I am so thankful that I live in a place where I have access to a Whole Foods, a Trader Joes, a Good Foods Co-Op, and innumerable farmers markets. I have an Arab grocery store where I can purchase products made without pork and local meats raised in good environments, and I have friends who give me farm fresh eggs. I have access to local grass-fed beef and local grass-fed lambs. I also have access to the organic bulk grains and dried legumes that I purchase and store because they don’t go bad.
I LOVE mindless entertainment. It relaxes me and frees my mind from the constant thinking, planning, creating. It gives me a bit of a break, sometimes an hour, sometimes two — the more thrilling, the better. A good movie preview will even give me chills. Date nights revolve around movie releases. It’s silly, but I am completely okay with that.
I love our church. When we walked in the doors of that building, we knew we belonged there. After we’d been there for about a year, I said something in a class one time about it, and a friend there said, “You’ve been going here longer than a year, haven’t you?” It feels like we’ve always been there.
Out of four children, I’m the second oldest (and at 5’11” the SHORTEST!) My brother, Jim, is 16 months older than me, my brother, Ty, is 3.5 years younger, and my sister, Misty, is 5 years younger.
Our parents encouraged us to follow our dreams, to create, to imagine. We lived in a household where movies were adored and discussed and dissected. A household where books were consumed with equal passion.
My parents were high school sweethearts. If you’d have asked my mom, when she was 17, what she wanted to be when she grew up, her answer was, “Bill’s wife.” Their high school year books are filled with references to their relationship. “Have a good summer! Good luck with you and Bill!” They’ve been married 45 years, have four children, and seven grandchildren. Somehow, they managed to create a functional, Godly home amongst the cultural revolution of the 70’s and 80’s.
I love our home. It’s a compact house on a rather busy residential street in small town Kentucky. We had to convert a bedroom to create a dining room, and I have to share that dining room for my office, but I love our home. The backyard is big enough to hold the dog, the kids, and a relatively large garden. We utilize every single room inside, and have a huge basement that holds way too much storage (I am so enamored of the simplicity & less is more mindset and am making the basement my goal for the year.)
I have a love-hate relationship with social media. I hate it because it sucks my life away. In order to have a presence there, you must be a presence there. So, when I could be doing a million other things, I have to be present.
I love it because I have made so many incredible friends through social media (including meeting my husband in a long ago pioneer form of social media called an AOL chat room). I also know that I know that if it weren’t for social media, this blog and my writing career would only have a fraction of the success they’ve had.
I often think about how fortunate I am to have clean, running water in my home, especially when it’s canning season. You have to wash the jars and lids, can whatever you’re canning, then fill the canner with water and process the jars. Washing everything and keeping it clean is one of the secrets to canning success. To do this much work with the added work of having to haul water from another source is an incredible thought. Yet, just a few decades ago, hauling water from another source was the norm.
It has been ten years this month that I have been smoke free. I started smoking cigarettes when I was a teenager. On my 18th birthday, my mom jokingly bought me a carton of cigarettes and told me I could come out of the closet.
I LOVED smoking. I enjoyed the oral fixation, I enjoyed the feel — nothing was better to me than to sit down with a cup of coffee and have that first cigarette of the day.