First Post of the Year (true to form, three weeks late)

Happy New Year?

Seems I do everything belatedly. Ah, well. I have a good excuse this time: we moved!

And I'm sure y'all know that already.

Dad just set the computer up last night, so this is the first chance I've had to really sit down and use a computer in probably two weeks. Yes, I know we're in the third week of January, but it's been a busy month.

Whoa. Three weeks into the new year. Yikes!

I don't have much to say right now. I just needed to blog, especially with it being Tuesday. If any of my devoted readers have noticed, I changed my title, as I said I would. I don't remember when exactly I decided on it. I remembered this post, which I didn't realize until now was the first post ever for this blog! (Also, the song mentioned in that post has still not been written. It may never get written,  unfortunately.)

Around the time I settled on my new title, a friend shared this with another friend on facebook:

Life is But a Weaving
Corrie Ten Boom (The Tapestry Poem)

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.
Oft' times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
... Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not 'til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver's skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned
He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.

 

It's not exactly the idea I had behind "Tapestry", but it's very close, so it deserves sharing. It's also just a good poem.

My right pinkie is getting numb in this cold office, so I'll be wrapping this up. (I know. Me being brief. Weird, huh?)

The new house is great! Okay, so it has its quirks, but none we can't deal with. Probably the biggest for me (yes, bigger than tricky doors and weak heating upstairs) is the well water. At least, the hot water that smells like sulfur.

The first morning here, I woke up, and in my semi-conscious state* I thought someone was cooking eggs. Then I sat up and realized that wasn't quite right. Then I realized it was someone running hot water in the kitchen.

But we're surviving. More space (I mean, way more than we've ever had to my knowledge), the ability to look out of any window and now be looking into the neighbor's house, and being surrounded by cornfields has its perks. We're not much furthur from everything, though we're trying to develop the habit of getting all of our in-town errands done in the fewest runs possible (which means I do a lot when I go in for work). Oh, and we don't have a dryer yet, because ours is gas and it's electric here. We make do.

I feel guilty having the largest room in the house, but it comes with conditions. Namely, Mom and Dad get it when guests come over (and we will be getting more guests) and I bunk with one of the girls. We raided a friend's garage when we first moved in and she shared some of her old furniture, which resulted in a bed and bookcase for me and almost a chair, but it was too wide for the stairs.

Oh, and the stairs could be implemented in a training program for hiking the Machu Picchu trail. (In that they're steep, not that they're carved out of a mountain.) (Also, I was going to use a picture with a human in it, but felt funny posting "Claire's" picture on my blog, even though it did put things in perspective as far as the stairs went.)

I'm losing feeling in my entire right hand now, so I'm going to leave. I'll be back soon, I promise.

*I didn't want to insert this into the body of the post with parentheses:
I get the dictionary.com Word of the Day, and this one came up a few days ago: hypnopompic \hip-nuh-POM-pik\, adjective: Of or pertaining to the semiconscious state prior to complete wakefulness.
As if even I would ever use this word. I'm still stumbling a bit over the pronunciation. I was going to use this word instead of "semi-conscious", but thought better of it.
Then there's Peter Pan: "You know that place between sleeping and awake, that place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always think of you."