The Truth… Sort of.

I took Colin and Eryn hiking yesterday.  This was the last picture I took before accidentally dropping my camera in the creek.  My adopted neice and nephew, and two of my favorite short people in the whole world. 

So, after hiking and playing in the creek for several hours, we stopped for ice cream.  Somehow we got on the subject of ghosts.  Eryn is adament that they exist. 

Colin – “Don’t tell me that.  Now I’m scared.”

Eryn – “Colin, do you know Jesus?”

Colin knods

Eryn – “Well then you don’t have to be afraid, ‘cuz Jesus is in your heart.” *makes slashing motions with her hands*  “Doing super-killer ninja moves to keep you safe.”

And all I can do is smile and knod in agreement.  Ain’t that the truth?

Backyard Chronicles

Still Needing some more Rocks to finish Edging.

 

Cannot *Wait* for things to start Blooming!

Pay attention.

I took care of a woman at work today who’d tried to kill herself.  She overdosed on pills and slit both her wrists in an effort to stop her husband from leaving her.  She said that she just wanted to make him pay attention.  I read her suicide note. 

As sad as it is, I completely get where this woman is coming from.

How many people have felt like that, I wonder?  So tired of feeling invisible and alone, willing to do just about anything if it might make someone notice them.  It makes you stop and think…

New Garden.

 

If it ever stops raining and warms up enough for me to actually finish it, I’ll let you know how it turns out…

Issues.

“…I’m committing to one post a day for the entire month of May.”

Apparently I have commitment issues…

Henry.

His name is Henry. He is all mine.

Elegant and Gorgeous.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve always wanted to play the cello.  As a little girl, I thought it was such an elegant, grown-up instrument.  As an adult, I think that the sounds the instrument make are gorgeous, and I still think it’s an elegant, grown-up instrument. 

I’ve never played an instrument before.  Well, that’s not entirely true; I played the flute in 4th grade, but never made it past the stage where stickers were used to denote which keys I should hold down.  I can’t read music.  I can’t keep a steady beat.  All this to say, I was a bit nervous to begin cello lessons.

I was more nervous, however, because I knew that I wouldn’t be good at it.  I don’t do things if I’m not good at them, which is why you’ll never see me playing organized sports or attempting to dance.  The thought of taking up an instrument and playing something which I couldn’t automatically be perfect at was really daunting.  I’m so thrilled I did it anyway.

Cello is amazing.  I take lessons once a week, and have a lot of fun with it.  While I definitely sound anything less than elegant and gorgeous – I tend to squeak a lot – I’m getting better all the time.  And rather than get frustrated with my musical imperfection, I’m able to concentrate on the little ways I’ve improved since I began playing the instrument.  Which, for me, is a minor miracle. 

How nice to just be able to have fun with something, and to do it just for me.

Some things change.

My mom came over to the apartment tonight.  I made dinner and then we made plans for the vacation we’re taking together in a few weeks.  I remember, 3 summers ago, back when we first started taking annual vacations, being completely freaked out over spending a week alone with my mother.  Now I’m really looking forward to it and can’t wait to go, excited to have her to myself for a bit. 

I’m glad that some things change.

Apparently this is normal.

What I’ve been busy learning, back over the course of these last few months, is that transitioning from a college student to a full-fledged adult is really hard.  A lot harder than I thought, actually.  The last 3 months or so have been splattered with days spent bursting into tears for no good reason, and with nights on which I go to bed at 7:30 simply because I’ve got nothing better to do with myself.  I’m terribly out of balance, I’ve realized, and more than a little miserable.

For the last four years, my life has been fueled by one major goal – to become a nurse.  To somehow survive the monster that is nursing school and become a nurse.  And so now I have done that, reaching my goal, and have no idea what to do with myself.  I feel like all I do is work, eat and sleep, and that my life has no real purpose any more.  There’s no new goal to replace the one I just accomplished, and I’m just sort of drifting, trying to readjust to a life that’s slower than the one I had before. 

The good news, I guess, is that apparently this is normal.  I’ve talked with at least 3 people who’ve all said that they felt the most miserable they’ve ever felt the year after they graduated college.  (Why doesn’t anyone tell you that this is going to happen while you’re in college, so that you are at least expecting it?)  These friends have all promised that things will get better.  And so I’ve taken to praying about it all, asking God to help me readjust to a slower life and to give me purpose.  I’ve also begun cello lessons, and started plans for a new garden once the weather gets nicer.  And hopefully, in combination, these things will all be enough to get me out of this funk.

Project.

My project for May, I’ve decided, is going to be revamping my blog.  I’m tired of not writing.  I don’t even really journal any more, for crying out loud.  So, right now, I’m committing to one post a day for the entire month of May.  Hold me to it, kids.