Oh, Lucy, I'm home

After jamming another four bags of green beans and wax beans into the freezer last week, I decided that like it or not, I had to clean out the deep freeze. There was no place else to go with all the produce my garden is producing.

I pulled everything out, clear to the bottom of the chest freezer and when I got to the bottom, I was kind of over whelmed. The containers dated 2010 I could keep or take. What’s two years at twenty degrees Fahrenheit? When I read the number “97” on one of the bags of strawberries, I finally had to admit defeat. Honestly I cleaned out the freezer within the last year or two. The frost wasn’t even built up that much. Where did this stuff come from and why did it keep crawling back into my freezer?

I needed reinforcements. “Honey,” I called up the stairs, “can you come down here.”

The hubby took one look at the mess I had made, at the various plastic freezer boxes and Ziploc baggies and announced, “Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do!”

You’d think I had red hair or something. No, and I’m not blond either. My little Ricky Ricardo is just a pill. But he makes me laugh and lovingly deals with every mess I get in to. He told me in no uncertain terms that anything with a date of 2010 or older had to go, as well as anything with an inch of frost on it. What a guy, huh? I know, I never would have figured that out on my own

This stuff is all good, straight from Sam's Club, within the last six months. 

 I think most of this is good.

 You really think this should all get pitched? But strawberries and blueberries are so good for you. 

. There really ended up being a lot more room than this picture seems to show. Lots of room for beans!

What's my marriage really like?

When I was vacuuming the living room couch last weekend, I once again got mad about all the crumbs under the cushions where my husband sits. Why does he always have to eat in here, I asked myself. Really?

This is what my dining room has looked like for the last few weeks. Do I expect him to eat at this table? I don’t think so. As I have been pushing to finish writing my memoir about my mission trip to Kenya, I have rather taken over an entire room. (I was sewing today and you should see what that room looks like!)

My poor husband. He patiently puts up with so much from me. He is an absolute saint, catering to all of my whims and supporting most of my schemes. (He is never too excited though when I bring home another cat.)

I searched for the perfect Bible passage, but honestly, most days around here are like an old episode of “I Love Lucy”. My husband even walks in the door calling “Luuu-ceee!” And being the faithful wife that I am, I answer “Ricky”. And then slowly, using only innocent white lies, confess my latest escapade. Quite lucky for me, my Ricky never raises his voice or even his finger to me. I am so blessed.

Lord, thank you for sending me the most patient man in the world. Help me to be a better wife to him, more understanding, more hard-working around the house, more patient myself. Grant us many, many more years together. Amen

(Our 14^th wedding anniversary is in two weeks, I probably should have waited until then to post this, but this is what God sent me to write today. If I struggle in being obedient to my husband, I figure I should at least listen to Someone.)