Thursday Thirteen

Continuing with the theme of messiness, today's list will consist of thirteen messy areas in my life at the moment.

1. Although I am having "a good hair day," my scalp is a flake-factory. I'm glad my dreadlocs cover my scalp so thoroughly.

2. I'm wearing cutoff denim shorts under a beautiful tunic top I bought in Spain last year. The reason the shorts are hiding beneath the top is that they are a little too tight. You know that feeling when a little flesh is being pushed up over the top of the waistband? That's the feeling I'm dealing with at the moment. But it's a very cute outfit.

3. The very cute necklace I was going to wear with my very cute outfit broke as I put it on. It's a beautiful brown and green crystal necklace that Kristiana and I designed and made together a week or so ago, but now I need to restring it.

4. Even though I floss daily, rinse with Listerine before and after brushing, use a prescripion flouride toothpaste along with my regular Sensitive toothpaste, I still managed to produce three small cavities - which the dentist says may improve on their own if I brush more thoroughly. With all due respect, Doc, I'm not sure how I can take better care of my teeth than I already do. For goodness sake, I've even cut back on my sugar intake. So I've added one or two more brushings per day - I'm up to four times daily now! What else can I do?

5. Yesterday at the noon church service, the congregation took communion. The way it works is this: we walk up to the front, tear off a hunk of bread from the half loaf in the Pastor's hand (yesterday the bread was still warm), dip it into the wine glass filled with grape juice that is being held by someone else, then eat the dripping chunk on the way back to our seats. Delicious. But by the time the entire group has been served, there at the feet of the Pastor is a scattering of crumbs from the communion bread. We eat of the bread and sip/drip from the cup, and leave a holy mess behind.

What a great parallel to our lives! Eating, drinking, sharing, talking, laughing, crying, walking, and living together - leaving trails of tears, crumbs of joy, and piles of sorrows in our wake.

6. I waited one day too long to cut into a pineapple, so when I chopped off its spiny, tough skin, it was rotten. We all moaned at the loss. Daniel reminded me that he'd suggested to me the day before to cut it and put the pieces into a bowl to prevent the very thing we were lamenting. "A child shall lead them;" I should have listened.

7. I saw Laurie at church last night. Her face was gaunt. Her eyes were eerily vacant. I hugged her gently. She thanked me for the note I had written, and then she was gone. I didn't know what to say or do. So I whispered a prayer for peace and comfort for her. Later a friend and I conspired to find a way to be with her in her grief and love her in her sorrow. We plan to pick up some tea bags, cake, fruit, and flowers and just show up at her house. Even if she isn't at home, who wouldn't want to come home to a basket of loving-kindness at such a time as this? There is nothing anyone can do now but love her.

8. My heels are hard and crusty at the moment. I had a pedicure the week before last, and my feet looked great - for about four days. Last week I used the foot bath I own. I scrubbed these overworked feet, used my high-tech sandpaper-pumice stone thing, and they felt and looked great - for about two days. It's time to tackle them again.

Oddly, I confess that I am grateful for the hardness; it demonstrates how active I am in my life and reminds me that the hardness in my heart can also be softened --> but none of the results last long. Life happens, so the therapeutic cleansing must be repeated often.

9. Our backyard is a teeming, growing, green place with bushes that are taking over the walkways, vines that are choking the flowers, and ivy ground cover that is threatening to cover the lawn. I SO wish I had a green thumb or even a genuine interest in keeping the yard under control. I know that the previous owners of this house, who surely spent thousands to plant this magnificent garden, would be appalled at the condition it is in now. I need to break down and hire somebody to come tell us what it all is and how to take care of it. It's a beautiful, quiet, colorful garden, but it's a mess.

10. Today is the fourth day in a row that I am going to have to drive one child or the other to a sports-related practice. That doesn't include playdates, church-related events, doctor's appointments, and all the errands in between. While I know that there are millions of mothers and fathers chauffering their children to and fro in our vast nation, that many of them have more than two children and more than one activity per day, I still have times when I feel sorry for myself. I ask questions like: What must it feel like to just get into the car and be driven every place? What must it feel like to just arrive in the kitchen to a hot meal, to open one's drawers to clean clothes, and to find fresh bars of soap and tubes of toothpaste at the ready at any given moment?

11. There are four large Rubbermaid containers sitting on the floor on the other side of the homeschool room just outside of Kristiana's bedroom door that need to be put into the attic. What is inside those boxes, you ask? OUR CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS. I can't put them in the attic by myself, so I have to wait until Steve is available. When Steve is at home, those boxes never cross my mind. I wonder if I should just leave them there for the rest of the year and save ourselves the trouble of bringing them back down in six months' time. No one seems to mind their presence. They aren't in the way of anything, nor do they block the path to any other place in the room.

12. Because it's been so dry here in Charlotte, the pollen and mold counts in the air are extremely high, and my allergies have been horrific. Sneezing, runny nose, itchy ears, and more sneezing. Did I mention sneezing and runny nose? Disgusting. And my particular brand of hay fever comes with frequent nosebleeds. I am not a pretty sight most mornings. I wake up honking, blowing, sneezing, coughing, and end up parading around the house with one nostril plugged for indeterminate lengths of time. Fortunately, I am blessed with a tolerant, supporting, loving family. I think they feel sorry for me most of the time; the rest of the time, I think they just want my noisy, wet performances to end. So do I.

13. I spend far too much of my time and energy on trying to look perfect, speak perfectly, and be perfect. But I am far, far, far from perfect. I eat organic salad and wash it down with diet soda. I talk too loudly on my cell phone and frequently use it whilr I'm driving - without a headset. I don't return phone calls when I should. I forget appointments and meeting times. I talk too much sometimes, and fail to speak up appropriately at other times. I am obstinate, obtuse, and overbearing. I am habitually flighty, easily flummoxed, and hopelessly flawed. Mine is a hurry-scurry, frolicksome, willy-nilly, gratifying, jumbled, jovial, awkward, worrisome, upbeat, messy life.

Truthfully, I cannot imagine it any other way.