Like - - - 'Duh'

Have entered into a time of apathy. Found myself sitting, staring into the front yard and I honestly don't think that there was anything I was thinking about. Kind of a deep 'zone'. I didn't like it. I jumped up and went outside and mowed the front lawn.

That's happening to me a lot lately. I'm not sure why, but I think it has something to do with mom. Saw Jarred on the computer this afternoon and it was the first he'd heard of it - the red cross was supposed to let him know. He was stunned. Well, so am I. He just has an excuse and I don't.

This'll give it away.

Not anger, hate guilt or jealousy.

My thing is the most self centered thing in the universe, but always, ALWAYS thinks of others first.

Ok . . .I'm bringing it on.

I'm thinking of a thing. It's not something you eat, but it tastes bad.

It'll eat you alive if you let it, but it has no mouth to consume anything.

Just Like We Were Around the Dinner Table

What an amazingly smart son I have!!!!

Yeah, it was grace.



That's ma'boy!

20 questions continued

It is not love and it is not God.

It is concrete hard. But It can't be touched. If you fall against it, you will die eternally. If you fall into it, you have heaven.

While it is contained in one little word, it cannot be measured by any standard.

20 questions

I'm thinking of a thing.

It's way bigger than a breadbox.
It's intangible.
You can't breathe it, but it's vital to life.

Let the Publishing Begin!

I made Robert do it, but I did it. The Book is in cyber space!

Spent Sunday dong the scan thing, then the 'put it all together thing' Went to Church then came back and made Robert send it. I just couldn't hit that stupid 'send' button.

Now is a good time to do the purge thing. I think I'll go somewhere and throw up.

" . . with murmers too deep for words."

You can't hold those that don't believe to the same standard of those that do.

You can't beat up someone with scripture that doesn't recognize the validity of that scripture.

You can't stop loving someone even though they look you in the face and say they're sorry for your pain, but not sorry for the sin.



. . .and then . .


You can't accept sin as ok.

You can't support the sinful behavior.

You can't let go of Christ to keep that relationship.

God's call.

Time of Day

It's sorta scary when your favorite time of day is getting into bed at night. I thought of that last night after I took a bubble bath and scooted into bed, hugging the king sized pillow and putting the Egyptian cotton one under my head. Nellie was snoring on Roberts pillows next to me and Brymer was curled next to me (he had tooth surgery yesterday and felt puny). I've said it before, I'll say it again; There's just something about clean sheets after a bath.

My least favorite time of day is right around 3pm. I'm all sluggish, the B-12 has worn off and while I have all the evening stuff looming, all I want to do it take a nap. And it never fails, you give in to that impulse and the phone rings, kids shout outside while coming in from school, Brymer barks at a jogger. . . . you get the idea.

What's your favorite and least favorite time of day?

Birthdays

Funny how the mind works.

I remember thinking how hurt I was that mom didn't call me last year on my birthday. I wasn't devastated, but still, it bothered me to have just a little more proof that I was not important. I realize now that because of the increasing dementia, she probably forgot. I didn't know that then.

But I know that now. And that makes things easier. She won't be calling me again this year - with another good (no, great) reason. I can see now that she is as blameless now as she was then. I just got to see it from another angle.

Like God just put things in perspective that quick.

Well, this is depressing!

I always read that life was short . . .and to make the most of it when I was younger. I rolled my eyes and skipped the slop of all of that because to me life was this long, tedious congregation of minutes that had to be filled.

Time seemed to drag. The sun was hotter then and the winter was miserably cold. You are in a hurry to get places to do things that brought back some type of gain. The world was an unending wait to ride a bike, then drive a car, then go on a date, then get married, then have kids, then buy a house . . blah de blah de blah.

Now I see so clearly that life is a congregation of minutes that has to be filled. I feel like a rat, trying to catch up on important things. Things that bring in real gain. Like smiles and friends and Sunday mornings, and yappy little dogs or horse sweat, or grand babies hug . . .. you get the idea.

I finally am beginning to realize what those things are. And I haven't the energy to go for it. How rotten is that?

Ok . . . this is scary

Have 'finished the book . . am allowing Amy to read it so she can edit it for me. And I am SO scared I think I'm gonna be sick. Although I know it's not her kind of book, still, I hope she isn't bored to frustrated tears.

This putting yourself out there stinks. Wish this wasn't so important to me.

. . and then . .

And then I remember what Amy told me a while back - "Even if I end up with only one book to pass to my grand kids, it will be worth it."

She's a smart chick.

Ruby

My boy is 26 years old today.

Man! Rob's birthday has been buried all the lint of my life lately, but when I allow myself to remember back on that day I have to grin. I was 19 and scared to death. Robert was in Omaha Nebraska, fresh out of boot camp. God knows I can't handle pain, so the labor was only 4 hours start to finish.

He was supposed to be named Lauren (I hadn't realized then that 'Lauren Hutton' had been taken) because the doctors said that his heartbeat was that of a girls. (This was obviously before the sophisticated ultra sounds of today.) I thought if I had a boy, I'd call him Brandon, but when I saw him, it wasn't a Brandon that looked back at me. It was a Ruby. He was and has remained my priceless gem.

And Mom was there. I'd forgotten that. She was there for me when he came into the world and he was there for me when she went out of it.

Jaci, Jah and Julie left this morning at about 3 am. I've been busy getting the house ready for a showing, wiping fingerprints off the glass in the flordia room and watching the swing sway with the wind. Wadda bummer.

But, on the "Johnson" side, I think we've been adopted by this red heeler. Don't know if it's a boy or girl, just know it has a lopsided ear and a great face. And it's asleep on the front step.

Hey, it's not Jah or Julie, but at this point I'll take what I can get.

Writing Therepy

Things still going mach 8. Everyone tells me that to enjoy all the hub bub now because when it all settles, I'll have to face what's happened.

Right now I can look back on it all with this kind of dispassionate attitude. Like a book you read even through the really slow parts to reach an ending that is less than satisfying.

Interesting, but not worth reading again.

Is that what I have left of her?

8 days

Man. Has it been a week already? Over a week. The funeral for mom was three shakes past horrible and I had the flu during it all. Now, we're all sick sick sick with the flu, Jaci, Jah and Julie included. Robert was REALLY bad - about 104 degrees for like 3 days. But James was almost admitted with pneumonia.

And then the big freezer broke. There was blood everywhere in the garage.

. . . and then . . .

It rained. And it's supposed to keep up. And Robert had to change a 'blow up' diaper. His face when I walked in was great.

(Insert heavy happy sigh here.)

Home

Time heals all. Right. I understand.

Hopefully, as long as there is nothing more to wound it, it will work . . . I will be able to get past this.

Eventually.

Rest

Don't you just hate 'courting' sleep?

You lay there, forcing yourself to relax, thinking of quiet things, (I always like to do the 'thanksgiving prayer' thing) but like some guy who won't commit, you just seem to flirt with sleep, falling in and out, having those fuzzy half dreams. And you wake up tired.

Smell no evil

One of the biggest worries I have about showing the house is the smell. You know what it's all about. Every time you went to peoples houses when you were a kid their houses smelled weird. Sometimes bad - I'm reminded of once visiting my friend Deanna and I smelled this AWFUL smell. So after we went to bed, I decided (for some reason) to get up. I opened a door to the outside and almost ran smack into a skinned coyote that was hanging there in the breezeway right outside her bedroom. GAG!!! That stink mystery solved.

Don't you hate it when you clean and scrub and think it's ll good and then there comes a humid day that releases scents you thought best left in the sewage pool? So I'm walking into the kitchen for my coffee today and it hits me. I have to walk past the flordia room that now holds memories of the cat I've given away. What a thoughtful sap.

Hope I got a lot of fabuloso.