Ah. The hurry and scurry of the season has passed. You can stop feeding that hungry cash register. It’s enormous stomach was always growling, always chomping at your wallet and chewing your stomach.
Ok. Sit down.
I’m suggesting you buy just one more gift. Continue reading
We went Christmas tree hunting. Well, technically, my husband did the hunting and we just traipsed behind him…WAY behind him. I expected less snow and mud, not that there was that much but I didn’t bring my boots. My steps were more careful.
He found a tree pretty quick. I liked it except for the big hole in the back.
But, it was pretty. And like a magnet he found another tree. He’s good at this. Immediately I decided, “Let’s do the other tree. It’ll work.”
I was done.
“But, it’s only been 20 minutes,” he said. Exactly my point. The perfect Christmas tree in 20 minutes. How much more perfect than that can we get?
But I see how roles were reversed. If it was a shopping trip I would be telling him the same thing (and I have)… but it’s only been 20 minutes!
He continued shopping. I puppy guarded the tree like my husband puppy guards a clothing rack while I shop. You know the motive of looking busy when you’re just plain bored. Yep, I just used the word “bored” with a family tradition. My to-do list was stealing my fun.
Send someone a Jellybean Hailstorm today. It’s so simple to let someone know that you care.
The bag of jelly beans slumps haphazardly on the top shelf. I reach up on my tippy-top toes. It’s about to fall. A simple touch and it all comes cascading down in a rain of jelly beans. It tinkles and clanks all over the shelves and floor like a marble hailstorm on a tin roof.
I groan. Then, I smile a little. What a mess!
My little guy come running in. “What was that?” he asks before figuring it out on his own. He catches me doing the reverse butterfly stroke in the jelly bean puddle. His sense for candy is so fine-tuned it would have been a tragedy to miss the aftermath of the jelly bean hailstorm.
By now my other boys’ sensors have been activated and they are standing in the doorway begging me with tinsel eyes. I only have to give a nod and they dive in. It’s not the first time they’ve disregarded floor germs in the name of candy.
We are all smiles.
A simple touch creates this amazing, unexpected, result (and honestly a little complaining from the mess). But, it’s not the first time a jellybean hailstorm ends up in sunshine. A simple touch created a similar outcome for an incident that happened years and years ago.
Hang a picture today.
I have a confession: I’m a bit of a procrastinator, a perfectionist, and an overthinker. Bad combo, I know. It’s why it took me several years to get pictures on the wall of my first home. I wanted to hang my pictures only once. I didn’t want to leave a little hole if I decided to move it (and yes, I’m fully aware of wall putty…but I’m also a procrastinator). It’s a disease, really.
This disease is why I’ve been only contemplating launching my blog. It’s been well over 5 years. I wanted it to be perfect: no flaws in page-loading , no thinking kinks, no plastered smile on my author picture. Bleh! My posed pictures always look fake. I wanted a masterpiece from the start. Yeah, I know. (You can relax your eyebrows and wipe that smirk off your face.) I didn’t want to leave any little holes. But here’s the problem- contemplation minus action equals life dissatisfaction.
It creates its own ugly hole.