Posts Tagged ‘home’


Cozy and a bit rumpled.

Confession: our house is always a mess. Lately, I can’t keep up and frankly, I haven’t even been trying. Sometimes, life is just busy and you don’t get to choose what falls to the wayside.

However, I do hit my limit eventually. And Friday night, as I headed to bed I looked at IZ and said, “I can’t walk tomorrow–this house has to be cleaned.”

I wish I could say I was one of those people who kept up with cleaning on a daily basis. But, other than making sure the dishes are done every night, I’m not. For the most part, I’ve accepted that this isn’t my strong suit. My gifts and graces do not include ” keeping an immaculate house” and I’m ok with that.

What I will tell you, though, is that I adore a clean house. Who doesn’t really? There is something so hopeful about looking around your space and seeing everything, ok mostly everything, in its proper place.  Sure, keeping up with these chores daily would mean not spending an entire Saturday to remedy the mess–but, oh is the effort worth it. Even if it’s done all on one exhausting day.

I woke up yesterday to find IZ and Geo watching anime in the living room. As I began to clean, IZ said, “Don’t worry about the kitchen.” And then he booted our son into his room to clean it and began to clean the kitchen. He did all the floors too. Which meant that I actually had enough steam at the end of the day to tackle the laundry in its various stages of undone.

Clean sheets, vacuumed floors, fresh flowers — it doesn’t take much to remind me how much I love living in this house. Despite the unpainted walls and crumbling carpets. But a man who doesn’t let you clean alone, is priceless.



Anger Management

Someone needs to take some Anger Management courses.

IZ and I talking over our decor scheme over coffee:

Me: “Sigh. You realize our bedroom is the only feminine spot in the house? The entire thing is just so. . . masculine.”

IZ: “That’s not true. Besides, you’re little miss modern. It’s not like you LIKE girly country things.”

Me: “What? Your argument doesn’t hold water. Just because I don’t do calico or chintz doesn’t mean I don’t like feminine things. I adore Hollywood Regency, and that’s like the ultra fem side of modern. We don’t have any chandeliers or leopard print or mirrored furniture anywhere in this house!”

IZ: “Because we can’t afford them.”

Me: “That’s not the point, really. Our house doesn’t look like a girl lives in it. Our house screams MEN live here.”

IZ: “I think our house screams compromise.”

Me: “Uh, more like it screams BUDGET!”

Me: “Actually, our house screams ‘These two idiots were completely enamored by the charm and nostalgia of buying their first home they didn’t think about what an old house costs to fix and are now too house poor to buy real furniture.'”

I think our house might have a yelling problem. What does your house scream about you?

Cindy Lou Who


Fah who for-aze! Dah who dor-aze!? Come on, sing along.

I’ll admit it. Last year I had a serious case of Bah Humbug.* If it weren’t for the fact that we decorate our Christmas Tree first as a Birthday Tree for the boy’s birthday, the tree wouldn’t have even gone up. Decorating? If you count dust and assorted piles of laundry strewn around the house. Then, check! Decorating done. The only baking I did was the annual Chocolate Pie, and only because revolution was threatened if I didn’t. It’s not that I didn’t want to filled with the Spirit of Christmas. I just couldn’t summon my holiday mojo. It was on strike and with good reason.

Part of it was that I bit off way more than I should have in re-doing the boy’s room for his 13th birthday. And part of it was the prospect that we could lose our house due to a severe pay cut and a troubled economy. The reality of our situation was overwhelming. I suspect everyone struggles a bit during the holidays, how to pay for it all, how to balance expectations and the inevitable stress. How to avoid the mall after December 15th. But our struggle with the bank only heightened the experience. And it had me wishing for June.

It’s not much different this year. We’re still waiting on the bank. We call only to be told we’re “in process”. The Grinch has a new name (and it rhymes with BofA). Breathing in. Breathing out. Wait, wait, hurry up and wait.  Most of last winter was wasted on worry; today we’re just moving through our lives. Because worrying changes little except the contours of your face.

So, this year I’m banishing the bah humbug.  I’m summoning my inner Cindy Lou Who and serving notice to the Grinch– Our home is a home because we are together, not because we own it. I’m doing the laundry and decorating the halls. I’m liberally applying sugar sprinkles on edible surfaces. Mostly, I’m choosing to focus on the hands I have to hold. And I’m keeping faith that these little choices will add up.

How about you? What are you doing this year to foster the holiday spirit?

* The holidays are often a trigger for depression. When is it more than just “the blues”? Know the signs.  If you or a loved one is struggling with depression, please seek help. You are not alone. ~~Wende

A Rare Day in November


We’re headed into a week of rain… but the last two days have been lovely. (and what I would do to get those two power lines out of my shot! 😀 )

Happy Friday

SB courthouse2.jpg

Santa Barbara Court House and Los Padres in the background.

Happy Friday! I hope you all have an amazing weekend. I’m leaving you with a photo of what I consider “home”. It’s been awhile since I’ve been back, but it doesn’t take much to transport me there in spirit! Like the realization that traditionally we’d be packing our bags this week and heading south with the sun. However, our annual trek home has been put on hold for yet another year. Blame the economy. I do. Instead, I’ll be living on memories and making the most of it— deep cleaning my house, prepping for dinner guests, and maybe even dining al fresco on the porch.

See you on Monday!

Hello ~ Welcome to Evidently

  • Introvert and word lover and Christ seeker
  • Currently learning Swedish just in case
  • ISFP... what are you?

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