Country Mouse, Here

I really don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Do you?

Lately, well, since 2003, I've really wanted to become a writer.  So I've been scratching around in the archives for pieces to submit.  Not that it was lost, but I found an article I wrote called "Lost And Found."  It's pretty self-centered but while rereading it, I came to understand that God made each one of us with a heart for Him and no two personalites or look-a-likes.  How absolutely cool is that? When this life is over, we're even gonna get a white stone with our name on it and no one will understand the name except the one receiving it.*
Our creator is so creative.

I've heard that to be a writer, you have to write.  Here at Julee's Journal, or Grey Barn Farm Journal, or whatever I feel like calling it, most of the writing is about life. My life. It's a dichotomy for me, because I feel like the only way to walk in this life is to get your mind off of self and onto others.  But to keep this thing updated, I must talk about myself.  So therein lies my angst. Yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blog.

We (the Mr., Grover, Uncle Mark) recently spent a Super week-end with my niece and her husband. We had such a grand time, we didn't even think to take a picture.  So here's one from their wedding this summer.  I tell you, they're still on the honeymoon!

We cooked each other scrumptous meals, we laughed, we cried, we played multiple rounds of monopoly deal, we slept in, we walked their dog, we hunkered down, and we left our shoes by the door, all because that is what families do.

This house, where we watched Chelsea; play with our daughters, the baby kittens, open Christmas gifts and repeated swimming pool escapades.  This land where we took them on walks in strollers, laid pennies on the railroad tracks, and ordered Pizza King too many times to mention, These walls echoed once again with family laughter and medicine.  This family room which used to be strewn with legos, madame alexander dolls, and marbles, remained virtually clean while we scooted our chairs together to watch the big game and offered up prayers of celebration for Chelsea's soulmate and our nephew Derek #35 along with another great-niece baby K #40 in the extended family line-up.

A week-end we won't soon forget.

And then it was off to the city for some serious shopping, a much needed break, and  Francis Chan fuel forthe fire. The train into the city was my first ride on Amtrak.  I KNOW ... can you believe it? Crossing the country on that sucker went straight to the top of my bucket list.  One daughter met me at the 3-sided 4-season train station along side the tracks, another rode the rails from MI and met up within 20 minutes of our train, looking all grown-up and sophisticated. (the first of many times, I shed a few tears during our stay) Then we hiked it down to my sister's friends condo, it only sleeps 4 and 1/2 but it's on MI ave, for crying outloud. There we met up with my sisters, their aunts.  The whole thing orchestrated perfectly, with timed and divine appointments, quickly arranged meetings with a brother/Uncle, and son/nephew. More than one surprise encounter with HS/Chicago/SH friends and daughter/cousin/niece with her 4 grandkids/great neices and nephews.

It was a 3 and 1/2 day soul bender, with a side of mission accomplished. I highly recommend another one, soon.

You in?

And I figured out what I wanna be when I grow up. Me.

“I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.” – Revelation 2:17

*The White Stone