Beautiful...

She walked rapidly across the parking lot, her bare hands pulling her worn wool-blend coat around her in an effort to fight the bitter wind. A brown faux leather pocketbook dangled from her left arm and a faded limp cloth flower bobbed on her lapel with each hurried step she took.

Her dish-water-blond hair was pulled up from her face in a scraggly pony tail, a scrunchy held it in place but not too well. The strands of hair that had escaped flew wildly around her pale plain face. Her sad eyes were downcast and there were dark circles under them. She looked tired. She was worn. And she didn't know she was beautiful.

As she got in to her non-descript white early model car she was probably thinking of the errands she needed to run, the laundry that needed to be done and the dust bunnies under the bed. All work that waited for her day in and day out in a never ending cycle of chores and tasks with no time for fun, no time for romance.

She longed for it though. A time to be in the spotlight. A time when her husband would look over from the television and smile at her. To recognize her. To tell her she is pretty. She wanted to know that she was loved and appreciated. But it never came. Oh she was sure her husband loved her and that her kids needed her but there was something more she needed. She needed to know that she was special even if it was in some small way.

As she drove along thoughts returned to her that she had pushed away long ago. The thought that there was more to this life than chores. She had heard stories about women like her. Plain women who became princesses and even queens. "What about Cinderella?" she wondered. But no, Cinderella was beautiful under all that soot, wasn't she? She tired of this line of thinking and turned on the radio for some distraction. She turned the tuner knob to find a station with some lively music to listen to...something to shake off the funk. As she scanned the air-waves with her right hand and drove with her left she heard the baritone voice of the announcer say "You are beautiful!" surprised that she would hear that particular phrase at this particular moment she glanced quickly down at the radio dial wondering if she had stumbled on to a radio serial program, perhaps an infomercial about facial products but then...in the next breath the announcer said..."I created you. I thought about you since the beginning of time. You are My rare gem. There is no one like you in all the earth." She pulled the car into a parking lot as the tears streamed down her face and parked. She wanted to hear the rest of this story...one that had coincidentally mirrored her questions. She had to see how it ended. Who was the announcer speaking too?

"You, woman, are My crowning glory. The one I created to nurture the earth. My heart that beats physically among the rest. My beauty in physical form." She was looking at the radio...tears flowing freely down her cheeks...waiting, wondering when the station break would occur and she would learn what she was listening to but it never did because she then remembered that her radio was broken. Way down in the center of her being, the walls around her heart began to crumble and fall away as she began to understand that God was the Announcer...speaking to her heart, telling her He had created her just the way she was for a purpose.

As the walls fell, so did the weariness of her life. And as she sat in her beat up car, in a parking lot in town, in the biting cold, she began to bloom as a radiant smile lit up her face in the realization that she was loved...she mattered...and because of Him...she was beautiful.

Broken...

Almost every time I see my grandkids I hear the line....

"Bubbie, this is broken can you fix it?"

And most of the time I can. But lately I have had a few experiences where I couldn't fix it; wouldn't even try to fix it, and was sick to death that I couldn't.

It had been a beautiful day. Lots of sunshine, a few camp fires, nice people, music and food. The youngest of the generations enjoying the cool fall air were running around playing tag or swinging or playing on the bus or just hanging out while the rest were laughing and talking and feeding the flames of the fire and the hunger in their tummies. Everyone had a great time and at the end of the day, returned to their respective homes.

I had company on my trip home because Mikeala had elected to ride with me for the half-hour trip and we had a really nice talk. The kind of talk that seven-year-olds enjoy; filled with questions about life and anecdotes about school. We laughed and we sang and we teased each other until I pulled into the driveway and gave her kisses and hugs good-bye.

About twenty minutes later the phone rang...I didn't get to it fast enough but knew it was Liz's house. I tried to call back with no answer. I thought it was just one of the kids playing around and settled back in to watch TV and eat my supper. All of a sudden Jasmine and Devon exploded through my front door screaming and crying hysterically. I jumped up as did Dave and went to see what they were carrying on about. I was a little angry because I thought at first that they were just being loud...until I saw their faces. Something was horribly wrong.
"Oh my God, Oh my God...She..she..." Jasmine sobbed, "WHAT?" I yelled. "She broke her freakin' arm! It's on BACKWARD!" "WHO?" I shouted. "Mikeala! Mommy and Daddy are taking her to the hospital right now and...oh my God!"

It took my twenty minutes to calm them enough to talk with them, comfort them, and begin to worry about Kaykay myself. The kids told me that she had been roller skating and she fell and her arm was on backward and they hated roller skates and Devon said he should have protected her and I calmly said, "Well I've learned something..." of course they wanted to know what I had learned and I said..."you really do love your little sister."
"WELL, DUH!!!!" They cried.

She went through a night of ambulances, hospitals, resetting her arm and finally surgery to pin the bones in place. And after just four weeks, the cast is off and she is beginning to use her arm again. Kids mend fast. And of course her sister and brother were nice to her that whole time...I wonder if that will continue now that her cast is off.

But then there was another break. This time a broken heart. No it wasn't a relationship break-up the whole "It's not you it's me" thing...it was the broken hearts of a mother and child. You see, the mother is now experiencing the new phase of pre-teenism. Her little girl is no longer little and wants to push boundaries and as a result, feelings get hurt and hearts break and tears fall. The look on the mothers face said, "I love you too much to let you rebel and disrespect me." The look on the daughters face said, "I love you but I need to grow up and I am trying on new wings." The mothers eyes were red from crying as were the little girls and they were searching out clues. Clues that would allow them to heal the other ones hurt without backing down from their stand.

The mom had a good point and yet, the child did too. Mom wants child to listen and be respectful and child wants mom to let go. I remember it well with my own children. It's never easy. In the end there were kisses and hugs and "I love yous" but each one had grown a little bit in their role.

Broken.

A tiny girl, just two years old, realizes her family is broken. She is sad. She wants to be loved and cherished and live in a home where there is life and not yelling. Safety not scary. And we hope for her and we pray for her and we love her. But we can't be with her always.

Can we fix it? Sometimes. But there is One who can every time. Even when Mikeala was falling toward the floor He was protecting her. She broke her arm instead of her neck. She could have been catastrophically injured...or worse. He was with her in the ambulance and in the operating room. He was with her family as they waited for news. He was there...comforting.

When the mother and daughter were arguing He was watching. He was tugging on their heart strings to remind them that they were precious to each other and not to go to far in the face of anger...and they listened to their hearts.

And the little two-year-old who lays in her bed at night thinking two-year-old thoughts that are too old for her....He is with her too. Maybe most especially...because she is alone.

When our lives get broken we cry and worry and think thoughts that are too old for us but if we whisper "Jesus, can you fix it?" He wraps His loving arms around us...and He does.

Who's On First?...

My grandson William has a great "Who's on First" act and he doesn't even know it. You see, William is four. He has entered in to his fearless fours which, having dealt with four-year-olds fairly often, I think should be called the imgonnawhineandwhineuntiligetmyway-fours or the imgrowingupfastbutstillwanttobethebabysowatchmecry-fours.

He is extremely smart, and no, I am not saying that just because he is my grandson. All of my grand kids are smart....but I've been watching children in general and have noticed that all children seem smarter than they were in the past.

Anyway, Will wanted a snack cake the other day. He wanted it right before lunch and I said no. Here is the dialog that ensued...

W (in that familiar whinny voice all parents have come to enjoy): "But I want one"
Me: "No you have to eat your lunch first."
W: "But I want it now."
Me: "You have to eat your lunch first and then you can have a snack cake."
W: "But you said yesterday that I could have it today."
Me: "Yes I did but after your lunch."
W: "But I don't want my lunch...I'm not hungry for lunch today."
Me: "Well then, you'll have to wait until you are hungry for lunch so you can eat your snack cake."
W: "But I want it NOW!"
Me: "Okay, right after you eat your lunch."
W: "But I don't WANT my lunch"
Me: "Okay. Go play and when you want your lunch come tell me."
W: "I want to eat lunch now."
Me: "Okay, what do you want for lunch?"
W: "I don't want to eat lunch."
Me: "Go play then..."
W: "But I want to eat my lunch!"
Me: "What do you want for lunch?"
W: "I want a snack cake. A white one"
Me: "Okay, (he smiles) you can have a snack cake right after you EAT YOUR LUNCH!"
W: (He turns and runs through the house and dramatically throws himself on the couch and cries like his heart is broken...there are no tears. A plaintive muffled voice comes from the middle of the cushion he has buried his face in....) "I want a snack cake now...I don't want to eat my lunch...just a snack cake...you promised...."

His daddy was standing there listening to all of this and when Will ran over and buried his head...his daddy and I looked at each other and silently laughed as we shook our heads.

The minute Will noticed we were basically ignoring his little tirade, he got up and slumped over and said..."I want my lunch now."
Me: "Okay, what would you like for lunch?"
Will: "But I want a snack cake!:

This could have gone on forever but his dad stepped in and put an end to it. Of course with the simple two word command..."Will, stop," the little guy ran and buried his head again but eventually he ate his lunch and, as a result, got his snack cake.

You would think that by the time a child is four they would understand that no means no and that resistance is futile...but they don't. I don't think any of us wants to hear the word "No" but we do...probably every day. We pray and ask for things and most often we hear "no" and we pout and whine and beg and still the answer is "No". But just as I wanted Will to have something good for him before he filled his belly with sweets, God wants us to have what is good for us before He gives us the treats. He wants us to be prepared with the solid food of His word before we step into dessert land. And it's hard. I know there were, and still are, times that I want to through myself down and whine that I want something NOW! but I know God has my life in control and to mess with it would be heartbreaking for me. As a result, I try to be obedient and savour the Word before I ask for treats.

I guess I learn things from the kids. Maybe I'm using my wrinkly brain. According to William...if you are smart, it's because you have a wrinkly brain.

Some peoples four-year-olds.

Tranquility

When I was a little girl I lived in a ranch style home in New Albany. Our home was located on Harlem road and was nestled in a grove of hedge apple, maple and thorn trees. In front of our house was a pond that was creek fed. I don't know where the creek began and I don't know where it ended but for the entire time we lived there, it was explored. The pond was everything to me. I would go out to fish for the blue gill and the other fish, probably catfish, and I would look for crawdads. My sisters and friends and I would wade in the creeks and catch tadpoles and frogs, look for turtles and try to stay away from the snakes. We had a large snapping turtle who lived under the bridge in the lower creek so we kept and eye on our toes and each time one of the neighbor kids would spot the legendary snapper, it would have grown in size and weight. By the time we moved from there that turtle could have eaten Jaws if the two met. Of course there were various furry creatures; beavers, muskrats, a mink, that didn't show themselves much in the light of day but it was fun to try to find them as we waded down the creek. We would see holes dug in the bank by some critter and swear that it was the wild mink that lived there. We never saw the mink but it, along with the snapping turtle gave us endless adventures in our own little safari. On days when we didn't feel like getting wet or it was too cold out, our pond became a huge "soup bowl" and fed the giant who lived in our imaginations. My friends and I would sit by the pond with a collection of leaves and flowers and seed pods and berries and pretend to be the giant's servants. We would make mud pies and roll large leaves around them to make "cabbage rolls" and we would make salads complete with mushrooms and even an occasional minnow soup. The giant would be pleased and reward us with time off to go explore for more "exotic" foods for his next meal. My friend Desiree had an old concrete-mixing trough that she would put into the pond to use as a boat and we would paddle around in that and she had a large fishing net stretched between two long poles with floats on the top and we would go to the upper creek and each take a pole and walk slowly up the creek to see what we could catch in our net. It was a blast! We caught all sorts of pond creatures but we would just look at them and then turn them loose again. That pond was the focus of all of our play. No matter what the season, we were in, around, on and near the pond. In winter, we ice skated, in summer we waded, in spring we waited for all of our hibernating friends to come play with us as we watched the snow and ice melt and in fall we watched the leaves from the trees land on the surface of the water creating miniature boats in which insects and other miniature passengers sailed to the lower creek and parts unknown to us. Sometimes when it was really hot out, we would "fall in" to cool off. We weren't allowed to swim in the pond because our moms were scared that it had diseases. The parents thought that the sewers emptied into that pond but, thinking back, it was just clean water coming from septic tanks. It had been filtered and with the abundance of water life and plants, it was clean enough to play in. Yes, there were some dangers; leeches, snapping turtles, an errant piece of broken glass (found by my sister and causing a huge gash in her foot that needed many stitches and eventually surgery) and of course the snakes, but I was drawn there nonetheless....no matter how much trouble I might get in, because even at that young age, it was a place of peace and tranquility. A place I would go even by myself to sit and reflect and watch and learn. I will never forget the sounds and the smells or the wildlife. I mean after all, who needed at television set or a video game? I had the Discovery Channel right there in my front yard! It was interactive too! And as for video games? I could play "Frogger" for real! I never thought I would be so blessed as to have a pond in my front yard ever again. You see, I've become a "city girl" spoiled by all the conveniences of shopping and dining and activities and PEOPLE around me...so I would sit and dream or bring back the memories of the pond and wish that my grand babies would have that kind of enjoyment too. But just when I thought it was too late...that I would only have a pond in my mind...my friend Joe got the ball rolling with some landscaping in my front yard and my son-in-law Shane constructed a beautiful waterfall with TWO ponds and a creek! He worked hard all summer. He would dig and fight with tree roots my pond is under my big maple tree and lug stones and flat rocks and fight with the rubber liners and all the plumbing and then he built the waterfall with heavy stones and mortar and pipe and electricity to make it all work. I waited patiently and sometimes not so patiently for his work to be completed. I could hardly stand it until I had my very own pond in my very own yard. And the first time we turned on the pumps to run the falls I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning. The falls, created with flat field stones and old ornamental ceramic bird bath pieces, empty into a heart shaped pond that flows over a little dam into the creek that eventually empties into another oval pond at the bottom of the yard. There is a dragon who guards the creek and an over sized snail who guards the falls. It is beautiful in both image and sound. The relaxing sound of splashing water. It's fun to watch the cats drink out of it and the other critters be curious about it. I can hardly wait until they get brave enough to drink or swim or bathe in it too! Since it is a new pond, it doesn't have that musky pond smell yet but I know it will. Perhaps if I add some wildlife to it...a few fish and maybe a crawdad or two. I have a fake turtle because I think turtles would wander off but it's okay.... I have a beautiful yard. I can see all of my plants now. and thanks to my Shane.... I have a pond.

They Came From The Drain.......

I couldn't believe it. They were there, just like it was nothing to be crushed and drowned. Some of them happily waiting for their next victim, others just hanging out to see what happened next.


They all deserved it. They were blood sucking freaks that wanted to torment everyone within their reach. They would stop at nothing. It was their goal to make life miserable with their gluttony.

I tried poison. I tried to drown them. When I would catch one I would work hard to squish its guts out or crush its head. And I would wait and wonder, late in the night if they would come back just like Freddie or Jason or 'ski-mask guy'; never being destroyed. And they they did because after my murderous evening the night before, they were back with a vengeance. I didn't want to call in help, I didn't want to involve the authorities, I wanted to handle it myself. I didn't want them to win.


I took their victim and carefully placed him in the bath tub. I wanted to give him a soothing warm bath and clean up the places where they had been torturing him. I wanted to help him feel better and as I ran the warm water over his body he trembled with pleasure because the torment was over. I lathered his body with the special body wash that made him smell nice and would cleanse his skin and hair, and rinsed it well. I took my time because I knew the possibility, nay the probability of him being tortured again was inevitable, but I was helpless to save him.

I watched with satisfaction as his tormentors were flushed down the drain. They would no longer be able to suck the very life out of him. They were dead. Drowned. Never to be able to bite anyone again....


or so I thought.

I went back several hours later and there they were. Lazing about in the tub, waiting. The victim, sensing another enjoyable bath, jumped into the tub..."NOOOOO!" I screamed, "THEY WILL ATTACK YOU AGAIN AND START SUCKING YOUR BLOOD!!!" I helped him out of the tub and grabbed the shower head again to spray them. Cries of anguish met my ears as they floated in the current around and around......only to return a little later laughing maniacally at the futility of my persistent actions and the whole process started again.

I did call in a little bit of professional help after my exasperation over took me. The professionals said that there was trouble all over the city and I could...."give 'em another dose of poison". So I did slathering the victim in a coat of chemically fortified goo that would bring the tormentors to their knees and eventually their demise. But in calling for help, I was instructed I may have to use chemical warfare because the tormentors have probably TAKEN OVER MY HOUSE!

I decided to call in the R.A.I.D. Squad.

They are highly trained in the annihilation of tormentors. The R.A.I.D. Squad knows the ins and outs of killing. They use stealth, superior quality gasses and the precise mixture of chemicals to make the kill quick and complete....all in an attractive purple canister.

I carried the canister into the bathroom shaking it slightly as instructed and took aim at the lounging tormentors. I deftly pressed the ignition button and a fine mist of death penetrated the bottom of the tub. I heard them gasping, some of them trying to jump out of the way but within seconds they were dead....completely dead....they had forgotten to don their gas masks in their arrogance.

I won that battle but alas my companion, the victim of their treachery, continues to have armies of tormentors sucking the life out of him. He can't sleep, he runs around naked, and he isn't loved on as much....only because I have to be strong, not inflicted, just so I can continue to fight.

For now, I will persist....to use the R.A.I.D. Squad's "death by canister" system, the chemically fortified goo and soothing baths for my companion.

I will win this fight and score a victory for the little guy!

I just need to keep an eye on that drain!

Bits and Pieces...

I have a lot going through my head these days. I don't know quite where to start but my brain feels like a sponge that needs to be squeezed real hard. I don't know what will come spilling out but hold on to your hats because here I go.....


I went bowling for a year the other day. A local bowling alley had a special deal where kids age four to seventeen bowled free. Three games...and all other bowling was a dollar a game. Food was a dollar and the music was fun too. So Dave the Younger, Lori and five of the grand kids went to bowl a few games. It seemed like a fun thing to do...it was a cloudy day out and I don't think anyone was interested in swimming. It turned out even better when the storms started.


Anyway...here we are, three adults and five kids at the bowling alley. The kids had the bumpers so they had to knock pins down and we had all five of them on one alley. Thank goodness we were on the alley at the far end, more privacy there, and us big kids had the lane right next to them.


They chose their bowling balls and Dave the Younger entered them in to the computer well, not THEM personally but their names and the fun began. Mikeala decided to immediately become paralyzingly shy and refused to throw her ball. This was a problem because she was first to bowl! I finally rolled it for her and eventually she warmed up to the game and threw her own. I hope she grows out of that shyness because she has so much to offer! Anyway, each child had a different tactic to how to throw the ball and the were doing pretty well.......but is was sooooo slooooowwww.

Will would throw his ball and we would wait and wait and wait and wait for it to hit the pins and practically stop but he would get them down and hurry to get the next one rolling.

It happened that way with each one of the younger ones and then Jasmine and Devon rocketed their ball as is bounced off of the bumpers sever times on the way down. I told Dave the Younger that they had invented "Pinball Bowling"!

The alley had music playing...loudly but not annoyingly loud. It was current pop music and even some of the older stuff but it was sung by Alvin and the Chipmunks or the Wiggles or thank God Barney didn't offer a tune some cartoon character. There was a song from a Sponge Bob episode that I enjoyed very much and several from High School Musical. i really need to see that movie and now the sequel And the kids just couldn't help but dance. They sang and danced and bowled and ate pizza and had root beer and well we had a blast!! It was a great day. Even though it took four hours to bowl three games. Kind of turtley don't you think?

It's all Dave the Younger's fault!!!!....

Okay, I would have finished this up yesterday but I like to read my "Blogging Family News" first. I started with Dave's. He had a title and exactly two sentences....with a link....thanks a lot!!!
Okay, here is the number one rule....never send a mind teaser game with graphics and challenges to an obsessive compulsively handicapped person with not much time on her hands....
The Impossible Quiz is not impossible although it is a challenge....I'm at question number 74 or 75 and am really enjoying it even if it is draining the life out of me and making me not want to do anything else until it is finished!!! UGH...

I will finish it though. I've learned the secrets....if I don't learn them...I know where to find them...but if YOU want to know them it'll cost you :) Truthfully I've only "cheated" once because I love my computer and I love my husband even lots more than that and I wouldn't want to loose either one of them because I went to the shed and got the hatchet and came in here and smashed the smithereens out of my precious window to the world of insanity.......

Maybe I can get the kids involved and use it as a teaching reference...that would make my time playing it educational and we always have time for education, right?

In the meantime...I'll go back to blowing up bombs...petting kittys...picking carrots and wondering what the heck they meant by that answer.....

Try the Impossible Quiz yourself but here is my disclaimer...you didn't hear about The Impossible Quiz from me...I don't want to be responsible for dirty houses, hungry husbands and weeds in the flower beds. Nor do I want to be responsible for the horrible demise of helpless computers either.

Oh, and if you don't hear from me in the next couple of days....come pry my cold dead hands off my mouse and help me call it a day...

What? Are they CRAZY?...

Okay, I want you to try this....

I want you to hop up onto the top of the fence, leap onto the next tree branch you see and follow that branch to the trunk of the tree. Then I want you to climb to the top of the tree and walk out on the nearest branch...to the very end...and, with your teeth, dislodge a newly grown walnut and hold it in your mouth. Now I want you to go back to the tree's trunk, go down HEAD FIRST to about the middle of that trunk and walk out onto the next branch. Don't drop your walnut!

As you get to the tip of that branch, I want you to leap to the branch of the next tree and run along that branch to the trunk of that tree. Climb the trunk of this tree to the electrical and coaxial cables that are attached to that telephone pole and jump on to the cables. Be really careful not to hit that electrical transformer! This time I want you to run along the cable listening to the dogs below you bark ferociously as you hope you don't fall into those teeth, and make a right turn at the next pole. Leap from the cables onto the branch of yet another tree and climb to the top where your home is located. NOW you may rest.

Oh wait....did I say a walnut? Are you the same size as you are now in this scenario? Hmmm.....in order for this to work, instead of grabbing a walnut in your mouth because of your size I want you to grab a twenty-five pound bowling ball. There, that makes the equivalent just about right.

If you were a squirrel gathering walnuts, you would make this trek several times a day. I watch the squirrels in our yard gathering walnuts and let me tell you, they can't possibly have an ounce of fat on them. If they were people, they would have bodies that would rival any of our best athletes. And even at that, I don't think our best athletes could do a squirrel run!

Not only do they have to go through this monstrous agility course just to get their dinner...they have to open the outer hull with their teeth...crack or chew through the inner shell to get to the little nut inside and then, and only then, do they get to eat it. It's a lot of hard work.

When I watch them it makes me want to work harder too. I should be more industrious and maybe that would help me to be in better shape. I'm not ready to climb a tree or carry twenty-five pound bowling balls in my teeth but I think I could keep busy and use my muscles.

Do I want to be super athlete? No...I just want to be a little squirrely.

Young Love...

I think I was in sixth grade when I had my first real crush. Actually two of them. The first and I was one of millions was Davy Jones of the Monkeys. He was the quintessential crush of the late '60's. And I was in luv with him.

Then there was Doug. He was handsome, smart, popular and didn't know I even existed. I thought he was the cutest boy in the world and I wanted to marry him i was eleven. Doug had all the girls looking at him and in fact, the guys too because they wanted to be like him. Sort of like Danny Zuko in Grease only Doug wasn't a "Bad" boy.

I remember in 1968 there was a Presidential Election and we did a mock election at our school in New Albany. He represented candidate Richard Nixon and I surely voted for him...Doug that is.

I used to cry because he didn't really notice me and I used to play all those girlie songs of woe and sing them really loud in my bedroom and cry because I was so in love with Doug. of course i'd forget about him the second Davy Jones would show up.

I learned toward then end of school that Doug was moving away and I cried some more. We had been through so much together. I mean I worshipped him from afar and worried about him when he had to take all those pesky rabies shots and then, just when he had started noticing me, dancing with me even at our daily lunch time "dance parties" we had a really cool teacher and kind of hanging out with me...I learned he was moving away.

HOW COULD LIFE BE SO CRUEL??

Heart broken, I vowed never to fall in love again and that I would live in a cave like a hermit.

But I did....at least five or six times more and was heart broken every single time. I thought I would NEVER find the one. Oh sure I had memories; pictures, jewelry, clothing....but I didn't have someones heart.

I never realized that I had to go through all the junk to get to the treasure. I didn't know that God had someone picked out especially for me. I didn't even know God. It wasn't until He placed me in the right place at the right time to find the treasure He had for me that I realized all of those other boys were just warm up...time killers...maturity makers...until it was the perfect time.

You are probably wondering why I'm talking about young love....puppy love. There is a young person going through this right now i won't name names because i don't want to cause any embarrassment who may need some encouragement. I would say to this young person....this is just the shaky beginning of your exploration into the world of love. You will have many more highs and lows in developing who you are in a relationship. As my mom used to say to me, every time I was heartbroken at least once a month there's more than one fish in the sea. I used to hate that...I wanted that one fish...but now, looking back...I understand.

Don't worry about the fish that got away...concentrate on your life and your walk with God and He will bring you the BEST fish ever!! You will have a grown up love that will knock your socks off! But for now....enjoy life. Don't put emphasis on "going out with" someone. Be friends with everyone and try to wait patiently for the miracle God has for you.

I do wonder what ever happened to those boys who broke my heart. But I do know this....none of them could hold a candle to the man I have now.

No not one.

Color within the lines...

I have a character flaw. Actually I have many but I want to share just one with you. I like to color between the lines.

When I get out a coloring book and my box of 64 Crayola crayons, that means I'm serious about coloring what ever picture I have carefully chosen in the coloring book. The picture has to "touch" me somehow and I will work on it until it is completed. Once I have chosen a picture, I choose the colors each of the 64 Crayolas are arranged by color from lightest with black, gray, white and the "metals" all in their own little compartment and begin to enhance my picture. Although the picture has lines to color in, I trace each of those lines with the color that section will be when completed. I've always done this. I don't know why, but I do realize that when you do that, the color seems to flow onto the paper better without the possibility of going outside the lines. That is very significant.

I have realized though and my husband and family have repeatedly pointed it out to me that I carry this thought process into my every day life. I don't like to break the rules. I guess I think that if someone took the time to make the rules, the rules must be important.

Just like yesterday. I went to Walgreen's to pick up a prescription. Instead of going to the drive-thru window, I opted to go inside because I needed a few other items. As I pulled around into the parking lot, I noticed a car...an older beater...parked at the sidewalk next to the doors. Now mind you, there were several parking spaces open not twenty-feet from the front door just begging to have cars occupy them, but no, this individual was parked right next to the front door.

I tried to put a positive spin on it thinking that the driver of that car was a little more handicapped and couldn't walk twenty feet or that they were just going in to grab something really important, really fast, and get home to a sick child. Then I thought that maybe it was a robber trying to keep his or her car ready for the great escape and from there all sorts of things went through my head. But as I entered the store, no-one had their hands up so robbery was out and I didn't see ANYONE in a hurry so that scenario was out too. There were a few people in there meandering about looking at things and sucking up the air conditioning while browsing.

I was in the store about fifteen to twenty minutes. I got my prescription, they called me by my given name...grrrr paid for it at the pharmacy counter, and then went to pick up the other items and pay for them at the check out. The couple in front of me in line where the ones who owned the car. They were both able-bodied, fairly young and strong, but had parked practically in the building because they were too lazy to walk twenty feet!!!!


I was appalled. I couldn't believe the audacity of those two. What gives them the right to color outside the lines? What would happen if I would have parked there? Would they have come out and yelled at me for parking in the FIRE LANE possibly jeopardizing the people in the store should a fire break out and the fire engines not be able to get close enough to the building?

It wasn't that couple in particular who got my Irish up. It happens everywhere. Many people seem to think that they are the only people in this world who matter. It's all about me...me...me... What do I want? What will make life better, easier, more fun, for me? What's in it for me? I don't have to do anything for anyone but ME!!!


WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM TO BRING THIS SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN...


The two shop lifters in Saturdays brawl at Walmart were apprehended after the Columbus police department and security chased them through Easton. It was stated that once Cruella DeVille got to her car, she came around to pick up her accomplice. When the car got to her the accomplice opted to take the stolen merchandise and LEAVE THE BABY BEHIND! Apparently the couple had been having quite a day of five-finger discounts when they were apprehended. When asked why the seven-month old boy was left in the cart, the accomplice replied, "he isn't my child". Apparently she was baby-sitting her god-son. The baby was turned over to children's services and was later reunited with his mother. Both Cruella and her accomplice were detained.....duh!


Another story broke yesterday at a suburban home in Columbus....

Wildlife expert Shane Ervin single handedly captured the dreaded Opossum Rex that had been terrorizing a neighborhood trash can. Several 'Tweenie children and a young girl, aged seven, had enjoyed an afternoon snack of Popsicles and animal crackers when they went to throw the wrappers away. Several screams were emitted with shouts of....."there's a 'possum in the trash can!" It was the dreaded Opossum-Rex with his little beady eyes and long slithery tail.

Quickly searching for her patented Opossum Pokin' Stick, the home owner shouted to the children..."RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!! " but before the mayhem broke out Ervin jumped up and called for his assistant to get the Opossum Handling Cloths and an Opossum Transport Container.

The children huddled together with words of "eeeewwww, gross....it's ugly," and "don't hurt it..." while the home owner stumbling around on her feet-fists took pictures of the huge creature. Ervin swiftly reached into the trash container with his Opossum Handling Cloths and placed the struggling creature in the awaiting Opossum Transport Container. The children calmed down and the Opossum-Rex was later released in a protected environment....where there are no dogs...only Dawgs.


In an effort to thwart the hostile take over of the trash-can...Ervin installed his patented Opossum Deterrent Device to the trash can and the children went back to swimming.


We will have more on this and other stories as they come in....we will now return you to programming already in progress.


Sometimes I wish I had the ...... chutzpah... to do something like that...but when I think about it I don't think I could.

I believe that there are rules for a reason. We should all try to follow them and then the world would be a much calmer place...wouldn't it? Isn't that what the Ten Commandments were for? A guide line? Do unto others? Heck, there are times I'd like to do unto others.....but instead I'll take out my box of 64 Crayolas and draw a line around the rule breakers. Maybe if I do I can color them in and they will be forced to stay within the lines.

"Who You Callin' A ....

Yesterday Dave and I went to our favorite Saturday place. Walmart.
We had a few things to pick up and surprisingly came out of there with only the things on the list. I guess we're trying to be frugal.

At any rate...as we were heading out the doors Dave noticed some commotion in the parking lot to the left of us. We could barely see all of it but it was Walmart security chasing a perp. that's detective talk for shop-lifting perpetrator When we had walked across the street to one of those little islands that are supposed to protect you from being hit by cars driven by gawkers, we turned to watch the chase.

The perp was a women. She was dark skinned, maybe from a really good tan...and had her hair all done up. She had a companion also dark skinned and her companions hair was black but half of her hair was white! She looked like Cruella DeVille in 1,001 Dalmatians. The really scary thing was that the perp was pushing a shopping cart and there was an infant carrier in the seat! I said "Holy Cow! She has a baby with her!" and Dave said..."What better cover up?"

At this point, Walmart security was trying to surround her....three of them...two guys, one white, one black and a little bitty white girl. Now I don't know what they said to the perp but she came out SWINGING! She did the two handed chest shove to the BIG black guy and shoved him back...then the little bitty white girl said something to her and the two handed chest shove answered her causing her hair to fly with the force and she almost fell down...

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At this point the perp was shoving everyone who came within arms length of her. She was yelling and although I couldn't hear what she was saying I could imagine her shouting..."Who you calling a shop-lifter??? You better leave me al......OH...NO...YOU DIT-ENT.." shove...shove..push...she began running again pushing her shopping cart with Cruella racing along with her. She turned on the security team who were on their cell phones...probably calling for back up...and shouted again..."I didn't take nothin' from yo store."...Now she gets on HER cell phone..."I'm callin' my baby daddy...." shove...shove...push. "I never heard of...what you call it? Opossum Pokin' Stick...? Hello...Baby???..."

I thought the black guy was going to take her down because he rushed at her but she pushed back really hard not even dropping her phone and I thought "DANG she must be strong!" At this point the Walmart security truck (WST) pulled up and followed the melee...ALL THE WAY TO HER CAR! I don't know what the deal was but the three who were chasing her gave up the chase and the WST took over. She was driving away in her car! The WST was on her bumper and was really doggin' her. I didn't get it. Maybe she had to leave the Walmart parking lot before the CPD could take over. We saw Cruella too but I think she was even in a different car. Seemed strange to me.

In the end...everyone remembered they were either on their way IN to Walmart or on their way out and life continued on. I don't know if they caught the perp or how many bruises the little bitty white girl may have had but DANG GIRL!

Until next time....

opossum pokin' sticks have been approved by the FDA a CPA the ASPCA and the Committee for Humane Treatment of Humans.

What Ever Happen To Horace Greenly???

I had almost forgotten about Horace Greenly and that's sad. Although I have never spoken to him, I have watched him and wondered. You see, Horace is an enigma.

I knew from the beginning that he was different. He would come in to the restaurant almost every Tuesday and sometimes on Friday...you might say he was a regular. He always came in alone and he always brought a book. Now, one might think there is nothing unusual about that but I did. You see, Horace was only about 24.

He was tallish. I couldn't tell because I was always sitting down, but I think he was about six feet tall. Maybe a little less. He had dark hair, almost black and on an occasion or two I thought it was dyed that color but I'm not sure, and he wore it longish...not below his shoulders long but a little over the collar long, and it was a little oily, kind of like he treated it with something. It wasn't unpleasant to look at though. He was fair skinned but not like Dracula or anything, it just looked like he was an indoors kind of guy. He wore black clothing most of the time until one day he came in wearing a teal shirt...a T-shirt I think...and I thought, "Hmmmm" only 'cause it was different. He wore a black bracelet, probably one of those rubber things with the sayings on them that everyone wears now or a strap of leather on his left wrist. And he never smiled.

He looked like a loner. He didn't appear to be unhappy, just.....alone. And he always had a book. They weren't those little flimsy things either. They weren't text books and they weren't self help, how-to, or appear to be instructional. They were novels. Usually big thick novels. He apparently loved to read. I was intrigued by that.

Each time he would come to the restaurant, I would watch him out of the corner of my eye....No...I'm not a stalker....and decided to give him a name. A name that would fit his uniqueness and his mystery so he became Horace Greenly. I would wonder about his life and if he had a girlfriend and what his parents were like. I wondered if he was a student at an area college or if he was an employee at one of the surrounding businesses. I wondered what kind of car he drove and was he a safe driver and I wondered if he was spiritual.

I wondered why he was alone.

Sometimes it was sad to see him sitting there all by himself reading his book and eating tacos. But he seemed content and that was good. I just hope he is content in his life and I hope he is spiritual. I pray he knows Jesus and that if he doesn't he will soon. I hope he loves his mom and that he has a big happy family with a kid sister and a dog.

The restaurant closed and I don't see Horace anymore. I don't know if he found another regular place to have his lunch but I hope so. At least in his aloneness he is getting out there. And he must have enough money not to have to "brown bag" it so I'll stop being a mom...concerned that he's doing well. Heck, who knows, he might be the next Bill Gates or Donald Trump. I might read about him in the newspaper after he has made another million bucks or invented a new gadget. He might be a prince or even a telephone solicitor, a medical student or an ax murderer, a lonely young Mensa member or just Joe Shmoe the office geek....it doesn't matter. I just know that from time to time I'll wonder...

"what ever happened to Horace Greenly?"

1953...

If I had to pick a favorite year in the history of the United States that year would be 1953. Many interesting things happened that year; a queen was crowned...Queen Elizabeth the II, a new President took office...Dwight D. Eisenhower, and John and Jackie Kennedy got married on September 12th.

Scientists were busy then too, investigations into DNA were in infancy and the DNA molecule was described at a double helix. The average income was $4,011 a year and with that income you could buy a new house for about $9,525...a new car for $1,651....gas for your new car at $.20 a gallon...and pick up a $.16 loaf of bread, in your new car, going home to your new house after earning your minimum wage of $.75 an hour.

There was the police action in Korea....and you could go to the movies to see "Gentlemen Prefer Blonds", "Shane", and "From Here To Eternity".

But the most significant thing that happened that year was the birth of a baby. A boy baby to be exact. He was the third son born to that family and he was a little doll.

His parents taught him to be frugal, kind, intelligent, hard working, and loyal. He learned to appreciate music, reading, and how to treat a woman. But above all this, he learned about God. He had a strong Christian family who attended church regularly and prayed always, his mom praying most of all.

He grew into a fine young man with a strong work ethic and a dry humor that catches even me off guard. He has quite an imagination but you have to look for it a little bit, coax it out, but it's there right under the surface surrounded by the intellect that keeps people guessing.

The thing that I am in total awe of is that God, in His infinite wisdom, created this man and He had me in mind. You see, we are a perfect fit. The yin and yang so to speak. We go together like chips and salsa. To quote a sloth ice age II not tom cruise he "completes me".

He is strong, brave, humble and he is my hero. He makes me feel safe in this not-so-safe world and I am treated like a queen. Now I'm not saying this in mocking terms or to make one think that I expect to be treated that way, I saying it because it is true and I am amazed by it. He is not extravagantly spending money on me all the time well..mostly not and taking me to five star restaurants or on glamorous vacations...he is treating me like a lady. He holds doors for me, carries heavy things for me, works a job he really doesn't like for me and he listens to me. He tells me many times a day that he loves me and he often tells me he appreciates me and all that I do. He tells me I'm beautiful even when I'm at my worst and he takes time to be with me.

I think to myself, "how do I deserve this man?" And I thank God for the honor and blessing He gave in giving me to this gentle husband...the love of my life and the sweetner of my days.

Yes, 1953 was a very good year.
July 30th, 1953 was a very good day.
All leading up to this very good life.

Wind

Have you ever thought about wind? Have you ever taken the time to sit and enjoy the feel of it? Tried to discern the temperature of it? the direction of it?

Have you ever thought about where it comes from? Does it come from the rotation of the Earth? Are we spinning fast enough to kick up a little breeze as we whirl around in space? Is it caused by the ocean tides coming and going or the waves that splash on the shores? Rain brings wind...if you've ever sat outside and waited for rain to come, the wind always comes first. Does water cause wind? It seems that wind and rain are always together, doesn't it? Why? Why does it go hand in hand? Is that how it's meant to be?

Have you felt a cold wind? a hot wind? an in between wind? Have you noticed? Have you ever felt the abrasiveness of wind when it blows sand on the beach? or a sand trap on the golf course? Have you ever chased a hat or a piece of paper or an umbrella that has been stolen by the wind? Can you run that fast?

Have you ever flown a kite? Did your kite float toward heaven effortlessly or did you have to run? Have you ever found the perfect kite flying day where you could just stand there and let your kite go and it would fly for you? Have you noticed that when there is no wind your kite can't soar?

Have you seen how the trees bend to the wind? The leaves turn upside down for the wind? Do you notice the sticks and debris all over the yard after a good wind? Is the wind cleaning house?

When you sit outside late at night with only the wind for company does it comfort you? Chill you? Envelop you? Does it make you want to go inside? Do you feel its caress?

Wind.

The breath of God.

Touching
Moving
Warming
Chilling
Invigorating
Caressing

Can you feel it?

Breathe on me, breath of God...

Enjoy the show....

The kids and I went on an adventure the other day. We were going to the "Free Movie Wednesday" at Easton. We wanted to see "Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End" and seeing it free was even better.

We all got up early, leaving at 9:00 to get there in plenty of time to visit the concession stand who eats that stuff at 9:30 in the morning? get good seats and have a great time. We had no problem with crowds because we were almost the first ones there great planning i think and went directly to the ticket counter. I told the young lady she really didn't want to be there, I think she would rather had been sleeping at home or someplace I wanted tickets for four kids and one adult. She didn't even smile at me but punched a bunch of numbers on her little computer thingy and announced that it would be $28.50! "Um..." I said, "I thought this was Free Movie Wednesday"! She looked at me with her little borg microphoned face and said..."That's only for 'Flushed Away'."

Wow....I had four kids who had been anticipating this movie for a week, a little puppy romance involved and secretly didn't want to go into a theater with 16,000 screaming toddlers! I did ask them if they would like to see 'Flushed Away' but they all said, in that whiny pleading voice...."NO, PIRATES!" Needless to say, I paid the girl the $28.50 as I thought to myself, "This was supposed to be free!"

We went up to the concession stand and Devon took out his wad of cash; thank God I made him leave the bulk of it at home i didn't know crushing cans could be so lucrative and he proceeded to purchase candy for the three girls at $4.00 a pop and a bottled water for me wasn't that sweet and some nachos for himself. Haley bought slushies, a smaller one for Dev and a large one for the three girls to share. After they had made their purchases we began the long trek to the back theater down a long concourse...it kind of reminded me of an airport concourse....,we were at gate eight. As I walked along, I thought I would check the tickets because I wanted to be sure we were on time and I discovered that the movie didn't even start until 1:10 that AFTERNOON!! Sleepy the Ticket Girl had neglected to tell me that part. My brisk pace got slower and slower as I looked incredulously at the ticket time. What in the WORLD was I going to do with four kids at Easton for the next four hours after they had eaten all of that sugar???

I explained to the kids what was happening and told them to sit on the bench just outside of the theater and wait for me. They obediently did so. I hurried toward the concession stand in search of.......well, what...I didn't know. There, looming in the popcorn popper haze was a young man did they teach movie theater management in kindergarten? who looked fairly official i imagined him waiting to blow a bubble with his bubble gum taking tickets by the elevator as the toddler set poured in from all directions.

I walked up to him and asked..."Are you the man?" I swear he got a little bit taller and his chest puffed out a little bit bigger and he said with a little hesitation...."Yes" eyeing me as if to say, "What ever it is I can handle it." I began to explain my situation to him. I told him it was a misunderstanding on my part and that I purchased the tickets and that it was no problem because I misunderstood but now I had all these kids and was there ANY way he could play the movie now.

Understand now, the whole time I was trying to explain my plight, there were mommies and daddies pouring out of the elevator with strollers and toddlers and all their stuff...handing tickets to Doogie the Theater Manager in an effort to see 'Flushed Away' but he handled it better than I did....too...many...people....in...my....vicinity..... and replied to me "Ma'am, Pirates is a three hour movie and I'm not sure we can play it now and have it ready for it's regular showing time." It didn't look good but he got on his little walkie-talkie thing and spoke to a voice asking if the voice thought they could run 'Pirates' and finish in time for the next showing. The voice said yes, they could run it. Doogie the Theater Manager asked me if I could be in the theater in five minutes and I said "I sure can!" to which he replied....

"Enjoy the show..."

I thanked him and blessed him and...well...gushed thanks all over the place as I literally ran yes i can run to movie theater eight. I yelled to the kids, who were sitting nicely on the bench to go in and get seats. WE HAVE A PRIVATE VIEWING!

I was so excited and thankful. I got to see almost all of the movie this time, filling in parts I missed last week and enjoyed it immensely! i will certainly add this to my collection as soon as it comes out...it's a two thumbs up kind of movie...

As the beginning trailers started I thanked God for this blessing. What if Doogie the Theater Manager had treated us like Sleepy the Ticket Girl? What if he didn't think he needed to be there? What if he didn't want to take the time to speak with me? We would have had to see the show later that day but he would have missed a blessing. He was NICE. A rarity in today's world.

I'm not going to try that again. I mean after all, that was a gift. But I do want to say "Thank you Doogie! Thank you for restoring my faith in mankind...." Knowing that there are still young people out there who care makes it easier to handle all the Sleepy the Ticket Girls who come in between....

So I think I'll relax, sip a slushie....and enjoy the show!

Superglue...

There are a lot of adhesives out there for which to fix things. There are the usuals; Elmer's Glue, Gorilla Glue, pastes, glue sticks, sticky dots, tape, duct tape and super glue. That of course is not a comprehensive list. More of a topical list. And you can choose just about any of them to fix, adhere or mend just about anything. Each one of them has a specific purpose and can be used in a pinch for many things if necessary, but in its intended use it is unbeatable.

I've broken many things in my life and have probably used at least one of these items to mend the broken piece, sometimes successfully and sometimes not. Say for instance I have a special coffee mug that crashed and now the handle needs to be glued on. You find each of the broken pieces, fit them together and hope the glue will hold. Usually it does but if you will notice, along the cracks of the break there are little scarred places where bits of ceramic have broken off that are to small to re-glue. The glue seeps into those little places and it holds. It leaves little dinks in the handle so that its not perfect but it is mended...still usable but damaged none the less.

There is one thing I own that has been broken many many times. Sometimes I wonder if it can survive another crash or if the glue will hold a little longer. It has been broken several times since I was a little girl but it still works and amazingly it seems stronger but there is a part of me that wants to protect it. I don't want it to break again but I know it will. And I can't put it on a shelf and not use it...hoping not to break it...because then I would miss it...I don't want to break my....

heart.

We can be broken hearted as children over lost toys or dying pets, mommy or daddy going to work or friends "not sharing". Sometimes, as we grow, our friends say and do things that upset us or we can't afford the video game we long for. Perhaps we "fall in luv" that puppy love thing only to find out ten minutes later that our new interest is interested in someone else. 'Tweenie hearts are especially fragile. Then as we get older and more mature, our hearts are broken by our spouses, children and grandchildren often through no fault of their own.

My heart is broken.

How do I, as a mature Christian woman...wife...mother...grandmother...friend...daughter...aunt...sister-in-law...daughter-in-law...sister...neighbor...mentor, lead the way? How do I set an example or guide them, or teach them or watch over them without causing them pain? How do I show them that some their actions are hurtful to others without hurting them? How do I discern who is "right" and who is "wrong" without loosing them? Do I let them go and just make sure they don't kill each other? Do I let them to their own devices and hope they find the right path? After all, we have taught them the basics, that's all they need right? Do I "stay the course" or do I back off?

In my effort to teach the right thing, I broke a heart. Oh, we had a conversation and lots of hugs and I apologized and I was forgiven but how do I not do it again and still teach good morals...teach respect...teach Jesus?

My heart is shattered. I only want what is pure and holy and of good report for them....but I fall way short. I want to give up....no try...leave them alone and just play all the time. I want to be fun...but I'm not...and I can't.

But I do know this...

Jesus is my Superglue. Although I my heart is broken He looks at it with compassion because His has been broken too. He has felt everything I am feeling but on a much grander scale. I have a handful of children...He has the world including me. He holds my heart in His hands. He sees the pieces scattered all over the floor and He picks them up one by one and puts the pieces together. He coats each edge with the glue of His Love and fits it together until it is whole again. And as He looks it over when it is finished, He sees the little dinks and pits...the pieces that will never be found. He is not concerned though because He knows that my heart still works and that it will be stronger for all the scars.

He puts me back in the battle because He knows it's worth it...they are worth it.

My heart will break again but that's okay...it is mendable. I know Jesus is my Super Glue and He will put it back together again with the binding strength of His love.

Rain....

Cool
Crisp
Green
Wet
Nourishing
Refreshing
Calming
Cleansing
Healing
Replenishing

Rain.

No more moving about like automatons in the dust bowl of life. No more hacking away at dried weeds in an effort to beautify the bleak habitation of our lives. No more trying to bust through the concrete earth in an effort to grow. No more self sacrifices in the battle for thirst.

Rain.

Life saving
Hope giving
Spirit lifting
Life changing
Thirst quenching

Filling our souls with life giving water. Individualizing us. Honing us. Strengthening us. Hydrating us. Preparing us. Inspiring us. Anointing us.

Shall we dance in it?
Lift our hands and faces to it?
Feel it?
Taste it?

Rain.

Beautiful
Powerful
Celestial

Rain...a symbol of the Holy Spirit Who gives us all we need to grow.

Holy Spirit rain.

Filling our souls with life giving power. Individualizing us. Honing us. Strengthening us. Hydrating us. Preparing us. Inspiring us. Anointing us.

Shall we dance in it?
Lift our hands and faces to it?
Feel it?
Taste it?

"If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink..." ~Jesus

Are you thirsty?

She's Here!!!

Thirty years ago, in a galaxy far far away, I said those words...."She's here!"

I had just gone through a great deal of waiting, sickness, labor and pain and was given the most beautiful baby girl you would ever lay your eyes on. She was a delightful shade of purple of course she pinked up right away and she was chubby and had dark hair and she was crying. She was the picture of perfection. And I thanked God.

My baby girl.

We named her Elizabeth Anne...a sophisticated name but a strong Biblical name too. I forbade anyone from calling her Liz. Oh, I didn't mind calling her Liza...Liz with a short "a" at the back...but I didn't feel Liz was appropriate. Liz was too strong a name for such a beautiful girl. I was wrong.

My daughter is an amazing young woman. Where I thought she would be meek and demure, she is just the opposite. She is sure of herself, confident and strong. She knows what she wants in life and will seek it out but she puts everyone else ahead of her plans. And little by little she is accomplishing her goals but she is working even harder on maintaining her family and raising her kids. No sacrifice is too much for her.

She came home yesterday after a horrific trip to Washington D.C. It was supposed to be a mother-daughter thing with Jasmine and they were supposed to get to see the sites of the Nation's Capital. But that's not how it turned out. She got sick and Jasmine did things on her own. of course she had supervision But because she has instilled her strength in her daughter, Jasmine did fine and will, I'm sure, have lots of stories to tell me soon.

The wait for her return was like I was giving birth all over again. I was pacing and hurting and fighting worry. My baby girl was so sick, I couldn't get to her quickly and she had to come on her own, in her own time, and through a difficult path. She had to drive home with her little girl, feeling so horrible and just wanting to lay down and sleep. And with each mile, she was closer to doing just that.

When the car pulled around the corner and we saw them, a rush of relief surged through my body. Jasmine's friends help up a congratulatory banner they had made for her and we were clapping and hollering when they pulled up but my thought was to get to my baby. I wanted to hold her and kiss her and tell her how much I loved her. I needed to let her know that she was safe and that I would take care of her and help her to feel better. I wanted her to lay down and rest, just for a minute.

This time, after our long labor for her arrival, she was an awful shade of green but she will pink up soon and she was almost crying but still the picture of perfection. I hugged her tight and told her she was going to be alright. I would take care of her and that I had missed her and that I loved her so much. And I do.

She's here!
She's home!
She's safe!

and soon she will be well...and I thank God.

And I can't even help...

My girls are scattered all over the eastern sea board.

Lori and her mom Sue, took Chloe and Mikeala to Myrtle Beach and from Lori's blog, they're having a blast. They are riding boogie boards and jumping on trampolines and playing in the sand and....well...having a blast! They are safe and they are contented.

Liz left with Jasmine yesterday to go to Washington DC. Jasmine (Jazz) won a poster contest for the Tar Wars non-smoking campaign and is representing the great state of Ohio. They are at the National Championship meeting with the thirty-nine other winners from the rest of the US. They are going to have a parade of winners today at noon and a fancy banquet tonight along with many site-seeing activities planned throughout today and tomorrow. They are both excited and if Jazz wins this National Contest, she will win an all expense paid trip for herself and her family to Disney World.

Jazz is worried that we will all be disappointed if she doesn't win. Heck no! We are so proud of her! And we couldn't be more proud of her. Disney World will be there for a long time and if she doesn't win, then we will go some other time. No big deal!!!!

But here's the rub....

Liz called early this morning and she is sick. She has the whole intestinal thing going on with the vomiting and the other stuff. She is alone with Jazz in a strange city hundreds of miles from her doctor that would be me and is miserable. I can't bop over there and bring her some Gatorade or Popsicles i'm beginning to think i have a Popsicle fetish or minty-gum or any other holistic or regular medicine. I can't offer to watch Jazz so Liz can sleep and I can't even offer to take Jazz to all of her stuff so Liz can recuperate. I mean, I could but I would have had to leave yesterday.

She may have a case of the nerves....a bit of a bug....ate something that didn't agree with her...I don't know. But I feel so sorry for her. I know when I get the tummy thing I just want to curl up in the middle of my bed and die. I told her to call the hotel front desk, i mean this is our nations capital and she is in a Holiday Inn and she is the mother of the Ohio representative she should be able to get some help from the hotel, don't you think? I also spoke with Jazz and told her to help her mom today and to make sure she drinks a lot of fluids.

I feel so helpless. I do know one thing though. She is in the best hands ever. I know that God is watching over the two of them and that she is healthy, healed and whole. It is through His power that we are all healed and He has healed her. And it gives me comfort to know that.

So we're praying for our Liz and the rest of our girls. By Wednesday they will all be safely back in the fold, then I can bop over any time they need me and wouldn't have had to leave yesterday.

He Can Say...."I Did It!.....

Jasmine, Devon and I took a break from the pool and went to COSI yesterday. It was crowded but not too crowded. Several "camps" were there, each one wearing a color coded tee shirt so they could be readily found and of course us grandparents and some families.

It was pretty cool there, not only in temperature but in sites and activities. Of course turning Jasmine and Devon loose in COSI is like unleashing a tornado and off they went. I had to say several times....."NO RUNNING!" because I wanted to be conscientious of the other visitors but also because I couldn't keep up. They did really well and we visited each display for a little bit, enjoying the "hands on" fun.

We made animated projects in the Cartoon Network exhibit, played in the water at the Ocean's exhibit, traveled back in time in the Progress exhibit my favorite and I think Jasmine's too, they experienced the inside of a mini-submarine i didn't care to experience the claustrophobia I explained about the petrified babies in the Life exhibit, it was sad, i recall how sad i was when i was a kid looking at those babies. i'm just happy their little souls are in heaven and we went to outer space in the Space exhibit. They each sat on a shuttle toilet and thought that was a hoot. And we had fun in the Gadget's exhibit. LOTS of activity.

We they had lunch at the Atomic Cafe, personal pan pizza's from Pizza Hut and Capri Sun and then we headed to the outside. There was a Big Machine exhibit filled with forklifts, bulldozers, back hoes, tunnel diggers, cranes, and all sorts of other construction machinery. We each got a cool "hard hat" and Jazz and I added Bob the Builder stickers to ours. i'll give mine to william But it interested me that Devon wasn't as enthused about the machines as he was the geese and the Scioto River. We wandered down to the edge and sat on the concrete steps and just watched. We relaxed a little bit while Devon tried to get closer to one goose in particular. Only until Jazz said, "I'll be it thinks you have a rock..." long story, maybe i'll blog about that some day that he gave up and we headed in to go to Big Science Park.

There were all kinds of things to do there. The whole "cause and effect" thing. I had fun watching the other children, little children, enjoy the activities because I was waiting.....I was waiting for my two lunatic kids to get out of the giant centrifuge! I was a little concerned because they all have a bit of motion sickness when we travel but they wanted to do it and who am I to say no? I heard the COSI staff person give the instructions and heard the door slam and LOCK and then I saw the barrel begin to turn. Faster and faster it spun and I heard them scream isn't it funny how we can tell our own kids scream from other kids? There was a loud "BANG" that's when the bottom dropped out more screams and then it began to stop. I was relieved but wondered if either of the were sick.

They came flying down the stairs, grinning from ear to ear and begging me to let them do it again. I did. While I waited a very sweet elderly guy came up and chatted for a minute. He asked me if I had had my honey today. I said "um....no" and he grinned and handed me a Bit-O-Honey candy. I wonder if that's how he attracted his wife? When the kids came out they wanted to do it again and I said "NO!" They begged but I very loudly said "I want to go home now!!!" All of the adults in hearing range laughed.

But the thing that amazed me was Devon. He decided to go on the High-wire unicycle. i know, i was in shock too He stood in line for about 30 to 45 minutes, waiting patiently to be strapped onto a unicycle that would take him out over the main floor at a height that made me dizzy just to think about. I didn't think he would do it. I thought he would get up there and back down....

He was second to next in line and the boy ahead of him was barefoot. Against the rules...but Devon slipped off his shoes and loaned them to the boy! How cool was that? of course that boy's mom is going to wonder what died in her car on the way home But after that boy was done, Dev threw on his shoes and climbed aboard the unicycle. He was given all of the instructions, strapped in the seat and the doors opened. I held my breath as they gave him a little shove and he peddled backward through the doors and out over the floor. He made it about half way and then came back. He used all his muscles to get back through the doors.

He had done it!

We congratulated him when he came out with hugs and words. He said he was about to pee himself he was so scared. But HE DID IT!!!

Way to go Devon!!!

They overcame claustrophobia, fear of the dark, and lots of people in one place okay, that was me but they had a great time. And on the way out, they ate Dippin' Dots....I don't know, some space age ice cream that looks like little tiny balls of...well...ice cream, cost space age prices too but they loved it.

I don't know what adventures we will take next or how many of my grandbabies I will have with me but I will tell you that they sure keep you young!

Thanks for going to COSI with me guys, you did a great job and I had a blast!!

UGGG!!!! EEEWWWWW!!!! OMG!!!!!!

My swimming pool area is my Eden. I can go there anytime I feel stressed and relax in my new almost finished cabana and either watch the kids swim and play or read a book often both or read my paper. I watch the birds and at about 9:30 or so start looking for the bat. "My" bat comes to fly around just above the surface of the water to eat the mosquitoes and other bugs hanging out there. He/she is a cool little bat and if you aren't watching closely you miss it. It's a really fast little critter!

I get a kick out of watching the squirrels do their high-wire act and the birds singing to each other every evening. The blue jays screech at everybody and it can be annoying but they usually settle down quickly and it's harmony all over again.

My Mimosa trees are in bloom and let me tell ya, if you love unusual trees and/or plants, this one is for you. Essentially it is a tree that consists of large palm-like fronds and pretty pink blossoms that look like the blossoms of a Truffala Tree Dr. Seuss's book The Lorax and the scent of those blooms is intoxicating! I have lots of Mimosa starts in my yard, want some?

I still have a lot of work to do in my Eden but it will get there in time. Meanwhile, I sit on the pool deck in my cabana and watch, read, rest and learn.

Last night while I was there preparing for the rain.....you know, the rain we were supposed to get that was supposed to get heavier through the night, that rain that would help the grass...I folded numerous beach towels and put them in the towel bin on the deck and I made sure that all of the toys were stored and that the cool lighted palm tree was pulled away from the pool so it wouldn't fall in during all of that rain. I was just potsing around picking up after kids and enjoying "Bat" and listening to the birds tell each other good night when I went to the far end of the deck to throw away some trash......

UGGGGG!!!!! EEEWWWWWWW!!!!!! OMG!!!!!! ICK!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAH!!!!!!

My feet i never wear shoes in the summer if i can help it had minds of their own and curled into tight little fists, one foot on top of the other as I backed up and then stretched to throw out my trash. I backed up again and started to jump up and down and pound my chest to keep my heart going! 'Skeeter looked at me as if to say "What the HECK are you doing? What's wrong with you? Should I bark hysterically or run for my life? But first I'll sit here and scratch a minute." i think he is used to me making sudden ridiculous movements I was jolted out of my wits and I ran as fast as you can run if your feet are balled up into fists back to the safety of my cabana.

Now mind you it is almost after dark so my eyes were glued to the trash can far across the deck. I didn't want IT to sneak up on me.....to devour me.....to EEEEEKKKKK....slide it's tail across my toes!!!!! by now my kids are rofl because they know what's coming next To my horror... sitting next to the trash can.....just inches from my hand.....and too near my feet.....was an.......dare I say it????? OPOSSUM REX!! It was huge! about two pounds soaking wet and it had a tail about six inches stretched out and large pointed teeth covered in slimy spit i didn't see them because his back was to me as it sauntered off but i know they were there and it wanted to bite me OR WORSE! but i think it wanted it's momma more. I was tingling from the tips of my balled up toes to the top of my head...the kind of tingling you get when you are totally FREAKED OUT.

"Bat" wasn't going to save me, 'Skeeter was busy obsessing over the floating duck in the pool and Dave was doing Dave things in the house so it was just me and Opossum Rex, sitting on the pool deck, in the dark, waiting.........

Actually, I think that baby opossum was thinking to its self, "UGGGGG, EEWWWWW, ICK! What was THAT thing. It sure makes weird noises, and how does it possibly walk around with it's feet balled up like that? I think I'll go on home to momma."

My Eden is still my Eden. I'll go there to relax, rest, read, listen and WATCH....because after all....you never know when Opossum Rex may attack!

It's Like Herdin' Cats.....

Have you ever tried to hold a cup of water in your hand without the cup?

How about....dumping a bag of marbles on a flat table without them running off, or leaving a Popsicle out in the sun and wanting it to stay frozen, or trying to catch the water from Niagara Falls in a bucket.

Did you ever try to herd cats?

It can't be done.

I am a momma hen. I like all of my little chicks to stay in the coop with me, under my wings, so I can love them and protect them and provide for them. I want to make them happy and help them along their path in life. I want to make sure they are safe. But I can't.

In the week to come, several of my loved ones will be traveling. They will be out from under my wings, soaring for themselves, to see what they can see. I am happy for them but...

Alex is on her way home to Georgia. Traveling with her mom and baby sister...she is heading away from me. I've gotten used to it and look forward to her visit when-ever that will be. In the meantime, we have e-mails and stuff to keep in touch.

Lori, Chloe and Mikeala are on their way to Myrtle Beach with Lori's mom, Sue for a fun-filled week on the beach. Hooray! that's me being excited for them but.....this is Mikeala's first time away from the nest....for a week....

Liz and Jasmine are leaving on Sunday for Washington D.C. where Jasmine will represent Devonshire Project Adventure school with her state winning poster entitled "Tobacco Free You And Me". She is entering the National contest and could win a trip to Disney World. I'm happy for her and very proud. She will have three days of fun looking at the Nation's Capital and sight seeing and going to a banquet and perhaps seeing the Senate and will also to have three days of mommy and Jasmine time. Her mom drove through a hurricane once, when she was seventeen, by herself...in a pickup truck. I know they will be okay.

Even Catherine my niece is leaving for a week at camp on Sunday.

So I'll hang out with the boys, Devon and Will and their dads. I'll keep the home fires burning. And I will pray. I know the One who can and does keep our loved ones in His care. Although I can't see them or hold them or protect them, He can. He knows exactly where they are and what they are doing and He will hold them in the palm of His hand. He has sent His Guardian Angels to watch over them and protect them. And the best thing is, He can watch over me too. He gives me comfort when I fret over my chicks and helps me to understand the He loves them even more than I do. And I am thankful.

We can't herd cats but Jesus can.
Let's watch!

Sweet Little Way-back Machine....

I took a little travel in time the other day. Back to 1961 or '62...I can't really remember the exact year. I only remember the apricots and birds.

My grandmother Margaret lived in California and had an apricot tree in her back yard. She also had a fig tree and an aviary filled with beautiful birds. Her aviary was built on the side of her house and wasn't anything real elaborate but it was fascinating for a little girl. She showed me how to eat a fig and that apricots were sweet but that is about all I remember except for seeing my cousins that week and my aunts and uncles. I was very young but I will never forget that visit.

We were all there as I remember, my family, Mom Dad and my sister Sabrina, but I don't remember if my little sister Nancy was there or not. If she was, she was an infant. My aunt Esther, my uncle Jim and his wife Betty, and my cousins, I think both of them were named Mike. It seems like there were other cousins there too and other people but I don't remember who they were. We had a picnic outside under the fig trees next to the aviary and someone took a picture. And we all had a great time.

That visit ended tragically though. It makes the memory bittersweet. After we got home and this is just from childhood memory so the recollection may be off somewhat we got the call. My Uncle Jim's family were in a car accident and Uncle Jim and little Mikey were killed. My Aunt Betty was severely injured and was on crutches to help her walk for the rest of her life........

I buy six apricots every season just for me i will share though if someone wants to taste California although I'm not sure why, and when I get them home I look at them with their slightly blushing little red cheeks and I feel their soft fuzzy skin and I smell their sweet fragrance as I finally prepare to taste each small perfect orb. And they taste so sweet but a slightly bitter at the same time. It's almost as if the sweet-bitter taste is a trigger to remember because they seem to be a miniature time capsule zipping me back to the apricot trees, the birds and, for that moment, happier times.

I live in the DMZ.........

The Fourth of July.
I look forward to it and yet....I don't.
You see, we live in a neighborhood that thinks any time is a great time to set off fireworks. Now I'm not talking about sparklers or "poppers" or smoke bombs or even firecrackers. I'm talking about those big ones that go "FOOOM"...........silence at it reaches its zenith......."BOOOOM crackle crackle" with all the lights in the sky. They light up the whole night and then there is the heinous laughter that follows each explosion....or am I channeling Adam from Mythbusters. And this goes on and on and on into the night, well after midnight most times.

Dave gets mad and well, so do I. But not because of the fireworks. To each his own I guess. It's the fact that there is no respect for the other neighbors who may have to work the next day. What about the elderly and the babies who can't speak for themselves. What about their sleep?...no i'm not talking about dave and i... The police can't take care of it because there are to many fireworks-law-breakers and besides that they are too busy chasing down the bad guys.

The problem with fireworks though is how do you distinguish the fireworks from the actual gun fire?...we do have lots of that around here sometimes... I can hear the police now as they go door to door investigating a shooting......"Ma'am did you see or hear anything around mid-night last evening....did you hear gun shots? Hear heinous laughter? Anything like that?"
"Of COURSE I did. I hear it all the time!!! Why is a crazed Mythbuster running amok in my neighborhood? "
"Um...no ma'am."

See what I mean?
I'm grateful though that we have a free country where folks can light fireworks and get a bang out of it. I'm thankful for the whole Declaration of Independence boys. That took a lot of chutzpah!

And speaking about chutzpah, Liz and I went to the parade at Westerville with Jasmine and Mikeala devon didn't want to go an is probably regretting it now and the girls carried off about ten pounds of candy! A piece! They would just run out into the street and get it! and I was thinking "who's kids ARE those anyway?"

The fireworks that night were fun. It's a tradition that I am so happy my kids are continuing. Every year we go to St. Ann's hospital and watch the fireworks from their parking lot. It is such a blast...no pun intended. The little ones ran around popping "poppers" and lighting sparklers and stuff and William repeatedly said, "And now we return to the Red White and Blue marathon!" I wonder if he was tired of all the festivities?

The neighborhood is quiet now. At least until the next holiday. That might be the "First Saturday In July And We Have Extra Fireworks" holiday. We'll see.
I just hope a crazed Mythbuster doesn't laugh heinously at each explosion.
That's creepy.