Advice

Yesterday at our church's small group class, a interesting question was asked. What advice would you give to the soon-to-be married or the newly married?

I was amazed at the response. They didn't feel that it was good idea to tell the truth. Marriage is hard and is filled with a lot of hard work. (I struggle with this attitude - topic for another time. Lying to the next generation maybe why we have a generation gap!)

Here is the advice I wished I had received. Stop judging everything your spouse does by your family's "we've always done things this way." Just because we've done it this way doesn't make it the only way for something to be done right.

Here is an example from very early in my marriage. Where does mustard go when it's put away? His mother put it in the cabinet. My mother always refrigerated ours. Who was right?

This could be a big conflict. Could you image the fights over the condiment of mustard? Unfortunately, it is things like this that are the beginning of a lot of martial troubles. No, not mustard but little petty things.

The label on the mustard bottle does not claim that it needs refrigeration. We put the mustard on the cabinet shelf. Then I had to confess that I prefer my mustard cold. Luckily, he didn't have a preference. Now, you will find the mustard in our refrigerator.  

It seems like a little thing but communication is really the key. We need to express our wants, needs, and preferences but we need to listen to their wants, needs, and preferences and that's when compromise is necessary. Beware the need to control everything around us. It will make us miserable.

Blessings,

Leann Holland

What will you do for work?

During the early days of this recession, my husband's construction business was a scary place. We were hit really hard before they even labeled it a recession. Then the work started picking up, not great but we survived. The recession was labeled. The 401k's and IRAs lost money. The mortgage crisis hit. The stock market dipped further. Work was slow and steady like the tortoise in classic children's story.

My husband had to work jobs out of town away from the family. Sometimes the accommodations were nice. Some were not. One job in Georgia, in December, he lived in a log cabin that was not winterized and had no heat. It was a cabin that had seen Sherman march by in the civil war (The cabin was on the wrong side of the river and Sherman decided not to cross for it). It had been unkempt for years before some restoration had taken place. General cleaning was not one of the tasked performed.

We are in the process of selling our house and relocating to our home state which we left nineteen years ago. This is the reason I haven't posted in some time. It would be a hard time in which to get a new job here and we can't move until we sell our house. [Sidebar: Actually we've had one contract and another interested buyer back out because in these tight credit times, they can't qualify for a loan (credit problems).]

My husband has proven his love of his family again, working a job that requires he live like an animal. My husband works with a crew that restores dilapidated old log structures and makes them functional and usually beautiful.

This current job site is six hours from home on a log addition to a grand home. The homeowner chose the hotel in which to house the crew, a hotel owned by his uncle. He told them it was nothing special. He drove the guys to their home away from home.

The initial impression, judging the book by it's cover, was spot on. My husband wondered how such a place could still be operating. The truly scary part is the condition of the room. The toilet hasn't been cleaned in at least weeks. The garbage container still contains the leftovers (beer bottles and other trash) from the previous occupants. One of his coworkers ran to the store to obtain cleaning supplies as he was so concerned about the conditions. While my husband checked the bed for bugs, he's not sure how well he'll sleep tonite. Bugs weren't apparent. Cigarette lighters and more trash were found behind the headboard. Then he check the condition of the mattress, praying for clean sheets. An abandoned mattress lying around in the precivil war era log cabin looked to be in better shape than what he is expected to sleep on tonite.

What would you do? Leave or Stay? Come home with no job to face three hungry teenagers. What will you do for work?

Count your blessings tonight when your head hits a clean safe pillow.

Leann Holland

I Think I Care

What do you think of the title? I think I care. I was listening to the radio with my teenage son. They were having some sort of pledge drive to raise money. The regular host (who I don't like) asked why you were supporting the radio station. Then he said, "I think I care."

I scratched my head, he thinks he cares. Wow, what a wonderful message of hope. NOT!

How can you think you care?

 I care. Now, I don't. I care. No, I don't. I care, I really do. I think I care.

Now, that's a conversation I don't want to have. Do you care?

Leann Holland

Welcome!

Welcome to the first entry of my blog. This is my second blog. This is under my pen name where I am hoping to be to share my adventures, especially in the writing arena.

I have wanted to write since I was fourteen years old. I wanted to write about life in a way that I hadn't experienced yet. So, I went out lived my life. Now, here in that dreaded age period, known as middle age, I feel ready to share my experiences through my writing. Using a pen name to protect the innocents in my life. I like to start with half truths as the jumping off point and then write what ifs.

Thank you for joining me.

Leann Holland