I am well and truly blessed.

I wish I had more time and energy to reflect on all of the silliness of this week, and I will yet.

But, I wanted to make a note, before I forget my good manners, to be thankful for how blessed I genuinely am. For family and friends, for good health (more or less) and for good fun.

Mr. H and I run a charity in our hometown, recycling computers for children. Yesterday, we hosted a build-day, and I took a minute, once we got started, to stand back and survey the goings-on, and reflect on how amazing it was. We had an approximate 75 bodies building computers yesterday, kids from 5 up to grown adults in the late phases of life, from all walks. The kids were kids who came not from well-to-do families, but kids from an emergency shelter in our home town. It was amazing to watch. And all-total, we processed a grand total of 47 computers in some form or fashion, within the span of about 4 hours.

Everyone came back to our house for dinner, afterward. We had almost 30 bodies in and out for dinner. The only part of the day that went horribly awry was a burnt pan of lasagna, but it was the last pan out, and everyone had already gone back for seconds, so we were all good.

Today, the house is quiet. I'm not tripping over twelve thousand monitors, pieces and parts. We had a plan of attack for the next time. We learned a lot, we met good people, we reconfirmed some old friendships. We stand a chance at having seriously impacted the lives of those in our community. And how truly blessed are we, to be able to have a day like that?

I'll go through it more, here and in other places... But I wanted to make a note, while it was fresh in my brain, to remind myself of how blessed we can be, and how blessings arise from struggles and trials. If it hadn't been for one little boy.

Home Improvements, I think.

This morning, Mr. H and I set out to 'improve our home'. Riiiiiight, cause I look so much like Bob Vila. But off we went.

The goals: To put shelving units up in the front (12-foot-long) closet, and paint one wall in our bedroom a lovely mocha brown. We can do this. We're capable, aren't we?

Sure we are!!

So, we get started, and Kid One sees us carrying out the hammer, the drill, etc., into the front closet, since we're gonna tackle the shelves first. Kid One doesn't like loud noises; it's part of who he is. He generally chooses to be elsewhere when we're doing some sort of construction. However, the closet is in front of, and shares a wall with, the bonus playroom, where Kid One and his sister were currently coloring.

You should note that part of who he is results in interesting language patterns. His verbs are askew, he often says things by verbifying the noun he's referring to. He's nailing a nail, for instance.

So there we are, in the closet, when we hear this from Kid One, out in the bonus room:

"Remember to shut the closet door before you screw!"

OMG... I almost died of an aneurysm, I laughed so hard!

Long story short, we did not get those shelves hung, due to lack of correct hardware, but we have successfully gotten coat 1 of the paint up in our room. And so far, it looks lovely.

And we've learned an important life lesson, as well. Always shut the door before you screw, folks.