This weather and the lack of direct sunlight have me feeling gloomy and down, claustrophobic and generally unhappy.
I'll be so glad when April gets here!
I'll be so glad when we get a buyer for this house.
I'll be so glad when I can feel happy again.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
December 11, 2007
If I can hold on to my sanity,
If I can keep my grip on this dream,
Maybe I can get this life here figured out
By the time my life on earth is done.
My dreams are all I have
As I travel this treacherous path...
They keep me hoping with all my heart
for a glimpse of that vague promise of eternal light.
If I can keep my grip on this dream,
Maybe I can get this life here figured out
By the time my life on earth is done.
My dreams are all I have
As I travel this treacherous path...
They keep me hoping with all my heart
for a glimpse of that vague promise of eternal light.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Journaling thoughts
My blog has become my journal and since I don't keep a journal, I guess that's okay. I don't have anything to hide, nothing sinister and nothing that would raise eyebrows...Just an ordinary, boring housewife raising a child and totally frustrated at the crap this life dishes out!
I've been wondering lately, "What happened to my dreams?" And then I realize, "Life happened." And it gives me pause...
WHERE is that book I'm supposed to write?
WHY am I still just a housewife?
WHAT happened to my pretty face?
HOW did I get so damned fat?
WHEN did the years slip away and fast forward to HERE?
At this point the only thing I see attainable is that book I'm supposed to write! Yet, where do I start, or better yet, how do I end? I've only started about 20 books, and they start out pretty good...very entertaining for myself...but about midway I stall, the story stalls and the poor characters are left hanging in limbo and wondering, "What happens next?".
Bless their hearts...They are a lot like my life...I am like one of those small rubber balls that you bounce across the livingroom and before it slows to a stop, it has covered every room of the house, taken out a quarter of the light bulbs, broken 50% of the what-nots and caused the wall hangings to droop off center.
Yep! That's me, alright...No one knows where I'm going, but they damned sure know where I've been by the havoc I've left in my wake!!!
A long time ago someone called me, "Quicksilver". I think that should be changed to, "Rubber Ball"!
I've been wondering lately, "What happened to my dreams?" And then I realize, "Life happened." And it gives me pause...
WHERE is that book I'm supposed to write?
WHY am I still just a housewife?
WHAT happened to my pretty face?
HOW did I get so damned fat?
WHEN did the years slip away and fast forward to HERE?
At this point the only thing I see attainable is that book I'm supposed to write! Yet, where do I start, or better yet, how do I end? I've only started about 20 books, and they start out pretty good...very entertaining for myself...but about midway I stall, the story stalls and the poor characters are left hanging in limbo and wondering, "What happens next?".
Bless their hearts...They are a lot like my life...I am like one of those small rubber balls that you bounce across the livingroom and before it slows to a stop, it has covered every room of the house, taken out a quarter of the light bulbs, broken 50% of the what-nots and caused the wall hangings to droop off center.
Yep! That's me, alright...No one knows where I'm going, but they damned sure know where I've been by the havoc I've left in my wake!!!
A long time ago someone called me, "Quicksilver". I think that should be changed to, "Rubber Ball"!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
I should have stayed in bed!
There are some days when I just wonder why it was that I ever climbed out of the damned bed! Today was one of those days!!!
It all started this past Sunday when Logan decided to make "dirt angels" in the newly plowed up garden spot. In his shorts, tee-shirt and sandals he decided to lie down amid the dirt and plowed under horse manure and make "dirt angels" as his Pappaw repeatedly told him not to. Some minutes later he jumps up and started scratching furiously at his legs below the knee. On close inspection we could find no ants, fleas, bugs of any kind, or any type of weed on the ground. We did find small raised areas all along one side of his calves and as the evening wore on, it resembled some sort of bite or sting, but he said it just itched really bad.
I gave him Benadryl and topical antihistamines to no avail. He also had repeated baths. But last night, the 2nd night since the "dirt angel" idea, the poor child and his pitiful grandmother might have slept an hour because he was itching so terribly and nothing helped at all.
As soon as I got out of bed I was on the phone to the doctor. Since we are two days from Thanksgiving, there were no appointments to be had and the doctor's office told me to take him to the ER since he's a Medicaid patient and because he has such weird allergies.
By 9:30 am we were at the ER where I explained that the doctor's office had sent me. 10:30am we were taken to a patient room. 11:00am an ER doctor with an attitude walks in and says, "What is the emergency here, if you have one." I repeated that the doctors office had sent us to the ER and why. He looks over the legs and says disgustingly, "Ant bites. You brought this kid to the ER for ant bites."
Them was fightin' words!
I said, "Those are NOT ant bites! I am only here because my doctor sent me here."
He replied, "Yes they are ant bites."
I said, "No they are not! We were standing within 5 feet of this child and as soon as he stood up he said he was itching, we stripped him and found no ants and no insects on his body at all."
He wanted to argue and said, "These ARE ant bites."
I pointed to a series of 10 little new raised areas and asked this brilliant horses ass, "Then show me the ants that have just bitten him here."
He looked and shook his head, "Ant bites. Well, ain't nobody ever died from a damned rash or an insect bite." And he turned to leave the room and I spoke up immediately and told him that there were many people who HAVE died from insect bites.
The ass just laughed and left the room.
I sat there with Logan for about 10 minutes before I said to hell with it and walked back out to the waiting room. I asked the lady what I needed to do to leave. She said I had to sign some papers and then she said, "I wish you would have waited to see the doctor." I replied with a room full of people behind me, "We have seen that sonofabitch and that's why we're leaving.I did what my doctor told me to do and I will not have that SOB mistreat me because of it."
Outside I called the doctor's office and she told me to be there at 1:40pm as she had just had a cancelation.
Logan and I had lunch before heading to the doctors office. We arrived there at 1:15pm and signed in. I sat not 4 feet from the door that leads into the interior exam rooms and one by one, patients were called back...Patients that had arrived after us. Not once did I hear Logan's name called, nor did anyone else bother to say a word. Finally at 3:00pm I walked up and asked if they were going to be able to see Logan and the lady says, "We've called you twice and I've even called your home and cell phone!" I told her that we had not left the waiting area and had been there the entire time.
At 3:30 we were finally allowed back. The doctor examined Logan and agreed with me...He did not have any ant bites, but he had definitely gotten into something. He said it could be some type of mite, or it could be a plant that had been plowed under and Logan was sensitive to it. But at any rate, he had a very severe case of allergic dermatitis with fever and swelling in his calves. He was given an oral steroid, antihistamine and antibiotic...just in case his scratching led to infection.
At 4:00pm we arrived at the grocery store and went straight to the pharmacy with the script. Logan and I then did a bit of Thanksgiving dinner shopping, visited with a dear friend and finally made our way back to the pharmacy at 4:35pm. I signed for the meds and realized instantly that I had made a mistake...I'd forgotten to tell the doctor that Logan must have pills...he does not swallow liquids, but projectile vomits them towards me once they hit his throat. I had to return the meds and wait another 30 minutes for them to refill the script with pills.
During all of this, I tried to call my husband, but he did not answer his cell.
At a few minutes after 5:00pm, Logan and I headed home and I dialed the house. Abby answered and asked, "WHERE ARE YOU? Dad is freaking out!" I replied, "Tell him to answer his damned phone and he would know!"
We pulled into the drive at 5:35pm and when we got out of the truck Larry asked, "Well? How was your day?"
I replied, "We know that I've lost sight in one eye. Today I realized that I have apparently lost some of my hearing. I'm very close to loosing a lot of my sanity and I'm only 44 years old. So I guess my day was as good as it could be for all I don't have going for me...How was YOUR day?"
He shook his head and said, "Better than yours."
It all started this past Sunday when Logan decided to make "dirt angels" in the newly plowed up garden spot. In his shorts, tee-shirt and sandals he decided to lie down amid the dirt and plowed under horse manure and make "dirt angels" as his Pappaw repeatedly told him not to. Some minutes later he jumps up and started scratching furiously at his legs below the knee. On close inspection we could find no ants, fleas, bugs of any kind, or any type of weed on the ground. We did find small raised areas all along one side of his calves and as the evening wore on, it resembled some sort of bite or sting, but he said it just itched really bad.
I gave him Benadryl and topical antihistamines to no avail. He also had repeated baths. But last night, the 2nd night since the "dirt angel" idea, the poor child and his pitiful grandmother might have slept an hour because he was itching so terribly and nothing helped at all.
As soon as I got out of bed I was on the phone to the doctor. Since we are two days from Thanksgiving, there were no appointments to be had and the doctor's office told me to take him to the ER since he's a Medicaid patient and because he has such weird allergies.
By 9:30 am we were at the ER where I explained that the doctor's office had sent me. 10:30am we were taken to a patient room. 11:00am an ER doctor with an attitude walks in and says, "What is the emergency here, if you have one." I repeated that the doctors office had sent us to the ER and why. He looks over the legs and says disgustingly, "Ant bites. You brought this kid to the ER for ant bites."
Them was fightin' words!
I said, "Those are NOT ant bites! I am only here because my doctor sent me here."
He replied, "Yes they are ant bites."
I said, "No they are not! We were standing within 5 feet of this child and as soon as he stood up he said he was itching, we stripped him and found no ants and no insects on his body at all."
He wanted to argue and said, "These ARE ant bites."
I pointed to a series of 10 little new raised areas and asked this brilliant horses ass, "Then show me the ants that have just bitten him here."
He looked and shook his head, "Ant bites. Well, ain't nobody ever died from a damned rash or an insect bite." And he turned to leave the room and I spoke up immediately and told him that there were many people who HAVE died from insect bites.
The ass just laughed and left the room.
I sat there with Logan for about 10 minutes before I said to hell with it and walked back out to the waiting room. I asked the lady what I needed to do to leave. She said I had to sign some papers and then she said, "I wish you would have waited to see the doctor." I replied with a room full of people behind me, "We have seen that sonofabitch and that's why we're leaving.I did what my doctor told me to do and I will not have that SOB mistreat me because of it."
Outside I called the doctor's office and she told me to be there at 1:40pm as she had just had a cancelation.
Logan and I had lunch before heading to the doctors office. We arrived there at 1:15pm and signed in. I sat not 4 feet from the door that leads into the interior exam rooms and one by one, patients were called back...Patients that had arrived after us. Not once did I hear Logan's name called, nor did anyone else bother to say a word. Finally at 3:00pm I walked up and asked if they were going to be able to see Logan and the lady says, "We've called you twice and I've even called your home and cell phone!" I told her that we had not left the waiting area and had been there the entire time.
At 3:30 we were finally allowed back. The doctor examined Logan and agreed with me...He did not have any ant bites, but he had definitely gotten into something. He said it could be some type of mite, or it could be a plant that had been plowed under and Logan was sensitive to it. But at any rate, he had a very severe case of allergic dermatitis with fever and swelling in his calves. He was given an oral steroid, antihistamine and antibiotic...just in case his scratching led to infection.
At 4:00pm we arrived at the grocery store and went straight to the pharmacy with the script. Logan and I then did a bit of Thanksgiving dinner shopping, visited with a dear friend and finally made our way back to the pharmacy at 4:35pm. I signed for the meds and realized instantly that I had made a mistake...I'd forgotten to tell the doctor that Logan must have pills...he does not swallow liquids, but projectile vomits them towards me once they hit his throat. I had to return the meds and wait another 30 minutes for them to refill the script with pills.
During all of this, I tried to call my husband, but he did not answer his cell.
At a few minutes after 5:00pm, Logan and I headed home and I dialed the house. Abby answered and asked, "WHERE ARE YOU? Dad is freaking out!" I replied, "Tell him to answer his damned phone and he would know!"
We pulled into the drive at 5:35pm and when we got out of the truck Larry asked, "Well? How was your day?"
I replied, "We know that I've lost sight in one eye. Today I realized that I have apparently lost some of my hearing. I'm very close to loosing a lot of my sanity and I'm only 44 years old. So I guess my day was as good as it could be for all I don't have going for me...How was YOUR day?"
He shook his head and said, "Better than yours."
Thoughts & Questions
I've always been a dreamer...a planner...a hoper...a wanter...With visions of grandeur...a deep need for attention...a strong desire to be loved...a longing for something undescernable, something so near I could taste it, so far I couldn't grasp it...
Where do these feelings, these yearnings stem from?
What causes me to have such strong feelings, such intense needs, such peculiar emotions?
Who's voice is it that calls me from afar? That voice that bids me "Come." and tugs at my heart to follow?
Is it some distant memory from my past, some familiar...yet completely unknown force...Or is this perhaps God, my Maker, the Keeper of my soul?
At this point in my life I am no longer content with the words of man to lead and guide me. I'm no longer a follower of teachings that I find to be questionable, and oft times in error.
But then, was I ever content? Was I ever a follower? Haven't I always been a leader of my own soul? A dreamer of my own dreams? Haven't I always followed my own heart? Haven't I always marched to the beat of my own drum and wandered through this life, not because I was lost, but because I simply enjoyed the longer journey that would take me to places with few people and a whole lot of time with God?
Sometimes it all makes perfect sense...and sometimes this life is the craziest journey!!! But in the end, I hope I can say..."DANG! What a RIDE it was!"
Where do these feelings, these yearnings stem from?
What causes me to have such strong feelings, such intense needs, such peculiar emotions?
Who's voice is it that calls me from afar? That voice that bids me "Come." and tugs at my heart to follow?
Is it some distant memory from my past, some familiar...yet completely unknown force...Or is this perhaps God, my Maker, the Keeper of my soul?
At this point in my life I am no longer content with the words of man to lead and guide me. I'm no longer a follower of teachings that I find to be questionable, and oft times in error.
But then, was I ever content? Was I ever a follower? Haven't I always been a leader of my own soul? A dreamer of my own dreams? Haven't I always followed my own heart? Haven't I always marched to the beat of my own drum and wandered through this life, not because I was lost, but because I simply enjoyed the longer journey that would take me to places with few people and a whole lot of time with God?
Sometimes it all makes perfect sense...and sometimes this life is the craziest journey!!! But in the end, I hope I can say..."DANG! What a RIDE it was!"
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Ramblings...
Lately I've been finding myself slowly sinking into the great abyss of depression and there isn't a thing I can do about it. Going to an MD only serves to be diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and fed drugs that screw me up worse than the only acid trip I've ever taken, which just happened to be twenty-eight years ago and as clear as if it happened yesterday. I'm NOT bi-polar and I'm not suffering from clinical depression. I'm suffering from chronic pain, chronic stress and absolute frustration which in turn physically weakens me and THAT is what depresses me. The fact that I hurt somewhere in my body every day of the last twenty-five years and the fact that I've yet to discover how to handle my stress is aggravating, and the fact that I see no changes in sight depresses me!
Bi-polar is a chemical imbalance and my chemicals are balanced, it's just my joints and my life that is out of kelter.
And few, if anyone, understands or even knows these tid bits about me. Instead I'm labeled as a bitch...And while it does bother me to some degree, on the otherhand I think, "Oh, well! Walk in my shoes for a day and I promise you won't be angelic, either."
There are people who look at me and apparently view me as a simpleton because I don't strive to keep up with the Jones. I don't sit and dream about diamonds on my fingers, driving a Chevy taHOe, seeing George Strait in concert...(Give me a break, will ya? I saw him once, he was great. Why do I need to see him everytime he comes within 6 hours of where I live???) I don't wear "slacks" or Italian leather shoes or shop at Macy's or get my hair "done" every 4 weeks cause my roots are showing and I don't want anyone to know that I'm 44!!! I don't fit in with most women because I find it absolutely silly to sit around and gossip about Hollywood stars and Country Music entertainers, or who in the town is sleeping with who's husband or wife.
Those things are of no importance to me and I'm not sure why they are of importance to anyone else???
So, I wear my jeans and tee-shirts, my boots and my solid gold wedding band and I'm happy and I'm comfortable. I stay at home and keep my house clean. I cook for my husband every night. I take care of my children and when I have the chance, I read a good book...maybe two a day 'cause I can read fast. I mind my own business and I try to be kind and polite to everyone...BUT, don't think for one second that I'm a timid push-over!
If I'm nice to you, you damned sure better be nice to me because I will not be treated rudely, patronized, "put in my place" by anyone who has no idea where my place might be, nor will I allow these actions against my husband or children. When these behaviors are directed to me or mine, it is as if the real Bitch in me awakens and I am ready to bite someone's stupid little head off!
I hate control freaks and the "better than you" crowds. I detest being talked down to and having someone explain some trivial thing to me as if I had a single digit IQ. I find it intolerable when people assume they know everything about me simply because they know my first name, even if they've had twenty years or more of opportune times to really get to know me, yet have not. I have no use for these people.
If you make a promise, then keep it. If you can't keep it, then apologize. But don't just let it lie there with the other person expecting it and you not intending to keep it. This isn't only rude, it's cruel!
If you're having a bad day, don't lie and say "It's all good" when it truly isn't, then have people wonder why you behaved so hatefully...Be honest and tell them, "This is a piss poor day and my mood is not good. I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me."
And for God's sake, don't judge another person by the clothing they wear, the style of their hair, the car they drive, or even by what they might have done twenty years ago! Everyone has different priorities, different likes and dislikes, different tastes, different beliefs and everyone makes their own decisions in life based upon their own circumstances.
No one has any compassion anymore. I guess this is what gets to me, what eventually leads to my deepest, darkest bouts of depression...Sort of my "trigger".
One of my favorite people in the world is a drug addict. Drugs have robbed her of her looks, so she isn't even pretty anymore, but she is the funniest and most kind person I've ever met! I can't be around her any longer because she's so deep into the mess, but I miss her all the time. I still don't judge her and will always love her.
I know a man, have known him my entire life and have loved him just as long. He's an alcoholic and a drug addict, but I will always love him regardless. I know what he went through as a child and I understand his need to escape the pain and hide in a bottle or a joint or a snort. I'll never be his judge.
I know a woman who has had extramarital affairs and I still love her and will always be loyal to her.
I know a man who rants and raves, comes up with the most ridiculous ideas bordering on paranoia, and puts his family through hell. Yet I understand him better than anyone else ever will for we share some of the same demons. How can I possibly judge this man? All I feel for him is love and understanding.
One of the wealthiest and most astute individuals I've ever met was a man others called "white trash". He was always dirty, always drove an old junker that smoked so bad we just knew it was going to die at any minute and had more kids than Abraham was promised!
One of the wealthiest, most intelligent women I've ever known was also the prettiest. She made her wealth in a man's world, doing a man's job and never once did she compromise her morals or her integrity, though many were jealous and said she did. She wore jeans and boots and tee-shirts, was never bejeweled, was nice to everyone she ever met and didn't take no bull off of anyone. Today she has made her husband a wealthy man and is still a beautiful, faithful and devoted wife.
I think if people took the time to cast their judgments aside and search deep within themselves for a little compassion, a little understanding, a little acceptance this world would be a much better place to live and my depression would certainly abate!
Bi-polar is a chemical imbalance and my chemicals are balanced, it's just my joints and my life that is out of kelter.
And few, if anyone, understands or even knows these tid bits about me. Instead I'm labeled as a bitch...And while it does bother me to some degree, on the otherhand I think, "Oh, well! Walk in my shoes for a day and I promise you won't be angelic, either."
There are people who look at me and apparently view me as a simpleton because I don't strive to keep up with the Jones. I don't sit and dream about diamonds on my fingers, driving a Chevy taHOe, seeing George Strait in concert...(Give me a break, will ya? I saw him once, he was great. Why do I need to see him everytime he comes within 6 hours of where I live???) I don't wear "slacks" or Italian leather shoes or shop at Macy's or get my hair "done" every 4 weeks cause my roots are showing and I don't want anyone to know that I'm 44!!! I don't fit in with most women because I find it absolutely silly to sit around and gossip about Hollywood stars and Country Music entertainers, or who in the town is sleeping with who's husband or wife.
Those things are of no importance to me and I'm not sure why they are of importance to anyone else???
So, I wear my jeans and tee-shirts, my boots and my solid gold wedding band and I'm happy and I'm comfortable. I stay at home and keep my house clean. I cook for my husband every night. I take care of my children and when I have the chance, I read a good book...maybe two a day 'cause I can read fast. I mind my own business and I try to be kind and polite to everyone...BUT, don't think for one second that I'm a timid push-over!
If I'm nice to you, you damned sure better be nice to me because I will not be treated rudely, patronized, "put in my place" by anyone who has no idea where my place might be, nor will I allow these actions against my husband or children. When these behaviors are directed to me or mine, it is as if the real Bitch in me awakens and I am ready to bite someone's stupid little head off!
I hate control freaks and the "better than you" crowds. I detest being talked down to and having someone explain some trivial thing to me as if I had a single digit IQ. I find it intolerable when people assume they know everything about me simply because they know my first name, even if they've had twenty years or more of opportune times to really get to know me, yet have not. I have no use for these people.
If you make a promise, then keep it. If you can't keep it, then apologize. But don't just let it lie there with the other person expecting it and you not intending to keep it. This isn't only rude, it's cruel!
If you're having a bad day, don't lie and say "It's all good" when it truly isn't, then have people wonder why you behaved so hatefully...Be honest and tell them, "This is a piss poor day and my mood is not good. I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me."
And for God's sake, don't judge another person by the clothing they wear, the style of their hair, the car they drive, or even by what they might have done twenty years ago! Everyone has different priorities, different likes and dislikes, different tastes, different beliefs and everyone makes their own decisions in life based upon their own circumstances.
No one has any compassion anymore. I guess this is what gets to me, what eventually leads to my deepest, darkest bouts of depression...Sort of my "trigger".
One of my favorite people in the world is a drug addict. Drugs have robbed her of her looks, so she isn't even pretty anymore, but she is the funniest and most kind person I've ever met! I can't be around her any longer because she's so deep into the mess, but I miss her all the time. I still don't judge her and will always love her.
I know a man, have known him my entire life and have loved him just as long. He's an alcoholic and a drug addict, but I will always love him regardless. I know what he went through as a child and I understand his need to escape the pain and hide in a bottle or a joint or a snort. I'll never be his judge.
I know a woman who has had extramarital affairs and I still love her and will always be loyal to her.
I know a man who rants and raves, comes up with the most ridiculous ideas bordering on paranoia, and puts his family through hell. Yet I understand him better than anyone else ever will for we share some of the same demons. How can I possibly judge this man? All I feel for him is love and understanding.
One of the wealthiest and most astute individuals I've ever met was a man others called "white trash". He was always dirty, always drove an old junker that smoked so bad we just knew it was going to die at any minute and had more kids than Abraham was promised!
One of the wealthiest, most intelligent women I've ever known was also the prettiest. She made her wealth in a man's world, doing a man's job and never once did she compromise her morals or her integrity, though many were jealous and said she did. She wore jeans and boots and tee-shirts, was never bejeweled, was nice to everyone she ever met and didn't take no bull off of anyone. Today she has made her husband a wealthy man and is still a beautiful, faithful and devoted wife.
I think if people took the time to cast their judgments aside and search deep within themselves for a little compassion, a little understanding, a little acceptance this world would be a much better place to live and my depression would certainly abate!
Friday, November 2, 2007
I'm too old...
Every evening Logan and I play "ball" in the den. I sit on the edge of Larry's chair, Logan sits on the steps and then we bounce the basketballs back and forth to each other. I actually enjoy it myself! But, sometimes the ball gets away from me and anyone that knows me knows that I have difficulty standing up as my hip and leg "catch" and it takes me a while. It's all due to sciatica and I've lived with this for years...
Well, tonight Logan bounced the ball towards me and it hit the corner of the coffee table and bounced across the room. I attempted to get up and retrieve it when pain stabbed through my hip and leg and I couldn't catch my breath or even get up. Logan immediately saw I was in distress and jumped up, running after tha ball and said, "Mommy, you're too old to get up! Sit there and I'll get it 'cause I'm not old like you." After he got the ball he came back to me, kissed me on the forehead and told me sadly, "You are just too old, Mommy. Just sit there and be old and I'll get the ball for you."
I was so tickled all I could do was giggle and cry:)
I used to be just TIRED. Now I'm TIRED and OLD!!! But I sure do love Logan and his childish innocense and honesty!
Well, tonight Logan bounced the ball towards me and it hit the corner of the coffee table and bounced across the room. I attempted to get up and retrieve it when pain stabbed through my hip and leg and I couldn't catch my breath or even get up. Logan immediately saw I was in distress and jumped up, running after tha ball and said, "Mommy, you're too old to get up! Sit there and I'll get it 'cause I'm not old like you." After he got the ball he came back to me, kissed me on the forehead and told me sadly, "You are just too old, Mommy. Just sit there and be old and I'll get the ball for you."
I was so tickled all I could do was giggle and cry:)
I used to be just TIRED. Now I'm TIRED and OLD!!! But I sure do love Logan and his childish innocense and honesty!
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Wandering Through Life
My favorite quote is from J.R.R. Tolkien..."Not all that wander are lost."...Strangely, an email pal of mine pointed out recently that THIS is MY quote for life! She said, "Jennifer, You're a wanderer by nature, traveling many roads, seeing many sights, and yet you are never lost, but instead completely in your element."
Maybe she's right...
I've always believed in taking the path less traveled, the path that is filled with risks and the path that most usually gets me laughed at, made fun of and pitied. My internal compass guides me away from the crowds and the fads to pursue something more worthy, something more important, something more magnificent than the ordinary and the mundane.
Few understand me, and still fewer even try. I think people are uncomfortable with a courageous soul who seeks more than the ordinary and I think that people fear a person who does not fear to take chances in pursuit of a dream.
When I was 18 I lost a dear friend when I answered her truthfully. When I was 21 I lost a lifelong friend when I answered her painful question with complete honesty. While I was saddened that the friendships died, I've never regretted being honest with either person.
A few years ago my husband and I had problems and against the advice of just about everyone, I gave him another chance...And I've not regretted taking this "risk". Today our marraige is stronger than ever.
A few years ago I was advised by a family member to "forget" about my grandson...I refused and now he is my son. His life is better and mine is headed in new directions...Wandering sometimes blindly, but still standing and still moving ahead!
Twice my husband and I have made major relocations and both times we have been warned against the "risky" moves, laughed at, talked about, browbeat and admonished...And both times we trudged ahead and against all odds, our lives became better and we've grown together.
Now we are attempting to put our biggest dream and riskiest relocation in motion and let me tell you, we have been met with pure hell from family, so-called friends and business people in our community. Only a handful of true friends and loving family have encouraged us and understood our decision... I will always be thankful for their support and prayers. It's not that I don't want to be HERE, but I want to be THERE more!
Dreams don't come true until a person is willing to step out in faith, with courage and boldness and pursue that dream with lots of prayer and nerves of steel.
A wandering person only becomes lost when he quits dreaming!
Maybe she's right...
I've always believed in taking the path less traveled, the path that is filled with risks and the path that most usually gets me laughed at, made fun of and pitied. My internal compass guides me away from the crowds and the fads to pursue something more worthy, something more important, something more magnificent than the ordinary and the mundane.
Few understand me, and still fewer even try. I think people are uncomfortable with a courageous soul who seeks more than the ordinary and I think that people fear a person who does not fear to take chances in pursuit of a dream.
When I was 18 I lost a dear friend when I answered her truthfully. When I was 21 I lost a lifelong friend when I answered her painful question with complete honesty. While I was saddened that the friendships died, I've never regretted being honest with either person.
A few years ago my husband and I had problems and against the advice of just about everyone, I gave him another chance...And I've not regretted taking this "risk". Today our marraige is stronger than ever.
A few years ago I was advised by a family member to "forget" about my grandson...I refused and now he is my son. His life is better and mine is headed in new directions...Wandering sometimes blindly, but still standing and still moving ahead!
Twice my husband and I have made major relocations and both times we have been warned against the "risky" moves, laughed at, talked about, browbeat and admonished...And both times we trudged ahead and against all odds, our lives became better and we've grown together.
Now we are attempting to put our biggest dream and riskiest relocation in motion and let me tell you, we have been met with pure hell from family, so-called friends and business people in our community. Only a handful of true friends and loving family have encouraged us and understood our decision... I will always be thankful for their support and prayers. It's not that I don't want to be HERE, but I want to be THERE more!
Dreams don't come true until a person is willing to step out in faith, with courage and boldness and pursue that dream with lots of prayer and nerves of steel.
A wandering person only becomes lost when he quits dreaming!
Monday, October 29, 2007
Toxic People
I am so tired of toxic people...A few months ago I became so angry, so frustrated and so absolutely fed up with these kinds of people that I stopped answering my phone, stopped initiating any contact with them and simply stopped caring if they existed or not. I felt as if I had become their crutch and it was a burden that I could not, would not carry any longer. These people became angry with me and bombarded my answering machine with messages and my mailbox with letters asking, "Are you mad at me?", and telling me, "I miss my friend." It was so darned childish...First the "what about me" crap and then the attempts to put me on a guilt trip because I had not put these toxic people first. But, I handled it very well...I simply ignored them...I deleted the messages from the machine, browsed over the letters before throwing them in the garbage and went about my merry little way without a shred of guilt.
I wanted to shout to these people..."HEY! I DO have a life! I AM busy! Can't you see I've got my hands full raising my fifth child and I don't WANT to raise your kid, too? I don't have time to run around my house with the phone stuck to my ear for four hours three days a week while you tell me every single bodily function you experience, every ache and pain you have or how many pain killers you cram down your throat every four hours! I don't care if your husband talks mean to you or shows his ass 24/7...It ain't MY problem! I don't care if some guy at church is sleeping with his best friend's wife or if some lady at church wanted someone to give her money out of the offering plate... It doesn't concern me! And, I don't care if nobody likes me or if they blame me for stupid crap behind my back..Hell, that might be a lie, just like the other forty you've told me."
But instead, I've taken the easy way out...the path of least resistance...a way to keep peace...I just ignore these people and their toxic, smothering, oppressive presence.
In turn, they think me a coward. HA! If they truly knew me they would truly NOT call me cowardly, but extremely self-controlled! All they need to do is ask my husband and my pastor:)
I have just had enough of the whining and pity parties, attention seeking behavior and lethal gossip. Drama, drama, and more drama...I hate soap operas because of the drama, so why on earth would I put up with it from people in my life?
Take responsibility for your own actions, your own choices and your own decisions. Don't try to put me on a guilt trip to make yourself feel better and more worthy, and don't play games with me...Speak when necessary and make sure it's the truth, not some gossip you've heard or some sordid fantasy you've contrived within your own creative mind. Stop whining about your ailments...Hell, we're all getting older and we all hurt some place or another...I know people who are battling cancer and living with tremendous pain and disfigurement, yet they don't bitch or moan, whine or pout continuously! If your husband is a pain in your ass, kick HIS! If you don't like the way he treats you, make a change...maybe in yourself or maybe in your place of residence, but quit bawling about it constantly and DO something, or SHUT UP 'cause the saga is old now. And finally, I do not care who is sleeping with whose wife because it does not concern me...It ain't my business and it ain't my problem...And anyway, why do YOU care unless you're jealous of one or the other!!!
I just don't have enough years left in me to live them in a dumpster filled with toxic waste and garbage. Every day that God allows me to wake up is a gift...Every second that God allows me to live and breath is a priviledge and unless I make a conscious effort to make the moments count with a positive attitude geared towards positive results, then I have wasted the moments and shamed my God...I will have wasted opportunity and I will have wasted precious time.
To Live, to Love and to Laugh...To speak good words in truth and with tact...To pray for Godly wisdom and to use it when He sends it...To be grateful for each new moment He so generously gives me and to pass this own to those around me...These are the things that are important and meaningful and lasting...These are the things I yearn for and the things I set my course for...
I wanted to shout to these people..."HEY! I DO have a life! I AM busy! Can't you see I've got my hands full raising my fifth child and I don't WANT to raise your kid, too? I don't have time to run around my house with the phone stuck to my ear for four hours three days a week while you tell me every single bodily function you experience, every ache and pain you have or how many pain killers you cram down your throat every four hours! I don't care if your husband talks mean to you or shows his ass 24/7...It ain't MY problem! I don't care if some guy at church is sleeping with his best friend's wife or if some lady at church wanted someone to give her money out of the offering plate... It doesn't concern me! And, I don't care if nobody likes me or if they blame me for stupid crap behind my back..Hell, that might be a lie, just like the other forty you've told me."
But instead, I've taken the easy way out...the path of least resistance...a way to keep peace...I just ignore these people and their toxic, smothering, oppressive presence.
In turn, they think me a coward. HA! If they truly knew me they would truly NOT call me cowardly, but extremely self-controlled! All they need to do is ask my husband and my pastor:)
I have just had enough of the whining and pity parties, attention seeking behavior and lethal gossip. Drama, drama, and more drama...I hate soap operas because of the drama, so why on earth would I put up with it from people in my life?
Take responsibility for your own actions, your own choices and your own decisions. Don't try to put me on a guilt trip to make yourself feel better and more worthy, and don't play games with me...Speak when necessary and make sure it's the truth, not some gossip you've heard or some sordid fantasy you've contrived within your own creative mind. Stop whining about your ailments...Hell, we're all getting older and we all hurt some place or another...I know people who are battling cancer and living with tremendous pain and disfigurement, yet they don't bitch or moan, whine or pout continuously! If your husband is a pain in your ass, kick HIS! If you don't like the way he treats you, make a change...maybe in yourself or maybe in your place of residence, but quit bawling about it constantly and DO something, or SHUT UP 'cause the saga is old now. And finally, I do not care who is sleeping with whose wife because it does not concern me...It ain't my business and it ain't my problem...And anyway, why do YOU care unless you're jealous of one or the other!!!
I just don't have enough years left in me to live them in a dumpster filled with toxic waste and garbage. Every day that God allows me to wake up is a gift...Every second that God allows me to live and breath is a priviledge and unless I make a conscious effort to make the moments count with a positive attitude geared towards positive results, then I have wasted the moments and shamed my God...I will have wasted opportunity and I will have wasted precious time.
To Live, to Love and to Laugh...To speak good words in truth and with tact...To pray for Godly wisdom and to use it when He sends it...To be grateful for each new moment He so generously gives me and to pass this own to those around me...These are the things that are important and meaningful and lasting...These are the things I yearn for and the things I set my course for...
Misplaced friends...
Through the years I've misplaced many friends...When I was a child I had no control over this, but as an adult I simply neglected to follow through with phone calls or letters. Despite the reasons, there were just some I could never forget...
From Tarkington...Billy Joe, from first grade...There was Carrie, Vickie, Christine, Peggy, Tammy, Charlotte, Dena, Nina, Michelle...Mark, Mark, Mark...it was a popular name back then!...Bo with the pretty blue eyes, Billy, Darryl, Tony, Keith...
From Hardin...Betty Dianne, Stormy, Betty, Connie, Sue, Debbie, Janet...Earl, Ricky, Jerry, Kenneth...
From Shepherd... Kim, Stacy, Cathy, Pam, Angie, Melbalee, Ginger, Shirley, Cynthia...Ray, Wendell, Weldon, Roger, Doug, Charles...
From early adult life...Jerry, Beverly, Bobby, Crash, Dorinda...
And the ones I miss most are the ones I've never been able to see or speak to again. And though I doubt that I will ever see or speak to most of them ever again, I remember them with fondness and with love.
I wonder...am I remembered at all...by those I carry within my heart???
From Tarkington...Billy Joe, from first grade...There was Carrie, Vickie, Christine, Peggy, Tammy, Charlotte, Dena, Nina, Michelle...Mark, Mark, Mark...it was a popular name back then!...Bo with the pretty blue eyes, Billy, Darryl, Tony, Keith...
From Hardin...Betty Dianne, Stormy, Betty, Connie, Sue, Debbie, Janet...Earl, Ricky, Jerry, Kenneth...
From Shepherd... Kim, Stacy, Cathy, Pam, Angie, Melbalee, Ginger, Shirley, Cynthia...Ray, Wendell, Weldon, Roger, Doug, Charles...
From early adult life...Jerry, Beverly, Bobby, Crash, Dorinda...
And the ones I miss most are the ones I've never been able to see or speak to again. And though I doubt that I will ever see or speak to most of them ever again, I remember them with fondness and with love.
I wonder...am I remembered at all...by those I carry within my heart???
Sunday, October 28, 2007
My thoughts on my age...
I'm forty-four years, four months and 28 days old tonight and while my body feels it, my mind does not...It feels more like 20.
I remember my Nanny with such clarity that it often makes me cry, but that seems silly since she left this world March 10th, 1970...a long time ago. I wish I could have told her how much I loved her before she left, but I think she knew...For all of her faults and imperfections, she was the most wonderful grandmother a little girl could have for just six short years...And still, I remember her so clearly it brings tears to my eyes and an ache to my heart.
I remember Pa...His laughter, and then his sterness. He was a giant of a man to me, and I loved him and I feared him...Not a terrible fear, but a fear of reverence and respect. Oh, how I wish he could have stayed on this earth a little longer...like maybe the rest of my life! He had such wisdom and such Godliness that I could have really used his advisce.
Grandmother...I thank GOD that He saw fit for her to stay here through most of my young adult life! She was a treasure and she was the epitome of grace. Of course, she could get on my nerves quicker than just about anyone, but she always forgave me for my impatience...she understood that I was just a kid.
W.A.S...My first REAL love and my first REAL heartbreak. I never doubted love at first sight and suddenly in August of 1983 I experienced it first hand. He lost his life on June 22nd, 1985 (He was 21)...and I STILL miss him and think about him just about every day. On June 25th, 2007 I visited his grave...exactly 22 years after putting him in that final resting place, and later that evening it occured to me...I've loved and missed him longer than he lived...It seems like it was only yesterday when we were riding in his 4X4 busting out mud holes and jumping logs, or riding down old tram roads all night long listing to country music and drinking beer, or riding through the pastures looking at his cows, or going out partying with his friends...
I remember holding my babies for the first time...I remember singing silly songs to them, holding them when they cried, crying for them when they were sick or hurt...I remember the excitement on their faces come Christmas morning and sadly, I remember the disappointment, the hurt and the lonliness they felt when life wasn't so good.
I remember the first time I saw my husband...I didn't know who he was at the time, but I thought he was the ugliest man I'd ever seen with his beer belly hanging over his cut off shorts, his beard all scraggly and mishapened, with scrawney legs and flip flops on his feet. I remember the second time I saw him, (Though I thought it was the first) and how I fell in love with those gorgeous bably blue eyes, that clean shaven face and that wonderful nose. I also remember 6 months later seeing him walking through the house with cut offs and a beard, and how I realized in horror that he WAS the ugly man and I was now married to him!!! But, I was glad...Through all of the bad times, there have been some wonderful times, too. I remember how gentle and loving he was to our baby and how he has always been such a good provider. He adores me, though I don't know why...And after 20 years together I fear the day we should part 'cause I just don't know how we could make it without the other.
And yet, I don't feel old enough to have lived this many years and be standing on the threshold of middle age. I don't feel old enough to have grown children and grandchildren, nor do I feel old enough to be worried about losing my parents, or having arthritis in my spine or being told I need to have yearly mammograms! I don't feel old enough to have this much white hair, or this big of a belly or this wide of a behind. I don't feel old enough to be 44 years old!
In August of 2007 my cousin Karen who was 30ish years old died suddenly and the cornoner ruled her death as a suicide. She had no children and was divorced. She left behind a Blog with pictures of her artwork and a few posts from over a year ago. I remember babysitting Karen when she was just a toddler and she was just as beautiful a woman as she was a little girl...And my heart aches for the loss of such a beautiful, talented and successful young woman...
What will I leave behind once I do leave this earth? Memories, words written down for others to read, a few pictures I've taken or drawn, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren? Will I leave a mark???
I certainly hope so and I hope and pray that I have many more years to "write on the walls" of this life and on the hearts of those who know and love me...I hope I leave good memories that will last a lifetime.
I hope my smile and my laughter will be remembered, too.
I remember my Nanny with such clarity that it often makes me cry, but that seems silly since she left this world March 10th, 1970...a long time ago. I wish I could have told her how much I loved her before she left, but I think she knew...For all of her faults and imperfections, she was the most wonderful grandmother a little girl could have for just six short years...And still, I remember her so clearly it brings tears to my eyes and an ache to my heart.
I remember Pa...His laughter, and then his sterness. He was a giant of a man to me, and I loved him and I feared him...Not a terrible fear, but a fear of reverence and respect. Oh, how I wish he could have stayed on this earth a little longer...like maybe the rest of my life! He had such wisdom and such Godliness that I could have really used his advisce.
Grandmother...I thank GOD that He saw fit for her to stay here through most of my young adult life! She was a treasure and she was the epitome of grace. Of course, she could get on my nerves quicker than just about anyone, but she always forgave me for my impatience...she understood that I was just a kid.
W.A.S...My first REAL love and my first REAL heartbreak. I never doubted love at first sight and suddenly in August of 1983 I experienced it first hand. He lost his life on June 22nd, 1985 (He was 21)...and I STILL miss him and think about him just about every day. On June 25th, 2007 I visited his grave...exactly 22 years after putting him in that final resting place, and later that evening it occured to me...I've loved and missed him longer than he lived...It seems like it was only yesterday when we were riding in his 4X4 busting out mud holes and jumping logs, or riding down old tram roads all night long listing to country music and drinking beer, or riding through the pastures looking at his cows, or going out partying with his friends...
I remember holding my babies for the first time...I remember singing silly songs to them, holding them when they cried, crying for them when they were sick or hurt...I remember the excitement on their faces come Christmas morning and sadly, I remember the disappointment, the hurt and the lonliness they felt when life wasn't so good.
I remember the first time I saw my husband...I didn't know who he was at the time, but I thought he was the ugliest man I'd ever seen with his beer belly hanging over his cut off shorts, his beard all scraggly and mishapened, with scrawney legs and flip flops on his feet. I remember the second time I saw him, (Though I thought it was the first) and how I fell in love with those gorgeous bably blue eyes, that clean shaven face and that wonderful nose. I also remember 6 months later seeing him walking through the house with cut offs and a beard, and how I realized in horror that he WAS the ugly man and I was now married to him!!! But, I was glad...Through all of the bad times, there have been some wonderful times, too. I remember how gentle and loving he was to our baby and how he has always been such a good provider. He adores me, though I don't know why...And after 20 years together I fear the day we should part 'cause I just don't know how we could make it without the other.
And yet, I don't feel old enough to have lived this many years and be standing on the threshold of middle age. I don't feel old enough to have grown children and grandchildren, nor do I feel old enough to be worried about losing my parents, or having arthritis in my spine or being told I need to have yearly mammograms! I don't feel old enough to have this much white hair, or this big of a belly or this wide of a behind. I don't feel old enough to be 44 years old!
In August of 2007 my cousin Karen who was 30ish years old died suddenly and the cornoner ruled her death as a suicide. She had no children and was divorced. She left behind a Blog with pictures of her artwork and a few posts from over a year ago. I remember babysitting Karen when she was just a toddler and she was just as beautiful a woman as she was a little girl...And my heart aches for the loss of such a beautiful, talented and successful young woman...
What will I leave behind once I do leave this earth? Memories, words written down for others to read, a few pictures I've taken or drawn, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren? Will I leave a mark???
I certainly hope so and I hope and pray that I have many more years to "write on the walls" of this life and on the hearts of those who know and love me...I hope I leave good memories that will last a lifetime.
I hope my smile and my laughter will be remembered, too.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
My Pet Peeve of the Day
For a long time I thought it was just me and my paranoid self...So, I tried to be extra nice and pay closer attention to others behavior just in case they were preoccupied or having a really bad day...But I arrived at the conclusion that it wasn't just me... and those people who weren't bothered by these behaviors in others were actually people who displayed those behaviors themselves...
Rudeness. People are just rude these days and it is everywhere. it is rare to find people who are polite anymore and I wonder why that is?
When I was growing up we showed respect to our elders, even if they were cranky and irritating. We didn't talk back to our elders unless we wanted red stripes on our behinds or Momma's hand slapping our mouths faster than the speed of light. When I started working at about 15 at a small corner grocery store and gas station, the first thing I was taught was to always be polite to the customers, greet everyone who entered the store with a smile on my face and to always thank them for their business when they left.
I've never forgotten that and all these years later, I still expect it of others...I just don't get that kind treatment as often as I used to, and neither does anyone else.
I have dealt with banks since I was about 16 and can't even count the times I've used the drive-up window. I pull up, the teller sees me, smiles and pops the little drawer out to me as she asks, "How are you today?" We make small talk as she takes my deposit or cashes my check and then she thanks me as I leave.
It's pretty much a no-brainer...Person drives up to window, teller recognizes person and pops the drawer out because she knows there is a 99% chance the person will either put money in or take money out...I mean, there are signs posted that read, "Money Orders can only be purchased from teller inside bank" and "Loan payments must be paid at the Loan Department, not the Drive-thru"...
About 10 months ago we changed banks and every week I make a deposit into our account. I have never driven up to the window and asked my balance, nor have I ever tried to pay a loan or purchase a money order from the drive-thru. I put money in and I take money out...That's it.
And every Friday I pull up to the bank drive thru window and the teller, one of three, looks out the window at me and stands there. The drawer doesn't pop-out...She just looks at me.
I say, "Hello?" impatiently and then she pushes the little intercom and sometimes says, "Yes?"
Or sometimes she says, "Uh, can I help you?"
Other times she might say, "Is there something you need?"
Okay...Forgive me if I'm not understanding this situation, but I'm at a freakin' drive-thru bank window holding money in my hand as a 6 year old sits in the back seat asking if he's going to get a sticker this time and these tellers don't comprehend WHY I'm there???
I wonder what they would do if they said, "Yes?" and I replied, "NO?" I wonder how far that conversation would travel...
Or, if they asked, "Uh, can I help you? and I replied, "Duh. Do you think your capable of helping me?"
Or better yet, when they asks, "Is there something you need?" and I reply, "Hell, yeah. Give me all of my damned money and I'll go to another freakin' bank. Better yet, just give me all the damned money in the bank since that's what I REALLY need."
Okay, okay...I know what they would do if I did THAT, but still...It's tempting.
I have a friend who is quiet large and one day she went into a local business hoping to buy play shirts for her grand-daughters who are 6. She wasn't in that store but maybe 5 minutes when the owner comes up to her and says, "We don't have nothing that will fit you. We don't carry your size."
My friend turned around and walked out. She's a better Christian than I am...
At another shop in town, I stopped in one day browsing for sale items when the sales lady marches up to me and says, "Are you looking for something?" and her tone was not pleasant. She didn't ask if I was looking for something specific, just "are you looking for something". So, being my sweet self I replied sarcastically, "Aren't you on the ball today." She looked at me blankly before repeating herself, "Are you looking for something?" To which I replied, "Not anymore. I just remembered it's in a better store." I left her standing there with a frown...Hey, at least I left her standing.
A few months back I went into a Chili's and stood by the little sign that read, "Please wait to be seated." A few minutes passed and then I sloppy looking hostess supposed-to-be comes up and asked me suspiciously, "Can I help you?" I pointed to the sign and she gave me a dumb look, so I said, "I would like to get a table and eat lunch, IF that's okay with you."
Another no-brainer...I'm in an eatery, standing by a sign that tells me I have to wait to be seated and the hostess wants to know if she can help me???
In the defense of all the rude tellers, sales people, hostesses and such I will say that I have quiet an attitude and it doesn't take me much to get riled...However, whatever happened to common courtesy, general politeness and a little friendly service?
Wherever it is, I would sure like to have it back...
Rudeness. People are just rude these days and it is everywhere. it is rare to find people who are polite anymore and I wonder why that is?
When I was growing up we showed respect to our elders, even if they were cranky and irritating. We didn't talk back to our elders unless we wanted red stripes on our behinds or Momma's hand slapping our mouths faster than the speed of light. When I started working at about 15 at a small corner grocery store and gas station, the first thing I was taught was to always be polite to the customers, greet everyone who entered the store with a smile on my face and to always thank them for their business when they left.
I've never forgotten that and all these years later, I still expect it of others...I just don't get that kind treatment as often as I used to, and neither does anyone else.
I have dealt with banks since I was about 16 and can't even count the times I've used the drive-up window. I pull up, the teller sees me, smiles and pops the little drawer out to me as she asks, "How are you today?" We make small talk as she takes my deposit or cashes my check and then she thanks me as I leave.
It's pretty much a no-brainer...Person drives up to window, teller recognizes person and pops the drawer out because she knows there is a 99% chance the person will either put money in or take money out...I mean, there are signs posted that read, "Money Orders can only be purchased from teller inside bank" and "Loan payments must be paid at the Loan Department, not the Drive-thru"...
About 10 months ago we changed banks and every week I make a deposit into our account. I have never driven up to the window and asked my balance, nor have I ever tried to pay a loan or purchase a money order from the drive-thru. I put money in and I take money out...That's it.
And every Friday I pull up to the bank drive thru window and the teller, one of three, looks out the window at me and stands there. The drawer doesn't pop-out...She just looks at me.
I say, "Hello?" impatiently and then she pushes the little intercom and sometimes says, "Yes?"
Or sometimes she says, "Uh, can I help you?"
Other times she might say, "Is there something you need?"
Okay...Forgive me if I'm not understanding this situation, but I'm at a freakin' drive-thru bank window holding money in my hand as a 6 year old sits in the back seat asking if he's going to get a sticker this time and these tellers don't comprehend WHY I'm there???
I wonder what they would do if they said, "Yes?" and I replied, "NO?" I wonder how far that conversation would travel...
Or, if they asked, "Uh, can I help you? and I replied, "Duh. Do you think your capable of helping me?"
Or better yet, when they asks, "Is there something you need?" and I reply, "Hell, yeah. Give me all of my damned money and I'll go to another freakin' bank. Better yet, just give me all the damned money in the bank since that's what I REALLY need."
Okay, okay...I know what they would do if I did THAT, but still...It's tempting.
I have a friend who is quiet large and one day she went into a local business hoping to buy play shirts for her grand-daughters who are 6. She wasn't in that store but maybe 5 minutes when the owner comes up to her and says, "We don't have nothing that will fit you. We don't carry your size."
My friend turned around and walked out. She's a better Christian than I am...
At another shop in town, I stopped in one day browsing for sale items when the sales lady marches up to me and says, "Are you looking for something?" and her tone was not pleasant. She didn't ask if I was looking for something specific, just "are you looking for something". So, being my sweet self I replied sarcastically, "Aren't you on the ball today." She looked at me blankly before repeating herself, "Are you looking for something?" To which I replied, "Not anymore. I just remembered it's in a better store." I left her standing there with a frown...Hey, at least I left her standing.
A few months back I went into a Chili's and stood by the little sign that read, "Please wait to be seated." A few minutes passed and then I sloppy looking hostess supposed-to-be comes up and asked me suspiciously, "Can I help you?" I pointed to the sign and she gave me a dumb look, so I said, "I would like to get a table and eat lunch, IF that's okay with you."
Another no-brainer...I'm in an eatery, standing by a sign that tells me I have to wait to be seated and the hostess wants to know if she can help me???
In the defense of all the rude tellers, sales people, hostesses and such I will say that I have quiet an attitude and it doesn't take me much to get riled...However, whatever happened to common courtesy, general politeness and a little friendly service?
Wherever it is, I would sure like to have it back...
Monday, October 22, 2007
Sometimes It's A Bitch
The first time I heard this song by Stevie Nicks I had to go back and listen to it over and over again. It probably describes the ups and downs of my life better than I ever could...
Sometimes It's A Bitch written by Jon Bon Jovi & Billy Falcon
Well I've run through rainbows and castles of candy
I cried a river of tears from the pain
I try to dance with what life has to hand me
My partner's been pleasure...My partner's been pain....
There are days when I swear I could fly like an eagle
And dark desperate hours that nobody sees
My arms stretched triumphant on top of the mountain
My head in my hands...down on my knees...
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
Sometimes love's blind...and sometimes it sees
Sometimes it's roses...and, sometimes it's weeds
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
I've reached in darkness and come out with treasure
I've laid down with love and woke up with lies
What's it all worth only the heart can measure
It's not what's in the mirror...but what's left inside...
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
Sometimes love's blind...and sometimes it sees
Sometimes it's roses...and, sometimes it's weeds
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze...
You gotta take it as it comes
Sometimes it don't come easy
I've run through rainbows and castles of candy
And I've cried a river of tears from the pain
I tried to dance with what life had to give me
And if I could...I'd do it all over again...
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
Sometimes love's blind...and sometimes it sees
Sometimes it's roses...and sometimes it's weeds
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
Sometimes the picture just ain't what it seems
You get what you want...but it's not what you need-
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes...it's a breeze....
Sometimes It's A Bitch written by Jon Bon Jovi & Billy Falcon
Well I've run through rainbows and castles of candy
I cried a river of tears from the pain
I try to dance with what life has to hand me
My partner's been pleasure...My partner's been pain....
There are days when I swear I could fly like an eagle
And dark desperate hours that nobody sees
My arms stretched triumphant on top of the mountain
My head in my hands...down on my knees...
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
Sometimes love's blind...and sometimes it sees
Sometimes it's roses...and, sometimes it's weeds
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
I've reached in darkness and come out with treasure
I've laid down with love and woke up with lies
What's it all worth only the heart can measure
It's not what's in the mirror...but what's left inside...
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
Sometimes love's blind...and sometimes it sees
Sometimes it's roses...and, sometimes it's weeds
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze...
You gotta take it as it comes
Sometimes it don't come easy
I've run through rainbows and castles of candy
And I've cried a river of tears from the pain
I tried to dance with what life had to give me
And if I could...I'd do it all over again...
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
Sometimes love's blind...and sometimes it sees
Sometimes it's roses...and sometimes it's weeds
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes it's a breeze
Sometimes the picture just ain't what it seems
You get what you want...but it's not what you need-
Sometimes it's a bitch...sometimes...it's a breeze....
My Husband's Vocabulary
NOTE:
I wrote this in an email and sent it to various people in my address book of which 95% were family. Every single person replied with laughter, save one...She was the wife of my husband's long time friend and had once dated my husband. Her reply to me was scathing as she reprimanded me for "making fun" of my spouse. I post this on my blog in her honor:)
Larry came in yesterday evening and said, "I've come to a colusive."
I said, "You came to a WHAT?"
He said, "I came to a clusion."
I was not in a good mood that day and got mad so fast it made my head spin. But, I clinched my jaw and said, "CONCLUSION. You arrived at a CONCLUSION!"
He said, "Yeah, a conclusive." Then he proceeded to tell me that he needed 16' boards, and so forth as I turned back to the stove, rolling my eyes I'm sure, and positive that I married a hillbilly straight out of "Deliverance".
I told Abby today and she and I shared the first hearty laugh we've had in a long time!
I just wish that he would quit trying to use words he can't pronounce.
Over the years we've owned "a isolating fan" and he's forever "gonna learn somebody somethin.", and he used to say that Philip "had no ambunction". I don't know about Philip, but I wouldn't want to have that either!
But if I ever, and I mean EVER, come to a colusive, or a clusion, or even a conclusive, I don't think I'll tell a soul.
I wrote this in an email and sent it to various people in my address book of which 95% were family. Every single person replied with laughter, save one...She was the wife of my husband's long time friend and had once dated my husband. Her reply to me was scathing as she reprimanded me for "making fun" of my spouse. I post this on my blog in her honor:)
Larry came in yesterday evening and said, "I've come to a colusive."
I said, "You came to a WHAT?"
He said, "I came to a clusion."
I was not in a good mood that day and got mad so fast it made my head spin. But, I clinched my jaw and said, "CONCLUSION. You arrived at a CONCLUSION!"
He said, "Yeah, a conclusive." Then he proceeded to tell me that he needed 16' boards, and so forth as I turned back to the stove, rolling my eyes I'm sure, and positive that I married a hillbilly straight out of "Deliverance".
I told Abby today and she and I shared the first hearty laugh we've had in a long time!
I just wish that he would quit trying to use words he can't pronounce.
Over the years we've owned "a isolating fan" and he's forever "gonna learn somebody somethin.", and he used to say that Philip "had no ambunction". I don't know about Philip, but I wouldn't want to have that either!
But if I ever, and I mean EVER, come to a colusive, or a clusion, or even a conclusive, I don't think I'll tell a soul.
What is More Important?
Not long ago I made a decision, after much thought and even more prayer, to speak out about an issue that, until then, no one else had cared enough to address. I knew that my courage would drastically change lives and effect those involved for the better, though I also knew those people would not see it as such. Yet I followed through...
A life was saved, perhaps two, and these lives have been changed for the better...And yet these persons do not, can not, perhaps will not admit this. Maybe it is too soon. Or, maybe they will forever be incapable of comprehending.
All I know is that I had to sleep with myself every night and live with myself every waking hour and I could not in good conscience turn my head and look the other way.
I am far from perfect...No one has to tell me thus, nor should anyone feel led to convince me of such by pointing out all of my failures. My mistakes are too many to count in even a single day, but I do know right from wrong and I do know that God did not give me intuition and eyes to see to have me turn away and ignore wrong doing when it is within my abilities to correct or find solutions that would lead to a more productive and safer life for others.
If you see a child being abused, do you turn away and hope that child is rescued, or do you make a call and continue to make those calls until that child is helped?
If you see an elderly person being neglected, do you wish them well as you go about your meaningless business and say it's not your problem, or do you step in and help that person recieve care with love and respect, allowing them to maintain their dignity?
If you see a woman whose spouse/partner abuses her, do you run away as fast as you can and judge her for staying, or do you step up to the plate with courage as you offer her your love and support as you find a way to strengthen her to the point she gains courage and leaves the abuser for a safe house because she knows it's not her fault and she is worth saving?
Would you be willing to sacrifice your cozy little smooth running life to give a special child a home, take an elderly person in or maybe even put yourself in danger to save one life?
If you wouldn't, that's you choice; But if you would, then you know what true love is all about and this world is a better place just because you are here.
The hardest thing I've ever learned in life was that life wasn't all about ME.
The easiest thing I've ever learned in life is that life IS about everyone else.
A life was saved, perhaps two, and these lives have been changed for the better...And yet these persons do not, can not, perhaps will not admit this. Maybe it is too soon. Or, maybe they will forever be incapable of comprehending.
All I know is that I had to sleep with myself every night and live with myself every waking hour and I could not in good conscience turn my head and look the other way.
I am far from perfect...No one has to tell me thus, nor should anyone feel led to convince me of such by pointing out all of my failures. My mistakes are too many to count in even a single day, but I do know right from wrong and I do know that God did not give me intuition and eyes to see to have me turn away and ignore wrong doing when it is within my abilities to correct or find solutions that would lead to a more productive and safer life for others.
If you see a child being abused, do you turn away and hope that child is rescued, or do you make a call and continue to make those calls until that child is helped?
If you see an elderly person being neglected, do you wish them well as you go about your meaningless business and say it's not your problem, or do you step in and help that person recieve care with love and respect, allowing them to maintain their dignity?
If you see a woman whose spouse/partner abuses her, do you run away as fast as you can and judge her for staying, or do you step up to the plate with courage as you offer her your love and support as you find a way to strengthen her to the point she gains courage and leaves the abuser for a safe house because she knows it's not her fault and she is worth saving?
Would you be willing to sacrifice your cozy little smooth running life to give a special child a home, take an elderly person in or maybe even put yourself in danger to save one life?
If you wouldn't, that's you choice; But if you would, then you know what true love is all about and this world is a better place just because you are here.
The hardest thing I've ever learned in life was that life wasn't all about ME.
The easiest thing I've ever learned in life is that life IS about everyone else.
The First Norther
I love the fall and today we had our first real norther of the season. I awoke to yellow skies that soon turned gray as the rain begin to fall in a slow drizzle. Before long the southerly winds shifted to northerly, the rains begin to fall heavier and the winds begin to blow the cool air over us.
When I was a kid, this time of year meant Trick or Treating, Fall Festivals, hog killing and hunting season. It meant Thanksgiving, wonderful food and Christmas, along with grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins I loved, but never got to spend enough time with.
Wood smoke, cracklin's and freshly baked sweet potatoes on a 40 degree day bring back pleasant memories.
The lazy afternoons: too cold to go out and play while Momma had her nap, I'd stay in my room and day dream for hours until I, too, would fall asleep.
As I grow older I think my best memories are the simple ones...The smells of Pappaw's smokehouse the day after he killed hogs; the feel of the cold on my face as my brother, Jim, and I rode my old horse, Star, through our pine sapling trails and ate cold biscuits for our picnic; tagging along with my younger brothers, Jim & Nathan, as they hunted squirrels and hoped for something larger; running outside to look up into the skies and find that first flock of geese heading south for the winter; day dreaming in my room on cold Saturday & Sunday afternoons because there was nothing else to do...How blessed I was then, and how very blessed I am now to have these precious memories.
But more than memories, I was blessed to have a home where I was safe and comfortable and warm and free to day dream on cold, lazy weekend afternoons.
I'll never smell Pappaw's smokehouse again, nor will Jim and I ever find a horse strong enough to carry both of us down any trails anywhere, and I doubt I'll ever tag along behind he and Nathan as they hunt squirrel, but I can go out and scan the skies for the geese heading south and I can still find times to daydream...and if I'm lucky, I might even sneak a nap in...As the first norther of the season rolls in...My old friend has returned.
When I was a kid, this time of year meant Trick or Treating, Fall Festivals, hog killing and hunting season. It meant Thanksgiving, wonderful food and Christmas, along with grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins I loved, but never got to spend enough time with.
Wood smoke, cracklin's and freshly baked sweet potatoes on a 40 degree day bring back pleasant memories.
The lazy afternoons: too cold to go out and play while Momma had her nap, I'd stay in my room and day dream for hours until I, too, would fall asleep.
As I grow older I think my best memories are the simple ones...The smells of Pappaw's smokehouse the day after he killed hogs; the feel of the cold on my face as my brother, Jim, and I rode my old horse, Star, through our pine sapling trails and ate cold biscuits for our picnic; tagging along with my younger brothers, Jim & Nathan, as they hunted squirrels and hoped for something larger; running outside to look up into the skies and find that first flock of geese heading south for the winter; day dreaming in my room on cold Saturday & Sunday afternoons because there was nothing else to do...How blessed I was then, and how very blessed I am now to have these precious memories.
But more than memories, I was blessed to have a home where I was safe and comfortable and warm and free to day dream on cold, lazy weekend afternoons.
I'll never smell Pappaw's smokehouse again, nor will Jim and I ever find a horse strong enough to carry both of us down any trails anywhere, and I doubt I'll ever tag along behind he and Nathan as they hunt squirrel, but I can go out and scan the skies for the geese heading south and I can still find times to daydream...and if I'm lucky, I might even sneak a nap in...As the first norther of the season rolls in...My old friend has returned.
Why a blog?
Why have I created my own blog...
My initial response would be, I don't know.
However, that's from my more flippant side...Because the real reason I've created this blog is for myself and my friends...those people who believe in me and what I write.
Writing has been a part of me since I was about ten years of age. I've written poetry and I've written essays: I've written short stories and I have a collection of unfinished books of fiction. And, of course, I write about things that happen in my every day life: funny things, sad things, things that piss me off and things that I deem important to who I am and what I believe.
My Life truly IS a Garden...
There's the dirt...some of it good and fertile, some of it lacking anything but the filth.
There is the grass...sometimes it makes for a nice place to lie back and enjoy it's softness, but then sometimes it overtakes the garden and needs to be cut or pulled out completely.
There are the flowers, the plants, the shrubs and trees...Beautiful pieces of life that only GOD could have created.
There are the weeds...Yeah, I've got lots of weeds because I don't spend enough time weeding and controlling the little demons that sometimes grow too large and overtake the creations of GOD.
Finally there are the garden pests...The aggravating, life-sucking bearers of destruction and disease that threaten to undermine and destroy my garden. Sometimes these are actual, real people...but sometimes these things are my own inner demons...
And, so, I begin this journey of blogging in hopes that I'll make you laugh, far and above all else. If you just happen to walk away with something deeper than a tickle of your funny bone, then I will have accomplished more than I had hoped for.
May GOD bless you and keep you and may you always know HIS love for you.
My initial response would be, I don't know.
However, that's from my more flippant side...Because the real reason I've created this blog is for myself and my friends...those people who believe in me and what I write.
Writing has been a part of me since I was about ten years of age. I've written poetry and I've written essays: I've written short stories and I have a collection of unfinished books of fiction. And, of course, I write about things that happen in my every day life: funny things, sad things, things that piss me off and things that I deem important to who I am and what I believe.
My Life truly IS a Garden...
There's the dirt...some of it good and fertile, some of it lacking anything but the filth.
There is the grass...sometimes it makes for a nice place to lie back and enjoy it's softness, but then sometimes it overtakes the garden and needs to be cut or pulled out completely.
There are the flowers, the plants, the shrubs and trees...Beautiful pieces of life that only GOD could have created.
There are the weeds...Yeah, I've got lots of weeds because I don't spend enough time weeding and controlling the little demons that sometimes grow too large and overtake the creations of GOD.
Finally there are the garden pests...The aggravating, life-sucking bearers of destruction and disease that threaten to undermine and destroy my garden. Sometimes these are actual, real people...but sometimes these things are my own inner demons...
And, so, I begin this journey of blogging in hopes that I'll make you laugh, far and above all else. If you just happen to walk away with something deeper than a tickle of your funny bone, then I will have accomplished more than I had hoped for.
May GOD bless you and keep you and may you always know HIS love for you.
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