Month: October 2019

Never on a Sunday!

~ Sandi Staton

I was always told growing up that you don’t work on Sunday’s. You get up, you go to church, you go back home, you eat dinner with the family and sit and twiddle your thumbs all day till time to go back to church that evening. Heaven forbid you mow your grass or wash your car or hang your clothes on the line for the whole world to see. What kind of Christian does that?

But I’m a big girl now. I have the freedom to choose for myself what’s right and wrong. Besides, times have changed; not that God is too old-fashioned, but that I view things differently now that I’m older. Still, those deeply ingrained values of yesterday keep tugging at my heartstrings today.

But we’ve got this renovation thing going on and our house is a wreck and our lives are turned upside down and we’ve been slaving for months and we’re old and worn out and want to get finished before we roll over and die! So yes, we worked on Sunday.

And guess what? The roof didn’t cave in on us and the walls are still standing, and we didn’t fall through the floor. We did need a marriage counselor, though. Hubby yelled at me for burning his hands with the hair dryer while heating the linoleum, and I yelled even louder at him for yelling at me and jerking the hair dryer out of my hand. I stormed off into the bedroom, slammed the door and didn’t come back out till I became human again. But we’re okay now. Hubby’s nose stopped bleeding and I don’t see double anymore.

All jokes aside, pulling up three layers of glued-to-stay down-forever linoleum in our tiny laundry room has been a pain. Number one, hubby’s a big man with PTSD and claustrophobia and thinks he’s gonna die of a heat stroke if he gets too hot.  And the only way to make the job easier and faster was to heat the linoleum with a hair dryer. Number two, I’m just plain crazy and twisted when I get too stressed out.

In all fairness to us both though, we’re not just taking up linoleum and laying new flooring. We had to replace a rotten board due to water damage. We also painted the walls and cabinets and moved the dryer into the dining room. And today we’ll move the kitchen cabinet out so we can finish painting and pulling up linoleum.

Conclusion: I think our Sunday working days are over.

Click on any picture to enlarge or to begin slideshow.

Barely getting started.
Didn’t see that coming!
All fixed, now.
Painting the walls in stages.
Making a little headway.
The hairdryer worked like a charm softening the glue. We cut strips, heated them using the hairdryer and they pealed up rather easily.
I can’t wait to get this tiny room finished. It’s already looking better.

Click on the following links to join us in our house-renovation-journey:
https://sandistatondigitaldesigns.com/2019/05/24/golden-years-where-are-you/
https://sandistatondigitaldesigns.com/2019/07/10/two-old-people-and-a-hand-truck/
https://sandistatondigitaldesigns.com/2019/06/11/blood-sweat-and-tears/
https://sandistatondigitaldesigns.com/2019/10/21/were-getting-there/
https://sandistatondigitaldesigns.com/2019/08/15/look-whats-happening-behind-my-back/

 

From Photos to Abstract Art

~ Sandi Staton

Between renovating the house and trying to stay calm, I create. It makes me happy. It makes me feel alive. It keeps me from going stark raving mad! 

Confusion
Serenity
Flowers on the deck 1
Flowers on the deck 2
Proud Rooster
Great-granddaughter, Abigail
Abigail playing in a puddle
Abigail playing outdoors
Abigail having fun
Silly face
Pepper, our Dachshund Lab mix
Phinehas, our youngest great-grandchild
Phinehas
Gideon, Abigail, and Phinehas
Phinehas and great-grandpa
Phinehas with a roll of toilet paper
Phinehas celebrating his first birthday
Phinehas with his dad, Brandon
Bella, our greyhound mix

 

 

We’re Getting There!

~ Sandi Staton

It seemed so simple. All we had to do is pull up the carpet, install the vinyl plank boards and within a few short weeks we’ll have all new floors and all the furniture, all the odds and ends, all the chaotic, disorganized mess cleaned up and back where it goes. No problem. We got this. A short walk around the block.

Then a ruthless somebody woke me up!

Six long backbreaking, nerve-wracking, feet-stomping, hair-raising months later and we’re still trudging that short walk around the block.

But, we’re closer than we were. We can finally see daylight at the end of the tunnel. Okay, we can see something flickering a hundred miles through the tunnel. Maybe it’s daylight. Maybe it’s just a mirage. Whatever it is, we can see it.
https://sandistatondigitaldesigns.com/2019/07/10/two-old-people-and-a-hand-truck/

Our survival methods:

1. We soon discovered that our bodies aren’t what they used to be so we took breaks. Lots and lots of breaks. Some times hour long breaks. Sometimes day long breaks, other times week-long breaks.

2. I cried a lot, got angry and frustrated a lot. I felt overwhelmed, over tired, over stressed a lot. I felt like giving up and renting a motel room till the stupid floors were finished. I decided to talk to God instead. And, duh, that’s when everything started falling into place. A heavy burden lifted off my shoulders and I can now walk past the mess in every room without screaming bloody murder. It still bothers me, but not like it did.

3. We quit at suppertime. We enjoy eating and watching Netflix together in the den. So that’s when we quit for the day. That is our happy hour together.

4. We take time out to spend with family and friends. That is our playtime together.

5. We’ve learned to take each day as it comes, do what we can, know when it’s time to quit and when to get back at it again.

Today, we are going to do the washroom. It’s tiny, but there’s a lot to do in there. We have to move the washer and dryer and the cabinet (my dad made it for my mother back in 1950 something. I am going to repaint it, change out the hardware and refinish the butcher block top as soon as I can), and pull up the three layers of tile. Oh, and I have to paint the walls, too. FUN! I will paint the cabinets later.

Looking forward to getting this room done.
Move out Cabinet my dad made.
Take up tile.
Move out washer and dryer.
More tile to take up.

 

 

 

 

My Fruity Creations

~ Sandi Staton

SillyFruit16

I’m addicted to digital art. Every day I create. Hour after hour after hour I create. I should be committed.

It’s difficult for me to explain how I come up with my creations because I don’t have any certain method. PaintShop Pro comes with an array of colors and textures and I play around with them till I come up with the look I want. Also, I use other plugins, like Harry’s Filters http://www.thepluginsite.com and flaming pear http://www.flamingpear.com.

As you can tell, I like anything out of the norm. That’s what makes life interesting.


Free for you to use and to share
Click on any picture to enlarge or begin slideshow

 

Jesus Calling

~ Sandi Staton

When I was diagnosed with colon cancer, an elderly friend going through the same fear and uncertainties suggested that I read a devotional Jesus Calling by Sarah Young. That was seven years ago. I read it through every year and discover something new each and every time.

Jesus calls us to trust and believe in Him, to stop trying to figure everything out and fixing everything that is broken. He calls us to lay down our heavy burdens, to lift our drooping shoulders, to pick up our plodding feet and stroll arm in arm down the rugged path with Him. He calls us to sit and chat with Him and cling to His every word like a bright-eyed eager child.

I wish I could say I always jump right up when He calls me, that I never throw in the towel, never sit in a corner crying my eyes out and wishing things were different. I wish I could say I never run away when He calls, that I never pout when life doesn’t go my way, that I never pace the floor wringing my hands in despair.

Yet, in spite of all of my human efforts to be good, He never gives up on me when I’m not. He never shakes His finger in my face, never turns His back, never says I told you so when I run back crying in His arms.

Jesus calling. What a soothing, comforting voice to hear when I’m lost, angry and confused. When voices in my head are yelling and screaming. When my heart is burning with rage. When I feel as worthless as a rag doll tossed in the trash. What joy in knowing that through the darkest, fiercest storm that crashes through my world, He is always there, always grasping my hand, always calling me to press closer to Him where I am forever safe and sound.

Jesus Calling. May I never turn a deaf ear to His tender, pleading voice.

My sheep listen to my voice. I know them, and they follow me (John 10:27).

 

 

The Beginning of the End

~ Sandi Staton

I’m getting scared. I mean, really, really scared. My body is laughing at me, my eyes see things that aren’t there, and my brain plays tricks on me telling me it’s Monday when it’s Sunday or that it’s Monday when it’s Tuesday, making me forget where I put things and if I took one pill or two pills, and if it’s September or October.

Not funny guys!

Hubby and I sit and laugh at each other. Sometimes we cry, too. We’re both frustrated with our decaying bodies and absent-minded brains and wonder what a year from now is going to look like. I fear that some day my son will visit my sunken shell in the nursing home and wonder who that old woman is and what she did with his mother. I fear that his heart will rupture and bleed and I can’t kiss away his pain.

When we enter that brand new world where old people go to die, no one rolls out the red carpet for us to walk on. No one stands at the golden portals handing out pamphlets telling us what to expect. No welcome committee, no happy smiles no pats on the back. Just a big fat royal kick in the butt. A learn as you go, cold and cruel, sink or swim, everyone else’s world keeps spinning but your’s kick in the butt. It’s the beginning of the end and only those of us who are  there can know the grueling struggle it takes to survive in it.

But it’s not all cloudy and rainy. I love not having to get up and go to work every day. I enjoy lounging in my pajamas, cutting up with my husband, and doing nothing all day. I like cleaning when I want to. I like putting things off till tomorrow or the next day or dooms day. I like not having to follow a set of rules that no longer apply to me. I don’t have to dress up, put on a pretty face, paint my nails or even shave my legs if I don’t want to. I’m retired! I’m free! I can still do stuff! I’m happy and well and strong . . . kinda sorta.

So yes, I’ve entered the twilight zone, the beginning of the end of my life here on earth. It’s spooky, it’s scary, it’s clouded with uncertainties. But it is what it is. I can’t do a darned thing to change it. I can either dry up and blow away or I can continue to live until God calls me home. I can be scared to death or I can trust God. I can cry and moan and groan or I can praise God and thank Him for the blessings He has provided and continues providing every single day of my dwindling life.

I can’t do this without Him. I won’t do this without Him. It’s just too freaking dark and lonely and scary.

 

 

 

 

 

How Many More Sundown’s is it Going to Take?!

~ Sandi Staton

Five months. One trillion hours of blood, sweat, and tears. Two million nervous breakdowns. And we’re not finished yet!

I WANT A NEW HOUSE! A house that never falls apart, a house that is gentle and kind to old people, a house that doesn’t suck my blood till I’m dead!

Five months ago, we began stripping up carpet and laying vinyl plank flooring. Got three more rooms to go. Hey! We’re retired. We’re not punching a time-clock. Besides, my compulsive madness gets in the way of progress, which, hubby doesn’t mind except for when it involves more work for him. And it always involves more work for him. Sorry, hubby.

Three weeks ago, I stripped and painted my kitchen cabinets. Took me a week to complete. All hubby has to do now is hang the doors.

Piece of cake.

Nope!

Nothing is ever that simple for the man of our house! He’s been working on those doors all week long and ain’t got them hung yet. Who knew that installing new handles and hidden hinges would take longer than building a house?? 

Today. Before the sun goes down and the world goes to sleep, those cabinet doors better be hung!

I posted the above on Facebook three sundown’s ago, and I’m still waiting to see the end results.

The next time, which there will NEVER be a next time, we’ll install new kitchen cabinets. That would be a lot less stressful and a whole lot less time-consuming.

PROBLEM:
1. We’re old
2. Didn’t know what we were doing
3. Bought the wrong type of hidden hinges for our cabinets
4. Exchanged them for a different type
5. They didn’t work, either

SOLUTION:
1. Nailed blocks inside the cabinets
2. Re-aligned the doors. Again. And again
IMG_1210
Today. Before sundown. I WANT THOSE DOORS
HUNG!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jesus Loves Me, This I Know . . .

~ Sandi Staton

I was weaned on hymns and Jesus loves me songs. I believed that God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit were all three in one. I believed that Jesus was born and lived and died on the cross to save me from all my wretched sins. With every breath I believed in God’s love, but my battered, bleeding soul couldn’t grasp it.

For many, gut-wrenching years my God-relationship went something like this: Jesus was my best friend. The Holy Spirit was a floating ghost. God was a mighty giant somewhere high above and looking down with glaring, scornful eyes. Oh, and His arms were always crossed and his foot tapping beneath His long, flowing white robe.

In my mind, heart and soul, God was anything but love. I couldn’t get close to Him no matter how hard I tried, so I quit trying. I just stumbled through life with Jesus somewhere near, the Holy Spirit floating far behind, and God looking way down shaking His head with absolute disgust.

But a constant, nagging, desire to know God, that mysterious giant in the clouds, flickered in my heart, guiding me toward the truth about myself, about my shattered past, about God and His unconditional love for the seemingly most undeserving ragamuffin on the planet.

I could tell you about the dark, lonely, twisted path I followed that led me straight into God’s, outstretched arms. I could tell you how I trembled and sobbed there, how He cleansed and clothed my filthy, naked heart, how I never ever felt such warmth and love and forgiveness. But if you truly want to know God you must doggedly follow the crumbs scattered along your own dark and twisted path. You must see His outstretched arms through your own tear filled eyes. You must feel His love and forgiveness with your own sobbing, broken heart.

Then you will know.

Then you will never question His love again. He will never seem a million miles away again. He will be the father the mother the brother the sister; everything you searched and longed for your whole life but never found. Then you’ll have only dipped one little toe into the vastness of God’s love, His mercy and forgiveness. Try with every fiber of your God-created being, and you’ll never understand it. You’ll never be able to explain it. You’ll just know!