Good Ole' Dad

I know my dad is checking up on his married daughter when he texts me under the guise of the dog. Yeah, Lucie the dog. ☺ I play along--it's quite cute. The exchange goes something like this:

Dad: Hi Amy this is Lucie using dad's phone. I've been buzzed again!

Me: Oh, poor defiled little thing ;) I'll bet it feels cooler tho.

Dad: Not only that I got a BATH too! I'm depressed but at least now I can sit next to dad.

Me: Awwww, is daddy being nice to you? Tell him amy says so!

Dad: Um... just normal.

Me: Tsk tsk!

Dad: How are you guys doing today?

Thus is the progression. It's his sweet, non-intrusive way to make sure that we're doing ok. And I wouldn't have it any other way!

Love you, Dad!

$10 is really close!

Remember the days of childhood, when a $20 bill was your fortune and financial insecurity was being $0.25 short for that $0.75 popsicle? 

Today my husband and I got excited when we saved $4 on a prescription. Four whole dollars! In theory it seemed silly to feel that way over such a small amount, but we smiled at each other anyway because those four little dollars meant one very important thing: we're not out of money yet! I recall silently scoffing at my parents years ago (during those narcissistic teen years) when they proudly exclaimed that the checkbook had balanced. I thought it was such a "lame" thing to get excited about; but then I grew up and got married, and saw money in a completely different light. $4 has become a big deal. 

September has been a difficult month for us. Unemployment and medical bills have drained the bank account, and the credit cards are gaining a lot of unwanted mileage (I'll spare you the sob story; we're all in the same boat right now).  I'm currently laid up resting and unable to work, so what used to be two incomes is now one. Thankfully, the Lord provided my husband with a job just as our account is hitting about $10. It's been incredibly hard to fall back on the trust that God will always provide. We believe it and we've experienced it before, but we also wish it hadn't got so close. $10 is really close. 

But then, I suppose the $4 savings wouldn't be that great of a deal if the timing weren't as it were. 

A Rare Hand-Me-Down: The Human American Eagle of WWI

We were visiting my grandma over the weekend when she pulled out the framed picture for my husband to see. I've seen this piece of history many times growing up, but watching my husband's eyes light up with fascination renewed my interest in it and prompted me to share it with you. 

The photo was taken in 1918, in Camp Gordon, Atlanta, GA. It consists of 12,500 officers, nurses, and men -- all posed in the shape of an American eagle! (This information is listed on the photo. If you click on the photo to enlarge it, you can read it down in the lower corners). I can't even imagine the time it took to organize everybody! 


If you look on the right side of the shield, you'll notice a long shadow; that shadow is the photographers tower! My great-grandfather was a cook -- he is standing along one of the two shield side borders (unfortunately we can't remember which side). 


Someday I would love to scan the actual photo, but for now is it resting safely beneath framed glass and waiting to be proudly hung on the wall. 

I find this just amazing!!!!!

In Remembrance of September 11th, 2001: To the Victims

I was a Junior in high school, home that day and working on algebra formulas when the phone rang. It was my aunt, telling me to turn on the news. 
We all know where we were when we heard the news and first saw the images. We remember watching live as the second plane flew into the second tower. We remember covering open mouths with our hands as the first, then the second tower collapsed. We remember the fires blazing at the Pentagon. We remember images of the Flight 93 crash site. 
Every September 11th for the past 9 years, I've remembered those images and shed tears for the lives lost and for the lives affected from those lost. I personally knew no one involved, but I feel for everyone who was personally involved and had their lives tragically changed. 

Please feel free to post your thoughts and memories.

Please keep comments appropriate. This post is to remember the victims and to remember those who lost friends and family, not to post theories, post the tragic pictures (some people  are still traumatized) or bad mouth anyone. Please respect these requests.

Thank you.

A 150 Mile Change of Scenery

Yep, it's moving time. And that includes all of my yarn. A huge bin full. I'm kind of hoping that our next place will be a bit bigger, seeing as my yarn is already stashed so far back in the living room coat closet that it takes five minutes to dig it out (and another five to pry out the curious cats).

Did I mention that we have only three days to pack? And being married to a gaming nerd like my husband, this is what would happen if I let him be in charge of the packing:

Part of me is sad to be leaving; the other part is looking forward to the change. Here's to the next chapter of our unfolding lives! 

A Tribute

I lost an old friend on Tuesday. Our family dog, Hans, had to be put down. A combination of old age, deafness, blindness, bad arthritis, and worsening glaucoma helped my parents to make the final call. I'm glad my old buddy of 16 years is out of pain and discomfort, but still, losing a pet who'd become a part of the family for 16 years is hard to accept. Since I'm not living with my parents anymore, it's not hitting me as hard because I don't miss seeing him walk around the house all day. I have a feeling the next time I visit will be a bit teary-eyed. Hans was a good dog -- our first family dog. He will be missed.

I'm a Little More Than Useless!

Lately I've been feeling pretty useless as I lay around the house recuperating. I see a million little things to do or that need doing, but playing Minecraft and watching TV are about all I can do these days. Tack on a bad case of the "my anti-depressants aren't working as fast as I'd like them to" and I find myself sitting up at three in the morning, a tissue in hand, curled on the couch and listening to the cat crunch its dry food as I think about how pitiful I am. About how many days have already gone by. About times in the past that were very similar to this very moment. About things I want to do now but must wait to come.
So I started praying and just let the tears come softly. I can't completely put into words what I'm feeling but I know God understands exactly what I'm trying to communicate--even if I can't. My depressed thoughts wandered down self-pity lane, I stopped to wallow in my lack of creative writing inspirations, which caused me to drift along past projects and ideas that had never fully taken shape or space on paper. I remembered an old list I'd made of ideas and things that had sparked ideas. I remembered writing a Relient K song down on that list. I remembered the song, and I began crying again, this time because the words touched me where my heart needed the encouragement.

I've forgotten that I'm more than useless.

"More Than Useless"

I feel like, I would like
To be somewhere else doing something that matters
And I'll admit here, while I sit here
My mind wastes away and my doubts start to gather

Whats the purpose? It feels worthless
So unwanted like I've lost all my value
I can't find it, not in the least bit
and I'm just scared, so scared that I'll fail you

And sometimes I think that I'm not any good at all
And sometimes I wonder why, why I'm even here at all
But then you assure me

I'm a little more than useless
And when I think that I can't do this
You promise me that I'll get through this
And do something right
Do something right for once

So I say if I can't, do something significant
I'll opt to leave most opportunities wasted
And nothing trivial, that life could give me will
Measure up to what might have replaced it

Too late look, my date book
Is packed full of days that were empty and now gone
And I bet, that regret
Will prove to get me to improve in the long run

And sometimes I think that I'm not any good at all
And sometimes I wonder why, why I'm even here at all
But then you assure me

I'm a little more than useless
And when I think that I can't do this
You promise me that I'll get through this
And do something right
Do something right for once

I’m a little more than useless
And I never knew I knew this
Was gonna the day, gonna be the day
That I would do something right
Do something right for once

I notice, I know this
Week is a symbol of how I use my time
Resent it, I spent it
Convincing myself the world's doing just fine
Without me
Doing anything of any consequence
Without me
Showing any sign of ever making sense
Of my time , it's my life
And my right, to use it like I should
Like he would, for the good
Of everything that I would ever know

I'm a little more than useless
When I think that I can't do this
You promise me that I'll get through this
And do something right
Do something right for once

I’m a little more than useless
And I never knew I knew this
Was gonna the day, gonna be the day
That I would do something right
Do something right for once 
----------------------------------------------


Thanks, Relient K!

Unfortunate Hold

Life throws curve balls into your plans. I am a Weak Thing right now, struggling to keep working at my job but thinking that I've reached the breaking point. This throws a bit of a wrench into our plans and may even result in a move. All my crochet ideas, my poncho design, have to wait for now -- between missing work, shifting medications, and feeling all around terrible, there's no time or budget for yarn shopping :(

It's disappointing. It's depressing. And most of all, it's stressful. I know it will all work out, that it will all be OK, but I feel helpless and at the mercy of my own body. Sure, it's easy to promote my Weak Things verse when I'm feeling good; but at times like these, I'll be honest, it's hard to keep that mentality going. I don't want to be weak, sickly, and anxious. I want to feel good, to feel normal. 

Whatever happens, whatever comes, it will be hard and it will try my faith, as it does every time. But I know I will come through.

It just may take more time than I wish.

Celebrating 1 Year!

May 28 was our one year wedding anniversary! We celebrated by going to see the Phantom of the Opera and dressing up. It was a wonderful show! But even more wonderful is the fact that we are even deeper in love with each other now than we were a year ago when we said "I Do." I didn't think it was possible to fall deeper in love with my husband, but it was, and I can't wait to see how much deeper the love grows as the years progress!

To My Love: 

"I made the choice to wait for you,

You made the same decision too, 

And I know we'll be happy. 

We had so many chances to throw it all away,

But we both stayed strong and God brought our lives together that one day.

Now I kneel and pray and I thank God that you are safe.

You were worth the wait."

Lessons I'm Learning From My Cat

My cat Rufus always needs a way out. When we let them outside for a few minutes of time in the "wild" he's always very interested and curious, sniffing the bushes, going beyond the point he's allowed, etc. But if we close the back door, he gets nervous. Really nervous. It's like his adventure mode kicks in as long as his umbilical cord to the safe inside world is not cut off. As long as that door is open, he'll branch out, search, discovery, and even enjoy himself. If the door closes, he recoils to what he knows is safe, what is secure, and what is constant.

The same applies to being held. If you hold him snuggly, he starts to fret. His claws start digging into you as he looks around wildly. He feels trapped because the power of your arms do not allow him a way out. But hold him gently and he's a bit more tolorant--still not thrilled about the whole situation, but at least he knows that he can get away.

Just recently I realized I'm much the same. I always need a way out. If I feel trapped, I panic and try to retreat to my safe zone. I'm not talking about Claustrophobia, though it sure sounds like it. I'm talking about the non-physical. I fear the entrapments of sickness, the stress that comes along with it and threatens to complicate anything and everything I could possible imagine. My current job is a good example. After taking an 8 week leave of abscence for medical reasons, I came back to work as scheduled, nursing what would become a terrible sore throat. I made it back my first day and then missed two. I made it the next 2 days and the sore throat was gone. Finally! I could get back to my life! Monday was good. Tuesday I couldn't get out of bed and was exhausted beyond belief. Wednesday was the same. My boss arranged for me to work at home to make up the time. Thursday and Friday I struggled through. I called my doctor; I got better.

Now I'm fine. I'm back at work full time and living as usual. I don't feel a need for my "out." Yet I can't help but wish that this feeling for a safety backup would cease to be so extreme in the hard times. The fear is so real at the worst of it--and so distant at the best of it. I wish rationality would stay in the worse times.

I wonder if Rufus wishes for a closed-door adventure? But then, he's just a cat.

Intro

So first of all, let me start out by saying that I realize this blog is one in a trillion, and this is more for journaling purposes than a desire to change the world. I just want to post crochet patterns, share favorite gluten free recipes, and chronicle my wonderful married life with the man I love. I don't yet have a "direction" for this blog, other than what I previously stated, and perhaps I never will. Whether this becomes something or not, I'm doing this for me -- for fun :)