Thoughts on spring break are up on WORLD Online. I should amend them, though. Craig is not feeling well, so we came home yesterday in the midst of chaos.
All those people who told me that dust would be everywhere – and they meant everywhere – they were right. Dust is everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
Dave the bookshelf guy has now become Dave the ceiling fixer guy. He told us we officially have more dust than any he has ever seen. It could be because someone in the past decided a good way to fix the ceiling would be to plaster it and then drywall it. So instead of one round of mess we have twice the fun.
That’s what this house has been every since we moved in. Twice the fun.
Probably not going to be able to paint this week because it will take three days for the ceiling project to wrap. And then Craig has to go back to school on Monday. We all do, for that matter. It should be fun doing school here. All the furniture is crammed into the dining room and completely covered in dust.
Anyone want to join us for dinner?
=====
For as long as I can remember, I have lived on a school-year calendar: The bulk of the work takes place September-May, with a long summer break from June to August, a two-week Christmas break in December, and a week off sometime in the spring.
Now that I’m in charge of the school-year calendar, I continue to fall into that same routine. Part of it is out of functionality—my husband, Craig, is a school teacher, so it makes sense for all of us to take time off when he does–but part of it is out of sheer necessity, as this homeschooing mama needs a break.
This week, as we are on said spring break, I took my girls to Oklahoma to visit my parents for a few days while Craig plays Bob the Builder on a renovation project at home. I brought nothing to do, and part of me is going insane having nothing to do. The other part of me, however, is slowly—very slowly—starting to relax a bit . . . and that’s what I need right now.
My problem is that I don’t rest when I should and can’t turn my brain off to get a decent night’s sleep. When I can’t sleep, I think of Psalm 127:2: “. . . for he grants sleep to those he loves.” Uh-oh.
Now don’t worry: I know better. I’m not sleeping not because God doesn’t love me; I’m not sleeping because I don’t know how to enjoy his good gift of rest. Perhaps if I were to more faithfully submit to God’s (and my husband’s) call to weekly Sabbaths, these longer breaks would be the blessings they’re meant to be instead of the burdens I sometimes feel they are.
When I’ve rested as I should, I’m usually ready to return to the work to which I’m called. I know that is true for this week, and I think it would be true for every week . . . if only I would rest as I should.
How about you? Do you take a proper weekly Sabbath rest? What’s your philosophy on taking breaks from the school-year calendar/mentality?
Sorry about your ceiling woes. Sounds like a royal pain in the caboose. I mean–sounds like fun! Lots of fun!
We’ve had nothing but fun(!) with our house over the past 6+ years, too. So much fun(!) that when we rented The Money Pit a year ago, remembering how funny it was in our pre-homeowning days, we couldn’t finish it. Turns out it’s not as funny when you’re living in a money pit of your own.
LikeLike
I won’t turn down a dinner invite.
I’ll pretend like the fine white powder on my spaghetti is parmesan. I won’t mention it looks like ceiling dust.
I hope you have everything put back together soon and that you will be spared from more house-headache for a very, very long time.
LikeLike
I alwaysALWAYS say that a dinner cooked at another’s house is an excellent dinner! 🙂 That said, I sure wish I could invite you over to mine for a respite from dust.
(uh, well, we DO have dust, but thankfully, we aren’t measuring it in inches…)
Blessings!
LikeLike
Hey! I have a fun idea. Just imagine that you live in some exotic place like, oh maybe Oman. Pretend that you just had a dust storm and that you have these every week. Oh, and then you can be grateful for the maid that comes three times a week to clean up the sand which is really like baby powder. Oh yea, and be happy that you only have to pay her $3.50 an hour. I know that is a LOT of pretending, but its just an idea……
I used to dust off my coffee pot EVERY morning – you wouldn’t believe the dust there….
LikeLike
Sure, I’d love to come to dinner. Yes we too have been down the house-owning blues. Ugh! I hope that everything gets fixed (and cleaned) very soon!
LikeLike