Category Archives: Thoughts

Days Like This.

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There are days.  And then there are days.  

The year was 1996.  I was seventeen.  And I had this car.  The most amazing beast of a thing you ever did see.  It was green.  And it was a boat.  And it was older than me.  My 1977 Buick LeSabre was the stuff of legend and I loved every inch of it.  I called her “Greenbean.”

Generally speaking, I was a good driver.  An overly cautious driver.  Responsible.

I should have seen it coming, but then hindsight is always 20/20.  

I stopped at the convenience store to fill up on gas and pick up a lazy summer afternoon snack box of Junior Mints.  After starting up the beastly engine and securing my seat belt, I kicked her into drive, gingerly easing out onto the adjacent highway, at the urging of a patiently courteous driver.  And into the oncoming path of a callously impatient driver.   Pulling to the side of the road and into a nearby parking lot, I get out to survey the damage.  And oh, great.  The other driver?  A guy I vaguely know from school.  

In those days, most of us (including me) did not have cell phones so I go inside the business next door to call my mother, who promptly calls the police and rushes right over.  No one is hurt.  His little muscle car is totaled.  My ferocious animal of a car is largely unscathed (whew!).  

The police arrive.  I get some kind of warning citation.  Mom goes back to work.  And after nearly an hour of this ordeal, I prepare to climb back into my lovely green car and then it dawned on me:   The Junior Mints.  What the heck happened to my Junior Mints???  It didn’t take long to discover the entire box or Junior Mints emptied, smashed, melted, and utterly destroyed on the driver’s side seat.  And it didn’t take much longer to realize this same terrible scene was duplicated all across the backside of my light-washed jeans. 

I can only assume this happened sometime during the point of impact.  And here I am walking around all over kingdom come along the busiest stretch in town, with what one would only assume is something other than chocolate appropriately smeared in the worst possible place.  

Perfect. 

I watched as all parties involved hastily drove off, vehemently screaming on the inside…  “I swear it’s only chocolate!!!”

And I wonder… does that cop still draw chuckles from his story of “the girl with the poo pants” over donuts and coffee with his comrades?  Am I the running joke at rookie training?  Does that kid from school tell his kids?


I think the moral of the story is pretty clear:  Junior Mints not only cause cavities, they cause accidents.   

All sorts of embarrassing accidents.  

“God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,
   his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning.
   How great your faithfulness!
I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).
   He’s all I’ve got left.” 

Lamentations 3.22-24
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Simple.

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I think that is one of the biggest reasons I love coffee so daRn much.  

Simplicity.  Beans.  Water.  Brew.  Done.

I’m a bit of a purist.  I drink my coffee mostly black.  Sometimes with a smidgen of sugar.  Or honey.  That’s it.  

Simple.   


The older I get (which I like to think isn’t all that old yet) the more I long for the simple things in life.  I really don’t want much.  I don’t need a lot.  In fact, whenever someone asks what I really want for my birthday or Christmas, I find it difficult to think of anything at all.  I have food on my table.  I have a lovely place to live.  My family is healthy and safe.  I have incredibly loyal friends.  Beyond that, I really cannot comprehend what might be important.  


I suppose that is why I am accruing a slew of gourmet coffees, kitschy coffee mugs, good chocolates, homey candles, and trendy scarves from well-meaning friends and family who have no idea what else to get me should an occasion arise.  And that’s not a complaint, because I truly adore all those things.  And I love that those closest to me know me well enough not to splurge too much.  I like simple things.  


Is it ironic that over the course of time, we have continuously innovated and modified our culture with inventions and technology designed to make our lives simpler?  To have more free time?  To make things easier?  Yet, as a whole, people are busier than ever (and grumpier), starving for real relationships (like the kind where you talk to someone’s face, reading everything they are feeling through their eyes, instead of misconstruing a facebook status), and jamming every parcel of spare time with something else (just for the sake of having something to do).  

Moments slipping away.  


It’s okay to relax.  It’s okay to keep it simple.  It.  Is.  Okay.  


And that’s what I keep telling myself.  

Our darling little town hosts a “Summer Sign-Up” event each May where parents can sign their kids up for every activity under the sun for the summer all in one sweep.  It really is a convenient little concept, however, I most generally walk away from the evening with a full calendar and empty pockets.  This year was different.  I walked away with hoards of paper fliers in hand, determined to just think about some things before signing our summer away.


And guess what.  I didn’t sign up for a thing.  Not a one!  (Except for the summer reading program at the library, which is free, and totally non-committal).   

I have the made the decision to take this summer and simply reconnect with my darling girls.  I want to dig for worms, roast marshmallows over the fire, camp out in the trees, throw a tea party under the perfectly aged peach tree, unearth family treasures and memories hidden in boxes packed away far too long, makeover their bedrooms into a dreamy wonderland all their own (involving them each in the creative process), bake cookies for a friend “just because,” go stargazing, lay in the grass and pick out cloud shapes, sew coordinating sundresses for all 4 of us, host mid-summer barbecues for all their friends and cousins, and I could go on.  And on.

And who knows?  Maybe we’ll like it so much that our “Simple Summer” will evolve into “Freedom-from-driving-20-minutes-into-town-every-time-I-turn-around Fall.”


Sometimes it’s okay to just be. 

And coffee.   Always coffee.  

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1-3God, my shepherd! I don’t need a thing.
   You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
      you find me quiet pools to drink from.
   True to your word,
      you let me catch my breath
      and send me in the right direction.

 4 Even when the way goes through
      Death Valley,
   I’m not afraid
      when you walk at my side.
   Your trusty shepherd’s crook
      makes me feel secure.

 5 You serve me a six-course dinner
      right in front of my enemies.
   You revive my drooping head;
      my cup brims with blessing.

 6 Your beauty and love chase after me
      every day of my life.
   I’m back home in the house of God
      for the rest of my life. 

Psalm 23  (The Message) 

This post is a part of Simple Lives Thursday.

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The Week.

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Last week.
My sweet husband will readily tell you that he doesn’t particularly care for that week.  He is not ever quite prepared for it.  And quite frankly when it’s all said and done… we are mostly broke.
It’s that week.  The week where one right after the other comes Peanut’s birthday, my birthday, Mother’s day, and graduation all in one sweep.  We devour cake til we burst at the seams, host hoards of   screaming, rambunctious  sweet, calm, and lovely girls for a sleepover, and deliver well wishes to esteemed graduates til the cows come home.  And somewhere in there, sweet hubby will find time to slip me a thoughtful card or whisk me away to a fabulous dinner.  Sometimes both.
To celebrate the passage of another year, I sipped expensive coffee, indulged in good chocolate, and savored every moment with my adorable little family.  
And I miss blogging.  Can’t wait to post some new recipes later this week.  And catch up on everything.
Now if I can just get through dance recital next week…
Love & coffee!
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Going Rogue.

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Ah.  Monday.  He shows up precisely every seven days, yet I am never quite prepared for him.

The deep, earthy aroma of freshly brewed coffee is wafting through my kitchen as I savor every pleasurable drop of coffee heaven.  For just a few more minutes, I would like to forget about the miles-long to-do list awaiting me on the kitchen counter.  Would love to run and hide for a bit longer…

The weekend proved to be entirely rejuvenating.  Although we still work and primarily conduct our daily business and errands in the “big” town 20 minutes away (population 7000ish), we are only 2 minutes away from the “little” town (population not-quite-a-1000) that is now a part of my address.  We ventured to the “little” town just to explore and meet people.  We dined at the sweet little eatery on main street, picked up some locally made root beer and barbecue sauce at the darling market on the corner, and watched the girls play and make some new friends at the local park.  God has an uncanny way of putting me in places I never thought I would be.  And helping me to love it anyway.  And I am truly content.

I am adjusting to country life quite nicely and have even taken a liking to the stray cats who hang around the house and love to sleep in our garage.  Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I am not a cat person.  I am not even really an animal person, although I am looking forward to getting a dog in the near future.  We have a fat yellow cat.  A really fat cat.  It occurred to me the other day that this cat is probably more than just fat.  I haven’t seen her in at least ten days, although I have searched high and low.  Perhaps something wonderful has happened… 

The white and gray cat sits on the deck off the kitchen and watches me work.  She slightly creeps me out.  The sweet little gray tom hunts June bugs on the kitchen deck in the evenings.  The white and black one seems to be a fraidy-cat.  The girlies seem to think we should name them.  I don’t know if I am ready for that, but as long as they are good little mice-hunters, they will be welcome here.

Over the weekend, Hubby asked me if I wanted to mow a bit and try out the new riding lawn mower.  He gave me a quick lesson (which I found entirely intimidating) and off I went.  I only got stuck in the weeds three times.  I secretly enjoyed it.  But please, don’t compare my side to Hubby’s side.  


One more coffee.  Then off to peruse my list and make some good things happen this week.

Happy Monday! 

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The Sensitive One.

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Whew!  I escaped last Monday’s debacle mostly unscathed.  My phone is in good working order.   My datebook got an “extreme makeover” and is now colored something I like to call “vintage brown” (Or poo stain.  Take your pick.).  My laptop is now fully reassembled and back in business, thanks to my incredibly talented hubby (so thankful I married a nerd!).  I admit, however, that I nearly had a heart attack when viewing my laptop spread out in itty bitty pieces on the kitchen table, meticulously undergoing the “decaffeinating” process by the aforementioned hubby.

Glad.  That’s.  Over.  
Transitions are hard for people like me.  And people like her.  My sweet, 5-year-old Ladybug, the sensitive one.  She emotionally attaches to people.  And things.  And she is fiercely loveable.  When we moved she cried for days.  It has been nearly a month since we moved, but she tells me it still doesn’t feel like home.  She doesn’t like it here.  And she misses her old room.  (Kid, rip my heart out and stomp all over it, will ya?)  
And today our faithful minivan went to the great garage in the sky.  We sent our beloved van to the scrap yard and watched as the big tractor hauled it away.  There was much wailing.  And sobbing.  And oh, the tears.  
Ladybug, lamenting something like, “I have always loved that van.  There will never be another one.  I can’t look at it like that!”  
Peanut was crying, too.  “I just know that I left my favorite Nintendo DS game in there.  Mom, pleeeeeeaaaaaase go check one more time!”  No, I will not be risking my life by rushing into the crusher for your video game.  Next!  
Little Lovey just wanted a sucker.  And I just wanted them all to stop the insanity.  (Earlier, I realized my fresh coffee was still steaming on the kitchen counter as I sped to town, late for an appointment.) 
Ladybug has informed me that we can only replace her with another black van.  Nothing else.  She doesn’t yet know that the new one is blue.  Sincerely hoping that goes over well.  It seems so silly, but even at the age of 5, she just really cares.  About everything.  I love that kid.  Someday she is going to make a really great nurse.  Or a teacher.  Or a veterinarian.  She has so much love to give.  
In her bedtime prayers, she lays bare her heart.  No one and nothing is left out her petition. 

She.  Is.  Fervent. 

She prays all kinds of things like:

For all the people with wells to have enough water in their well.
For all of the old ladies who were born in 1962.
For people who are blind to find cheap glasses.
For cancer to not be contagious.
For the plain Cheerios to magically turn into Honey Nut Cheerios by breakfast time.
For mommy to send leftover lasagna to the hungry children in Bolivia.

Ladybug’s evening prayer time is often my favorite 10 minutes of the day.  Yes.  Ten illuminating minutes of child-like faith and this mama choking back tears of pride and giggles of pure joy.

She is the sensitive one.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Love & Coffee!

“You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.”

Matthew 5.5 

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Tricky.

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What day is it again?  Oh that’s right. 

Monday. 

Scourge of the week. 

It all started out so good.  Really good.  Things are finally starting to feel normal around here.  I’m about 75% unpacked and the rest has been cleverly stuffed into the “Forget-About-It Room.”  Eventually this room will be presentable as a guest bedroom, but for now… I’d rather just forget about it.

Now I have the delightful task of picking out paint colors for each room, and the slightly less delightful task of removing wallpaper and actually painting.  But at least I can now locate my toothbrush, bake a pie, or do laundry to my little heart’s content. 

Now about that Monday thing.  It really was off to a good start.  Laundry started, kids dressed and fed, and coffee already flowing through my veins.  The kids were pleasantly keeping themselves occupied so I decided to take a few minutes to accomplish a small task I never seem to find time to do:  Figure out how to set my watch.  Not my good watch, but my inexpensive digital watch that I use when I go out walking or take along on a campout.  It’s been incorrect ever since the time changed and I can’t for the life of me figure it out.  It’s unnecessarily bedecked with way too many buttons.  So I sat down to my laptop to call in some reinforcements via Google.  The daRn tutorial instructed me to hold down three ridiculous buttons at the same time.  (see footnote)

And then it happened.

The cursed watch slipped from my grip, into my nearly full cup of coffee, which in my panic to get it out (way more concerned about tainting my coffee at that point), toppled the mug (nearly full, may I remind you) onto my laptop, spilling over onto my datebook (Yes, I still use one.  Don’t judge me.) and soaking my new cell phone in the process.  *sigh*

So it’s Monday morning and every important piece of my life is coffee-soaked, air-drying, and useless for the immediate future.  Thank you to my sweet hubby for trusting me to use his beloved computer in the meantime! 

He asked me if I learned my lesson.  What exactly should I take away from this unfortunate event?

No coffee by the computer?  Never.
Ditch the datebook for a smartphone?  Please, don’t make me.
Kick that hideous watch into oblivion?  A thousand times yes.

I’m off to brew more coffee, shop the internet for new watch, and make my Monday marvelous.

Happy Monday!

(Note: The “R” in daRn is intentional, to avoid looking like I improperly spelled a curse word.)

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Happy Sad.

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Life doesn’t stop.  It just keeps going, paying no mind to the hiccups that may arise along the way.  Since completing the move to our new home two weeks ago, we have unfortunately not had one single day to just be home. 

And unpack. 
And organize.   
And just be.

Regardless, it feels so good to be home.  Even if that means I am surrounded by boxes and a smidgen of chaos. 

The last couple of weeks have been chock full of happy-sad moments.  

We were met with the unexpected home-going of my beloved grandfather, or “Grandpie” as we liked to call him. 
Happy he’s free and his mind clear.  
Sad that he’s no longer here.  
I was also a part of a wedding! 
Happy for wedded bliss.  
Sad to see young people growing up so fast.  Makes me seem older than I feel.  
We celebrated Easter!
Happy for the life I have found in a Savior.  
Sad to not spend the holiday with all of my family as in years past. 
But I’m home.  The boxes aren’t going anywhere.  They will be there tomorrow.  And probably next week.  And maybe the next. 

More happy things:

I just discovered that there is a medicine cabinet behind what I thought was merely a large, oval mirror in one of the bathrooms.  (Yay for more storage!)

I found a new ranch dressing made from yogurt that is natural, preservative-free and only 45 calories per serving!  And it tastes absolutely amazing.  This is very good news for my waistline.

I have a new cell phone.  And a new cell phone company.  I still have no idea how my phone works, but at least I am getting a signal out here in the country. 

I finally have a fully functioning kitchen again.  No.  More.  Subway. (I’ll be updating my Recipes page soon.)

My heart (and my coffee cup!) are full.  It’s going to be a good day.
I don’t have a problem with caffeine.  I have a problem without caffeine! 
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Springing.

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This weather has been utterly unbelievable for an Iowa March and April.  Near 90s?  Unheard of!  I am pleased that Spring has decided to arrive early.  Winter turned out to be such a dud this year, that I am happy to see her go.  I cannot help but wonder, however, if we will end up with an April blizzard just for kicks. 
I am finally and officially moved into our charming turn-of-the-century farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.  It’s so perfectly perfect out here!  Never mind the mountains of boxes just screaming to be unpacked and organized… there are birds singing to me from outside my kitchen window every morning!  (Personally, I think they share my joy in the aroma of a sunrise coffee.)  Now all I need are one of those cute little bistro tables to grace my deck just off the kitchen to enjoy the aforementioned coffee.  (Husband, I hope you are reading this.)
We bought a shovel.  And a wheelbarrow.  And mousetraps.  You know, all those necessary country sorts of things.  
I have one week of country living under my belt.  Discoveries made thus far:
1.  People who install cheap carpet over beautiful hardwood floors are certifiably insane.  (Same goes for those who paint over perfect, ornate woodwork.)  But working on these floors has been a surprisingly rewarding project!
2.  We have a badger feeling quite at home in one of the sheds.  Ewww.  And eek.  And everything in between.
3.  I.  Hate.  Old.  Wallpaper.  (And picking out paint colors is not as easy as I thought it would be…)
4.  We have one internet option out here.  And its expensive.  And the hole-in-the-wall company would only install it if we got a land line phone, too.  So guess what.  I’ve got a land line phone for the first time in years.
5.  Our few-and-far-between neighbors seem super nice.  Like down-homey Iowa nice.  This is good.
6.  I have a peach tree right next to the house!  Guess who will be making jam?
7.  There is a whole row of lilacs out by the chicken coop.
8.  I also have a rose bush.
9.  It rained enough to fill the wheel barrow the other night.  And oh, the mud.  I must have mopped the kitchen floor at least a thousand times.  
10.  “Walnuts” found lying in the grass are walnuts.  “Walnuts” buried in the sand box are not.  And that big pile of “fill dirt” out by barn?  Yeah, that was deceiving, too…
We have a list of house projects about a mile long for my sweet hubby and I to tackle eventually.  Priority #1 is to finish unpacking.  Thank God for coffee. 
My, how I have missed blogging.  And now that I once again have a fully functioning kitchen (with a working refrigerator!), I am eager to cook up a storm and post some new recipes.  
Happy Monday, Coffee Lovers!
“The morning cup of coffee has an exhilaration about it which the cheering influence of the afternoon or evening cup of tea cannot be expected to reproduce.” 
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., “Over the Teacups,” 1891
This post is a part of Simple Lives Thursday.
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Soggy & Magical.

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It was a perfect mid-morning coffee break.  New organic blend.  Steamy and fresh.  PBS on the tube and my girlies chillin’ on the sofa.  
I really needed that five minutes.
Then I left the room for like a minute.  I swear.  I only went to return a stray hairbrush to the bathroom drawer.  I sat down to catch up on email and sipped my lovely coffee when something the consistency of pasty, wet cotton ball was introduced to my mouth.
(Cough.  Gag.  Regurgitate.)
Hmmm.  I studied the debris field splorfed out before me in a methodical, CSI-ish manner.  Of course.  This could be none other than a soggy tortilla chip strategically placed in my coffee. 
Let me reiterate the fact that I was gone for “like a minute.”  Mere seconds.  This was definitely the handiwork of my little Lovey.  Yes.  The 2-year-old. 
And I have to say that this scenario is rather indicative of my life at the moment.  It seems that every time I turn around.  Soggy.  In mere seconds.  Mush.  

This is merely a season.  A tough frustrating exciting, faith-building season.  I believe the best things in life happen when you are pushed beyond what you believe to be your own limits.  However, I find it increasingly difficult to wait.  And wait.  And wait some more.  I have never been accused of being patient.  But I’m trying.  Really.  And the not-so-distant future is shaping up to be pretty darn promising.

(Remember the Fridge Flap from February?  Yeah.  Still living out of cooler… for reasons I hope to divulge soon.)

Fast forward to the afternoon.  We stopped to visit my hubby at work.  I left for like a minute.  Mere seconds.  And there it was.  The office floor displaying a crayon mural.  Snap!  Lovey looked up at me and said, “Isn’t it magical?” 

And she was mostly right.  

Beautiful messes can be downright magical. 

” Your beauty and love chase after me
      every day of my life.
   I’m back home in the house of God
      for the rest of my life.” 

Psalm 23.6 (The Message)

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Coverings.

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I have daughters.  

Three.  Pretty.  Girls.

They are my dearest treasure.  The joy of my heart.  Love made real.


They are bubbly, vivacious, and cunning.  They are 7, 5, and 2.  And did I mention they are beautiful?  

How does one guard and protect such stunning effervescence from the wiles of a wayward world?  My sweetheart continually prays that God would “shield them from the eyes of wicked men.”  Could sweeter words be prayed over these precious gifts?  


So much to live for.  So much to be gained.  So much ahead.  I want nothing to hinder what goodness lies in wait for the future of my angels.  


And what should prompt such an intense line of thinking?  Today, I commenced bathing suit shopping.   

For 7.  5.  And 2.   

Label me a prude if you must, but I did not anticipate such a difficult task for… 

7.  5.  And 2.

My dear husband was specific about his standards in the most affectionately paternal way possible.  I can’t imagine anything more tender than a father desiring a covering for his daughters.  In the same way that he covers them in prayer, in wisdom, and in discipline.   

In the same way my father did for me. 

I found success in our quest.  But I only expect such things to grow more difficult with each passing year.  I do not pass judgment, but simply provoke my own heart to guard, in all things, those which have been entrusted to me.

My deepest desire is that my sweet little girls remain sweet little girls for as 

Long.  As.  Possible.

Love and coffee… 
Peanut, Ladybug, & Lovey
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