Addict or Fanatic?

 © jb katke

People in my circle may think I’m taking a stab at them. Not so. Confession time has come for me. There are probably more addictions than I can count, some worse than others. I hope mine isn’t as costly and heartbreaking as the few I’ve listed.

Drinking and cigarettes are socially acceptable. Both are life-shortening. Once hooked, it’s tough trying to stop. If you are a smoker trying to quit, don’t give up. Having seen people in their last days of life due to smoking, let me assure you it is not pretty. I have noticed cigarettes are new and improved. Back in the day, it was obvious when a smoker was nearby. There was no denying the scent they emitted.

Drinking is not so lucky, it still smells. It too, is hard to strop. I’ve visited with folks who have been on the receiving end of drinkers turning mean under the influence. Often professionals are called to defend a spouse or children.

Ditto the drug users. The life they destroy is more than just their own.  For families it’s an ache that never goes away; making birthdays and holidays haunted by the MIA relative.

My addiction is watching the home improvement shows on TV. There was a time seeing upgrades I never thought about, made my home seem lacking.  Except for a couple things I won’t bore you with, I’m content. It’s hard to wean yourself off this stuff when your husband has been a remodeler for so many years. He knows how to do just about everything, and nothing pleases him more than pleasing me.

Do you see my point in how our addictions do sift down to those around us?

Sadly, (?) more shows come to my attention. Our DVR is full of them. One noticeable thing; homeowners are over the moon happy with the new renovation. Really? Just once, I’d like to see them at the unveiling of a fixer upper and say, “I hate it, what have you done with my house?”

I wonder if there are that many people needing a home reno, or turn to these professional stars to get on national television? I have noted there are a lot of people with poor taste. Mid-century modern is all the rage;  but not my cup of tea. Do they truly like it or just want what is trending? Inquiring minds need to know.

Looking at my own home, trying to put a label on what I live with. Nothing modern. Some traditional, more than a few antiques, some nicely broke in. Mom called it early attic. Admittedly, my home might take on the look of Grandma’s house, but it’s comfortable, and I am a Grams. One heartbreaking thing; I don’t think the kids will want anything when I move heavenward.

When I get to heaven is gonna be out-of-sight, out-of-mind anyway. I’m thinking that place God is preparing for me is my heart; getting prepped for meeting him. I consider that a renovation that will be divinely perfect. My new place will be peaceful, beautiful, full of warmth, lots of loved ones; and the best part is getting to hang around with our Creator.  

There will be work too. Does that surprise you? It will involve doing what we love, so it won’t feel like ‘work’ and it will be honorable to God.

The Good Book says we well be eating there too/ Right now, cooking is not in my heart. I can only hope a kitchen isn’t in my heavenly home. Let someone with a heart big enough to hold a kitchen have it, I only like to eat. Or maybe my heart renovation will want a kitchen. He does change hearts; I’ll have to wait and see.

From Trash to Treasure

© jb katke

When I was growing up it was called making do, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I’ve since converted.

Many are still staying within the confines of home. Upcycling old pieces has become the rage. The time is ripe for all crafters and do-it-yourselfers to unite.

Never has there been so many TV shows on home improvement. It’s satisfying sitting in the comfort of my home watching houses get torn into shambles and rebuilt into new and improved condition that someone will gladly call home. I love the fact that I’m not the one sweeping up the debris!

It doesn’t stop at homes, either. Old things have the capability of being put to a new use. This picture I share with you comes from my mothers childhood. It was her toybox. The measurements are 20”long x 9.5” tall and 11” deep. That is not very big by todays standard toybox size.

Why so small? Mom never said as much to me, but I venture to guess. Back in the day, children filled their time with useful activities. Gardens needed weeding, or picking the vegetables for dinner. Many homes did not have the advantage of sidewalks or paved driveways, hence, floors needed perpetual sweeping. You get the idea.

Today moms toybox now lives in my quilt room; holding all manner of sewing paraphernalia I most likely will never use. Maybe its time for round two of flushing out unused items. It still amazes me that I don’t miss quilting; when at one time I lived and breathed it.

What pleases me is using the time I used to say I never had enough of for sewing, but now am writing. It satisfies the soul and take comfort I am doing something God initiated. If you have been following me all along, you know; this was never on my bucket list.

An idea is a mental revolution of doing what never was previously thought about. Such as the pie safe my husband Dave made. He probably didn’t know I loved pie safes. We trotted over to the new homes being built outside our door and gathered the wood pallets destined for the trash. The rest is history. You can get a glimpse of it in my A Labor Of Love blog.

A repair man commented on liking my singers. Singers? What is he talking about? Pointing up to the space above our closet were perched two sewing machines, removed from their cabinets. Once they were serviceable necessities in my grandmothers homes, now décor.

Likewise for the vintage hand tools from my grandfathers tool box. Newly attached to a distressed wood backing; complete with a center vice grip displayed as if a letter K for out last name. More décor. I should probably mention grandpa’s tool box as well. It’s built for the ages, weighing in just under twenty pounds empty. It now houses my ribbons, trims, and lace pieces that I won’t live long enough to put to use.

Having these things around me brings a smile. I think back on the people who once used them and how essential the items were to their daily life. Just as I looked upon myself as a quilter, God saw another use in me. One I never dreamed of, but feel a contentment that I am capable of more than I think. With Gods help, of course.