Angels (Drive?) Among Us

Do you believe in guardian angels? 

I do. 

I think. 

Well, I'd like to; let's put it that way.

I've been a little down about a couple of things lately.  Lots of hand wringing and a little sadness and lots of worry. 

So imagine the smile it brought to my face, yesterday, when I pulled up to a stop light and read the bright pink bumper sticker on the gold van in front of me:  I'm glad you were born.  Now, don't you think that's pretty unusual for a bumper sticker?  I do.  Perhaps it's me and my personal sensibilities, but I usually find most bumper stickers to be a poke in the eye, at best.  How nice, how surprising, how uplifting to read such a pleasant message.

Then I noticed the oval vehicle sticker next to it; you know, the ones with abbreviations for people's favorite destinations.  But it read with something I'd never seen nor heard of before:  Angel's Landing.   (I have since found that there is an area of Zion National Park with that name, but we are nowhere near Utah . . . so I'm choosing to believe it was something more unearthly than that.)

As the light changed and we proceeded down the road, I had to marvel at the positive impact those two small little signs made upon me.  And just when I really needed it. 

Then I got this silly idea that perhaps it really was an angel in that van . . . appearing before me, fitting herself into my routine, and shining a small ray of sunshine into my life for that moment.  What a lovely thought.  Funny that she should be so adept at driving a mini-van, but, hey, angels are amazing, aren't they?  Yes, they are.  I decided to stop dismantling the idea:  Take the moment as it was offered and don't over-analyze it away.

When we stopped at the next light, I just had to pull up next to the van and get a look at the driver.  Would I see a glowing halo?  Fluttering wings?  Rays of light?  I mean, that would really make her an angel, right?

Well, I didn't see any halo.  No wings.  No glowing light. 

Nope. 

But what I did see made me sure she was, indeed, my guardian angel. 


A yawn.  She was yawning.  A great, big, deep, long yawn . . . the signal of exhaustion.

Yep, that would be her.

 

A Blogtoberfest of Thanks

A word of thanks to all of you who have stopped by to visit my blog.  It is so inspiring to see so many people passing by.

As much of a talker as I am, it is less than inspiring to talk when you believe no one is listening.  I have been so re-inspired this past week.  I've already made some new friends with whom I believe I'll be in touch for a long time.  And those of you who take the time for even a brief visit, thank you.

I have had the loveliest time looking around, too.  I have joined several new blogs, and I don't join blogs unless I really mean it.  And I have briefly visited many, too.  But with each stop I have made -- whether I joined or not -- I have enjoyed something or another in each and every one.  Pretty amazing.  The other evening, I actually said something to my husband to the affect of, "It's really something how many wonderful and talented people there are out there.  Just amazing."  And I really meant it.

So I just had to stop, a little more than a week into this wonderful little festival, and thank whomever may see this.  I am humbled by your visit.

Wordless Wednesday (something quite new for me!)

It's Clean Up Time

If you've been reading this blog for more than . . . a day . . . you know the state of my house.  It's dirty.  It's messy.  It's disorganized.  It's all over the place. 

This is the result of our family taking on chicken-keeping this year and building a beautiful coop out back all spring and summer, my not feeling well much of this year, and the usual this-and-that that keeps us all busy.

Well, that's all about to end.

My house must be cleaned.  Pronto.

I have company coming.

Monday.

To spend the night.

My father.

The giant sucking sound you hear is the whirlwind of cleaning activity that I have going in my house today and probably through the weekend.

There's nothing like overnight company to kick those cleaning routines into high gear . . . except, maybe, parental overnight guesthood.

I just got word of this visit last weekend.  It seems my father is sowing some of his retirement-wild oats by taking himself on a tour of Civil War battlefields in my area -- better that my father take this trip alone as his penchant for standing and staring at signs and their related open spaces is unmatched.  No one can stand and ponder longer than my father.  I'm telling ya.  And this can occur anywhere . . . long hours of my childhood were spent standing in hardware store aisles as my father pondered  . . . I still haven't figured out what.  So he's going by himself so he can ponder unrushed.  He plans to get around to us Monday evening.   

He'll arrive Monday evening and spend Tuesday with me.  He told me this sooo casually.  As if it wouldn't be noteworthy to me that he would be sleeping in this house a week from the moment we spoke.  As if the focus of my life was not about to be redirected for the next week.  No, it was up to me to detect the oh-so-subtle implication in his words -- that he intended to spend the night.  (My parents never stay here when they visit together.)  So.  Now I need to get the house clean AND select one of my kid's rooms and get that room cleaned myself.  I can't issue the usual edict to the kids and demand they clean their own rooms.  It has to be a good job this time.  Dusting and all.  Horseshoes picked up, even.  (A reference to the last time my son declared his room "all clean" despite having left a horseshoe lying in the middle of his floor.)

So off I go to finish putting out the Halloween decorations so I can put away the storage tub that has been in the hallway since this weekend.  Dog beds need laundering, floors need washing, rooms need straightening, everything needs dusting.

I mean it this time; no distractions . . .

Except maybe the few hundred blogs I have promised to visit and the many, many I have decided to follow . . .

Now be good friends and grab a mop and head over!

We Have a Winner!

This is a two drum-roll day . . .

I can't remember the last time I had a two drumroll day . . .

But I digress. 

So I printed a copy of all my lovely followers, cut them into individual tickets, put them in a hat, and, at halftime (I'm watching the Packer game with my husband . . . he's needing some help through this.), drew a winner.

The winner of this week's giveaway is:

Missy from Stitch Girl Stitch!

Yay for Missy!  

If you're Missy, send me an email with your shipping address and look for your package!

Thanks so much.  Seeing these new faces along with my loyal faces inspires me . . .

Please keep reading . . . I'll have more festivities during Blogtoberfest and beyond.

 

Talkin 'Bout Freedom!

For any of you just joining us . . . I was home ALL last week -- and both weekends -- with a sick daughter and a sick husband.

Now . . . a moment of silence . . .

And a drumroll . . .

Today, they ALL went back to school and work!  All of them!!  There is no one here but me and the dog (and the rest of the menagerie, but you know what I mean).  Blissful silence.  No cartoons on out of pity.  No requests for juice.  No beeping thermometers.  No need for extra blankets.

And I'm free to leave.  I'm so getting out of here!  To where?  Who cares!  Just out!

So I will be back later, once my kids are out of school and we're all home again, with something of more substance to say.  For the time being, I'm free and I'm making a run for it.

Perhaps you'll spot me running through an open meadow like a giddy, spring lamb . . .

Or perhaps I'll go for speed, like a naughty dog who's escaped from the yard  . . .

Either way, you'll know me by giggle and flush of freedom!