“I Met Him in the Ladies’ Room” (Book Review)

Posted on January 28, 2014 by Jan C. Johnson

I swiped the image from Amazon, but I don't think Michelle will mind.

I swiped the image from Amazon, but I don’t think Michelle will mind.


It’s been ages since I’ve reviewed a book, although I’ve read quite a few in the past year. Time to catch up! This short novel by one of my favorite writers seems like a good place to start.

This novella grabbed me right away. Kerri, the protagonist, really needs a job. Then along comes the perfect opening for her skills–except it’s at a church, and they want the applicant to be a Christian. Huh?? She knows nothing about Christianity. Okay, less than nothing.

I love the way Kerri throws herself into trying to truly qualify for the job rather than just faking it. Her sincere cluelessness makes her a very real, funny and charming character. And the story of her “growing into the job” is both well told and uplifting.

(PS: Get the book, AND the sequel! You’ll love them both. Available from Amazon and others.)

Thanks for reading,
Jan

By the bye, I am linking up this week with my sweet friend Jen and the Soli Deo Gloria sisters.

Posted in Everybody Has a Story | 4 Comments

“Morning Pages”

Posted on January 20, 2014 by Jan C. Johnson

This month I’ve started doing Morning Pages — If you’re a writer you’ve heard of this journaling/freewriting exercise that’s supposed to encourage creativity. The idea is to just write anything that comes to mind, quickly and without stopping, until you have three pages. Because I’d been writer’s-blocked since some time in October, I felt desperate enough to give it a go, but thought I would start easy with just two pages a day. Even that much random writing is harder than it sounds. For evidence, take a glance at these excerpts…

DAY 1, Wednesday: (From first page) “I woke up early and grabbed some jeans and one of Brent’s Henley shirts from the laundry, so I could go out and get the paper. (Never did like to go out in a robe.) So there I was, in dirty / borrowed clothes AND white socks under my Toms, eating a banana with Nutella. Brent came in and asked whether I was taking Tipper to the vet for her shots. Ooh, look at the time! I jumped up, grabbed the leash and took off with her. We sat about 45 minutes in the waiting room, during which I felt embarrassed every time I noticed my white socks peeking out of my otherwise-snazzy Toms. Once back home, I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Wait, what’s that brown smudge over my left eyebrow? … Nutella?!? And another little spot by my mouth. It’s a good thing I didn’t see anyone I know… except, of course, the vet… close up…

(Page 2) “What to write about? Whatever comes to mind, I believe, is the principle. I can see it now: what I had for lunch, my to-do list, fragments of thoughts or intentions ricocheting off each other and the walls every time I see something shiny.

“Never mind, I’ll just write what I write and it will be fine. The whole point is to shake loose the fingers and brain, whether or not anything of immediate value falls out. So that’s two pages. Oops, just took off the pagination control and changed the style. Now it’s shorter. Shooting for two pages is kind of like trying to pray for 10 minutes: It sounds like forever and you keep looking at the clock. “Only two minutes?? Yow!” – until you get used to it, then eventually you could pray all day. Or to be realistic, at least longer than ten minutes. Until you see something shiny, right?”

Day 2, Thursday: (Bottom of Page 2) “Well, what next? I’m sort of eager to get back to [the book I was reading], but I still have several lines to write here. Here I go again, filling up space by saying how much space I have left to fill.”

Day 3, Friday: (Opening) “Good morning, Morning Pages! I do feel as if we’re getting better acquainted now. This morning I’ve had breakfast, looked at the paper/worked the Sudoku, had my quiet time with coffee, fed and played with Tipper, and got the laundry started. All by 9:00. Yep, I think this wacky concept of ‘structure’ is going to help me a lot…

(Bottom of Page 1) “….Speaking of careers, I’m still bumfoozled as to whether or not I have God’s calling to write. (Just had to stop and add “bumfoozled” to the Word dictionary. Sheesh.)…

(Page 2) “…The writers’ blogs / conferences / coaches all talk about ‘fitting in’ so as to be marketable… and I may have taken that as a cue to imitate others. Well, not exactly, but I do notice a nagging little prompt in the back of my head, that I ‘should’ be like the successful authors. Even though the coaches also counsel against imitating. Agents, as Brooks says, can smell a ripoff a mile away. (Added “ripoff” to dictionary. What is this world coming to?)…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Monday, I was able to blast through two pages in just half an hour. Still slow, but way better than my first couple of attempts.

If you want to write but have trouble settling on something to say, I recommend trying the “Morning Pages” routine. You never know when a great idea will appear on the page.

I’m still waiting, of course…

Thanks for reading,
Jan

I’m linked up with my Soli Deo Gloria sisters over at Jen’s.

Posted in I Remember When... (my OWN stories) | Tagged , , , , | 12 Comments

Call me Grandma!

Posted on November 19, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

My draft folder contains four unfinished posts, two of which I started a month ago and never seemed to get back to. But then I planned to post about the women’s retreat I would attend this past weekend, and was going to let that post pre-empt the others.

Now my pre-emptive post is itself getting pre-empted by bigger news…
Meet Owen Parish Johnson, First Grandchild Extraordinaire!

Owen arrived safe, sound and adorable, but two weeks before he was expected. In fact, I had planned to visit his mom, Heather, for a couple of days en route to my retreat. (Daddy Eric was somewhere out on Ft. Hood for the week, having fun with Howitzers.) I thought I could help Heather with last-minute cooking, chores and preparations plus enjoy some down time…

But Eric called Tuesday with the news that they were already at the hospital. I guess Owen couldn’t wait to meet me. He was born the next morning and all my plans went merrily out the window.

He wasn’t yet six hours old when I got there. What a precious, soft, warm little bundle!

Heather’s family started arriving later that day, Brent came the following morning, and I can only hope all the company didn’t stress Heather out.
Owen, with his Johnson grandparents Owen and his wonderful parents
I tore myself away and made it to the retreat, a little late but blissfully happy. I’ll still blog about the retreat, but for now maybe you can help me get used to my new title:

Just call me “Grandma.”

🙂
Thanks for reading,
Jan

PS: This week I am linking up with Jen and the Soli Deo Gloria sisters, many of whom I got to see in person at the aforementioned retreat.

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Out With the New, In With the Old

Posted on November 1, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

Did you ever get rid of a piece of furniture to make room for a replacement… without knowing whether the replacement would even function, or fit in the space? It’s a commitment. It takes some faith to burn a bridge and say I’m gonna make this work.

For about five years I’ve used a cheapie “hand-me-up” desk that we got for our older son back when he was in high school. You know the kind: particle board with wood-grain contact paper on the visible surfaces, barely sanded on the undersides. It had become worn, scuffed and scratched, but was still plenty sturdy.

Occasionally we talked about replacing the ugly desk with something a bit more grown-up, but never got around to it. If it ain’t broke, you know…

Then three years ago, while we were emptying my parents’ lake house for sale, we found something in the tool shed — something I knew well but had forgotten about. There, behind scrap pipe and cans of outboard motor fuel, sat a dark wooden box about three feet long and half as wide. The lid was split in half lengthwise. When I saw two antique-brass drawer pulls along one long side of the lid, I realized what we’d uncovered.

“Hey, this is Mom’s old desk!” I told Brent. Sure enough, we soon found the carved, screw-on legs wrapped in a towel. “I used to do my grade-school homework on this.” I showed Brent how the front half of the lid flipped over onto the back to form a shelf, with pigeonholes and a drawer underneath. A “trundle” writing surface pulls out from under the pigeonholes.

Mom had often told me the story of the brown desk. “Santa” had brought it to her for Christmas when she was in first grade, somewhere around 1930-ish. My grandmother promptly went to borrow an old dining chair from her grandmother, brought it home and set it in front of the desk. Mom used that desk/chair combo for her studies all the way through high school.

We didn’t put the desk in the estate sale, thanks to its sentimental connection with both my childhood and Mom’s. “Too bad we don’t have any place at home to use this,” I said as we parked the disassembled piece in storage with the 1950’s kitchen stool and boxed dishes.

Recently I got the notion to bring the desk home and see whether I could polish it up to be presentable–the tool shed years had not been kind. But… even if it looked okay, where would I put it? Nevertheless, we retrieved it and stashed it in the spare room.

Then, in perhaps the world’s longest double-take, a bold thought struck me:

Maybe I could use Mom’s desk for work!

What, that old thing? It had never held a computer component, or even a calculator, in its life. Would it manage a desktop computer and peripherals?

I took a hard look at my equipment. Only the tower was heavy, and that could sit on the floor. The flipped-open lid was wide enough for the monitor base, and would put the screen at eye level. A full-width drawer under the writing surface would probably hold my supplies…

Hmmmmmmm… It’s so crazy, it just might work.

I went after the dried-out surfaces with lemon oil, soft rags and optimism. Before I knew it, the finish had regained its dignified glow. Out went the “new” desk with the trash. Boy, I hoped I wouldn’t regret getting rid of it.

Vintage / Modern: getting along nicely, wouldn't you say?

Vintage / Modern: getting along nicely, wouldn’t you say?

After an hour’s shuffling and organizing, I’m glad to report that I now have a pretty, inspiring place to work. With most of the supplies in drawers and pigeonholes, it’s clutter-free. I even have room to display the telegraph key my dad used during his early years with the railroad.

This post is getting as long as it is long overdue, so I’ll quit gloating now. A question before I go, though: Have you ever discovered that something old suits you better than a more contemporary version? I’d love to hear your stories of rescuing or repurposing an old item that others might have discarded. Did you risk anything in the process?

Thanks for reading!
Jan
This week I’m linking up with Jen and the Soli Deo Gloria sisters.

Posted in I Remember When... (my OWN stories) | Tagged , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Okay, I’ll Share my Hidden Gem

Posted on September 10, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

Important Notice to my Texas Readers:
IF YOU ARE DRIVING AROUND EAST TEXAS AND SEE THIS BUILDING, STOP!
PARK THE CAR, GO INSIDE AND EAT.

D'Barn Yeah, this rustic-looking building in little ol’ Murchison. Who’d-a thought?

If I sound surprised, it isn’t that I don’t like tiny towns. For the record, I love them. But there are some things that one simply doesn’t expect to find in tiny East Texas towns:

Airports.
12-screen movie theaters.
High-end jewelry stores.
and
Elegant cuisine.

In my many travels around East Texas, I’ve pretty much found this last one to be set in stone. You can get something to eat just about anywhere, but in the littlest towns you might be limited to convenience-store fare from the gas station. This is the culinary equivalent of a high-school football game concession stand, only without the awesome Band Booster fresh-grilled hamburgers.

The next-bigger hamlets may have a DQ. More populous burgs might even offer healthy options — namely, the veggie counter at SubWay. Indie places, in my experience, usually feature barbecue and little else.

So when hunger hit me as I drove along State Hwy 31, I wasn’t too optimistic. Then I remembered a place called “D’Barn” had recently opened in Murchison. Maybe—just maybe—I could find something there that wasn’t batter-fried or gravied. Bracing myself for Formica and metal, I went in.

What’s this? Real, polished wood dining tables with comfy upholstered chairs invited me to sit down and make myself at home. A gracious staff member named Crystal greeted me, which I almost didn’t hear because I was so taken aback by the beautiful interior. She brought me water, sweet tea and a menu.

And what a menu. Unique, imaginative sandwiches filled two pages. Then there were the entrees. Steak, chicken and even seafood were all represented. And yes, you can get a chicken-fried steak. The point is, you don’t have to. Torn between two or three (maybe more) sandwiches, I finally chose one. Crystal helped me with my selections, offering to bring the jalapeños on the side so I could try them. I don’t recall which sandwich I settled on, but it tasted delightful. Even the jalapeños, which I scarfed.

While I was eating, a young guy in a white jacket came into the dining room from the back. He stopped to speak with each of the guests, asking how we were enjoying the food. Crystal told me it was Michael, the kitchen manager / chef. Again, this sort of attention is very much NOT a part of a typical small-town dining experience.

Pretty soon Crystal came back and offered dessert. They all sounded so wonderful that I bought one to take home to Brent. Seriously, you can’t imagine how perfect this place is. At home, I raved about it to Brent while arm-wrestling him for the last bite of dessert.

Weeks later we were driving through Murchison with our older son, Eric. Coincidentally, all of us were hungry for dinner, so we stopped by D’Barn. Eric had the chicken-fried steak. The first bite impressed him to a round-eyed silence followed by rapid and efficient eating. I went out on a limb and ordered poached fish over rice, with an orange cream sauce. Brent had a grilled steak which he proclaimed excellent.

Dang, that was good fish. It even came with sautéed fresh spinach, my favorite veggie.

Now I’m hooked, an addict drooling over the hot sandwiches and poached fish haunting my daydreams. The least I can do is share the addiction. But be careful — Michael is always branching out with new, adventurous dishes.

As near as I can figure, it isn’t just the great food that makes D’Barn stand out. The staff all seem to share a sense of adventure, gusto and plain ol’ loving what they do.

All this just goes to show, it’s worth while to explore local indie places. Also, don’t make fun of tiny Texas towns because you just never know.

Hm. I may have to go through Murchison more often….

Thanks for reading!
Jan

PS: I’m no restaurant reviewer, but I couldn’t resist bragging on such a great place even if it is more than an hour and a half from home. FaceBook users, click here to find D’Barn. And if you go, tell them the poached-fish addict sent you.

I’m linking up this week with Jen and the Soli Deo Gloria girls.

Posted in Everybody Has a Story, Near As I Can Figure... | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Summer Renewal

Posted on September 3, 2013 by Jan C. Johnson

Some of my friends over at Soli Deo Gloria are blogging about their summer. Jen wanted to know whether we had enjoyed an especially refreshing vacation; or let go of something that we needed to release; or gained a sense of renewal (or maybe still need one.)

Me? I’d have to say “All of the above.”

In June I got bogged down and lost in the novel I’m writing (my first.) Maybe I’m not really cut out to be a writer, I thought. Maybe I should just go get a job sacking groceries. At least I would bag the cold and frozen things together, unlike many of the younger people whose work I often redo when I get to my car. But I digress.

Then I joined a six-week Beth Moore video/workbook Bible study. It deals with the opposition Christians face, not from other people but from the enemy of our souls. He wants to make sure Christians have as little credibility and influence as possible.

Oddly, the idea that satan himself might want to shut me up only renewed my determination to keep going. I gave myself a schedule of office hours in an effort to layer some structure onto my willy-nilly life. I have my ups and downs, but I am going to finish that draft.

In July, as I briefly mentioned in between complaining about my nail polish, I released my younger son to leave our home and form his own in marriage. Sappy as it may sound, I really did gain a daughter rather than “lose” ol’ Greg.

The theme for August turned out to be “Grand Central Station.” A stream of young adults–our own kids, extended family and friends–came and went, gathered, parted ways and re-grouped, with our house as home base. Brent and I had a wonderful time seeing them all. I especially enjoyed having a brood of “chicks” to cook for again, and getting to visit one-on-one with some that I don’t see very often.

As refreshing as it was to spend time with young people, I did find my meager attempts at a structured schedule sliding away. After the crowds left and the house grew quiet again, I found my introverted self ready for another kind of refreshment. I needed to spend some time with the Lord, just him and me, letting him refresh my sense of direction and purpose for the rest of the year.

And so, as near as I can figure, the rhythm continues: renew my sense of direction; release others to follow God’s calling–and release the hindrances in my own life; refresh myself with social down-time.

Repeat as needed.

How about you? Have you experienced significant renewal, release or refreshment during this summer just ended? Need one or more of these, but aren’t sure where to start? Share your thoughts in the comments, or we can talk it over via email.

Meanwhile, you might like to visit Jen and read her post about how the idea of “enough” can be a moving target. I am also linking up with Rachel Anne for the Company Girls Coffee blog party.

Thanks for reading!
Jan

Posted in A Page From My Journal, Near As I Can Figure... | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments