A Novel Life

Wow.

If yesterday had been a book, it would have been a thriller with all sorts of plot twists.

There was the irate client issue to resolve. When I tried to deal with her Friday, there was no talking to her. I referred her (gladly) to my co-owner and tried to brace her for the storm to come. Except when she came in this time, she wasn't irate. She was rational and reasonable and will probably be a new client. Win?

Then there was the matter of my schedule which played fruit basket turnover. Last minute cancellations led to frantic calls to people on the waiting list which led to the 2 hour lunch that opened up shrinking to 15 minutes. (That's O.K., I'd rather be busy. But my tummy does have a bad habit of demanding food every so often.)

Then, my final client of the day, whom I looked forward to because I knew would be a basic, simple highlight, surprised me by saying, "I colored my hair a few weeks ago and I want to match it and brighten it up with some highlights."

Le sigh.

T'was not a big deal, in fact, it paled in comparison to some of the other doozies I'd faced recently, but it did considerably tax my last two remaining brain cells...

But in the midst of the flurry of activity and the apparent emotional unbalance of some people, I watched God pave the way and details fall into place.

But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him. James 1:5

Funny...I Never Thought of Taxes as "Fancy"

Spring

when a girl's fancy turns to

trying to

CATCH UP

a year's worth of tax information

and get it to the accountant.

Throw Back

This is my favorite commercial of all time. (I think...well, today it is.)

There's My Plan, or We Could do My Plan...

Yes, this week has been challenging. Our school had a memorial service for Jessie on Saturday. My husband and I wanted to go, although neither of us had met her. I think we were feeling a sympathetic grief as parents. DH was invited to play the piano at the service which gave him an invitation and opportunity to Do Something.

I didn't go, since our daughter didn't know the girl and I was dealing with my own drama that day. It was the first free day I'd had at home and I was all motivated to move heaven and earth (or at the very least, rearrange the dust around the house), and I woke up with a tension migraine. I was puzzled, aggravated and frustrated. Puzzled, because I'd had a massage the day before. Aggravated, because "how dare my body rise up in rebellion like that?!" (And after all I had done for it!) Frustrated, because I had no time to be sidelined.

You know what? I've spent the whole week griping about that. About how my weekend didn't go as I planned. About how I don't have time to do what I need to do and then, when I do have time, this happens.

Why?

Why am I still whining about this?

Because I don't like not being in control.

It makes me mad when I think I've orchestrated my circumstances to my specifications and a monkey wrench knocks them off kilter.

I fret because I know that another weekend will have to roll around again before I really have time to Get Things Done.

And then, there are a myriad of other things to fret over, so my mind turns thoughts over and over like so many worry beads.

Then I am reminded of the verse in Matthew 6:27 that says: "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"

I'll give it another shot this weekend. I'll do what I can where I can and leave the rest to another day.

And maybe I'll have time to make a cool necklace out of those worry beads.

Sacrilege

Going about my daily life seems sacrilege.

As if I don't realize life has stopped.

Yet I rise, make coffee and go about my day as if nothing has happened.

Sacrilege.

Life has been arrested. But no bond has been set because, no amount of money can buy it back.

Yet life goes on.

Sacrilege.

As a society, we've grown to expect things instantly. Coffee, cash, food...but not death. Yet it happens more instantaneously than anything else on earth. Something we'll never get used to.

Sacrilege.

She wasn't my daughter, yet I find that can't grieve enough for someone I didn't lose.

In honor of Jessie, a 15 year old student at my daughter's school who died unexpectedly last night.

It's Not ALL About Me...or...My Husband Makes Jewelry!

Being and artist, I am so blessed to be married to a man who is also an artist. My husband is a multi-talented man. He is a photographer, writer, poet and has newly discovered a talent for jewelry making.

Here are his first creations.


The earrings are not pre-formed. He snipped and bent each piece of wire by hand.



The necklaces are from a pre-made metal choker. Hubby took pre-made pendants and embellished them with wire attaching them to the choker.

I am most proud (and impressed) with the bride and groom choker. This is completely his original design. He used a pre-formed choker to spiral around his choker base and then attached the charms. I've already put in my order for one! It will be fun looking for just the right charms for it!

I'm so proud of him! It's been interesting to collaborate on some things with him. The difficulty I find is, since I'm an artist too, I want to run with my idea instead of giving him creative freedom to do his project!