Archives for posts with tag: Marilyn Jean

Marilyn Jean is having her late 1800’s home remodeled.

She is getting a new kitchen!! With the multitude of people who come through her home on a daily basis to eat, she deserves it!

When they started doing demolition of the old kitchen, she found a treasure trove of history in the walls. Old bank checks, pictures, books, hymnals, shoes, buttons, letters and postcards.  Her farmhouse had at one time been a cheese factory. We had a little archive in our office for a bit, she had brought in her discovered treasures for us to see. It was fascinating.

Daily, she comes to the office with cabinet, paint, tile, back splash, counter, etc. samples we all get to vote on.  It’s so much easier to make a decision for someone else’s kitchen.

Recently a beautiful copper farmer’s sink was delivered. We are all living vicariously through Marilyn Jean.

Currently she has a dutch door that leads from the kitchen to the laundry room. She calls it her “Mr. Ed door.”


Marilyn Jean: I want to change the bathroom door off the kitchen to look like my new kitchen cupboard doors.  They’re distressed.

Daisy: Get a door you like and we can distress it ourselves.

Marilyn Jean: Oh I know you can. You distress me every day!

I just love that Marilyn Jean, she is a hoot!


Brainiwacks on break:

Daisy: I must need a nap. I just spelled bone: b-o-a-n.

Marilyn Jean: I know I was spelling something yesterday like “do” and I coudn’t remember how to spell it.

It is d-e-w.

Jillian: I hate those two letter words.

Daisy: They’re so hard!

Marilyn Jean: For crying out loud!

Jillian: Who brought the cupcakes? I just walked by them and my back side got bigger!

Can you describe me in your blog as a slender bean?

Marilyn Jean: Describe me as ro-BUST, emphasis on the second syllable.

She’s laughing as she’s typing, (pointing at Daisy) the bloody blog is getting bloodier.

Every time she looks at me, laughs and doesn’t say anything, I know I’m going to be in the blog.

There are four of us who work in the same room at our office. These ladies are very hard-working, clever, intelligent, savvy ladies.

So… it makes it tough to explain the bizarre exchanges that happen daily.


Yesterday afternoon we were silently working at our computers and out of NOWHERE:

Lauren: Did you guys hear that robin yesterday?

Marilyn Jean: Where, here?

Lauren: No, it was at my house.

Insert big guffaw errupting from the group.

Lauren lives 14-19 miles from any of us. Fourteen to nineteen miles.

Daisy: I work with some strange birds.

Marilyn Jean: What am I?

Daisy: You’re a crow, I’m a do-do, Lauren is a cuckoo and Elise is a turkey.

Elise: Oh great! Thanks Daisy!

Peggy Le Sew: (the poor, unfortunate co-worker who wandered into this conversation) Oh my heavens above!

This has been passed around our office and it’s so true!


“Friends In an evening class at Stanford the last lecture was on the mind-body connection – the relationship between stress and disease. The speaker (head of psychiatry at Stanford) said, among other things, that one of the best things that a man could do for his health is to be married to a woman whereas for a woman, one of the best things she could do for her health was to nurture her relationships with her girlfriends. At first everyone laughed, but he was serious. Women connect with each other differently and provide support systems that help each other to deal with stress and difficult life experiences. Physically this quality “girlfriend time” helps us to create more serotonin – a neurotransmitter that helps combat depression and can create a general feeling of well being. Women share feelings whereas men often form relationships around activities. They rarely sit down with a buddy and talk about how they feel about certain things or how their personal lives are going. Jobs? Yes. Sports? Yes. Cars? Yes. Fishing, hunting, golf? Yes. But their feelings? Rarely. Women do it all of the time. We share from our souls with our sisters/mothers, and evidently that is very good for our health. He said that spending time with a friend is just as important to our general health as jogging or working out at a gym. There’s a tendency to think that when we are “exercising” we are doing something good for our bodies, but when we are hanging out with friends, we are wasting our time and should be more productively engaged-not true. In fact, he said that failure to create and maintain quality personal relationships with other humans is as dangerous to our physical health as smoking! So every time you hang out to schmooze with a gal pal, just pat yourself on the back and congratulate yourself for doing something good for your health! We are indeed very, very lucky. Sooooo… let’s toast to our friendship with our girlfriends. Evidently it’s very good for our health. Forward this to all your girlfriends – and stay in touch! Thanks to all the girls in my life who have helped me stay healthy, happy, and feeling very loved.”

Sidenote: Is it normal when the office is closed due to snow our group missed being together for the day?

Is it normal that although I’ve banked enough hours I don’t have to come in until noon, I come on time anyway, I’d rather be in the office with these nuts?

I’m grateful every day for these women.

I think our office is pretty healthy!

Marilyn Jean commented on Dirge

I am sorry Daisy, but your “Waltz” or “Jazz”, or whatever that irritating sound is coming from your computer over there is called, has NO TUNE! It’s the exact sound or tune that I hear when “someone” (near by) whistles without a tune! lol So you better NOT have downloaded all that “Grunge” stuff just to irritate me! “How Wuude”! :))

Signed: Marilyn Jean

Marilyn Jean, my very fun office suitemate –

Daisy: Can we change the music? I can’t work to the dirge music anymore. It’s depressing.

Marilyn Jean: Dirge, what’s dirge?

Daisy: Funeral music.

Marilyn Jean: Okay, but I can’t take music with words. I can’t concentrate.

Daisy: Okay, I have some light jazz.

Marilyn Jean: No, I can’t do jazz.

Daisy: I can do classical or worship, but something with some spirit.

Marilyn Jean: What was it grunge, girge, girth music?

Daisy: Dirge. You know…like “poor Jud is dead, a candle lights his head”!

I bought her two CD’s with good classical music.

About 2 times a week Marilyn Jean puts on the slowest, draggiest instrumental music and tells me, “We’re listening to grunge, girge, drudge music.”

I’m secretly downloading jazz. I’m going to blast her out of her seat very soon!

Daisy: I wrote another blog about you.

2 hours later

Daisy: Have you read the blog?

Marilyn Jean: How do I get to your blog?

Daisy: People I don’t even know are following my blog and my own office mate is not following my blog?? I will re-send you the address.

Marilyn Jean: Great now I have to figure out how to get to it again. I’m following God. (She moves her hands like she weighing things in a scale) God, blog, God, blog.

Daisy: Well, you might want to read it, it’s about you. I wrote one about Elise yesterday…but you would know that if you were following my blog.

Marilyn Jean: What about your bloody blog?

Daisy: READ THE BLOG. You don’t have to do it now, read it tonight.

Marilyn Jean: Emails are just flying by, I don’t know where it is.  Do you know how many things I have to do tonight?

Daisy: It’s like Jesus, not even respected in my own office.

Marilyn Jean: Now you saying you’re like Jesus?

Daisy: No, just read the blog.

Marilyn Jean: You’re so funny.

Daisy: I AM? You are, read it!

(See “The Prisoner”)

Every day with Marilyn Jean is an adventure. Here is a recent tale, but you must understand, I’m not exaggerating, an adventure comes up every day with my funny and compassionate friend.

Marilyn Jean has a heart for prison ministry. She has a bulging full life and at this point that ministry consists of writing letters to women who have been incarcerated. One of the gals with whom Marilyn Jean had conducted a steady correspondence had definitely experienced a life change while in prison. When sharing the steps this gal had made in her life, in order to protect her identity, Marilyn Jean called her “the prisoner.”

“The prisoner’s” first few letters to Marilyn Jean were filled with blame. It was not her fault she was in prison, others were to blame. As their correspondence progressed Marilyn Jean could sense a heart change, and “the prisoner’s” letters indicated that she was taking responsibility for the actions that had brought her to this situation. Just as we all have to face, life decisions are up to us.

Recently Marilyn Jean got a phone call; “the prisoner” has just been released and was struggling to get on her feet. “The prisoner” had found a job, but before her first paycheck she needed clothes, groceries and gas.

Marilyn Jean had decided to take “the prisoner” shopping for a few items. Now Marilyn Jean is a smart cookie, she had clearly established her boundaries, done her homework, had a set dollar figure and was taking the wisest steps for this shopping trip. Because we love her, we were just a bit concerned. While we didn’t doubt Marilyn Jean’s assessment of “the prisoner’s” heart change, we wanted to make sure Marilyn Jean was safe.

What if “the prisoner” was finding it too hard to get on her feet? What if the pressure of being on her own was forcing her to feel the only way she could survive was to revert back to bad choices? What if in a rash and desperate moment Marilyn Jean would be the victim of a bad decision?

Elise, Lauren and I still felt Marilyn Jean should be accompanied to meet “the prisoner”. Our current work schedule made me the one available to go with Marilyn Jean the next day.

The morning of the meeting, my sister happened to call me as I was on my way to work. When my sister asked what I had going that day, I said, “Well as a matter of fact….” and I related the whole story. My sister is a cautious person and for those she loves, she is very cautious. She wanted me to take mace, but I had none. I laughed and said, “I do have the pink camo knife I got for Christmas in my glove compartment.” She insisted I take it with me.

My youngest nephew is currently into pocket knives and now I’m the proud owner of a pink camo knife. He was very excited to give it to me and I love it.

When I got to the office I told Marilyn Jean, Elise and Lauren what my sister had said and I showed them the knife I had hiding in my coat pocket.

Marilyn Jean, lifting her staple puller from her desk says, “I have this, a nose pincher!

Daisy: Do you know how long it would take to wrap that around someone’s nose?

Marilyn Jean: I will just tell her to hold still while I get it on there. I’ll just say, “Tell me when this hurts!” And it really hurts! I tried it on my finger!

Always fear Marilyn Jean and her nose pincher!

The Biscuit – an act of repentance & request for forgiveness

I share an office suite with three ladies – Marilyn Jean, Elise & Lauren.

Suitemate – Marilyn Jean is in charge of the yearly Operation Christmas Child drive in our area.

Marilyn Jean is a dedicated mother of 6, grandmother of 8, has raised many foster children, she coordinates the puppets ministry, helps out in children’s church every Wednesday, works a full time job, loves her husband, feeds a group of 20+ every weekend. This  fall she decked out the puppets in Bee Gees costumes and the kids put on a show for the church, “Payin’ Your Tithe, Payin’ Your Tithe, to the tune of “Stayin’ Alive.” Girlfriend is busy. And hilarious!

After weeks of coordinating this effort, it was the last day of Operation Christmas Child.  The truck was ready to pull out with hundreds of donated boxes she had collected, organized and packed, the last task on her list – copy the paperwork.

She was tired, frazzled, and ready for this to be DONE!  She sped from the church to our office to make the copies and….the copier wouldn’t work.  Feeling the pressure of having a driver waiting, knowing the load had to be on the road on time, she lost it.

“What’s going on with this copier?? It’s not working!!”  She was slinging paper, flinging open copier doors and drawers and pushing buttons to beat the band. Slinging and flinging, yes she was!

Crisis handled, paperwork delivered, returning to the office, she felt that she had over reacted to the situation and had not responded well.

If you knew Marilyn Jean like we know Marilyn Jean that was not the case.  She had not over reacted at all, we recognized this moment for just what it was – a frazzled and frustrating 2 minutes in her life of which we thought no more.

Marilyn Jean’s conscience worked on her and her imagination led her to believe that she had been a maniac so much so, that when she returned she had in hand a bag with breakfast biscuits for each one of us.

Thus began the biscuit representing our peace offering, our olive branch, our contrite heart.

I am fortunate to work in a drama-free, (except for Marilyn Jean! HA!) extremely supportive and fun work environment.  (And I’m not just saying this because they will read this!) No one has ever had to make amends for a ghastly word or act.

But we know ourselves and each other. We know when someone is a little “sassy”, grumpy, or overwhelmed.  We recognize one another’s wonder-FULL-ness and graciously accommodate foibles.

I love when I get an email from Marilyn Jean, she teasingly tells me, “Oh, you’re being a little sassy there, you owe me a bisquit!”

She can never spell it right and at this point she doesn’t care. I think it’s her hybrid version of biscuit and Bisquick.

I have been the biscuit fairy a couple of times. Not because I was rascally, but just because I’m that kind of breakfast baked-goods humanitarian!!

Did you hear that Marilyn Jean? She is going to email today demading a BISQUIT! I just know it! She’s ornery like that!

This morning we received a pan of biscuits from Lauren. Yesterday had been a tough day for her.  Lauren’s plan was to triple the recipe. She did…almost. Triple the shortening, triple the milk, double the dry mix.  It was a… biscuit cake and pretty darn good too!

Call the United Nations, let them  know– We all just want world peace man; get a bag of biscuits darn ya!

Sing it everyone “Give the biscuit a chance” (to the tune “Give peace a chance!)!

I can hear it ringing out now in every tongue and every nation – “Who knew? The BISQUIT!”

Nothin’ says lovin’ like somethin’ from the oven