Scott and I love antiques. Well, to be more specific, Scott likes antiques and I loooooooove antiques. So if you do the math, we love them. Not the fancy, expensive, heavy, ornate numbers. We like the well loved and used primitive looking simple antiques. Sometimes the things I bring home are a little too well used and rickety for Scott’s taste. Mostly because when I bring them home, I bat my eyes at him and ask him to fix them. He works his magic and then I find a place for my treasure in our house. This process makes me so happy! A few years ago he went so far as to ask me to please stop buying pieces of junk. I can’t remember exactly how I replied, but I’m sure it was something like, “Oh silly, you know I can’t do that.” One of my favorite pieces of junk joined us on a snowy day in November a couple of years ago. Here are a couple of random pictures from that day (aren’t cell phone cameras neat?):
I found it on Craigslist and somehow talked the seller into delivering it. He and his son plopped it right into my garage. When Scott got home, he smiled at me and said that if I wasn’t finished transforming it and moving it into the house soon, he was just going to use it as garage storage. Um, no.
Some days words just won’t come. I think it’s the curse of the introvert. If I could change one thing about my body, it would be to have different vocal chords. I’d love to have a rich, raspy, rangy, soulful, powerful singing voice. But if I could change one thing about my personality, it would definitely be a sturdy rightward slide on the introvert/extrovert scale. I’m what you call an outgoing introvert, so sometimes I just hit a wall and can’t interact anymore until I have some alone time to recharge. I could do with less of that. I’ve had a couple of blog articles floating around in my head for a week now, but today, words escape me. Read more
There’s something about car time with kids. It can try your patience for sure, but it also serves up this captive but natural interaction that can be so sweet and free. I’ve had wonderful conversations with my kids in the car, and I remember car time with my mom being priceless, essential to my emotional well-being, and just what the doctor ordered after a long day of high school as a teenager. I think the fact that there is conversation without eye contact takes pressure off and lends boldness. My girls ask really hard questions in the car about sex and relationships and God. The setting gives the questioned time to process and ramble and delve. And sometimes kids just say cute stuff that warms your heart like this little snippet.