Monday, October 13, 2008
Mondays really are "Mondays"...
Remember all those old sayings like "Thank God it's Friday" or "Just another manic Monday"? (oooh, oooh, ooo...hear the music? "Wish it were a Sunday, that's my fun day..." hehehe)I have determined that they were all true. In the history of my
life, short as it may be, terrible things tend to happen on Mondays. And not only terrible things, but also just plain stupid things. So I am trying to figure out that if I stop "remembering" Mondays, and maybe call Mondays "Tuesdays" instead- do you think the annoying things, troublesome problems, and bleary Monday blues would go away? I wonder. All I can say is that I am really glad I am thirty minutes to Tuesday!
This last weekend was such a blast, I can't help but admit that it probably would make any day after seem like a "hang over" day. Jazz had a wonderful party on Friday and as much as I was exhausted because they don't know what SLEEP is, it was so cool to see her having fun, and hanging with girls she has know since she was in diapers. We laughed, and joked, they rode horses and jumped on the trampoline, scared themselves silly in the dark and tried to sleep in the breezeway until they realized they are warm- blooded creatures who can't tolerate freezing temperatures comfortably. Good times.
Saturday brought a treat just for me- a wonderful luncheon with ladies who knew me the moment I walked into my Christian life, with beautiful fall decorations and sweet fellowship. My dear friend, Donna, made it so elaborate, and so special for all of us, I will remember it forever. There is nothing like a cold, crisp fall day spent with women you admire and love. The best part was the countless ways Donna could make a dish with Jell-o. (Stef- stop laughing! hehehe) I will never eat jell-o again without thanking God for my delightful Miss Donna- who I have lovingly called "Bubbles" for the last decade.
Oh, to be able to look back on this life and feel full- that is a blessing only loving Jesus can provide. We had a birthday party for Steve's dad, and when he jokingly said he wished he was still 36, Grannie Anne said something that hit my heart. Her teeny 4 foot frame paused for a moment, and in her best "granny" voice she said, "Oh, I don't know...I don't think I would want to do all those years again". Wise woman, I say. On the other side of 80, she remembers that being in your thirties was no picnic. I wish I had her wisdom all the time...