The Fringe Hours~ Jessica N. Turner

Fringe, it's not a word you hear often.

It means "an area of activity that is related to but not part of whatever is central," a "benefit, a fringe benefit."

Jessica N. Turner, whom I follow on her blog, "The Mom Creative," recently wrote her first book about making time for you called,"The Fringe Hours." 

Graciously dedicating many of her fringe hours, she penned a brilliant book of simplicity that greatly lavishes the need to see ourselves as worthy of our own time, attention, and love.

I signed up for the launch team captivated alone by the title "The Fringe Hours," and yes, this mom could learn a thing or two about how to see or find myself in the busyness of everyday life. 

Days flee quickly and before I know it I'm turning the page of the calender yet again. Another year comes and goes and I'm another year older. So grateful for older, but sometimes missing the moments and days I can't ever get back.

The daily necessities and rituals of life can swallow you whole, leaving very little room for you and your passions if you don't harness some moments for yourself.

This book, a blessing, in showing us how to find ourselves in the grind of the daily day. "The Fringe Hours," with it's relatable and humuours accounts, is a lifeline to all women who need to see how valuable and precious they truly are, if they only make time to see it.

"When you make room in your schedule to breathe, you make room for you and that is the key to discovering fringe hours." Jessica N. Turner, "The Fringe Hours."

So yes trying to find time to breathe among the fifty million things I feel like I have to do and believing it's okay to take time away, just to rest and be at ease. I love this,.. "The goal of using your fringe hours well is to take time to do something that rejuvenates your soul." Jessica N. Turner, The Fringe Hours.

And Jessica N. Turner shows us how to "how to take back the pockets of our time we already have in the day..But you are a glorious creation, and your life is meant to be lived with joy....God makes us strong. In  your glorious imperfection, you can still shine beautifully bright. Embrace that truth. Stop trying to be everything for everyone and start investing in who and what really matters....Pursue a life of joy and contentment, and you will be happier, healthier, and more at peace." Jessica N. Turner, "The Fringe Hours."

On her blog, "The Mom Creative," Jessica N. Turner invites you to share in your fringe moments on fringe Fridays. 

You can purchase Jessica N. Turner's book, "The Fringe Hours," beginning February 17th.

Some of my fringe moments this week...reading, baking with my boys (this doesn't really count but since I ate must of them I'll include it), shopping kidless, and writing..learning to live more fringe!

The Best Sugar Cookie Recipe

A really good sugar cookie is hard to come by, at least in this kitchen.

I would like to think it could be the recipe but more than likely the baker, which would be me.

I've tried a few in my search for the ultimate sugar dough recipe. 

After trying the store bought, pre-made and pre-packaged and after reading the mega list of ingredients and knowing my son and husband have adhd and less is more, I began to bake only fresh using the staples, the basic ingredients.

There's nothing like a good homemade cookie. Of course the ones at the store with the tinted, delicately, whipped icing and tasteful garnishments beat mine by far but it's still a really good taste. 

I've tried sugar cookie recipes multiple times. They were either too hard or crunchy (could lose a cap there), too tasteless, too flat and hence not worth my time.

But this recipe I found over two years ago a keeper and it's not mine.

 It's simple and probably been seen many places but I thought I would share just in case anyone was like me two years ago and hunting for that perfect recipe.

I mainly make sugar cookies during Christmas but Valentine's day just beckons heart cut outs and sprinkles and icing and my boys and husband love them.

It calls for:

1 1/2 cups butter, softened
2 cups white sugar
4 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
5 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt

The 5 cups of flour and other ingredients are a little much for me to blend. No, I do not have one of those two hundred dollar mixers (that I desperately want) so I mix all by hand and it takes awhile a long while, especially when two faces are edged close to my elbows eagerly waiting to move on.

This recipe is one to add to the books. 

Below is the original link where I printed my recipe from and you can use it to print from it as well.

Happy Baking!

When You Need Him More Than Just In Case

Early morning sunrise streams in from behind cracked curtains and I see him.

I see him walk out in the snow to the shed, his jacket too thin for the bitter cold, his worn boots unlaced where underneath his heels broke free, and his socks were worn holey.

He hadn't eaten breakfast. 

He didn't make his lunch. 

I knew better than to ask if he had brushed his teeth because I already knew the answer. After ten years you know the answer.

He returned from the shed carrying a red, gasoline can and a set expression on his tired face. 

His footsteps leave deep trails in the white snow. Trails of his strength to make it through something so simple, so easy to have render fixed but to him a mountain that he couldn't see.

He heads over to the rusted, old, snow covered car and opens the gas door and he pours and he gives the faithful ole steed a turn and she purrs.

I watch. He was out of gas two days ago. He had been driving it daily. I knew it. He knew it. What should have been a simple remedy was left to last minute juggling because his mind doesn't cross the t's and dot the i's as normalcy should.

The many times and moments that have escaped barely to make it are too many for this wife too count.

I knew he was different before I married him.

He was enlightening, a brilliant mind, a soulful light, a well of laughter, a strong hand, a breath of freshness to this young, tried woman seeking the love of life. 

A brilliant mind never formalized. A mind never stamped and approved and sealed.

It wasn't until after I married that I found out or was told that he was diagnosed with add/adhd when he was younger. It doesn't matter for if someone would have told me back then what I know now it wouldn't have changed my "yes" to a "no" so in love were we.

It was only "ADD." It's nothing I've been told and I have read, nothing. It's easily over diagnosed.

 If I had a pen for every moment, every word, every outing, every circumstance, every tear, it's never nothing and always something.  Especially when he is the head, the provider, the one whom I want to lean on, it's never just nothing.

I remember sitting underneath the bright lights in a conference room, chairs arranged in a big circle, all the women wore big, beautiful smiles as they shared their husbands heart to provide. It was their passion, their life's work, to behold something beautiful to their wives financially. 

I sat, stiff and silent my hands clamped in my lap. My heart sunk. I was the only one whose husband didn't have a desire, a drive to financially provide.

Even from early on, I had to remind him to get paid but back then it didn't really matter for we were both with jobs, childless, and I was the floater. Over and over those words and he would forget and if it wasn't for me he would have worked without pay. 

We would sit and go over numbers and his brain doesn't follow numbers and how this wife wished that it had or could to this day.

So everyday I pray, pray for a miracle, an open door, a peace that transcends figures. 

He may never see the financial need or remember it for longer than a day.

But give him a piece of a wood and he could make just about anything. It was a boat this year that sailed him and our boys through the rivers to catch fish for the first time.

Give him that tarnished, well strung guitar and he could play you a song to get your feet moving, your heart singing, and your hands raising.

Give him that Bible and he could talk your ear off with praises and affections and admiration's and show you God's unconditional love to make your soul alive.

Give him a watered pool and he could swim like an olympian. 

Give  him that trivia game and he can answer just about every question.

Give him some string, a box, and he can trap you that bird, tell you the type, and its call.

Give him a saw and some tools and he could create just about anything.

Give him some chemicals, some tubes, plastic bottles, and wires and he's a wide-eyed, seven year olds favorite genius.

Give him a few paints and he could draw you a picture and make it look easy and flawless.

And that list goes on and now should come the "but then" list.

Ah  yes, that list is lengthy but we all have them this "but then" lists.

All days are merciful grace, all days are for clinging to the One who holds us in his palm, and who gently whispers "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

I sit in the truck, turn the key, and nothing but silence could be heard. The silence was quickly overshadowed by my disbelieving groans of not today. My sweet boy sits and waits at the academy, forty five minutes past pick up time.

From behind the curtains I see them pull into the driveway. Moments later the carpenter pokes his head through the door, all grins, "It started for me. Me and Josiah were praying the whole way home, it would start."

So yeah a weak smile panes my face and I nod and speak through gritted teeth "that I was glad."

Driving the truck to the dealer, I knew it was okay, my husband was behind me, following right behind, just in case.  

I needed him, just in case. 

I glance away and quickly look back in the mirror and he was gone. The phone beeps and his words flash across the top. "Had to pull over, forgot to shut the hood." 

A silent eye roll but after ten years you know all the answers. 

But I needed him, just in case. 

It melts the heart when there is no "just in case" someone or spouse.

No one was behind me to help except swarms of cars and passerby's in rush hour traffic.

I can panic or I can remember the One who is always here, unseen, quietly unseen, yet still powerfully, miraculously here, who is waiting, watching, and listening.

He is more than our "just in case," He is our sufficiency, our comforter, our defender, our provider and He sits and waits for us to speak to His heart and to show Him ours no matter how tattered or fearful or torn it is. He is the mender. 

I don't need a "just in case," I just need Him.

So Valentines Day weeks and marriage week and it's my hope to post more of the same sorts and I hope your here to join in!