I love to go to antique stores, flea markets, goodwills and garage sales.  I rarely buy anything.  I just love to look and touch things.  The best of all is when I see something that triggers a memory. The other day I was at a little junk shop in a small town ran by two old ladies.  One of whom was embroidering flowers on a table cloth.  I slowly strolled the isles.  I came across a table with glass jars, old towels and other odds and ends.  Nothing really struck me except for the smell. 

It smelled like my Grandma Oney's kitchen.  I closed my eyes and breathed it in.  I was at her kitchen table.  Eating cereal.  Grandpa was telling me to scrape the cereal off the sides of the bowl into the milk.  Grandma was digging in the refrigerator that was always absolutely packed, swearing under her breath.  I was sitting on my legs because I was afraid one of the cats would brush up against me.
  
Then it was gone.  

I moved on. 

I found this.




I smiled.  When I was little I had a box just like this one that held all my crayons.  It never dawned on me that it was a cigar box. Where did I even get this? No one in my family smoked. All i knew is that this bright and colorful box held my crayons.  

Hello King Edward!  



There was two of them and I bought them both.  I have no idea what I will use them for.  Craft supplies?  Odds and Ends?  Cigars? 

Joking.
 
Actually I can't imagine anything in them except for crayons. 

In another booth I found some old blocks like the ones at the begining of the post.  They were in pretty bad shape.  Most were colored on and looked like a dog had chewed them. They were a buck a piece.  All the good letters were gone.  But I knew I had to have some.  So I looked on ebay and found a complete set with numbers for twelve bucks.  Sold! 








There is never enough "E"'s. 




I love the search and the surprises I find sometimes. 
I guess it is true that one persons trash may be another persons treasure. 
Even if sometimes the treasures aren't something I can buy. 
I feel them instead. 

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I had another post planned.  But it just seems wrong to talk about anything other then what happened today. 

My heart aches.  My head is heavy with sadnesss.  And I know that's not the depression.  It's real. 

I've wrote and rewrote this post about five times now.  The words never seem right.

 Tonight I hugged both my kids tight.  I told them I loved them.  I kissed my husband.  Alot. 

I hope that one day soon I will be better.  So that I never take a single moment for granted in my life again.  Because in one second, everything can be gone. 

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 Today Keith and I  drove about a hour to check out a camp site in Iowa.   We have a pop up camper and are anxious to use it.

 The weather has been so crappy here.  The trees are still leaveless.  But if I close my eyes...I could tell that this place will be beautiful in the summer. 


But even if it's not, I've decided it's not really where you are that makes a camping trip a success. 
It's who you are with. 

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I wish I could describe what depression feels like.  Maybe some people would understand it better.  I keep scouring the internet for a quote or description that adequetly describes the torment that it brings.
I found this....




But then I saw this....



I felt a little weepy.  Because right now....compliments feel like a dagger in my heart.  They make me cringe.  I don't feel worthy of them.  Or I think the person is lying. I hope one day, I will believe nice words about me. 

The picture at the top of my post.... I stopped in the middle of the road and took it with my phone.  When I saw that tree, the foggy road, it reminded me of how I feel. That dark tree with it's ugly branches just waiting to ruin my day.  My life. To snatch hold of me and squeeze the life out of me.  And the air..  It's foggy and cloudy and sometimes its hard to breathe because it's so thick.

But I also saw some light.  Not so far away. In the sky.  That's my hope.  The tree will always be there.  But maybe it's clutches won't be as tight.  And I'll be able to speed past it.  And the road will be clear.  Maybe then I'll believe in nice words.  I'll accept them as truth.

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****Remember last Saturday.  It was a good day.

Before the weather turned to crap (again), we went riding last Saturday. 

How many toys can my husband stuff on his truck? 

Apparently alot! 

I like to ride but it's even funner (funner?) to watch my boys and husband ride.  I love it because THEY love it. 





My poor Micah didn't get to ride for very long.  His throttle toasted out on him. So we hung out in the parking lot and waited for Keith and Darren to get done.  He took a nap on my four wheeler.  Just kidding.  This eleven year old never takes naps.  Or even short breaks.  He is constantly on the move and talking non stop. 



I have to remember this day.  We were together for nearly all of it.  And I remember laughing alot. 
After riding we went to Culver's for dinner. When we got  home the boys watched a motocross race that they had taped.  And when I say "boys" that includes my husband too.  He's as hooked as our sons are. 
I sat on the couch and fiddled with my computer.  Soon my youngest started riding around the couch on his Barbie bike. 

You read that right.  I brought home the Barbie bike from work a few months ago with the intent to take it to Goodwill.  I procrastinated a couple of days and the next thing I know the Barbie bike is painted camo and Micah is riding it in the house. Sometimes with his helmet on. Because you know...Safety first!
Even funnier is when Darren saw how much fun his little brother was having riding the Barbie bike....he wanted to try it out. 

Have you ever seen a 17 year old who is all arms and legs ride a Barbie bike? It's pretty funny.
 It must be super fun to ride because some nights they fight over it. 
I have got to get a video of them riding that thing.

I have to remember the good times.  It can be hard.   Somedays it's nearly impossible.   I know that they are there.  I know that they happen.  But during the good times....sometimes I don't feel a thing.  So the good times, don't feel so good.  In fact they can make me bitter. 
I think,"Why am I not enjoying this!?!  This is good stuff!! You love your family!  Cherish this time with them!"

It makes me feel worse.  Like I don't deserve them.  Here I was given this beautiful family and half the time I'm not really there.  I mean...I'm there, but not.... "there".

So I need to tuck those good times away.  Keep them in my memory.  Because even if I didn't feel anything while it was happening, sometimes when I pull up a memory on a later date,  I will smile.  And I know it was real.  The good time.  And the smile too. 

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Thats how I'm feeling these days.  Like a lightening bug that a cruel kid smashed on the sidewalk to see if it would glow. 
Friday night I tried to pull out of it.  Sat in my office and worked on some art to hang on the walls.




I hated both of them.  I picked them apart.  Just like I do myself.  I almost threw them away but had to remind myself that I may feel differently tomorrow. 
It's so frustrating not to be able to enjoy things I used to enjoy.  I want that back so badly.  I can't remember the last time I read a entire book all the way through.
And I love to read. 
Or I did.
I'm sure I still do.
I hope I still do.
We moved my office/craft room into another part of the basement.  Now I have windows and it's so bright and cheery.  But it's a big fat mess.  Because I keep getting distracted when I go in there.  I can't focus long enough to put anything away.  I pick something up and carry it around and then put it back down.  This week I am determined to put everything away.  I will try really hard not to get sidetracked.  I will try really hard to love how I set that room up.  I will try really hard not to pick at myself.  I will try to be happy.

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