Kristin Williams Balla

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So why does this stuff amuse me? I don’t know exactly. It just does. I have said it before and I’ll say it again, my natural ability to be easily amused has got to be one of God’s most wonderful gifts to me. Thank you Lord!

Another thing that amuses me are some of the ads  people place on www.freecycle.org. Freecycle is an organization that has 4,753 groups with 6,767,000 members across the globe. I belong to the Chester County group and receive a fairly constant stream of emails alerting me to free objects that people have available for pick-up.

This is a group for people who firmly believe that we should attempt to limit what we put into our landfills (but secretly we just want free stuff). We acknowledge that “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” I personally have received some treasure, and discarded some trash! 

Anything and everything (except for forbidden items such as alcohol, porn, weapons, etc.) are up for grabs on Freecycle. Some samples:

Through Freecycle, I have acquired one computer (old, but usable), several audio books, a folding exercise machine that taunts me unrelentingly, and one guinea pig cage. I have unloaded  all my vinyl records from the 70’s, one hamster cage, and one guinea pig cage.

I can’t wait to see what I can keep out of a landfill today! I will keep you posted on my fabulous acquisitions. And check out www.freecycle.org yourself. Perhaps you are desperately short on hangers?

I think that I might need to borrow a shotgun. To insure the quick wedding of one daughter? Of course not. To threaten the barely-teen boys who stalk another daughter? Maybe…but no. To terrify the over-twenty-one-year-old-man-child who wants to date a third daughter? Possibly… but no. It’s all about the birds. The birds have got to go!

I don’t hate birds, mind you. Despite the fact that as a child my bedroom light blazed every night for a year after seeing the movie “The Birds,” I really like birds - as long as there is a freshly Windexed pane of glass between us.

At our old house (in East Fallowfield) I attached a Brent-built bird feeder to the deck railing just outside the office window directly above my desk. My whole universe exploded with new-found joy! Suddenly I had a virtual zoo at my virtual fingertips.

A vast assortment of birds, squirrels and tiny chipmunks gathered to gorge on the birdseed I purchased in super-sized bags and stored in a Rubbermaid container beneath the smorgasbord. I had the perfect pets. I wasn’t allergic to them and I didn’t have to change a litter box. 

This year, Attila did not give me a Mother’s Day gift. As far as I can remember, he never has. Lest you think he is a barbarian (the name Attila throws some) he is the most generous man I have ever known. We are simply a couple who don’t do gifts very often (at least not for each other).  “Gifts” is not the “language of love” for either one of us.

I don’t think that I have ever received an anniversary gift (October 11th will mark our 29th). We don’t usually exchange Christmas presents, and birthdays? - almost never. We sort of get the things we want as we go along.

Attila and I don’t have expensive habits or hobbies. We don’t collect anything (except for children). Attila doesn’t hunt, fish, golf or boat. I don’t wear much jewelry (it gives me a rash). I don’t wear perfume or  make-up, get my hair or nails done, or go tanning. I’m allergic. I am even allergic to malls.  

We don’t smoke, drink, snort crack, gamble, shoot heroin, play the lottery, or have indoor pets (once again, allergic). We don’t own a single flat-screen HD TV. We don’t own an iPod or digital camera. We share one antique computer. We don’t buy movies on DVD (we can always borrow from our son-in-law’s extensive library). 

Our kids are horrified by our outdated Nokia Tracphones and persistently beg us to “get a plan.”  We have a plan! We don’t plan to spend $75 per month on cell phone bills!

So what gift did my incredibly generous husband enthusiastically offer up this past Monday? He announced that he was going to thoroughly clean our bedroom and bathroom. I nearly swooned. There is nothing sexier than a man who cleans.

Our bedroom is on the third floor of our house. It is, quite literally, in the trees. This does not cause a problem in the winter, but in the spring the baby birds chirp incessantly. I assume they are begging for nice juicy worms. It is soooooo loud. And so annoying.

When Attila was cleaning he must have bumped the sound machine on the bedside table. I went upstairs to use the bathroom and discovered that the third floor was hosting a bird convention. Flashback to a bad 1960s horror film! It turned out that the machine was chirping at full-blast, in perfect harmony with the nest occupants outside the bedroom window. I had achieved surround-sound (we don’t own that either).  

I turned the sound machine off. I sat and marveled at the clean floor which had so recently been covered by dust bunnies encased in tumbleweed. “Twilight Zone” flashback! Nah, just kidding.

We have the sound machine under control, but the bird cacophony outside the window continues to test my patience. Forget the shotgun. I’m not the violent type.  And youngins do have a way of growing up and leaving the nest sooner than we think!

Many, many years ago I purchased a grapevine wreath. It had the name Balla painted across the top banner, a wood cutout of a little house at the center-bottom, and six painted wood hearts (three down each side) declaring each family member’s name: Attila, Kristin, Lyryn, Brent, Declan and Ashley. That was two children ago!

When Johnna joined our family in 1999, I pulled off the old wood hearts and purchased new unfinished ones at the craft store. I bought nine so that I would have a just-in-case-one-is-ever-needed left over. I coated all of them with textured vanilla-colored paint. Using an antique maroon acrylic, I carefully printed each one of our seven names onto each heart, and super-glued them back to the wreath.

My OCD compels me to create balance, which meant I had to have an eighth name. I decided that Jesus would be perfect, and voila! I was able to simultaneously achieve balance and proclamation.

Johnna was nine when we threw her first birthday party that was ever held in our home (she had arrived at the age of eight). We decided to invite some friends from her previous school. Mrs. Hernandez complimented me on the lovely wreath over our fireplace and innocently asked, “Who is Jesus?”

I tried not to laugh. Really, I did. In Spanish, Jesus is a common name.  Mrs. Hernandez thought that maybe she had missed meeting one of our children! I had to explain that I was referring to Jesus Christ.

Leigha had written her name on our hearts when she lived with us as a foster child from June 2002 through June 2004. We were devastated when she returned to her birth family at the age of eight, but were also blessed by regular weekend visits with her over the next two years. When Leigha returned to foster care two years ago we were devastated once again, but there was nothing we could do about it at the time.

And then the call came in April 2008. Were we willing to be an adoptive resource for Leigha? As one friend said, “It never occurred to me that you wouldn’t say yes.”

The Balla Family wreath hangs above an antique sideboard in our living room. Today I took it down. Close inspection revealed a disturbing amount of dust. I had to vacuum it with a brush tool, blowing a fuse in the process (our house was built in 1900!). But tenderly vacuum it, I did. I gently detached the Jesus heart and reapplied it to the bottom-center of the grapevine. 

I retrieved the box that held the extra white heart and the small container of paint. At first, I forgot to stir the paint and it poured out clear and pinkish on the test paper. After vigorous shaking it returned to its’ original warm brown color and I was in business! I was very careful (nearly reverent) as my paintbrush slowly formed the letters    L e i g h a  across the heart. 

It has come full circle. Our daughter has returned home! To prove it, I have a recently-Hoovered wreath with her name on it. God knew she would return to us. He gave me just enough faith to hold onto one last heart with which to officially announce it.

Here is a list of the latest searches that directed people to my blog. Why? Because it amuses me, that why!

Seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up. Well, I probably could, but I didn’t. I am glad no one is cataloging my google searches!