How Can You Mend A Broken Heart

“She'd cried over a broken heart before. She knew what that felt like, and it didn't feel like this. Her heart felt not so much broken as just ... empty. It felt like she was an outline empty in the middle. The outline cried senselessly for the absent middle. The past cried for the present that was nothing.” ― Ann Brashares
It seems, from the music that's been around forever, that the entire world walks around with broken, shattered or empty hearts.  The Bee Gees wrote a whole song about it. You can find the lyrics here.  
This musical phenomenon was what I was thinking about last night when I couldn't sleep for nothin'.  Of course, I had my iPod playing, currently at 9432 songs, mostly about broken hearts.  Somewhere between  the Bee Gees and Tom Paxton's The Missing You, I started thinking about things that broke/shattered/and otherwise, leaving me with this misshapen thing currently moving my blood around.
Back when I was seeing a Psychologist to help me try to make sense of something that is totally insensible, I wrote a bunch of letters that would never be mailed  to the people who had, in some way, chipped out a piece of my heart.    Some were little chips, like the ice chips you eat when you have the stomach flu.  Some were huge, gigantic hunks that would never fit in the proper place again, no matter how many letters I wrote.  Dusty Springfield wrote a great song, covered by Janis Joplin, here.  So, since I was apparently doing music as much as heartbreak, I thought I'd try matching a song to each heartbreak I remembered.  Some fit perfectly, others I just jammed back in so I could move on.
So, here they are--if you are troubled and heartbroken, you could try this.  I never did get to sleep, but I feel like my heart has been repaired with Gorilla Glue, with most of the edges of the pieces matching. I am going to tell of my heartbreaks, one  day at a time.  Let me know if they resonate with you.
In elementary school, we moved from a mountain city to to a flatland prairie between second and third grade for me.  The first day of school, the boy behind me in line said, "Ill take you for my girl friend."  I went home pretty happy about this, and thinking that there might just be a replacement for Tommy, my mountain guy.  The very next day, I lined up happily in front of my new fella and he turned his back on me!  What?! I decided I wasn't special enough for him, so I made up all kinds of stories about having a twin sister and other reasons I was "special".  (note:  If I'd had a teacher who wasn't brand-new and didn't show favoritism, this probably could have been nipped in the bud.  Maybe.  The guilt was worse than the snub.  Anyway, when I got to gym (no phys ed way back when--we changed into sneakers and played vicious games of dodge ball), the teacher seemed to feel some animosity towards me, and I could hear some whispers about picking the new girl last that the teacher didn't seem to hear.   Long story short, I was unpopular and branded a liar (okay, yes, I was) and was *Outcast* for a long time.
It took me a long time to figure out why I went from girlfriend to outcast at 8 years old.  It was one of those d'oh moments that I had as an adult that a child would never understand.  The boy behind me had been told by his parents (who included the gym teacher as his mother) to *be nice to the new girl.  She comes from a place where there are lots of people of our religion, and she's probably one of us.*  Well, I wasn't one of them.  The next day, in order to rescind his boyfriend status, he started the whisper campaign that I initiated with my lies.  And mama, the gym teacher, and the brand-spankin' new classroom teacher, did little to find out what was going on.  I was, at age 8, caught in the middle of things that adults don't even understand.  It's the same problem Israel and Pakistan have been fighting over for years...the My God Is Better Than Your God battle.  Doesn't excuse my lies, but God has already forgiven those.  And that's what really counts in the end.
Blessings!

Lists

I have discovered that when I don't feel too *hotsy-totsy* (my dear mama's phrases)  that I can't seem to complete a post *to save my life*.  So, I am going to do what all the shiny magazines do.  Until I can finish one of the gazillion draft posts I have waiting for me, I'm going to do lists.  I can compose them in those times I am waiting for meds to work, which will make some of them terse and some of them silly, depending on where on the medication spectrum I am.
So, here's my list of 25 Things You May Not Know About Me:

1.  I currently have 8830 songs on my i-Pod.
2.  I know  the words to almost all them. 
3.  Until I married The Hubs, there were only 5 people in my nuclear family.    4.  Right now, I have lost count of all of the family I have...but I know there     is at least one on the way... so maybe 109?
5.  My studio is currently a disaster zone that has wedding, Christmas and card making stuff all over the place.  
6.  I need to straighten it up, because I can't craft with  anything out of place.
7.  I watch White Christmas before I do anything else on Black Friday.

8.  I used to be able squeak by and say I was 5 feet tall.  Now, it's 4 feet 11 inches.
9.  I have been in love 4 times in my life.  Number 4 is definitely the best!!
10. A mouse once ran over my foot as I was using the euphemism.  Talk about having the pee scared out of you!
11. I love to go to Garage Sales.
12. I read cookbooks but seldom prepare anything from them.
13. I have one dog and two cats.
14. I listen to Christmas music all year long--it's so joyful!!
15. I usually have more than one book going at a time.
16. I know what I was doing when JFK, RFK, MLK, and Elvis died.
17. I am kind of looking forward to dying--can't wait to be in the arms of Jesus!!
18. I have been in all the contiguous states except 1...Maine. 
19. My favorite seafood is crab, my favorite meat is beef tenderloin.  
20. The seashore is my place to be...some day I'll live there.
21. I apologize for the whole voting for Taylor Hicks thing.
22. I sometimes wish I could say what I am thinking....
23. I'm pretty sure that my children are the reason I was born.
24. I know someone who committed murder, someone who was murdered, a counterfeiter, someone killed in an auto accident, a drug dealer,  more than one person who attempted suicide, and more than one rape survivor.  Too much in one lifetime. 
25. I wish I could fly.  

I am here, snowed in pretty much and feeling bad for all the people out there who aren't prepared for a little snow.  We got 20+ inches, but they have sent the plow around six times and the hubs  ran the snow-blower, so we're good here.
A couple of posts back, I showed pics of some things I made for my daughter's wedding.  The photo to the left shows a couple of the fascinators I created for one of her showers.  They were fun to make, but after making 20, I was tired of purple flowers and feathers.  I am very happy to say that I was able to do something constructive (at least for me) with the leftovers.
I was out Christmas Shopping with the husband when I saw these four foot purple artificial trees.  I immediately got a picture of one of them decorated with wedding things.  (My usual method of creation is these flashes, which I then add more to or subtract from as needed)  So, we came home with the tree and some silver sparkly decorations to fill in with.
 My usual way of making one of these very full trees is to plan on something for each tip.  The tip count is usually on the tree box.  I had lots of it, so using tulle and sheer organza ribbon, I tied the new decorations on the tree.  I used the Katie and Brian banner as  a decoration thet went up one side and down the other, along with the rose and tulle border from the Welcome signs.  The large purple bows became part of the topper with my facinator.  Each tip had something tied on--although I had to go to the dollar store for a few purple balls to round things out.
I really had pictured doing this with my daughter, but that wasn't in her plans for the time she was here, so I did it by myself.  It was just as well, because the finished tree apparently was to no one's taste but mine. My new son-in-law couldn't find the wedding items,  and my daughter has never been much of a crafter, anyway.

So, here it is, and it will remind me every Christmas of a special day for a special pair.

"Yes, yes..I should be keeping up with this better" was my original thought--but then the that voice whispered in my ear, "Why? it's your bog and you can do what you want."  So, with that tiny, belligerent  beginning, here I am.
I was ready to do just that.  Sometimes crafty,  sometimes joyful and sometimes just because I need to get some things off my chest.  This is the best and safest way to dump them out of my mind and drop kick them to behind the pine trees over there.  I can promise that my thoughts aren't being pulled out in wispy strands by a wand to be stored in a pensive; nor will they come, out in so many strands of sweetness and stickiness like so much taffy at a small town  country fair.  Nope.  I am praying, quite literally, that once I have let them go here, God will catch them as they float by and He will tell me that I can let them go.
Today is a dump day.  For those who read this blog, if you are here for a crafty thing, you'll have to wait a couple of days. .
My husband is the sweetest, kindest and most patient man around.  I am not just saying this because he's my honey, but because other people point this out to me all the time.  When I am so used to hearing things like this, and so convinced by his actions that all this is true, I am usually blindsided when something is out of whack. And, this is one of the things on me.
The hubs has a very crazy and demanding job working with emotionally disturbed children.  I know that he is relied on there, and that he needs some quiet time to settle into when he gets home.  His real time of departure in the afternoon is supposed to 4:15, but that's just on paper.  He usually leaves more like 5, if he is lucky.  He calls me every single day when he's done with his paper work to ask if I need anything or if my mother needs something. (More on mama later in the blog).  His arrival at the door is usually about 6, and he likes to watch television and be on his computer when he's home.  When I'm able, I try to have dinner ready and the laundry, etc taken care of, just like June Cleaver.  He always understands when I don't. And I understand that he needs to be away from chaos of any kind.
So, what could possibly be a problem in my happy little world?  I am so incredibly lonely, and when the hubs gets home, it's hard not to be all over him.  I try to let him tell about his day and give him the time he needs to decompress.  I try to stay downstairs though dinnertime, but the sofa down there is really hard for me to stay on for long, and he's not comfortable on the bed, so time spent together is minimized on most days.
I don't have any friends any more--the ones I had working have all dropped away.  The friends I had because of the children  are no longer around because...well, no children any more.  I was hoping my son-in-law's parents would maybe develop into something--but we have had them here too many times with no reciprocity.  I'm embarrassed to ask them anymore. So, no go there.
I don't drive, so getting myself somewhere is part of the issue--I knew when we got married he wasn't a social person. I should have known that he doesn't like *all those people* in his house.  I used to have three or four big parties here every year, but, as he isn't comfortable with that.  So, no guests, even if I knew who to invite.
The hubs is really good about taking me out on Saturdays.  He has told me he really doesn't want to go or do anything on Sundays so he is mellowed out on Monday to go to work. This is understandable and I try to let him have the day with whatever sports teams are there for his viewing enjoyment.
None of this is anyone's fault.  My hubs is still the best man I know.  He does the very best he can with what God has dealt to him, and I'm more in love with him every day.  So this was a *dump* day, and I feel better for unloading it.  Suggestions welcome.
Thanks for reading, and Be Blessed.

I want to explain how there came to be two purple trees in my house this past Christmas.

Purple is not my favorite color.  It is, however, my daughter, Kate's, color of choice for her wedding this past September.  For several months, I didn't want to see anything purple again.  I spent weeks making all kinds of things in purple for her reception, a few of which you can find here on the blog, courtesy of Kelly Sullivan, her photographer.
I made 10 different banners, 9 of which had Scripture relating to marriage and one with their names on it.  I made envelope sleeves and decorated mason jars for flowers.  I made signs and got together with Sheryl (Brian's mother and my neighbor) to do other crafty things for the reception. Here are some of them, courtesy of Kelly Sullivan, the photographer.  In another post, I'll show you what was done with them after the wedding. And add on the the purple tree saga.
Be Blessed!

Christmas Trees

I love Christmas Trees.  I love them so much that, at last count, I have 36 of them!  I used to go all-out at Christmas decorating.  Garlands of (fake) evergreen festoon the shelves in the dining room and family room. We had two parties at holiday  Christmas time. One was for the families of Katie and Billy's friends: soup, bread, and cookies Kate and I spent a day baking. The other party was for Advent, to celebrate the coming of Christ, our Messiah.  My brother gave the children a wonderful Advent calendar, with tiny Christmas Ornaments behind every door.  We would welcome our friends (one family held a great treasure, though we didn't know it at the time--my son-in-law, Brian!) read the story of Jesus' birth in Luke, light the first purple candle in our wreath and then eat cookies and drink eggnog (ick) coffee and hot cocoa.
And the decorations?  It looked like Santa had a tummy ache (didn't his mother teach him to leave a bite on the plate?) and spewed Christmas all over the place.
Needless to say, this all took time, a good eye for placing mistletoe and holly (that art minor comes in handy sometimes) and the desire, stamina and energy to point to which Rubbermaid totes Carl should drag upstairs.  Now that his knees have pretty much given up on this, it is time to engage in some kind of cold-turkey break from all but my most cherished decorations.
Over the next few weeks, I will be going through all my Christmas decorations and donating the ones I no longer want to a church-run flea-market down the street.  And you will find glimpses and how-tos about how I make our home welcoming for strangers, friends and Jesus.  No matter that the parties are a thing of the past and that the decorations are just for Carl and me to see.  Jesus is here each and every day, and sometimes he rings the bell on the bird tree, just to let me know he's around and giving an angel its wings.  You don't hear a bell?  Maybe you should read The Polar Express and travel down to Seneca Falls to refresh your memory of "It's A Wonderful Life".
So, in the next few days and weeks, you can join me in this process of organizing Christmas--and lighting a candle under Carl's knees.
We'll jump feet first in to this tomorrow.  For now, I want to show you a silly little thing we found at Lowes (when we were supposed to be getting something manly Carl needed).  There was a row of silly little stuffed  creatures, all with a "push me" button to make the Santa, the reindeer, the penguin, etc. dance and sing some Christmasy song.  We were having a grand time, starting and stopping them, trying to get the songs synced and keeping them from falling off the shelves.
Then, we found this one.  He was tucked behind all the others and was clearly waiting for us to discover him.  We pushed his button and you'll never believe what came out.  Freebird.  Yep.  One of the all-time great rock songs in the world.  No Jingle Bells or Chestnuts Roasting on this duck's playlist.  Lynyrd Skynyrd all the way!  Watch him in action here:
Strike that match today!!

I love my dog.  Oreo turned 12 yesterday, and the vet says she is as healthy as can be for an 84 year old dog.  She is on meds for her arthritis, eats very healthily and knows her territory by heart.  She is, however, beginning to show the signs of age I have been experiencing for the past few years.  Her hearing is becoming more *selective*, she is showing signs of cataracts and she sometimes goes into a room and just stands there, like she can't remember why she's made the trip.
i have recently started trying to come to terms with losing her someday.  No matter how hard I try to accept this, my heart breaks a little bit more each time it crosses my mind.  So, today, I decided to light my dog's world.
Oreo loves winter.  She loves the colder temperature and the random romp in the snow.  She chases squirrels from the bird feeders, even though she can't see them very well.  She will still stand under the oak tree, with two or three squirrels high up in the branches.  I know she can;t see them, but she certainly knows they are there.
I am not usually as patient with these forays out into the yard.  On days like today, where my bones are hurting and my body aches and I feel like I'm coming down with a monster of a cold, I tend to let her out and call her back in soon, so I can go back to bed.  Today, however, I didn't make her come in.
I let her out to chase the four critters away from the feeders and got ready to call her in.  She turned to look at me with such a forlorn, "Do I have to come in now?" face that I shut the door and watched her.  She made her loop around the yard, sniffing her habitual path.  She took a catty-corner detour to do what well-bred dogs do outside, and then scampered over to the bushes where the birds hide.  She scared off a flock of swallows and them had a sampling of the snow.  Is it tastier under the bush, or right here on the edge of the patio?
When she was ready, she came to the door for me to let her in. She did her happy-dance wiggle and licked my face as I wiped the snow off her back. I watched her jump into the recliner that has been her bed for as long as any of us can remember.  She gave a sigh of gratitude, and began purring, which she learned from the cats.  If she had passed at that moment, I know she would have bee as happy and content as she could be.
So, my good deed for the day--my candle of brightness touched the life of my dog today.  She was far more grateful than many people would have been--and she accepts and gives love so unconditionally, it isn't a hardship to give her this love in return.