A Letter to May

Slide2 Dear May, Hi. How are you? I see you. It’s still April; but dearest May … could you please go away. I don’t mean to be rude. And I’m not actually saying disappear. I’m just asking you to dial down the stress level that comes when you enter the picture. Is that possible? Listen, I love you. June (freedom from to-do’s) is just around the corner from you. And your name is so happy. Promising something on the other side of saying you, like “May I have another cupcake.” Would you like two? “Why yes I would.” Because, you’re pre-swimsuit. But May, can we just state the obvious? With you comes a certain amount of agony. And I don’t want to just live to get through to the other side of you. I want to enjoy your beautiful weather and linger and savor. But those words don’t normally accompany all that you bring to the table:

Regular… a highlight-REAL

bagel-burn Forget about a Facebook highlight reel. You know, how they (whoever “they” might be) say that social media shows the pristine good. Because, who’s going post a picture of a college reject letter rather than the happy photo of your top pic school’s acceptance with the kid’s name on their scoreboard. I mean really. But truth is, I could since we got one yesterday. I also burned a bagel AGAIN(!), in the toaster. That’s easier to share. But, our house is about as far from highlight reel as you can get. It’s more of a highlight-REAL. Take this morning for example. I snooze my alarm at least five times. My great intentions of getting up early for a few quiet moments to myself so I can put some finishing an article whose deadline was Friday (operative word “was” – my attempt missed the mark so I’m rewriting a

The Perils of Cheating

IMG_5811 Frustrated with my phone, I might have marched into the Apple Store yesterday. My phone has one of the recall batteries. All I really need to do is make an appointment and have the battery replace – for free – since it’s recalled. But, for whatever reason, I just haven’t made and kept the appointment. So I suffer along, ever-wondering if 53% battery life means 53% or if the phone will die in a matter of seconds. I’m living on the edge. Never sure if I will momentarily be completely cut off from civilization as I know it. Alone. Stranded in a carpool line with nothing but my thoughts! But another issue of late compelled me to finally address my phone issues. The phone quit receiving incoming texts. For all I know, the outgoing texts didn’t send either. But who can say? All I know is my complete and utter lack of responsive communication

Missionary Dresser … not for the faint of heart

mission dressing For those who might not know, Jon grew up on the mission field. His parents lived on a tributary of the Amazon River with an indigenous tribe called the Ese Ejas. They became family to each other. So much so, Jon’s oldest sister and her family still live in Bolivia. Mission work is in the Wyma blood. So, when Jon and I met and we realized we were falling in love, one of the first things Jon asked me was, “Do you think you could be a missionary?” I responded with an enthusiastic, whole-hearted affirmation, “Absolutely!” And I leaned into the dreamy adventure of it all. Well, it didn’t take long for Jon to question my response. His doubt might have had something to do with my reaction to a roach in our first little rental home. In my defense, that bug was huge and quite possibly flew. But, Jon just shook his head and laughed as he he killed
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