Iwannabe...

Switching Characters

2007-04-14T14:08:00.000-05:00

My step dad asked me if my upcoming book was a novel or short stories. When I told him it was short stories, he said I should make a novel my next project.

Well, there are a few set backs there. First of all, my mind will barely concentrate long enough to finish a shorty. I am the person who starts the washer and then forgets to put the clothes in until it is in the spin cycle.

The next problem is that I cannot keep my characters straight long enough to make a novel out of their journeys. I would have my fair maiden as the murderer in chapter five and my kindergarten child driving a car in chapter six, while the villian lives happily ever after. Hey, that might make a great novel!

The next problem is patience. I have none. When I get an idea I want it written, edited and sold that day. There probably are people who can do a one-day wonder like that, but not me.

So for now I will happily stroll along, my characters taking it one day at a time.

Chasing Satisfaction.

2007-04-13T05:34:00.000-05:00

It has been a long time. Really, about two months to be exact. You are probably thinking 'Where were you?' the whole time, right?
Let me say in my defense, it was not my fault that I could not blog for so long. Apparently when Blogger changed over to Google, something went wrong with my account and I could not access my blog page. So- my sincerest apologies for being technically challenged. I am thankful that everything straightened itself out.

Now, on to the news. Success at last!

Do you remember my New Years Resolution? You know- to become a published author?

Ta'Dah! It has become reality! Publish America has accepted my book, 'Through Mom's Eyes' , for publication.

How does that make me feel? Well- truly, I am not sure. I had all of these illusions of how it would be when I finally recieved an acceptance letter. I would jump up and down. I would scream. And I would definetly spend my advance on a new computer.

Didn't happen that way. Go figure.

I read the email twice to be sure I was reading it right. I felt, well, skeptical. Is this for real? Then, happiness set in. Cold chills ran all over my arms. I showed my daughter the email. And I read it again.

There was no advance. So that means no computer for now. And the emotions have rocked back and forth, happiness and fear, elation and doubt, like the tides coming in. Not at all how I imagined I'd react.

Perhaps, when I hold the finished book in my hands, it will come. Maybe at the book signings, reality will set in. Or, it could be... is it possible, that authors are never truly satisfied with their finished works? Perhaps, it is the writing itself that is the real satisfaction. And when it is completed, there in the winner's circle, we are already plotting our next book.

What He said.

2007-02-12T15:34:00.000-05:00

"I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day." Abraham Lincoln

Mr. Lincoln sounded like a wise man to me. I am very thankful for the times I also was driven to my knees.

"The goal of life is not to arrive at the grave in perfect condition without a hair out of place having safely pre-arranged every detail.
No.
The goal is to skid in sideways, rumpled, tattered and totally spent, with a big smile on your face as you exclaim "Man! What a ride!" Author unknown.

This is how I want to live my life- ready to go- so I can enjoy the ride. Have a great trip today!

Thoughts running amuck.

2007-02-04T20:21:00.000-05:00

Just thought for today I would let you peek into my mind and see whats happening.(Even though my Daddy said he wouldn't go in my brain for good money!)

A sign should be placed on our children's door the moment they hit their teen years.
" Out of my mind- back in 10 years."

Signs of the PMS express coming through:
" Oh-please come in honey- so good to see you! Do you have a Kleenex (sniff*)? Let me tell you this hilarious joke I just heard, haha- (sniff*) You should've called first (sniffle* snub). I am so glad you came...

Hmmm-what else can I eat on this core plan tonight(burp!).

Have they finally decided to answer my queary?

I need to check my email.

Thank you for taking a tour of my mind. I hope you enjoyed yourself. Come again soon.

Bird buffet

2007-01-29T11:11:00.000-05:00

My sweetheart recently built me a birdfeeder on a stand. Now I am blessed every day with a show.
I have so far spotted a pair of cardinals, Brassy and Bronze, several little black and white birds, the oreo's, and two beautiful Blue Jays who are both male and fight for dominance.
My favorite though,is a little black and white with lots of gumption. While Brassy, the male cardinal is hogging the food and running everyone off, little Gumption will boldy make his way to the seeds and help himself. If Brassy or one of the Jays happen to knock him off of the feeder, he just sets his feathers and flies back to the food. I like his attitude. A little spit-fire.
While everyone fights for food, they must ever be on the lookout for a common enemy. Smokey Joe- my cat.
Smokey seems to think the feeder is a bird buffet and looks longingly for a way to get out to it. I have no doubt that he would eat one of my birds if he got a chance.

All this made me think of Christians. Yes, we fight at the feeder sometimes. Sometimes we are to pushy, only thinking of ourselves. Some of us though, are like little Gumption- we just keep coming back. That seed is worth it all. Through it all though, we to watch for a common enemy. Like the cat, old sloothfoot lurks about our feeders, intent on eating us if he can. Thank God for the Blue Jays who let out a loud, unpleasant yell when danger approaches. All the birds take notice.
And thank God for our 'Jays', always watching, screaming out a warning.

Covered wagon express.

2007-01-24T08:56:00.000-05:00

So as you all know, I sent my book for publishing consideration.
Weeks ago. Long, extensively dragged-out, anxious weeks ago.
Still waiting...

Perhaps this is how the Pioneers must have felt. Write a letter (query). Find a town two days ride from your settlement. Hope it has a post office. Mail the letter, to be taken by covered wagon back home to the East.
Wait.
And wait.
Wonder.
Did the family (publishers) ever get the letter? Was the wagon ambushed by Indians? Did the chief (editor) tear it to slivers and burn it over a raging campfire?
Wait.
Is that trail dust signifying a mail rider returning with a book contract on yonder hill?
Low and behold- it is a mail rider!

Months of waiting, hoping- holding your breath; and finally!

"Dear Ma'am,

After careful consideration, we have decided that your book does not meet our needs at this time. We regret that we cannot use your material at this time. Good luck blah, blah, blah.....

By this time, the pioneer is getting his or her shotgun loaded.

My wagon train still hasn't been spotted on yonder hills ( or in my email).

Still waiting....

Take a deep breath...

2007-01-06T15:27:00.000-05:00

So- is the New Year starting out like you expected? If so, hurray!
If not; why not?
I decided this would be the year my book will be accepted. So far, the editors at Steeple publishing haven't rang my phone off the hook.
Why? Because I haven't submitted it yet.
This is my year, though. I have the book ready. What have I got to lose?
You say- 'what if they reject you?'
Well- I'll add it to my stack of rejections and keep plugging on.
I'm thinking 'what if they accept?' Am I ready for book signings and appearances in Barnes and Noble? I think so.
The thing is, I am never going to know until I take a deep breath... and hit the submit button.
If you see me in Barnes and Noble, you will know this one didn't end up in the reject pile. Happy New Year!

New Years

2007-01-01T14:04:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year!

Did you stay up late and watch the ball drop? Did you kiss your hubby? (I did!)Did you listen to drunks firing shotguns and trying to shoot off fireworks in a torrential downpour? (Hmmm...You must live near me.)

Finally-
Did you make any reso'lie'tions? I didn't. If I had though, here would have been my list. I believe in resolutions you can actually keep.

1. I will start the washer and forget to load it.
2. I will gain weight and quit five diets over the next year.
3. I will exercise occasionally.
4. I will drink excessive amounts of coffee this year.
5. I resolve to try new chocolates.
6. I will, at least once this year, mop my kitchen floor.
7. I promise myself that I will find myself stranded without toilet paper at least twice a month.
8. I will stand amazed in front of a mirror at least daily.
9. I will ponder self-improvement tactics.
10. And last but not least, I will be thankful for my readers. God Bless You. Happy New Year!

2006-12-26T21:07:00.000-05:00

What I would like to post cannot be posted due to privacy rights.

If you hugged family yesterday, if you overate and gained weight, if you rehashed old stories with you siblings always with a new twist, Thank God tonight.

If you left with a warm glow, fond memories and more pictures of loved ones to develope... Thank God.

Even if you were harried and stressed, perfecting details and checking yourself twice and again for any missed items... Thank God.

If you had left your family and circle of loved ones and went to work at a hospital on Christmas Night, right now you would be saying...Thank you God.

Spicy Variety!

2006-12-18T16:20:00.000-05:00

Don't you just love variety?

I see it everywhere I look. Take our church for instance. We have the flu, the stomach bug, fever, cough and chills- a plethora of illnesses going around. Never a dull moment while ducking sneezes and dodging coughs.

Variety can be found in the two by two's that God sends to the mission fields. Take Paul and Silas (or in this case Paul and Kenny). I just bet that no two men were more opposite than those two. Paul, bold and tenacious; Silas quiet yet solid. Our own Paul and Kenny couldn't be more opposite. One quiet and to himself, the other a regular social butterfly. The Lord knows how to match things up.

In the seasons, in the weather, in my diets- variety abounds (just like my weight). I try to imagine how dull life would be if everything were constantly the same. If every day was 75 degrees and sunny; if every thought were happy; if my weight was a constant 120...

Okay, maybe some things are good without variety.

Make somebody else's day today- be just who you are. I guarantee you will add some variety to their life.

...bump in the night.

2006-12-14T23:22:00.000-05:00

First, one shot.
Then another. And another.
No- not gun shots. Shooting stars.

In the clear crispness of the winter sky last night, my daughter and I watched a meteor shower on the black bigscreen overhead.

I am not sure whether it was forecast, or God just wanted to show us some more of His glory. All I know is that we watched in awe as the meteors streaked across the sky.

The Lord knows that I am not a cold weather person. I feel like He specially created the winter sky for my enjoyment so I wouldn't completely die from the cold weather blahs. Without pretty flowers and green leaves and trees blooming, I needed something to keep me going. So, He caused me to look up. Way up.

I love to look up and think about what the prophet William Branham said.(Paraphrased) God knows every star in the heavens and he knows their names. He hung them there and told them to stay and they are still there.

When I think of that, I think of how much more he knows me. He directs my path. I am safe in his care. If He can run a universe, surely He can take care of me!

Maybe tonight you feel the winter blah ? Maybe your head is hanging a bit low?
Might I suggest a walk under the stars? There is nothing like the Lord to get us looking up again.

Child Confusions

2006-12-09T13:51:00.000-05:00

Never talk to strangers.

We were all taught that from day one, right? I personally never listened, but Mom tried anyway.

The list grew from there as we aged.

Stay where I can see you.
Hold my hand.
Don't take candy from strangers.

Then, as we were a little older, the girls especially were worned about 'dirty old men'.

So- my thought is...
Why do all these same women pry their children, screaming in terror, off of their necks, and hand them over to a strange man in a red suite who will give them candy and make them set on his lap??

Hmmmm...Something wrong with this picture, don't you think?

Phobic

2006-12-08T10:47:00.000-05:00

I have a phobia of stickiness. I was the child in kindergarten who ate the glue, but didn't play with it.
My phobia starts with hairspray on my neck. It peaks with spilt soda in the crease of my arm. Worse than Chinese water torture if you ask me!
So, how in the world did I ever survive having kids with this little problem ?
Beats me! Lots of wet wipes I guess.
Tonight, I will try once again to conquer this hangup. My daughter and I are hosting a kid's night complete with paints, scissors, candy and my old enemy... glitter glue!
And guess what?
I can't wait!
Even with the sticky part it is going to be great; a room full of long-haired women,kids with scissors, suckers, paint and glue, why- what could possibly go wrong?

Ask me tomorrow.

Belly button piercings.

2006-12-01T17:48:00.000-05:00

I didn't set out for a belly button piercing-
It was just a really bad twist on some rotten luck,
due to bad eyesight, poor lighting and a pot-bellied gut.

The skirt was a button down on the front-
With big gaps between holes due to an enlarged rump.
A safety pin- why surely thats all I need;
Sucking in a deep breath, I started the deed.

In one hand a pin, the other held my roll,
The image in the mirror? Why, I'd never tell a soul.
Then a scream of pain as I missed the target.
That's it- I vowed to keep Weight Watcher's on the market!

What can I do? Would it be considered a sin-
Wearing this skirt, now attached to my skin?
I had worked so hard, the pinning I needed-
And I will be fine, I think, when it finally stops the bleeding!

Real Men

2006-11-30T07:30:00.000-05:00

I watched him strain to get his pants on this morning. He didn't complain even once, but I could tell his back was killing him.
My heart broke.
He will put in a full day- pain or not, for me and our family.
What love.
I see it all around. In those men who work all day in all weather. In men who play with their children after working hard; in men who pray with their families morning and night.
Real men are the ones who sacrifice and don't boast about it.
They don't have the biggest muscles or the best tan. But they are sturdy, rugged, real men. And I appreciate and admire them.
May God bless our husbands today and make us wives truly thankful for them.

Wild Kitty Tantrums

2006-11-28T22:52:00.000-05:00

I feel like I run a rescue for animals.

Somewhere in the woods, there must be a scent trail that says: "Go to the second trailer. She is a sucker for puppy eyes."

That's exactly how I have managed to aquire the neighbor's dog. Puppy eyes. An innocent look on a cold night that said "I'll freeze out here".

Probably. She is a short-haired dog. So now she thinks she lives here with the rest of the animals I have collected. She is a good dog though, unlike my cat at the moment.

Smoky was a model cat until we got him fixed this year. In fixing him, we broke him.
Eat, sleep, meow in that Tomcat voice at 5:00 in the morning. He is pretty much useless. The only thing he still likes to do is carouse the neighborhood at night.

I don't have a problem with his carousing. Or at least, I didn't until the neighbor put out poison all around their place to kill the mice. Well- guess what? It will also kill cats, dogs and others.

Now, Smoky is on in house arrest for his own safety; my sanity is being tested. A male cat with nothing to do- not a good thing! He breaks into fits where he runs the hallways and climbs the walls (literally). Tonight he attacked my dog for no known reason other that to say " Let me out! I can't take it anymore!"

Neither can I.

2006-11-22T15:57:00.000-05:00

Turkey and dressing and potatoes- Oh, MY!

Yep, it's Thanksgiving again. My all time, bar none, favorite holiday ever.
Tomorrow, I will be together with all of my family; a rarity these days for sure. I will see nephews who are now as tall as me. New braces and pimples have replaced pudgy cheeks and new teeth.

I will get to fellowship with my brothers and laugh until my sides ache. For one more blessed moment, I will watch my mom in the kitchen and it will be like I was young again, when me and the boys snatched yeast rolls while mom checked on the turkey.

Tomorrow I will watch my grown sons bringing future daughters-in-law to the table. I will see engagement rings flashed for all to see and I will watch my own young daughter as she dreams of the day one graces her finger.

Tomorrow my long distance truck driving brother will get to sit and drink coffee with me while we discuss desserts and old times. Maybe I will get to hear a good joke or two.

I will relish this time for I know that it won't always be this way. And in my heart I will say, Thank you so much Lord, for one more year with those I hold dear.

The Virus

2006-11-14T09:37:00.000-05:00

My daughter has a virus. I think she caught it from the computer.

Last week my computer ate one of my documents that wasn't finished. It made her very sick. ( It made me sick too. I needed that document.) She started gagging and spitting out Egyptian heiroglyphics and coughing up unwanted ads. I hoped she would get better but it progressed to where she couldn't even print for me. She totally blacked out (taking my Microsoft Word program with her) two nights ago.

I ended up sending her to the in house computer guru, who coaxed and probed until he had her up and running again.

This morning it is my daughter who is gagging and coughing, fever, sore throat, body aches, the whole works. And I am wondering...

Did she eat an undone document too?

So, I'm an idiot?

2006-11-08T08:33:00.000-05:00

"Mom, I got in trouble at school today."

Oh-yeah? What happened?

"I was standing around talking at lunch. All of a sudden, this girl runs up to me, jumps on my back, and bites my neck! It left a mark."

Hmmm...

"Okay, son. Reality check. I am over thirty. I went to public school. And you ain't all that. So, tell me the truth.

Then the truth of the matter comes out. (I kind of wish it hadn't.)

Another example:

"Mom, I have to shave my legs before we go."

Why do you have to shave your legs? You're just going to the rest home.

"But I can't go with hairy legs Mom!"

My thought is...Why?
The people there are at least sixty, most older. You will be playing Bingo, not beach volley ball. Hopefully, you aren't trying to impress one of them! So, where is the urgency in shaving your legs before you go?

Apparently, even though I have a diploma and higher education, my children think I'm an idiot. I look back grudgingly to the time when I thought the same of my parents.
This phenomena starts early, too. Kindergarten even.

"Can I take my pocket knife to school, Mom?"
No Johnny. The school will get mad about that.
"But Mom! Mrs. Prunie said we have to keep our pencils sharp!"

Although the examples get better with age, most of the time I can tell when they are idioting me.(If their lips are moving, there is a good chance you are being idioted.)

And so the battle rages on generation to generation; the idiots vs. the know-it-alls. I look forward to the day when I promote from idiot to 'you were right' and my know-it-all becomes the idiot.

Frankie

2006-11-03T06:57:00.000-05:00

What is up with my dog?

No matter what the weather, no matter the time day or night, no matter the temperature; my dog will faithfully be waiting at the door ready to go out if I open it for her.

Now, I'm wondering- what is she up too?

Blasting out the door, she will convince me that this time she really does 'need to go'. Five minutes should be sufficient to take care of business. However, when I go to call her back in, she has disappeared.

Sometimes it will be five minutes. Sometimes hours later she will return. Always she will have this silly grin on her face.

Did she go tear up the neighbors' trash? Is she out harassing little kids? Perhaps, given her IQ, she is taunting the twin Dobermans across the road. No telling, really. Not with my dog.

So here I sit, waiting, wondering and blogging. Whenever she gets ready, she'll reappear, silly grin plastered on her face. Never telling me where she has been or hinting at what she was up too.

The Top Ten

2006-11-01T16:25:00.000-05:00

Here is a list of my top ten most hated things.

1.) Forwarded emails that promise me blessings if I do and cursings if I dont.

2.) 'Fat clothes' that are too tight.

3.) Diets that don't allow chocolate.

4.) Long phone calls with a short phone cord.

5.) My cat's demanding tone while I am on the throne.

6.) Victoria's Secret Catalogue. ( No secrets there!)

7.) Sleepless nights.

8.) Cellulite.

9.) Rejection letters.

10.) '0' Blog comments.

My bag of treats.

2006-10-30T16:48:00.000-05:00

The little trick or treaters will start knocking soon, filling their bags with assorted teeth rotting goodies.
It all got me to thinking about my bag of treats.
No- not from trick or treating. From Jesus Christ.
I started by throwing all my treats out on the table to sort them out. You know, extra good treats in this pile, yummy in this pile, not so hot treats in that pile. (By the way- my 'not so hot pile was non-existent).
First off, the table broke a leg under the strain. How could an earthly piece of furniture hold what God had filled my sack with?

The biggest pile consisted of assorted sweets such as a happy marriage which means more to me than I can tell. I'll eat on that one for days. Hearing my husband let out an 'amen' in church beside me, holding his hand while we pray..Outside of my salvation that is the most wonderful treat in my bag. I watched that pile fill up as I sorted out my family and the health of my children, brightly wrapped pieces of memory of years watching them grow into young men and women. By now, my candy was falling off the table and the tears were flowing from my eyes.

In another pile were whispers only God had heard. How about that one there- when He found my office key that I had lost of the keyring. Oh- and that one! That piece is where I ran out of gas and he sent an angel by in a semi to help me get home safely. There are several of the same pieces but they are still precious to me, sisters who have spoken a kind word of encouragment, bills getting paid when there was no money, a child's fever broken, a brother bringing me coffee at the car show just cause he loved me.

But what can I do with all this 'candy' that God has handed me? I want to share it with you. Open your goody bag tonight and see what God has put in it. You will come away blessed.

Halloween

2006-10-25T15:48:00.000-05:00

Well, next week marks the big day. Halloween is Tuesday, October 31st. It is All Saints Day in Mexico. A day when Americans follow the Druid traditions of wreaking havoc on any one who does not bow to the demands for candy (back then the demand was for children for sacrifice!). In stark contrast, the Mexicans celebrate by having feast for all their dearly departed.

I don't go for either one of the traditions. However, I love October 31 for another reason. I didn't get tricked, but one of my greatest treats arrived Halloween Day 20 years ago. He weighed in at 8 pounds even, eyes wide open and ready to go. He has been going full force ever since, sometimes scaring the daylights out of me, sometimes surprising me. Always making me proud to be his Mom. Happy Birthday son!

My- how they've grown!

2006-10-17T09:18:00.000-05:00

Well, I must say... I never would have dreamed this for him.

My oldest son put on a badge yesterday and went to work as a law enforcement officer (you don't call them police when they are your children!).
The second son, as we speak, is taking a nuclear test for the Navy today. He want's to study for nuclear medicine. A Navy man and a Police man.

Did you notice that?
Both of them end with 'man'. Not my boys anymore. Fully grown, thinking, self-functioning, working, 'men'.

You know what that means?

I made it through the teenage years!!! Whoopie!(Cartwheels* Cheers* Tears)
Two down- two to go! Take courage out there, Mom's with smaller children.

God Bless the Truckers

2006-10-12T05:29:00.000-05:00

I never gave them much more than a second thought. Except when they were barreling down on my tail on the highway. Maybe a second thought and a few frantic glances when I was sanwiched between two of the big rigs running 100 miles an hour while my little Toyota maxed out a 65.

Since I now have a brother who is a trucker, I pay alot of attention. I am ever on the lookout for a white flatbed with red and blue stripes up the side. Do you know how many there are with those distinguishing marks? Let me tell- more than you can count!

People, including me at one time, think truckers have it made. They make boucoos of money, get to travel and see the sights and meet interesting people. Hmmm...Let me tackle those one by one.

Yes- they make good money. I would to if I were on the clock for five straight days at a time.That is 120 hours a week if my math is right. Divided by say- 500 dollars a week. Whewwee! That is roughly 4.10 cents an hour! We're rolling in the dough now!

Yes- they get to travel. My brother passes by nearly every sight on the East Coast. He doesn't actually get to see them- just roll by them as he hammers down to make his delivery on time.

Yes- last but not least; the interesting people he meets. Let's see- there are the prostitutes and druggies at the truck stops. Then we have the people who want to take your tires and rims while you sit still at the stop light. One thousand little kids who want you to honk your horn so they can get a big laugh.We must never forget the grouchy people to whom you are delivering that load. You know- the ones who just rolled out of bed fifteen minutes ago and grumble at you because they didn't get alot of sleep last night.

Last in the line of the interesting people they occasionally get to meet? Their families. The people who are greatful for what they do and the sacrifices they make. The children who bust down the door to hug Dad, or wait anxiously for their turn to talk with him. And the wives- dedicated strong women who willing get up at all hours for that longed for chat. Wives who will stop their mopping mid-floor and race to the nearest stop just to see that loved one for five minutes while he is passing through.

God Bless our truckers and their families. Love you little brother!

Running from Rejection

2006-10-09T19:14:00.000-05:00

I must be maturing. Finally, at almost 38 years old, I am thinking like an adult.

How do I know this? Because, I can finally handle rejection. Being a writer forces you to realize sooner than later, that you will be rejected. Numerous times. Oh- so many times...

I recieved rejection letter 150 a few days ago. According to statistics I should be on the verge of a sale. Hurray!

But more than writing rejections, I have always had trouble with people rejections. I would try hard to hide what I believed, fearing people would run the other way.

No more. Lately, I have found the Lion's fearlessness. I will boldly tell someone what I believe. Did this come from maturity?

No. I believe God puts us through things to temper us to the occasion. When the occasion comes, He just steps in and does the talking.

I don't know why I was so afraid all those years! If God be for us- who can be against us!

Autumn Musings

2006-10-06T11:32:00.000-05:00

I bought the first hot cocoa of the season yesterday. The weather today seemed to agree with me that it was indeed time. Cool breezes rippled our curtains while gloomy clouds brought my spirits low.

There is a good thing to this weather though. Several good things in fact.

First, my husband will not have to swelter in the weather today while he works (outside). The breezes are sent by God just for him.
Second, if it does rain as the clouds whisper, I will get to enjoy the company of the man who makes my heart beat. He can't work if it rans.
Also, in this cooler, rainy weather, I can slow down; I can enjoy a good book- currently Jodi Piccult's "My Sister's Keeper" and I can sip hot chocolate.

Okay- I can concede that there might be a few good things to saying 'goodbye' to summer and 'hello' to fall.

Here's a toast to rainy, chilly days !

The quiet and the furious.

2006-10-05T05:57:00.000-05:00

How could anyone decribe their lifestyle without using the word 'peaceful'?
A quiet people, humble, who kept to theirselves and supported their own.They didn't make trouble.Peaceful people.

The Amish have been a sense of purity in a desperately wicked country. Now, the evil has rooted them out of hiding and plastered their broken peace on every media coverage available. These people, who don't even want their pictures taken, are now on national and even international news cast, at the mercy of merciless cameras.

I can only imagine what it would take to push someone so far that they would shoot innocent girls, their feet tied, execution style. Helpless girls who lived a sheltered life; who died the most unimaginable deaths. My heart breaks for the parents who are trying to grieve privately while a country invades their lifestyle looking for the scoop.

I can only imagine the wife and children of the shooter. How anguished they must be; a husband, a dad -- gone in shame. The wife too faces a ruthless media which will rake her over the coals of Hell while she tries to cope. In her life, like the Amish, peace will be a long time coming.

All of this makes me long for the everlasting peaceful shores of Home.

Old Man October

2006-10-02T07:03:00.000-05:00

Old man October just blew in through my open windows and made himself comfortable this morning. I awoke to teeth-chattering cold, skittering barefooted over chilly lineoleum to snap windows shut; snuggling my robe a little tighter.
Since our air/heat unit has been on the blitz, we have enjoyed crisp night air and welcome relief from an oppressive summer. I should have known better than to trust the weather. Just when I settle in to enjoy the cool fall weather, a cold snap freezes me and my houseplants stiff as a frozen fishstick.
Darting around in search of heat, I did what Mom done years ago as we waited in the kitchen while readying for school; I turned on the oven and stood in front of it, toasting evenly on each side. Holding up first one foot, then the other, I eventually thawed out my frozen tootsies.
The memories it brought back weren't bad, but rather comforting memories. Sure, it was cold in that farmhouse. I can't really recall the severity though. My mind only brings back Mom, young and beautiful, in her yellow robe, warming up gloves and coats to snuggle us up before we headed to the bus stop.
It is amazing how a warm memory can chase away a thousand chills.
Thank you, Old Man October. And a million thanks to you, MOM.

Where'd she go?

2006-09-20T07:05:00.000-05:00

I remember seeing the ultrasound as the tech scanned my bulging belly. My husband was at my head as they typed on the screen 'I have my Daddy's feet and I am a...g'

She didn't have to finish spelling 'girl'. I couldn't have seen through the tears noway.
A girl.
A daughter.

I had a wonderful time dressing her in frills and fluff, fixing her fine blonde hair and taking her to church. And time passed.

Next week, my beautiful daughter will attend a youth banquet. I have a huge lump in my throat. I won't get to fix her hair for her. I won't help her put on the custom made gown. I offered to go with her but "then it won't be the same Mom."

Independance is a much awaited dread for a mother. I waited for her to be able to dress herself, to fix her hair and brush her own teeth. Paradoxically, we Mom's prepare the children for their lives and break our own hearts in the process. We push them to school and cry when they graduate.

I look around at the young lady before me, full of grace and kindness. She is a Mom's success. Yet, part of me longs to look for the little girl with the big bow in her hair. Part of me longs to say 'Where'd she go so fast?"

I love you daughter. Have a great time. Mom

Sleepin' late.

2006-09-16T04:12:00.000-05:00

"Goodnight!"
Ahhh- those cool sheets and an Autumn breeze; I'd sleep like the dead.
Wrong.
I think I must have ruined it when I told my daughter, "I'm sleeping late. Don't wake me up."
Having been awake early all week to run here or do this and that; all I wanted was a few extra hours of shut eye. So, at 9:30, I toddled my way to the bedroom. By ten I was snoring.
1:14 found me up taking Ibuprofen. Lots of it. Somewhere during my nocturnal bliss a small van had parked on my right shoulder. It was crushed. The pain overrode even the puffy knee that I have limped on for days.
Old age, I guessed as I popped the pills and headed back to bed.
4:00a.m
I always wondered what the 'a.m.' stood for. Almost moving? Already Morte? Another minute? Angry Mother?
Whatever the a.m. stands for; this morning I wasn't appreciating being awake before the sun. 4:00 a.m.- isn't it against the law to be awake at that time? Yet, here I was, giving up on sleeping.
With my good shoulder, I grabbed the coffee pot and poured a wake up shot. When had my body decided to become old? Only old people and fishers were up this early. Only old people ate Ibuprofen like M&M's and rubbed on Ben-Gay instead of Bed, Bath and Beyond lotion.
Pondering through the pain, I was able to answer one of life's long-standing questions : Why do old people go to bed so early?
I have witnessed my Dad hitting the hay as early as 7:30 in the evening. Now I know why. He was up all night the previous night with various aches and pains. This, and the fact that he will probably be eating Tylenol Arthritis by midnight- Hey... I gotta go. It's past my bedtime!

Rushing and remembering.

2006-09-11T09:34:00.000-05:00

Have you felt that chill to the air lately? Thankfully, my house has. Our air-conditioning died (again, second time this year!) about two weeks ago.
My wonderful Lord sent cooler weather with the breakdown and we haven't suffered much at all. I am so grateful it didn't break down when the temperature was in the high 90's. Besides, I love sleeping with the windows open at night.
Besides the weather, have you noticed any other changes? Blushing leaves, school buses, less lawn-mowing? Sure signs that Fall has once again entrapped us, holding us captive for the winter coming. I hear reports of bear sightings almost daily, foraging for winter's nap, little squirrels gobbling up acorns that they will hide, and like me, will forget where they placed them. I also feel that old familiar aching somewhere deep within that this time of the year brings. A melancholy feeling, like another year has slipped by and I couldn't hold on to it.
God knows how to send a healing balm in our depressed times. I see the salve in leaves that look like a box of Fruity Peebles. It is carried in the musky scent of leaf mold and pine wood burning in fireplaces. I am soothed by the thought that soon, with a little grace, I will get to witness a good snowfall. And I know many women, my sister-in-law included, who are soothed and cuddled by the sound of the school bell carrying those little angels away for eight hours of instruction.
Ahhh- take a deep breath and enjoy Fall.

2006-08-18T06:08:00.000-05:00

"Dear Friend,
Although we enjoyed reading your story... blah, blah, blah,..we regret that we are unable to use it at this time. Thank you for your interest in __________."

As a writer, one of the most frustrating aspects is rejection. I hate the rejection letters, no matter how kind they are. Subtle or not, it still says you aren't good enough.

Scales are the same way for me. Though I give it my very best, they still say, "you are overweight". No amount of raquetball seems to sway them. The treadmill is a joke.

Third on the list, and possibly the most frustrating of all rejections are the bank rejections. " Dear Mrs. Fluffy, your account is currently overdrawn. Please make a deposit for X amount of dollars ASAP." And like a toddler caught in the cookies, the bank will then slap your hand with a thirty dollar NSF charge. No matter what your excuse, it is still humiliating to have this happen.

Rejection in any form will spread a mist of gloom on a person. However, all three of the above in one day can make a person want to run amuck ! Then I realized, I will be rejected in this life. But in Jesus, I am already perfected and...accepted. Ahhh.

Old Man Summertime.

2006-08-09T09:22:00.000-05:00

Last night the crickets chirped under a full moon. I know this because I sat outside on my stoop and listened, enjoying one more summer night.
Summer is my favorite season. The hot weather, long sultry nights, gardens putting forth their fruits, I love it. However, along about the end of summer, I start getting the blues. Most years, it starts around September. This year has attacked early.
With the kids heading back to school, my thoughts start shifting to the inevitable winter just around the corner. With great sadness I watch leaves starting to tinge around the edges. Just a few more sunsets and they will be blowing to the ground. I ponder on how many days I really enjoyed of the summer. Did I go swimming more than once? What about camping? Did I ride my bike or take a long walk barefooted?
All the things I love to do, I never seem to have time for and before I know it, summer has slipped by me again.
The irony is that life is the same way. With every passing Fall, I take another step towards old age. Another day closer to creaky joints, wrinkles and thin skin. Did I enjoy the year past? Did I do something that, with the passing of time, I won't be able to do next year?
Perhaps that explains why some people,(I'm thinking of my Dad) refuse to grow old gracefully. They refuse to give in to the aches and pains. I heard a saying once and it still rings true for me.
"I'd rather wear out than rust away!" Lord, help me. I feel the same. Let my knees give out from raquet ball rather than arthritis. Let my heart go from over exertion rather than a sedentary life. And let all my wrinkles be from laughter and a smile rather than a sour, starchy life style!

The food chain.

2006-08-08T19:26:00.000-05:00

She is one "hot tamale"!
I know you've heard that statement before. Maybe you even were the recipient of the compliment. However, if you are like me and 25 is several years in the old rearview, you probably aren't feeling like a hot anything. More like, hmmm... two day old cold lasagne. You know what I mean. Kind of dried up and crusty around the edges, with more than one or two layers underneath. Very unappetizing, hiding in the back of the fridge (or beneath a fluffy bathrobe so nobody will notice how unshapely you've become).
Maybe it is because of my age that I have started to notice these things. And maybe because of my love for food, I can relate the two together.(Maybe there is a connection between food and my shape!) Nah. That's a little to far-fetched.
Anyway, perhaps you have been fighting the effects of aging with diet and exercise. Good for you. You deserve an "atta-boy"! Just remember- one ice cream sundae can wipe out a hundred atta-boys!
I have been working out playing raquet ball five days a week. I am also doing strength training with weights. I have been at this for about two weeks. So far, I feel like a tough piece of over-cooked chicken. You know, lean and stringy and tanned.
The problem is, when I look in the mirror I still see a bowl of potato salad, all lumpy and rounded. That tells me that true beauty really does come from within.

The color of your feelings.

2006-07-31T03:41:00.000-05:00

What color are you today?
Does everyone remember the old mood rings? You know, the stone that changed colors with your mood? I had one when I was 12 and it changed colors like every 15 seconds. (I should have taken that as a warning about coming mood swings)!

I associate feelings with colors. Take blue. Blue is a sad quiet color. It is calm and seems to say "go ahead and cry". Blue can also be a quiet peaceful color.
Red is anger. Hot and mad.
Yellow is that sunny 'not-a-care-in-the-world' feeling.
Gray is that dismal, foreboding feeling. A sense that something bad is on its way.
Then we have my color for yesterday. Black.
Black is the do-not-disturb color. Volatile and bubbling just beneath the surface. I hate the black days.

It is early yet, and as you can well see, sleep eluded me. I pray that today is the sunny yellow day. For me as well as for you.

The French Riviera

2006-07-28T04:45:00.000-05:00

Greetings to all!
My plane landed last night around twelve and yes, I must admit, I hated to come home. After being abroad, this is like a major let down.
France was just wonderful. I am lacking in any words to describe the all the warmth of the beaches, the food that was so incredible to look at and even better to eat. The people were friendly and catered to my every wish. Even my mind feels like it has been on vacation...

Okay- now the truth! I have not been vacationing in France.I did not get to lounge on a warm beach with the ocean singing softly to me, nor did I meet friendly people.
But hey, I know you needed some kind of reason why I haven't blogged in soooo long.
The truth of the matter is that my life has been upside down and so hectic that I actually passed myself coming in last night as I was going out. And the part about my mind feeling like it had been on vacation? Ha! Maybe in Lebanon! I feel like I have been on a trip to Louisianna during hurricane season. If my little brain was lounging on a hammock it has now been blown clean into the far, far reaches of the ocean. It will probably wash up on some shore of some uninhabited island, tired and looking much like a jellyfish on its last tentacles, if you know what I'm saying.

Anyway- I am currently checked in with reality and you should get the blogs a little more regularly. Thanks for patiently waiting while I was away.

A week full of Mondays.

2006-07-04T19:45:00.000-05:00

Sunday I was so brazen I believe I could've went devil hunting with a switch. Now- fast forward to Tuesday when I find myself huddled beside Elijah in the cave, wondering what that old Jezebel is up to now. It has truly been a week full of Monday's.

Just when I think I can swim upstream in Niagra currents, along comes a good swift whirlpool to suck me under.
In one week the heat hits 96 degrees and my car window won't roll down and the air-conditioning is out of freon. The same week I wear my white nursing skirt to work and spill a cup of coffee down the front of it. This is also the week where my nerves cry out for chocolate and low and behold I find out (painfully!) that I have a cavity.

The moral of this story? If you feel the need to go devil hunting- take more than a switch with you!

Happy Independance Day!

2006-07-02T23:33:00.000-05:00

Happy Independance Day fellow Americans!

You may not agree with all that goes on in this country, but there is no better place on Earth than right here in the USA.

I would personally like to thank the soldiers who are still seperated from family and friends this week while I enjoy the freedom to post my thoughts on this blog.

For this week, may all I hear be good. May all I speak be positive. May all Americans thank God for the freedom we still enjoy.

2006-06-28T08:12:00.000-05:00

My brother once said, " Stop the world! I want to get off!"
I know how he felt. Yesterday was like that. It seemed that the first blow sent me staggering. I didn't have time to recover before the second one hit and flattened me out.

Once every so often, I need a good low valley to walk through. It reminds me of how high my mountains stand. Instead of these blows mortally wounding my walk with the Lord, they had the opposite effect; they dropped me to my knees.

I love the song "God wants to hear you sing." When the battle started, that song applied perfectly. There is a line in it that states "...but when troubles come along, and we still sing our song, that is when we bless the Fathers' heart."
I love that. It is easy to sing sometimes. Other times, it is a sacrifice to get the words squeezed out around that knot in your throat, while the tears pour.
I hope I blessed the Fathers' heart yesterday. Even in the bad times, he sure blesses mine.

Whoppers versus Bologna

2006-06-21T03:23:00.000-05:00

You know how you get when you are craving a big, juicy Whopper but you have to settle for a fried bologna sandwich? Well, that's exactly how I felt when I left the play 'Unto These Hills' Friday night. What a big let down!
I expected a tear-jerking rendition of the trail of tears, authentic costumes, real Indian dances, real Indians for goodness sakes!
I think a few members of the cast were actual Cherokee, but the tubby white guy? Hmmm... And the dances? Since when did the natives 'hoe down'?
I was really disappointed with the play, but I had a great time in the mountains anyway. Mom and I did shop 'til we dropped. We bought authentic Indian stuff (I think.) And yes, we did blow our diets. No Whoppers I'm afraid, but we found a great restaraunt right beside the Asheville Farmers Market. It is called 'Moose Restaraunt'. I think that was the best stuffed tomato I have ever had. Resonable too.The vegetables are fresh from the market and mighty tasty. The views of the Blue Ridge Mountains are very nice from the windows along the whole wall. Even the waitresses were friendly! What a rare find.
Best of all though, was the company I kept this weekend with one of my dearest friends, my Mom. She makes life so sweet- even when you end up with bologna!

2006-06-15T09:57:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I am headed off to Cherokee. I know- maybe not the biggest vacation destination ever, but I am thrilled.
I am part Gypsy from my Dad. I love to travel and see things I might have missed. We will explore the Indian Village. We will poke through the shops looking for authentic Indian items made by Chief WigWams wife (in China). No doubt we will break our useless dieting to splurge on some yummy fudge, (free samples- can you resist?).
When night falls we are going to watch the play about our heritage. My grandmother was full blooded Cherokee.I will probably cry watching 'Trail of Tears'. We will reflect on how unfairly the Indians were treated. No doubt our conversation will go in a million different directions from there.
Then, it's sleep in a hotel room ( I always thought that was so cool) and the next morning, we shop 'til we drop.
The best part of absolutely all of this? I get to spend some precious time with one of my very best friends.
I would have just as much fun if we just went to Wal-mart and spent the day. It's not the destination, it's the friends along the way!

On the railroad.

2006-06-11T07:21:00.000-05:00

Have you ever skated down railroad tracks? You know, trying to balance on the metal rails and not fall into the gravel or on the wooden beams. Well, add a good, high mountain bridge over a deep gorge to this adventure. You will have some idea of the week I've had!

The highs? Getting to finally transcribe at home ( a miracle if I ever saw one.)
The Lows? Having my article that was coming out in July in Rambler Magazine canceled at the last minute (made me so mad!)
In the somewhat bumpy areas between I have worked, written, and tried to get my daughter ready to finish school for the summer. She is doing great on her end. I have tried (five times) to start back on my diet. Five times I have failed.

The good news? Today starts a fresh new week full of possibilities. Instead of starting a diet, I took a brisk walk with my dog this morning. I drank two glasses of water in between my coffee fix. And I will eventually learn how to transcribe. Somebody..somewhere..will recognize my writing talents as the next Jan Karon or Pat McManus, (Hey-dream Big!) and I will finally be able to roller skate down these rails without scraping my knees.

But until then....

So, I've got it all figured out now,Lord.

2006-06-08T09:52:00.000-05:00

"So, I've got it all figured out now,Lord. We will go this way with my life, then we'll swerve to the right, and arrive at the answered prayer at precisely 10:00 a.m."

Ever been there? You have everything worked out and, with the exception of breathing, walking and thinking, you don't need the Lords' assistance in this. This one is easy. I can handle this one Lord! You just relax and I'll drive.

Be honest,now. You have been there. So have I. Now I find myself there yet again. Remember several blogs back when I told you I had failed my typing class? That working at home transcribing was apparently not what the Lord had in mind for me? Well- Yet again, I figured out the Lord to soon. Or maybe I didn't give him time to finish answering my prayer to work at home.

Whatever the case, the Lord is gracious. He called me Tuesday with the answer. I had forgotten that I even asked. "Do you still want to transcribe?" Mom asked me.
"Oh yes!"
"Robin (the office manager) said she'd give you a job if you wanted it."
"But how Mom? I didn't take transcription- only terminology."
"It doesn't matter. Looking at the templates and seeing how we do it will help you more than the classes anyway." You know- that 'hands on experience' thing.
"Can I work from home?"
"Yes. We had a girl quit who worked from home and we are covered up!"

Long story shortened: I transcribed my first tape at home on the computer this morning. (Can you see me smiling?)
Oh to be as patient as the Lord is with me!

2006-06-04T04:50:00.000-05:00

We planned all week to go camping this past weekend. To me, the solitude, the campfire and the stars are such complete therapy for the spirit. On Friday my plans were doomed to change.

The thunderstorm warnings started at lunch. I tried to ignore them. Clouds rolled in a little later. My hopes sank with the looming darkness. Phooey!
"Go take a little nap and let me see what I can come up with," my sweetheart said as he ushered me to the bedroom. I was as crabby as a toddler by this time.

When I awoke, we had a babysitter and a new set of plans. He took me to a 'hole-in-the-wall restaraunt where we sat side by side holding hands. We giggled like two teenagers (perhaps Abraham and Sarah?). We stuffed out on Chinese food. He encouraged me to try something new. It was delicious.

When we awoke on Saturday he still had more in his bag of surprises. Rising early, we went and hit the yard sales. Finding a great treasure for ten bucks, we loaded it in our trunks and hurried home.

The rest of the weekend was spent 'camping out, in our living room playing Foozball on our new Foozball table.

A big 'Kudo's!' to everyone out there who takes time to make someone elses day. And a big thanks to my romantic husband!

Singing Holy, Holy, Holy

2006-05-31T04:58:00.000-05:00

I was up before the sun this morning. Quiet times, those hours before dawn. Sometimes they are the sweetest moments I know. As I sat reading, I heard it. The first bird of the day to sing out.
Still dark out, how does that bird know that the night is over? How does it know that morning is coming, when there is yet a sun ray to be seen?
Grabbing a cup of coffee and my Lab, I headed out to the front stoop. Thousands of songs were being sang, like a great symphony, to the Savior. Each song was individual. Tweet, tweet, followed by cheer, cheeeet, cheer, and chip, chip, chip. What was outstanding was the realization that each bird was giving its all, doing its very best to greet the Lord on a new day.
Something was bubbling in my soul. Doesn't the Bible say 'Let everything that hath breath praise ye the Lord?' But what will the neighbors think if they look outside and see you running through your yard, arms flapping, hollering 'Praise God! Hosanna! Thank you Jesus!?
You know what? I just couldn't hold it in. God is so worthy. I at first whispered, "Thank you Lord."
"Are you ashamed of me?" He seemed to ask me.
Oh, that hurt my heart. A little louder I said "Praise God, thank you Lord!"
By the time I was finished, it was a tad louder than I talk in my normal voice.
In my heart though, I am waiting for the day. The day when I just don't care what anyone thinks. The day I run through the yard, flapping my arms, yelling 'Holy, Holy, Holy!" The day that my heart doesn't hide behind a computer screen, but instead goes on full display for all the world to see.
I'm longing for the day that I have as much victory as the humble little birds in my yard.

Fighting for Peace

2006-05-29T07:26:00.000-05:00

With a sword in each hand, we go forward slicing side to side, singing 'Peace, Peace'.
That was the outstanding theme I got from last nights service. It just struck my heart. We are battling this world and all its devils while crying 'Peace'.
On this Memorial Day I am so glad to be a soldier in the right army.
Grab your sword, stick and twist, and sing Peace.

Free Falling

2006-05-27T07:32:00.000-05:00

I decided to go to a popular theme park yesterday. Yes, Memorial Day Weekend, with the race going on, I decide to brave the crowds and bumper to bumper traffic to go to an amusement park with my daughter and her friend. (Crazy? Well, that's debateable.)

We had a great time. Roller coasters, swirling (hurling) rides, junk food, (did I mention crowds?) and heat (Yes, I'm crazy). I noticed something really neat while waiting for the girls to finish riding the TopGun for the fifth time. The younger the child was, the more fearless they seemed. Little kids went willingly to the coasters and held their hands high as they went through the loops and twist.

Children are fearless because they do not know the dangers. To them, the ride is running, so it must be safe. No problem. Holding their hands in the air- they defy their fears and trust completely in the harness holding them in.

Then it came to me: As Christians, we should be the same way. We should hold our hands high in praise and surrender, trusting fully that Jesus Christ will harness us safely in our seats and deliver us right on time to our destination.

Got a loop coming your way? Is there a big hill to climb? Or do you have to go plunging down the hill? Relax. Put a smile on, maybe let out a scream, and hold your hands high!

New Housecleaning Help

2006-05-25T06:30:00.000-05:00

Due to the untimely and sad death of the Good Housekeeping Fairy, I was forced to look for new options. I placed an ad in the Lala Land Gazette stating I was in need of a cleaning person or crew.

Several applied. The Three Billy Goats were to rough, knocking things around with their horns and pushing lamps off the table.
The three little pigs that applied were...well, pigs.
Then there was Rapunzel, but all she really cared about were her looks, always combing her hair and such.
I tried out Hansel and Gretal, but where ever they went they left a trail of crumbs and that just won't do at all.
I think I have finally found the one. A little rough around the edges, but with proper guidance I believe the troll will do well. He is already used to living under bridges, proving he isn't claustraphobic. This is a plus when cleaning my daughters room. He smells; so do my toilets. He is rather clumsy and looks terrible in the mornings; so do I. All in all,I think he will work out well- if he will just quit snatching at the cat.

If you're in need of a cleaner since the death of the Good Fairy, keep the troll in mind.

Whippin's

2006-05-22T13:49:00.000-05:00

It's just not fair!
Huffing, I wrapped my arms around my chest. Great tears loomed, but they were angry tears, not sorrow tears.
How come this is happening to me, Lord? I don't deserve this trial.
Over a three day period this weekend, I threw a temper tantrum, one that on the outside could only be seen by my family. On the inside, I cried and kicked my feet while God watched patiently.
Yesterday, the loving God that He is, He finally had enough of this spoiled brat of a child acting like I was. The sermon He sent last night jerked me up by the seat of my pants.
"I've had just about enough of your pouting, young lady! You either straighten up right now and act like you've got some sense, or I'm gonna jerk a knot in your tail!"
When the Lord put me back down from my shaking, I went up to the alter, totally ready to throw up the white flag. I sure didn't want another whippin'.
So much, I see my life with the Lord Jesus through the eyes of a parent. As I try to train my own children in the right paths, I watch the Lord training me. I need those whippin's just like my own young'uns do, maybe more.
No- the trial wasn't fair. Neither was the cross. He seen I was strong enough to bear the unjustness of it all. Just like Him.
To be like Jesus, to be like Jesus....
That's all I want- just to be like Him.

Public Apology

2006-05-16T12:23:00.000-05:00

I suspected the worst when the laundry piled up and over the top of the hamper. Toilet rolls were left empty, dishes which should have been loaded in the dishwasher days ago toppled off of their stacks on the sticky counters.

Why wasn't the good fairy cleaning my house like she did for Gladys Sparkle next door? Had I done something to offend her? Wasn't I paying top wages? Still, my house was getting worse.

It was in my daughter's room that I noticed the stench. Fowl and putrid, it hung in the air. The scent of ...dirty socks! Gag. I gasped as I noticed a little fairy wing protruding from a pile of crumpled love letters, candy papers and wet towels. She went down like a soldier the impossible mission (to clean a teenagers room!).

I don't know if it was just sheer exhaustion from picking up socks and cups in the livingroom. It might have been the 'Jenga' trash can game that we play. She could have been overwhelmed by the crust formed on plates that people refuse to rinse before leaving in the sink. Whatever the case, we are fully to blame.

If your house is in shambles, I would like to publicly apologize for killing the house cleaning fairy. I am sorry. To make it up to you, I am offering the services of my sister-in-law for all of your cleaning needs. You can reach her at...

I

Repetition

2006-05-08T10:46:00.000-05:00

Whatever we do, we are supposed to stick with it, right? Why is that so hard? When I find something that works, why can't I just keep repeating it? I know- it is a genetic flaw, like webbed toes. My genes won't let keep repeating something over and over, even if it brings good results.

Take exercise as an example. I was doing 15 crunches a day, leg lifts and a few squats when my knees would allow it. I did this every day, religiously, until one day that I missed. From there it was all down hill. Now, it is hit and miss (mostly miss) whether I exercise or not, even though I know it brings good results.

Dieting is the same way. South Beach works great for me. Do you think that will keep me doing it? No. I fell off the wagon and I guess I got caught in one of the spokes because I keep going round and round with it. One day I'm on, the next I'm off. (Today I am on, by the way, and I did my exercises.)

They say the key to being a good writer is to write,write, write. Yet, if I am not inspired by something or someone, I find it almost impossible to write. I go days and weeks without writing. But I really want to be a writer...or do I ? Do I really want to be slim? Toned? If I look at my track record I'd say no. Maybe I just need to be inspired more so that I can stay with the program.

Somehow, repetition just bores me to tears. Breathe out, crunch, hold it, release,repeat. Breathe out, crunch, hold it,release..You get the picture. Write, submit, wait for a reply, repeat. Don't eat that donut,(stuffing, yeast roll, candy bar, ice cream) resist, resist (don't look at it!!!!), repeat...

You are what you eat.

2006-05-07T13:22:00.000-05:00

We've all heard the old saying "you are what you eat'. If this is true why do I eat spaghetti noodles and look like a lasagne noodle?
Why can I gorge on sauteed string beans and look like a brussel sprout?
If I eat lean turkey bacon and still look like pork, then something is wrong with this saying, right?
So here's my idea: Why don't we start eating full fat ice cream so we can look like a celery stalk? Or maybe we'll glutton out on three cheese pasta dishes so we can look like an asparagus.
I'm thinking we're on to something here, how 'bout you?
I'm going to go eat a bag of chips so I can become as wispy as a spring onion top!
Happy eatings!

Hey! That was mine!

2006-05-04T22:19:00.000-05:00

Did you hear the news tonight? It would seem that a woman in Charlotte has been checking packages religiously to ensure that the portions listed on the back are the portions she gets.
An example: If turkey bacon says it has ten slices and five servings, she expects to get five biscuits with two slices each of bacon. She reported to the news casters that several different products came up short. What do they do? Well- they investigate it of course!
Low and behold- it's true. Seven out of ten products tested were short on their portions listed. Okay, that really doesn't concern most people. However, if you are a mom and the package says five frozen icee pops and you only get four and little Johnny doesn't get one... you've got big problems!
Little Johnny might beat up Jack and take his Icee pop and then Jack cries all night, " Mom, waaaah! Johnny took my icee pop, waaah!" Then you end up in the ER with Jack with a black eye and you seeking nerve pills as relief from the incessant whining and Johnny with a belly-ache where Jack let Bobo lick the pop before he did (whew!).
The moral of this story? Don't count your pops in front of the children!

Mother Quest

2006-05-01T06:46:00.000-05:00

I dedicate this blog to my mother, Patricia, for all of her wisdom and lack of wisdom over the years.

It was 6:45 this morning when the phone call woke me. My son was crying on the other end. "Momma- they found my uncle dead this morning."
My heart broke, not so much for the family, as for my son. It was his hurt I was feeling, his loss and confusion. How do we find the words to say to help them through terrible times in life?
As a mother, the only way I know in life is to try to protect my children from hurt and heartbreak. What do we as mothers say when we can't protect them?
When they are sick, we pray, we administer medication,we soothe. We guide them down what we hope are the right paths as they grow, often severing friendships that we deem 'unsafe'. We encourage them in all their endeavors.
This morning I was helpless to fix the problem. No medicine would fix the problem. No amount of leading would help them on this path. It was an awful thing to be so totally helpless.
I thought of my own mother, the very best ever made. How many times had she felt like a failure because she couldn't help us, couldn't fix our problems? You know what? I never seen one time where she failed as a mother. Not once. All I ever saw was a person who I could call at any time, cry on her shoulder, and be comforted. Not fixed- just comforted.
What an honor to be a mother, to get those calls in the wee hours, to know that- even though we are hopeless failures, they still depend on us. They depend on the Christ that they see in us. When they see Christ in us, then of course they see a person who never failed them, no-not even once.

Changing in mid-stream.

2006-04-27T17:52:00.000-05:00

I had it all planned out so perfectly. I would take terminology this semester. Then, for the summer quarter, I would finish up with transcription and viola! I would be set to go with my new home career.

Alas- this was not what the Lord had planned. I failed to plan for the surprise of a pre-requisite. Who would have thought that 45 words per minute would be required to enter transcription? (Not me!)

Guess what? I only type 35 words per minute. Not enough to enter transcription. Good-bye transcription. Good-bye home job. Good-bye, all my careful planning!

Well- I do know that the Lord knows what He's doing. Am I upset? Not really. Although I really want to work from home, I hated terminology. I love writing. Maybe the door that opens next will be to a publishing house!

Until then, I'll keep blogging along. Hope y'all keep reading.

A perfect place

2006-04-25T14:02:00.000-05:00

In a perfect place there would never be a dirty dish waiting its turn in the dishwasher.
There would never be a sock left in the hallway floor unmated, or mysterious candy wrappers laying around with no apparent owner.
In a perfect place the trash can would never overflow, clothes would never pile up beside the bed instead of in the hamper, and toilets would never clog.
In a perfect place, coffee would be ready as soon as I thought of it, the dog would finally catch on to what 'house-trained' means, and the bills would never be past due.
In a perfect place, home-schooled children would automatically understand the base 5 math system, they would clean their room without being told too and they would always be in a good mood.
In a perfect place, the mother would never be crabby after a long day of housework and the husband would remember to put down the lid.
In a perfect place there would never be another visit from 'mother nature' or 'father time'. People would never get a wrinkle or a gray hair. Everyday would be a good hair day.
In a perfect place a person could make it all the way to work without dribbling coffee down the front of a white uniform.
Lord- I'm longing for that perfect place!

Finals, finally!

2006-04-23T22:23:00.000-05:00

What I want to be doing is finishing the very last story for my book. Then I would like to submit it to several publishers and hold my breath while waiting.
What I am doing is completely different from what I want to be doing. I am studying, wasting precious time going over medical terms so I can pass my finals.

Yes, finally I am just about finished with medical terminology. Thank you Lord! I have never dispised a class so much in my life. I have to finish though. I can't quit now.

Why am I doing something I hate? Well- my lifelong dream is to be able to write for a living. However, until I get there I don't want to starve so I have to work. I want to work from home. Thus, medical transcription came to play.

I set my goal to finish medical terminology and transcription so I could work from home while homeschooling my child. I also hope to sneak in enough time to do what I love- writing humor stories.

While I am not crazy about the process to get me to my goal, (studying, testing,reading) I will be delighted with the end results.

If the blog seems a little sluggish, be patient with me as I am finally finishing the finals! We will soon be blogging along normally again.

Happy Day-After-Easter!

2006-04-17T07:50:00.000-05:00

Have you ever been glad that you were broke? I mean flat broke, couldn't buy bubble-gum broke?
I have! Just this morning I woke up rejoicing that I don't have any cash on hand. It just made my heart sing.
What? You think I'm daft?
Well you'd be happy to be broke, too, if you were on Southbeach, couldn't have any sugar at all, and this was the day-after-Easter!
All that chocolate, all those peanut butter eggs (slobber*), and my weakest spot of all, my achilles heel of diet disasters- The Cadbury Eggs! Oh, how I love those Cadbury eggs.
Southbeach allows no sugar so all of the above are big 'no-nos'. Since I have fell off the wagon a little bit, I think I'll just be happy in being broke today and think of all the weight I'll lose instead of all the chocolate I can gain.
To all of you skinny's, Happy-Day-After-Easter candy shopping. To the rest of us, hang in there! The good stuff will get gone today.

It's Time

2006-04-15T06:30:00.000-05:00

I don't go into chat rooms.I have never met any lonely weird people by pressing 'click here' . I must admit though, I do have one internet flaw. I love Ebay.

I can hunt for anything imaginable on ebay, right down to someone's forehead for rent. Last week I looked for lotion for lizard skin. I found it. My hunt this week has to do with the season change.

I want a tent. Not just a tent, I want a big tent and sleeping bags and perhaps an air mattress. It is camping time. Time to load up the car, the kids and the dogs and head for the hills (beach, desert,raceway- whatever your preference).

To me, there is something so relaxing about getting away from civilization. The smell of sourwood burning, the crickets and the open night sky. Reconnecting with loved ones around the campfire-I love it.

Maybe you don't camp. You can still find ways to relax and reconnect. How about pulling out a board game and gathering the family? Break out the bikes and go for a ride.

What? You don't have a board game? Or even a bicycle? Well, hey- no problem! I know the perfect place for you. It is called Ebay...

Mind over mutter.

2006-04-14T05:48:00.000-05:00

Beep*Beep*Beep!
The alarm screeched in my left ear. Hubby fought the covers and finally freed his legs. I pulled a pillow over my head.

Sitting on the edge of the bed for a minute or two seems to be all it takes for some people. They get up,take a shower while singing with the soap, and start dressing, ready for the day. They fix a soda, catch the news and start, you know...functioning.

Meanwhile, the non-morning crew tries to block out the overhead light while thinking. This is where I fail.
Thinking.
My mind wakes up long before my body and starts demanding we get up. "You need to do this and we gotta do that, blah, blah, blah..

Though I try with all my might, it won't shut up and go back to sleep. "Hubby let out the dog," it whispers. "Yeah-so what?" I mutter.
"Well if the dog gets to the road in this morning traffic...
I'm up stumbling through to the back door in my robe. "Shut up Mind! I'm going already."

When the dog is safely inside and I am pulling back the comforter, Mind will start again."What did you say the name of that new story was? We need to be up writing. How are you going to get published if you don't write?"

Hubby leans over and kisses me 'goodbye'( what a brave man!). Then he whistles out the door. The bedroom is quiet, my spot is cozy warm, and the kids are gone for the day. I can sleep as late as I want too.

Mind has finally shut up. Now she is over in the corner, arms crossed, tapping her foot. I can feel her staring at me as I try to ignore her and get back to sleep. Even though she is quiet, I know what she's thinking. I am being condemned for lazing around while others work.

"But I work third shift!" I want to scream. It will be useless though. In her eyes I should be up if the sun is up.

I tromp through to the living room,coffee in hand, I settle down at the screen,ready to let Mind give me all her brilliant opinions. And I wait.
And wait.
And wait.

But to no avail. No ideas, no plots, no characters-nothing. Just the vast empty space of the screen. Apparently my Mind is now blank, having nothing to say.

Finally, after thirty minutes of trying, I give up. Setting the coffee on the counter, I slump back to bed. The covers are still slightly warm. "Ahhhh..

"Are you going to lay in bed all day?" Mind asks. "What about that ton of laundry that needs to be washed? The dog probably needs to go out. Did you ever finish that rough draft? You need to blah,blah,blah..."

Mid-life Thoughts

2006-04-10T07:57:00.000-05:00

Perhaps it was that straggling grey hair that caught my attention. New wrinkles are now noticable on my forehead. Maybe, though, it came from somewhere deeper than the surface.
I talked with my husband. "Darling, we need to have another baby."
Several minutes later the EMS was able to get a pulse on the dear man.

This started with the onset of Spring. Well- the thought has lingered for a good while. Spring just made it more intense. The air warmed up, the birds appeared outside and all of creation just seemed ready to give new life.

In my own body I felt a youthfulness that had lay dormant through the winter. I cut a cartwheel in the yard. ( Several stars orbitted my line of vision and I felt faint, but I did it!)

"If everything else is in full mothering mode, why can't I be?" I pleaded with my husband as he called the shrink. Alas, my answer came this weekend, ironically, with the birthday of my 21 year old son.

In a family gathering we sometimes loose sense of who we are and become part of the bigger 'whole'. Well- the 'whole' was playing some volley ball and I joined them. Leaping and diving, stumbling in the sand and smacking the ball with a a curled fist- oh, it felt great! I could still hold my own with the younger ones. Hey- I am one of the younger ones- who cares what my age says?

Later that night I struggled to get my knee to bend. Apparently all the activety had swelled out the old injuries. I tried to push myself over in the bed instead of using my knee. The wrist that I hyper-extended during the game didn't have the strength to lift me so I just laid there, helpless. When the old bladder couldn't wait another moment I managed to roll out of bed. Pain shot up between my shoulders from my aching back. My knee wouldn't bear any weight so I had to hop, hunched over, on one leg to the toilet.

Hmmm...How in the world will I hop,one-legged, to the toilet when I am eight months pregnant? Can a woman deliver a child when her spine is frozen into a question mark? Will I see stars during delivery? (Or angels?)

Okay- the sad reality is that my youth is slipping away. There are things I can no longer do (safely). The good part is that with the 'maturing' (what a nice word, don't you think?) of my body, my mind has grown up too. I realize my limits physically. It seems that now, though, my opportunities are limitless. I have time to think and write. I can appreciate a stable life and a wonderful husband. I like the profession I've gone into. Instead of cradling a baby, now I can embrace things my husband and I have long put on the shelf. Ah, sweet maturity at last.

Since no child will be forthcoming due to our age, we hope to see you all at church next week. We will be the couple riding in on the motorcycle!

Never Grow Old!

Prizefighters

2006-04-05T04:22:00.000-05:00

In this corner, weighing in at 135 pounds-Sharon 'the Queeeeen!!!!(Roars* cheers* applause). Getting out of bed and grabbing my robe, I swipe a couple of blows at the air and prepare for round one.
And in this corner, weighing in at whatever it takes,Satan 'the deffffeeeatedddd!'.(Every demon in Hell stands and cheers.) The room shakes with the thunderous support of my opponent's fans.
No fair fight in this arena. Before I can get down a cup of coffee, my adversary has done struck a reeling blow. My mind goes a thousand different directions. Mental anguish starts to set in. Why did I come back into this ring?
That's when I hear it. Do you hear it this morning? Listen close. Hanging over the banisters of Glory I hear Brother David Mammalous saying "press the battle little sister!" Sister Dixie chimes in " Put on your armour Sis- this fight is already won!"
The prize fighters of all ages, Paul, Peter ( the one who I surely see myself identified with) Mary, and the little Sister at the well; all of those everyday featherweights of old are shaking Heaven with encouragement.
Standing tall and feeling like who I really am, the very Queen of Heaven, I deliver a death strike to Satan. I throw my spiritual fist up and , right in the old dragon's face I say " Be it unto me Lord, according to your word."
Wham! Watch him stagger around! Haha, take that you old devil. How bout this one: " Lord, I believe your Word."
Oh man- my enemy is on his knees now. He tries a feeble strike. Doesn't even touch me. I look over to my trainer. Sitting in the corner, the undefeated champion of all times, Jesus Christ, The Lion of the Tribe of Judah, smiles at me. His look says "finish Him off, honey- it's just about time to go home."
Gladly, Lord.
Today, I pray you step forward in the robe of His righteousness like the undefeated prize fighter that you are.

Spring Forth

2006-04-02T14:46:00.000-05:00

Well here it is- April already. I can hardly believe we are four months into a new year. Did you make any resolutions in January? If so- how are you doing with them?
Does the Spring weather make you stick to your walking-every-day resolution? And how about that south beach diet? Are you still avoiding cookies? (Okay I really slipped up on that one but I have got right back on the wagon.)

Even if you didn't make any resolutions, Spring is sure to get you thinking of things you need to get done. When I see all the changes taking place, flowers blooming, birds building homes for tiny families, even pesky flys appearing, it always causes me to take inventory. I look at all the life springing forth, then at my own life. Am I carrying out my purpose here?

The birds sing to me every morning. That is their purpose and it really blesses me. The flowers smell so nice and their scent lifts my spirits. That is their purpose. In the Spring my soul seems to rejoice a little more than the other times of the year. I can feel my own personal resurrection. Just a yearning to be closer to Jesus, to be a little more well pleasing to my Creator.

If you've found yourself kind of way-laid by winters blahs, take heart! Spring is here at last. Shake off the doldrums and burst forth with new life. That's what I plan to do in all the lagging areas of my life. (A few more cookies and I will certainly 'burst' forth.)

2006-03-27T07:50:00.000-05:00

Seven-thirty a.m.
Here I am, dressed and ready to go walking. My partner reminded me last night " be sure to be ready." Where is my partner now? Lazy thing! She's still in the bed.
My daughter is like me; alot more gung-ho about things in the evenings than early in the morning. Still, I was going to go through with this craziness, becoming one with the huddled masses of over weight women who endure great pain to .. blow out their knee? Or to look stupid in sweat bands. To end up with fallen arches.
Certainly not many ever succeed at losing the weight and keeping it off. One in twenty maybe?
What I would rather be doing is sleeping. But now that I am fully awake, sweat bands in place, jogging shoes on, I shall go solo to take the dog for a trot. Maybe this will be the start of something wonderful. Me and Grace (my dog) doing laps around the neighborhood, smiling and waving at the neighbors as we pant by. (Do you hear Mr. Rogers music playing?) Or, this may be the beginning of reality. I will probably tell my walking partner "not a chance!" when she asks me to get up early again.

What are you waiting for?

2006-03-26T07:23:00.000-05:00

Three more chapters, the finals, and I am done with medical terminology.
Several more mailings, waiting by the mailbox, checking my email daily, and one day- someone will publish my book.
Twenty more pounds to go and I will reach my goal weight of ***. (You didn't really think I'd tell you that did you?)

Then- I read this mornings headlines. "San Francisco Bay faultline locked and loaded." Suddenly, my focus is crystal clear. I am not thinking about writing. My weight- I could care less. Terminology? What terminology? All of the things that conquer my time and eat away at my days are so unimportant now.

No- I am not an earthquakeaphobe. I don't sit around watching for the big one and biting my nails. But I do know that a big one will come. I know that when Jesus arose a big one hit town. I also know that many of the saints were shaken plumb out of the graves they were sleeping in when Jesus arose. They got up and went home with Him.

I do know- from all the signs, earthquakes, people going insane, famines, pestilence- I know it's almost home time. Supper is almost ready. Terminology? Flunk me. A book deal? Keep it ( hey, you can keep the book too). Weight loss goal? Forget about it! I'm going to the Wedding Supper.

Works hard. No pay required.

2006-03-25T09:26:00.000-05:00

She landed on the handle of the lawn mower, her brown eyes flitting cautiously.
In her beak, a wriggling bug was soon to be lunch. I wasn't even aware she'd laid eggs yet.

Her home is safe inside a discarded mailbox that I use for decoration. When I found the nest in progress I tried to discourage her efforts . Kitty Joe would love to have young birds for neighbors. Try as I might, she built it anyway.

Appearing this morning with the food, I figured the little ones had arrived. She will work her little brown feathers to a fringe just to feed them. She will shoot out of the mailbox like a shot fired everytime I open the door. Hovering nearby, I will hear her angry calls as she tries to lure me away from her home. Day and night for a few weeks she will be as devoted as any good mother, always watching, trying to protect the young.

One day all to soon, the last little feathered chick will fly away, never to return to mom. She will pack up the remants and leave the nest, probably too heart-broken to stay in the empty house. Next year, she will go through all the hurt and sorrow again.

Next week, my baby will turn legal age. I know how that little Momma feels. I fed. I hovered. I watched from a nearby branch. Finally, I am watching them fly away on the winds of college, careers and their own families. Still, like the little wren, my heart aches for what was. And like the wren, I sometimes long to start fresh with another nest next year...

March

2006-03-20T11:42:00.000-05:00

She comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb- or is it said the other way of March? I never could get that right.
You get the idea though. One minute the day is docile, warm and gentle. Puffy clouds float through the blue sky without a care. The next day, winter has doubled back on his course, roaring through with icy fingers . The plants who sat the day before on the porch steps basking in the sun are now withered from an unexpected frost.
It has occured to me that my moods may have blown in on the same clouds. One day I am floating with the gentle clouds, humming while I wash clothes. I listen to the birds and find my own heart singing Spring songs. Then, Bam! Out of nowhere, the Lion side comes growling through, destroying all in its path. Ill tempered, I go through the house swiping powerful claws at the messes, ranting at the people in my den, and threatning to eat my young.
Where did this come from? I let out a long sigh, (or a rumbling growl, depending on the mood) and wait for April when all the cliches of March will be behind me.
Oh wait. What is April's cliche? April showers? Gads! Skip April-bring on the May flowers, Please!

What if...

2006-03-17T07:26:00.000-05:00

What if people could come fully awake in the mornings just from smelling coffee? No more drips down the front of work clothes while we fight traffic.
What if women could lose weight just from reading about the latest diet in the newstand magazine? Think of the time we could save on those exercise videos! (Maybe we could use the extra time to find a good deal on Oreo's).
What if we could get our teenagers to believe that we had their best interest at heart? That we really did know what we were talking about.
Think of all the money we would save on nerve medicine and blood pressure pills!

Life Happens

2006-03-11T08:12:00.000-05:00

Yesterday evening my sister and I enjoyed a few laps around the track at the local 'Y'. Such a pleasant night, the weather was beautiful and the stars were bright.I love walking, especially with great conversation.
Have you ever heard the saying, 'Life is what happens in between all the events?' So true! Strolling in the night air, I found 'life', real life, going on. My life is not about the births of my children though I love them with all my heart. It isn't about how many birthday cook-outs I share with Mom. It isn't about all the Christmas past or the big wedding day. All of these are important, precious memories. My life though is the talk about butterflies with my daughter. It is marked by the time my son tripped across a dog and broke his arm. When I think of 'life' I remember the sweet way my husband sold aluminum cans to get the money to come and see me.
Life is what happens in between all the events. Between birth and graduation there will be many butterfly talks. Between kindergarten and becoming parents there will be rollerskating, PTA's, and coloring for the refridgerator.
It is important that while we are planning for the future events, we don't miss the 'life' going on all around us.
Enjoy your life today. Don't miss the small happenings.

Peaceful responses from God

2006-03-05T08:07:00.000-05:00

What a week this past week has been.My family drove the road to Rutherford at least ten times up and back. We took turns setting by the bedside of a dying loved one, comforting the family, and sleeping in shifts. We mourned at the viewing, then I mourned alone as my husband and daughter made their way to Georgia for the burial. I had to stay behind to work.
Satan never leaves his work though, and thought it a great time to do some more damage while the family was apart. Another friend passed on, a brother in the Lord passed on, and a school buddy of one of my sons died tragically. Four deaths in one week.
My heart just seemed to be drooping,and my mind working double time on negative thoughts. My countenance was sad. I am a deep thinker and my pastor has warned me about this. Deep thinkers tend to get depressed easily.It is very hard to change your make-up though.
This morning, (thankfully it is Sunday morning), I am up very early. Instead of getting ready to do this and that in preparation for the day ahead, I grab my coffee and head outside. Setting on my front porch steps, I am greeted by a huge yellow lab who has decided he likes my place and wants to call it home.
The sun is warm and bright even though my steps are cold on bare feet. Looking around I spot a yard teeming with pairs of robins, Spring heralders if ever I knew one.Here and there, wild onions are sprouting up, there deep green tentacles dotting my yard. Little purple flowers in vast patches paint the fields surrounding us.
Suddenly, I realize all of this new life going on around me is for my sake alone. Once again God is comforting me, letting me know that the universe is His and He alone is in control. Sickness may come, death may strike, heartaches might abound- but He is still in control.I can trust Him, come what may. I have tried Him and found Him faithful.
Sipping my coffee, I think of the song a brother sings. "There'll be another Spring." Yes- there will. But for now, God respondes to my lowness with a Spring to lift me back to my feet, until my feet touch the shores of home, where Spring is eternal.

The drunken butterfly syndrome

2006-03-02T09:01:00.000-05:00

The dishes are piled so high I can't even get to the faucet. Okay, I need to wash the dishes. So I start running water and put the clothes in the washer. I want to listen to a tape so I pilfer through my drawers and desk, trying to find what I want. Wow, these drawers are terrible. Look at the jumble of junk falling out of them. I must clean these up. So I drag out the vaccume, plug it in and start moving my computer.
What? You don't follow what I am doing? Welcome to the happy club. I don't either. Days like this are what I call my 'drunken butterfly syndrome' days. Days where I can't seem to focus on one specific task. I flitter here and there, starting projects only to flutter away to my next 'flower'.
I really did start out this morning to clean the house while my family is away. So far I have accomplished moving my computer. That's about it. I have been hard at it for at least two hours and that is all I have accomplished. Once I moved the computer, I figured I'd better see if I had it connected right. I got online. It works. Well- might as well check the old email...
As you can see, the old butterfly has sipped on one too many nectars this morning. Now I am exhausted and to content to fly to my next task - those pesky dishes. Dishes! Did I leave that water running?! Hold on while I turn that off- ohhh- is that the new edition of Writer's Digest on the counter?...

2006-03-01T07:41:00.000-05:00

A Headshot?
Hmmm.. well, I really don't think I want to do that. Images conjure up in my bumpkin brain. Why are they wanting a headshot? I haven't done anything to them. Flashes of someone punching me in the face, or possibly shooting me in the head, are causing my heart to palpitate!
Finally, the smarter members of my circle inform me that a 'headshot' is actually a picture of myself from the head up. Well- Thank the Lord! I won't be shot and they won't see my hips.
Now, you would think the rest of the headshot fiasco would be a breeze. Not so! Our digi-cam is..well, let's just say it is less than a Canon, by a far cry. And since we didn't have batteries in the house to fit it, we had to use it 'as is'.
That means my husband crouched to various yoga poses to get a shot at me. The cord only went a foot from camera to computer so my darling was huddled against our computer shouting things like "move closer, sit straight, be still- smile!".
The shots were less than flattering. Rows of pics of double-chins, a glowing forehead, shiny nose and plastic smiles- my ego took a beating. After deciding on a decent portrayal, we figured out how to send it 'jpeg' and held our breath, waiting.
The answering email asked " Do you have another picture? This one is a bit small and blurry." Tears puddled up. My husband started to cry. At this point a headshot with a fist would have been much kinder.
My sister saved the day. She emailed me an older (kinder) picture that she had stashed in the archives. I am less wrinkly, my color is better, and my gray is gone.(I think she may have touched it up). Okay- so it was a little bit off from what I actually look like now. A bit decieving perhaps. I bet lots of people send in their high-school pictures!

Sugar-High Celebration

2006-02-28T10:56:00.000-05:00

Pop open that full sugar Sundrop and hand me a chocolate eclair. Somebody out there cut us a kartwheel. (I would, but the belly fat would fall over my face, possibly smothering me).
Yes- I am celebrating. Today I recieved the notice that one of my stories will be published in a national magazine. The best part? I am being PAID for this! (cheers* claps*) Okay- the pay won't take me to the Bahamas; still, I feel like a millionaire right now.
My story will be in Dabblingmum under the section 'Family Game Night'. I think it will be out next week. I have listed their link . Check it out. This is a great magazine for parents.
Sit back, eat a doughnut for me, and enjoy your day as much as I am.

The Secret Word is....

2006-02-24T07:14:00.000-05:00

"You Big Fat Liar," my computer screen flashed at me in red letters.
Okay- maybe it didn't say that exactly. What it really said was 'Invalid Entry'.
Invalid Entry? Are you crazy? I know my mother's maiden name and that is not and Invalid Entry!

The screen just set there looking at me with its one big blue eye. It seemed to tease me; taunting 'whatcha gonna do about it, huh?'
Hmm? What am I going to do about it? I have reasoned with an inanimate object for the last fifteen minutes.It still claims I have a wrong password and do not even know my own mother's maiden name.

One more attempt.I carefully type in Mom's last name.The sign flashes up, only to be replaced by another this time. It reads- "You have exceeded the maximum number of attempts at a password. Please wait 24 hours before trying again."

Fine! I didn't want to pay my stupid phone bill anyway! I click off of the screen, nearly tipping my mouse and a cup of hot coffee off of the desk. Whose bright idea were passwords anyway? Nowadays you have to have a password for everything. You can't bank, clock in at work, access the internet, or pay your bills without a password. What about those of us who are memory-challenged? I can't remember the names of my children most of the time.

Okay- maybe I am ranting a bit. Maybe they are useful in some instances. Maybe I don't want anyone else to see how much I owe the power company.Perhaps I would be embarrased if anyone saw the scanty balance in my checking account. However- a password to be able to PAY a bill? Come on! I don't know one person who would be upset if a hacker got into their phone bill to pay off the balance. I personally wouldn't even prosecute the poor sap who broke security to zero my balance with the mortgage company.

Here is my idea. Why not a have a password required to access the balance owed, but free access to online payment. No? Then how 'bout I give my password to any and all who are interested in paying my bills?

Hey- that's a great idea! Only- I can't remember my password !

Weathermen- aka fibbers!

2006-02-11T18:37:00.001-05:00

Once again they hyped it up. Once again they reeled me in. I am sick to death of weather men and their empty promises.

What if everytime one of those fibbers told a snow-lie they turned to a potato? Why-we'd have tater-heads everywhere! What if we got to give them two lashes with a wet buttered noodle every time they decieved us?

We'd have whipped taters and butter! All in favor say 'AYE'.

Mind Mushes

2006-02-06T09:50:00.000-05:00

Well it's a good thing that I am not one of those people who thinks they have everything coming and going. Taking this terminology class (complete with graphic pictures) I have discovered alot of symptoms.My family better have great insurance coverage.
I found that I am covered head to toe with 'xeroderma'. Yikes! (The good news is that 'dry skin' is easily remedied with lotion.)My poor little niece suffers from 'onychophagia'. Sounds terrible right? It means she bites her nails. Almost all of my friends and I have battled being 'lipoid'. It translates to 'resembling fat'. Resembling? I could be it's twin!
All of this mind mush did produce a happy thought though. Often we are faced with things that sound terrible and look hopeless. Most of the time they are just big-winded names for little trials. Have a great day!

Prayer and Peace

2006-01-27T01:11:00.000-05:00

I couldn't tell you what it was. One moment, I was snoring. The next, I was wide awake. I can tell you though, I know what that feeling was. It was the urgent need to pray and pray quick.
"Who is it Lord? One of my children? Mom? Dad?" I prayed right there in the bed. I read for a little bit. Still no relief. Getting up, I paced through the house, finally ending up in the living room floor hugging my knees and praying again.
Still no peace. I called my second son. One o' clock in the morning and I'm on the phone. Motherhood knows no time limits.I will wake up every county in a sixty mile radius for one of my 'dibbies'.
Assured that he was alright and so was the oldest and the youngest, that only left the middle child. But that wasn't it. I could just tell that it wasn't that.
As I made my way to you guys, I asked the Lord if maybe it was someone I didn't know- maybe a car wreck or something.
As sure as I sit here now, it came to me. A prayer request that was put up in church last week for a dying mother who was leaving behind two children, one of them a teenager. I knew that was it. She was who I was supposed to be praying for. If you are a mother, your heart can only imagine how she feels, leaving behind her babies, her task unfinished.
All I can say is that when God puts someone on my heart, there is a reason. I believe in this case it is so He can heal her body and soul. After the prayer, there was peace. Sweet peace that passes all understanding.
I am going back to bed.Sleep well. Peacefully.

Would you be happier?

2006-01-20T14:38:00.000-05:00

I have a unique daughter. She is a happy teenager. "I love being tall," she says repeatedly. "Mom, I have reddish highlights. Cool!" She is unique in that she is satisfied with how she is formed.

How wonderful to be totally satisfied with how God made her. I used to want to be shorter, petiter, blonde, skinnier, etc. I was never satisfied.

Now, I look at my life through her eyes. If I were slimmer, blonde, younger; would I be a better person? Would people like me more? I might feel better about myself. Would that be good? I may get heady, high-minded and proud.

What about if I were rich? Would that make me more satisfied with life? Looking around at the health the Lord has blessed me with, a job I love, children who daily amaze me, a sound mind- I'm already rich beyond my wildest desires. Sure- I would like to not have to worry about cut-offs and late fees. Would I ever cry out to God to help me if I didn't struggle? No, probably not.

Look around you today. What would make you happier, truly happier? I am guessing if we all look hard, we will find that we are happy. We would find that what we think would make us happier may only be a deterent in our walks.

Here's wishing all of you, my friends, a happier day.

2006-01-18T22:41:00.000-05:00

January is a month chocked full of happenings.
It is 'sanctity of life' month. Hug your child.
It is breast cancer awareness month.
Have your mammies grammed.
It is the start of a New Year.
Are you keeping your resolutions?
January is one of our best months for snow.
What's up with that?
January holds fame to MLK day and my daughter's birthday.
I have big dreams for her.
January is a month just perfect for:
cuddling up with a book.
cuddling up with a child.
cuddling up with a new puppy.
cuddling up with a book, a child, and a new puppy.
It is a month for :
hot, homemade soup and cornbread.
hot chocolate.
hot soaks in a tub.
It is perfect for gazing at the flakes
(both falling, and running around loose!)
Enjoy January. Relax. Spring is on its way.

Royalty

2006-01-15T16:04:00.000-05:00

When you were little
did you want to be a princess when you grew up?
I did. and I did.(become a princess.)

as I walk through my house now, I find that I am royalty. crowds throng around me. even my next footstep is hard to take for the parade .

I just smile and wave to my humble admirers,
shooing them away so I can refill their food
dish and set out fresh water.

Careful what you want to be when you grow up!

Homeschool Teacher On Drugs

2006-01-10T14:05:00.000-05:00

Recently a homeschool teacher was arrested and jailed for being drugged while teaching junior high English.
Apparently there was some confusion and it was later proved that the woman in question was not on drugs.
Student Uneeda Grace called the local police when she found her teacher smiling and slobbering in the corner of their homeschool kitchen. Glassy-eyed and dazed, all the teacher could do was mumble something incoherent about predicate nominatives to whom and what, some kind of gibberish about indirect objects and occasionally, the repeated words is, am , was, will be and had been.
After several hours and a drug test, it was proven the woman was innocent. Her stupor was caused from days of diagraming sentences.The only charge filed, cruelty to Junior High students, was dropped on the grounds of insanity.
The teacher, who is unnamed to protect her student, remains in a quiet room today coloring with fat crayons and humming softly 'Twinkle ,twinkle, little star...
Footnote to all of the homeschooling mothers : Beware of these 'new-age' language drugs. While they are not addictive, they are deadly the first time you use them!

Mother Attacked

2006-01-07T09:50:00.000-05:00

Did you hear about that poor mother? I could've cried.
Apparently, she entered a forbidden zone unknowingly (the teenager's bedroom). Anyway- she was viciously attacked by a snarling pile of laundry which wrapped around her legs and threw her down.
Upon falling, she landed in the unmade bed amidst a mound of stuffed animals and dirty socks.
Unable to free herself from the vine of skirts and dirty unmentionables that entrapped her, she was able to survive for three days until her family noticed her missing (when they no longer found the sink for the dishes). A supply of stale Cheez-Its and a bag of jelly beans tucked in between the mattress and bed rails provided nourishment.Three cups half full of water, sat on the headrail.

"It was almost like a vacation'" stated the mom, who wished to remain anonymous. "I found the book I'd been reading months ago stuffed in a pillow case. All I could do was eat junk food, read my book and sleep. Every time my daughter would come in, I'd try to get her attention, but with her headphones on she never heard me. Lord only knows what would have happened to me if the family hadn't run out of milk and clean plates."

Mother's beware- it's a jungle in there!

Successes

2006-01-06T08:19:00.000-05:00

Well- here we are.Another new year, more resolutions, many regrets of things not accomplished on the last list.
This year I am very happy to announce success.
By finally finding a diet that works for me, I was able to lose 20 pounds this year. It feels great.
Minus a few technical bumps along the road, I have been able to keep blogging.
I am still writing my great American novel and I have even joined a writer's group.
Looking back, I can call 2005 a success. You can too if you look at the victories instead of the failures.
2006, if we last that long, will also be a success.
Put your chin up, grab that diet soda- and go start succeeding!

Coal Mine Treasures

2006-01-04T08:09:00.000-05:00

S. Sizemore, 28
D. Gillispie, 37
The names rolled off slowly, like someone dropping nickels on a lineoleum floor.
B. Farmer, 39
Children clung to their mothers. Women, eyes swollen and blood-shot, fainted as the ones they loved, shared lives and dreams with, were listed among the dead.

The names above are people I had the great honor of meeting during my brief interim in Beckley, Stocco, and Odd, West Virginia.
Maybe their familes were not affected by the tragedy in the Sago Coal Mines. I guarantee they are mourning.In West Virginia coal mining towns, people are truly family. When one falls, all cry. When one rejoices, the others cheer.

I was twelve when I witnessed the kind-hearted spirit of these people many times over. One event stands out with clarity.
It was so bitter cold that winter. Dad, not a coal miner, couldn't find work. We were dangerously low on heat. The old farmhouse windows rattled in the howling wind and frigid air breathed on us children who were huddled over the furnace grate.
I remember a knock on our door, Daddy's tears, Donny Delp's shy smile,and the house soon warming up. Donny- our coal mining neighbor, had blasted coal up in the mountain, shoveled it onto the back of his rusty truck, and emptied it, with Dad's appreciative help, under our coal shed. He was not asked. He refused any type of payment ( we didn't have any to offer), and he blushed profusely when Dad hugged him and cried.

I went to school with coal-miners' children. I watched them cry when a dad or granddad died from black lung. Poor? Dirt poor. The mines had went on strike in the 80's. No work around. For dress up day at school, I donned a tee-shirt, work boots, and soot from the furnace and went as a miner.

I rejoiced and thanked the Lord that the twelve were found alive this morning. Then, I sat stunned at my computer. A mistake? All twelve dead? One in critical condition? Oh- Lord Jesus- have mercy on these precious families.
Donny- are you okay? What about you Sam? Dana? Dana! are you still among the living?

I'm sure the names will soon be listed. No matter the name called; I will hear only 'beloved friend', 'father of schoolmate', 'kind-hearted neighbor'. Pray for these families.

2005-12-11T04:04:00.000-05:00

The lonesome tick tick ticking of the clock in the kitchen. A steady hum from the fan on my computer. Occasionally, a quiet 'meow' as wittycat gently puts his paw on my leg.

These are the noises of silence. Only heard at night, when darkness shushes everything else. Only in this time do I notice the faintest 'click' as the heat pump starts. I catch the sound of creaking as the air ducts heat up under the house. I hope fervently that is an air duct I hear!

It will be in this surrounding shroud of silence that your heart will yell things that through a busy day were only whispers. In daylight, he will lay silent, waiting his turn amid chores, a job, a thousand other voices screaming to be heard. But at night he waits no more. This is his turn. You won't turn him off.

Only in silence will you hear things that have needed to be said. Only in the void of anything will everything become crystal clear. And most of the time, it will take silence for us to finally hear clearly.

Common Scents

2005-12-09T02:18:00.000-05:00

"They found her over there officer," he said, pointing to the rocker where Momma sat.
She was all googly-eyed and appeared intoxicated." He shook his head in shame.
"Jest look at her. Those glassy eye-balls, those wax teeth! Shame on you Momma!"
Momma just toasted her humiliated son with the can of Christmas Pine Glade she'd been sniffing and went on trying to lick the Sugar Cookie wax tart out of the burner.
" Hits that dern diet she's been on. No sugar. No carbs. She's been livin' off of beef. "
He looked at his pitiful Mom. "I guess the scents of the holidays finally got to her."
The officer shook his head in understanding. "Another case of South Beach Diet Desperation.
Bound to happen with all these good smells going on. Feed her a couple of chocolate cherries and
a cookie. She'll be fine in the morning."

When I was Young

2005-12-04T09:21:00.000-05:00

When I was young
I awoke to a house
that smelled of woodsmoke.
Today, I wake to the clicking
of central heat.

When I was young
I bounced out of bed
ready to face the day.
Today, I crawl out,
my ankles and knees hurting
and stiff.

When I was young
breakfast was sugar cereal,
juice and cartoons.
Today, breakfast is
whole wheat, skim milk
and the Wall Street Journal.

It used to be that
on Saturdays I earned spending money.
Now, I work every day for bills.

My worst fear used to be
wrecking my bike coming down
Mt. Kilkid with no brakes.
Now, my worst fear is my
grown children will be in
a car wreck.

When I was young
Heaven was far, far away
and Jesus was smiling at me.
Today, Heaven is very close.
And Jesus is still smiling at me!

Grandma's House.

2005-12-03T00:28:00.000-05:00

Tis the season! Jingle bells should actually be 'juggle bills'. Grandma got run over by a reindeer? No , she got run over by a guy with a shopping cart so he could get the Xbox 360 she was holding.
Great deals on those sweaters, though. Man! Half-price! To bad you won't be able to wear them. Come on- with all the eggnog and cookies you've gobbled? I'm guessing we will need mumu's!
But the family get together went well.
Well- except for little Jeffrey getting sick all over the new carpet. Must a been all the chocolate in his stocking.Now on our stockings too!
And the little tension between Hilary and her sister-in-law. I tried to overlook the daggers they were throwing and to dodge the low-blow insults. It was a pretty good time, although I feel kind of queasy after aunt Matilda's Broccoli Berry Pie.
Who could've ever guessed that the mystery gift swap would cause half the family to leave in a huff? I really don't think uncle Larry intended to give his sister-in-law a 'cooking for dummies' cookbook. Just a freak accident. She took it all wrong.
But everyone would have to agree that we had fun this holiday season. I will never forget the image in my mind of Grandma. A smile on her face and a microphone in her hand. Bless her heart- she can't help she can't see anymore. And she gives used toys. It is the thought that counts. I can still hear her. " Frankies boy," she yells into the mic. "Where is Frankies boy? " She anxiously holds the gift.
"Mom," my uncle Henry speaks to her good ear. " Frankie has a girl."
Never mind. Frankies twelve year old daugther got a spiffy set of cowboy boots. And a badge too.
Danielle, the fifteen year old, gets a talking book with buttons that make sounds like farm animals. Only- the buttons are missing.
Ah- Grandma's karaoke Christmas. Irreplacible memories!
Enjoy the holidays. At least get a laugh out of them.

Computer Problems

2005-11-30T22:21:00.000-05:00

Well, as if having children weren't enough, now I am also having blog problems. Do you think it's fair to have more than one problem at a time?
Anyway- it seems that somehow I messed up my blog site and it would not accept any comments. I hope I have it fixed now. If not , I am liable to pull my hairs out one-by-one and stack them on the table! I am not a computer guru.
Y'all, all I can say is try it and see. My apologies for the inconveniences. I know you all were lamenting not being able to leave all those wonderful comments! haha.

Cold Kitties and Sleeplessness

2005-11-27T00:27:00.000-05:00

Well, serves you right! I thought about the cold weather and how my cat would have to stay outside all night. I had called until I was hoarse. He didn't answer.

I laid in the bed, half-way asleep, for an hour..then two.
"Where is that cat?" Peering out into the dark, I could see my frosty breath. Kitty, kitty, kiiittty?

It's freezing outside. I can't leave him out all night. But what choice do I have? If he wants to stay out, he will not come when I call, and there is no way to find him in the dark.

Reluctantly, I go back to bed. One hour later I am back at the back door calling and listening. There it is! The beautiful 'jingle' of the bell on his collar.

With Kitty safely in the house, my thoughts take a turn. Where are my kids? The adult ones could be anywhere. Are they safe? Are they cold? Will they be out all night, knowing someone is standing at the door calling them? Will they respond?

And what about my lost loved ones? Where are they tonight? Are they in the dark? In the cold? Refusing to come when called ? Will they freeze to death or heed the call and come home?

Home is warm and safe and dry. Home is where the parents are genuinely happy to see you coming. Home is where you can step inside and lay down the burdens. Home is the Lord Jesus Christ. Can you hear home calling you?

Thanksgiving

2005-11-17T02:53:00.000-05:00

What is your favorite part of Thanksgiving? Is it the eating of a huge dinner complete with a decadent dessert? The family get-togethers ? Or the day after Thanksgiving sales?
My favorite part is the family. Every year my throat gets that big knot when I see that once again my children are with me and healthy, our family circle is not missing any spokes and God has spared us from tremendous heartache like some have endured.
I love to hear my oldest brother crack jokes at the table and keep everyone in stitches. He is a world different from my middle brother who is quiet and intense, but I love him just the same.
My youngest brother is mellow and easy going. We are still trying to figure out where those genes came from. Then there are the sister-in-laws who I couldn't love more if they were my real sisters. One of them is. You figure it out.
Throw in all the neices and nephews, my parents, and my grandmother who is spending her first Thanksgiving as a widow, and you have my family. My support group. My comic relief. My confidants. My reason for a very thankful heart at this time of Thanksgiving.
I also would like to take this time to be thankful for all of you who take time to read, and sometimes to respond to my blog. I am thankful for you .

Nailing Jello

2005-11-14T14:00:00.000-05:00

I read somewhere recently that raising a teenager is like trying to nail jell-o to a tree. How true!
Now, try raising them alone. It makes it more like nailing jell-o to a tree with a marshmellow hammer.
Don't get me wrong. I have survived three out of four teens. However- they were boys. I may not make it through the girl. (If I don't- please don't let that whiny, sniveling, bundle of hormones inherit--) Anyway...
Here are some helpful tips I have learned along the path. Perhaps we can live through this and still be productive human beings.
1) don't wake 'sleeping beauty' by flipping the light on and yelling 'wake-up'. This is a guaranteed no-no!
2) Chocolate will fix everything but boy-problems and self-image (which are ninety-nine percent of a teenage girls problems.)
3) When she throws a logical question at you, for which you don't have an answer; always say , " go clean your room."
4) Never ask why your daughter breaks down into tears over the lack of cold meatloaf in the house the 'week before'.
5) On PMS weeks, use only short, acceptable words ie..mall, chocolate, buy something, ect..

Hopefully this will help us all to remain alive through these trying times. By the way- if you are blessed with young children, (boys) who run away from you in the grocery store aisles remember- it could be worse.

Religion and Politics

2005-11-12T14:45:00.000-05:00

Religion and politics- the two taboo subjects.

After reading the news a few minutes ago I can see why.
A man was rescued off the Florida coast after five harrowing hours in the water where his boat capsized. His friend died in the water, probably of a heart attack after a shark started circling them. He held the friend for forty-five minutes, finally letting go to save his life.

The saddest part of all of this? Three boats went by, waved at the desperate man bobbing in the water, and refused to help.
The reason? The man is black and they thought he was Haitian.

I am not a student of international law but I am guessing that you can't pick up illegal immigrants or the government will smack your hand good.Maybe that was why they choose to look the other way.

I also am not a religion student but I do know that I couldn't leave another human to die just because of law.How awful to me it would be to try to sleep at night knowing the man drowned and I could've helped.

I am not an endorser of illegal immigrants. I am an endorser though, of treating others as humans. I have wondered for years how news reporters stand by, broadcasting deaths on national t.v. like they were reporting the weather forecast. In these times when beheadings are common- who tapes these events? Are they totally beyond any compassion?

It almost makes me ashamed to be called a human being. Being what? Being calloused to cries? Being hateful to people of different countries? Being scared to lend a hand for the very life of another human? What are we being?

Thank the Lord Jesus that there are a few left. Men and women who will reach out with compassion and love. They won't count their own cost- just the other persons need. It almost restores my faith in the human race---almost.

Shame on you!

2005-11-12T01:30:00.000-05:00

Well, well, well...
It seems as if I have attracted a new following of bloggers- ones I don't care to have following me! Pervies to be blunt about it.
The french kissing blog last week was what I thought was just a one-shot-in-a million joke. Not so. While looking back through some older blogs I found some hair-curling comments!
How in the world do people like that find my blog? I don't advertise or endorse raunchy-ness.
I run a clean ship here.
I think this just shows how very far people have sank. There are no more moral standards- no more respect for others. A lack of maturity, and even sanity, is evident everywhere.
Please note: To all those that would send me their supposed self-help blogs on things I would rather not know--please don't waste your time. And if you will- keep your comments so clean that your Grannie could read them- okay? Thanks.

Sea salt, sands and tans

2005-11-09T02:26:00.000-05:00

I'm baaack...
Finally, I have managed to pry my body away from sunny beaches and surf. I tore away from pier fishing, playing in waves and palm fronds. Actually- I was dragged up the highway kicking and screaming. Would you have wanted to leave a tropical paradise?
But alas- work beckoned and I had to respond ( the daughter enjoys eating regularly ). So, here we are- back to reality, back to the neurotic chihuahua, the cat (who isn't limping now) and the cooler nights.Gone is the ocean breeze, the salt water and the sand (except in my clothes and car) .
What I did manage to bring home with me is an awesome tan. In November I have a beautiful , albeit limited, tan. I also have sand in my ears which I fear will soon fall into my brain (is that bad for you?) and scrapes on my knees and feet from sea shells (no- I wasn't crawling around on the beach!) . Top it all off with a ton of gritty, wet laundry and a missing tote bag as a reminder of a wonderful vacation.
Glad to be back. Very glad to see you are still blogging along with me.

French Kissing

2005-11-03T08:45:00.000-05:00

What a laugh! I recently (last blog) got a comment from a reader wanting me to visit their site about French Kissing.
Very obviously, these people do not know me. To say that my romantic fire has dwindled to warm ashes would be an understatement.
Oh sure- I share my bed once in a while. A teenage daughter, a neurotic, teacup Chihuahua, and a limping cat are my bed-buddies.Makes for a crowded night in the boudoir!
Making things worse- the nuerotic Chihuahua likes to sleep between the two of us. If one of us turns over quickly- well,.. death by 'wedgie' is not a pretty site.
Another thing- the kissing part. The only action I get there is if I can't dodge Tinsy quickly enough and she slurps me while we are playing. I get leg rubs from my cat as I stumble to the kitchen in the morning for coffee.Occasionally, for some unknown reason, my daughter hugs me.
For sure, I won't be visiting the FrenchKissing Blog. However- I am looking into that new site : Twenty Ways to De-wedgie your Chihuahua.

Warmer Weather Approaching.

2005-11-02T03:48:00.000-05:00

Have you heard the forcast for this coming weekend? Warm, balmy breezes, sunshine, highs in the near 80's.
Oh..that's not what you heard? Well, that is not here of course. That is in Florida. So- the snowbird is migrating again! I will be Florida bound with the rest of the flock come Friday.
For those of you who enjoy the cool weather, pretty leaves and shorter days- enjoy.
I will enjoy warmth, sunshine, and sand beneath my feet~ possibly even a dip in the ocean.
I will update you when I get back, if I fly this way again.

Oh-just gram it!

2005-10-31T12:30:00.000-05:00

Today in homeschool we are learning metric measurements. Any of you ever had to find the mass of a tennis shoe? Not fun, I assure you.
Gram to mass, centimeters squared (and cubed for goodness sakes!), area=lxw, and so on. My mind is silly putty. I feel like screaming "Just gram it!"
In other more pleasant news though, it was this day, ninteen years ago, that my beautiful baby boy was born. Yes, Halloween. He was definetly a treat though.
SO- even if math is spinning me like a whirlygig in a windstorm, today is still a glorious day.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY COTY! YOU ARE A JOY I DON'T DESERVE.I LOVE YOU!
(I can just hear him saying, " Awe, Mom- not in public!)

Irony

2005-10-19T21:06:00.000-05:00

I have ran low on iron all my life, but never on irony.
For example: I have been doing the South Beach Diet since August. I love it and I have lost really well. Now- keep in mind that this diet does not allow flour, sugar, pasta or potatoes.
Now for the irony part. My daughter is currently taking a cake decorating class. Cake! You know- flour, sugar, icing. She does beautiful work but I can't enjoy it.
Another example of irony in my life- I buy one of them little magnetic key holders for the spare key. You know, the ones that stick under your fender.
I did this because I am the worst at locking my keys in my car. Sure enough- I locked myself out ( at church of all places!) but hey, no problem! I've got my spare. Ducking down I look under the fender. No key. Maybe it was the other side? Four sides later I discover that my magnet let go somewhere along life's road taking my spare key with it.
There are good twist of fate,too. How about when you are searching through every jacket in the closet looking for one lost glove and you find a twenty that you stuck in a pocket last winter? That actually happened to me and I was very happy about it.
My most ironic moment in life I guess was when, at 23 years old, with three children, I was able to lose down to a size three. I was so happy! I wasn't even that thin in high-school. Talk about walking on a cloud. I rode that cloud for about three months until it turned to a thunderedhead when I found out I was expecting!
Hmmm? Maybe I should start eating that pasta again after all!!!