Lucky Duck

I'm in need of a good haircut but the weather won't cooperate. Over Christmas I run around like a chicken with it's head cut off, hope that's not too graphic for you first thing in the morning...that's what hillbillies say when we are busier than a one armed paperhanger. Anyway I need a haircut bad. The last time I had a haircut I hadn't colored in awhile and the glare from my silver roots nearly put Suzy's eye out! She is the best hairdresser I've ever had and she cuts my hair dry. Isn't that odd? She spends extra time getting it just right and I just love her. When we moved to GrannyMountain 5 years ago it was just too far to go back to my old hairdresser. I spent the next 4 years trying to find a good one. Along the way I had some really funky haircuts. Too short, too long, too uneven, not layered right, bangs way too short, bangs way too long...you get the idea! Then one day as I was setting at the last stoplight before you leave town, I noticed a salon up the block. It set back in a little shopping center with professional offices. The sign was so inconspicuous I had missed it over and over as I passed by. Hundreds of trips in and out of town in 5 years, plus the year we were building and I had never noticed the shop.

I just got lucky and found Suzy. Luck plays a big part in my life it seems. Lucky to have found a great husband the first time around. Lucky to have had two lovely daughters. Lucky to have three wonderful GRANDsons.

But I no longer have to worry about a bad haircut like this anymore!

No Place like Home

“Close you eyes and tap your heels together three times. And think to yourself, there’s no place like home.”

– Glinda, the Good Witch of the North (Wizard of Oz )

Isn't that the truth? There's no place on Earth that feels as good as home. Your own bed, the clothes that you call your favorites, even the food that waits for you in the pantry. No matter where we have travelled, it's always good to come home. I love everything about this house, where it sets in the woods, the way the sun filters through the trees into the living room...conveniently just where I'm setting in the late afternoon. I like my little black teapot and my Earl Grey Tea. I like my comfy chair and the furry faux leopard throw to cover me up and take a nap. And I love the way the house feels when we are both home and Ben is asleep at our feet.

Through the years there were times when home meant different places. Like the transfer to North Carolina when we lived in a motel for several weeks while the new house was finished. Amy was 8 then and Stephanie was off to college. It was the first time our family was apart and it was a hard move. We were only there a few days when we received a call from the movers, the van had turned over on an icy road in Tennessee with all of our worldly possessions on board. It was a terrible feeling being in that motel room and not knowing if we had anything left to put in a house. The insurance paid for all of the broken furniture and Thank God, the really important things like Grandma's china was intact.

A few years later in Texas we sat in a shelter after the worst flooding in a century devastated our lakeside neighborhood. Twenty-six inches in twenty-four hours. We didn't expect to find a dry house the next day when we were allowed to return. The water came up to the edge of our garage, then receded. All of the waterfront homes had water 12 foot up on the first floors and it was weeks recovering. We pulled together during that terrible time, neighbors who mostly said polite hellos shared meals and homes. Brought us to our knees literally and figuratively.

Worrywart

Have you ever heard that expression? Usually in the form

"Don't be such a Worrywart."
Merriam-Webster defines wor·ry·wart as:
A person who is inclined to worry unduly.

From time to time, we all feel anxious. Wanting something to happen, or not to happen. Daddy used to call it borrowing trouble. No ones' life is perfect, no such thing. In 40 years we've had lots of worries. The first few years, it was how were we going to pay for...tuition, new baby or just the rent. Sprinkled along the way were cars that quit working, many job transfers and raising kids. Lots of worry there. But I must say illness was the one thing that makes you feel helpless. Everything else you can deal with. Everything else gets solved somehow. But illness is that uncharted land where the "What Ifs" lurk around dark corners and wait with bad news.

We had health issues with both of our daughters and at a very young age it was overwhelming. The stress it added to our marriage could have torn us apart. I can't say why that didn't happen. Maybe because we leaned on each other or perhaps because we both came from parents who worked out problems instead of giving up. We focused on the problem and what we had to do to get through it. Teamwork at it's best.

Every morning at our house begins with turning the coffeepot on, followed immediately with going outside to get the paper. Hubby loves his football, basketball and baseball. He devours the Sports Page daily. Coffee in hand we share the newspaper, the rest is all mine to digest leisurely while he reads the ball scores like he's studying for a test! I read the paper to him as I find interesting articles. He nods and hmmm's, acknowledging that he's heard me. Not much conversation really, but enough. We've figured out after 40 years what works for us. I think it's gonna last...