Becky Bacon is coming back on August 29.  I can hardly wait.  She is an absolute joy to be around.  She walks into the house, takes her stuff to "her" bedroom, puts yogurt in the fridge (I hate yogurt) and sits down.  Sometimes, we talk.  Sometimes we don't.  Sometimes we go get Hideaway Pizza, sometimes we go to the Garage and get hamburgers.  Sometimes we scrounge around in the refrigerator for leftovers.  She is like the sister I never had.

Of course, I have my sister Lisa, but she is the exact same age as my girls.  So she is more like one of my children.

Becky B. is going to help me hang pictures.  I should be through with everything else by the time she gets here, and the only thing left will be to hang things on the walls.  If we don't get everything done, my friend Rebecca Perkins has volunteered to help.  I'm going to be in debt  to everyone I know.  That's okay, they are good friends to be in debt to.

The last move, Lisa (sister) hung all my pictures.  But that was before she and Becky (daughter) got into the estate sale business.  (Swan Estate Sales--google it.) Now, neither one has time to mess with this kind of stuff.  And Lisa has a full time job Monday through Friday as well.

I'm sure I'll have plenty of help.  My Connection group at church has volunteered to help.  I'll use them to transport greenery and lamps if I need to.  I am so blessed that so many people have said they would help me.  I've learned one thing, when you are my age you need help.  I've always done everything by myself, but this time I do need help.  This will be move 27.  The next one--I swear--will be 6 feet down.

I've been making sandwiches for Tony and his boys everyday.  They scarf everything down.  And are so very polite.  If the rest of the world is raising boys like these two, our world is going to be in good shape.  When I went over to check on things today, their dad had backed himself into a corner of the hall, and the boys were crawling in and out of a window, bringing him tile they had cut for him.  Every time I think I can't be more impressed, they one up their game.

On Wednesday, it will be August.  What happened to this year?!!  It is trickling like sand through my fingers.  I barely got Spring started and we are in the dog days of summer.  And the world is burning up.  It is hot everywhere.  All over the world.  I think it's probably time everyone agreed that the earth is warming up, and getting even warmer.  Europe is setting temperature highs.  So is Asia.  Hello--is China listening?  Maybe we should all get together in peace and figure out what to do for the good of us all???

Tile is down in the new house.  Tony will seal and grout it by Tuesday.  It looks fantastic.  All of you out there are invited to come by and look.  The appliances will be delivered Wednesday.  The 1st.  The counters go in Thursday.  Everything will be installed by Friday.  Jon, Scott and Sam are coming Saturday, Sunday and Monday to move all the boxes I've packed.  The movers are coming that Friday the 10th, and this house closes on the 13th.  Monday.   I think I am going to make it.

I watched Tony lay tile for the last five days.  And those 13 year old twins.  They keep amazing me.  Austin was running a tile saw with a water cooled rotating blade, and cutting tile while his dad was laying it.   He, Austin, said, "Go look at the tile I cut to go around the floor vents.  They were perfect.  I asked him what he was going to be when he grew up.  "A chef," he answered.  "I love to cook.  Especially baking things."  He has already picked the school he is going to go to in five years.

And Tyler said, "I'm going to be a mechanic.  My dad has already helped me take a car apart, and an engine apart," he continued.  "He taught me about a bunch of other car things and how to reassemble them. " I didn't know what he was talking about.  He obviously did.

What is so amazing is the intelligent conversations these boys conduct.  They hold their own on any topic that has come up.  They told me about the many (Many, many) surgeries and hospitalizations they have had due to problems they encountered (as twins) at birth.  Austin matter of factly said, "I gave Tyler a bunch of blood when he had to have a transfusion."  These boys amaze me.

They will go far.  I told both of them that I would try and make it to their high school graduation.  It gives me something to look forward to!!

Tony calls me grandmother.  The boys call me Ma'am.  You can't beat that.

My friend Jeanette--I don't know if I have mentioned her before--is the first friend I made in Edmond when I moved here.  I was standing outside the First Baptist Church on the first Sunday morning after moving here, wondering if this was a church I might like to visit, when she came up and asked me if I would like to go to her Connection group with her.  So I did.  And now I am teaching it.  And Jeanette has been like a spring in the middle of a desert.  She is always ready to help me.

She came over today to look at the new house while Tony was laying tile.  And when she went home, she called and said, "We need to make cutouts to scale to help you figure out where things are going to go.  I'll come over tomorrow and help you do that."  Hallelujah.  Praise God.  I have been so exhausted packing boxes that I haven't had time to figure that out.  I have always made cutouts before I moved--measuring the rooms and where the windows are--but I have been so busy that I put that on the back burner of my mind to do later.  I had no idea where things were going to go.

Well, later is here!!  Jeanette is going to help me.  It is such a relief.  And on top of that, Ann called and said, "Tomorrow morning we are going to take a break and go garage sailing.  You need to do something fun for a few hours."

I am so blessed.  God provides me with people in my life who care about me and lift me up.

One of the things I have learned in the last eighty years is that you need people who uplift you in your  close circle of friends.  And you need to drop those who pull you down.  In my past I have had to pull away from people who made me feel "down."  Good people, but not exactly what I need in my life.  I need people to keep me going.  I want to spend my time with people who don't gossip, moan, whine, or negate others in every situation.  People like that make me tired.

Of course, all of us have our moments.  We all need to be picked up and restarted from time to time, everyone needs a friend to talk to when things are going on in their life which are difficult.  But for some people, moaning about their difficulties is a permanent home.  They like it there.  And it will wear you out.  My friend Jeanette has given me a lift from the "Slough of Despond."  (Pilgrim's Progress.  Read it.)  Today, I am going to cut out stuff from graph paper with my friend.

One invention that we didn't have when I was growing up was a paper shredder.  I remember tearing things into tiny pieces to destroy them.  But with every advantage--paper shredder--comes a possible disaster.  Have you ever turned one upside down, up into the air when it was full of shredded paper?  That's what I did this morning.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had been over carpet, tile, etc.  But I upended it over a glass of water which got knocked over in the process, 20-30 pages of books and paper I was trying to sort.  And my chair--need I go on.  It was a colossal mess.  It is still a colossal mess and will be until I shake everything out that is covered in tiny pieces of paper and wipe up the water.  And then the only thing I can do is break out the vacuum sweeper and hope for the best.  What a mess.

I was trying to be careful.  It made no difference.  I think everyone should upend a paper shredder flying through the air in their lifetime.  It makes you thankful for another invention we didn't have when I was growing up:  a vacuum sweeper.  We only had brooms and dust mops.  You used the dust mop on wood floors that had been waxed to a shine with Johnston's Wax.  I don't remember anyone having carpet.  We had throw rugs.  Which had to be taken out each week and hung over a clothes line.  Then you would beat the rugs with a wire contraption until the rugs didn't spew dust anymore.

I remember saying to my Gran, "You had it so much harder back when you were raising a family."  She answered me by saying, "We washed outside in a tub, hung everything on the line to dry and threw the wash water on the kitchen floors and swept them with a broom.  The water ran through the cracks in the floor to the dirt below, and the chickens were glad to find a cool place to hunker down.  We didn''t have to keep things "Pretty" like you do today.  In some ways, it was easier."  Can you imagine carrying heavy loads of wash water into the house to clean floors!  And Gran was probably barefoot and pregnant.  She had 6 children.  I don't know how she did it without a vacuum.

Nobody waxes floors anymore.  Floors come with a permanent shine.  And when that wears off, you paint a new shine on that lasts as long as the first one did.  Or strip it out and lay a new floor.
Polyurethane put Johnston's wax out of business.  And Hoover put the oil mop out of business.  Things change.  God stays the same.  Today, tomorrow, and forever.  That's a good thing.

My contractor has twin boys--Tyler and Austyn--that I have fallen in love with.  They are such gentlemen.  Thirteen years old, and they work along side their father Tony--who I truly admire and respect for the way he has raised his sons.  They work.  And are learning to do things most thirteen year old boys have never heard of.

The other day, I went over to my new house and one of them was ripping out tile with some sort of a power jack.  The other one was sweeping up the mess.  Yesterday when I went over, both of them were on top of the kitchen counter ripping off wall paper above the cabinets.  And it was stuck really bad.  They had spray guns to wet it down and soften it so that they could get a grip.  I've removed lots of wallpaper in my past, but I never saw paper that was so stuck and hard to remove as this was.  But I am sure the boys will get it done.  They were sticking with it every time I went over.

All the while their dad was sanding down the concrete where the tile had come up.  Getting it smooth and prepped to lay new tile.  I hope they have it done by the end of the week.  But that may be a little ambitious.  It is a huge job.  It is a wonderful thing to watch a man training his sons how to work.  And their dad does a loving job of helping them learn.  It's a rare thing in today's world for a father to apprentice his sons.  In my day, it was the norm.  Boys grew up knowing how to do just about everything to keep a farm running.  Electrical wiring, plumbing, woodworking, building barns and helping with "House Raisings."

The entire town, or church, would raise a house from the ground to the rafters in a day.  The women would feed all of the workers breakfast, dinner and supper before the day was done.  Boys, and girls grew up knowing how to do things.  Everybody pitched in.  But that is rare today.

Most kids don't have a clue any more what they want to be when they grow up.  They go to school, but don't get a chance to apply anything they are learning to the real world until they graduate.  And if they to to college, it isn't any clearer to them.  As a counselor, I would get a new crop of college freshmen every fall, and ask them what they wanted to major in.  Every year it was the same:  "I don't know.  I just think I'll take the basics."  By the time they figured it out, they had wasted two years on stuff that didn't count.  And even then, many of them still didn't know what they wanted to do.  Sad.

I have lived through 14 presidents.  I find it interesting how much of history people forget--or maybe they never knew?  Franklin Delano Roosevelt was president when I was born.  He was in his second term--having been president since 1933.  I was born in 1938, and was seven years old when he died.  I remember.  The war was not yet over, and the people of America were very unsettled.  Roosevelt was in his fourth term as president--an unprecedented accomplishment.  (Now presidents are limited to two terms.)

When you live through something, you know what happened--which is not what the history books write about it later.  I know what it feels like to have FDR as president.  It affected everyone in the country, my folks included.  My family talked about events with other family members.  I grew up hearing very intelligent discussions about politics.  About the economy.  About war.   Roosevelt was revered by almost everyone in America after we got into WW2.

But the president I remember the most about was Truman.  He was president from the time I was seven, until I was fifteen.  I watched him be very decisive about dropping the A-bomb to end WW2 before more Americans died.  Japan had been defeated, but refused to give up.  He later sent troops into Korea to stop the move of Communism there.  He became President when FDR died in office, and was later elected to a second term, serving from 1945 to 1953.

I voted for the first time for the next president, Eisenhower.  I didn't tell my grandmother.  She would have disowned me.  She was a dyed in the wool Democrat.  But Eisenhower was a hero, and I was much impressed by heroes at that age.  I voted Independant once--Ken knew the VP in that party--he played football with him in Pensacola. Through many elections, I have voted.  Sometimes one way, sometimes another.  I have tried to understand the issues, knowing that I was going to be disappointed in the results of my vote.  Democrats are not Democrats anymore.  Republicans are not Republicans anymore either.  I don't know what has happened to either party.  I lived through a time when the presidents tried to do what was right--in as much as they knew how.

God please protect us from almost all of the politicians of this age.  God please lead our nation as you have in the past.  Help our leaders figure out what they need to do to keep us out of war.

Have you ever been afraid to open a package? You know what is in it, but what if it isn't exactly what you ordered?  The tile for the dining room and kitchen came Saturday.  I haven't had the heart to open any of it.  What if it isn't the right color.  What if it isn't what I picked out...etc. etc.  What if I hate it?
The tile man comes today so it is too late to regroup.  It's going down one way or another.

I spent yesterday going through "The Closet."  You know the one.  Back tax returns.  Paper articles you have cut out.  Family memorabilia.  Three ring binders filled with...??  Some is easy to throw away.  Some of it I thought I would never open again--back when I moved here.  It's that "Just in Case" stuff that you are afraid some other generation might want someday.  I sincerely don't know what to do with all of it.

I saved that room and closet for last because I dreaded it.  It was worse than I thought.  I did toss all of Ken's "Aunt Betty and Uncle Clair" stuff.  They died years ago and left no children.  All their nieces and nephews are gone.  I've kept their stuff for 30 years.  Too long.  Nobody cares any more.  Sad, but true.  I tossed and tossed and sat and wondered what to keep--for someone else to trash.

Life is filled with things that don't matter.  And way too few things that do.  This is the second time I've made my "Last Move."  I swear I am never going to do this again.  I still have CD's.  And cassette tapes.  I did throw the reel to reels out--only to have Becky ask for them a couple of months later.  Who knew!!  I'm going to leave all that stuff in "The Closet" and let David (who bought my house) figure out what to do with it.  The next generation is better at this than I am.  Nothing is permanent with them.  Technology is moving too rapidly for me to figure out what to keep.  They throw stuff out with abandon and get new stuff.  I can't do that!!

We never threw anything out when I was growing up.  We had so little.  We were always "Making Do."  Repurposing.  Making kids clothes out of some adult's old work things.  Using pant legs, zippers and whatever we could--to go into a finished garment.  Nobody threw out plastic bags, twist ties, rubber bands.  Old inner tubes were cut into rubber bands for our clothes pin guns.  Kids didn't have store bought toys.  Only what gramps fashioned for us.  It was the best of times.  Moving was never a problem.  We didn't have much to move.  Just what God provided--which was enough.

Becky Bacon is an RN.  A super duper excellent RN.  Today, I was cleaning out the medicine shelves from stuff that I still had from when Ken was alive--almost 5 years ago.  We went through it all together and threw most of it out.  Yea.  I didn't know what to do with 90% of it anyway.   I always feel guilty when I throw something out that someone can use.  But you can't transfer medications legally, so I don't feel too bad.  One thing I was glad to get rid of was Tamoxifen--a chemo drug that I took for 9 years.  It was a terrible drug with multiple side effects--none of which were good.  But thank God I recovered.  I don't think it was Tamoxifen, I think it was prayer.

One more cabinet--the medicine cabinet--cleaned out and ready to pack.

We packed throw pillows today.  It took three really big boxes.  I have way too many.  I will not take all of them into my new house.  They will stay in their respective containers for Goodwill to enjoy.   And Goodwill picks things up!!  I called Habitat for Humanity today to come get the stove, oven, microwave and dishwasher from my new house.  I'm updating, but they are still useful.  HFH will pick them up as well.  Win-win.

I think I am going to break even on moving.  I hope so.

I bet you all out there are sick of my "Moving" saga.  Stay with me.  I'm sick of it, too.

Hopefully this will be over soon.

Emptied the  freezer section of my refrigerator and took it across to the new house--I bought her freezer before she left.  There was meat in mine that was so old that even Squig wouldn't eat it.  Becky B. and I found some recent lamb chops--which we are having today.

I found stuff that I knew was in there that I hadn't been able to find.  The women in my family have a sickness called "If it has been marked down, you have to buy it and freeze it for another day."  I promised myself that I would never do that--but when you have a heredity gene for such as that, you can't help yourself.  Little by little I filled my little freezer section to overflowing.

I hereby make a vow:  I won't do that again.  I will cook everything I have now before I buy more.  When my mom died, I cleaned out her freezer.  In the bottom were things with dates back five or more years.  And in a freezer that wasn't frost free, all the water had been sucked out of the packages.  Instead of red meat, it was gray.  Daddy didn't know how to cook,  so after Mama died, all that frozen stuff just sat there for another five years.  I should have checked it sooner, but I didn't.

Becky B. and I cleaned out much of my garage--and took shelves over to the new house to put them on.  I feel like I have actually started to move.

Pat is coming in a few minutes to take me to the tile store to load tile.  She has a pickup.  Tony comes Monday to start ripping out the old tile--original to the house thirty years ago and stark white that shows every thing that touches it.  I need something more forgiving.

1Peter 5:7  "Cast your cares upon Him for He cares for you."  I think I must have my cares on a rod and reel because I cast and then I reel them back in.

I now own two houses.  One more than I want.  But my grandchildren won't close on this one until August 20.  In the meantime, in the hottest month of the year, I will be paying for two air conditioning bills, water, gas, garbage, insurance, etc.  For 13 more days in July, and 20 in August.

On the other hand, it gives me time to get everything done that I want to do at the other house.  Starting tomorrow.

Becky Bacon is doing great, praise God.  I hope the fourth surgery is a charm.  She is staying until Saturday--and another week if I can talk her into it. We are going back to her doctor tomorrow, then on to the tile store to order the bathroom tile.  Tony is supposed to start tearing everything out on the 23, next Monday.  Ripping wallpaper down, etc., painting--after he textures the walls that were wall papered.

I just want it all to be over yesterday.  I am almost completely packed except for the kitchen--and I've packed everything in the kitchen not necessary to survival.  I am finished with all the bedrooms.  Books, pictures, doo-dads.  They are stripped.  Except for furniture.  I see light at the end of the tunnel.  This is a lot, lot, harder than it was three years ago.  But back then, I had Craig taking care of all the contracting here on this house.  Now I am having to do both--pack, move and contract.

I couldn't do it if I didn't have the full assurance that I've done what God would have me do.  If I can just control spending, I should break even.  Minus a third car garage and a third bathroom.  But I get a family room out of the deal--which I didn't have here.  It is a break even deal for me.

One thing I couldn't resist doing was to go to the nursery and buy shrubs.  They were on sale.  I will get started on planting things before I do anything else.  The yard is bare.  A clean slate for me.

Of all the tomatoes I planted, I think I like the Cherokee Purple the best.  I don't like the pear shaped yellow salad tomatoes.  They have no taste.  Mushy.  I planted 8 different kinds, so I am learning something.  One thing I learned for sure while living here.  I do not ever want a Koi pond again.

Squig chewed his stitches out.  I took him back to the vet.  They glued it together this time and wrapped it again.  With a red wrap.   I think they save the red wrap for bad dogs. He is going to have to put the neck tube on again.  And of course, he hates it.  If he chews it off again, I'm going to glue his incision together myself.  I'm too embarrassed to go back to the Vet.  I had told him that Squig wouldn't chew on his leg--that he was a good dog.  And of course, Squig let me down.

Becky Bacon is going in for surgery this morning.  Her eye is really awful.  She drove herself here from Pryor and had to stop four or five times to put pain killers in her eye.  Supposedly this time, it is a piece of scar tissue that has blocked the drain.  Hopefully, this time is a charm.  She won't get a red wrap.  She is a good patient.  But this has just about worn her out.

I'm good.  Praise God.  Aside from packing boxes, nothing is going on.  I close on the house across the street this afternoon.  Then I can start figuring out where the furniture goes.  My new house has more rooms, which means more walls.  This should be a snap.

God bless you.  And may your day be good.  I appreciate all of you who read what I write.  I think of you every time I open my Mac.  And on a day like today--when I don't have anything much to say, I wonder, will you come back tomorrow when I do....?

The Old Testament is full of stories about real people doing real things that didn't work out like they planned.  The stories are brutal and consequential.  God's people.  Flawed.  Over and over again they refused to obey his laws and reaped the result.  Then they would pledge to do his will again.  It only lasted one or two generations.  They say history repeats itself and those who don't study history are doomed to repeat it.  It has been four generations since the forties--at least.  I had children, they had children and they then had my great grandchildren.  In four generations people have lost their disgust for the things God forbids.  It is the new normal.

We have a history book that spans at least 5000 years of people doing the same things over and over again with the same results.  I can't help but wonder why people don't read it.  Why they don't take God's words of warning to heart.  When you do the wrong things, you will not have a right outcome.  There will be consequences.  You won't like them.  People ruin their lives with all sorts of sin.  The kinds of sin that God forbids.  And have to live with the aftermath.  They hurt, and the people that love them hurt--sometimes even more.

David was such a man.  Everyone remembers that "David was a man after God's own heart."  Because he was repentant.  But he suffered the consequences--even though he belonged to God.  He kidnapped a woman, raped her (she had no say in the matter) and then killed her husband.  For the rest of his life, David reaped the results of those sins.  His child by Bathsheba died--God told him that his punishment was that the child wouldn't live.  His oldest son raped his half sister Tarah.   David's third son killed the first son.  And his third son betrayed him.  David never had peace in his family again.  Yes, he repented.  But what he did followed him the rest of his life.

Payday someday.

I think things are going to be okay!!  I am better today than I was yesterday.  I don't feel so frantic that I may not get all this stuff packed.  I went to bed last night and fell asleep without tossing and turning for two or three hours.  I am normally a tosser and a turner, so what a blessing it was to just go to bed and fall asleep.

Of course I woke up at 4:45.  But that's okay.  I had plenty of time to do the crossword puzzle.

I've been watching Nova, and the Nature channel between packing boxes.  Squig is really interested when animals come on.  He lies by my side in my chair and watches TV with me.   Then sits by my side while I pack another box.

Day before yesterday when he had surgery on his leg, they wrapped it in a pink bandage.  When they changed the wrap the next day, they apologized and gave him a blue wrap.  I don't think he noticed.

My grandson's wife Jennifer has been helping me pack on Tuesday and Thursday evenings while David is in school.  He's working on an MBA at night after he finishes his day job.  I am so blessed to have people who have volunteered to help.  It is a lot harder than it was three years ago.  I'm not the girl I used to be.

I can't believe that it was only 7 days ago that  I went to Pryor to get a haircut and all the way there, I thought about the house across the street having a flat driveway.  I came back to Edmond on Friday night, walked across the street Saturday to my realtor friend and bought it.  And sold mine the next day.  I feel like I am in some kind of a dream.

I'm glad life is not graded on the curve.  I'm glad God is taking care of me.  I'm glad I don't have Alzheimer's like my mom and her sister did.  I'm glad I can think.  I'm glad that I recovered from breast cancer.  I'm glad that my children love me.  And even better, sometimes they even like me.  I'm glad that I have good friends.  When I start counting my blessings, they just go on and on.

God is good.

Meltdown.  Do God's children have meltdowns???  Well I had one this morning.  The guy who was going to form the platelet for the kitchen counters showed up--right on time.  We went to the new house--I don't have possession for 9 more days, but the owners said I could measure.  So----we went in and the counters were covered with junk for a garage sale.  Everywhere.  No way he could measure.  And he doesn't have an opening to measure again for 15 more days.

I called Sally and she cooled me down.  "It's all going to work out, Janie," she said.  "You know that.  You just need to take a deep breath and trust God."  Duh.  What was I thinking.  I am such a perfectionist that I want everything to go 1, 2, 3.  But sometimes life goes 1, 6, 2.  I have everything lined out the way I want it and "Boom."  I have to recalculate.

I can recalculate.  I taught math for 20 years.  I know how to recalculate.  But, oh, it is painful for me.

It is not easy to be a perfectionist.  People don't live up to your standards.  You really believe that when someone says that they will do something, that you can count on it--because they would always be able to count on you.  But no.  It doesn't work that way.

But I will figure this out.  The kitchen counters will get measured.  The granite will be cut to fit, and it will get installed.  I just want it all done yesterday.  I just "lost it" for a moment when my plans went up in smoke.  Sally smoothed me out.  Calmed me.  She's really, really good at that.

I have the best friends in the world.  God has given me all that I need.  He is so good.  I'm going to get up in the morning and pack more boxes.  There is plenty to do to keep me busy.  I called my youngest son Jon, and he is going to help me move boxes on the 4th and 5th.  And grandson Sam is coming on Monday the 6th to finish the job.

In three days and Becky Bacon will be here.  She is going to stay for a week.  Heaven.  Such a wonderful blessing.  She is calm.  I need calm right about now.

Yesterday was traumatic.  Too many things to do and too little time to get them done.  I'm sure you've had a day or two like that.  I took Squig to the Vet at 8:00 AM for surgery.  I found a lump on his right leg that looked really bad.  The Doctor said it was one of two things, either of which could be not good.  Turned out that he was able to get it all, it was contained.  But I spent four hours not knowing and it was really stressful.   I love Squig.  He loves me.  Just thinking about losing him was terrible.

The vet asked me if I wanted it tested and I said, "No. If it is cancer, there is no treatment for it but chemo, and I wouldn't wish chemo on a dog.  I've had chemo and it is the worst thing I have ever experienced.  I wouldn't do that to him."  The vet said that I was a wise woman.  I agreed with him.

But since I couldn't pick Squig up until they released him at 3 that afternoon, I drove to Oklahoma City--to keep my mind occupied--and picked out tile for the master bath at the new house.  Then went to the another tile shop and ordered the tile for the kitchen.  I don't think there is any way a woman could find all they want in one place.  It goes against our nature.  We like to make things complicated.

This is all such a tight squeeze.  Not enough days.  Everything happened so quick.  I thought I would have at least a week or two before my house sold.  I'm thankful, it's just that I'm pushed.  Becky Bacon is supposed to be here Sunday.  She will chill me out.

The best thing about good friends is that they fill in the cracks of your inadequacies.  They make you whole, entire, and functional again.  They convince you that you are better than you really are.  I think that is all I need right now.  A good dose of true friendship.

One good thing has happened.  Since I am in motion--filling boxes, bending, stretching--I am losing pounds.  I only need to lose six more and I will be very happy.  My back isn't.

It is amazing how greasy things on the shelves above the kitchen cabinets can get in three years.  Tomorrow I am going to fill the bathtub with Dawn and hot water and wash all the decorative greenery that was up there.  That ought to be good for at least a couple more pounds???

David's son--sired through an illegitimate relationship with a married woman who had no rights to refuse him--was condemned to die.  David begged God for his son, but there are consequences to sin. It may seem like you are getting away with the wrong things that you do, but as one of the great evangelist of the 30's and 40's used to preach, there is "Payday Someday."

David's son died, and the rest of his family suffered horribly for what David had done.  The people of Israel knew--and they also knew of David's relationship to God--Jehovah.  What a terrible aftermath came from these three sins--theft of a woman from her home, adultery, and murder of her husband.  God told David that he was an embarrassment to Him.  God said that David gave, "...great opportunity to the enemies of God to despise Him..."  Non believers were watching David.

Today, the devil's workshop is the church.  If he can find men and women who confess to be Christians, but who live like the rest of the world, then he has won the battle for souls out there who are watching us.  It gives rise to the saying that, "The Church is full of hypocrites."  Gandhi, of India once said, (my paraphrase) "I would have become a Christian if it hadn't been for Christians."

If you are like me, I am constantly evaluating my life to see what I should be working on next.  "I am working out my own salvation with fear and trembling," as the Apostle Paul once said.  Of course, there is nothing we can do to work our way into heaven, Jesus has already paid the penalty for us.  But we can become more Christlike as we become aware of the ways we have failed him.

Don't ever ask to see yourself as God sees you.  You will be utterly defeated.  But He is gracious to reveal the "next step" we need to take.  A person can deal with one thing at a time.

Problem is, just when you think you have it made, God reveals the "next step" through the Holy Spirit. That's what the Apostle Paul was talking about when he said, "Work out your own salvation..."  Your problem areas are unique to you.  You can't compare yourself to someone else.  We are in a constant state of being saved--even though we are saved.  He is making us into a new creation.  Fit for the kingdom of God.

Posting may be erratic for the next three weeks.  And then, I will move out of this house, all of my junk will be in the new house and I can take all winter if I want--to unpack it.

Lesson yesterday was about Nathan informing David about a man who had one sheep, and another man who was rich and had dozens and dozens of sheep, who took the poor man's sheep to roast for a guest.  David was infuriated.  "He deserves to die.  Make him repay the poor man four to one in sheep."

And then the prophet Nathan spoke one of the most poignant sentences in the Bible to David.  He said, "You are the man." David had pronounced death for himself.

It is so easy to see sin in another person's life and not in our own.  David saw the rich man's sin, but not his own sin.  David had seen Bathsheba bathing, sent his servants to get her, and had sex with her.  She got pregnant while her husband was in the field in battle and hadn't been home.  And David, to cover his sin, told his general Joab to tell Uriah to come home for a few days.  Uriah slept at the door of David's palace and didn't go home.  Refusing to take a privilege that his troops didn't have.   It would have looked like Uriah had fathered the child if David's plan had worked.  It didn't.

So David, his plan foiled, told Joab to send Uriah to the front of the fighting, then pull back his support so that Uriah would be killed. And that's what happened.

David stole Uriah's wife, had sex with her, then murdered her husband.  David had many, many wives.  He didn't need to steal Uriah's only possession.  (i.e., the sheep parallel.)  David had the power to do anything he wanted to as king--even if it was wrong.  It was terribly wrong.  Theft of another man's wife, Adultery, and Murder.  Each sin to cover up the last one.

Joseph Stalin said (not a perfect quote) that the death of one man is a tragedy.  The death of a million is a statistic.  And Stalin, as well as the Nazis, killed millions and thought they got away with it.

David killed many men in war.  But the death of Uriah was murder.  He didn't get away with it.

I had a meltdown this morning.  Thinking about granite for the kitchen, and tile for 5 rooms.  (The house had never been updated and needs attention.)  So I called Pat.  She soothes me out.  I couldn't decide where to start--so she went through all the steps of how to decide what to do first.  I finally made the decision for the dining room and kitchen tile.  I felt so much better that I came home and packed three more boxes.

My neighbor Jean had five boxes of neatly folded bubble wrap in her attic.  I threw all of mine out because I was never going to move again.  Jean told me, "Never say never."  She  is right.  I was able to "bubble" a number of items that were fragile.  And once I started, I just kept at it.  I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It is always easier to see the end of the road after you start.  Starting is the hard part--in all the parts of our life.  We know what we ought to do, but we keep putting off the inevitable.  Which makes it worse because then you get stressed.

I try to stay a jump ahead of stress--because I am a worrier.  People who aren't OCD say, "Just trust the Lord.  It's going to turn out just fine."  I do trust Him.  When you buy a house one day, (so now you own two houses) and then you sell yours the next day, you know it is by the hand of God.  I think He grants me mercy because He knows me.  I have bees in my brain.  It isn't a matter of trust so much as an ability to shut my mind off.  Bees.  They buzz in my head.

I was in the middle of a sentence this morning, talking to Pat, then switched to another subject--then a moment later finished my previous sentence without taking a breath.  She said, "How do you do that. It drives me nuts."  She is calm most of the time.  I just think about two or three things at the same time and talk about all of it at the same time.  It seems normal to me.

I'm not going to leave a bunch of nail holes in the walls for my grandkids to worry with.  So today I am filling them in and painting over them.  It will be a good day I know, because I am going to be busy.

Becky called me last night and said, "Mom, can you make potato salad for tomorrow?  We are all going to get together.  Twelve to fourteen of us. Your potato salad is the best, none of the rest of us make it right."

"Sure," I told her. "I'll do that."

"I'm grilling hamburgers and making a pie.  Pat is bringing baked beans and broccoli salad.  I'm not sure what Jennifer (my youngest son, Jon's wife) is bringing."  Then she added, "We're all coming to your house.  My house is a mess, covered with estate sale stuff."

That's how I ended up having a party at my house yesterday.  And just as I had just finished packing over half of my dishes--trying to get a jump on moving.  Luckily, I still had 20 plates left--you never know how many people will show up.  They usually bring friends.  I've done a party for 45 before, so this is not very big.  And Becky has a Valentine's day party every year--once for over 120 people.  We both know how to do this--no big deal.

Becky said, "Look at it this way, if someone spills something on the carpet, it's no longer your house anyway.  Ha, ha, ha."

I will have everything--that is not necessary to life--packed by two weeks.  Sheets, towels, my entire stocked pantry--all of it will be boxed and labeled.  This will be my 26th move.  I know how to move.  It's moving in that I dread.  No two houses are alike--the kitchen is always configured differently.  And closets.  They are never the same.  I will have a long shallow pantry instead of a of a square deep one.  And of course, there is the furniture.  Only the bedrooms are similar.  Oh well, I like to figure things out.  I will just get a measuring tape and soon know where everything has to go.

The party came and went smoothly.  It was a lot of fun.  We had 14.  Jen and Jon brought the two boys, 3 and 6 years old.  They fed the fish in the Koi pond, raced trucks all around the house, and Brady and I found Waldo on at least 10 pages.  I am exhausted.  I have a wonderful family.  I thank God for his blessings.  I thank God for my country and all of those who serve.

God bless America!  For all those who serve--and have served.  Thank you.

My house sold within 24 hours.  They will close in four weeks.  I close in three.  After David and Jennifer rejected the house across the street because it had too much work to do, I bought it.  Then they asked to see my house.  And bought it.  Like I said yesterday, whoever buys this house is going to get a whale of a deal.  No way I could ever get the money back that I've spent on it.  So if I am going to lose money, I'm glad it is for two of my grandchildren that I love.  This house is perfect, there is nothing left to do--inside or outside.  It is finished and beautiful.  But it has a slanted driveway that is too steep for an 80 year old woman.

I am so excited that my grandchildren will live across the street from me.  What a wonderful thing to have someone I love so close by.

Now I have to redo my new house.  Tear out tile and old wallpaper, rework the master bath, move my Italian chandeliers.  Line up people to tile, do the kitchen counters, and a million other things.  The most wonderful thing is that I can come back over here, and get cuttings from the hostas, peonies, ajuga, phlox, strawberries, etc, etc.  And all the tomatoes I've planted will produce more than they can eat, so I can share in the fruit of my labor.  This is a wonderful blessing.  To them, and to me.

I bought a house one day, then sold my house the next day.  Whirlwind.

Tomorrow I will pick out tile for the floor, and granite for the kitchen cabinets.  This is the hard part.  There are too many choices.  My mind is buzzing.  What should I do first?

Writing a blog is going to be hard for the next few weeks.  I can't think straight.

Bear with me.

It is strange how God works in our lives to give us all of the things we need.  He is so good.

When I moved to Edmond, I drew a three mile radius circle around my daughter's house and told the realtor to find me something with a flat driveway inside that circle.  Nothing was available.  That was my only request.  I  got within the three mile perimeter, but I didn't get the flat driveway.  And in three years--since I've been here--it has gotten harder for me to be steady on my feet as I go down the driveway to get the mail. The slant does me in almost every day.  I'm not getting younger!!

There is no way that I would move away from my wonderful neighbors who are so good to me.  But when the house directly across the street with the flat driveway came available, I thought, "This is what I was looking for three years ago."  After talking to everyone in the family about whether I was crazy or not, they all said, "Buy it."  So I made an offer, they  accepted.  Done.

Now I need to sell the one I am in.  The one that I have put three years of labor into landscaping.  The one with the garden just now starting to produce fresh vegetables.  This means I'll have to start over.  But since I love to do stuff like that, I'm sure I'll be okay.

Someone is going to get a whale of a deal on this house.  There is no way I can get my money out of it after all the things I've done.  I had said that I was never going to move again until they moved me six feet down.  Now, I am eating my words.  I would never have done some of the things I've done, or spent the money doing those things, unless I thought I was staying here forever.  But things change.

I take possession in three weeks.  God willing my carpenter is coming that day to start the overhaul--I've never moved into a house that I didn't have to do something--and this is no different.  I just hope I can get everything done before I get pressed by a buyer to move out of this house.  On the other hand, I hope its sells quickly.  School is starting and people are looking.  But if push comes to shove, I can do it.  I will have all winter to hang pictures, and figure out the small details.

I told my Sunday School class this morning that I would have a luncheon for them if we could have a "Move the Kitchen Day."  They seemed agreeable.  I got a man to come by this afternoon to haul off all the stuff in my garage.  Furniture, lamps, etc.  He is very poor, needs money, and resells it all. I had been wondering what I was going to do with all that stuff.  Praise God.  It's gone.

I spent Thursday and Friday in Pryor.  Got my hair cut.  I have to find a beautician in Edmond that can cut my hair.  Driving to Pryor for a haircut is nuts.  I stayed with my brother Bill and wife Janet and that is always wonderful.  They live in the country and it is so peaceful.  We sat on the porch swing and watched the humming birds.  Cardinals, woodpeckers, orioles and a dozen others came and went from the bird feeders.  Bill and Janet have been adopted by a very pretty calico cat that comes to the door when she is hungry.  She eats and then leaves for "Who knows where."

I stopped in Tulsa and had lunch with a friend that I hadn't seen in 62 years.  And I finally got the real story of how the Claremore swimming pool water turned yellow--yellow indicating the "perpetrators" description of the Claremore football team.  I knew that whoever actually did it used WW2 marker dye.  Dye that was used in ocean water to spread out on the surface of the water--so that survivors of airplane crashes or ship bombings could be spotted.  But where did they find the WW2 marker dye?  Who found it?  Who put it in the pool?   Now there are six of us who know.  I wouldn't want to name the other five guys.  I don't want to get in trouble with my friends.

It was really fun to return to 1954-56 for an hour.  We swapped stories, ate shrimp and catfish, and had an enjoyable break in both of our lives.  All of my best girl friends from that time are gone.  Betsy Gaither, Barbra Roy, Chrystal Tankersly, Peggy Panter...I could name a dozen more.  And the memories that we held in common are gone as well.  I'm the last leaf on the tree.  We grew up in the most wonderful time in the history of America.

I got to see Carolyn.  She is home from the Nursing Care facility learning how to function without standing on her foot that had surgery.  Doing wheelies in her wheel chair.  I stopped to say hello to a friend who brought homemade coconut pie to Ken every week when he couldn't eat much of anything else.  She was so faithful to do that.  And last week, she lost her husband.  He was a WW2 D-day landing survivor.  The greatest generation.  I stopped at Judy Baumert's house.  She has a sign near her front door that says, "Until God opens the next door, praise him in the hallway."  She lives by that.

Every time I go to Pryor, I try to see a few friends.  I don't have time to see them all, I keep a list! But next time I go, I'll try to see Amy Smith--she sends me cards and letters.   Who does that anymore!!