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I do not write a porn blog, y'all

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Coffee, tea or me?  And I had to laugh when my husband suggested that be my answer to him for most everything...

But it did appeal to my inner domestic diva in all it's hostess glory and I could hardly contain myself.  Because...SO EXCITED.... it is January which means home sales galore all over the city, the nation, maybe even the world.  And I imagine all over the globe that people are getting all new sheets and towels and comforter sets in a myriad of colors.  

The other day... well really, I think January 2nd because I couldn't wait a second longer in the new year... I was at Marshalls, my home away from home.  For the sole purpose of  stocking up on new towels for the boys' bathroom because #1, they are spoiled, and #2 so are their towels.  And at checkout the young lady in her late teens, early 20's asked if I was redoing my linen closet.  And I almost squealed in delight at the great prices of my new towels, and at the fact that the next generation of young ladies recognizes both the need and the beauty of a properly stocked set of linens in the home.  Love. 

And I also re-stuffed the pillow shams on the bed.  And now they're fat and happy for the new year and husband can complain more than he already does about all the extra pillows and their lack of purpose in life.    

But I am admittedly a girl who can't say no to beautiful things and loves spreading the beauty around to the entire world.  And the best way to do that?  At home.  Loving on my people and filling them up with comforts that they can count on in a world that can go either way depending on the day.  


Kid 3 has some new buddies this year, an interesting bunch, kind of a wandering, move around a lot, but sweet at the same time kind of bunch.  And they walk home with him several days a week after school.  And one new kiddo yesterday looked around our house and had WOW written all over his face.  Because... well, I don't know.  Maybe he doesn't come home to a mom waiting for him after school each day in a home that's warm and smells of cookies.  Sometimes my kids don't either.  

But to me a cozy home is one where everyone has a place.  Not a place that's  so picture perfect that the dog can't sleep in a chair every now and then.  Which she does and thinks we don't know about.  And not a place to keep people out... but a place so welcoming that it asks people in.  

End of story on that subject.  In fact, men.... you just keep reading.  Because this isn't a story all about linens.  It's also about love and lovelies.  In fact look at this lovely....

That's me.  Really.  Well really it's my profile picture for another blog that I write occasionally/rarely/when I feel like it... mostly about God's blessings as it applies to our family and husband's job... (and when it's all up and running smoothly and my heart is ready to put it all out there, I'll tell you more.)  

But y'all....  Y'all.... someone apparently thinks I dabble in porn because some of the visitors I get on there shock me till my eyes grow giant.  So I had to make a little I could be your mother comment to make sure that my visitors know they're in the right place.  And by the right place I mean -  is your heart and soul praying for your porn problem?  Because if it isn't, I will gladly do it for you.  So there.  I probably lost some potential readers with that declaration but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.  (and fyi... no I cannot see who or where or when anyone visits my blog... I can only see traffic sources - like if Facebook refers a reader, or Bloglovin sent you to me, or any other place that distributes my stuff.  So read away, friends. Read in anonymous peace.) 
 
Anyway, I think my fire wife is lovely and wonderfully representative of courage and beauty all wrapped up in a statement of pride in our family's called profession.  And truth be told, I have been down a fire pole, just not dressed like that.  

Oh, and we watched a documentary about some nomadic people who live in ice and can pack everything they own onto the back of a yak.  I think this is what I might look like milking a yak.  


But after the nomadic people moved on, I went to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal and looked around at my new hallway light fixture that I think is adorable, and my new family name banner on the fireplace mantle,  and fell in love with my home again.  And I dropped to my knees and gave thanks that I didn't have to milk a yak to have a bowl of cereal. 

And I think I'm just really in love with the idea of home.  With all its comforts and sense of belonging.  With its place for everyone feeling and sense of expectation and hope for all who enter.  And more often than not, a hope that my kids will stop throwing everything they own all over the floors - and just buy a yak to pack it on.  

Y'all, in other news.... I got recognized in the bathroom of the YMCA yesterday for a blog post I did for our church.  (Which has a really large readership and makes me nervous that if and when I say something totally ridiculous that it will travel far and wide through the land and I will forever be known for ignorance.)  But this time, a sweet lady recognized me from my blog picture and I felt very much like a bathroom celebrity at that moment.  Much like Jennifer Aniston must feel everywhere she goes.  I totally understand now.  And I will be signing autographs tomorrow in the ladies room at the YMCA if you happen to be around. 

But even bigger recognition this week was this.... that I got a note from a dear person.  A dear person to me, as well as a dear reader of this so called life blog we gather together to read... who after a rough patch recently, found some sort of crazy comfort in something I wrote.  

And as much as I fret and worry over what I want to say or what I can't think to say.... it turns out, sometimes stuff just works.  And maybe, more likely, after all is said and done and the hands of God bless what I write, something works out.  And that's all I need.  

And of course I was thankful for the kind words that made me feel like what I do here matters.  But I was even happier to know that this place is an online comfort for someone who needs to know that she isn't alone.  That a good laugh and the reassurance of another voice can make you feel at home.  Wherever you are.  

post script....  I prayed about this blog for a long time before I actually started.  And I still do.  And sad, but true, I've prayed many doubtful prayers of wanting more.  Of wanting bigger and better and faster and all the other stuff that seems like the right thing to want.  Until I remember its not.  And when I get a loving comment from someone who sees the real worth of the words here, it makes my hopes glow in their own selfishness.  I'll keep working on that.  



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