Still Free

About 18 months ago I embarked on a ‘poo free diet. No, not that kind of poo. I would be one hurting unit right now if that were the case. I gave up shampoo and conditioner. I don’t like not knowing what is in products I use and food I consume. I hate the use of chemicals in my house, let alone on my person.  Since I have no real idea what is in ‘poo and conditioner (and when did we stop calling it creme rinse?) I decided I could better my health and my hair by going without.

Of course this was not done without copious amounts of research. I voraciously read blogs and articles on the horrors of shampoo and conditioner.  When I read about the possibility of carcinogens in products I rubbed all over my head every day, I said “Enough!”

I have been using baking soda to wash my scalp at least every other day. I use a apple cider vinegar/vanilla/water mixture to condition my hair.  I haven’t looked back. Yes, it is easier to toss your shampoo and conditioner bottles in your overnight bag and away you go. My baggie of baking soda has been affectionately dubbed “my cocaine”.

It’s all good, but every time I see a police car on my travels I get a little scared. Not because I’m speeding. But because I have that little baggie of white powdery substance. Yes, one taste could prove my innocence, but who wants to eat raw baking soda?  I’m also concerned that they won’t taste it until after I’ve been booked and fingerprinted. Then they’ll run my prints through the computer and find out I’m an ax murderer from the 1860s.  And I’ve never even killed an ax, nor thought of killing one. I’m sure I’ve handled them in my time but kill one? Not on your life…or the life of the ax.

Yes, my mind really goes there.

Almost three weeks ago I gave up gluten. It hasn’t been easy at all. All of our go-to snacks are now off limits. We eat a plethora of fruit and nuts. The only problem with those two thing? You are what you eat.

Mr. FullCup told me the other day eating out is losing it’s appeal in his eyes. He misses the days when he just went somewhere and ordered what he wanted and ate it without a second thought.

I refrained from telling him, “Welcome to my world.” I’ve been white flour and sugar-free (for the most part) for a few years and it’s hard to eat out. It seems everything anymore either comes with bread or is breaded.

It’s not easy. But it will get easier, right?

Bueller? Bueller?

Desire vs. Reality

This is my desire:

from travel.yahoo.com

 

While this is my reality:

 

In the middle picture, I did just shovel the sidewalks and most of the driveway. What you can’t really see in the pictures is it’s a virtual blizzard. What is that saying about shoveling snow while it’s still snowing?

I’ve definitely had my smarter moments but I was thinking when I started shoveling. I was thinking of the load of snow I’d have to shovel when it’s done snowing and thinking I’d rather not have to shovel that! You see last week I waited and shoveled 12-18 inches of the white stuff.  It was not a barrel of fun, let me tell you.

I do enjoy shoveling…sometime. I like being outside, while I’d prefer to be outside at the beach, that just isn’t my reality.

Git a’long, little doggie

I was born with a healthy dose of wanderlust. I’m not sure where I got it, probably my parents but I’m sure not. Maybe it’s because I read the Little House on the Prairie books so much as a young child.  After spending a few years in one place, I’m ready to move to another. Just for something different.

Growing up I really didn’t move that often.  I moved the most before the age of 7. We moved from Omaha to Loveland to western Nebraska. I lived at the same address from spring 1976 to December 1988.  Post 1988 I moved around a bit. I loved every move.

I married a man my opposite. Which is a good thing. But sometimes it can be a frustrating thing. Mr. FullCup does not at all like to move. Not a bit. He has no great love of new places and the endless places to explore. He’d rather stay put,  thankyouverymuch.

We have lived at our current address since August 2001. That is a loooonnngg time. Not in terms of a whole life unless you’re my 10 year old who has only lived here but in terms of someone with a large dose of wanderlust it’s an eternity.

Which is why I’m leaving. Yup. I’m done. I’m outta here. I’m gone like yesterday.  Today I shall point the nose of my get-away car (or err my getaway van) north and we’ll drive until I say we stop.

Secrets by Robin Jones Gunn

Secrets by Robin Jones Gunn is the story of Jessica Morgan and Kyle Buchanan. Jessica born into affluence but has decided to turn her back on it all and pursue life in a small town as a high school English teacher.

She goes about it in rather the wrong way. She runs away from home just before her 25th birthday. On her 25th birthday she would come into her trust fund and also become a Vice-President in her father’s company. Only she doesn’t want it and so she disappears to Glenbrooke, Oregon.

Her first day there she has a car accident and meets a nice firefighter, enter Kyle. He’s smitten and she’s aloof.  He’s a Christian and she’s not.

The book is their story. They both have secrets that want to hold them back. His previous fiance dies from AIDS, not pneumonia like the townspeople think and she is really a wealthy young heiress. Can they trust each other enough to share their secrets?

The story was cute. I didn’t care for the lies the characters felt they had to tell to be loved and accepted. I thought Kyle’s character didn’t sound too manly, more like a woman writing the dialogue for a man and that’s what it was.

I have read books by Robin Jones Gunn in the past. I’m a big fan of the SisterChicks series. But this book, and it is one in series, didn’t grab me like other books have.

I give it 3 out of 5 turning pages.

I received a copy of this book from the publisher for the purpose of review.

SisterChicks In Gondolas by Robin Jones Gunn

Jenna and Sue are sisters-in-law and they are set and ready for adventure. Sue spends her days caring for her husband Jack after a debilitating accident. On the surface of things, she’s a happy girl but under her joyful exterior beats a heart in pain. She’s angry at God for allowing the accident when He could have stopped it.

Jenna is a divorced woman. She has gone through counseling and knows the tricks and rules to help her but still she struggles.  She was asked by an old friend, Sam, if she would come to Venice and serve as a cook for a retreat Sam was putting together.  Of course she says yes. She invites her sister-in-law to come too because well, Sue can actually cook.  They spend a week in Venice, cooking and touring the sights.

SisterChicks in Gondolas by Robin Jones Gunn is more than a good story.  It’s more than the story of Jenna and Sue’s wild ride through Venice, complete with mattress surfing down three flights of stairs. It’s the story of God ruthlessly pursing His children.

I have read several other books in this series and each one is a blessing. Each one has a little  tidbit I need to know.  There is so much teaching about God in the pages, I almost think I need to start underlining.

This is not a new book, it was released in 2006, but it was new to me. If you’re looking to get lost in a good story, get lost in this one. If you’re looking to read a good book and learn, read this one.

 

I received a free copy of this book from the publisher for the purpose of review.

Illuminated by Jackie Castle.

(From my 12-year old.)

Illuminated is the first book in a series by Jackie Castle, the White Road Chronicles. I really enjoyed the book and would recommend it to anyone, especially Christians who need a little motivation in their walk with Christ.

The main character is, in essence, a girl without a past. Princess works at the evil Lord Darnel’s castle in Racah as Lord Darnel’s daughter/slave/pawn. She has  no recollection of her childhood outside of the castle.

But then a captive named Dean the Messenger enters the scene. She is drawn to the man’s calm, unwavering faith in the face of death. Dean sacrifices his life to give Princess a chance of escape. But the way is hard and the white path she must follow to safely reach the great King Shaydon’s throne in Aloblase is often difficult to stay on. She embarks on a journey to redemption, and it often seems that she will be unable to continue. Can she ignore Lord Darnel’s hold on her past and allow the mysterious Issah and majestic King Shaydon to redeem her?

I absolutely love this book! One of the things I liked about Illuminated was the ever-altering cast of characters surrounding Princess: Dean the Messenger, a frightened dragon, a surprising Okbold, stone-faced Jerin, a squad of Albernium warriors….the list goes on and on.

I also loved the way Mrs. Castle portrayed Issah, a guardian of the White Road. His gentle welcoming spirit toward Princess is soothing to her and weary heart.  He also shows us that being great has nothing to do with your social status.

My favorite character was probably Lotari, a stubbornly kind centaur. Despite being shy of humans, Lotari musters his courage and chases Princess through the forest, helping her reach the beautiful city of Aloblase.

The people of Many Rivers also provide uplifting entertainment. Kind and quick to share, they welcome Princess and her band of travelers. But they also are a little mischievous.

I’ll give this book 4 out of 5 turning pages.

 

 

I received a free copy of this book from the author for the purpose of review.

Comfort

Last night we hosted our third annual church staff Christmas party and it was grand! I think the meal, at least my part of it could have used some cpr. I just don’t think  spaghetti was the way to go. Unfortunately I didn’t come to that conclusion until after the party.

Hindsight, I tell you, can be a killer.

Early on in the evening, I was in the kitchen getting the last minute things ready, putting food in serving bowls etc, when the pastor walked in and asked to use the restroom. I pointed him in the right direction and went back to work.
“I found someone’s slippers.” He said and I glanced at his feet and noticed they were encased in dark slippers and so I thought I had misunderstood him and he had actually told me he brought his own slippers.
“Who’s are they?” I think that a very funny question because after all, if he brought them they should technically be his, right? Only he didn’t say he brought his slippers. He found some slippers. I glanced again at his feet and said, “Oh those are mine.” Again I went back to what I was doing.

I thought as soon as he heard they were my slippers he would be sure to kick them off. It would be one thing, in his mind, if they belonged to Mr. FullCup and he wore them but something else entirely if he wore them and they belonged to me. A man I am not.

My powers of observation aren’t always what they could be. For example, I didn’t notice when he exited the bathroom and I didn’t notice his feet at all for the rest of the evening.

At least until he got up from the table, kicked off my slippers and said proudly, “You can have your slippers back” and laughed. His poor wife about died on the spot and said his first and middle names. If we learn one thing, we have middle names so we all know when we’re in trouble.

Really it didn’t bother me in the least that he wore them. I’m not entirely sure I can put them on again. I just have a weird idiosyncrasy that way. If one of the ladies had slipped them on, I’d have no problem at all wearing them, I’m not entirely sure what my hang up is but there you have it.

Today as I reflected on the shindig I realized my favorite part of the whole evening was when the pastor wore my slippers.  It seems a bit odd even to me, but it’s true.

It is true because I want to have the kind of house, be the kind person people just naturally feel comfortable with.  I want others to feel as comfortable in my house as they do in their own. I want them to feel comfortable enough to wear my slippers, raid my fridge, eat my food and say the hard things to me.

No one said anything “hard” to me last night. And in fact until I read the words on the page I wasn’t aware I felt that way but I find it’s true. I do want people, people who know me and love me to feel comfortable enough to tell me when I’m missing the boat. To tell me what I don’t want to hear.  To not fear the loss of friendship if they speak truth into my life.

I really want a mi casa, su casa home and heart. Maybe I’ll work on that this year.

Deadline

Jake Woods is a reporter. Sunday afternoons are spent with his two lifelong friends, Doc and Finney. Usually at halftime they flip a coin and the loser goes for the pizza. Only on this particular day, the coin actually landed on it’s end, standing up. They decided that meant they should all go for pizza.

Only they don’t all make it. Doc is killed in the crash and Jake is left searching desperately for answers. He sets out to find out who would be so demented as to kill his best friend.  He finds himself caught in a dangerous world of intrigue and mystery unraveling the suspicious accident that caused the death of his friend. But was his friend the intended target? You’ll have to read it to find out.

“Deadline is a dramatic and vivid novel of substance, filled with hope and perspective for every reader who longs to feel purpose in life.”

Randy Alcorn is a masterful story-teller and this book is a prime example of his skill with a pen. It isn’t a new book by any means, released/copyrighted in 1994, but it is a book you’ll want to read. Randy Alcorn weaves the story in such a way the reader can’t help but be drawn into the story and almost lives the story.

We all find we have a little Jake Woods in us. We all want answers to life’s difficult questions. We all struggle to find our purpose in life. And God meets everyone of us, often in places we least expect to find Him.

This is the perfect gift for the mystery lover on your Christmas list. Or may be you’re looking for something to read for yourself. This book won’t disappoint!

I received a free copy of this book for the purpose of review.

I can’t take me anywhere.

Sometimes I seriously wonder about myself. Okay, change that. I often wonder about myself.

Yesterday morning, after my shower, I’m in the bathroom getting dressed and ready to face the day. Normally Thursdays are not too scary in my house. Notice I said “Normally” and if we’ve learned anything at all, my house is decidedly not normal.  As I was getting dressed, I had quite a bit of trouble putting my shirt on. I’ve been dressing myself for a number of decades and it’s not been a problem for many of them.

In fact it hasn’t been a problem at all, until yesterday. The shirt would not go over my head. Not at all. I struggled with it for more time than I care to admit, before taking it off and looking at it.

I was trying to cram my head through the arm hole.

That would cause a problem.

I blame poor circulation for my generally cold body. But really it’s probably not. I live in a cold climate; and I keep our thermostat set at a cooler number than most. Hence I’m generally cold. Every now and again I break out into a sweat though.

Since I’m generally cold, and yesterday was no exception, after realizing my problem in getting my shirt on, fixing the trouble; leaving the bathroom, I was cold. I headed back to put on a sweater. Only I don’t mean a sweater–sweater. I only own one it isn’t near warm enough. I mean a hooded sweat jacket. I have the kind that zips up and the kind you pull over your head.

In retrospect, I should have chosen the zip-up kind, because again I have problems. Similar problems to the shirt but not entirely the same. I put my arms through the arm holes just fine. I just could not for the life of me figure out why I couldn’t get the jacket pulled down off of my face.

Oh yeah. I had it on backwards and the hood was covering my face. In case you’re wondering, pulling the bottom of your sweat jacket to get it on “all the way”, won’t help matters at all if it’s on backwards and the hood is covering your face.

I hoped that was all behind me. But alas, in the afternoon we needed to run some errands. I put on my sunglasses and prepare to start the van, when from the backseat I hear my oldest child say, “Uhhh, Momma, you just put your regular glasses back on.” A quick peek in the rear view mirror reveals that she speaks the truth. Apparently I put my sunglasses on while I was on the porch, got in the van and then took them off. I have absolutely zero recollection of putting them on.

Today is a new day. I awoke excited with the prospect of a, in the words of Anne Shirley, “brand new day with no mistakes in it.”

I was giving Beanie a spelling test. Her word was: equals. She likes me to give her the word in a sentence; her sentence was “2 + 2 EQUALS 5″ (caps for emphasis.)

Oh yes I did. She was quick to say “no, it doesn’t.”

A later word: Channel. Her sentence, “Please change the CHANNEL so we can watch Ben and Jerry.”

“Momma, what is that?”

It was supposed to be Tom and Jerry, the cartoon and not Ben and Jerry’s, the ice cream.

Maybe I’ll just be quiet for the rest of the day.

Nahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

(Image linked to source.)

Manners Matter

I live in a very rural area of our nation. But I’m not a hick from the sticks. I know “knives on the left, forks on the right” and other niceties.

But it never hurts to brush up on manners. Especially when you’re raising the next generation.

Maralee McKee is “Miss Manners” travels the country giving seminars on manners. She teaches children and adults. She has also written a book, Manners That Matter for Moms.”

All-in-all, it’s a good book. I learned a lot and my family now hates me for it. Just kidding…maybe.  There are a few things I don’t agree with. I understand it’s important to be polite, I understand it’s important to teach my children to be polite. It is also important to consider your geographic location when implementing some of the things taught in this book.

I gave this book 4.5 turning pages.  You can read the first chapter here.

 

I received a free copy of this book for the purpose of review.