Shelly’s Journal

Bump ran his first race on our vacation. Read all about it over at my fitness blog.

The last day of a big trip is usually a downer of sorts. I always seem to find myself “waiting” to go. It’s a little like Sunday afternoons - the fun and adventure is over and now the hard work looms before you. That’s how my day started on June 30, our last day of vacation. On July 1, I would began the previously mentioned long and exhausting day of air travel with small children. But I was itching, itching to get started. Yet sometimes, it’s at these moments that the most remarkable things happen.

I wanted to take the boys out to the shores Lake Superior. No trip to my hometown is really complete without seeing the vistas of the big lake. It’s an incredible place, and I have many fond memories of it from my youth. We’d postponed a trip several times during the previous week, and this was our last chance.

There are three access points there - S Harbor(the boating place), LG Point (the rock collecting place) and BR Harbor (the pretty place). Each is a little different, having a charm all its own. I really wanted Bump to see the boats, yet they might like rock picking at the Point or the big beautiful bridge at BRH. I hemmed and hawed, finally deciding S Harbor, simply because it was the closest as well.

I had some ghosts at S Harbor. A boy, the boy’s family, a fishing boat, fun times. The End. My fault. Mean Shelly. A weight I’ve carried these many years.

I knew the family still fished there. I knew the name of the boat. While we didn’t really try to find them. The words, “Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom,” sent us their way. As we pulled up to the restroom, in front of the car was “the boat” and the captain (the father of my former boyfriend).

And in a moment, I took a chance.

The weight I had been carrying around was lifted that day, in many ways. I wrote earlier that you can’t go home again. But I did. I went back to that time and reclaimed the good things from it. I learned a lot about grace, love and forgiveness.

And my last day was in many ways the most amazing day of my trip.

I’m back in Virginia - have been for nearly 24 hours. It’s good to be home, but lots to do. I went to bed at 6:30 last night. What an easy way to adjust back to the time change. But truthfully, I was exhausted from a day that started with a 2+ hour car ride to the airport and was followed by 2 flights with 2 small children, and one near miss on the connection. We finished off our journey with an hour drive from the Richmond airport. Not to mention that I didn’t sleep well the night before.

Now I’m back and trying to get organized. I’ve sorted through the mail and unpacked the bags. I got a load of laundry done and a little grocery shopping. It feels strange to be back in a way. I guess I most enjoyed the absence of day-to-day household responsibilities.

I see my sewing machine sitting there. She doesn’t know that I have 11 yards of fabric needing to be turned into beautiful things. She’ll find out soon.

Meanwhile, Gil has the rest of the week off, so we’ll be family communing some. I’ll be posting some stories and trip inspired ramblings over the next week or so as I have time.

Thanks to all for the birthday wishes. I had a wonderful day!

Well, today is the day. I’m 41 years old and celebrating my birthday in my hometown area. My parents just ran out to get my cake from the same bakery that I got them at when I was little -white frosting with raspberry cream in the middle of the layers. MMMMMM.

It’s been an interesting year. My little boys continue to grow and learn alongside me. I’ve just been absorbing so much from so many different sources. Coming back here makes me realize how much my life is influenced by people from all around the world vs. the people around me. I really don’t see too much of the people around me - at least not enough to find out their opinions on things.

My hometown area is small and was very isolated before TV and the internet made things more accessible. Although much has changed here, much remains the same. I’ll write more about this in the coming weeks after I return to Virginia. But one thing I did come to see - I can’t come home again. I had a secret yearning to return here to live, at least for the summers. But now, it’s faded. I’m content with the idea of annual visits.

But on my birthday, I am continually reminded of how thankful I am for so many things.

The grace of our Father
My husband and children
My extended family
My beautiful friends near and far
Good health
All the things that God has given me that I so enjoy in my heart

I am blessed beyond measure!

Congratulations to Randi on opening her Fresh Squeezed Online Fabric Store. It’s the Grand Opening!! (Insert thrown confetti here!!!) Visit her store announcement and win FREE fabric!

Just a side note that Randi did a quilt along 2.5 years ago that led me to begin a new love affair with sewing! Thanks Randi!

Are you tired of all the ant posts yet? I really am.

Sometimes, when I’m in the kitchen, it just seems like there is only one ant and he’s stalking me. I’m in the pantry and there he is on the shelf. I go back to the counter, and there he is again. I move over to the sink and he’s running there, too. Then as I walk away, I look down and there’s one on the floor….Of course, I am squashing every one of these little turkeys as I come across them. It’s just so frustrating, because I turn around and there’s an ant again!

But, by tomorrow morning, all my ant worries will be gone. Instead, I’ll have kid worries, as Little E will have his first flight tomorrow. Bump is so excited, he’s just about climbing out of his shorts. We’re all packed and ready for our crack of dawn airport trip.

And today was an interesting day. Once there was a hot tub in the corner of my yard. Never mind that it hadn’t worked in years, and that I’d been begging Gil to get it out for longer than Bump has been alive. Today, he took the power tools and wood spliter to it, squeezed all the pieces in his teeny, tiny truck and hauled it off to the dump. Now that was a sight.

The tub had long outlived its usefulness. It was a freebe that once worked, but really hot tubs are overrated. They are lots of work and lots of money to keep them heated -especially in the winter time - when you might actually want to use them. I prefer a whirlpool bathtub myself.

While he was at it, he took down the little lean-to we had attached to the shed. I wonder what will be missing when I return from my trip???? What will his inspiration be?

I’ll let you know when I return. You should see me around until then!

This morning, the pantry was quiet and since there were clean dishes in the dishwasher, the little black invaders were no where to be found. But I made a crucial error. While feeding the dog this morning, I dropped one kernel of dog food onto the floor of the pantry and then kicked off my crocs on top of it. After my morning errands, I came back to a whole brigade of the little buggers across the pantry floor. I finally found the hidden kernel and disposed of it. At that moment, I could do nothing else as both boys needed lunch and Little E wanted to sit on the potty. (So far no results, but he sits there 4-5 times a day. I figure eventually he’ll get it and then things will start to work. Heck, he’s only 21 months. I’ll take it.)

An hour later, most of them had gone on to other places. They steered clear of the pantry shelves, but I felt like they were all across the kitchen floor all day.

I’ve done a pretty good clean up, as I will be heading out this weekend for my vacation at the place I used to call home. Hopefully when I return, my dh will have gotten the ant problem under control. I really should have done something sooner, but it gets better for a few days and then they’re back. I tried the tero ant killer last year, and they totally ignored it. I don’t know what Gil’s going to do - I suspect he’ll spray and then bomb and then spray around the foundation for good measures. The guy doesn’t play.

And I pulled something in my back today during one of the potty training adventures. Nothing major, but annoying enough where it kept me from really doing anything today. Hopefully some rest will help me out. Tomorrow is packing…

Since there are no longer any sweet fields for my ant friends, they have taken up residence in the dishwasher, where they find lots of sticky juices and sugars - some really fun stuff. (They poo-pooed the cornmeal. Thanks for the suggestion Bev.) I don’t mind so much, as I just tighten up the door and push the start button…goodbye little ants.

I’ve seen a few wandering aimlessly in the pantry today, but they seem to be trailing off some.

That’s about as exciting as it gets around here these days. Unless you consider packing suitcases loads of fun - only to have your almost 2 year old unpack them for you. And be so darn cute at it.

They’re back! It’s time for my annual denouncing of these pesky insects. I noticed that they are a little late this year - last year I wrote about their trip to the pantry on May 28.

We’ve been noticing a few in the pantry for about the last two weeks. Long ago I locked up all of my sweet any lures (nuts, honey, sugar, etc) in plastic containers. They hit the molasses this year, and I’m wondering if maybe I didn’t have a bottle up there last summer. So that went off to a plastic bin. Then this morning, I had Honey Bunches of Ants. I’m sure it was the granola in this cereal that drove them “nuts”. Now all the cereals are tucked away.

I really don’t want to spray. It’s so hard with the boys around - especially Mr. Busy Body - 21 month old E. He’s a handful with that stuff. Gil and I agreed that when we leave for our little vacation, he will handle figuring out where they are coming in and take care of them - probably do our annual bug bombing, too. It’s about time for that.

In the meantime, I am still finding a smattering of the little black dots across our pantry shelves. They seem more confused now. I wonder if they’ll lower their standards to wheat thins or potato chips or whole wheat bread.

Piecing patchwork isn’t one of my strengths. Even when I strip piece, things just seem to be a little wonky, not quite strait and definitely off. Tonight as I sewed together 3.5 inch, 4-patch blocks (for the novice, that’s 4 squares sewn together to make one bigger square), I was completely disgusted with it. Yuk!

I persevered in sewing the rest of the rows. Tomorrow I will sew them together and then quilt them. By the time my project takes its final shape, it will still be horribly crooked patchwork, but it will not seem as horrible. In the midst of taking its form, it will take on a certain charm about it. People with an untrained eye will oooh and aaahhh about it. And hopefully the recipient will enjoy it. There is much grace in sewing.

I find my life sometimes seems like that patchwork. No matter how hard I try, the blocks just are a little crooked, things don’t seem to line up strait, I just can’t get it right. But when I look at the block in the realm of the big picture, I don’t seem to notice those wonky rows and edges, those pieces that are more rectangle than square. In fact, as the fabric of my life, it looks good. So I stop looking at the little pieces. I make the most of what I can every day, knowing that I’m building a beautiful piece of patchwork.