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My neighborhood has a sign that says "No Solicitation" and usually I remind people when they come to my door trying to sell something. I am usually polite, but quick to say "no thank you" and shut the door.
This time was different.
I just had 50 some high school and college aged students over at my house Sunday night for a graduation party. When the doorbell rang Monday at noon, I wasn't in the mindset that it was a solicitor.
He was very slick. He was college aged and looked clean. He said it was "meet your neighbors day" and that he lived on the street near the entrance of our subdivision. He could name the street and say where the house was that he lived. He said he was on a baseball team that won regionals and they were going to Hawaii and he was earning his way doing a fundraiser. He said they were selling baskets of books with Vanderbilt and they would go to children who needed them. He said his parents didn't want him to take advantage of his neighbors, so he would work it off. He said his dad owned a window washing company and gutter cleaning company. I let him in and showed him on the deck where my worst problem was. He said he could get it. I also told him that I thought I needed help cooking for victims of the Nashville flood June 4. He said he could get his girlfriend, Christina to help with that. He seemed so nice.
Scam. I wrote a check made out to QSI and after he left I did a google search. Same story.
http://www.ripoffreport.com/Search/qsi.aspx
I called the bank and stopped/canceled the check.
I called the police and filed a report.
I have very little tolerance for lies...especially when they are ones where people prey on the kind and generous people.
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I am going through Carrie's bag of artwork that we got to take home after her preschool Family Night. There are beautiful brightly colored butterflies that I can't help but to want to tape on some of my windows. There are pictures where she can clearly explain who is who and what they are doing. What do I do with them? How can I tuck them away in a drawer?
I look around my kitchen and dining room and see the wonderful display from her creative hand and wonder what my house would look like if I wanted what we call a "Museum House."
There was a time when my house was clean and orderly. There was a time when everything was neatly put in its place. I laugh to myself because that was a time when my husband wasn't even home. He was on the road as a consultant. I saw him on the weekends. We lived on the weekends, so it wasn't exactly the cleanest house. And by Monday evening everything was put back in its place. A clean, orderly house. A quiet house. A lonely house. It was close to the "Museum House," although we were newlyweds so we had not yet had the chance to purchase "Museum House" furniture.
At this very moment, there is a dollhouse -still waiting for final decoration- in front of the fireplace. There is at least one load of laundry on my couch waiting to be folded. There are puzzles on the bottom shelf of the endtable in the living room. A dog bed beside the window by the front door...because I know how much Sampson loves to be on the lookout.
My dining room table now has papers spilling over that the kids have worked on...pouring their creativity into "gifts" for their parents...and water spills where the watercolor paint got a bit messy. Where do blankets go...you know...the ones you cuddle up with when you're watching a movie? I don't have a "place" for them...the closet is already taken with the basket of shoes and basket of musical instruments.
And so my house is not a "Museum House." Far from it. But this is a house where laughter is heard, where smiles are abundant, where memories are made. My house is far from clean 90% of the time when we have people over...for whatever the reason. We have board meetings here, we have parties here...we have spontaneous-no reason- get togethers here. And no one seems to mind that there's a dollhouse in front of the fireplace. No one seems to mind my butterflies on the window.
Will people remember the incredibly clean house? Nope. But they will remember the Johnson house as being one of the most fun places to be at. Where life is lived and lived well.
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Well, it's been a while since my last blog.
Many things have happened to the Johnson Family.
First, I completed two back to back races...something I was a little nervous about accomplishing.
I ran the Country Music Half Marathon here in Nashville. It was 13.1 miles.
I ran it with my good friend, Jill. She is amazing. She finished...in pain. But she finished. I am so proud of her.
My big brother, Brad and I have always had the dream of running a marathon together.
He ran one in medical school and I ran one three years ago.
So together, we ran the Cincinnati Flying Pig Marathon (26.2 miles) the following weekend after my half marathon. My knee hurt, but slapping Icy Hot on my knee, prayer and the determination (stubbornness) I get from my father helped me cross that finish line with my brother, my rock. And just a sidenote- I am never using runner's "Goo" again...yuck. My stomach will never let me forget it...and 10 porta potties from mile 13-26 will slow your time down...for sure. But we still finished in 5 hours and 2 minutes. Not bad.
During the weekend in Cincinnati, we watched the news show pictures of our beloved city being swallowed by water. The Nashville Flood of 2010. And unfortunately, most pictures we had to see from Facebook updates because the news somehow didn't see it important enough to show updates on the entire city being under water. Crazy. But, as the new craze says, "We Are Nashville" and we will prevail. We will recover. We embrace each other as one and united we stand and rebuild. Too bad the news won't cover that, it's amazing to see the city lock arms.
And so the floods caused all interstates to shut down. We could not get home. So we waited a day and watched, and were able to come home to a house on a hill. Completely untouched. If our house is under water, then God has broken his promise not to flood the Earth again. Our house sits near the crest of a hill that is half a mile high. I have complained many times (just ask my husband, Jeff) that my kids can't ride bikes b/c of the hill. We can't play baseball in our year...because of our hill. We can't use our backyard...because of our hill. I can't mow the yard...because of our hill.
And after the floods, I sing a new song...praise God for my hill!
During our trip to Cincinnati, Walter started to lose his appetite. We asked if his throat was hurting and he kept saying no. Tomato soup and chocolate milk were just about the only things he would put in his mouth. Monday, a week after we get back from Cincinnati, he still will not swallow easily. We take him in to the doctor and he has mono. We are not exactly sure where he got it, but fortunately it has not taken all his energy away.
We are still under doctor's orders not to do any major physical activity, especially contact activity...because the spleen could rupture.
But, Walter hasn't missed any school, yet. I have let him sleep in and I have taken him in later in the morning. He will miss tomorrow...it's fun run and field day...no sense in wasting a day. We will do math, reading, and Playstation here at the house.
So there is the Johnson update...my legs feel fine, Walter is on the mend, and Nashville...I guess you could say it's on the mend, too.
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