I have dared myself to clean house this week. I know that sounds simple and uneventful to many... but for those who really have no sense of joy in housecleaning.... you know my pain.

Anyway. Yesterday started out well enough. I cleaned a bunch of things and organized some. Today I got all caught up in cooking. That is fine, and technically domestic, but the house is not perceptibly better. I need a daily impetus forward in this thing. And my cooking was good enough that I have no left overs for tomorrow.

That wasn't supposed to happen. Although leftovers that don't get eaten would be worse. Then it is ....aggghhhh waste!. Waste not want not to haunt me through the month.

I struggle with things about my dad still, but I am past wanting to discuss it for now.

I ran across some blogs that have this mem to remember the eighties. Some guy said he didn't remember them, and that made me think of my reaction. I have a hard time remembering events if I have to -like put on the spot to remember. The eighties were a blur of trying to be "better" all busy and hardworking... the type where you work til you drop. Where you are too tired to go out even if someone else pays for it.

Now that is tired. And that is how I used to work myself...with the this old house, the kids, the homeschool, the church activities-neverending church activities multiplied by each kid plus the good Christian mom demands, the husbands needs and rants, the garden, the parents.... you get the picture. I get too weary to completely describe it.

Sometimes it makes me regretful. What did all that busyness accomplish?

I mean really.

I am thankful for the relative calm of my life now. I am thankful that I am not trying so hard. I am thankful that I can trust God.... that I don't have to manufacture a life. Just live one.