Heaven's Library

There is a paradox about writers, at least for me. I have problems with ideas. They tell me that every writer has the same problem but I can’t say that Michael Critchton appears to have ever experienced that phenomenon, nor has Patricia Cornwell. I have a boring, uninteresting life so my choices are rather slim, but sometimes a good idea can pop up out of nowhere and average things end up as grist for the mill.

For me, the effect is somewhat like standing in front of the mirror brushing your teeth and without warning, a third eye appears in your forehead. Toothpaste runs down the front of your shirt and your electric toothbrush roars off without you. I usually have the presence of mind enough to stop the toothbrush, rinse, and find a pad and pen before I lose it completely.

For a couple of years I have been getting these scenes in my head that just seem to pour out on the paper. I race to get them down and end up with a couple of thousand words at a time. Last year I realized that I had a story. I had written enough by this time that I knew the direction I wanted it to go. I had the main characters assigned to the parts I wanted them to play and the bad guy was already decided. Everything was sailing along on crystal seas. I could feel the summer breeze in my hair and feel the warm sun caressing my skin.
Then, that third eye thing happened and changed everything. I sat down on the toilet seat to recover. I had never had such a thing happen before and the impact was shattering to my psyche. How could such a thing happen when one had the story already planned and things were flowing well? I had heard of such epiphanies but never believed in them. Did I say everything had changed?

Once I was able to take my head from between my knees, I went to my computer and dashed off an email to my writing professor from college. He is quite adept as slapping sense back into his students and he relishes doing it. We have remained friends because I like gruff, opinionated people who are nice to me. I think he is nice to me because I like gruff, opinionated people. Ultimately, he is a born teacher and will offer tons of advice in terse form.

His response was as terse and comforting as I could have hoped. “Way too often characters go their own way. You can’t stop them. And, in the long run, it works out rather well. It is as though your subconscious is at least one curve ahead of you.

“Besides, you have to learn that nobody is as pure as you want them to be. Broken, lost people find their way, and we are charmed by those stories. Equally, people we think know what they are doing and are good turn out to be bad apples. Those stories smart a little, but it reminds us of reality.

“I’d just go the way the character wants to go. Nudge him into place later.”

It sounded like good advice. I felt better, assured I was not crazy to follow where the erratic muse was leading. It was after 1:00 a.m. by then so I went to bed, thinking about the changes that would be needed in the story. As I was contemplating the major changes to my story line and drifting off to sleep that third eye popped open and a new thought began to take shape. I was learning quickly that this was a double-edged sword, both painful and instructive. Fortunately, this time, I was not brushing my teeth. To this day, I am still not sure if I was dreaming or not. I didn’t stop the process. I just allowed my mind to drift along on the dream.

I was in a long corridor in a palace. Tall, gilt-trimmed columns supported the ceiling and along the walls were floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books. There were millions of books and other corridors went off to the left and right all along the central corridor. I had never seen such a library. It was book-lover’s heaven. A dozen lifetimes would not be enough to read them all. I could almost feel the disappointment with the realization that I would never be able to read every book.

I moved along the corridors and wondered what all these books were and immediately, I knew that I was standing in Heaven’s Library. No other place could such a building exist, with such vast halls and so many books. I was curious as to what they could possibly contain to merit lining the halls of the creator’s palace. What importance could they have to him that he would keep them?

My mind shuffled through scripture, searching for places in the Bible that referred to books and writers. Paul called Jesus the author (Hebrews 2:20; 5:9; 7:10; 12:2; and 20:12). And John said, “And I saw the dead, the great and the small, standing before the throne; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of the things which were written in the books, according to their works.” (Revelation 20:12).

It was the first time in my life I really thought about the four words in the middle of that verse. Everyone always puts such importance on what was happening in the chapter and they never mention those four words, “the books were opened”. But here, in my dream or vision, as I began to examine the books closely, I believe I found an answer something important.

Each book is the draft of an individual’s life written by the creator. They contain the vital statistics of each person at each stage of their life. When the Bible tells us he knows the number of hairs on our head, it is because he has a record in our book.

What is even more interesting is that each book -- yours, mine, your friend’s -- tells the story as He would like the story of that person’s life, each step he would like them to take, every word he would like to hear them say. The characters are people he loves. They have traits and habits and talents. He knows their abilities and he wants them to use them as he planned. He wrote each one as a love story and all the endings are beautiful, happy endings. Then, He placed them on the shelves and handed the pen to the lead character . . . because editing the final draft is up to them.

He has to let the character finish the story. He has no choice. Every character in every story has the ability to do as they please. He knows how HE wants the story to go but the characters, as in any good story, write the story themselves. They can do what they want, go where they want, say what they want, and think what they want. The Author can stop them but ultimately once he creates the character and puts him in the story, he gives them life. Once they begin to breath, they begin to go their own way. The greatest Author won’t interfere but will allow the story to unfold.

The characters can make choices that change the entire direction of the intended story. They may take paths that lead to dead ends and have to be backtracked in order to find a better direction. They do things that they were never intended to do and say things they were not intended to say. They even think things they were never supposed to think.

The Author can try to pull them back on track but if he does, characters can become down right hostile. They balk, they fight, they argue, they struggle and run. He can gently try to steer them back on course. With some, he succeeds and the story exceeds his expectations. The character does wonderful, amazing things.

However, many times the characters simply do not cooperate and the story falls apart. It may be re-written … sometimes over and over, but to no avail. The story reaches a point that the Author knows it is never going to be publishable. Yet, he doesn’t throw it out. He puts it in a place where no one ever sees it, no one but him. Only he knows how the story was supposed to go. And for every unfinished novel a part of him grieves. As he reads over his writing he sees gems throughout that confirm the writing was good. The story was right but something… something special just never appeared or the character took a wrong turn.

The Author never feels that any story is a waste of time but some just never reach their potential. Ultimately, the finished product will never be what it was intended to be. They are aligned along the shelves, never forgotten but never reaching the masses with their message. And so, the corridors of the Court of Heaven are lined with works in progress, unfinished masterpieces, final drafts that just did not meet expectations, and the world will never read the real story, the one that would have made a difference.

My dream ended and I don’t really know what else I saw or learned there. Maybe it was really a dream that meant nothing. For me, it was a revelation into my own life. I am an unfinished product and my life is still being written. I get to decide which story is told.

A great poet said these words, “. . . my tongue is the pen of a ready writer: . .” (Ps. 45:1) Ultimately, it is up to me. I can tell the story my way or I can take the first draft, find ways to improve on the plan, polish it, add special touches until it shines. I can be bound in leaves of gold and put in a place of honor for all to read. Or I can be one of the unfinished manuscripts that no one ever reads and which will remain stored in the library of Heaven as a memorial to what could have been.

Your Typical Saturday... At My House

I am considering letting this blog lapse because I have to much going on. The following link: http://profiles.yahoo.com/a_dixiegirl_in_indiana is to my other blog on Yahoo 360. I am not sure it is worth the effort to keep two blogs going. I don't have that much to say, surely.

Today is Saturday and I was supposed to work but forgot. I did get up sometime early this morning and asked Jerry, "I don't have to work today, do I? It's Saturday, right?" Of course, he never answered but I figured it out and went back to bed. So, I wake up at 9:30 and while getting my caffeine fix Becca said, "I thought you had to work today!" And it hit me. I was supposed to work today. It wasn't mandatory but I need that extra $100 I would have brought home. I felt bad but honestly, I am so tired... no worn out that I just can't muster the energy to get really annoyed with myself. I get tired of measuring my life by a dollar bill.

I have a lot to do today because Dave and Becca moved last night and we have to get the den organized and move some stuff around so they can put everything they don't have in storage. I have several rooms to clean up and it will take most of today to do it. Best get moving.

When I Was the Flame

I want the smoke and smell of fall to drift around me and lose myself in the glow while a breeze creeps along the ground and stirs the embers.
I want to shiver in the chill and scooch up to the fire with a blanket and listen to stories of the past, when heros walked the earth and blazed firey trails.
I want to stretch my hands to the warm flames and feel it curl up my arms and into my heart, where memories are stored and set them aflame in my mind again.
I want to sit on the ground with the loved ones around me, and bask in the warmth of their smiles while the flames dance on the wind.
I want to sit by this fire and stare into its heart and remember when I was the flame.

My Up and Down Life

I was up until 2 a.m. this morning because the baby girl was not feeling good and mama had to rest. I was late getting to work because my lack of sleep brough on a migraine. By 9 a.m. I had that under control and was working by 10 a.m., I am at work, taking my break. I didn't take a lunch because I missed 2 hours of work. That way, I only lose an hour off my time.

I actually feel better because I needed the sleep. I am getting antsy to get back to my writing. My house is upside down with stuff strewn everywhere. Dave and Becca are moving their stuff in storage Friday and moving into my den for a few months. They hope they will get a voucher soon and can move out. We will see. I hope they get it too. My house is full!

Mike is still home with us and I can't find a place for him to go. He just got the judgement paid off where he and his idiot ex abandoned their lease. Daddy bought her a trailer but Mike has to live with us because of her trashy behavior. He would never have have defaulted on that lease if she had not threatened to leave and go back to Arkansas. She ended up with everything they got as wedding gifts and he has nothing at all but the clothes on his back and a chest my sister gave him, a chair I recovered for him, and his desk I bought when he was small.

We didn't go to court for anything more because he had nothing but Social Security as income and couldn't hire a lawyer. The fat Bimbo just took him to the cleaners because she got them to charge him with half of her medical bills. She had to have a bunch of medical things done while she was married to him. She told Mike that it would be "free" because Arkansas had this "free" hospital. Yes, he bought it. Now, his credit is crap because she had a habit of abandoning her leases, and getting cars repossessed, and not paying her bills anywhere. A real catch guys. For those who do not know this, you marry your credit.

Gee, do I sound nasty? I suppose it will be a long time before I get past it. I get mad every time I think about her. Need I mention she was a "Preacher's daughter"?

My one postive feeling in the whole thing is in knowing that she was terrified of me, so much so she "said" she had a protection order against us. Hysterical, especially since I wouldn't cross the street to spit on her, let alone spend hundreds chasing her. My experience is that a person who thinks like she does has reason to fear people because they are liars and theives. They never rest easy because they are constantly looking over their shoulders waiting for the people they harm to come after them. My sons and other daughter-in-law think it is a hoot. In fact, the whole family rolls in laughter when we talk about that because I am the most non-violent person you will find.

Jerry is now working at a drug store about three days a week. I hope it will help us get straightened out financially. So far, the first check didn't help at all cause expenses are just ridiculous with all these people in the house.

I am considering a biography! My life is an adventure.... I feel just like Indiana Jones!

Sweet Home Alabama

Today is a cool gloomy day and I am thinking of home. Sweet home, Alabama, where skies are so blue. Oh, how I wish I was coming home to you.

There is the this point in my journey each time I travel the road back to Alabama. It can best be experienced if the windows of the car are down when you cross the state line. There is this scent to the air that is found nowhere else. I have visited many states and several countries and have never experienced it anwhere else. It is the scent of honeysuckle and pine, the smell of clean air and sunshine.

If you stop anywhere in the state for gas, it is the music of the people... their speech when they say with a smile, "How y'all doin' today?" And you know it is a real question and not just the customer service. Their voices are like the vocal divisions you find in a great choir. Near Anniston they sing one part of the song while in Mobile it is a different part and Montgomery still another. Every place you go they have a slightly different accent but despite the regional differences you know you are still in Alabama.

Lord, I want to go home.

Wasted Days and Wasted Nights

Been a while since I was here. I have been busy... with the new grandbaby and trying to deal with so many people in such a small place. Diapers, clothes, interrupted sleep, crying baby and 6 people crammed into 1000 sq feet. Not fun and not condusive to good sleep.

I've been helping Becca with the baby as much as possible but I can't do the late night feedings. I have to work. Last night I was awakened by a screaming baby demanding her food at 2 a.m. and again at 4 a.m. I had trouble getting back to sleep after that last one and I don't think I slept well all night anyway. I have to get some sleep tonight. I am pretty zonked today and can't function well.

I have not been able to get on my computer at home in days because it is the room where new baby and parents are sleeping. Dave works nights but Becca sleeps there. Hope to have them in the den by the end of the months but it isn't going well so far.

I'm tired. Gone.

Tender Moments

There is no love in the universe as special as this kind of love.

Sarah Cheyenne's First Bath

" This is NOT fun!"

Isn't She Beautiful!

New Arrival!

Sarah Cheyenne arrived on September 2, 2006 at 3:41 p.m. She weighed 6 lbs 7 ozs and was 20 inches long.

She is adorable and we will post photos as soon as possible.

I'd write more but I am exhausted. I stayed at the hospital last night to help Becca. Dave had to go back to work at 10:30 p.m.

Whine and Cheese. . . Again

Sunday and I am at home in a world of pain and stiffness. Yesterday, I went to my sister's to help do some more painting and cleanup. We got a lot of trim done but found that the bedroom windows have been painted shut and that the vinal siding was put on OVER the storm windows. We now have to figure out how we are going to take them down without tearing up the siding in order to unstick the painted windows. If we can't do that, we have to break at least two windows to open the storm windows so we can then unstick the regular window and then put new glass in them.

We also powerwashed the basement and unstopped the drain where the moron has never cleaned and allowed the washer to stop the floor drain. It is much cleaner now and just needs painting. We got a bit of carbon monoxide I think because it was a gas operated power washer. We had windows and the door to the stairs opened but still I think we all got a bit sick. Very dizzy at the end of it. Felt better after an hours lying on the floor of my sister's apartment and relaxing. But we are all tired and sore.

I am attempting to work on the novel again. I have found, with the help of a friend, a solution to my block and feel like I can move forward now. I hope so, anyway.

The baby has not arrived yet but Dave and Becca have a problem. She is due any day. The project where they are living is infested with roaches and they found three in the baby's bed. They are trying to find a place they can rent cheaply so they don't have to be concerned about roaches getting to the baby. I am not sure what they can do. If anything happens to Dave's job they will be in terrible trouble anywhere else.

Things are not good financially with us either. We are having so many money problems and Jerry still has no job. He is not going to get one I believe. That is very negative of me but I have nothing that would indicate I have anything to be positive about. I am positive things are bad. May not have internet much longer. I can save $100 a month by shutting off cable, phone, and internet. That will make nearly all the car payment. If he could just get a job bringing home $100 a week it would solve the major problems.

Ok, I've had my whine and cheese session. Go out and make a difference in the world. I have no life but you ought to be out doing something.

The End is Near

I am beginning to think blogging is the biggest waste of time. I have been working at it since May ... I think... and so far I don't really see the sense of it. I have vented, waxed poetic, contributed great prose, and preached a little bit. I think it is just not something I am cut out to do.

I am trying to figure out the timing of it but there doesn't seem to be any timing involved. I have considered content but have not found anything original out here. Most are just repeating information they heard somewhere else, show photos I have see long ago, and tell jokes that have been coming in my email for years!

So, I am going to just give it a bit longer, see what happens, how I feel about the process and then, probably just drop the whole thing. The second blog is not going well either and I still have two websites that are now extremely overdue for an update.

Not to mention my novel is languishing. I just got a few tips last night on it and I am thinking about that aspect of it. I think it will help jump start me but now I am not in possession of a lot of free time. This next two week I suspect I will be very, very busy.

I am supposed to help Phyllis paint the rest of the apartment, the baby is due in the next 14-18 days, I need to get her a bed up, finish stripping her chest of drawers and get it repainted. And write. Somewhere in there I have to go to work and sleep!

I will post photos of the new baby before I end it. But, while this has been fun and it is really just a lazy person's way of avoiding real writing. I will probably just stop bothering after September.

Gripe Session in Progress

I feel as if my nose is stuffed with cement. The air must be teeming with something. Over the last several weeks I have been struggling to breath. I got so frustrated that I even stopped taking Claritin. I was having these allergy symptoms and I wanted to see what kid of difference it was making. Guess what... it wasn't! I was off it for two weeks and my situation did not get worse. It didnt' get better either.

I am supposed to have my crown put on this afternoon. I am having lunch with a friend at noon. And this morning, I am chained to my desk. In about three minutes I am going to be attacking the files to see what I can process. I do not want to loose the momentum of the last week but right now I need verifications to come in so I can actually do the work. Of course, I could start on December files....

Housing assistance. That's what I do. I work with a government agency to provide rental assistance to low income families. You call it Section 8. HUD likes the kinder, gentler term Housing Choice Voucher (HCV). The government will pay 60-70% of of your rent if you qualify. I am the person who maintains the client's file and continually monitor their status to insure they are receiving the correct amount of subsidy. They are supposed to pay 30-40% of their adjusted income for rent.

Of course, that is only on income they have reported. Taxpayers get ripped every day by people who are not reporting their income so they can receive more of your tax dollars to pay their rent. They justify it by such excuses as "I have a car payment." "I won't be able to afford cable if I pay that!" Isn't that lovely.

Don't get me wrong. Most of the people who need housing are not the problem. It is a segment of society who believes it is someone else's job to pay their way. When a healthy, 20 year-old can sit at my desk with three small children and say, "My grandmama was on Sec. 8, my mama was on Sec 8 and I will always be on Sec. 8 and my kids will too." I get ticked. That is a great inheritance. Poverty passed down through the generations by choice. I was trying to get her into a program that would help her become self sufficient, go to college, get an education and buy her own home. She wanted her inheritance of Sec. 8 assistance! What is wrong with that picture?

So the next time you bleeding heart liberals think that more social services are the answer, come see me! They are NOT solving the problem. They are creating it. Social services should be designed for the elderly and disabled, people who require help because they are either too old and sick to work or because they have some disability that prevents them from being able to support themselves. And a transitional assistance until healthy people get a job that will support them. A healthy adult needs to get out and work. Atlanta already has the idea. You have to have a job to be on their program. Great idea, Atlanta!

Ok, I think that will about do it for me. I have a headache and my eyes feel as if they are floating in fluids in my sinuses.

Stop the World

I haven't run out of things to say but lately I have turned melancholy... a little bit anyway. I have always loved poetry and especially the works of Tennyson and Longfellow. They recite words that speak to my spirit and that for a few minutes take me back to a time of my life when things moved at a slower pace and my happiness was found in simple things, such as good books, a walk in the woods, Sunday dinner with my extended family, and my children's laughter.

The world is moving at such a fast pace now and I want to scream "STOP!" We are missing the finer things in life in pursuit of toys, of pleasure for pleasure's sake rather than to enrich our life. How many people are left who can find joy in the summer breeze as it blows across the front porch bringing the sound of children laughing and playing in the twilight? How many children are laughing and playing in the twilight? See, we have lost something. Are we too stupid to see it?

I might be called old fashioned but there is a reason certain television shows are considered classics and have channels devoted to reruns of them. Because there is a large segment of society out there who is hungry for just a taste of that past. And it is not because of the things they had then.

No, we don't long to go back in time and live without our conveniences. We don't want to give up microwaves, computers, and indoor plumbing. We just want the secret to the innocence, to the laughter, to the family around the dinner table, to the trust, and even next door neighbors who wave and call you by name as you sit in the twilight on the front porch.

We want to know how to recapture the magic and wonder that we heard about from our grandparents. We want to understand how, in the midst of depression, famine, and war people could loan a cup of sugar and not expect its return, people could build a house in a week, take in orphan children they never met, buy a car on a handshake, sleep with the doors unlocked.

Where can we find the component that causes this kind of life? What makes them say please, thank you, excuse me, or let me help you? What have we lost?

I grew up in that life, among those people.

Today, I want to go home.

Crossing The Bar

From “The Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson”

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.

Sea Fever

By John Masefield (1878-1967)

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking.
And a gray mist on the sea’s face and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied:
And all I ask is a windy day and the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the seagulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the winds’ like a whetted knife:
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

The Blower's Daughter

Damien Rice - (Video)

I don't know what it is but it is a beautiful song that makes you ache inside.

Some Days I Feel Just Like This

OK Go - Here It Goes Again

August Thoughts

August... a majestic month. Fall is around the corner. Sarah Cheyenne is just weeks from her arrival. My birthday is about 8 weeks away while Jerry's is days away.

I am exhausted and frustrated and just plain ticked off at everything. I am again trying to find money to cover expenses and expenses keep rising. Although, gas has dropped a few cents. I have been praying for that.

Yes, I believe God answers prayer. I also believe if enough people with right attitudes and motives, pray for something, God will hear and answer.

It is Saturday and I just finished paying the bills. I have been moving money around like a high financier for a bankrupt company. I am about to go to the grocery store where I am sure I will have a mild heartattack about the price of eggs or some such staple.

Rethinking Men

Thursday and Landlord orientation day for me. I have to talk to landlords and tell them all about the housing program. It starts at 3:30 and last about 90 minutes. Oh joy!

I still have not gone to lunch and I am just about to leave. I wanted to jot something here just because it is BLANK today. I have a book in my purse that I am reading (for the last several weeks). The fact that I have not finished it is due in part to my schedule for leisure things and because it really is a silly book. I don' t like romance books that masquerade as mysteries. Just because there is a mystery in a romance novel doesn't make it a mystery. If this guy tells me one more time how adorable her chin is and how kissable her lips are and how charming her smile is I am going to puke.

Please tell me that real women do not read this trash and long for men to drool on them that way. I like being told how nice I look. I like to hear my name. I like to hear how brilliant I am. I even like hearing when someone thinks I am attractive. But when a man tells me I am beautiful, I simply wonder what he wants in return. I just don't buy it.

For goodness sake, do you guys really sit and think about how very sweet a woman looks when she bats her eyes? Do you really think about how much you would love to brush that curl off her forehead? Is it really in you mind constantly how utterly adorable she is when she giggles?

I don't think so. Tell me I'm wrong. Please. I will be forced to rethink my whole concept of men.

Clouds Rolling In

Halfway through the week and I feel as if it will never pass. I have to work tomorrow night but I don't know about after that. I don't really want to do this part-time job but I am so desperate for the money.

I really keep hoping something will turn up and I will get this insane windfall. Of course, my logical brain says that is the biggest joke ever but, well, hope springs eternal, right?

I am still trying to figure out what I am doing here. Part of me says it is ludicrous and another part says just do it for the fun of it. Tonight... doesn't seem fun anymore.

I will be grandma in about 6 weeks or less. Becca has been sick with again and tonight we think she has the flu that the rest of us have had only it is not quiet as severe. For that I am glad.

I will exit now. I have to work tomorrow for at least 11 hours. Someone should probably put me on their prayer list. I need the prayer. My family needs it, too. Things are not too good.

Until They Vanish

I walk beside you along the beach
While the laughing waves follow,
And wash the signs of our passing
Until they vanish.

We toss our dreams out on the breeze
To watch them soar up and away,
Unaware of how far dreams may travel,
Until they vanish.

As the sun sinks beneath restless waves
The sand grows cool to our feet,
And stars dance across the night sky
Until they vanish.

Late Night Returns

Things are settling down now. Everyone seems to be on the road to recovery. So why do I feel the I am waiting for the other shoe to drop?

Last two evenings I cleaned the yard, cutting hedges, mowing grass, trimming weeds and spraying weed killer. It looks wonderful and I am tired. Just have to get all the trimming piles up.

But something doesn't feel right to me. Not sure what. Maybe I am just tired. I have been getting to bed earlier this week... until tonight. So, maybe I should be going now, huh?

Three Flu in My House!

There is no point in going over the whole grisley week. Let me describe it briefly: as of 5:00 a.m. last Monday everything just went crazy. I woke up and spent several hours vomiting and then went to the hospital where they gave me something and sent me home. The next two days are a blur. My husband came down with it on Wednesday, my son on Thursday. There are two survivors who have not become infected thus far and I pray they don't. One is my pregnant daughter-in-law.

I had to work Wednesday-Friday and by Sunday I was so exhausted I could not move. My daughter-in-law, Becca, is a true angel of mercy. She came in Monday and took care of me and stayed all week, taking care of each person who came down with this nasty bug.

Wash your hands, don't let anyone use your pens, pencils, phone, etc. This is a nasty beastie with projectile vomiting and diaharrea accompanied by fever that last about 24 hours. Afterward, you feel awful for nearly 7 days.

Busy Bees, Honey Pots & Pooh

What a busy weekend! My aunt & uncle from Atlanta came in Friday afternoon and we all went to supper together and visited. We had such a good time chatting and laughing. I began the weekend with a headache and kept it until last night! Had a small bout of depression, too but not sure why.

Saturday morning was girls day out. My aunt, sister, pregnant daughter-in-law, and I all went shopping for baby things. We bought little girl clothes and a carseat for the new baby we are expecting in about 9 weeks. We bought dresses, shoes, and hats. We had lunch at a great mexican restaurant to top off the day.

I bought a Winnie-the-Pooh honeypot lamp for baby's room. When David saw it he said, "Ah, I want it in my room!" He was a great Pooh fan when he was little. My most favorite story about him was when he was about 4 or 5 years old. He loved peanut butter and honey sandwiches. I went to the kitchen to make one for him and found we were out of honey. I said, "We are all out of honey. I wonder who ate all the honey?" He replied in all seriousness, "Pooh bear ate all the honey, Mommie."

When we came home my aunt, uncle, sister, Jerry, and I left about 5:00 p.m. for Owensboro to attend the Crabb Fest. This is a gospel music concert put on by the Crabb family. We enjoyed it a lot but got home near midnight and so were not able to get up early this morning for church. There was a time I could have stayed out all night and still been going!

Today I am sore and I suspect it is because we sat for about 5 hours on folding metal chairs. They were miserable! Tonight I am going to try and go to church but I feel really bad in my shoulder and legs. My shoulder hurts all the way to my wrist.

Then, tomorrow it is back to work! I hope you all have a great week!

Glutton for Punishment or Forced Labor

I did it. I started a second blog - "Dark Mountains". It is actually post of a piece of fiction I am working on. I have decided it may help me to organize this pile of stuff I have that I can't gain control of. So, I started the blog. I guess we will see how it goes. I am either a glutton for punishment or I enjoy forced labor.

I think it will bug me no end to have this thing sitting out there for the world to stumble on and read but not have it completed. We will see.

I hope we see progress. Thing is I know that some of it is very good. I have read over some of it and the hair on my neck stands up. I am scared at how good some of it is. At least, I believe it is. Of course, there is an equal amount that stinks.

Liberty's Birthday

Tomorrow is the 4th of July, American Independance Day. We celebrate that day in this country with cookouts, fireworks, and ball games. We get with our families and laugh and talk and we may go swimming and have a picnic. We may just sit around the patio and read a trashy romance and drink something cold all day.

Some of us will be glued to the television for a ball game that will go into overtime. Some of us will sit on the riverbank with thousands of others from all economic levels of society, of all races, and religious backgrounds and watch fireworks in the night sky.

We won't talk about what brought us to that celebration. We won't discuss the revolution or the lives it claimed. We won't talk about the sacrifices of the men and women who committed crimes against the crown to set the wheels in motion to create a new nation, a nation where Liberty is a living, breathing being that constantly craves new territory in which to florish. We won't discuss the price of the 4th of July because it is priceless.

Or maybe it is because it happended so long ago.

No, we will just talk food, children, politics, and ball games. And we will wonder at fireworks in the night sky. We will laugh a lot.

And we will not be afraid.

The Unthinkable

They will bury my coworker on Saturday. The week has been difficult for all of us. I keep thinking that she will pop in with her big grin and say "Ok guys, I was just joking." We are all having similar feelings I think. We talk about it a lot and I guess that helps.

I have discovered several things that I was unaware of. There was no food in the house. She was losing weight because she had nothing to eat. Between the two of them they made $70000 a year. How does a pregnant woman starve to death with that kind of money? How does she die if she is cared for and loved?

He was giving her $500 a month as his "share" of expenses out of $40,000. Her salary of $30,000 a year supported two adults, and her child, his daughter, and their child and all household expenses and debts. He ran up her credit card when they married and she had him removed. She had refused to put him on the house purchase or her car. He had no credit at all.

He was spending his money on golf clubs, trips with buddies, and gambling on the boat. In fact, he had a golf trip planned during the time she was due to deliver. Felt he should go since it "was scheduled a long time ago." He was also the beneficiary on her life insurance. The day they found her the power company showed up to turn off the lights. Her father gave money to her friends and they went and paid the light bill.

She left no will because who dies at 31? But she died in her sleep, probably hungry and most definately alone.

Take care of your children. Take care of your few possessions. And for God's sake, take care of yourself. Tell someone if you are suffering for any reason. And then, if there is a special "other" in your life, take care of them.

Please make a will, even if you are only 18 and have nothing but an iPod. Please designate more than one person as your executor. Make sure the person you appoint is controlled in what they do on your behalf. Do not assume that the person you love will be capable of or will even want to have your best interest in mind.

If I sound cynical, I am. I trust no one. Everyone is potentially self serving. Thankfully, this story doesn't happen often but it happens enough.

Be safe, be healthy, but most of all be happy. If you aren't, tell someone immediately.

The Unexpected

I am home sick today and a friend at worked called to tell me another co-worker had been found dead at home. She was 31 and pregnant with twins, has a baby about a year old, a 6-year-old and a step-daughter she just sent to college. Her husband came home from work and found her dead in her bed. It appears she died in her sleep.

On Thursday she was telling us that something was wrong but she didn't know what. She had trouble sleeping because when she lay on one side she couldn't breath. She also had a history of seizures, not the grand mal seizures, small ones that you wouldn't know she was having unless you recognized that kind of thing. She took medicine except when she was pregnant.

My guess is she either had a seizure or something happened related to the pregnancy. She has not been able to take her seizure medicine for a long time, not since she was pregnant with the last baby. She got pregnant with the twins when the other baby was only 6 months old and she was supposed to have the twins at the end of July.

I am so sad about this. I think because she was so young and those tiny babies who never had a chance. The two children she left behind, the step-daughter who called her mom all wondering what happened. I know everyone will know once an autopsy is done but still, I don't think that answers the questions we often have when a young person dies.

Life is a treasure, filled with unexpected hearthaches and joys. Sometimes the unexpected happens.

Expect the Unexpected

Just when you think your day is going well and everything is on schedule....



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Free Evening....Maybe

Wow. I had a very productive time at work! Got CAUGHT UP! Current is so cool. I got a whole 10.5 hrs this week and about the same last week. That will pay a bill!
 
Do I seem a bit excited? I hate working two jobs but I am so tired of the money problems I just about can't stand it.
 
Someone did get the cobwebs down while I was working, by the way. Imagine that.
 
Well, I won't give you any more whine and cheese. Free the rest of the day. Now if I can just get people out of my hair. I might have a nice evening.
 
Yeah, right, like that is gonna happen.

Cobwebs and Candor

Saturday, yippee! Yeah, right. Not.

I have a horrible lower back ache and no clue as to why. I have to go have blood work done and since I have NO veins that won't be fun either. Then, I have to go to my second job and spend the afternoon working. I have not got time to clean house or do any of the things I need or want to do. I would love to sit here and write. I would love to clean the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling of my bedroom.

I am so PO'd.

I came in from the day job at five yesterday. Now remember, I have to be at the second job at six. My unemployed husband says, what do you want for supper? This is two nights in a row. I come home and I am supposed to figure out what is for supper, get it cooked, and get to work by six.

This morning I pointed out that during the down times when he is trying to figure out what to do around here he might like to sweep out the cobwebs from the bedroom. He looks and says, "The whole house needs it.

I looked back at him and say, "Gee, ya think?"

He didn't like it.

Blessings, Curses, and Wars

I am reading a book called Blessing or Curse: You can Chose. It was written by Derek Prince. I have read this book three times. The first time was about seven years ago. I was in great distress and contemplating suicide. What I learned about blessings and curses truly saved my life. I won't go into detail but let me just say he teaches that some of the problems we have in life may be the result of curses that have descended through our families, thorough our actions or words, or through inactions.

Now I know there are those who will immediately say this is not scriptural, that grace has cured everything. However, since this book uses scripture to support the premise, I will respectfully disagree. Besides, I know what I have experienced. I was dying.

I had personal problems and my life was going down the tubes pretty quickly. I was in my late 30's, had graduated college only about three years before but we had both lost our jobs and had been unemployed for about 2 years. I was so depressed and so I just started looking for a way out that would be painless. I even began to plan it.

I reached a point where I sat down in my bedroom, crying and told God I felt cursed and I needed help because I didn't believe Christians could be cursed. And less than a month later I found this book. I followed the instructions carefully. Within six month we were both employed and I was getting well spiritually, mentally and physically. Life actually became pretty good. And after two years, things were great.

So why am I reading it again? Because sometimes we forget things. Sometimes things happen to drag us down. Either way, we sometimes go back to self destructive habits, thoughts, and behaviors. I think I have been doing that and that for some time have over extended myself. I also think I have allowed things to happen that should not have happened, not obviously, just the "little foxes".

I guess I have just not been paying attention. And God is always so patient with me. But at some point I have to say I am responsible for what happens to me. It is not always someone else's fault. Life doesn't just happen. We make it.

So, I am rereading this book again. And I expect something good to happen. Maybe that is what it is all about. Being vigilant, watching for trouble spots, and once the enemy is identified, become agressive in attacking it. We are at war.

"12. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age,[a] against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places." Ephesians 6:12 (New King James Version)

New King James Version (NKJV) Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Pressure Release Valve

As usual, so very late! I am on my way to bed but I am going to make myself write something on the blog. My day was busy but fairly upbeat. I didn't have that bout of depression again.

I am just so frustrated about money. I have so much hanging over my head right now that I am not able to really do anything close to buying enough food to feed us all for more than a few days. It gets very scary when the fridge is empty and your family says, "Uh, what am I supposed to eat?"

Don't get me wrong. Under normal conditions I can buy food, pay the bills and put a bit back. I have never asked anyone for money and don't intend to start now. But I have sure done a lot of praying lately for it. I hate praying for money. Unfortunately, the last several years, with just me working, Jerry in and out of the hospital and doctor's offices, Dave and Becca not having jobs, and car problems it is pretty difficult this last year.

And she is pregnant and has to eat right and she had no clothes... so I bought material from a second hand shop I go to and made her some in the evenings after work. They were able to get food stamps but I don't really know how far $150 in groceries will go in a month. And that doesn't help me much. They come over here and I feed them when they don't have enough but tonight, everything in my upright freezer fit into my 2 cu ft freezer in my refridgerator.

I keep telling myself I am not managing it well but I don't know what else I can do but pay the bill and then buy groceries if there is enough left. I have not bought groceries except immediate items like milk, cheese, eggs or bread. I had a freezer full of meat where I borrowed the money about a month ago. It's nearly gone now.

I gotta get off here. Depressing just thinking about it all. I will do better tomorrow.

I just hate living like this.

White Walls

There are places you reach where the road comes to an end, and you can neither go left nor right. These are places that require you to turn around and retrace your steps to see if you can discover where you took the wrong turn.

You thought you were moving in the right direction. Everything seemed just fine. There were no problems you could detect, no difficulties you couldn’t conquer, and yet, here you are at a dead end.

These places are confusing because, in your mind, they shouldn’t be there. You presumed you did everything right. All your I’s were dotted, all your t’s were crossed. It is inconceivable that you could ever be standing staring at a blank wall with no way through, around, under or over.

And yet, there it is.

I have walked this path many times and each time I think it will be the last. Every time I think I am moving in the right direction and all seems to be going well. There were no problems, no difficulties that were insurmountable. It is confusing and inconceivable that I should be here again.

And yet, here I am.

This morning I felt I had turned a corner and there was light ahead. It was just a white wall.

Looking for House Fairies & Feeling No Pain

I can't believe how much better I feel since they increased my medicine by one pill. I have to take the metheltrixate - four pills one time a week. I usually do it on Wednesdays. Just because I got the prescription on Wednesday.

Initially I took three pills but two weeks ago my doctor raised it to four pills. The difference in pain relief was amazing. I just notices on Sunday that I was not hurting everywhere. I had a back ache but I think that is just where I was doing my usual household chores.

Now if I can just get some sleep! I think I am sleeping a bit better just not enough. I don't wake up with my feet hurting and my knees hurting. And I don't have to walk like an old lady.

Today, life feels much better. Now, if the fairies will just get the house clean and the yard clean....

Famous Last Words

I was just pondering phrase/paragraphs that could be used as Famous Last Words. I decided to see how many I could devise. So, here goes my first effort.

"I wonder how this works?"

"I wonder what happens when you push this button?"

"What is this little ring hanging from it?"

"I wonder how fast will this thing will really go?"

"Maybe we should go back and get the helmet."

"Oops, uh, guys, this knob just came off in my hand."

"Gimme a match."

"Yes, dear, I am sure I turned off the iron."

"I wonder why someone unplugged the toaster?"

"I better turn on the lights so we can see why this floor is flooded."

"I think if I just move it a bit to the right..."

"Wonder where this road leads?"

"It doesn't look very high."

'It doesn't look dangerous."

"I am sure it is not very deep."

"I don't think it will hurt you."

"We'll come right back."

"No problem, all dogs love me."

"Who needs directions!"

Ok, if you can think of any others please share them with me.

A Princess Wows Her Subjects

Our little girl is growing. Sarah Cheyenne appears to be rehearsing for her big debute onto the world stage. She appears to be looking directly at the camera. I hope she will look at the world the same way, with clear eyes and courage.

In the second one you can see a small fist raised. I think she was trying to get her thumb in her mouth. Her daddy sucked his thumb, too, so it won't be a surprise if she does. Her uncle Mike did also.

We had to get a fixture placed in Mike's mouth to stop him. We simply gave Dave a choice. We said, "You can stop on your own or we can get you the mouth fixture to help you stop." He said he would do it on his own. And he did. He was only 5 but in about three months he stopped completely with no help from us other than an occassional glance and grin.

I think they will be doing one more ultrasound before she gets here. I will post them if they do. But the next photos may be of the the new princess.

Jerry was sick all week having chills and fever. This morning he got up and told me he knew what was wrong. He had a kidney infection. He went to the er and they are pumping him full of Cipro. He saw a urologist this afternoon.

I have to work in the morning and so I probably should go to bed. More news later.

Restless Natives

I have done several post lately of fictional stuff, just for the fun of it and because it struck me at that moment. I have found when I allow myself to do that I am a bit more focused on writing.

But I am still letting my work in progress languish. I am over worked and have filled up my time with too many projects. It is a fault of mine. I never want to be bored or have nothing to do. So I have all these projects to complete. I have now reached the update point for 2 websites, writing on two blogs (stupid idea that is), I have baby clothes to sew and things to crochet, I have a 40 hour a week job and just took another that will probably end up being about 5 hrs a week once I get all the backlog done. Friday and Saturday I worked 10 hours at the second job and did my bank statment -- no mean or fun feat.

Did I say I was over booked here? I probably need someone to give me some time management training but that would require a third job so I think we will just leave that for another life. Tomorrow I go back to the day job.

I think mentally I feel better than I have in a while. I actually felt rested when I got home tonight! Crazy, right? Well, not if you knew my household. As Mama used to say, "They are a bunch of wild Indians!"

Jerry and Mike fight no matter what it is about or where they are at the time. If they aren't arguing they are out running the roads looking for the next big deal in cars or at Walmart.

Dave and Becca just love to be around me so they come over. At which time Mike and David will invariably get into it, too. Dave & Becca just moved out two weeks ago but I don't think they are very happy in the apartment. Noisy neighbors at 3 a.m. Thankfully they don't come over then!

So, the house is usually full of people. And a part of me loves that. I never recovered from leaving home and a large extended family to just four of us in strange towns. Growing up there were aunts, uncles, cousins, and various great & grand relatives. They are mostly dead now and all the cousins lost. And a big hole in my spirit because of it. So, when the kids are here and the house is noisy... I feel at home.

But I do need to breath once in awhile. I guess when little Sarah Cheyenne gets here she and I will seek a quiet corner somewhere to have a meaningful conversation and get to know one another while the other Indians are doing their war dance in the other end of the house. At least, I hope so.

Flash Fiction on Sunday Afternoon

It was a smokey room with no windows and it smelt of stale beer and cheap cigarettes. The one bonus was that it was 30 degrees cooler than the night shrouded parking lot she had just left and probably a thousand degrees cooler than her flaming Chevy a hundred yards down the road.

The ancient juke box in the back was playing an equally ancient song that she recognized. It had been on the hit parade when she was 10 and going through her country music phase. The voice was as smokey as the room... what was that guy's name? She remembered she had loved his music but it was long forgotten now.

"What can I get ya, Babe?"

Now there was a line to get a girl's attention. From the cave-like booth where he crouched, he squinted glazed eyes at her through a cloud of smoke that boiled from his mouth, probably from the stygian depths of his soul. Betweet slack, wet lips she saw a flash of sparkling white teeth just before he stoked the fire again. Oh yeah, he was hot, all right, just smokin'.

"A phone book and phone would be great." She directed her attention toward where she hoped the bartender was in residence. Den was an appropriate term if this guy was any example. She had a sinking feeling that the night might not get better.

"Hey, Babe, I'll give you my number, you ain't gotta look it up."

She looked back and found that her imagination was taking over and Jaba the Hutt was leering at her. Great, just what she needed. She could only hope he was as hampered walking as the original Hutt had been because she was no Princess Leia and there was not going to be a Luke Skywalker or Han Solo appear to rescue her.

She moved toward the end of the bar, supressing a grin. She wouldn't mind Han Solo rushing in and grabbing her up. Of course it was Skywalker who always did the dashing moves, levitating while brandishing a sword at the bad guy with a girl on his other arm. No, Solo was just handing out the grins, hugs, and kisses in dark corners of the Falcon. She sighed. There weren't going to be any heros in this tale. She just had a bad feeling about it.

"Excuse me," she said as the bartender moved her way, "do you have a phone book. My car just blew up and I need a tow."

His eyes widened and his mouth formed an O before he replied, "Honey, you won't get a tow tonight, not around here. You are 75 miles from a real town and the only garage we have locally is run by that slug you passed on the way in. And he is in no shape to drive anyone anywhere unless it is to hell."

I turned back to stare at the Hutt. He grinned a whisky grin and wiggled his fingers at me. Oh God, the night was not going well at all. What little space she had acquired between her and trouble just went up in smoke.

Don't Make Me Blush!

Went to the doctor today for a follow-up. She gave me samples of a med called Niaspan. It is a time released formula of Niacin, supposedly better tolerated since it is time released. I have the most terrible side effect.

Regular niacin can cause flushing of the skin, itching and burning. I took it years ago and had a mild reaction to it. It is not pleasant. I had the reaction on the Niaspan tonight. Within 30 minutes of taking it I looked like I had been dropped in oil and felt that someone had covered me with a million fire ants. Itching, burning and severe redness were full blown in less than 2 minutes after onset of the symptoms.

I called the pharmacy to see if there is anything I could do. There wasn't and I needed to watch for an additional thing. If I had trouble breathing I was to go immediately to the ER. And since this was time release... I might have repeating occurances all night long. Nice, huh? He recommended a cool shower to see if it helped with burning. It did while I was in the shower and an aspirin. But I can't stay in the shower all night! He didn't know why the aspirin helped but he said he had found it did. I was game by then so tried it.

I called the doctor and she said pretty much what the pharmacist said but also said I could take an benedryl for the itching. So, I have gone from one additional pill to three!

Well, after about an hour it began to taper off. I got less red, less itching, and burning. Lasted about 30 minutes and then started again. This time it was not so severe. At the moment it is tapering off again. I guess we will see what happens. I have to go to bed because I am tired but I don't know if sleep will be possible.

I have discovered a new meaning to the phrase, "Don't make me blush!"

Passing on Excitement

Today Dave and Becca are moving into their apartment. I don't think either of them is thrilled because they don't have money or jobs and it is not the nicest thing to have to live in the projects. Unfortunately, life bites sometimes and the things we want are just not within our grasp. It is a hard lesson he is learning.

Things around here are, as a result, pretty messy. I don't know how I will ever get it all straightened out, AGAIN. Everytime I think it will be fine, someone has to move in and distupt everything. I know they don't do it on purpose but I just wish they had someplace else to go once in awhile.

I won't gripe too much. They are my kids and I am very glad to have them all here. I just don't like all the stress of trying to clean house after so many people and find a place to store all the junk.

I am out of space, out of time, and out of sorts. I would love to have a nice quiet house that smells like I just cleaned top to bottom. I have given up. I need that cleaning team with those two British women. I bet they could straighten everything up in a tick.

I am out of here now. I thought I would be able to dash off something exciting but suddenly realized that exciting around here usually means an emergency room trip, court proceedings, or things involving long black cars. I think I'll pass.

Dancing on Wet Pavement

She danced across the wet pavement, arms stretched to the heavens, head thrown back to receive the blessing of the rain. Thunder rumbled and clouds roiled but there was no lightening, only the sound of heavenly furniture being moved through the halls by angels. She laughed at her own imagination.

Her heels make an interesting sound on the sidewalk as she continued her journey to her car, the rhythm becoming a tap dance. The store windows streamed with rain, everything, all the things people craved, were now out of focus, unimportant and obsolete. She needed nothing but to be alive, to breath in the wet cool of the air, and hear the staccato tap of her heals. She performed a quick two step and twirled, finishing by slipping her key into the door lock with a florish. A man getting out of his car on the opposite lane did a double take and smiled at her. She smiled back. It was a glorious day to be alive and dancing on wet pavement.

Rain Like Silk Sheets and Migraine Thieves

The rain is falling in soft folds, covering the city streets in cool, grey, silken sheets. Drifting around me are the soft chords of classical guitar and the room takes on a very melancoly feel that I keep trying to sort out. I find myself wanting to go somewhere and sink into a soft cushioned chair and watch the world through blurred windows.

The day is slipping away and I am here, in a brick and steel box, envious of the rain.

I had a migraine last night. Today I am better but the feeling I am always left with is that I missed or lost something. The migraine thief slipped in and took away another day. Of course, it isn't true but that is the way it feels. I don't know where that comes from, just as I don't know what triggers the pain. That crawly feel in my head, that precursor to the real pain, keeps one on edge and so perhaps that is the source.

Tuesday Masquerade

Ah, Tuesday, second day of the week, day before the middle day of the week which will signify the week is half over. I could learn to like Tuesday - except that my desk is running over because yesterday was a holiday. Never mind that for the whole month of May I have actually had 10 working days to do my job. Everything else was meetings, holidays, vacations, business trip, and interruptions. Heaven forbid if the paperwork falls below the level of my head for more than one day.

On top of that, this is the end of the month and things only roll faster when they are headed downhill.

I also wonder what all these people do when they aren't in my office turning in more paperwork or calling to complain that they are paying too much rent? Sadly, I have no one to call and complain about my rent.

This Tuesday looks suspiciously like a Monday.

End of a Holiday

The long weekend ends tonight. I go back to the mill tomorrow and put my nose to the grindstone. I always hate the end of the day when it is the last day of a weekend or holiday. It is so depressing.

Today I went to the store and picked up some panels to make a couple of maternity skirts for Becca. I made two skirts and hemmed three of them between 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. I love sewing but I am usually just tired after work and don't want to do anything at all.

I think, however, that I am going to make myself a skirt soon. One of the fabrics I used made a beautiful skirt and I want one out of it. I have enough to probably make three more skirts. I also have a crate of fabric from when I sewed all my own clothes. So, with a baby girl on the way I will have to make a better effort to sew more, I guess.

Good night friends, if you are reading this. I am done for this holiday. Next holiday is July 4 and I am supposed to go out of town on the Saturday before to a concert in Owensboro KY... Crabbe Family festival. My uncle has bought tickets for us for Saturday and I think we will go on Friday night.

Remembering the Sacrifices

Today is Memorial Day. It is a day set aside to contemplate and give honor to America's war dead for the sacrifices they made to the cause of freedom and democracy.

Take a moment today, particularly if you are an American, to say a prayer of thanks for those who gave their lives. And for those Vets who are still alive, shake their hands or hug them and tell them how much you appreciate what their sacrifices.

If you have a family member who is currently serving in the military, thank you for the sacrifices you have made. Too often those who have no connection with the military have no idea that the families of soldiers and Vets make sacrifices as well. It is not easy for a spouse to pack up and move every two to four years and set up housekeeping, find new churches, schools and friends.

Soldiers may also spend months away from their families. Children may not see their military parent for weeks, months, and in wartime, for years. The soldier may return home after a parent, sibling, spouse or child has died, never having the opportunity to say goodby. Soldiers may receive letters from their spouse or girlfriend that end the relationship.

So, thank a vet or soldier for their service. Thank God for their dedication.

Everyone Needs a Name

Sarah Cheyenne is the name picked for out little girl. A bit old fashioned and a bit unique. Her grandmothers both picked out her names with her mama's final approval. We kind of like it. Sarah means Princess in Hebrew.

Cheyenne is a bit more difficult. There appears to be some disagreement on the meaning of it. It is, of course, the name of an Indian tribe. One posed definition is "those who speak in an alien tongue". I find this interesting since we are Pentecostal and believe in speaking in "other or unknown" tongues.

Somehow, it seems to belong to her already... and there is a nice story behind the choice. More on that later.

It's A Girl!

We got the news today that the baby is going to be a girl! They got there ultrasound and the doctor pronounced it was a girl. She said she has not been wrong in six years. I suspect that is probably because she also said when she is not sure she doesn't tell the parents one or the other.

They don't have a name picked out yet for a girl. They had one for a boy... but not a girl. So, now begins the fun. Trying to find a pretty girl's name.

I have to start thinking about sewing little girl clothes again. What fun that will be for me.

Do I Hear $5000?

It is another Monday gone and I managed to get a lot of things accomplished at work. I don't know about the rest of my life. It appears it is still in the pits and sinking fast.

I am praying for $5000. Seriously. I have asked God for $5000. I don't have any way to get it. I have no way to earn it. Now one is going to give it to me that I am aware of. I can't steal it because I don't steal, even if I had a clue where to steal that kind of money. So, I have told God that I need it.

You laugh. So what if I don't get it? I haven't hurt anyone or committed a crime. I have done nothing wrong.

Now, the alternative is that I do get it. At this point I don't much care as long as it is honest and I don't have to pay it back. If I could pay it back I wouldn't need it. So let's say by some means I do get it. Then, I have done nothing wrong. I have not hurt anyone, or committed a crime. And I can pay off at least some of my debts.

You wonder why I don't ask for more, say $10,000? Well, I believe that we are only promised what we need. I know that I need at least $5000. I could use $10,000 and be nearly debt free. I figure being greedy, even though I need more, is foolish. So, I ask for the least amount I can use. If God wants to bless me with more, great. If he only provides what I ask for, well, I will be very glad.

I know, it is silly, stupid, ignorant, ludicrious, etc. Well, you handle your problems your way and I will handle mine my way. I am no worse off for asking if I don't get it and if I do get it, well, I figure you'll be calling me. I'll let you know how it turns out.

An American Haunting Historically Inaccurate

Another Saturday ends with me feeling as if I have spent a day working. Actually, I did work from 8-12 today. The rest of the afternoon was spent watching An American Haunting. Don’t waste your money. It is not worth it. I love movies like The Others, The Sixth Sense, and The Village. And this movie started out interesting but it has a lame ending and leaves you feeling like you missed something or that the writers ran out of ideas and just tossed in child molesters because NBC Dateline is getting kudos for catching predators.

I was already familiar with the Bell Witch case in Tennessee. I have read several stories about it and when I saw this movie was based on that case, I searched on-line to read up again. I was truly looking forward to seeing how they used the most documented haunting case in American history to make a movie where it was “happening again”. The truth is that it was about an hour and a half of a very pretty girl screaming and being dragged around her bedroom floor and slapped by invisible hands.

The other children in the household, whom the historical accounts state were also tormented the way Betsy was, were barely seen, let alone mentioned in the movie. People actually had conversations with the entity haunting the Bell family and yet, they eliminated the significant details from the movie. Most important to me was that the return of the entity 7 years later was excluded from the movie, even thought the entity itself is reported to have said it would return. They made it sound as if once John Bell died the whole thing went away. That was not the case at all.

If this were a fictional story it might have been ok but the fact that it was “based” on a true account, aggravated me. As a history major, I expect that when I am told something is based on an actual event that it will be true to the record in large part. They billed this movie as based on fact.

They did put a disclaimer at the end stating that the movie was just one possible explanation of the events as recorded in history. However, by excluding some of the most telling information of the original account they make their premise unbelievable… at least to me. It was all hokey by the end of the movie.

This had the potential to be a really good scary movie and turned into a statement about fathers molesting their children and the mother being blissfully blind.

Two thumbs down and a half eaten 3 Musketeers.

Wishing for A Long Summer Day

Yesterday was Beautification Day at the Housing Authority where I work. I was out hoeing, raking, and cutting. I am sore today. Rather than hire goundskeepers for their housing sites they get the employees to do it once a year. You could tell too, because there were leaves and debris that was a year old. No one had been cleaning anything. Government spending at its finest.

I don’t really want to go there. For two years we were in the papers because the all the guys in charge were mishandling funds. Then we had a year of relative quite and then next guy that came in did the same thing. Then HUD sends in the “roto rooter” people and we have had about two years of quiet. But who knows, that could change tomorrow!

I have to hit the sack in a moment. Tomorrow is Wednesday and the week is half gone. I have a business trip the end of this month and tons of work to get accomplished before then. I am out of vacation time, out of sick time, and so out of sync with working. I want a long, summer day on the sand with the Gulf of Mexico about 10 feet away. It is not happening unless someone donates about $5000 to me to drive off the predators.

Everyone is Boring after Fifteen Minutes

You know, I think most people are boring. Really. There is not enough to the average person to interest anyone for more than 15 minutes. Think about it. If the people you knew were interesting you wouldn't be scouting the web for blogs of people you hoped would be interesting. You would be having reviting conversations with the interesting people you actually know! You would be doing interesting things with those interesting people.

But no, here you sit, reading the thoughts, ideas, and predjudices of people you either don't know or hardly know and trying to find someone who shares the same thoughts, ideas and predjudices as you. And then you are dissatisfied because they are all. . . boring. Admit it, we are all boring.

My goodness yes, even I am boring. This is all about me, after all. My blog is about my boring thoughts, life, family, ideas, and views. I don't care much for politics because I despise liars. I don't care much for movies because they are vicarious living at its worst, although I do like Star Wars immensley... another world where people are much less boring. I don't drink because I do not like being out of control. I don't smoke because I have seen the effects of smoking on the skin of women my age. It is not a pretty sight and for nearly 50 I look pretty good. (No the photo is NOT retouched.) I have no intention of tanning my face to leather. And sex is only interesting for short periods of time and then you have to find something else to do. I speak from a woman's point of view. I am sure the male view of sex differes considerably. It is why men are often the most boring. Everything is about sex. . . even if it isn't.

I thought for a while that there might be some blogs out there that were interesting but they are all about the writers or their views of politics, cute kids, new jobs, other boring people, hobbies, etc. So, up to this point, all of the ones I have run across are pretty much just as boring as you think this one is. I guess I will stick to writing my boring blog and ignore the rest.

But now, I really have to go. I am feeling very sleepy. I did say most people were boring, didn't I?

Finding Lost Treasure

This Sunday is Mother's Day in Austraila. Next Sunday is Mother's Day here in the U.S.

I didn't know they had Mother's Day anywhere else in the world. The woman who began the tradition here in America was from a little town called Henderson, Kentucky. They have an historical plaque to show where her home was in Henderson.

I guess it is possible that they have a mother's day in a lot of places. America has given birth to some wonderful ideals. Celebrating the value of mother's and fathers is a good one. We even have one now that celebrates grandparents. Can't remember when that is but I suspect right after Father's day, which is next month.

Mama died in January 2, 1974. She was my grandmother but she raised me and in every sense of the word was my mama. I have never stopped missing her.

I hope that you will call your mother. It means so much just to get a call for no reason but to say "You are the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me." Try it.

The Bible says in Proverbs 31, "Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. . . .Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."

Mama was treasure. I've been broke since the day she died.

Vain Attempts

O.k. I need to update the blog and try as I might I can't find one thing that anyone would be interested in.

My week of vacation has been a bust. I spent most of it getting the house rearranged so we could all fit in it with Mike here now. I am exhausted if I think about it. I am trying not to think about it.

Today is Saturday and this post was originally intended for Thursday! Does that tell you anything? This morning I have spent reconciling my bank statement. I have $25 between me and next Friday.

I also finished a book I have been trying to read for three weeks. Not a bad book but not reviting. I made a mistake and joined this program that sends me three novels in the romantic suspense genra. They get to me about a month before they get to the newstand.

So, I get a early shot at them... all for about $15 a month, which is cheaper than going to Wal-mart and buying them if you factor in the price of gas. So far there have been three out of four shipments that I didn't care for. Since money is now a major concern, I put the account on hold until August.

I did the same with my panty hose company, Silkies. I buy them mail order as well. I am trying to figure out what else I can stop spending on. This morning it was 60 degrees and I had no heat or air on. This despite Mike's and my allergies. I am sitting here in my red study with a small electric heater trying to warm myself. When I get cold my joints ache with the RA.

It is still cool out but I refuse to give the energy monster any extry money this month. Vectren is a bandit gobbling up its own customers.

Well, enough of that! Reciting all my vain attempts to accomplish something can get pretty boring. I am considering working on an update to my website. So, with that noble endeavor in mind I will take my leave.

Regrets and Answered Prayers

Again I have waited until after midnight to post to the blog. I am not sure why that seems to be the golden hour but it does.

Tonight is the last official night of my vacation and I am finding myself very depressed. The last three weeks have been long, stressful, and depressing. Mike got his divorce papers today but still doesn’t want to sign them. We will support that decision because we also do not believe in divorce. We believe that there are other ways to deal with problems in a marriage instead of running away. But frankly, I would not bat an eye if he signed them.

This person’s behavior is not a surprise to us and I would commit a much greater sin if I said I was sorry she is gone. There was never a minute that we felt Mike was doing the right thing when he married this girl. There were so many red flags that it looked like a railroad flagman’s convention. For nearly a year, we tried over and over, to talk him out of it. We managed to get a nearly a year’s courtship before finally telling them to marry in December of that year. We felt since we couldn’t stop it that at least they could get a little extra money by filing taxes together. They had so little money to start with that is seemed foolish to not take advantage of something we couldn’t stop anyway.

I thought about that last night, about how I had called and told them to just go ahead and change the May wedding to a December wedding. Mike had asked me why and I said, “You are going to marry anyway so you might as well get some financial benefit out of it.” So, maybe I should have stuck to my guns and said “Never!” Maybe if I had just done that, something would have happened to stop the whole thing. But I didn’t.

I have many regrets but mostly, I think we all feel betrayed. She never loved our son and we knew it beyond any doubt. But we tried so hard to love and accept her. Jerry thought the world of her and really liked her so much more than I did. And we felt compassion for her because we knew that our son was a big responsibility for anyone and from what we had seen of her we knew she was incapable of handling a marriage to him.

We knew why she married him from our early conversations with her. She made comments like “this is my last chance”, “My younger sisters got married first and I want to have the first baby”, “I don’t like controlling men”. So many other statements that were so revealing. But he would not listen. So, she saw a disabled man she could control and she married him to get pregnant. When she found she could not have children and she couldn’t really control him, she arranged to dump him.

I think the most evil thing was that on Tuesday night she told him she missed him and loved him and on Wednesday night she told him she had filed for divorce. She told him she had planned it for a month, all the while kissing him, hugging him, telling him she loved him, and having sex with him.

I prayed for two years that if this marriage was not going to work, and she was not going to be good to my son, that no children would be born. I am so glad God answers prayers. Mike told me tonight, “Mom, I think I am going to be all right.” God does answer prayers.

A Day in a Feather Bed

Depression on a cloudy day is much better than on a sunny day. On a gloomy day the world is a feather bed, with no sharp edges, and the air--soft, cool, and sweet. Everything seems to be cushioned and blunted and you can sink into it, close your eyes, and close your mind. It is a little like a large padded cell. You can’t hurt yourself on a gloomy day because all the sharp edges are gone. And if it rains, it can wash away all the debris that has accumulated.

On sunny days everything has razor edges that can lacerate a wounded spirit. You look out and the reflection on the blade of the day blinds you and hurts your eyes. Green has become a weapon and concrete a furnace. Everything you brush against seems to have points and angles that wound. All you want to do is crawl back into that feather bed until darkness blunts the sharp places of the day.

I love gloomy days.

Today is a gloomy day.

Felling Trees and Planning Meals

Monday dawned as dreary as the previous day but as the morning wanned the sun peeked from behind gray clouds. Between light showers they mowed the lawn with a weed trimmer. The mower say idle and mocking, testament to machine triumph over man.

She swung the axe and felled several of the overgrown hedges before handing it off to her son. He was far less skilled at axe weilding, despite being 27 years old. She had made sure that he had never had to learn such skills. Her experience came years ago when she had to cut firewood for the stove because her grandfather was too drunk to stand, let alone swing an axe. She had cut cord after cord to warm the house in the winter. At 15 her muscle tone was one models would envy today and she could eat anything she wanted. She could also move furniture alone back then. Times changed. But she still knew how to swing an axe. Tomorrow, the pain would be horrendous. Today, she just does what has to be done.

Now, her hunger was announcing itself loudly and she dragged the axe and rake to the shed and stowed them away. Something cold to drink and something hot to eat were as far as she had planned this day. Sometimes thinking beyond the moment was far more work than chopping down trees.