By Nicole

For about three weeks Leilee's favorite joke was: "What is the difference between a guitar and a fish?" *************************************** "You can't tune a fish!" Actually - that was her favorite punchline.  She would ask any question as the first part of the joke and end it with, "You can't tune a fish!" She thought she was hilarious. Well I can't really tune a fish.  But I can tuna fish.  Like a pro. Although, the truth is.... this is only my second year.  Two years ago my sister gave me home-canned tuna for a birthday present.  We scarfed it down like it was ocean candy.  So freaking good. The next year, I went to a canning party at her almost mother-in-law's house.  She taught us how to can tuna, and I waltzed home with a hundred jars and self-proclaimed title of "Fish-Whisperer" because I had mastered the art of picking the tuna carcass clean.  No joke.  Hand me a fillet knife and a spoon. ...

I have fallen so far off of the Meal Plan wagon, that I can't even see the dust.  It's been that bad. We've started football and Wednesday church activities.  I've been canning like a crazy woman.  Gardening like a hermit.  Collecting eggs with joy and gratitude.  Dreaming of living on a farm with solar power and lots of ducks.  Not blogging.  Not cleaning (enough). And definitely not meal planning.  Or doing any kind of planning.  Truly. Anyway. This week will be different.  We will know what we are eating before we are eating it. Monday:  Chicken soup and sauteed veggies.  I have a sick little boy who needs comfort food.  The soup is for him.  The veggies are actually going to be various squash and some chanterelles.  Mostly for me. Tuesday:  Practice.  We will have tuna wraps with lettuce from the garden.  I just finished canning and a jar didn't seal.  Yummers.  When we get h...

Tonight, I am sitting on the bed in my hotel room, staring in the face of a buffalo.  He's on a flat and somewhat shiny canvas.  When I look in those dark, sad buffalo eyes, a familiar ache returns.  An ache I thought would just fade away as the days went by.  But since it hasn't, I'd better get it down. Earlier this week, as we traveled through the north end of Denver in a taxi van, we drove by the homeless mission.  Just before dinner.  Almost dusk.  And the square was full.  This was a sight I think I thought I had seen before, and I was prepared to breath calmly and let us pass by... without giving it a second thought.  Until my coworker gasped.  She'd never seen this before.  Never imagined those who live this way.  My other coworker snorted.... something about this being just like Tampa. I wasn't going to give it a second thought.  We help the homeless and poor on a daily basis. That's my job.  And it jades ...

Here it is.  I've read many Five Minute Friday posts, and always felt like I didn't have the time (5 minutes, I know...).  But today, I'm feeling game.  Like I've already stayed up this late... a few more minutes isn't going to hurt. So, my very first Five Minute Friday entry: Start: 11:26 p.m. I'm tired.  My eyes hurt from crying.  I'm in my sweats on the couch, listening to the humming sound the refrigerator makes.  It's louder when it's silent.  The fish tank tries to be louder, bubbling and clamoring for the attention of my ears.  If I would get up off of this couch and add water, it wouldn't have a chance. Lonely.  Even when I'm surrounded by things I should be busy doing.  Tackling the mountain of laundry. Cleaning up the clutter.  Maybe if I moved around a bit, I wouldn't have time to reflect on the loneliness my heart has felt over the past few days.  There's no real  reason for it.  If we could list t...

There's that feeling again.  The one where fear dances around the edge of my collarbone.  Where I find myself taking deep breaths and listening to my heart race erratically.  Where tears threaten to slip out and my eyes burn as I hold them in. I should not be stressed.  I'm a runner.  But I'm not getting in all my runs. I shouldn't feel so gross.  I eat healthy foods!  But lately, I'm sneaking sugary snacks for comfort. I shouldn't be afraid.  I'm a Christian.  Lately I've fallen too far away from God's presence. That's what happens when I start counting on myself.  Trying to solve problems my way.  Falling into the trap of playing out scenarios in my mind.  Before I know it, my heart is racing again and the tension has spread out through my shoulders.  Carrying this heavy load is hard, and it is wearing me down. Instead of sticking with a routine I had started of getting up early to read my Bible, I started stay...

Last weekend was a particularly PMS-y weekend for me... and I think the one who ended up the worse for wear at the end of it all was poor Jason.  Not only did I unload a whole bunch of pent-up frustrations, I had a bad attitude and a "woe-is-me" complex to boot.  I still owe him a real apology.  Sometimes us women get away with a lot by blaming it on our hormones.  Every feeling and frustration I was having was very real, but the way I handled it all was pretty crappy (my kids tell me that is a bad word and I shouldn't say it, and they are probably right, but I can't think of a better adjective right now). Anyway, after I unloaded, I felt better. And I might as well just spill it all to you all too.  I had been a bit resentful and grumpy about the impromptu farm that was developing in my back yard and my living room.  The chickens were starting to get big and louder and stinking more quickly.  My morning routine was being mucked up (literally and fig...

When I was young, I was meticulous about writing thank you notes and preparing thoughtful gifts.  I often said that the blank side of the card was meant to be filled, regardless of the occasion, and I always filled it!  It was something I prided myself in, and something I miss in the older me.  The me that gets caught up in kids, and keeping house, and projects, and the rest of life nowadays.  The me that does too much and runs late and can't seem to catch up.  And then important parts of my life pass by, gone before I did a good enough job of communicating how much I appreciated them.  I didn't write the thank you notes when I should have, even though I thought of it often. Even this... this ridiculous cyber thank you feels cheapened somehow.  But I knew if I tried to write it all on a card, it would be covered in white out and scratches.  Tears and coffee stains, most likely.  And I wouldn't want it read with others around or lost in the ...