My man and I had our weekly conflict date.

Tuesday after work

until we work it out

or until one of us is dead.

(Just kidding.)

We keep to the rules of fair engagement

as per Les and Leslie Parrot’s book The Good Fight.

We walked to the gas station and got an unsweetened ice tea. I drove my scooter. Our little chihuahua mix sat in the basket in front. Hubby walked along.

Fun day! 👒🌻👒🌾🌈😊😊💏💞

We’d kind of spread our conflict all out over today and done a lot of it on Facebook Messenger. (Text fights are rad because of the emojis and gifs.)

We had such a good time you guys!

I told him I’m like 2% not okay with being sick 98% okay nowadays.

I’m thankful.


We got my new scooter today.

 My husband and kids helped me take it out of the box and set it up.  

I rode it around the house and LugNut, our chihuahua mix, rode in the basket.

 I was gonna take it out for a spin around the neighborhood, but I Suddenly discovered that I had used up all my energy for today (as is typical for someone who has chronic illness).

 So my boys carried it back up the stairs, unused.  My husband and I shifted our gears; I went to bed. 

I will try it tomorrow.

 But that was nice. Our family hasn’t had that much fun for a long, long time. 

It felt pretty good. 🌷🌻🌷

Push comes to shove 🌷

I have an opportunity to help at my church as a chat host.  I said I would pray and ask my husband.

 ( Hubby and I ask each other if we’re gonna do big or expensive stuff. we talk it out.)

 (But if we can’t agree, someone gets the final word.  It’s him.)

I asked him: 

he said absolutely not.

Screeching brakes.  Shattering glass.  Smell of burnt rubber.



 want to

 accept that!

(I didn’t say that outloud. But I felt like it!)
People: I feel like I’m keeping my 

foot on the break in my life,

 with my hopes and dreams—-

 for EVER 

on a hill 

in SAN FRANCISCO! (Infamously hilly town)

There’s even a little annoying voice in my head that says,  “your man is too timid.  He’s holding you back, J.   Don’t listen to him.

  Go do what you want anyway.

  You know you can overwhelm his natural reticence and caution 

by the sheer force of your personality.”

Yep. I do.  I’ve done it before.  

Not a pretty picture.  Don’t ask.

Help.  Jesus.  Help.

I feel like Eve:  “Be like God, girl!”.

 Be your own woman.  Go for it. 
 Move ahead of Mr. StodgyandTimid and into your destiny!”


Just yikes.


More later.  🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Beautiful Abstinence

It’s challenging to find balance when my addiction is a behavior that continues to be a necessary part of my life, don’t you find? It’s like with an eating addiction, you’re not ever going to stop eating. But you can find new ways to think and talk about eating.

Sexual addiction has been my row to hoe. Sexuality, as a married woman, needs to be a healthy part of my life. But am i still able to walk in purity in my mind, you know?

Regarding my addiction du jour: coming up on ten years of abstinence. It feels pretty good. It does get easier, but an occasional rematch is still called for.

I am not beyond falling off the wagon. Ever. I walk careful. I mean right?

I find that so much of addiction involves MY THINKING. I depend on the Holy Spirit to help me. Some of my triggers are very subtle in the beginning, which is when I want to catch any imbalance.


I have to STAY in the Bible every morning. That’s part of my recovery. If I spend my energy putting GOOD IN, then I don’t have to worry as much about keeping bad stuff OUT.

I don’t read romance novels. Or even go down that aisle in the grocery store. Just maintenance for me. Not for every Christian woman, necessarily.

I watch my language. No, I don’t mean what you would think by that. I mean how I am talking.

Speak life

If I talk about my sexual-ness as a way to bless my marriage, keep holy secrets, and show my loyalty to God instead of a way to prove something to the 🌎 or be selfish or destroy myself, then my thinking tends to fall in line with that.

I love my life. I love my freedom. I respect myself. I am learning to be kind to myself.

Keep to the old paths

Text fight

Feminine mystique.  It’s an important thing.

My hubby and I often go at it 🔨 and tongs

 by text.

I have found that the use of gifs and emojis is very helpful when I am 😡 at him.  I can say stuff with emojis that I CANNOT say with words very easily without him getting mad and hurt.

you see what I’m sayin?

Real love 💘

I don’t want you to feel false guilt and shame

because we didn’t finish that good thing we tried to do.

No pressure


I accept you the way you are.

You are my man.

I chose YOU twenty-five years ago at a lighthouse in Newport, Oregon.

Hitched my wagon to your 🌟


*No fakes.



People can’t be perfect, you know?

Well they shouldn’t have to try.


That’s why Jesus came, isn’t it?
To set 🌎 free from the rat race?

True love





makes the 🌎 world go ’round.


Choleric + phlegmatic = 🎇🎉🎆

We have always had a very matriarchal home.

Both of us had bossy moms and invisible dads, bless them:
So go figure.

I have been praying my GUTS out about this for ten years or so. Since I got sick anyways.

Both of us are out of balance, you know? It feels yucky.

So I saw a little piece of my answer the other day. 🌻

we’ve both been going to counseling for years. (SERiously messed up.)

yeah, So…

Hubby planned (!) a Christmas tree thing for us.
He made sure we all went.(!!)
We had fun. (!!)

We did not fight. (!!!)

It was so great.

**We went and got a Christmas tree

** listened to fun music

**bought trimmings at Walmart.

It was a beautiful day.

Then we came home and I collapsed (health) and Dillon and the kids fixed up the tree. 🌻

me getting sick has been a great gift for our marriage,

(though it’s like to kill both of us. Yikes!)

If a man is going to have the chutzpah to lead, a woman has to have the chutzpah to LET him, you know?

That kind of change takes an act of God and a little courage. (Read chutzpah\faith).


It’s a two-way street.

Either way, toward good or bad right?

so…Christmas shopping. Yeah.

My heart is full of that memory. 🌻

Our first family trip on which we did NOT fight.


I should blog this. (I just did, right?)

I’m not the only

bossy woman

who loves God

married to

a timid man

who also loves God.

He loves my spunkiness.

I love his laid-back-ness.

We can work with this.