games, and we were a bit tired and whiny. But all in all it was nice, and I am glad I agreed to do something out of my comfort zone for James. I hope Lukas will come back some time, and bring die ganze familie.
High school football season has drawn to an end. Fall is in the air and today Lowell and I went hiking to enjoy the crisp air. Here are a few pics of our afternoon hike at Lake Nichol. Behold the Glory of God.
Some of you know that James participated in the Tuscaloosa Sister Cities program to Schorndorf, Germany this summer. He spent ten days with a host family, and also took a side trip to Paris. Part of that deal is that the German's come to Tuscaloosa in October. Each American family has the option of hosting the German student that served as host to (James) in the summer. I must admit that when I encouraged J to apply for this trip, I wasn't considering this. Hosting someone in our home is way out of my comfort zone. I figured that we would not have to reciprocate. There would be somewhere else for Lukas to stay. Ummm...not exactly. James asked me if Lukas could/would stay with us. He really wanted to do this. I did not. I must be honest and say this is something I agreed to only for the love of my child. I did not want to let him down. So, for two weeks in October we had a visitor. A 15 year old German student from Schorndorf (actually Wylie). If you are wondering, the connection is through Mercedes.
It wasn't bad at all, really. The American host students planned most of the social events. James attended more parties in those two weeks than he has all year. There were even plans for dinner most evenings, although J opted out. He and Lukas stayed at home and we sat down to the family dinner. This is where we really got to know Lukas. Again, I am reminded how thankful I am that we have made a habit of supper together. It is where we talk and get to know each other.
Another Urban family thing we kept in place was Sunday morning church. This is just part of what we do. Our family has been attnding church together since the kids were born. We attend Riverwood Presbyterian, PCA. Lowell and I have been members for 24 years. This is our family. This is where we go to set our minds and hearts on that which is most important in our lives...our Lord Jesus Christ.
We took Lukas to church with us twice. On the first Sunday, I had no idea what he would think or do. Lowell and I didn't have any leading as to whether we should discuss the service first or just let Lukas observe and participate. So we didn't say anything. As I sat there the first Sunday morning, many thoughts were flying through my head. "I wonder if he knows the Lord's prayer?" "I wonder if he knows to stand and sing?" "I wonder if he knows what a sermon is, and since we have all male leadership, does he even know that we have not had a sermon yet?" And most of all, "Will he take communion?"
These thoughts caused me to reflect on my own experiences with the church. I suppose you would say I grew up in the Lutheran church. That is where I had my first communion, attended Bible school, sang Father Abraham and about Noah building an "Arkie". What was the name of that song, anyway? Rise and Shine?? I digress. Then there was a lapse in my church years until my mom became sick with cancer and began attending the Methodist church. Here I attended membership classes, memorized creeds and prayers, and joined the Methodist church. Just a few months later, my mother passed away. Another break in church until a wonderful friend of ours and mother of my best friend at the time invited me to the Presbyterian church. There I have stayed, although Lowell and I changed to the PCA when we moved to Tuscaloosa.
The thing is, though, I did have a background in the church. I was familiar with the order of the service, the hymns, and the Bible stories. As I thought about Lukas, I wondered...what if he has never been to church. Many German's stay away from the church. Most are Catholic or Lutheran. They have beautiful cathedrals yet they stay empty. Growing up in the Bible belt, I can't imagine what that might be like. I found myself thinking, why don't I ask everyone I know if they have even been to church. Not if they know the Gospel, just if they attend church. Surely if something is such an important part of my life I should be sharing it with everyone. My church family is awesome. Come and meet them sometime. If you do that you will surely come to know the goodness and mercy of Christ.
As it turns out, Lukas attends a Protestant church in Germany. They even went when James was staying with them but J did not attend because he knows not a word of German. Well, I think he knows about six now :-). I don't know the depth of Lukas' faith, but I am glad he has a foundation. I am glad he attended church with us and youth group with J in spite of the language barrier. I am proud of James for choosing to hang out with his family on several nights when they could have gone elsewhere. I think Lukas had a good time, and I enjoyed having him. No surprise, really. I am used to teens. They are much the same no matter what nationality. I also found that there were many more German phrases tucked away in my brain than I had remembered.
*So if you want to know why I ripped off Scarlet Simms' blog title, I found myself wondering what Lukas thought of our family. For two weeks he found himself "speaking Urban". We are who we are, I suppose. By the end of the two weeks, the house had returned to its usual messy state, we had to eat left overs on the run in order to make it to Friday night football games, and we were a bit tired and whiny. But all in all it was nice, and I am glad I agreed to do something out of my comfort zone for James. I hope Lukas will come back some time, and bring die ganze familie.
High school football season has drawn to an end. Fall is in the air and today Lowell and I went hiking to enjoy the crisp air. Here are a few pics of our afternoon hike at Lake Nichol. Behold the Glory of God.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Thrifty bathroom facelift
I had a little fun this week. I painted the bathroom. In our house we call this the girls' bathroom, I guess because it was previously pink and flowery. Let me say I really liked the bathroom the way it was. The wallpaper, however; was probably original to the house which was built in the 70's. It was a floral metallic Impressionist kind of print. I have always liked the Impressionists, particularly Monet so it pleased my eye. Unfortunately, the seams were pulling away from the wall. I have contemplated (for about two years) whether to try and fix the seams, or repaint. Finally tired of the peeling seams, I opted for paint. I knew what my wall would look like once I peeled the wallpaper, because I have done this once already in another bathroom. Only the pattern comes off of the wall, and it leaves a fuzzy texture behind. This can be removed as well with a little water spray and elbow grease, but I am lazy!! I have not wanted to go to the trouble of removal. With that being said, I have to give full credit to this decorating idea to my niece Alyssa Urban. Her bathroom walls look the same, but are a different color.
Here are the pictures of the previous paper. You can see how the seams were pulling away from the wall.
Here are the pictures of the previous paper. You can see how the seams were pulling away from the wall.
Deciding on a color was tough. I was going to go with a pink rose color to match the existing shower curtain and towels. I thought I had some paint lying around in that shade but I didn't so I looked around some more. I found a gallon of paint in a neutral shade. It was given to me by our painter a couple of years ago. He just had it "lying around". So the price was right!! Free. I had to buy a new roller and I got white tissue paper at the Dollar Tree. Twenty sheets. I also had a little extra lying around the house from gift wrapping. Cost so far? $4.78
Yes. I said tissue paper. I gave my walls a Feaux finish using tissue paper. It is very simple but also quite messy.
- Step One: Tear the edges off of the tissue paper Keep some of the strips to place along the trim and then wad the paper up.
- Step Two: Smooth out the papers and place them in a stack.
- Step Three: Paint lines along the trim. It is very difficult to line up a full sheet of tissue paper with the ceiling or floor.
- Step Four: Put on glovesand then with a roller, paint an area slightly larger than the tissue paper. While the paint is still wet, press the tisssue on to the wall and smooth out the wrinkles. There is no set look. Make it as bumpy as you wish.
- Step 5: Paint over the tissue paper with the roller. Be sure to keep a wet edge and repeat the process. If you don't have a wet edge the tissue paper won't stick. That's it!
Warning, this is not for you if you are in any way inclined to perfectionism, or OCD, or any other term you might want to call such tendancies. This method is for those who want to hide imperfections, and still have a cool look on the wall. Or those who are too lazy to scrape wallpaper, or have bumpy drywall :-).
Okay, so that being said at this point I now have a bathroom with a shower curtain and towels that do not match. I have no idea what I am going to do to coordinate with the new look. Possibly a fancy new shower curtain in a coordinating color. I'm not in a hurry to finish that. I will get to it when the budget allows, UNTIL...I stopped at a garage sale on Thursday. There sat a full shower set for only $15. Set includes: two bathmats, one hand towel, shower curtain and matching tabs, wastebasket, a planter, and a cute picture of a palm tree. I actually liked it and low and behold it matched. SOLD! So...who is keeping up? That brings my total cost to $19.78.
All I am missing now is the shower liner. I chose K-Mart because it is close to the house and all I needed was one quick item. Ummm...guess what peeps? K-Mart still sells the shower set, and the curtain alone was on SALE for $16.99. Yay! Now I am feeling even better about my garage sale find and savings. Also if I need a soap dish or something like that I know where to go. So I purchased the liner for $4.98 and went home. Wait...I had some $$$ on my rewards card so the liner was more like $2.98. Happy, Happy thrifty me!!!
The bottom line: Under $25 for a bathroom facelift. The final test: My daughter, and I quote: "I like it much better than my old bathroom." "I love palm trees." Me, too girl.
The Reveal
If you look above the picture you can see the texture on the wall. I took down the old pink towels that don't match anymore, and I'm not sure when I will replace them. The pic is a little grainy because I lowered the resolution on my phone camera.
Thanks again, Alyssa.
Blessings,
Monica
Saturday, July 13, 2013
No Hope For Jellyfish
I am a beach walker. I have been since my teenage days. The reason stems from vacations with my step-mom Barbara and my dad. If you know me, you already know my dad remarried when I was 13, after my mom died from breast cancer the previous year. They bought a condominium in Perdido, Florida so many days were spent there decorating and planning. NO offense to them, but my brother and sister were off to college and being the teen that I was they were not cool to hang out with, so I tooks lots of walks. They also took me along on some beach vacations where I spent plenty of alone time on the beach tanning or walking. One year I got my worst sunburn ever. I had goose bumps but still managed to get burned. I digress.
June 30 my dad celebrated his 80th birthday. The whole family gathered at the condominium complex. I took a long beach walk every day. I am finally able to do that again because all of my childern are now old enough to go to the pool or beach without an adult present. And one of my childreen is an adult, and can supervise. How about that for cool.
Okay, so I got to take a really long walk. You see many interesting things along the beach, and it is never the same from day to day. That is the beauty of it. On this particular afternoon, the tide had washed up several pools of water. These can be pretty yucky...filled with foam and broken shells, or sometimes they are close enough to the breaking waves to be clean and enjoyable for the little ones to play in. This one was a little yucky, but fairly deep. I looked down to see a jellyfish swimming in the pool. It was fascinating to watch. I could see it swim sideways and watch its tentacles at work. Then I felt sorry for the little guy. He was certainly about to die. The water was prety shallow. Unlike something else that may have washed up, I couldn't pick up the jelly and throw him back to sea! Ouch! So I proceeded to do the best I could at pushing the jelly into the deepest part of the water pool. I used my foot and some sand. Minimal success. Then I continued my walk. Who knows how far.
After turning around, I searched each pool along the way to find my jellyfish. No luck. Why? The tide was no longer coming in as high, and water was not reaching the pools anymore. The pool was empty...for that matter all of them were, and all I found was a (actually numerous) dead jellies. Heavy sigh!!
Now you are thinking...who cares. No one likes jellyfish anyway. They sting and drive people out of the water. You are right. My story continues. The water on this particular afternoon was beautiful. It was clear and the waves were just right. If ever there was a day for swimming in the ocean, this would be it. So my kids and their cousins plunged in with Boogie boards in tow. When I walked up to our claimed spot of beach, I found our cousins looking forlorn. What's wrong, I asked? The answer...jellyfish. My kids did not get stung, but their cousins did; hence, off to the pool and clear water. I stayed down by the beach and watched the crowd. I was amused by a couple of adults with nets, who really must have wanted to ride the perfect waves. Both men would enter the water, catch jellies in their nets, and take them on the shore and bury them. This cleared the way for a little swimming. Very little, because five minutes later they were fishing them out again. Finally one guy gave in and said...too many jellies!
So you see, there is no hope for the jellyfish. No one likes them in the water, because they sting, you really can't remove them from the water, and if they wash up they are certain to die. In this case they kept a beautiful ocean free from swimmers. One of the best days we had actually, but no swimming in the ocean.
I am glad I am not a jellyfish. I am so thankful that there is hope for my soul.
I don't know if there is a time when you can feel closer to God, but I do know that my walks on the beach come pretty close. This is the hymn that came to mind that day.
My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus' blood and righteousness.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.
His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.
When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found;
In Him, my righteousness, alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.
June 30 my dad celebrated his 80th birthday. The whole family gathered at the condominium complex. I took a long beach walk every day. I am finally able to do that again because all of my childern are now old enough to go to the pool or beach without an adult present. And one of my childreen is an adult, and can supervise. How about that for cool.
Okay, so I got to take a really long walk. You see many interesting things along the beach, and it is never the same from day to day. That is the beauty of it. On this particular afternoon, the tide had washed up several pools of water. These can be pretty yucky...filled with foam and broken shells, or sometimes they are close enough to the breaking waves to be clean and enjoyable for the little ones to play in. This one was a little yucky, but fairly deep. I looked down to see a jellyfish swimming in the pool. It was fascinating to watch. I could see it swim sideways and watch its tentacles at work. Then I felt sorry for the little guy. He was certainly about to die. The water was prety shallow. Unlike something else that may have washed up, I couldn't pick up the jelly and throw him back to sea! Ouch! So I proceeded to do the best I could at pushing the jelly into the deepest part of the water pool. I used my foot and some sand. Minimal success. Then I continued my walk. Who knows how far.
After turning around, I searched each pool along the way to find my jellyfish. No luck. Why? The tide was no longer coming in as high, and water was not reaching the pools anymore. The pool was empty...for that matter all of them were, and all I found was a (actually numerous) dead jellies. Heavy sigh!!
Now you are thinking...who cares. No one likes jellyfish anyway. They sting and drive people out of the water. You are right. My story continues. The water on this particular afternoon was beautiful. It was clear and the waves were just right. If ever there was a day for swimming in the ocean, this would be it. So my kids and their cousins plunged in with Boogie boards in tow. When I walked up to our claimed spot of beach, I found our cousins looking forlorn. What's wrong, I asked? The answer...jellyfish. My kids did not get stung, but their cousins did; hence, off to the pool and clear water. I stayed down by the beach and watched the crowd. I was amused by a couple of adults with nets, who really must have wanted to ride the perfect waves. Both men would enter the water, catch jellies in their nets, and take them on the shore and bury them. This cleared the way for a little swimming. Very little, because five minutes later they were fishing them out again. Finally one guy gave in and said...too many jellies!
So you see, there is no hope for the jellyfish. No one likes them in the water, because they sting, you really can't remove them from the water, and if they wash up they are certain to die. In this case they kept a beautiful ocean free from swimmers. One of the best days we had actually, but no swimming in the ocean.
I am glad I am not a jellyfish. I am so thankful that there is hope for my soul.
I don't know if there is a time when you can feel closer to God, but I do know that my walks on the beach come pretty close. This is the hymn that came to mind that day.
My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus' blood and righteousness.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.
His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.
When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found;
In Him, my righteousness, alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.
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