15 Minutes of Happy

Welcome to 31 Days of Being Happy!*  Doesn't it just bring a smile to your face?

Actually, no.  It doesn't.  I struggle with depression and anxiety and being an introvert and way too much busy.  It makes for a bad combo of not-happy.  The thought of trying to be happy every day for an entire month is honestly scary and overwhelming.  The Lord wants us to be happy.  That's one reason He sent us here, after all.  We learn and grow and become better... and happier.  And as hard as it is sometimes, I can manage to be happy for 15 minutes.  

So no thinking about the entire month.  Join me in a search for happy, 15 minutes at a time.  That's it.  I can do this.  I think.  At least that's what I thought when I was thinking about it.

I'm linking up with The Nester and oh, about a million other writers to do her annual 31 Days series.  Anita Knapp is listed in the "Inspiration and Faith" category, and I think we're at about #280.  Glad to be included!

Day 1 - Count Happy
Day 2 - Find the Happy Face
Day 3 - Find the Happy in My Face
Day 4 - More Mirror Happy
Day 5 - Find the Happy in Me

Day 7 - Dealing With Depression
Day 8 - You Are More Than Your Depression
Day 9 - Never Lose Hope
Day 10 - Take a Break
Day 11 - Don't You Quit
Day 12 - Repair Work

Day 14 - Feel Vindicated
Day 15 - Find Good Things
Day 16 - Be Happy in Helping
Day 17 - Be Happy Through the Rain
Day 18 - Love My Dad
Day 19 - Write Your Stories

Day 21 - We've Been Hit!
Day 22 - A Scout Is
Day 23 - Dressing the Part
Day 24 - Grin Like You Mean It
Day 25 - Be Patient
Day 26 - Be Patient With Yourself

Day 28 - Laugh
Day 29 - Settle and Un-Busy-Fy
Day 30 - Read Something Happy
Day 31 - Dress Up

* I won't be posting on Sundays, so it will end up more like 27 days, but that's close enough, right?  Thanks for reading along!

Bike Fail

The boys had a bike ride today.  Actually, it was a biking/camping excursion.  They were supposed to bike 17 miles up the canyon, camp out and have a rootin-tootin good old boy time, and then ride back.  It was a father-son event as well.  So much the better.

Ben told me about it first - a week ago.  Chris seconded the motion when it was brought up at dinnertime.  David said he had a flyer about it, but couldn't find it.  It didn't get any more details about the campout until 3:30 this afternoon.  They were to meet at 4:45 and take off.

We hurriedly looked over our compilation of old, hand-me-down bikes, bikes bought at garage sales, and thrift-store bikes.  They were all "special," and a "good deal."  I want my boys to have bikes because I have this dream of going on family bike rides.  We used to... ten years ago or so.  And I wanna do it again.

And I guess those old bikes aren't all that much of a great deal now.  Ben's bike doesn't work.  Chris's bike doesn't work.  David grabbed his bike and started out, but only made it a couple of miles before I got a call to come pick him up... him and his bike.

I'm thinking of collecting all our "special" bikes and doing something special with them.  Something like this.

And then maybe we ought to get some new ones.

Weather Change

No drive.

No motivation.

No oomph.

All I want to do is wrap up in a fuzzy sweater and watch a movie.  Or read a book.  Or just sit in front of the fireplace.  Alas.  I don't own a fuzzy sweater.  And I don't have the mental reserve to start a movie when I know I'll have to clean up the messes that were made while I was an absentee parent.  And I don't have any novels I'm wanting to read right now.  And the fireplace has been shut down due to a gas leak.

Guess I'll just read the newspaper online, and then do my housework.  Or not.  Maybe I'll just sit.

Must be a change in the weather.  It just makes me feel antsy and blah all at the same time.

Learning About Eggs

We have eggs.  Baby eggs and medium eggs and a few whoppers with double yolks.  As I understand it, new laying hens take a little while for the systems to start working properly, and regularly.

I also learned that we have a chicken that lays blue eggs.  And that the brown on brown eggs is only on the outside.  It's white on the inside, just like the (bleached!) eggs you get at the store.  Fresh eggs are tougher than store eggs, so we sometimes make a bit of a mess cracking them open.  On the other hand, when the twins bring in an egg and accidentally drop it, the shell cracks.  But it doesn't always break all the way through.  Good thing, because they love bringing in eggs.  Oh the excitement!  Checking for eggs is the high point of Angel's day, and she'll go skipping off to the coop with a basket over her arm.  I did not know that gathering eggs would be so fun for them.

And I have learned that fresh eggs do not need to be refrigerated.  We keep them in a basket on the counter.  Eggs on the counter, however, tend to get cooked up faster for breakfast than if they are hiding in the fridge.

Right now, this basket is empty.  But we'll be getting more tomorrow!  We like fresh eggs.

Fixing The Blue Jean Gap

Nope.  Not talking about the store.  I'm talking about the breeze that blows down my back whenever I so much as lean forward in a pair of jeans.  And if I bend over, it's downright chilly.  When I sit, I have to be careful that that anyone behind me doesn't get an unintentional view.  And then when I stand back up, I have to hike up the front of the jeans, since the gap magically crept around and wiggled my belly up further than the jeans were.  And at the end of the day, I have saggy butt because those same old jeans now ride lower on my hips than they's supposed to.  You know the gap I'm talking about now?

It happens when your waist is thinner, or your booty is bigger or your thighs are wider than "they" think they should be, because "they" don't make nice jeans for your shape.  That's why, when I went jeans shopping for my birthday, I bought two dresses instead.  And man, I have loved those dresses this summer.  Lived in them.

But now, the nip of fall is in the air, and easy breezy skirty is a bit too chilly.  So I put on the jeans, and remember about the drafty back.

Fortunately, for me and other afflicted women the world over, I have, just now, discovered the fix.  It's not this:

or this:

Although I suppose both would work.  No, my solution, although it takes a bit longer, is much more pleasant.

It involves a box of ice cream, two pizzas, a Costco bag of trail mix, and three packages of cookies.  Eat slowly and enjoy.  Or scarf it all down.  Whatever.  Just wipe your mouth when you are done.  Oh, and sit around a lot.  No exercising needed.  When you are done, your new and improved muffin top will fill out those jeans perfectly!  No more back gap.

You're welcome.

Monday Missives

It's a little harder to write a weekly wrap-up from Alec's letters because there haven't been any letters.  It's not that he's a bad son, really.  It's just that this training is a little more laid-back than basic training was, and he gets to call home.  In the evenings.  Whenever he wants to.  Oh, I love hearing his voice.  And I love being able to hold a conversation with him, instead of asking a question and waiting a week or two for the answer.

The downside to this is that he usually calls when I am crazy trying to make dinner.  Not to self:  be less crazy during dinner-making time, which you should be anyway, and a phone call won't be a problem.  And also that after I get off the phone I don't remember as much of what we said.  And sometimes it's hard to hear what he is saying so we do a lot of "what?" and "say that again" which I'm sure gets very annoying.

Anywho...

He's settling into his new place quite well.  He was chosen to be a leader of his platoon.  I think it's called a PG.  Or a GP.  Patrol Goon?  Maybe Patrol Guard.  That sounds about right.  He does have an aptitude for leadership, and I would imagine that the sergeants, having done this so many times, are pretty quick to pick that up.  So my boy is the boss.  Which could be good, except that he hated it.  He and his fellow PG - a gal who can't shout - would get the orders from the sergeants and relay them to their platoon.  But no one listened.  They have 60-plus soldiers to keep in line, and it wasn't working for them.  He was very frustrated about it, to the point of trying to figure out how to get out of the leadership position without outright quitting.  But it worked out (I think a dressing-down from the sergeants did the trick) and everything is peachy again.

He's learning how to be a quartermaster.  Read: cook.  He's enlisted in the National Guard, and this was the job in his unit with the shortest training time.  You can always do more training and change jobs later.  Besides, he doesn't mind cooking.  And I'm ok with that.  He's done a bunch of class work, as well as hands-on in the kitchen.  They like cleaning up at the end of the day (eating whatever they made.).  The other day, it was meatloaf.  He said it makes the dinner time better, to have already eaten and then get to eat more.  They also learned how to use knives.  I'm imagining something like this scene:  

Yeah, I'm sure he will be awesome like that.

Homemade Laundry Detergent

I made laundry detergent today.  By myself.  At home.  I feel so green!

I used the directions from this website, and it was just as easy as she said it would be.  I can handle a recipe with only four ingredients: a bar of soap, washing soda (which was something new, but wasn't too hard to find), borax (I usually have this on hand anyway), and water.  I bought the washing soda a while ago.  It may have even been more than a year ago.

I decided that today would be a great time to try something new.  I finished bottling peaches yesterday, and my kitchen was newly clean.  Besides, I needed to do laundry and I was out of detergent.  Like, I really needed to do laundry.  We've been having some potty accidents lately.  A little one wet the bed last night.  And we were out of toddler underwear.  O.U.T.  Out enough that I had two kids running commando today.  I really needed to do laundry.

So I grated the soap and simmered everything until smooth.  I even put in some citrus-y essential oil to make it smell nice.  Poured it into bottles and it makes a nice gel.  Then I loaded the less-than-lovely bedding into the washing machine... and found an old bottle of laundry soap hiding in the cabinet.

So I haven't tried it out yet, but at least the little ones have clean things to wear again.  I'll let you know how it works as soon as the old bottle of detergent is done.