Phil — michellependergrass.com

June 22, 2011 By Michelle Pendergrass 10 Comments

*missing camping…

Just last week, I blogged a Praying In Color entry.

When I started praying, I had no clue it would end up to be a picture of a canoe camping trip, but subconsciously it must have been on my mind. I know that getting Phil to relax was weighing on me. I’d been trying not to nag him so I’d say, “I’m worried you’re not getting enough rest.”

“Got things to do.”

“They can wait, they’re not as important as your health and you need to rest.”

“When I’m done.”

“You’ll keep adding to your list.”

“What do you want me to do? Things got to get done around here.”

“I want you to at least take Sunday off.”

“How about Sunday afternoon?”

So I compromised for a few weeks. Phil works from seven in the morning until nine or ten at night five days a week. Then on the weekend, he’s out mowing the lawn, fixing the cars, and tending to all of the other mishaps that inevitably happen. We’re Murphy’s red-headed step children. Seriously. Ask people who have seen the chaos in action.

For the last few weeks, I haven’t had to beg Phil to relax, he’s taken to enjoying an entire Sunday off. Except cooking. But cooking is one of those activities that bond and solidify our relationship. I’m his perfect sous chef.

We took a two day float trip last summer on the Tippecanoe River. We camped at Tippecanoe State park. I don’t necessarily enjoy the work-out a canoe trip on a windy weekend gives me, but it melted my heart to see Phil truly relax, fish, and enjoy himself.

He doesn’t do well relaxing at home. I think all of the things to do dangle in front of him and taunt him. I know, they do that to me too, but mothers have the ability to tone out frequencies that are annoying. Sure dads tune out things, but typically if they’ve tuned one thing out they’ve tuned everything out. Moms can tune out the irritating stuff. Tell me I’m wrong!

So we go camping.

I love, love, love campfires. Cooking breakfast over a fire brings out the maternal in me. Who knows why. I don’t care why. I know I’m up at the crack of dawn wrapped up in a flannel shirt, throwing another log on the fire. I get the water boiling for the coffee and sip it while I add bacon to the cast iron skillet. Phil gets up, drinks my (by then) cold coffee and I make another steaming cup for myself. We take turns flipping the bacon and Zane yells from the tent, “I smell bacon!” and we sit by the fire waiting.

So I prayed for some extra money and for Phil’s boss to let him have a weekday off and I planned another float trip for our family. Next year, my goal is for more than one camping trip.

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

*originally posted August 4, 2008

Filed Under: camping, Family Pictures, Memories, Phil, Zane

February 9, 2011 By Michelle Pendergrass 3 Comments

My alarm goes off at 3:45am so I can take my thyroid pill.

My alarm goes off a second time at 5am telling me it’s ok to get up and make coffee (because I can’t eat or drink and hour before or after I take my thyroid pill and I refuse to wait an hour after I get up. So I do it like this.)

His alarm goes off sometime after 5am. In the summer, I’m normally awake. In the winter, I’m still sleeping. But I normally get up before him.

His second alarm goes off a little bit later. He gets up then. He kisses me and tells me he loves me.

His third alarm goes off at 8am to remind him to take his pills.

I made the coffee this morning. His socks and underwear were washed and dried, but not folded nor put away. I was working already when he got up. He snuggles his face into the crook of my neck. He says it’s his favorite place. He kisses me and tells me he loves me.

I go downstairs for a second cup, I make him his first. In his To-go-cup. I kiss him and tell him I love him.

He goes outside to do his work, the work of a property manager, but he kisses me first and tells me he loves me. But he also clears the mounds of snow off of my car because he knows I’m running errands today. It’s 2 degrees outside, but with the wind chill factor, it feels like it’s 15 below. His hands are ice and he wants to put them in my warm spots when he comes in. I laugh and tell him the dog has a warm belly. He puts his icy hands on her warm belly and she growls at him. Then he puts them down the back of Zane’s shirt.

Zane does school. I blog and work on my projects.

I warm leftovers for lunch. Correction. He heats the leftovers today. I didn’t hear him come in. We sit together in front of the TV and watch recorded episodes of our favorite shows. NCIS. Bones.House. We pray. We eat. We kiss and say I love you before we go back to work.

Somedays he cooks dinner. Somedays I cook. Today he’s cooking chicken cattiatore.

The dishes are mostly mine. I hate putting away, so I make Zane empty the dishwasher. I hate putting away clothes, too, and that’s why they have to dig in the pile to find matching socks. And why I just lay all the other clothes flat out and deliver them to rooms to be hung on hangers. It’s why we have no clean towels in the bathroom. They’re in a pile. Clean. It’s why our suitcases are still on our bedroom floor with clothes spilling out from them from the trip we took almost a month ago.

It used to bother him, how I don’t do well at putting things away. But now? He’s happy for clean clothes. Even if he has to dig. And I’m happy that sometimes he cooks, even if I have to clean.

We’ll go to bed the same way we woke, saying I love you.

One thing I’m glad I never put away? Our love. It’s there every day, all day, we hug, we kiss, we say I love you. Constantly.

It’s the little things.

Living like this,

I don’t need a single thing other than his love.

Filed Under: Phil

November 24, 2010 By Michelle Pendergrass 4 Comments

Depth of field is the quantity of out of focus areas whereas “bokeh” is the quality of out of focus areas. You know, the dreamy circles that show up in the out of focus area? That’s bokeh.

Here’s my bokeh:

Out of the Box Challenge at SecretAgentMama’s blog.

* * *

We also do a photo challenge here called Popinjay. This week’s prompt word is: Disorganized.

Here’s a description of what Popinjay is all about.

* * *

Filed Under: Out of the Box, Phil, photo challenge

September 14, 2010 By Michelle Pendergrass 3 Comments

This is bound to get a little mushy. Too bad. I’m writing it anyway.

Selfless, I believe, describes my husband. He constantly goes out of his comfort zone for me.

The man who…

didn’t know what a cappuccino was when we met who is now a coffee snob.
didn’t cut his salad and made fun of me for doing so–who now cuts his salad.
didn’t wear shorts or sandals-ever (that change wasn’t so much for me)
hates the city, but takes me to downtown Chicago when I ask.

There’s tons more to add to the list, but I’m going to stop here and talk about the city. Phil has taken me to the city 3 times in 16 years. The first time was the day after Thanksgiving to see the tree lighting in Daly Plaza. Phil hates crowds like I hate spiders. Yet, he took me. He sniffed my hair for comfort all day long and that made me smile and made my heart flutter. Because, truthfully, and I hate to admit this, but I wouldn’t sit in a room filled with spiders for him. I think I’d pass out from the anxiety and fear.

But he overcame.

For me.

The second time we went for an Alton Brown book signing. Like father, like son. Zane was terrified.

The third time was Sunday. And y’know what? There was no anxiety that I could sense. I love this man.

* * *

Next week’s prompt is: CAGED

Link up…

Filed Under: Phil, photo challenge, Popinjay

August 7, 2010 By Michelle Pendergrass 2 Comments

August 7, 2010

59 years ago on this day, Phil’s mom was born.

16 years ago on this day, Phil and I met in a traffic jam and shared our first kiss.

2 months ago on this day, my mom died.

There just doesn’t seem like there’s a whole lot for me to say today. I’ve been rejoicing and giving thanks for my husband and our life and crying and grieving the loss of mom.

It’s always both at the same time for me. Living and Dying. Beautiful and Ugly. Right and Wrong. Always in the middle of an intersection of good and bad.

Filed Under: Mom, Phil

June 24, 2010 By Michelle Pendergrass 4 Comments

Because when the power goes out and you’re stinky, there is no other option.

Filed Under: Family Pictures, Funny Stuff, Phil

May 12, 2010 By Michelle Pendergrass 9 Comments

Most of you out there in blogland also follow me on Twitter or Facebook so you probably already know why this blog has sat dorment for a month. The rest of you, maybe sponsors I’ve just started building relationships with or new readers should understand this isn’t typical at all.

Here’s the recap of the last month:

April 14th: I headed to Calvin Festival of Faith and Writing to represent Relief Journal and The Midnight Diner as the new president of the company that publishes them, ccPublishing.

On the way there, my sister called me concerned with my mom’s health.

April 16th: My dad’s birthday, mom was hospitalized. I was still at the conference.

April 20th: Doctors find a 5cm brain tumor in mom.

April 24th: My parent’s 39th wedding anniversary, mom has brain surgery. Doctors diagnose her with Diffuse Large B-cell Lymphoma. (We canceled our trip to our grandson’s first birthday party in Missouri to be at the hospital for mom’s surgery.)

April 26: Phil’s step-dad, the only dad he’s known because his dad died in an auto accident when Phil was a year old, is diagnosed with lung cancer, has a large tumor in his lung and the cancer has wrapped around his spine and nearly severed a vertebrae.

April 29th: We leave for Missouri.

April 30th: Phil’s step-dad has surgery to remove the lung tumor and part of the spinal cancer.

May 3rd: Phil’s step-dad has surgery again, this time to put in an artificial vertebrae.

May 6th: Phil’s daughter puts on a second-first birthday party for our grandson!

May 7th: Mom has an IV bubble put in her brain for chemo.

May 8th: Back to Indiana.

May 9th: Mother’s Day, I spent the day with mom at the hospital.

May 10th: Mom’s chemo started.

And here we are. I’ve been at a hospital nearly every single day since April 20th. Thank goodness for friends who are willing to help out with Popinjay (and will continue to help!) until things are a little less frantic around here. I’ve made some commitments to a couple sponsors and I’ll be catching up on those posts soon as well as trying to participate in Popinjay. I might even get to post a blog or two with thought on this past month. You all know how much I loathe cancer for taking my best friend, Jill.

Amber said something when this all started, I can’t remember when it was, but she said something about all this stuff hitting right after some very good things happened in my life regarding God. I can’t help but think she’s right. That’s the idea I need to explore. Am I cursed or blessed? I’ve posted about that before with a lighter tone, but after several writer’s conferenced and critique partners who’ve mentioned the fact that I might well be cursed–I might just believe it. LOL

Filed Under: Aiden Lee, Coach's Midnight Diner, conferences, health, Jill, Missouri, Phil, Popinjay, Relief Journal

March 8, 2010 By Michelle Pendergrass 5 Comments

The challenge word issued last week that is “due” today is: PERFECT.

I should’ve saved PERFECT for a fall day. But I thought of something. I’m cheating again and digging in the archives. It’s also not much of an artistic challenge. But it is perfect.

Click on it, if you so desire. It will open bigger.

It is a love letter from a few years ago from Phil, my perfect soulmate.

We met in a traffic jam.

We haven’t always had the perfect relationship, but we’ve always had the perfect love.

* * *

Next week’s word is: FRAZZLED

You have from now until next Monday to take your photo, post it and you’ll be able to link it next Monday. I can’t wait to see what you come up with!

* * *

Also, since the word hope was so challenging for me, I thought I’d give you a head’s up on a month’s worth of words so that I you can have some more time to get just the right shot.

Week #10–Frazzled
Week #11–Adorable
Week #12–Lost
Week #13–Accomplished

pop?in?jay–noun–a person given to vain, pretentious displays and empty chatter.

In other words, blogging.

Isn’t that what this personal blogging is all about? Me. Me. Me. For this photo challenge, that’s perfect. We’re going to dig inside of ourselves and do some “concept photography.”

I’m going to give you a word and you’re going to take a photo of something that describes the concept of the word.

You CANNOT take pictures of your kids or your pets for this challenge. Or anyone else’s kids or pets. I know they’re precious, but they make your creative bone lazy. Let’s get outside of the box. Let’s be challenged.

Please leave the link to your post (not the link to your website or blog.) For example:

Right: http://michellependergrass.com/week1_photo

Wrong: http://michellependergrass.com

So–Let’s see your photos for PERFECT
Link up and don’t forget to visit the other participants!

Filed Under: Phil, Popinjay

December 28, 2009 By Michelle Pendergrass 12 Comments

It was very hard for me to hit “publish” on this one.

* * *

In October of 1999, Zane was born. Phil was driving our semi over the road and he was home one day out of every thirty. That year, Jill and I spent New Year’s Eve together afraid for Y2K. We survived.

In 2000, we filed bankruptcy on that semi and moved back to Indiana and lived with my parents for a short time. Phil found a driving in job in Chicago and he was home two days out of every seven.

In 2001, 9/11 happened and I was scared for our lives. I’d never, ever heard it so quiet outside as when all planes were grounded. That month, we found a duplex to rent, Zane turned 2, potty-trained and I was still trying to decide if I was a good mom or not.

In 2002…Phil got a local job hauling fuel and was home EVERY night.

In 2003, Phil and I bought the Knox house. I started attending a church for the first time since I was let down by a different church back in 1992.

In 2004, doctors thought Phil had cancer. He didn’t. He did, however, punch a wall and break his hand and have to have pins put in.

In 2005, I was reading my Bible daily, active in Women’s ministry (and Phil in men’s ministry) and I was really getting to know God. Jill told me she had breast cancer and had already been battling it for a year. She’d already had a mastectomy and chemo and radiation. She made me get a breast exam. And I think they thought I had cancer. I then had an ultra sound. Then a mammogram (and platypus poop.) Then I had to see a surgeon. He told me I didn’t have breast cancer.

In 2006, I was called to write. “Write.” (I noticed I posted that on 12/02/06. Wonder if that has anything to do with 12:26?) That year, I also lost my Uncle Ed. I’m not sure there’s ever been a time when I felt as close to God. And that’s also the year my church gave me a wake up call–lying about me, accusing me of ridiculous things, and leaving me alone during a time of huge, monumental need. Phil thought he was having a heart attack. Our fridge broke. Phil lost his job. Phil had double hernia surgery. We almost lost our house. 2006 was probably the hardest year of my life. I felt so alone that year. And God taught me more about His love than I could’ve ever expected.

In 2007, my thyroid completely shut down and I’ve been trying to get my brain (and my body and my life) back ever since. It’s also the year I was asked to be on the editing team at The Midnight Diner.

In 2008, I lost my best friend, Jill in January. She might have survived Y2K, but she did not survive breast cancer. And then my grandma passed away in September. I was asked to be Editor-in-chief of The Midnight Diner.

In 2009, We were taken on a trip of a lifetime to Key West and Marco Island, Florida in March. Phil quit truck driving altogether! He started working as property manager for a local retreat center. We were blessed with a grandson in April. Around May, I finally started feeling like myself again with the help of some replacement thyroid hormone. We moved in June and I’ve been trying to figure out what life is now that Phil’s home all day, every day and now that everything has changed.

* * *

I started this post with the intention of talking about how I feel separated from God right now. I mean, I know He’s there, He just feels distant to me and I remember hearing people talk about feeling this way and I distinctly remember thinking, “I will NEVER feel that way. I will always feel as close to God as I do at this very moment.”

I was going to talk about this new Bible I got, The Books of the Bible–with no verse references–and how I was going to start reading that for the New Year.

But I got caught up in looking at the way things got so ugly during the time I was closest to God. I remember what I went through and the lessons I learned after I did Beth Moore’s Believing God study. Things I haven’t found the courage to write about.

And though God says, “Do not be afraid.”

I am afraid.

I’m afraid that if I get close to Him again, something worse will happen. And I don’t know how to let go of that fear.

I know I’m the one keeping the distance from God.

I said it.

Now what?

Filed Under: 12:26, Believing God, Beth Moore, death, God's Way, grace, Grandma, Gratitude, health, Hope, Jill, lessons, Loss, Memories, Phil, Spirituality, Uncle Ed, writing

January 16, 2009 By Michelle Pendergrass 11 Comments

I seriously couldn’t wait to post this story. Phil and I must have laughed for a half hour about it when it happened around 2am and then again just as hard when we woke up. And this is one of those stories that will be around a lifetime!

Remember that our bed is in the living room because we’re remodeling? There’s a door we let the dogs out of in there, so when Patches got up at 2am and scratched to go out, I was not a happy camper. Okay, happy that she’s a puppy and not piddling on my floor, but it was -23 degrees overnight and our poor furnace is not keeping up. I also don’t sleep with much between me and the covers. Can you say COLD?

Plus, I think I’m getting sick. Phil didn’t know I was letting the dog out so he asked, “Honey? Are you okay? You’ve been making a lot of noise and you’re not sleeping good.” I was all stuffy and my head hurt and I was having bad dreams.

But I stopped whining long enough to let the dog out.

Then I let her back in.

Before I could get back to bed, she was already on my side, snow-covered paws walking circles in my little comfy spot. I was not about to lay down on a snowy bed.

So I found a nice fleece blanket (soft!) and rather than turn the obnoxious bright lights on, I opened my cell phone as a nightlight.

I accidentally hit the voice command button, so while I’m trying to straighten the fleece blanket over my snowy side of the bed, the voice command lady saying with her robotic voice, “Please say a command.” Pause. “Please say a command.”

Phil: “Butthole.”

Robotic lady: “Please say a command.”

Phil, louder: “Butt. Hole.”

Robotic lady: “I’m sorry. Did you say, ‘Call Phil?’”

Filed Under: Funny Stuff, Phil

pop?in?jay–noun–a person given to vain, pretentious displays and empty chatter.

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