Have mercy! It’s hot as blue blazes. Hotter than a $2 pistol. Hot as molten lead. Hot as the hinges of Hell. Hot as the devil’s kitchen. Hot as all get-out. Hotter than fish grease. It’s a steam bath out there. A real scorcher. Hell’s waiting room. You could fry an egg on the sidewalk. I’m sweating like a pig. Sweatin’ buckets. Like a turkey at Christmas. Like a sinner in church. Burnin’ slam up. However they say it in your neck of the woods- it’s miserably hot. 

It got to 100 today in central Mississippi with 66% humidity. I can tell a change in my mood when it’s like this. I become grumpy. Impatient. Pessimistic. Prone to kick inanimate objects that get in my way. But, I know that some of you actually like to feel like you’re in a rotisserie oven. That’s the thing with seasons- everybody gets a turn at having things their way. Some people’s turns are longer than others- cough, cough- but life isn’t always fair. So, to all the summer people, I hope you’re enjoying this cremation setting on which the thermostat is currently set. This is what we heard y’all yearning for all winter long and here it is. You do you!

I really don’t know if it’s the heat or the prolonged period of inconvenience and stress or all the recent moving or a combination of them all, but I’m just bone tired. Dog tired. I’ve literally had to fight to stay awake this entire week. I’ve decided that I just can’t hold out like I once did. I think I remember when I first heard my mother say that, years ago, and here I go. I guess I’ve reached that age where you say that because you feel it and you know it’s something new. At some point, our kids became us- adventurous, free, energetic, and nimble and they bump us up to our parents’ slot- predictable, cautious, sore, and tired. I believe the transfer has taken place. 

We got Carson all moved into his 425 sq ft studio apartment last week. We were told he was one of three Carsons to move into the building that day. While I was a little wary of downtown living, his building is located between a fire station, a police station, and a convent. His grandmother was pleased to hear this. Should he have a problem with fire, crime, or temptation, he is surrounded by those who can help. He started his job on Monday, his 22nd birthday. He’s 4 days in and absolutely loves it. Probably doesn’t hurt that he spent day two playing golf. It does a Mama’s heart good to know that her son has found a job that’s a good fit for him….and it doesn’t hurt her feelings that it removes his name from the payroll either. 

It’s an exciting moment when you really get out on your own for the first time. This move has felt different than the others. There was college, but his address was still our address and our home was still his home base. This move changes all of that and that’s ok. This is the natural progression of life and I’ve worked my way to the point where I’m good with that. We packed up some things he had from college. We bought some new things to help him get started. We gave him some used things we had. With it all, he pieced together what he’d need to start out on his own. God has been so good. Now we just pray, when the time is right, he’ll meet a sweet Christian girl who likes to cook and will bring him home to see us every month or two. If you know any girls like that, send them over. 

Some of you have asked if I’d post pictures of what we’ve done to our house. The guys came and finished the last few things today. We’re enjoying having life back to normal around here. Here are a couple of pics of some of the work we did. We also revamped bathrooms and bedrooms. 

Hello, friends. If I tried to explain to you the level of chaos in which we’ve been living since we last spoke, I couldn’t do it justice. I won’t even attempt it. Apparently, the further into a renovation you get, the more out of control your life becomes. I guess the good thing is the paint fumes seem to dull your senses to it all. If you ever find yourself debating if you should renovate your house or buy another one, I suggest you buy every time. I know you’re as tired of hearing me tell you how my life has been hijacked by this project as I am tired of telling it. The good news is that, within a week, our home will be/should be completely finished. As of this past weekend, our things are all moved back in and we just have to get stuff put back into place. There’s a small punch list we have to work on before we can completely reclaim our privacy and put an end to the steady stream of workers with whom we’ve been sharing our home. While I’ll miss seeing them at our doorstep at 7:30 a.m. each morning, I’ll get over it quickly. My wit and my rope had both reached their ends, so this conclusion couldn’t have come at a better time. 

Meanwhile, Carson has accepted a job in Mobile, Alabama and so, while we were busy moving back into our house this weekend, he drove in from Starkville with his truck loaded down with all of his crapola from college and dumped it off on his way to find a place to live in Mobile. So. Much. Stuff. You can imagine I was thrilled when he found an apartment he can move into Wednesday, so we’ll move him south in a couple of days. This week has been devoted to getting everything sorted and ready for that. Did I mention Mobile is possibly the hottest and most humid place on the planet? Heat exhaustion always makes for the best moving days. I counted and, between our two kids, this will be the 11th time we’ve moved a child. I don’t recall a single one of those that didn’t take place in the broiling heat. Y’all know I don’t do this heat thing well and this summer has gotten off to a serious start down here. It’s not playing around and I detest it with all my heart. 

All through this, Davis has been bringing home buckets of vegetables from his garden. He decided this would be a good year for a garden expansion. Gardens are rude in that they rarely ask what your schedule looks like or what’s convenient for you. No, they just have a knack for producing at the worst possible times. This year, it certainly did not disappoint. On Friday, we had a plumber, two tile guys, a painter, and our contractor- all in the house. Carson drives up and starts unloading his mess. Davis drives up with 5-gallon buckets of green beans, squash, and blueberries. 

My head began to throb and I was starting to feel stressed and I had to slap myself. These are all good things. No, they’re all wonderful things. Our home has a facelift. Carson found a good job quickly. We have plenty of food to eat. My goodness. God is good. Just breathe and say thank you, Joni. 

When I come back, I shall never mention the word, renovation, on here again. We’ll pretend like this whole thing never happened and go back to life as it was before we had this interruption. This long, drawn out, dusty, fume-filled, seemingly endless interruption. Remember, kids- Do. Not. Ever. Renovate. Your. House. Friends don’t let friends renovate. 

I’ll be back next week and we’ll talk about something. I don’t know what yet. Anything but the R word. 

I’ve been missing this! 

JONI