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My time has been consumed with painting and working – the week before Mother’s Day was wonderfully, crazy busy!

I’ve painted the entire living room and the hallway a nice cream color called Whispering Wandering Beige – they’re completely done, yay!  I found a couch and overstuffed chair with two matching tables at a nearby thrift store and they look fabulous in my new living room.  I think that all I need in that room now is a TV and lots of plants 🙂

The office walls are now a nice, light blue but I still have to paint the ceiling a crisp, white and then it will be finished.  

The kitchen ceiling has it’s first coat of the WWB but I still have to do the second one to finish it off.  Then the walls between the cupboards and counter will get a sagey green color to be a nice background for my strawberry decor and the cupboards themselves are cheap but dark and look fairly decent so I don’t have to try and make them look pretty until later, much later.  I’m running into a minor delimma because I really want to get blue dishes but I’m not sure if that will go with the strawberry theme and I’ve been collecting strawberry stuff for at least 15 years now… I don’t want to give up either one of them so we’ll see how I can work blue in with green and red, lol.

My friend gave me a washer and dryer and her family brought them over, her husband installed them and made sure they were working which was sooooo nice!  It seems weird how happy having my own washer and dryer makes me and I am so grateful for my friend and her husband!

The bathroom and the master bedroom are untouched by fresh paint as of yet and while I’ve asked my church for help moving my stuff out of the mini storage I haven’t been anywhere near as on top of them to pin down a time and date as I usually am.  I’m even considering not going to church tomorrow if I wake up tired, which will eliminate my touching bases with the pastor’s wife about getting help for moving…

I. Am. Procrastinating.  Yes I am.  Usually I like painting and can just whip out one painted wall after another but this time around it seems to be much more difficult for me.  I think I’m not trying very hard to move because I’ve never lived alone in my entire life and the closer I get to it the more nervous I’m becoming.

I know, intelletually, that being alone and being lonely are two different things.  My counselor has made sure to point it out to me as well.  But aside from one month or so before I got married, in 41 years I’ve NEVER lived alone, how weird is that?  And what on earth am I going to do with myself every night after work?

Sometimes I worry that I am not as brave as I need to be in order to see this whole “single” thing through but moving forward is my only option.  Therefore, I’m going to have to finish my painting next week on my days off so I can move in no later than the end of the month.  I still need a bed though. ugh!

I should probably get a cat.  Actually make that two cats because I’m gone about 11 hours a day when I work and it would probably be better if they could play with each other instead of being bored while I’m gone and shredding everything I own. 

Then again, maybe I should just get a fish…

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I confess, I do almost all my blogging late at night when I can’t sleep.  Then again it is the only time I can be sure of remaining uninterrupted… <sigh>  But I don’t stay up purposefully to blog and I guess you could probably track how well I sleep by the length of time in between posts – what a crazy life I live!

Let’s see, I’m tired of the negative going on in my life and nothing has really changed anyway. I think I’ll write myself a fairy tale.

Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived alone in the woods of an undiscovered island in a cottage by a stream running into the ocean.  She slept when she was tired, ate when she was hungry and wore whatever clothes suited her fancy and looked good with bare feet.  She made molasses crinkle cookies, sponge cakes and divinity any time she felt like it and drank Dr. Pepper all day long.  She loved making a fire on the sand and could watch the flames dance all night, sometimes she even danced with them.  She enjoyed the beauty of the ocean and filled her cottage with pretty shells, oddly shaped stones and the occasional driftwood from the beach.  For fun she made paintings of the trees in her forest and after the sun went down she sat at her piano to write songs and sing to her hearts content.  She was not lonely because she talked to the animals and trees in the forest, and to herself.  She had intelligent conversations when she answered herself.  Her life was full of beauty and tranquility.  She lived a nice, long time and died peacefully while reclining in a chair on the beach, staring out over the water.  After she breathed her last breath the ocean embraced her in a large, gentle wave and pulled her to itself, never to be seen again.  Many years later an explorer discovered her cabin and brought her music, art and shell collection back to the mainland where it was supposed to be displayed in a museum but wound up getting lost in storage and eventually was sold off one piece at a time in curiosity shops up and down the coast.  The End.

Ha, ha!  That was fun and it made me giggle!  Maybe I can go to sleep now and dream of my cottage on an undiscovered island…

Isn’t it supposed to be really calm in the eye of the hurricane?  I kind of feel like that’s where my husband and I are at… We’ve been working our way through several different issues and have worked things out just enough to have made visible progress towards a common goal (staying married) but I see a storm coming in that we each have separate goals as well and our separate goals do not necessarily play well with each other.  This could get ugly…but not today.

Sunday afternoon was no fun at all.  He was angry about several things and giving me the silent treatment…ahh the “good ‘ole silent treatment”, those few words pretty much sum up the first 10 years of our marriage.  Him being silent because he was mad at me and me being silent because I never knew what would set him off next…

But to be fair, God has really worked on his heart and the silent treatment is almost a thing of the past.  It used to be that when he was upset with me he wouldn’t speak to me for weeks and I would get the evil eye whenever he looked at me during that time period.  Then slowly, over the last 7 years, the silent treatment started lasting only 1 week instead of 2, and then it was only 5 days instead of 7, and then we reached a point where it was only 3 days and now, finally, the silent treatment lasts approximately 3 hours.  Nowadays I usually get a heartfelt apology before the day is over if he realizes that he was hurtful to me in some fashion.  So yes, there is definite growth and improvement in him and he’s really not the terrible schmuck you probably think he is from reading all of my other posts.  He’s just a regular guy with regular problems.  He still needs to get over them but nothing about my life with him is life-threatening.

I know we have more battles to face.

1.  There’s the whole joint counselling sessions that we will need to go to that he doesn’t think are necessary.

2.  There’s our extreme personality differences – we took a personality test while we were engaged and were strongly encouraged by the pastor NOT to marry because of the results.  Obviously we paid no attention to the godly advice we were given and went full-steam ahead into this 19+ year disaster we’ve called “true love”.  Ugh..  I’ll not get into those now, I think I’ve pretty much listed them all in one post or another…

3.  How we are raising our teenaged daughters has become a source of disagreements between us.

4.  Where we attend church is still a sore spot with both of us although we have managed to put this issue on the back burner for now and are focusing on the more immediate problem of our marriage.

But right now, at the moment, we are in a peaceful place.  The Eye of the Hurricane – hopefully will give us a chance to catch our breath, step back from our problems and refresh ourselves for what’s coming next.  Do I know what the future holds?  Uh uh.  But God does and I am choosing to trust Him a little more each day and that decision seems to bring the Eye of the Hurricane with me, wherever I go.  It follows me, keeping me in the center of that peaceful, restful place until it’s time for me to join the battle again.  In the mean time I just keep praying… save me, save me.

We watched The Hobbit last Friday and the line that really stayed with me was when one of the dwarves is talking about Bilbo and says “He’s been lost ever since he left home” and it got me to thinking – where is it that I’m lost the moment I stray from it?  I’m not sure…  It kind of comes back to the question of “Who Am I, Really?”, except with a twist, “Where is it that I am at home?”

Not in my house, that’s for sure.  I type these blogs in secret, worried that my husband will find them because I don’t feel like I can express myself openly without upsetting him and I’m tired of being “madded at”.  Not tired enough to put my foot down quite yet but that’s probably coming soon.  I feel like I need to figure out who I am first, before I can stand up for myself, otherwise what’s the point?

Not in my car because I don’t have “my own” car anymore.  It was my idea to have my husband trade my car in for his current dream car because mine was starting to have transmission issues and I’d had it for almost five years and was ready for something different.  It turns out that I won’t be getting something different for quite a while due to finances so in the meantime I am stuck with a car that gets great gas mileage and was really nice in its day but it’s not a SUV and I don’t really want it.  Yes, my daughter called me “Goldilocks” when I brought all this up…  Long story short is that I don’t have my own mobile castle anymore and I didn’t realize how much I would miss it.

Not at work, are you kidding me?  I was a receptionist for years and never realized how much privacy I had at the front desk until I “moved up” to my current job.  I now work in a space that is roughly 25 x 15 feet and I share with three other gals.  Also, about a dozen more people walk by our workspace constantly throughout the day so there is no such thing as a private phone call.  The other girls can see my computer screens at all times so I try not to do anything personal with emails or internet at work.  I can’t listen to music during normal business hours like I used to when I was a receptionist and my group doesn’t do a lot of chatting so it can get pretty quiet.  I never thought I would mind the silence until I couldn’t have music!

Not at church, at least not for over a year now anyway.  I have a few differences of opinion with The Way Things Are Done and my husband and I have had multiple discussions about leaving this particular church – I’m for it and he’s against it.  This has proven to be a very difficult subject to compromise on and has a lot to do with our more-than-normally rocky relationship over the last 14 months.

I have a couple of friends whose homes I feel “at home” in.  I can relax, let my guard down and breathe… but I can’t live there.  Well, actually, I’m pretty sure they would take me in if I showed up on their doorstep needing a place to stay but that’s not really a permanent fix for anything.  Also, I don’t feel lost when I leave their houses – it’s more like leaving a vacation to go back into the real world.

So that about covers all the physical places in my life without answering the question of “Where is it that am I lost the moment I stray from it?”  I think the closest answer I have is not a place but an activity – being Creative.  When I can’t journal, write music, draw or paint my world loses color and I am lost in the grey.  I’m not horribly good at any of these things but there’s something about Creating that restores me and makes me whole.  The good news is that I can be creative just about anywhere and am not limited to one place, which multiplies my opportunities to defeat depression and color my world with all the rainbow shades of acrylic paint and colored pencils that WalMart offers…

In the end I am still lost, but not as much as I was for a while there.  I am finding myself in the blues and greens of paint swirled on canvas and in the black and white of words on a page.  I am… Creative.

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