The Good Stuff

The house is coming together, as fast as we can realistically do it. I still wish it were all completely done. I'm a short term project person. Sewing, cleaning, financial projects -- about any kind -- I need to be able to complete in either a day, or a few days. Otherwise it's like a grain of sand in my teeth. My steadfast Larry turns projects into art, and I adore them when they are done, but I still thrill more to one job done so the next one can be begun.

Our entryway is gorgeous, and the steps, going both up and down, are a masterpiece! Larry took two days off work during the spring, before the summer spin began, and laid the entry tiles. No one could guess it was his first time to lay tiles -- unless they knew Larry. Whatever project Larry chooses, it will be done to perfection. He spent more time bouncing to hear those steps squeak -- so he could find EXACTLY where the squeaks came from -- than it probably took to do all the work. BUT! the steps DO NOT SQUEAK anymore! What a guy!

My part? I painted, and painted, and painted. I actually like painting, but 6 weeks of it is definitely over-the-top for Linda. I need conversation, so our contractor was my salvation while he was finishing flooring, installing closet organizers, laying baseboard, even hanging doors. I tried not to chatter too much. If at any time you've seen me replying rather quickly to your emails, understand you may have been my only contact during the day. I've learned a lot, even from the plumber, but I'm certainly not ready to do their jobs!

The house now? We are thinning down almost 32 years of "stuff" accumulation. I have passed on clothes, furniture, dishes, books, and fabric that I don't want anymore. There will be much more to go, I'm sure. These days the house holds little appeal for me if no one is there to share it.

Do I like the outcome? Oh, yes, it is wonderful! Do I need it? I think what I need most is order and the freedom to enjoy days at school. I look forward to coming home with stories and time to put up my feet and laugh with Larry at the kids. And Larry loves my stories.

Speaking of stories! I have new lines from the kids in Idaho. The first came when Mom had told company that Luke and Ian had iced the cupcakes for dessert. Company said, "thanks! you guys for making those cupcakes. They were incredible!" (or something on that order). To which Ian, the older cupcake-maker replied, "I'm glad you enjoyed them!" The intended approval was netted, to the point of Mr. 5-yr-old asking later, "Does anyone else want to say thank you for making the cupcakes?" Oh, the honesty of a child! Just show me you love me!

The next line came when both boys received new polar fleece blankets in their favorite character designs. They were elated, and showed their gratitude with multiple thank-yous, continuous sharing of the blankets, and even more blankets covering. Luke, our snuggler, kept asking Mom, "do I get to sleep with my new blanket?" "Yes, you do, Lukie." "Grandma, I REALLY love my blanket." Eventually Mom completed the mom-rounds a woman must make before she can sit down and rest, and then she sat alongside Luke. He'd snuggled with Grandma all evening, joking, pretending, reading books, but he turned to Mom, "Mom, you're my best friend." Aaahhh, all's right with the world when Mom is around.

So a house? It's a warm blessing to live in. At least, I'm thankful it's warm, and it's definitely a blessing as long as it isn't a burden. But would I rather have the house or the warm bodies that cover me till I sweat, just to say "I love you, Grandma"? Do you really need to ask?

Warm bodies, hands down! Love keeps me working when I hear no conversation. Love keeps me listening to feet looking for the squeaks! And love makes those steps perfect for me.

A warm body is the only good stuff. A house can burn, or blow away, or be outdone by someone down the street. A house is cold and empty -- without "the good stuff."

Children

A week ago I accompanied a 4th grade class to the Salmon Festival. Big, important event in the Northwest (no lie!) where salmon are a part of our heritage, our economy, our education, our conservation. Fall is when salmon begin the upstream climb to their beginnings, to start the next generation. The salmon journey holds many stories of instinctive determination and amazing feats, despite the interference of man. Conservationists fear we will run them to extinction, but other stories tell how salmon bounty is pilfered. Wow! We're a mixed-up people.

Nonetheless, teaching our kids about the world around them is important, not to mention exciting. It's thrilling to watch the kids' discoveries, so I needed only one invitation to come along.

The teacher I accompanied has 31 students. Most El Ed teachers like a class of 20-24. These kids are "squirrley", a word the principal likes to use. Good kids! Just four times the energy we have, and 1/4 the sense of how to use it! Ha! So Teacher had arranged 5 chaperones, to coordinate.

The day was well planned, an expanded program from 14 years ago when I last attended. We saw 6-10 varieties of live, chained falcons and other birds of prey, then moved to an inside lecture to an outside maze, to a fish ladder (where fish jump upstream), to a hike, to candy and pop and lunch, to a native American dance and display. My five kids were exciting! ranging from squirrley-squirrley boys to giddy girls. I hadn't seen them since last May, so branding names fast was a challenge. But fun! Fun with the arm around the shoulders, reminding, "OK, get the candy, but wash the fish food off your hands first...." or "guys, guys! back this way." It was a constant counting to see where my five had dissolved.

Yesterday I returned to help with reading in this same classroom. Madame Teacher is great, and part of her skill is her plan for repetition and reward. It was my privilege to watch and learn from her. Reading ended in an hour, but I returned later to observe more.

At the beginning of my time yesterday, she handed me 5 letters written by the students I had accompanied. Larry insisted on reading them. He has become as eager to hear my school stories as I am to tell them. I handed him the first letter, prefacing his read with my opinions of the boy: the quietest of the bunch, hispanic, didn't say a word to me all day till we walked away from the native American displays, then "I'm an Indian. There are Indian tribes in Mexico." That insight shocked me, but his letter showed more. Concise neat printing with more things listed to thank me for than any other student! An 9-yr-old diamond in the rough!

Then the squirrliest of the bunch who talks with his eyes, but you're never sure all he's trying to say. His letter was short and sweet, but his eyes are always talking.

And the sweet and prissy little red-head whose letter Larry said sounded like someone wrote it for her, so grown-up and thoughtful! Or the other two beautiful girls whose letters were likewise gracious and sincere.

Children have the greatest abilities to bless, of any creature on earth, but they also can cause the greatest hurt. They reach into our hearts, and may also run off again. They react, and may not understand. They express but aren't sure what they really mean. They are treasures that bring joy and sorrow. They are honest glimpses of our inner selves.

Loving children requires vulnerability, one of the most important gifts a person can give himself, yet one of the scariest. With it comes opportunity to see into the depths of human love, with the risk of not understanding the other person. Still, without it one will never get past the surface of kindness, to experience being valued, accepted, chosen.

Sometimes I struggle even now and want to protect myself from the people I love -- not just family. I'm tired of being tired, tired of being hurt, tired of being sad. What's the alternative? Miss the joys of being loved by a child? Withhold investment in their lives and never know their affection and admiration? Refuse someone's 2nd, 3rd, or 4th chance to prove himself, and miss one more polished diamond gleaming in the world?

Children are more than a gift, they are therapy. Most are honest about what they think. They reflect our own true intentions, perhaps on different levels or at different times. But they want to forgive. One teacher told yesterday of going to a disruptive child to discuss his negative behavior. The teacher expressed the problem, and the child said a simple, "OK." The child then went for a book, handed it to the teacher, climbed in his lap, sat while the teacher read the book, then willingly accepted correction.

I would benefit if I could accept my lessons that easily.

I'm the LUCKY ONE

I'm at my youngest daughter, Lora's house right now. She invited me! For a week! The other daughters have also invited me and I've had great times with them, but visits with them are shared. Shared with hubbys, grandkids, their dad, and simply, their jobs. Life is B-U-S-Y and harried. So unshared time with an adult child is a rare delicacy not to be taken lightly.

Lora's husband Andrew and his dad are having special time right now, so rather than leave Lora alone, they suggested inviting me so we could have time. What an idea! What a privilege! What an opportunity!

Yesterday we explored Portland (benefit of Tom-Tom) and visited Powell's Book Store, dubbed the largest bookstore in the world. Take your cell phone (for re-connecting) a friend or two, and plan to enjoy all morning or afternoon perusing the category, subject, or even author of choice! Yesterday I was in the Red Room, where I moved among a good dozen or more wall-high rows. Lora moved to the "room" of her choice, and then we reconnected in the Purple Room to look at children's books before we left. We would have stayed hours except that we had an evening appointment already scheduled.

We'd had lunch together, then supper leftovers at home. Tonight we'll try another of the cuisine varieties of the neighborhood. The prize isn't not having clean-up; it's the blessing of uninterrupted focused attentive conversation. Two people who care about each other having the gift of time to give one another.

I don't want to take this for granted. Lora will soon have the 9-5 commitments that make these days rare. Thereafter little "Loras" and little "Andrews" will interrupt dinner conversation. We'll plan visits, and the nights out will be us staying with kids so they can maintain sanity. I would never trade any of it.

I love the visits with any of my kids. Watching grandkids interact, watching my kids do the parenting, playing with grandkids and having them laugh at me or pull on my pants. Getting a five-minute call from Joy as she runs from her work-out time to kiddie pick-up, or a 10:15 call from Jenny when Jon works late and she's bored. I'm the Lucky One!

I'm "lucky" to have kids who want to talk to me, kids who will walk down the street with me, kids who will share needs and blessings, and ask me to pray for them.

I'm also lucky that their dad still comes home to me -- just me. That he makes me breakfast every morning unless I say I don't want it. That he will give up things HE wants to do on the house, to preserve my sanity.

It is more than luck, much more. It's blessing. It comes from the One who made us all, who gave us all free choice, speaking to these dear ones, leading their thoughts and choices. Yes, it started with faithful love and dedication twenty-plus years ago, but the choice to continue is fed by faith from the One.

Undoubtedly they've all had times I've disappointed them. I screw up even when I mean well! I can remember seeing some "let-down" looks when I've said or done the wrong thing. They've forgiven me. God forgives me!

All in all, I still think I'm pretty lucky, blessed, fortunate......

And I say thank you to all of them. Best winning of a lifetime!

My Mission

My new "best book" is by Leonard Sweet, "Out of the Mystery... Into the Question" speaking of relationships we have with one another, and with God, all stemming from how we are made and why we are made. VERY thought provoking read.

Today I swallowed a story that clenches my heart and describes my calling. It relates a story of Israeli Christians preparing for a seige during the 1983 Arab-Israel War in Beirut, Lebanon. The plan was for these Christians to buy up all the canned food they could find, in preparation for distribution during the seige. They were unsure how to distribute, whether 1) to give first to their members, to other Christians, and then to Muslim neighbors, or 2) to give first to Muslim neighbors, next to other Christians, and then to their members. Finally one quiet woman among them offered, "if we do not demonstrate the love of Christ in this place, who will?" They chose Option #2.

We all want to "do good", and yet we all "mess up". Another line I read in this book this morning cited the truth that Christians are not "special" people. They are messed up people who Christ makes special by his love going through them.

One of my favorite lines comes from a song I haven't heard for quite a while: ".... the saints are just the sinners who fell down and got up...." I need to get up, and look up, over and over and over.

Let's walk together, and we'll help each other up.

You Can ..... Smile

So we're back in our bedroom, enjoying sooooooo much our bed and our space, but there are still lots of details to complete. I decided to try and install another doorknob last Wednesday morning. Still not dressed for the day, I was just piddling around.

Some of these new doors won't latch, whether because the drilled door holes don't match up exactly with the holes in the hardware, or because I haven't installed them perfectly -- ? That really drives Larry crazy. Me? I figure it will close eventually. That's why Larry is the scientist and I'm am PR.

This Wednesday morning, I decided to install the latch mechanism in the doorknob hole first, and then see how easily the door would close and open. Forgot that I really needed the complete doorknob installed to open the door again.

I also forgot that I needed to be on the hall side of that door -- if I wanted to do other things till Larry got home and showed me how to open it again. SO I forgot to add the doorknobs. I forgot to stand OUTside of the room when I closed the door to test the smoothness of the latch.

I locked myself in the room. In my night clothes. With only a window for escape. No working phone. No ladder. No dark to hide me.

At first I thought I'd surely figure a way to get the latch open. Fooled with the screwdriver on the mechanism parts. Next I decided I needed to watch for someone passing the house, who might hear me call. Finally a neighbor walked out of her house, started to get into her car, and I yelled down to her, "up here, in the window, it's Linda Pusey, and I'm locked in a room."

We verified that I needed Larry (skipping all the whys), and she called 3 numbers before he answered. Yes, I had to wait while they both laughed at the reason I needed him home. Then, while I waited, all the humiliation hit me -- and I almost cried.

He drove into the driveway, called out and came into the house. He opened another doorknob package in another room, and together, we pieced together what we needed to open the door. Did he have a big grin on his face? DEFINITELY!

Larry had to run to a luncheon meeting, so no time to console me. When he arrived home in the evening, I'd been weeding in my back garden beds for about 3 hours. Great distraction. Forget the hardware for today. Again that big grin. "Did everyone at your meeting have a good laugh?" "No, I only told one person, and he told me his wife did something similar one time...."

OK, I guess many of us do "dumb" things time to time. This about tops my list. These things just seem to happen to me.

So for today, I'll try and again remember "it's not what happens to you that counts, but how you react to it."

CHEESE!

The "Sweetness" of "Labor" Days

A long time ago I read that "... waiting makes the blessing sweeter when it arrives." Sorry, but I've focused too many times on the "... when it arrives...." part, and missed the "sweeter" part. I need to remind myself because I know it's true!

I talked to each of our daughters last week, and heard amazing things in their voices. I heard insight, maturity, peace, and patience. The oldest just turned 29! WOW! A lot happens in 29 years! I'm seeing a lot of "sweetness" flow from my girls as I watch them deal with life: the "sweetness" of wisdom, grace, and patience.

We've slept in our "new" bedroom for 3 nights now. Oooooohhhhhh! How thankful we are for our bed, for space, for access to our clothes once again. We've yet to wipe the construction dust and dead spiders from our new bathrooms and use them -- but the view is inspiring! Wow! We're so very thankful for abilities, friends, and funding to rebuild.

I wonder if I'd have appreciated the gift of the remodel as much if it had come in a painfree month's time away from home. Would I have missed my queen bed as much had I not spent 3 months with Larry's bony elbows in my sides each night? Would I have longed for order as desperately had I not been prisoner to disorder? Thank goodness, the busy-ness of summer took us away from our mess more times than we thought we liked, but maybe that was my emotional anesthesia for the pain of the labor.

Still lots to do. Saturday was consumed with assembling a file cabinet. I am a "designer" but not a "manual follower", and I can't count how many times I realized I'd missed a step in the instructions as I jumped from picture to picture. The job took a looooonngg time for me to complete. I screwed in the bottom coasters 3 times: 1st to install, 2nd when I realized I had the back on the front, and 3rd when I realized I had the back of the cabinet facing the front -- and the drawers wouldn't close.

Sunday was a day of fun, after 3 weeks of painting walls, trim, and nailholes, and focusing, focusing, focusing on a labor driving me crazy! We looked for bookshelves all over town, went to a movie (half an hour early, and gorged ourselves with the popcorn refill!), then came home still enjoying respite from focusing on labor.

Today I must first do some basic laundry and cleaning, then I want to continue installing doorknobs and covering nail holes. I need to paint new doors, unpack and organize our endless "stuff". And sometime peek at life outside the remodel, to see how I reconnect survival at home with survival in the wild.

Larry will get back to a paper that must come together before the end of the month. I must remember to anticipate the sweetness of its completion! I must remember to anticipate the sweetness of many tomorrows.

Last night's "Extreme Home Makeover" focused on people with disabilities. The line that grabbed me was "... focusing on possibilities rather than problems." WOW! I need that!

Life seems full of waiting. While I'm waiting, I'm going to focus on the "sweetness".

Moving Back IN!

Tonight SHOULD be the night! Wish it were a daytime move, but a long evening is the best we can do. Cords to upload pics of our "new home" are still packed, so JUST WAIT!

Last night Larry was just too tired to move furniture despite the riveting anticipation. Our bedroom is ready, but he wasn't. He'd had a long day at work, and I'd had a short night before. It's amazing how tired we both are of the process.

The bedroom is ready, but Larry's office and my workroom yet need trim paint, outlet plates, doorknobs, new door hinges, new door paint and some touch ups before we can move in furniture. (Ooops! there's cleaning needed too!) I'm learning to do quite a few things for myself! Bill even showed me how to install the smoke detectors that have set in the box since we bought them 4 years ago!

But we're so grateful for our house, upgraded or not. We're grateful for space, and privacy, and climate control, and ownership. We're grateful for a dependable contractor who is also a trustworthy friend, who worked us into many of his busy days. We're grateful for years of pinching that paid off a mortgage early so we can now afford the remodel. And we're grateful for a grace-ful Creator who has picked me up each time I've been about to blow, and kept Larry from saying things he might have regretted when he didn't understand my frustration....... Remodel is tough, especially when you're living in it. But we still love each other!

Tonight we'll have a new floor, access to our dressers, and more of our clothes (of those I find on the first-day-back), and our very comfy queen bed -- THANK GOD! after 3 months of elbowing each other all night long. Whenever any of you visit us, we'll henceforth be extra thankful you are willing to be with us at the cost of suffering cramped night quarters. Oh, we're so spoiled!

I watched "Home Makeover Edition" on Sunday night, with the tv crew rebuilding and furnishing a home for a family of 13, 7 of whom were Haitian orphans adopted by a young Ohio couple. Sounded like our cramped life had been their norm, compounded by Mom's ongoing illness after 3 strokes and liver disfunction. I've never been more moved by the contribution of the crew, sponsors, and team players recruited for a project. Even the local university was enticed to bless all the children with full-ride scholarships.

I'm thankful once again for what I have! I'd still be OK with a smaller, less improved place, as long as I could keep it clean and neat, and maybe someday that will be my lot. Whatever! As Larry has said, this is just temporary.

So thank God for TODAY! For health and strength, for inspiration and friends, for hope and opportunity! Time to go bless someone else!