Tag Archives: Life

Wild & Precious Life

Source: etsy.com via Tricia on Pinterest Originary art found here: http://www.etsy.com/listing/93115625/wild-and-precious-life-11×14

So tell me. What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

The clock is ticking and the pages on the calendar are flipping.  What’s your dream – your goal for 2013?

What is it you will do this year?

Everything we do today counts towards where we want to be tomorrow.  Either it moves you closer to your goal or farther away.

Go forward.





rings reflected in water

‘Tis a lesson you should heed,

Try, try again;

If at first you don’t succeed,

Try, try again.

Then your courage should appear,

For, if you will persevere,

You will conquer, never fear;

Try, try again.

~ Author Anonymous

It’s a poem I made my kids memorize when they were nothing more than babies.  Now they use it on me whenever they see me frustrated, failing.

Try, try again they tell me.

Again is the story of my life.  I do it every single day in the big things and the little.

Laundry, dishes, sweeping – those are again and again.

But my life and yours, they are made up of more than ordinary tasks.  They are also the big things – the marriage, the parenting, the squeaking out a living in tough world, the chasing your dream.  These are also agains, because they take constant striving, work.

And then there’s God, the One full of grace, who offers us forgiveness and love and freedom.  He pours these gifts over us again and again, nothing withholding.  He doesn’t begrudge us the chance to try, try again.

Somewhere deep inside I think again may be our lives.


Today I am joining Lisa-Jo Baker and so many others in Five Minute Friday.  You get one word and five minutes to write your thoughts, no editing or over-thinking.  You simply sit down and write.

Today’s word is Again.  If you’d like join us in Five Minute Friday, click one of the links, set a timer, and begin writing.

Happy Friday!

I hope your weekend is filled with the promise of again.

Hello Monday, Hello Family Time

Hello Monday

I like you a lot today, mostly because it’s a “day off” (translate laundry day) and I slept until 10:30 am.  I suppose I should be ashamed to admit that on the internet, but I never claimed to be a morning person.  A snowy holiday morning sounds like the perfect time to sleep in.

Worry not.  My children are fully capable of microwaving a bowl of oatmeal.  Besides, they slept nearly as late as I did.

So on this Monday, I am joining Lisa Leonard in saying Hello!

Hello Kid Cart

My kids are junkers at heart, especially the boy child.

Kid in shopping cart

Yesterday afternoon he came home pushing a shopping cart.  He says it was in a ditch on the side of the road and the store hasn’t been in business in our town for about three years.  There is no other Family Dollar within twenty miles, so he figured this was trash.

Now he’s the boy in a buggy.

On a side note, I know you are jealous of his vintage linoleum.


Hello Game Day

On the weekend, I end up playing games with my kids.  Usually game time happens late Saturday afternoon into the evening, but yesterday all our usual evening activities were cancelled due to wicked winds and snow.

For a few moments I thought the wind may or may not take off our roof and possibly the second floor of our house.  It was just that windy.  I know exactly how the little piggies felt when that big bad wolf was huffing and puffing.

monopoly dice - Game Day

My kids are big Monopoly fans.  I suspect it may be my fault, because I carried the Monopoly bug over from childhood.

penguine hat  Monopoly

Last night we played Wii games.  First I played Nintendo 64 games with my son, but we quickly decided I was game controller challenged and after I crashed my Star Wars jet fighter airplane into a hundred boulders, we thought we’d give bowling a try.  It’s more my speed.

I’ve never been good a good gamer.

Are you a super-cool gaming mama?  I need lessons.

Wii Bowling

Clearly I need bowling lessons too, but I was just warming up.  Although I have no real proof, the next game was strike, strike, strike, strike, gutter ball.

I kept reminding my kids that when I was young, I won a trophy for highest girls series at a bowling tournament.

Yes, I have long history of dorkyness.  This is nothing new.

Hello Blog Design

If you’re reading via email or Google reader, you may not have noticed my new header.  I am, unfortunately, given to whims and I change my header a lot, but only because I am attempting to find one good design that I can keep for more than a month.

After a series of Tweets late the other night, I realized my font and design stunk.  I’m no blog designer, but there are Youtube tutorials on just about anything you want to learn.

When I think about blog design, I think of certain words – clean, creative, welcoming, professional, readable, attractive, happy, etc.

I don’t know if this design allows me to check any of those words off my list, but I know the font is better than before.

Blog design is a lot like my life.  Each little step takes me closer to my goal.  I know I won’t get it right or arrive at my destination by tomorrow, but I will be one step closer to that goal.

It’s all in the experience.

So, honestly, what do you think?

And no worries, I have thick skin.


My Kid’s Loose Lips

If you follow along with The Domestic Fringe on Facebook, you probably saw this status update.

My daughter just got home from school. She half opened the door and yelled (for all the parents waiting at the bus stop in my driveway to hear), “You’re still in your bathrobe!!!
For the record, I am showered, hair done, makeup on, and I’m fully dressed. I was COLD! So I put my robe on to warm up. Sheesh. Some people’s kids.

My kids have a knack for saying the worst things about me.  The minute we get in public, their lips let loose.  My mother probably says the same thing about me.

spider headband - kids

I’d like to say it was worse when they were little, but that’s not true.  When they were really young, all the terrible things they said were made up stories, imaginations run wild.  Now there is a semblance of truth behind what they blab about, making it all the more embarrassing.

When my son was about five years old, he told the pediatrician I fed him squirrel.  The kid was convincing.  I even questioned dinner from the night before.  The doctor looked at me like I had three heads.  I saw little question marks pop into her eyes.  Then my son preceded to tell her an elaborate story of how we caught the squirrels.

I swore I never, ever fed him a squirrel.  Maybe some chicken beyond proper identification, but never squirrel.  I still don’t think she believed me, and how can I blame her.  My son was convincing.

In fact, my husband worried he would grow up to be a conniving little liar.  I was pretty sure this was one of those awkward kid stages, the kind where the lines between imagination and reality blurred, but every once in a while I doubted my judgement.

Thank God he outgrew the stories.  Now he just tells the truth and honestly, sometimes the truth is far worse than the fiction.

I am sure you can relate, because I suppose my kids are not so different from yours.

So do tell.  What have your children said about you?


Odd Meets Absurd

The oddest things happen to me.  I’ve almost stopped questioning the absurd.  That’s why when I was taking my mom’s bags from her trunk this weekend, I took the package of tortilla shells and threw them to the back of the trunk.

“No!  Those go inside too.”

My mother scolded me for the tortillas, but honestly, you would be downright stupefied at the things I’ve found in her car.

Fly Creek Cider Mill - ApplesWhen we finally hauled everything inside, she began unpacking.  She brought some wrapped Christmas presents for the kids, and my daughter put the packages under the tree as grandma pulled them from her super extra-large plastic Kohl’s bag.  My mom stuck her arm far into the dark reaches of the bag and pulled out a remote control.

“Oh, there it is!”  She exclaimed.  “I’ve been looking for that.”

Is there any wonder why I did not question the tortilla shells in the trunk?

I was born into oddity.

Source: Uploaded by user via Tricia on Pinterest

Yesterday after school we ran down to the doctors for allergy shots.  I started thinking about dinner when I was in the waiting room, and realized I needed to stop at the store for mashed potato flakes.

Now before you begin judging me for feeding my family processed potatoes from a box, please understand I had about a twenty minute window to get dinner on the table and eaten before my husband had to get back to work.  He was only coming home from one job long enough to change and eat before he was going out to another job.  And, doctor’s offices frown on you bringing five pounds of potatoes and a peeler to your office visit.

Although I was feeding my family a box of flakes, I was fully prepared to do the responsible thing and throw some green beans on the side.  In my world green beans absolve you from many a processed sin.

My kids and I shuffled in the front door and my daughter headed straight for the kitchen with the bag of flakes.  She screamed “Mouse!”, and I ignored her.

So she yelled again.  This time louder.

By the third time she screamed M-O-U-S-E, she was really starting to get annoyed at me.

“Why aren’t you coming?  I screamed mouse three times.”

How often does a mouse freeze in place when you scream?

They don’t.  They run for their little vermin life – head for the hills, and all that.

Not this mouse.

Source: humortrain.com via Tricia on Pinterest

It froze in place.  I stomped my feet.  I yelled at it.  I poked it with a straw and shewed it in the direction of an escape.

I didn’t want to kill it.  I mean, I most definitely did.  I just didn’t want to have to do it with my bare hands.  You know?

I seriously had no idea what to do with this mouse, but he wasn’t going anywhere.  So we carried on.  Life as usual.  Still he didn’t move.

Finally I got fed up with this mouse and my daughter grabbed a plastic cup and I pushed him in with the dust pan.  I told her to bring him outside, so she starts walking the long way, through the entire house, with a mouse in a cup.

Why is my life so dang weird?

Anyway, this is simply one more edition in the chronicles of my mousey life.

Tonight, when we go to the chorus concert at school, I am setting traps and hoping to kill his family.  I’m sure he’s got a family somewhere in my basement.

Speaking of the chorus concert…one of my children has this holiday event at school tonight, only I forgot to write down which kid.

FringeMan still remembers the time we had to chicken dance our way out of the slow-cooker, so I doubt he’ll forgive me if I bring him to the wrong school.  He’s pretty sure he’s already forgiven me seventy times seven.  He’d probably ask for my head on a silver platter.

That pretty much sums up the last twenty-four hours of my odd life.  If you’ve read this far, bless your heart.  If you come back tomorrow, you may want to get your head checked out.

Just sayin.


Looking A Lot Like Christmas

I feel a little bit bad about making you look at photos of my Christmas tree.  I think it’s a lot like our parents making their friends look at slides of their family vacation.

Come to think of it, I make you look at vacation pictures too.  Oh, well. What’s a few torturous photos between friends?

White Christmas Tree @ The Domestic FringeI wanted a white Christmas tree forever.  Maybe just a little longer than forever.  FringeMan thinks they are odd, like so odd, they are freakish.  He thinks trees should be green.  Go figure.  He’s got no imagination at all.

About 3 years ago, we needed a tree and the white ones were cheapest.  The angels sang Hallelujah and I hauled it home as fast I could.

vintage Christmas tree topper @ The Domestic FringeFor the first few years we didn’t know how to top this tree.  Nothing seemed to fit her personality.  Why, yes, my tree does have a personality.  It’s a little psychotic, but a lot loveable.

Our old tree looked like Phyllis Diller, and when I tried the same look on this white tree, it was her worst hairdo yet; however, I eventually found this lovely vintage glass topper at a yard sale and it’s crowned her white plastic head ever since.

blue glitter Christmas ornament @ The Domestic FringeAre you the kind of person who decorates a color coordinated tree to go with your color coordinated house?

I’m not that person, but for years, I wanted to be.  I even tried to be once, but I just cannot stick to one color, look, or style.  I’m 100% hodgepodge.  I love colors, and glitters, and shapes, and randomness.  I can’t help myself.

clear glass Christmas ornament @ The Domestic Fringepink feather bird Christmas ornament @ The Domestic FringeOk, the hot pink feathered bird is a little wonky, but she has a chubby gold glitter body underneath all those feathers.  At $1.99, I think she is this year’s perfect addition to our tree.

vintage glass Christmas ornament @ The Domestic FringeOur collection is a mixture of vintage glass ornaments and dollar store junk.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

glitter ornaments @ The Domestic FringeSome days I feel like our tree looks like a junk store threw up on it, but somehow, that seems like a good thing.

vintage gold & silver glass ball ornament @ The Domestic Fringewhite peacock ornament @ The Domestic Fringesnowman ornament @ The Domestic FringeI would give you a Christmas tour of my house, but honestly, most of the decorating is on the tree.  We don’t go hog wild crazy and change everything in the house for Christmas.  We just sprinkle holiday cheer instead of gushing it on every flat surface.  Don’t get me wrong, I like gushing, but we are more of a sprinkle and ice-cream kind of family.

plush deer ornament @ The Domestic FringeSnoopy Christmas ornament @ The Domestic FringeEvery year my mother-in-law sends my kids an ornament and they love it.  They dig through the box looking for their special ornaments to hang on the tree.

Then they yell at each other for unwrapping the wrong ornament and a fight ensues, but it’s all glittery and gold in the light of a white tree.

I Love Lucy Ornament @ The Domestic FringeGift Box Ornament Dr. Suess Style @ The Domestic FringeYour eyes aren’t deceiving you.  That’s a bedsheet for a skirt – a little bit tacky, I know.

Glass Candy Ornament @ The Domestic FringeWill you ever find it in your heart to forgive me for so many silly pictures?

Now tell me about your tree.  Do you use ribbons, color schemes, beads, white lights or colored?  Real or artificial??

Linking to Thrifty Chick Decor and Musings of A Housewife. Also linking to Kimberly’s Korner.  Visit to see some gorgeous trees!

Mid-Life Crisis or My Insides Are Ugly

This past week, I was a bit on the ugly side – inside.

I can blame it on a sick kid or cancelled holiday plans or no money to go shopping on Friday (I know, wahhhh.), but the truth is that I was just an ugly, grumpy, negative mess.

I tried to hide it and only feel bad on the inside, but it didn’t work, not a bit.  The ugliness eeked out in things I said, my actions, the look on my long face.

I was in total pity party mode.  The fact that there wasn’t any chocolate at my party made me all the more miserable.

Then my son said I was middle-aged.  My mother told me this before, but I completely ignored her. I figured she just wanted company at the top of the ladder.  When I heard my son say it, I realized that is how everyone younger than me views my age, my life, me – in the middle of it all.

That’s a downright scary place to be.  Just ask a middle child.

I’ve done the whole starting out thing.  I went to college, got a job, got married, bought a house, had a couple of kids, went back to college, bought another house or two, celebrated fifteen years of marriage…the rest is the ordinary day in day out.  The stuff I write about here on my blog.

Is it enough?  Have I done enough, been enough?

I don’t think so.  That’s the problem.  I don’t feel like my life has been worth enough yet.

Cue up mid-life crisis mode.

If you’re a therapist, add me to your contacts.

I reviewed my life in my head, over and over again.  I talked to myself.  It’s the worse thing a person can do.  Some call it self-talking.  It’s what you do to make your blood boil.  Tell yourself all the ways you have failed, all the things you should have done, could have done.

I reminded myself of what a loser I am.  Then I counted all the wasted minutes.

It’s not a good place to be and I know that.  I know every conversation I had in my head was pointless.  No good would come of it.  I know that and yet I did it anyway.  That’s the real definition of stupid.

After I tired of talking to myself, I talked to God.

Actually, I complained.  Like a total whiner.  If I were Him, I would have shoved a sock in my mouth, but unlike us, God is long suffering and full of grace.  I made Him suffer with my rantings.

Every time I saw someone’s list of “Thanks”, I wanted to barf.  It convicted me, and I totally wanted to be justified in my self-loathing.  Honestly, it’s kind of funny to me now, but it was not three days ago.

My heart was black as a starless night.

After I felt like God was getting sick of me, I played shrink with myself.  Let’s face it.  I know all the “right” answers.  I can counsel someone stuck in the rut of stinkin’ thinking, so I turned myself loose on myself.

Ya, I can drone on and on.  Before long, I was sick of both my personalities – the depressed one and the wannabe shrink.

I generally do not get into these funks for more than a few hours, if at all.  It’s not my default mode, but this week I set a new record.  I think I kept up the stinkin’ attitude for 3 or 4 days.  By choice.

The truth is that I am blessed beyond measure.  I have a husband who loves me, two amazing kids, a home, family and friends, and so much more.  My mistake is that I stopped counting my blessings.

Yes, I am over it.  I don’t know if I’m beyond the whole mid-life crisis thing yet, but I’m over the pity party.

After all, I still have half my life left.  Now I better get busy!

Have you had your mid-life crisis yet?