Little Boxes

black boxI love little boxes.

No, I’m not talking about those little black ones tied up with a bow and containing sparkly diamonds or shiny gold jewelry.  

Instead, my heart goes pitter-pat for these little boxes.

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Let me explain.

I’ve been reading up on something called a bullet journal — “The Analog System for the Digital Age”.  The purpose of this journal is to organize your life and boost productivity using a good old-fashioned notebook and a pencil.  It started as a simple, streamlined system created by an art director in New York City who “specializes in interactive design and usability”.

I have no idea what that means.

But then some really creative artsy people got ahold of this thing and took it to a whole new level.  After perusing the “Bullet Journal Junkies” Facebook page, I got hooked.

As it turns out, there’s a whole culture of dedicated fans who have very strong feelings about the best notebooks and writing utensils to use. They also are extremely supportive of each other and offer newbies tons of encouragement.

So I dove in with a Moleskine journal and some Staedtler Triplus Fineliner pens. Now I see what this really is all about.

  1. This is a way to create a completely customized planner.  I decide what goes in and what stays out.  In other words, it’s a control freak’s dream.
  2. This is a glorified chore chart.  I remember making job lists for my kids when they were learning to make their beds, get dressed, go to the potty.  After every completed task, they got a sticker to put on the chart.  A chart full of stickers usually meant a trip to town to buy a toy. It was pretty effective. Instead of stickers, I get to color in little boxes with my new pens.  It’s pretty effective.
  3. This is an ingenious mix of a right-brain organizational tool and a left-brain creative outlet.
  4. Some people need a little box to color in at the end of the day to give them a sense of accomplishment.
  5. I am one of those people.

Here’s a peek:

See all those orange boxes? They make me so happy.

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This is my habit tracker — it’s keeping tabs on my behavior, helping me stay accountable to the good habits I want to develop.

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Yeah, I’m not about to disclose what those habits are — that might be a little too much accountability.  I know it’s working, though, because I caught myself thinking, “If I don’t eat my 1/2 pound of raw veggies today I won’t be able to color in my box.”

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I’m not much of an artist, but I can make dots and dashes and print nicely.

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I already know what I want to tweak for November.

Maybe this is just another kick that will wear off by 2016.

Or maybe I will become a bullet journal fanatic.

Either way, coloring in little boxes sparks joy.

And it might give me an excuse to drive into town and pick out a new toy.

I Need Nature

  

I need nature more than I think I do.

I need to feel small beside a waterfall,

weak behind a boulder,

dumb before a sunset.

I need to hear the language of the loons,

the rhythm of the waves on the shore,

the chatter of leaves in the breeze.

King David was right –

green pastures and still waters

restore souls.

These Guys

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These guys don’t know what’s about to hit them.

In a matter of days, their world is going to shift dramatically.

These rough and tumble boys will soon be promoted to “big brother” status.

Baby Sister is coming!

So move over Thomas the Train —

make room for princesses and tea parties and sparkly pink stuff.

Watch out cars and trucks —

get ready for hair bows and tutus and baby dolls.

Little Sissy has a lot to teach these guys —

it won’t be long now.

Vacation

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Today,

I  smell a yellow rose,

drink coffee from a smiley cup,

and watch PB read the paper across the table.

No deep thoughts,

no pressing demands,

no duties to perform.

I am taking a vacation

from myself.

 “Come away with me to a quiet place and get some rest.”  Mark 6:31

Paying Respects

sympathyLast night PB and I went to a visitation at a funeral home for a dear lady that was a member of a church we used to serve.  We wanted to offer our condolences to the family and support them during their time of loss.  For PB, this is the equivalent of a Friday night date.  I’m okay with that.

Upon entering the funeral home, I went to the guest book and started to sign our names.  I glanced up at the 8×10 picture of our deceased friend and was stunned at how much she had changed in the last few years. That’s when PB whispered, “Umm…that’s not her.”  Realization hit that we were at the wrong funeral home.  I panicked.

Should I cross out the half-written name in the guest book?  No.

Should I go ahead and finish signing our names?  No.

So I took PB’s middle name and stuck it on as a last name and I hightailed it out of there.

PB was a few steps behind me because he had stopped to grab a few pieces of complimentary candy.

I sure hope no one saw us sprinting out the door and through the parking lot, exploding with laughter.

That might have looked bad.

We finally found the right funeral home and paid our respects to the right person.  But every few miles on the ride home, PB and I would look at each other and start giggling.

I love going on dates with PB.

Spring Cleaning

Here’s a sure sign of spring.

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Flip-flops and capri shorts and hanging out on the deck.

So that means it’s time for some spring cleaning.

Luckily, I had a little help this weekend.

We polished the mirrors.

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We dusted the end tables.

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We vacuumed the carpets.

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Evie pointed out where I missed a spot.

She’s helpful like that.

Then we organized the cupboards.

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With all the extra help, the chores were done in no time.

Maybe I worked her too hard.

9:30 a.m. is a little early for an afternoon nap.

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Play Ball

baseball

As a kid I wasn’t much of an athlete, although I tried.

In fifth grade I joined the girl’s summer softball team.  The coach put me in when we were getting creamed and there were two outs in the bottom of the ninth and it was getting late and he needed a sure out.  Thus ended my softball career.

In junior high, I went out for basketball.  I made a basket once.  For the other team.  I cried my eyes out in the locker room, even though we lost by twenty points.  So I hung up my sneakers for good.

In high school, I ran in the 440 relay.  My real reason for going out for track was because my voice teacher told me running would be good for my singing.  It was.  I lost every race but got the lead in the musical.

When I had kids of my own who showed an interest in sports,

I finally found my true calling.

I was a great fan.

That’s why today is such a great day.

In fact, today is a doubly great day.

This afternoon, I will tune in to watch the Milwaukee Brewers’ Opening Day of Major League Baseball.

Tonight, I will cheer on the Wisconsin Badgers as they play in the NCAA National Championship game.

I have never been so excited to spend hours in front of the television,

but then,

that’s my calling.

So Long, March

March is so long.

And full of madness.

I tend to slink through late winter by hibernating with a stack of books. I’m always happy to have made it through this stretch of days while waiting for real spring to show itself after some false starts.

But this year, March has been surprising.

First off, these guys came back to the Western Hemisphere, the North American continent, the US of A, the Midwest!

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Oh, and so did their parents!

For the first time in years, our kids are all within a few hours drive of each other.

Then, there are these guys.

777fd134-4456-3690-8268-c7d631510876Frank the Tank and the Wisconsin Badgers have made it to the Final Four.

March Madness is so much more fun when your team is winning.

Then there was this.

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PB and I got in the car one Friday morning and drove to St. Louis.  We saw our niece perform in a musical, ate some BBQ, and drove home the next day.  I love road tripping with PB.  He lets me pick out all the podcasts and music we listen to.  He lets me read out loud to him.  And sometimes he lets me drive.  While he sleeps, I put on the earphones and listen to the audio version of “Pride and Prejudice” because that’s where he draws the line.  

We were ready for a pit stop around Springfield, Illinois, so we stopped in at the Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum.  What a great place!

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We celebrated birthdays, our church gathered in small groups for Lent, I went without sugar for three weeks, I read six books.

Thank you, March.

You weren’t so bad.

PB

It’s PB’s birthday today!

On the day of his entrance into the world,

there was a magnitude 8.3 earthquake in the Aleutian Islands

which triggered a Pacific-wide tsunami.

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He’s been shaking things up ever since.

Love you, honey!