Suggested reading....

You must consider reading Meg's post of late, titled, "How Not to Finish Your Thesis" @ http://meganwrites.blogspot.com/

Man is still the most extraordinary computer of all. --John F Kennedy

Day 7 of the Twelve Days of Thanksgiving---

I sat down tonight with the computer…I get error message, illegal applications, virus alerts etc. All activities cease and my laptop is put through a rigorous workout with Adware removal, AVG virus scan, Spybot, CWShredder, updates and installation repairs…it’s about to be defragged but I wanted to get my post up before I set it into defrag mode. No guess about what I am thankful for tonight; the means to set my laptop in order when it is all out of kilter. Of course, it is a slow process, so after I stared a couple of the apps I turned it over to George who really gave it the work over. He’s the trusted computer guru in this family.
I was thinking…as I lay there on the couch exhausted from the workout my personal trainer gave me early this morning…drifting in and out of consciousness…how nice it would be to run some software on myself when I have a virus, if I’m running sluggishly, or if I’m out of date I can get simple updates. Even better, when my thinking gets all scattered, if I could run a defrag that puts all of my thinking in order so that it’s easier to access what is important quickly. Imagine that…

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.”--Seneca

Day 6 of the Twelve Days of Thanksgiving-----

Today, I received an email from a friend who has had a great influence on my role as a mother and wife. Although we have been distant due to raising our children and going different directions in employment, her email was so encouraging as she was just as open with me as she was years ago. I felt blessed along with comforted. The email made me recall my introduction to shrimp years ago…standing at her sink, peeling and de-veining them and her getting me to try them…now, …thanks to her and my husband I’m a shrimp diva!

Today, the doctor told Becky he would not induce even though Emily is already 7 lbs and 15 ozs. Becky and Craig are irritated and anxious…for Emily’s arrival. A week past her due date, feeling apprehensive regarding the size of her Emily Brooke, they look forward to the day.

Today, my mother is getting released from the hospital. She will have outpatient therapy at Cardinal Hill Hospital. Although at times the relationship has been strained, I see my attitude towards our relationship changing.

Today, my sister called to tell me she was heading back to North Carolina. The air is different in our conversations, too. She listens more to how I feel about things instead of telling me how I am wrong for feeling the way I do. Maybe, we could be friends again, someday.

Today, Anna and Rosie called to check in about Thanksgiving dinner the day before Thanksgiving…Yes, they will be here…Megan won’t be. I wish I could tell you why, but I don’t have permission to blast her and Silas’s private life on my blog. And what she is experiencing I am so happy for her, yet, it is creating a change that is hard to adjust to…and if the Richard Cranium who has the say over Becky’s day to be induced makes her wait until Tuesday, as he stated today, then they won’t be able to attend either. And the change is sad to think about. I want us all together. I know in my heart I raised them all to be on their own, but as they grow and each separate entity decides what plan is best for their individual family, I sigh knowing I will not always be a part of each happening. I guess I have selfish issues to deal with. At least the selfish part is laced with admiration and excitement for each one.

Today, I turned in my resignation/transfer papers to my place of employment. I will be starting my new employment December the 10th. I have been anxiously awaiting this change for some time now. It’s finally happening….

Today, a family friend called and asked if reservations for our double date could be at 5:30 PM Saturday night. This is a guy I have gotten so use to seeing at our home, single, chatting with my husband. Now at 52, he’s married for the first time…and he wants us to be a part of his new life.

So, on the 6th day of The Twelve Days of Thanksgiving, I am thankful for new beginnings…new beginnings in families, relationships, employment, and of course, attitudes.

Bonecrushing Cold

I went to see a personal trainer today, Whitney @ Focused Energy, so I can get beat up real good BEFORE I am in academy. You know break myself in and get used to it. She beat me up, for sure. It doesn’t matter how in shape you may be, if you switch up your routine and allow a trainer to decide your fate, you will walk away an hour later, feeling good but spent. But that is not what I am writing about today. Today is the 5th day of the Twelve Days of Thanksgiving. I walked into Focused Energy in a pair of shorts, thin long sleeve shirt and a little jacket. I walked out of the place with snow falling and the wind whipping about. Everything changed and it turned winter. I thought back to driving William to school this morning and at 7:50AM. The thermometer read 43 degrees. Now it is snowing? Too crazy for me…But I know what to do. I go home and put on a winter sweater. Of course, today it’s the sweater that is light blue and has makeshift snowflakes on it. George stayed home from work today as to ensure the safety of those who would have been driving beside him on the road (experiencing symptoms from the medications he was prescribed yesterday). He was wearing a big black sweatshirt. Cozy clothes. Today I am thankful for warm, inviting, comfy clothes (and thrown in some ibuprofen…for my poor achy body). They make the grocery trip and the visit at the hospital much more endurable.

Beam me up, Scotty!

The alarm went off at 6:45 am. Time to get the doughnuts. William attends a weekly Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting at school on Wednesdays. It is his turn to bring the doughnuts. We have to leave at 7:20 am to ensure he arrives on time at 7:45am, so he is getting ready while I am gone. I get back from Krispy Kreme, feed the dog, take Papa coffee in bed, and out the door we go.
I hurry back home to shower and make it on time to Leestown Rd. for a pre-employment medical exam for the Police dept. Yes, on a day where I was suppose to fast, the aroma of Krispy Kreme doughnuts was wafting about me. I make it on time. Fill out paperwork and paperwork and paperwork…something the younger recruits don’t have to worry with as much due to being “less seasoned.” Into the hearing test booth, eye chart, color blindness tests, depth perception test, blood pressure and pulse…onto the pee test…don’t flush, I kept telling myself…I’m always afraid I will forget and flush. I’m not certain if loud bells sound or if the nurse will just stop all testing and send me home…so I just repeat to myself as I hover over the toilet with the little pee catching cup, do not flush, do not flush. On to the weigh in, height measuring and breathing test...blow until I tell you to stop she says. Blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, she repeats very quickly, until at last she says, stop. I think I have succeeded in yet one more test until she tells me we will do this two more times…onto the blood draw…onto the exam room where I am advised, “Due to your age, you will have to have an EKG, also.” Nice…I’m the only recruit that had to have an EKG. Ain’t I special?
Finally, the physical exam by the doctor…bend over, bend side to side, bend forward, push down, pull up, stick out your tongue, breath in, then out, let me bang on your knees, look at the light on the wall, hold still, stand with your feet together and close your eyes, etc…Until all is complete and I have passed.
I stop by the jail to take a photo of a cookbook for the CCPC group I belong. The Sarge has asked me to take a photo for a flyer that will advise the facility of a special Christmas price. And then I hurry home to visit with Papa on his lunch break. The Schwan’s truck shows up as soon as I get home. I must get an order together and then straighten the freezer so all my items can all fit in there. I wish they really did have a freezer stretcher…
After lunch break, I go to Galls to be measured and fitted for academy training clothing, and duty belts. Next stop is Kentucky Uniforms where I am fitted for Class B uniforms, Class A and B footwear, hats, gloves, cold weather gear, etc. First time I have ever had a Kevlar vest on. And the Class A hat….well, you’ll see eventually.
It’s almost time to pick William up from school but I right here by Sam’s club. I think I can run in a pick up the few items I need in fifteen minutes time so in I go. I step in and my phone rings…it’s my sister, the one that lives in North Carolina…she’s here in Lexington. She’s been here since Monday. Why? Because she tells me, Mom had three strokes Saturday and was admitted to the hospital Sunday. You probably think you aren’t reading this right as surely if my mother were in the hospital for four days, I would have heard about it before now. But no, you’re reading this right…My mother who just had a kidney removed due to a tennis ball size mass attached to it is now in the hospital having suffered three strokes because they took her off her blood thinner for 7 days for the surgery. I am upset…I’m in Sam’s Club. I continue on. I grab the things I need as I am hearing my sister talk and make up excuses for not letting me know before now and Craig calls. I tell Melanie I must call her back…Craig could be needed me to take Becky to the hospital or something. He does not. He is upset and trying to get a hold of Papa. I advise him that Papa is at the walk in clinic, his back is so tight and sore he is having difficulty getting around. So, he shares with me…he wants to quit his job, he’s sick of the hassles; he wants to be at home with his little pregnant woman. He’s pissed that the officer manager told him he cannot have a week off when Becky goes into labor. I am in Sam’s Club, just advised my mother is in the hospital, struggling with her memory and Craig is on the phone, distressed, I am trying to calm him as I hear a loud pounding sound on the building ceiling. Were you out today at 3PM? Yeah, I had to walk to the truck in the pouring down rain with a box of items too heavy to run with, no jacket, in a dress shirt and slacks. BUT…I made it on time to pick up William and it doesn’t matter that I was soaked to the bone. Good conversation on the way home. You know driving aids with conversations with your teen. It’s been that way with all of my children. I get home, fix coffee and feed the dog. Ariel came over to go with me to the hospital, but first I need to go pick up Papa’s prescriptions. Ariel and I do this, drop them off at home. I remind Pa that William needs to be at church by 6:30 and head to St. Joe on Harrodsburg Rd. Ariel stuck with me the whole time. Bless her little heart and her little boot that she drags around with her. How nice it was to have her with me…She was a blessing. We stayed with Mom for a bit over two hours and came on home. We worked on Mom’s memory really good. She tripped up a bit here and there calling her husband by my Dad’s name and her brother, her son’s name…but for the most part she was on target. She had to slow down and think…”Don’t tell me, she’d say…let me think.” She was in very good spirits. And we left her that way. She will have to have therapy at Cardinal Hill. We left in time for me to get Ariel back to the house to her car, eat something and then I left again to pick William up from church. The muscle relaxer and pain reliever that George was taking rendered him useless and zonked out on the couch. William was ready when I arrived and still pumped up. A condition I cannot understand…some kind of teen disease. It’s only sprinkling when we arrive home at 9:15 PM and Winston is begging for a walk. He usually gets a walk earlier in the day, but…this day did not show opportunity until now at 9:15 PM. Around the block we go. It’s almost ten before I can sit down to write, but the kitchen is clean and the dishwasher running. George is zonked out in the bed. I haven’t even mentioned the 15 other phone calls of the day, or the emails I had to answer…the letter of resignation I had to send to the Home Owners Association, etc. Was this just one day, I wonder. Yes, just about thirteen hours ago, it began. It ends with me being thankful on DAY 4 for clarity of mind. Staying lucid during a delirious day.

Men are happy to be laughed at for their humor, but not for their folly.----Jonathan Swift

Day 3 of the Twelve Days of Thanksgiving------

I’m sitting at my kitchen table; George and Ed are working on something with Ed’s laptop. I am pretending to be busy here at the other end of the table…and I’m listening…and I’ve decided on day three…I’m thankful for men. They are a hoot to listen to. They dream big…they work big…they think big…are these men from Texas?! They are talking about Ed and his new wife traveling on motorcycle to California and even as far as Alaska. On motorcycle? Oh, yes, with a cargo thing pulled by the motorcycle that will hold the yurt. Of course, they will sleep in some hotels, but you can build a fire in the middle of the yurt and snow is a great insulator, are some of the things I am hearing in the conversation. And snow baths, Ed’s not certain about how that works, so George imitates holding a ball of snow and scrubbing his arm pits, shivering and shaking. Wish I could have caught that on camera. George with his black fedora and reading glasses taking a fake snow bath. Geez…
They start discussing hats…fedora’s…and Ed tries on George’s and they laugh about how it’s so big on Ed…probably because George has some much brain in there, Ed adds.
George is cleaning up his computer, he’s playing the role of parent forcing the youth to let go of not needed stuff. He asks when was the last time you used Google Earth? Well, I really haven’t ever used it; I just keep meaning to…Ed replies. This creates rolling laughter. They are extremely entertaining, ladies. Then they start discussing how they are senior citizens. This is so wrong! I feel like I am eavesdropping on sensitive material. “Better quotes on auto insurance because you have withstood the test of time…they like us…seniors…because we’ve lasted so long.”
My man in particular…this “ole” man I am married to…makes me feel blessed. I cannot imagine life without him. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said, “Who is the happiest of men? He who values the merits of others, and in their pleasure takes joy, even as though t'were his own.” That is what my husband is like…this new adventure I am embarking upon…it’s part of him, too.
He loves me deeply and I can tell this despite his handicap of being a man.
I am in total agreement with Joanne Woodward, Paul Newman’s wife who has said, “Sexiness wears thin after a while, but to be married to a man who makes you laugh everyday. Ah, now that is a treat.”
This posting could keep going and going if I were to mention the other men I am thankful for.
I could never be anti-men.

This is the heroic expantant moma...

Of course, she is ready to hold little Emily in her arms...she is ready to not feel miserable...but Emily is not ready. And so we wait...Ariel and I want to make it all better for Becky...and Craig. However, timing is important and who are we to decide. Becky looks great...and is exceptionally patient. I just want everyone to know...I'm so very proud of her!

Music's the medicine of the mind. ~John A. Logan

Day 2 of the Twelve Days of Thanksgiving---

I find myself thankful for music, all kinds of music. Yesterday in church, as I stood there singing, “Oh, how marvelous, Oh, how wonderful and my song shall ever be. Oh, how marvelous, Oh, how wonderful is my Savior’s love for me.” I was singing with an attitude of praise. My heart was lifted. I felt at ease and free from worry, full of hope.
Today I sang in the kitchen to the soundtrack of Mary Poppins while preparing Craig’s birthday cake. As Bert and I sang, “Step in Time” I thought about Craig turning 24 and waiting for his first born to arrive…a big step in time…from my experience 24 years ago. Around lunch time, George came home, and “Fever” was playing in the background…”you give me fever… when you touch me. Baby, when you hold me tight…” A whole different spark, you see, music can lead us in our thought processing. IF you doubt that, listen to nothing but a country station for a few days and see just how down and out you may come to feel. I can only hear so much about someone’s partner walking out on them, ten rounds of Jose Cuervo, someone’s loved one died or if you’re reading this I’m dead…till it makes me want to curl up in the bed with a bottle of southern comfort and mourn. Maybe, I am just of an easily influenced mind…but it gets to me. Not only can it bring you down, but music inspires. It can lead me down roads of travel I cannot attempt to locate without the musical notes. Someday, maybe, you will be able to hear Anna play the piano. She like my friend, Miss Connie, can line gooseflesh along your body as they play their soul on the keys. Anna also writes her songs and sings. If you are ever interested, go to http://www.myspace.com/annacshepherd . My favorite is “I Have To.” It’s a song of encouragement and hope for a friend. They are all good…Try them out…
I must have a juke box in my head…I seem to think of a song for so many occasions. Someone can say something and it causes a song to run through my head. Again, highly suggestible, I could be. I’m sure I’m not alone.
To whistle Fur Elise can change my mood…and you can adjust that tune to whatever your mood…just check out all the ways it’s adjusted to different personalities on YouTube. I forever think of Peanut’s Christmas when I whistle it.
Music can even move animals. Winston is highly moved when Ariel plays the piano…when we sing Happy Birthday to anyone (he sings with us)…and when George plays the guitar. He just moans and carries on like one of those ole hound dogs off of the Hee Haw show.
If you listen close you can hear Winston in the background moaning…as George is playing a piece he wrote sometime last year.

I’m thankful for the “sound of music”…both literally and figuratively (It's one of my favorite movies). Music is one of those creations I wouldn’t want to live without.

A Thankful Heart is a Grateful Heart

In keeping with http://www.viewfromthefishbowl.blogspot.com/ and

http://dontgivehimcrackers.blogspot.com/ and thier call for giving thanks...

It's Day 1 for me…and I find myself thankful for numbers.

Today is 11/11/2007 and I would simply love for my newest granddaughter (due yesterday) to enter the world on this day. The date bounces and rhymes when you say it. It’s almost a chant…eleven, eleven, two thousand seven…
It also has a significant value to me. While it may seem silly to the average person, it brings great delight to me. For years I have looked at the clock when it was 11:11, never meaning to, it just happens. I look up and there it is, 11:11, on my computer, my wristwatch, the clocks around the house, bank clocks, etc. If I am in a safe place, like home or on the phone with someone who is understanding of my ambiguous behavior, I will blurt out, “11:11! It’s 11:11!” They are like little mini celebrations, of what, I wasn’t sure. Until this past year. I realized my birthday, 6/5/65, (Yes, I just put personal information on the Internet for any criminal to take advantage of. Just know I am not good at playing the victim role and should someone use my birth date for their ill gain, they will be prosecuted. Plain and simple.) So, if you add the 6/5 and the next 65 you get… YES! 11- 11!!! I enjoy this thought immensely. It’s “my” time. So, I had it tattooed on my lower back. It’s the only tattoo of it’s kind…I expressed my idea to the tattoo artist of how I wanted to use a Salvador Dali distorted pocket watch with a vine I draw when I am bored or thinking. The hands on the clock don’t really look like they say 11:11 but they are distorted also…in that the hand closest to you looks bigger than the hand furthest away. All in all it’s 11:11. “My time.”
You think the whole concept is asinine, don’t you? Disciplined, practical woman going so far as to tattoo her favorite time on her back…for me, it defines me and sets me apart…makes me easy to ID…(sorry, but it’s true), and “marks” me. But we’ll move on, if you are still with me…
All my youth and into my teenage years, I said, I would marry a George and have five children. This number thing is so intriguing…I did marry a George…and adding his three from a previous marriage, to my one from a previous marriage, and one the two of us created before we actually married…we had five children! What a sweet little group. We felt so blessed. God smiled down on us and give us a “special extra child” creating a sort of baker’s dozen…one extra in the mix just for the make certain it’s the right amount….Did you know that the baker’s dozen originated in the reign of Henry III where if the bakers shortchanged customers they were to be punished…severely…like hands cut off and such. So they threw in an extra just too make sure they didn’t short anyone. Numbers, numbers….they have numerous benefits!
One of our children has a 9/11 birthday. Which up until their 16th birthday, we never looked at it as 911. After that tragedy, it makes sense, and yet, encourages me that the same day can cause great heartache, and yet, it can also be a joyous day of celebration. 9/11 marks a good and an evil anniversary for me now.
Another of our children, was born on the 11th, met a wonderful man who was also born on the 11th and so they married on, yes, the 11th. Right now, their house number is 711…
Another of our children was born 11/12…keeping the numbers in sequence…
I am enthralled with all of this…Bear with me...The number issued to me on Friday for the physical test…was 142…Good guess, I am one who is 42...actually the only one that was 42…and furthermore, the oldest recruit? Let’s not discuss that part, it has no significance.
I could go on. But I will stop here and let you explore your own numbers…and I’ll continue to be thankful for mine.

The Witty World of William....

We were leaving church, this morning…William having youth class after the service, leaned over and asked if we would take his jacket home with us. “Are you hot?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he responded, “Most girls my age don’t think so, but I am.”
I’m grinning just typing it out….

While I was breading the chicken breast for lunch, I was talking to William about how great it would be Emmy B to be born on this day…”Eleven, Eleven, two thousand seven,” I said, “But unfortunately, it’s up to Emmy. She’s pretty comfortable where she is.” Then I shouted, “Come on out Emily!” William blurted, “Push her out, Becky!”…Then he raised his arm and shouted, “Fire in the hole!!!”

Have you seen my grandchildren lately?

Silas

Jacob

Molly


Silas and William were big buds on his summer visit.


Jacob striking a pose?

Waterbabies

Our little princess...

This is the best I have of our second princess, Emily...she's still baking...due to come out of the oven in three days...

A Peace Officer Promoting Peace

In January of 2006, after a year at the facility, I joined the Community Corrections Planning Committee (CCPC). A committee at our facility that is responsible for officer appreciation, hosting retirement celebrations, and community efforts such as helping/donating to the Ronald McDonald Home, Buddy Walk and such. The day I entered I expressed my desire to assist the community by creating a program for school age youth that encouraged making the right choices. The committee agreed and supported the idea. The training Corporal in charge of the committee allowed me to write a curriculum for the program so it could be submitted to appropriate administration. I submitted a curriculum for the elementary age; the Corporal in training reviewed it and made changes to it, placing it in a format to be reviewed. I then drew up a separate curriculum for middle school and high school age. It was also critiqued, submitted and approved. This whole process took a year! Yes, EVERYTHING moves slowly in a government setting. In the spring of this year, 2007, I sent letters regarding the program to all Fayette County Schools advising them of the available program and encouraging them to schedule uniformed officers to conduct sessions in individual classrooms. The program was presented to over 500 students before the summer break began. This week, our sessions were scheduled again and we presented to approximately 120 students, 3rd, 4th and 5th graders, six separate sessions.
Let me say right here, “Hats off to our teachers!” To spend 7 hours a day with the diversity, the energy, the needs for guidance, attention and care that these individuals, our teachers, face five days a week…having a part of the summer off is not even enough appreciation to show to them…nor are their salaries. I applaud your efforts to educate and be positive role models for our youth. It is simply exhausting, kind of like exercising though…exhausting but rewarding.
Today on Mrs. Who's Open Book blog she advised of those all over who are writing their thoughts about peace. As I stood in front of so many children today, dodging their stories and directing them to ask questions instead, receiving questions that made me flinch inside, seeing children that could use some tender loving care, and watching…watching them, some who already had a “I’m tough” attitude “Jail is cool”, another pretended to roll a joint and then proceeded to imitate taking a drag, he held his breathe and then slowly he released it, I knew what I wanted for these children, my grandchildren, children all over this planet. Peace. Peace in not having to worry about older teenage girls sexually harassing them. Peace in not worrying about their moms, their dads, being in jail. Peace without the influence of drugs and alcohol. Peace in knowing they will wake up to food and seasonally appropriate clothing. Peace that one finds in the comforting arms of those who love them unconditionally. Peace walking down the street, never to be bothered by a deviant stranger. Peace in entering the Internet highway without seeing harmful material or being approached by predators. Last month, I heard about a ten year old female committing suicide. This week I was told about a nine year old that was successful in taking his life. Peace, dear little ones.

Right here in our own community, we need to spread peace, making every effort to remember they need us. Maybe a smile is all we can give some, maybe, time or material possessions are possible. When our hands are tied and we have done all that we can do for the children of our community, may we remember to pray peace for them. May we live in such a way that we inspire others to be kind, caring and compassionate in doing so create an atmosphere that promotes peace.

Searching for Intelligible Language

I’ve tried to think of creative ways to advise my readers of my latest news. But, the words come in spurts like, “Yee Haw!”… “Woowee!”…”Ahhhh!” “Yeeeeeesssss!” and “Oh, My Goodness!”

Yesterday was the rule of five (the final selection process)…I waited and waited for the call…I heard through another officer that they completed the task about 5PM or so…No call for me that night…and so today, I was afraid to get on my home phone or my cell phone…certain that I would miss the call, I kept the phones beside me everywhere I went in the house. I’ll let you in on something. Phones and pots are about the same in that “watched pots never boil” and “watched phones never ring.” I gave up, laid the phone on the bar and sit down at the kitchen table with the latest Weight Watchers magazine. As I flipped through the magazine feeding the anxiety as many women do with the thought of food…it rang. I started yelling, “There it is! There it is! That’s my call!” Sure enough it was. When the Human Resources lady who has dealt with me now for sooooo long, asked, “I take it you are still interested in a position with the police department?” Even though my spirit was bouncing off the walls all over the room shouting, “Rock’em Sock’em Robots! You bet I am!!!” I remained calm and very professional answering, “Yes, Ma’am, I am still very interested.” The conversation continued with further details regarding the next physical testing day and scheduling for the medical exam. She further advised the class is scheduled to begin December 10th.

And so, I’m in. I’m ready like Freddy. I’m in like Flynn. I’m seriously deliriously ecstatic! I’m doing the dance!

"In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks." ~John Muir

Walking along a trail covered with dry, colorful leaves, listening to the crunch of each step and the birds alerting the forest to me, the intruder, surrounded by vivid multicolored trees, I find it hard to worry about the daily predicaments I feel I must solve and conquer in my everyday life. Here in amongst nature I am at ease, my mind is clear, I am inspired. My focus is on each step I take as rocks and roots along the trail can trip me up and steal my joy. I am sweating, my heart rate is up, I am breathing heavily and yet I move on…with joy in my heart. It was climbing up the old rocky creek bed at Big Hill that I made the connection…hiking builds character. The hard work is usually always rewarded in the end with a beautiful scene unable to be experienced unless I had worked hard to get there. I am physically stronger because of it…I am more experienced…it helps me practice preparedness…and mentally/emotionally I am inspired because of it. It’s an exercise in fortitude that enhances my everyday life.

Life can hit you with difficult relationships, difficult jobs, illnesses, etc…that if you work through them…watching out for those rocks and roots along the way that can trip you up…and keep moving through them, there is always a “pearl” at the end that makes it worth your time and effort. The pearl may be only the satisfaction of getting through the rough time. Like Molly exclaimed at the end our five mile hike a few weeks ago, “Mimi, you wore me out more than my gym teacher does!” Smiling really big and with a bit of puffiness she added, “And I feel really good about it!” Sticking to the task, pushing ourselves past what we think we can do creates stamina in us…gives us a determination that we can use in other areas when it is called for.

This hike at Big Hill was just William and me. We talked about hiking and how it relates to our walk through life.

And it was good.

I also reminded him of what he and my other children had heard so many times before…that I have one painting that is in my mind that I wish I had the skills to paint. It has been mental picture in my head for so many years. I can see it plain as day. It is an open area where there are several trees up close and the background is hills of trees but blurred…like a 3D picture, the focus is on just the three trees in the picture. Two of the trees have a touch of color on them, at the top and spreading down the ends of the branches. The third tree is still green but there are a few leaves turning red at the top. You can see two finger of God’s hand holding a normal size bucket of paint…it looks so small in between God’s fingers. The paint can is being held in such a way it is dripping drops of red paint onto the tree. I guess it was my childish thinking of years past of how the leaves turned color in the fall. I would paint that…if I could.

Then we talk about why the leaves truly turn. The science of it. Some people say science makes them believe there is no God. I find that science makes me more of a believer in an awesome, intricate designer…Just think the tree has a system much like the blood system we as humans have. Theirs is sap, ours is blood…either way, and it’s a life sustaining fluid that runs through the veins of each. When it is that perfect time, the tree starts shutting down its supply of sap. The tops of the trees, along with the edges of the longest branches began to turn color. Much like your finger would if you cut the circulation off from it. The leaves eventually die and fall off.

Now what makes me a believer in an intricate designer is that the same system is used in trees, people, animals, plants and so on…Anyone knows that when something is created the creator will reuse their best plan and make other changes but stick to the one ingenious part that needs no change. See, I think there is no way this could just happen…that the tree…and the human have the same system…life sustaining fluid running through a circulatory system.

I find it awesome…not only that the God I chose to believe in is a master designer…but that he chose to use the same design with us as He did the tree…even has a sense of humor, too, as our circulatory system gets older and doesn’t run as good, so do humans mark the seasons just as trees do…our hair turns gray, and even falls out…but that’s just a side note…you might not find that funny like I do…However, the tree’s sap flow is set up according to seasons and with each fall comes a dead and dreary winter…that evidently brings a brighter day as it turns to spring. Here I could get into the seasons of life…but I won’t. I do want to point out that again, the master planner who provides the trees to clean the air and provide oxygen…even sets into existence a plan to continue to clean the air and keep oxygen during the leafless winter weather…evergreens…just what the Doctor ordered.

Hope I haven’t lost you…the whole hike was not spent in deep discussion…As I hiked along in deep thought…William sporting his black rain poncho took on the role of a wraith (a tall, humanoid figure shrouded in a black cloak). He advised me as a wraith he moved like a spirit through the woods quickly. His only fear was the dragons that would be in the openings. As we stood on overlooks and the wind was blowing furiously. I was certain not to stand close to the edge as I might be blown off. The wind was whipping my rain poncho so hard I felt like a kite. I looked over at William and he was still a wraith. The wind was not blowing him…he was the wind.

FYI-You can double click on the photos to have a better view of Fall at Big Hill in Berea, KY

Slow and steady....

Buddy we met on the trail

William and I went hiking last Thursday. We left at 8:45, arrived at our destination in Berea and began our long walk at 9:45 am. We completed our walk about 1:00 and got back in time for me to shower and get to work. I’ve had a “blog” brewing even as I walked the trails. Here is it is six days later and I now have the time to place my thoughts in black and white...

…but like most of us who are not getting any younger, I have forgotten some of my most important thoughts. To be further honest, I’ve been a bit jealous over the time Mrs. Who has to place three postings up while I search for the time for this one. While I are being honest, here, I will add, that to spend time sleeping, eating and enjoying the sunshine on a beautiful scenic getaway probably has me greener than the fact of not having time to write. Is envy different from jealousy? Isn’t being envious wanting to have what another has instead of them having it? And jealousy is happy for the other to have it…but wants it, too. Or is that “jones-ing” I know the answer already…you don’t have to tell me…If you haven’t had a chance to vacation with Mrs. Who, you really ought to spend a minute or two with her in Puerto Vallarta at http://iknowwhereyoucanfindit.blogspot.com/ I think she should offer to take pictures for their menus there. Her food photos prompt me to know exactly what I would order if I were there.
Even LizzyBee found time to bless us with the Moose’s’ sweetness at http://www.moose-ontheloose.blogspot.com/ …who is such a young age is dealing with “promotions” at his daycare, a girlfriend, graduation from the “sippy” and newspaper reading. His life is on the move!
Claire turned three over the weekend and Ariel was able to post some really sweet photos of the little princess at http://www.viewfromthefishbowl.blogspot.com/ . Sarah and Nick are celebrating their first year of marriage at http://www.bio-girl.blogspot.com/ and sharing their trip with her sisters…which was excellent. Then to feel the pain that Lucy’s Mom was feeling, yet the excitement about her upcoming trip at http://musingsfromtheleftcoast.blogspot.com/ made me stop and realize. Maybe, I haven’t written because when I did have had time to write I have been immersed in my family’s blogs, as well as, a few friends’ blogs on MySpace. And it’s all good. It’s good to be sharing the ups and downs of family and family and not just be stuck in my own thoughts. I will hopefully get to my writing soon but for now, I’ve stopped beating myself up for lack of time and resigning to a positive line of thought--- I am connected.

And it’s good.

a natural moment

a chipmunk who was in the backyard running around through the dry fallen leaves...a very aggressive squirrel ran up to the chipmunk and appeared to be attacking it...they ran back and forth in a two foot line like there were imaginary lines drawn...(no blood or gore--an E rating moment)..with our cat Pikachu watching intently behind the screened in bedroom window...

Sick Days

I despise sick days. They throw a wrench in my schedule and make me feel like a wimp. Totally despise them. However, it's a great thing be blessed with the Internet when having to endure sick days. This is day number three that I have called in sick. My life is plying up around me and I feel as if I am accomplishing zilch, zip, notta. So, I decided to create a blog that meshes with my families blogs. I have written on MySpace for some time now and today decided to transferred some of my writings to this new blog page so they are accessible to my family. I can do this with no problem from the kink in my left shoulder, the muscle relaxer or the frequent visits to the throne. I am making progress, I'm reaching out and it is a sort of therapy for me. I do plan on posting more up-to-date writings but for now, I feel like I have made success despite my wimpy self. I actually feel like taking the dog for a walk with Papa.

He’s the Song in My Heart--Written September 17th, 2007

George picked up his guitar, positioned himself on the end of the bed and began strumming a tune. He does not schedule his mini concerts so you never know when he will bless the room with his therapy of melody. I was due at work in a couple of hours and needed to get my routine going, starting with my shower. So, I placed the lid down on the toilet and plead, "Come sit in here and play." That he did. No complaints about the toilet seat being too hard, he just moved his concert from the bedroom to the bathroom free of charge.
First, he played an old tune by Ray Charles that he always plays for me when he picks up his shapely friend, "Hallelujah, I Love Her So." He has sung that to me since the beginning of our relationship 23 years ago. I never tire of hearing it. Even as I think about his dedication to this sweet tradition, it brings tears to my eyes. He never sings it out of "have to" and he sings it with feeling as if it is a tribute to his little woman. I am blessed.
So, he creates an atmosphere in my lowly bathroom that makes the dreaded going to work routine somewhat inspiring. I am taking a shower talking to God about my husband, relaxed, unconcerned with the upcoming eight hour shift.
He has created tunes that make my life hum. Just as his being my life partner compliments my life. His music is an intricate piece in my puzzle. And so I found myself making the shower last longer so I won't have to end the inspiration coming from the other side of the shower curtain. He doesn't complain…I believe I inspire him, too.

"New friends are silver, but old friends are gold." --Written August 17th, 2007

I was standing on the porch waving good-bye to my friend Deb and her husband as they drove off after a short visit last night. Texas is so far away and the visits are too short. As I was waving I felt my eyes tear up. But I held it back. I was determined to hold it back standing there by myself on the porch. I was taken back to my childhood and its vulnerability along with the feeling of abandonment that vexed me as I would watch her drive away. In that moment my childhood thinking returned and I told myself it would be too long before I get to spend time with her again, that I wasn't ready for her to leave. I never was. When I was younger it was the distance between Sharpsburg and Cincinnati. Now, on my front porch my tears were not permitted as I heard my mother's voice from way back as if it were just spoken now some 30 years later. "If I catch you crying anymore about her leaving I won't let her come back." And so I cut the tears and packed up my feelings in the way back place in my heart. But this morning, I got them back out again and reassured myself it's okay to cry. It's okay to love someone so much that you don't want them to leave. It's okay to have such a connection with a friend and not want miles to separate you. It's okay to love someone so much that your heart feels heavy when you think of living life without them. It's okay. It's okay to have someone who believes in you, shows appreciation for you, encourages you and wants your dreams to come true just as much as you do. I have that in my friend, Deb, and so much more. She met me in 1970…when I was five. She's loved me every since. I have been through periods of where I felt like she was sometimes a mother figure, a sister or a friend. And she fills those roles at different times, depending on the circumstances, without compliant, and with love gleaming in her eyes. And I don't have to be sad because with each visit, brief as they may have been here and there throughout the past 37 years, our friendship gets stronger and stronger. She has proven to me, that "a friend loveth at all times." That she is a constant in my life. And it's okay to never want to be without my friend.

Simple Philosophy--Written July 10th, 2007

The last two times I have wanted to go to the pool, William, has rejected the idea. Of course, he has to go anyway as his opinion doesn't matter in areas like this. If it were left up to him, he would sit at home play games on the computer, watch television, read his big thick books, listen to music and work on projects. My opinion counts more not just because I am "She, who must be obeyed" but also because I am experienced enough to know everyone needs time out of the house and they need exercise. The pool takes care of both. So we head out each time William's shoulders slumped over and reluctance written all over his face. He is always given the choice of which pool we will land at and each time refuses. So I chose.
Last week I chose Southland Pool. Arriving, we set up our spot, put the dreaded sunscreen on and get into the pool. It was sooooo chilly. I almost felt he was correct in not wanting to be there. But as we emerged ourselves the temperature seem to adjust and we began playing ball in the pool. Shortly after we began, I noticed a preteen female watching us. I threw the ball to her and the fun began. Her name was Lena and she was from South Carolina. I played ball with them for an hour. Then after break William got back in and played ball with her for close to another hour. He met her cousin, Tina. They had to leave before we did. We laughed about the changes of meeting Lena and Tina at the pool. William agreed he had a great time.
This weekend I advised William we would be going to the pool on Tuesday, my day off. I suggested he call Joshua to see if he could go with us. Yesterday when I left for work I again reminded him to call Joshua. This morning when I reminded him he needed to get ready for the pool, the opposition began. He doesn't want to go to the pool. He can get exercise by riding his bike in the neighborhood. He never has anything to do at the pool. I directed him to call Joshua and, of course, due to late notice, he already had plans. Pa came home for lunch; William got his stuff together and sits on the step by the computer where Pa was checking his stocks. He looked despondent and you could almost hear audibly his psyche calling out to Pa, "Help me out here! Make her let me stay home." He must have somehow forgotten that Pa has trouble hearing audible sounds let alone telepathic ones.
We left William's safe domain and again, I gave him the choice of pool to grace with our presence. He refused so I choose Woodland Pool this time. We arrived, set up our spot and applied the never wanted sunscreen. I inquired as to whether he remembered to bring the water balls and received confirmation. We headed into the pool. This time, I notice a teenage male close by and let the ball go toward him. He catches it and gets ready to toss it over to me. I asked if he wanted to throw with us and he agreed. I pointed William out to him, which isn't difficult; he's always the tallest in the pool. The play began. With two water balls traveling back and forth, introductions were made. We found ourselves to be playing ball with Nathaniel from Tennessee.
William had a blast with him. So much so that when the storm came up and ran us out of the pool area, they decided to go to the park and run obstacle courses. Nathaniel will be in town for another week and a half. We made plans to try and meet up again before he leaves. His grandfather picked him about 3 o'clock and we headed home.
Gleaning from this pool experience as well as last week's pool experience, we headed home with a new philosophy for life. William is extremely embarrassed that his mother came up with it, but agrees with it nonetheless. It is a philosophy I have asked him to remember next trip to the pool and one you can benefit from as well.

He who has balls can always make new friends.