Lettin' it all hang out

I've got nothing of import to share these days so I thought an update and dose of mundane stuff might be fun.

First, my kids have convinced me there's nothing really all that wrong with my forehead and that I shouldn't wear bangs or a hat every waking moment of my life. Besides that, I've determined to own my wrinkles. I've earned them after all, and wouldn't trade the wisdom that's come with them for the world. So, I'm letting my forehead out of the closet. And here's a picture. Oh yeah. I wear glasses too, except on Sundays and when I want to look pretty.

I don't think I've mentioned it here but since it's public knowledge (in the most legal sense of the word, and the most literal - it's been published in the local paper) I can state here that I'm serving on my county's Grand Jury this year. It is taking up a lot of my time, and, with my cleaning business flourishing as it is, I'm left with precious little time for things like, well, things. My writing here will likely be sparser than ever. Grand Jury proceedings are highly confidential, so no matter how interesting it might turn out to be I cannot discuss it. Our findings and recommendations will be made public at the end of our term in our published Final Report and no further comment by any of us is permitted beyond that - ever.

So, what's left? As I said, my business is flourishing. If such a thing was possible, with the number of referrals I've had to turn down I could be working 24/7. But such a thing is not possible or wise. My work is strenuous and I also have a home and family of my own to consider. My husband is very fond of me and likes to spend as much time with me as he can. I try to accommodate him. He also is an intellectual and likes me to read a lot - not that he gets any argument from me! I love to read and find just about everything interesting - except financial stuff - yack! I can understand it, but I don't like it one bit.

I'm also not a poetry fan - a fact my husband is doing everything in his power to change. And he's made some progress. I actually wrote a poem on my blog the other day, the first one of my life. I can't say it's any good, but it's definitely mine.

So along with my random musings I've included some pictures of my random life. Lately I've posted nice pictures of the re-decorating we've been doing. What I've left out of those pictures are the corners of my home where I actually live - where I sit down and think, and talk, and write. Those places are not so tidy or orderly. They represent all my incomplete thoughts, the things I'm struggling to understand and make sense of piled right alongside some of my very favorite things. In that sense these corners are an apt microcosm of my soul. (In case you're wondering where the Bible fits in - I've been judgmental enough in my own Christian life to know there will be someone asking themselves that question - there's a MacArthur Study Bible on top of my desk, a Hebrew/English Tanakh behind where I'm standing in the picture above, and my big fat ESV Study Bible is on the coffee table where both Paul and I can get to it.) Some of these books have been read cover to cover, underlined and dog-eared. Others I'm only part-way through. A few I've stalled on and may have to start over from the beginning if too much more time elapses. Some I've been meaning to read for a really long time and am afraid that if I put them back on the shelf I'll forget them forever. A couple, like Black Beauty for instance, just need to be put away. (Gina borrowed that book and I have no intention of torturing my soul with it.)

We live in an adorable house, which I'm fond of posting pictures of. But what I don't advertise much is that we live in a questionable neighborhood and get a lot of questionable foot and vehicle traffic. The binoculars on the nightstand in that last picture are so we can tell if we need to call the cops or not. We've learned over the last few years to limit that to clear evidence of drug dealing, to camping, to physical abuse, to terrorist threats, to vandalism, and to unconsciousness. As it is we call the cops at least once a month. The flashlight is for power outages which for various reason we experience several times a year. No matter where I keep a flashlight, I've never been able to remember where I keep a flashlight. So it will likely sit there unused during the next outage. And so, as my mind wanders off I'll end my ramblings here, hoping someday soon I'll happen upon something worthwhile to share with my friends.