A Fixer-Upper

My life is full of broken things lately.

My house is broken - its walls are broken, its windows are broken, its floors are broken, its roof is broken, its plumbing is broken. Its condition is what my mother used to describe as a "fixer-upper" and what my stepdad used to describe as a "burner-downer."

In May, half of our huge old Linden tree crashed down in a windstorm, and the rest had to be cut down and hauled away. When it fell, it crashed onto our porch roof, garage roof and truck. Now I have a broken, gone tree, a broken yard (no beautiful old tree in it anymore), broken porch, broken garage and broken truck.

My van and my son's car are also broken.

Two windows at the other house (the one I'm currently dwelling in) are broken and the cruddy old tile floor is broken.

I just returned from Texas where I visited my broken mother.

I just received my property tax bill and my water bill and paid school registration fees, I'm still paying off my winter heating bills, and the trip to Texas added a significant amount to my credit card bill - my finances are broken.

And I am fostering a broken dog.

Unlike a house, a life can really only morally be a fixer-upper. So I guess I have my work cut out for me. I have to fix up my life.