Tidying Up

Our home is where our heart rests no matter where we venture to. And when that home is a disaster, you can bet coming home is a bit of a heartache.

For the last couple of months, our home was a mess. There were gifts lining the couch from the shower, clean laundry piled high waiting for a drawer to be available, boxes of decorations and items for the wedding littered the living room, and our son’s bedroom had slowly slipped beneath the radar and was filing up fast with junk.

After we returned home from Costa Rica, we knew we needed to do some heavy duty cleaning. So we worked together, unboxed everything, washed all the old dishes and carted them off to Good Will, organized the kitchen to within an inch of its life, and cleaned out the refrigerator. That was only the kitchen.

Soon the living room followed with a new coffee table to replace the broken one we currently were using, wrapping up cords that squirmed around the entertainment center, and vacuuming the carpet more than once. New pictures went up on the walls and everything was clean and orderly.

It felt good to have an old space look new!
 photo null_zps17fc62bd.jpg

It felt so good that I took to my internet hangouts (Facebook, Friendfeed, Twitter, WordPress) and decided to do a virtual cleaning of my own. I whittled down my followers. I deleted old, unused accounts from sites I rarely ever visit any more. I trashed a few draft posts I never finished and released a few older posts that were at one time private. I adjusted my name on a few sites to now reflect my married name.

I swept and cleaned every little virtual corner and in the end, felt a certain level of peace come over me. I was letting go.

I was moving on and accepting this new life. Change is tough no matter how great it is but it’s worth all of the pain in the end.

We now have a clean kitchen and I’m finding myself in it more, cooking and baking and trying new recipes like…
 photo adaa173e-1af5-4610-850d-ac3e6fbf883c_zpsd238ccb9.jpgBacon Wrapped Chicken Kabobs

 photo null_zps4e7b3176.jpg

Fourth of July Pancakes

 photo null_zps8543ede0.jpg

Apple Cinnamon Muffins

Even our son is becoming interested in learning to cook. We started with something simple, scrambled eggs.
 photo null_zps3cf326ba.jpg
Nowadays I feel relieved to be home at the end of the day or after a good workout instead of stressed and uncomfortable in my space. And it’s also something we work on together, as a family. We help each other fold the laundry and wash the dishes. We load the dishwasher together and help fill the laundry basket when the dryer is done. Together we made this space ours.

As a family, we made it our home again.


Heart’s A Mess

I’m a music junkie.

I need a fix quite regularly and I have a few favorites I can fall back on.

After awhile, though, my regulars aren’t cutting it and I need something new, something fresh.

Like an itch I can’t scratch, I search for something to feed my hunger, to please my ears and soothe the need for something different.

Through an unexpected trail of events, I’ve found Gotye, an artist with a haunting and beautiful sound. It’s now my new drug.

I can’t seem to stop listening to Heart’s A Mess. The odd melody sticking with me all day as I hum and sway to the jolting rhythms and the haunting lyrics of a heart closed to love.

We’ve all known one who is afraid to love and be loved. And some of us can even related to being the one closed off. Of throwing away the key and not letting anyone in.

Of hoping the pain of a love lost will fade with time by shutting out those who really want to know you, really want to get under your skin and be there for you.

Someone desperate to connect…

Heart’s A Mess by Gotye

Pick apart
The pieces of your heart
And let me peer inside
Let me in
Where only your thoughts have been
Let me occupy your mind
As you do mine

Your heart’s a mess
You won’t admit to it
It makes no sense
But I’m desperate to connect
And you, you can’t live like this

You have lost
(Too much love)
To fear, doubt and distrust
(It’s not enough)
You just threw away the key
(To your heart)

You don’t get burned
(’Cause nothing gets through)
It makes it easier
(Easier on you)
But that much more difficult for me
To make you see…

Love ain’t fair
So there you are
My love

Your heart’s a mess
You won’t admit to it
It makes no sense
But I’m desperate to connect
And you, you can’t live like this

Your heart’s a mess
You won’t admit to it
It makes no sense
But I’m desperate to connect
And you, you can’t live like this

Love ain’t safe
You won’t get hurt if you stay chaste
So you can wait
But I won’t waste my love

Dreaming Away

Each night it’s something new. Marriage. Lust. Jealousy. Flying.


Playing pool in a dingy, seedy bar.

Running and running but never getting far enough away to feel safe.

His face over and over again.

I wake sometimes with a headache, feeling lethargic and drained. Other times I wake suddenly, a film of sweat covering my limbs and clinging to the back of my neck, my hair curling from the moisture.

I’ve yet to wake up feeling completely and utterly peaceful, happy with the visions roaming my mind as I close my eyes to rest. Instead I toss and turn, fighting with some inner conflict that isn’t being resolved during my waking hours.

My heart is at war with my mind and my sleep is suffering from it.

Maybe my heart is working through what my mind already understands. Maybe my mind is trying to convince my heart of what is best. Or maybe the bonds and love built between two people can pierce through those sleeping minds, showing them what they had and what they really want.

I need clarity and peace.

I need a night of rest without anymore dreams.

I need sleep.


I don’t like to bury my feelings. I live with my heart on my sleeve and with every emotion at hand. This is me. It’s who I am, take it or leave it.

When I’m in love, the world is bright and beautiful and all that I see is perfect. When I hurt, I feel the range of emotions associated with an injury from rage to regret and despair.

When times are bad I cope with it by distracting myself. Finding something to do, something to sink into so that I can put everything I’m feeling into it.

A place to send my mind so that I stop myself from traveling down the path of unanswered questions. A project to busy my hands and thoughts. To keep me from thinking the what ifs and to keep me from feeling any regrets.

I find myself falling into the words on a page and living in the reality between the covers of the books on my shelf. Music fills the air in my home and private concerts are imagined in my living room.

Sweat pours from me, expelling the pain and anger as I push my muscles to exhaustion. I run until my legs wobble and I am no longer able to tell the difference between the salty drops of sweat and the trails of tears racing down my face.

And just when I’ve distracted myself enough to think that everything is good and I’m happy again, a song will play and the voice of my child will ring out, reminding me that this was a friend’s song and that he remembered hearing it for the first time as we watched a movie together, all three of us.


As he remembers happily this memory, my heart surges with the feelings that surface along with what I worked so hard to force to the back of my mind. To distract myself from. And as the vocals swirl around my head and I hear his little voice sing the chorus in all his beautiful pureness, I close my eyes and send up a moment of thanks for the beauty that we had.

I can’t be angry forever at the things I can’t control. At the twists and turns my life has taken. At the future that has not even happened yet.

All that is asked of me is to do my best today.

And so I will.