Even Smaller Tragedy

A Chinese gnat was caught in the latex of my painting glove. It did not survive. A moment, please... Thank you.

Painted

I stink.

My hair is frizzy.

My hands are covered in various residues.

I may still have traces of paint on my eyelashes.

I know I do on my cheek.

The strawberries are not cut up.

The salads are not finished nor put away.

The laundry lies damp and wet in its respective machines.

I have not packed.

And at this rate, instead of reading luxuriously on Justin's work's yacht tomorrow (while he works, poor sleep-deprived guy), I'll probably be dozing. And embarrassing myself by my head rolling around my shoulders and finally settling in awkward positions that will make my neck hurt when I wake up.

I fought the bathroom and the--bathroom won. I fought the bathroom and the--bathroom won...

Well, no, those aren't the right words. Think, Liz, think!! Aha. We are fighting the bathroom, and it's a draw... we are fighting the bathroom, and it's a draw.

P.S. Come on girls, where are you?! I'm embarrassing myself out here by myself!

Night night.

Small Tragedy

The other day I was writing on my grocery list (it's a notepad magnetically hanging on the refrigerator), when I realized I was being watched by a small spider sitting on the top--on the binding--of the list. To see him so close to my hand surprised me greatly. He and I decided that we both wanted to be left alone, and he was cute (those little jumping black fuzzy ones that sometimes have dots. This one had a red-orange abdomen area instead of having spots, but that's beside the point), so we parted ways. I may have seen him later somewhere in the skylight or something.

Anyway, I just came upstairs from my surprise of this morning, cleaning up a glass bottle I knocked onto the concrete floor, and I saw a little shrunken black fuzzy pile of a corpse on the kitchen floor, directly under the skylight. A quick examination confirmed that this was the same type of spider as was resting on my grocery list the other day. I assume it was in fact the same spider.

A touch of sadness fell over me as I remembered our last encounter. I looked upward to see from whence he might have fallen, and I saw another small spider (not the same friendly fuzzy type but a leggier kind) dangling from a strand in the skylight. It seemed suspicious to me that this smaller spider made his appearance upon the death of the fuzzy spider... but that's just me jumping to conclusions. Maybe he was trying to see if he was all right. Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment and this space to tell the small tragic tale of the fuzzy spider. A moment please, in honor of this individual? ... Thank you.

Godly Teen

So, at church on Sunday, we were having open prayer time. And a teenage boy began to pray. The focus of his prayer was with the people of Haiti and the Dominican Republic during the continued aftermath of the earthquake. And with the people of Poland, who recently lost their president in a plane crash. With the negativity surrounding teens in our culture, it is nice to see the low expectations shattered by this mature, thoughtful young man with a heart for God and others.

Machine Wash Cold, Delicate Cycle

I have great respect for my laundry. In spirit, at least, if not always in actuality. It is because of this respect that I would not, for example, wash my down blanket (a gift from my parents) in hot water and dry it on high. No matter what the health benefits of doing so may be.

Lately, my laundry and I, in fact, my house and I, wait no--my sanity and I, have faced some challenges. Wait, let me say this correctly--my husband and I, our respective sanities, and our home and laundry--have faced some challenges.

The most recent challenge has been fleas. Did you know (and I quote roughly from memory) that 10 mama fleas, over 30 days, with just the right conditions, can multiply to over a quarter million fleas? A quarter million fleas. Did you know that (and I again quote roughly from memory) that a flea pupa (please don't ask me to describe that further) can apparently go dormant and survive for 8 months? Did you know that flea larvae and pupae do not need regular blood to continue living? No, they can survive happily for a long time on dead skin, other organic matter, and (sorry) the dried-blood poo of their parents. Think about the implications of that for a moment.

What that means is that now that Justin and I went to the SPCA, now that we unknowingly brought home a few fleas that promptly found our cat, now that we learn that their life span and reproductive abilities are almost supernatural--we must clean and clean and clean. You see, (and I quote roughly from memory), "a cat with fleas is like a salt shaker walking around the house, dropping eggs."

Great. A salt shaker is walking around my house, depositing flea eggs, which will turn into pupae that defy reasonable expectation in their ability to survive for 8 months.

Which brings me back to the title. I do not want to wash my down blanket. I also do not want it to house flea eggs. I already have to wash and vacuum and rewash and revacuum practically everything else in the house, because of the chance that an egg may have fallen onto it from the cat (who is now contained, in case you're wondering). Oh, and I ought to do this daily "for one to two weeks" to be sure they're gone. (That's just because we caught them early--I suppose it might be longer under other circumstances.)

Which again brings me back to the title. I would like to have a tag on me that says "Machine Wash [Warm], Delicate Cycle [Only]." I am delicate. I do not like hardship or frustration or too much work at a time (or work at all, come to think of it). I hate fleas and other parasites. Dang it, I don't even like normal bugs that much! And of late in addition to the fleas, we have had ants all over and wasps coming in; did I mention that? And yesterday besides beginning the epic flea removal drama, did I mention that my automatic car window ceased its function? It's supposed to rain tonight, and the window will not budge, and the part will not come in for "three to four days." And quite honestly, I hadn't planned on deep cleaning my house OR needing my husband to repair my car window this week--I'd imagined painting the bathroom, since that was a legitimate project we had planned for this month when we have fewer responsibilities than normal.

Ugh. Lord, I know in my head that You have a plan for this, but I'm not doing so well praising You and being thankful through the frustrations. Help, please! And please help me have energy to vacuum the whole house again today. Thank You. In Jesus' name I pray...