Ain't no sunshine when they're gone...
It's not warm when they're away...
Ain't no sunshine when they're gone, and they're always gone to long anytime when they go away.
There's no laughter in the yard...
I can't hear them, and it's hard...
There's no laughter in the yard, and my heart is sad and scarred, every time when they go away.
Got no splashing in the pool...
I wander 'round like I'm a fool...
Got no splashing in the pool, 'cause it's time to go to school,
yellow bus takes them away.
And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,I know, I know, I know, I know, I know...
Yeah, there's a lot that they must know, but I am prayin' for some snow...
Maybe then, they'll come to play.
Then the dark will go away...
Ain't no sunshine when they're gone, and they're always gone to long anytime when they go away...
anytime when they go away...
anytime when they go away...
anytime when they go away.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Random...
The kids have started saying a one word sentence that I think describes my life. Actually, when I think about it, it pretty much sums up all of our lives. Some of us are more structured than others but for the most part we are...random.
Random thinking is where you can sit and think for thirty minutes and a hundred things come to mind. Kind of like watching Sesame Street. Now I know that many of you haven't watched Sesame Street for quite some time, but you remember the fast paced, color filled, sound enhanced blur of lessons that were packed into one hour. Ernie was always outsmarting Burt (or is that Bert) and Big Bird's friend Mr. Snuffalupagus was a huge as an elephant but was never seen by anyone other than Big Bird. Kind of makes you wonder what kind of drugs ol' Bird was takin'. But life is kind of like that.
Summer especially.
Anyone have a truly quiet, peaceful time this summer? Any down time? I didn't think so. It seems like we rush here or rush there or have invitation to rush here and rush there. Even staying home with the kids is a frantic pace. You just get things cleaned up from lunch and they start yelling for a snack. "We're hungry!!" they say and you haven't even felt your butt on your chair before they are wanting something else. Then the flowers need watered and the dogs need fed and the next thing you know it's time for dinner and you start the whole process again. By the time you are ready to hit the sack...I wonder why they say "hit the sack"?...you are dead tired and hope to sleep soundly until the dogs wake you up in the middle of the night barking insanely at something...or someone...in the back yards.
Random...
We tease my dog, Precious, (who is blond by the way...and I'm not making fun of blonds so don't write me nasty notes about blond abuse because I'm very fond of blonds...we have several in our family...so this ain't about that) who will be playing with 'Skeeter or just running around the yard and will literally trip over her own feet when a butterfly flitters by. The old "Oh look! A butterfly!" trick. Talk about ADD!
Anyway...I wonder why people spit. Is it 'cause they have a horrible taste in their mouth and are afraid to swallow it? Is it 'cause they have just eaten and their stomachs are too full to handle one more swallow of anything? Is it 'cause they want to share their DNA with everyone in the world? Is it 'cause they think it looks cool? Yuck.
Do you wonder where people are going when an airplane flies over head? What does woof woof arf woof bark mean? Does a cat like licking itself? Does an amoeba ever want to stay within the lines?
I think I would like to have one of those miniature focusizers. A real one. I could keep him in my pocket and have him tell me all about appointments and stuff I needed to do and...do they really come in four different colors? Why are kids the only ones who get to have one...oh wait, I did see where there was a grown-up who had one in his office. I think I would like a pink one...
I need the Dog Whisperer to visit my house before I go stark raving mad. Or as Sharon Osborne would say...barking mad.
Speaking of busy summers...did anyone get to the exhibit at the Franklin Park Conservatory? I've always wanted to go. Never have been there. It's a pity too. I've always wanted to say...
Ever think about this? Devon says he loves the sound a pair of scissors...(I wonder why they call it a pair?) makes when it (they?) slice into a brand new sheet of construction paper. And did you know that Sasquatches (maybe that should be Sasquatchi for the plural) can run really fast, even when they carry their young on their backs?
Oh well...I guess I've used up my randomness for the moment. It's pretty bad when a person resorts to Sasquatches. They are one of my favorite myths though. I wonder who thought up the word Myth...probably the same guy that thought up mythology. Hmmm....Myths...Myth Busters...What if they took their name to a higher plain and called themselves the Mythology Terminators...they could shorten it again and call themselves the "Mythinators". They couldn't use the "Terminology's" 'cause they would have to be constantly using terminology to explain their name!
Meanwhile...
oh look, a butterfly!
Random thinking is where you can sit and think for thirty minutes and a hundred things come to mind. Kind of like watching Sesame Street. Now I know that many of you haven't watched Sesame Street for quite some time, but you remember the fast paced, color filled, sound enhanced blur of lessons that were packed into one hour. Ernie was always outsmarting Burt (or is that Bert) and Big Bird's friend Mr. Snuffalupagus was a huge as an elephant but was never seen by anyone other than Big Bird. Kind of makes you wonder what kind of drugs ol' Bird was takin'. But life is kind of like that.
Summer especially.
Anyone have a truly quiet, peaceful time this summer? Any down time? I didn't think so. It seems like we rush here or rush there or have invitation to rush here and rush there. Even staying home with the kids is a frantic pace. You just get things cleaned up from lunch and they start yelling for a snack. "We're hungry!!" they say and you haven't even felt your butt on your chair before they are wanting something else. Then the flowers need watered and the dogs need fed and the next thing you know it's time for dinner and you start the whole process again. By the time you are ready to hit the sack...I wonder why they say "hit the sack"?...you are dead tired and hope to sleep soundly until the dogs wake you up in the middle of the night barking insanely at something...or someone...in the back yards.
Random...
We tease my dog, Precious, (who is blond by the way...and I'm not making fun of blonds so don't write me nasty notes about blond abuse because I'm very fond of blonds...we have several in our family...so this ain't about that) who will be playing with 'Skeeter or just running around the yard and will literally trip over her own feet when a butterfly flitters by. The old "Oh look! A butterfly!" trick. Talk about ADD!
Anyway...I wonder why people spit. Is it 'cause they have a horrible taste in their mouth and are afraid to swallow it? Is it 'cause they have just eaten and their stomachs are too full to handle one more swallow of anything? Is it 'cause they want to share their DNA with everyone in the world? Is it 'cause they think it looks cool? Yuck.
Do you wonder where people are going when an airplane flies over head? What does woof woof arf woof bark mean? Does a cat like licking itself? Does an amoeba ever want to stay within the lines?
I think I would like to have one of those miniature focusizers. A real one. I could keep him in my pocket and have him tell me all about appointments and stuff I needed to do and...do they really come in four different colors? Why are kids the only ones who get to have one...oh wait, I did see where there was a grown-up who had one in his office. I think I would like a pink one...
I need the Dog Whisperer to visit my house before I go stark raving mad. Or as Sharon Osborne would say...barking mad.
Speaking of busy summers...did anyone get to the exhibit at the Franklin Park Conservatory? I've always wanted to go. Never have been there. It's a pity too. I've always wanted to say...
Ever think about this? Devon says he loves the sound a pair of scissors...(I wonder why they call it a pair?) makes when it (they?) slice into a brand new sheet of construction paper. And did you know that Sasquatches (maybe that should be Sasquatchi for the plural) can run really fast, even when they carry their young on their backs?
Oh well...I guess I've used up my randomness for the moment. It's pretty bad when a person resorts to Sasquatches. They are one of my favorite myths though. I wonder who thought up the word Myth...probably the same guy that thought up mythology. Hmmm....Myths...Myth Busters...What if they took their name to a higher plain and called themselves the Mythology Terminators...they could shorten it again and call themselves the "Mythinators". They couldn't use the "Terminology's" 'cause they would have to be constantly using terminology to explain their name!
Meanwhile...
oh look, a butterfly!
Monday, August 4, 2008
Attached...
I'm in trouble.
Big trouble.
You see, I'm am a hopeless romantic. I want everything to be hearts and flowers and all lovey-dovey with life long commitments and a deep, undivided dedication between and boy and a girl. I have experienced the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, (I saw it when I was about thirteen and cried for days) and have felt the sting of lost boyfriends in my life. But I always mentally jump up and down when the boy gets the girl in the end. My favorite holiday is Valentine's day and I have gold hearts painted on the ceiling of my bedroom, and now that I think about it, there is some form of romance in every room of my house. I guess you might say I have dedicated my life to romance and love.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not thinking about the tacky purple and pink kind of love that you adults might imagine. I'm talking about the sweet, unconditional love that comes from two hearts that are forever bound together. I think the term of the day is "soul mates". The whole "You complete me" thing. I have that kind of love and I pray my children do too. When I watch them, it is evident that they are well on their way to that all encompassing, over-the-top heart-to-heart relationship that God has planned for us.
But here is my problem...
I have become extremely attached to a new boy. Now before you gasp and think I've finally lost that last shred of sanity, let me explain.
I saw him at a picnic about a year and a half ago. He was the cutest boy there and let me tell you, there were a lot of boys. He seemed a little shy but had a beautiful smile that just melted my heart and I thought...he would be perfect for her. There was just something about him that intrigued me. I snuck around trying to take his picture...feeling a little bit like a stalker...and did get a few candid shots. And after the picnic I showed her the pictures and she had the innocence to blush. After all, she was sweet on him. She had a crush that she hoped would evolve into something more.
I was sad when I found out later that he had a girlfriend. That he was taken. I wanted him for her. She did what every young girl did and listened to music and had chosen "their" song. And she pined for him...kind of. But at last he was free!!! And the world rejoiced...or was that just my heart leaping? He started to come around...supposedly to swim...he came with friends. And she started to ply the trades of young women every where with her cute little smile and her tendency to blush and batting her beautiful eyelashes...and in no time...they were together, a couple, she had a boyfriend! He comes to see her almost every day and they talk on the phone all the time. She is learning to speak his language...slowly because it's strange to her...and he is learning too. I have watched them grow a little bit this summer and I have become attached.
In my mind I am planning a gorgeous wedding and holding lots of little brown-eyed great-grand babies and speaking fluent Spanish to them and.....
They are only twelve.
Now you see my dilemma?
Puppy Love.
I just can't see them apart. Ever.
I wonder if my mom went through this with my sisters and me? Did she pick out boys for us? I didn't pick out my daughters husband...she did a perfect job for herself. My husband says I should stop being such a Yenta but I love to match-make. Even if it's only in my mind. I think all women do that. But if it's meant to be...God will make a way. Stranger things have happened. I just hope I don't get my heart broken in the process.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Whisssstle....BOOM!....Sizzzzzle.....
I embarrassed myself last night. A couple of times. I didn't mean to but...well let's back up a bit, shall we?
The Fourth of July is a special time for me. My husband asked me to "go steady" thirty-six years ago on the 4th. Isn't it interesting the things we remember?
But on this fourth, I kind of did my own thing. Dave was at a golf outing and all of the kids were doing who knows what and so, the dogs and I just sort of hung out and read and stuff (I read, the dogs looked at the pictures). I was determined I wouldn't clean or work or do any of the stuff I usually do when I am alone. I wanted to relax and do nothing.
I was bored out of my mind.
Finally, evening rolled around and it was time to leave for the fireworks display at St. Ann's hospital. Well, not really AT the hospital but near the hospital. We just use their parking lot to set up "camp". I was looking forward to seeing all of my kids and taking pictures and enjoying the rockets red glare as it were so I grabbed my trusty boom box...an appropriate name don't you think?...for some tunes and the sparklers and poppers and a little bag of no-carb treats for me and put on my sweater...(have you EVER heard of wearing a sweater on the fourth of July to watch fireworks?)...and headed out. I parked in our favorite spot and dared anyone to park in the spaces surrounding my car. After all, those spots were reserved for my kids. I took out the boom-box and got the tunes going and watched people while I waited.
The kids all got there and we had a great time popping poppers and telling jokes and lighting sparklers and looking for Mexican boys...well, two of my grand girls (who are sisters) are "dating" (new term for "going steady") Mexican brothers (and they were supposed to be there). Interesting, huh? I think it is so cool. Anyway, do you realize how many Mexican family's have a bunch of sons? We never did find them though. Too bad, I need a new phrase....they're teaching me to speak Spanish.
When the fireworks were over, I was pretty tired. Doing nothing and being bored out of your mind takes a lot out of you! I wanted to get home and in to my bed and dream great dreams.
It didn't quite work out that way.
We did the whole stop-N-go thing while getting out of the parking lot and I got angry at the traffic control guy because he wouldn't let me go the direction I wanted to go. I didn't say anything to him...my poor daughter got to hear me whine when I called her on her cell. But as we were making out slow way out of the lot, my brakes kept screeching. You see, when they get wet, they make a LOT of noise. My husband says this is normal. Embarrassment number one...some girl yells..."You better get those brakes looked at!" and then someone else yells..."yeah, stop slamming on your brakes like that!" I didn't say anything but put my window up and tried to coast to a stop only pushing a tiny bit on the brake peddle so I wouldn't hear any more wise cracks!
When I got home, I was mauled by my two dogs. They were barking and hopping up and down and I was in no mood for that so I gave them a treat and closed up the house. I was grouchy, tired and antsy all at the same time. I finally got settled at around 11:30. I turned on some soft music and had the fan going more for white noise than anything and was just dozing off when.....WHISTLE....POP...POP POP, BANG....I couldn't believe it. I grumbled, sighed and tried to concentrate on the white noise....let my mind go blank....r e l a x......
B O O M
I got up and looked outside and could see the glowing end of a match touch the end of yet another monster noise maker when FOOSH with a loud whistle it soared into the sky and exploded with a loud BOOM. That was it...I had had enough...embarrassment number two...I stuck my head out my back door and yelled..."COME ON..SERIOUSLY GUYS...IT'S TIME TO GO TO SLEEP."
The fireworks stopped.
It worked. But am I now the neighborhood curmudgeon? The old lady who won't let anyone have fun? I was secretly hoping that there were others in the neighborhood who were cheering me on but I didn't hear a single "yeah, what she said" come from any other house.
Now I wonder what to do. It's the next day and I am so embarrassed to have let my self control down and yell at someone who was just having fun...WITH LOUD EXPLOSIVES RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM WINDOW AT MIDNIGHT....I mean kids will be kids right?
I think I'll go over there and apologize.
The Fourth of July is a special time for me. My husband asked me to "go steady" thirty-six years ago on the 4th. Isn't it interesting the things we remember?
But on this fourth, I kind of did my own thing. Dave was at a golf outing and all of the kids were doing who knows what and so, the dogs and I just sort of hung out and read and stuff (I read, the dogs looked at the pictures). I was determined I wouldn't clean or work or do any of the stuff I usually do when I am alone. I wanted to relax and do nothing.
I was bored out of my mind.
Finally, evening rolled around and it was time to leave for the fireworks display at St. Ann's hospital. Well, not really AT the hospital but near the hospital. We just use their parking lot to set up "camp". I was looking forward to seeing all of my kids and taking pictures and enjoying the rockets red glare as it were so I grabbed my trusty boom box...an appropriate name don't you think?...for some tunes and the sparklers and poppers and a little bag of no-carb treats for me and put on my sweater...(have you EVER heard of wearing a sweater on the fourth of July to watch fireworks?)...and headed out. I parked in our favorite spot and dared anyone to park in the spaces surrounding my car. After all, those spots were reserved for my kids. I took out the boom-box and got the tunes going and watched people while I waited.
The kids all got there and we had a great time popping poppers and telling jokes and lighting sparklers and looking for Mexican boys...well, two of my grand girls (who are sisters) are "dating" (new term for "going steady") Mexican brothers (and they were supposed to be there). Interesting, huh? I think it is so cool. Anyway, do you realize how many Mexican family's have a bunch of sons? We never did find them though. Too bad, I need a new phrase....they're teaching me to speak Spanish.
When the fireworks were over, I was pretty tired. Doing nothing and being bored out of your mind takes a lot out of you! I wanted to get home and in to my bed and dream great dreams.
It didn't quite work out that way.
We did the whole stop-N-go thing while getting out of the parking lot and I got angry at the traffic control guy because he wouldn't let me go the direction I wanted to go. I didn't say anything to him...my poor daughter got to hear me whine when I called her on her cell. But as we were making out slow way out of the lot, my brakes kept screeching. You see, when they get wet, they make a LOT of noise. My husband says this is normal. Embarrassment number one...some girl yells..."You better get those brakes looked at!" and then someone else yells..."yeah, stop slamming on your brakes like that!" I didn't say anything but put my window up and tried to coast to a stop only pushing a tiny bit on the brake peddle so I wouldn't hear any more wise cracks!
When I got home, I was mauled by my two dogs. They were barking and hopping up and down and I was in no mood for that so I gave them a treat and closed up the house. I was grouchy, tired and antsy all at the same time. I finally got settled at around 11:30. I turned on some soft music and had the fan going more for white noise than anything and was just dozing off when.....WHISTLE....POP...POP POP, BANG....I couldn't believe it. I grumbled, sighed and tried to concentrate on the white noise....let my mind go blank....r e l a x......
B O O M
I got up and looked outside and could see the glowing end of a match touch the end of yet another monster noise maker when FOOSH with a loud whistle it soared into the sky and exploded with a loud BOOM. That was it...I had had enough...embarrassment number two...I stuck my head out my back door and yelled..."COME ON..SERIOUSLY GUYS...IT'S TIME TO GO TO SLEEP."
The fireworks stopped.
It worked. But am I now the neighborhood curmudgeon? The old lady who won't let anyone have fun? I was secretly hoping that there were others in the neighborhood who were cheering me on but I didn't hear a single "yeah, what she said" come from any other house.
Now I wonder what to do. It's the next day and I am so embarrassed to have let my self control down and yell at someone who was just having fun...WITH LOUD EXPLOSIVES RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM WINDOW AT MIDNIGHT....I mean kids will be kids right?
I think I'll go over there and apologize.
Friday, June 27, 2008
When It Rains...
it drips on my bed! Okay, admittedly it has been a while since I have written but I've been up to here with...stuff. My brain is sometimes filled with the most intriguing material and the spaces in between with such horrific and mundane thoughts that I can't seem to sort my way out of it and onto the page. I wonder if Steven King started out this way.
At any rate, the recent storms have proven to chase my husband and I out of our bed again. Remember in one of my last posts I told you about the leak and the whole cleaning the cutters thing? Well the other night I was laying there listening to the thunder and the rain and feeling quite cozy. He was sleeping beside me and the dogs were also snoozing in their little beds. All was safe and comfortable and...DRIP...DRIP...DRIP DRIP DRIP.....What the heck???? Cold water was dripping on my face! I reached over and touched my husband and said..."Hun...we have a leak!" I jumped up and grabbed some towels out of the bathroom and he jumped up and headed out of the room to parts unknown. I stood on the bed and held the towel up against the leak (it was coming in through a screw that was holding up the canopy of our bed). Meanwhile, I saw my husband walking down the back deck with an umbrella and a ladder! In a lightening storm! In the pouring rain! At two o'clock in the morning! Crawling into the attic! He was going to find the leak and fix it. He found some flashing (some metal stuff to fix the leak, not the lightening) and headed up.
I really couldn't believe it. I stood there with the towel pressed against the ceiling waiting for him to come back and he did fairly quickly but then said..."the tree out back is on fire." Kind of matter of fact like that. "What?" I shouted? I jumped down off the bed and looked out the back door. Sure enough the high tension wire at the very top of the telephone pole was burning the branches of the tree behind us. I didn't know what to do...I mean here it is two-thirty in the morning, the bed is being dripped on, my husband is in the attic and the tree is on fire! I didn't want to call the fire department and have them come screaming through our neighborhood to wake the neighbors and I didn't want to sound silly that the tree was in fire in the middle of a torrential down pour but I was a little concerned that the tree would go FOOP! and burn to the ground and then were would all the birdies and squirrels and the hawk live? I continued to intermittently dry the drip and hop off the bed to look at the burning tree. It was only smoldering at this point and so I wasn't so worried about it anymore and Dave had come down out of the attic, and the dripping stopped (for the time being) and the dogs just looked at me like I was loony for being up so late. I went back to bed and prayed that the tree would stay out and the dripping wouldn't return.
I called AEP the next morning and they came out to see what the problem was. They told us it was "normal" for the tree to catch fire because of the eleven billion volts that went through that wire (comforting since I have a swimming pool in close proximity)and that it would singe the tree limbs to keep them off. GREAT! I thought. Now I have to think about that too.
We did go back to sleep and all was well...until the next time we had a storm......
We were sleeping as usual, when I heard the wind pick up and the rain start to fall. The lightening was flashing around causing the walls in my room to look like a psycho disco ball was going berserk and the thunder was clashing like plaid pants and a striped shirt. I got up and turned the window fans to "exhaust" to blow the rain out and close the sliding door. I didn't want any rain in. But just as I reached for the handle of the door I heard the sirens. Not firetruck sirens but tornado sirens! I wondered if I was supposed to call my kids and wake them up and send them to their respective basements or to just wait it out. I decided to turn on Jym Ganhal. He would clear this up for me. And he did. He said he didn't know why they were sounding the sirens for Columbus and that was good enough for me. I snuggled back down next to my sleeping husband and listened to the rain, praising God for the gifts He has given us and asking Him to protect us from any prospective danger when....drip...drip drip drip!!!.... CRAP!!!!! I nudge Dave and say..."it's raining on us again." I don't remember what he said this time. I'm sure he was grumbling tho'. I took my stance on the bed with the towel against the ceiling and hoped that the lightening couldn't get to me. Our dogs just looked up from their beds as if they were trying to understand our bizarre behavior when CRASH!!!! thunder cracked so loudly that it seemingly blew them out of their beds and on to their feet. They looked confused and I laughed pretty hard.
Dave went back outside to find the leak and when he came in said he would have to fix it in the morning. I asked him for a bucket and a long piece of string. I tied the string around the screw head in the ceiling where the water was coming in and dropped the other end in the bucket. The water then followed the string down and into the bucket with no splashing which would...hopefully...keep our bed dry. It worked! and Dave fixed the leak the next day. It has rained since and we have been able to stay in our bed without taking a shower too!
Isn't it funny how we get creative in times of adversity? That's God working for us. Who'dve thunk about a string and a bucket? Anyway...'til next time! (and I pray that will be sooner than later) Happy Summer!
At any rate, the recent storms have proven to chase my husband and I out of our bed again. Remember in one of my last posts I told you about the leak and the whole cleaning the cutters thing? Well the other night I was laying there listening to the thunder and the rain and feeling quite cozy. He was sleeping beside me and the dogs were also snoozing in their little beds. All was safe and comfortable and...DRIP...DRIP...DRIP DRIP DRIP.....What the heck???? Cold water was dripping on my face! I reached over and touched my husband and said..."Hun...we have a leak!" I jumped up and grabbed some towels out of the bathroom and he jumped up and headed out of the room to parts unknown. I stood on the bed and held the towel up against the leak (it was coming in through a screw that was holding up the canopy of our bed). Meanwhile, I saw my husband walking down the back deck with an umbrella and a ladder! In a lightening storm! In the pouring rain! At two o'clock in the morning! Crawling into the attic! He was going to find the leak and fix it. He found some flashing (some metal stuff to fix the leak, not the lightening) and headed up.
I really couldn't believe it. I stood there with the towel pressed against the ceiling waiting for him to come back and he did fairly quickly but then said..."the tree out back is on fire." Kind of matter of fact like that. "What?" I shouted? I jumped down off the bed and looked out the back door. Sure enough the high tension wire at the very top of the telephone pole was burning the branches of the tree behind us. I didn't know what to do...I mean here it is two-thirty in the morning, the bed is being dripped on, my husband is in the attic and the tree is on fire! I didn't want to call the fire department and have them come screaming through our neighborhood to wake the neighbors and I didn't want to sound silly that the tree was in fire in the middle of a torrential down pour but I was a little concerned that the tree would go FOOP! and burn to the ground and then were would all the birdies and squirrels and the hawk live? I continued to intermittently dry the drip and hop off the bed to look at the burning tree. It was only smoldering at this point and so I wasn't so worried about it anymore and Dave had come down out of the attic, and the dripping stopped (for the time being) and the dogs just looked at me like I was loony for being up so late. I went back to bed and prayed that the tree would stay out and the dripping wouldn't return.
I called AEP the next morning and they came out to see what the problem was. They told us it was "normal" for the tree to catch fire because of the eleven billion volts that went through that wire (comforting since I have a swimming pool in close proximity)and that it would singe the tree limbs to keep them off. GREAT! I thought. Now I have to think about that too.
We did go back to sleep and all was well...until the next time we had a storm......
We were sleeping as usual, when I heard the wind pick up and the rain start to fall. The lightening was flashing around causing the walls in my room to look like a psycho disco ball was going berserk and the thunder was clashing like plaid pants and a striped shirt. I got up and turned the window fans to "exhaust" to blow the rain out and close the sliding door. I didn't want any rain in. But just as I reached for the handle of the door I heard the sirens. Not firetruck sirens but tornado sirens! I wondered if I was supposed to call my kids and wake them up and send them to their respective basements or to just wait it out. I decided to turn on Jym Ganhal. He would clear this up for me. And he did. He said he didn't know why they were sounding the sirens for Columbus and that was good enough for me. I snuggled back down next to my sleeping husband and listened to the rain, praising God for the gifts He has given us and asking Him to protect us from any prospective danger when....drip...drip drip drip!!!.... CRAP!!!!! I nudge Dave and say..."it's raining on us again." I don't remember what he said this time. I'm sure he was grumbling tho'. I took my stance on the bed with the towel against the ceiling and hoped that the lightening couldn't get to me. Our dogs just looked up from their beds as if they were trying to understand our bizarre behavior when CRASH!!!! thunder cracked so loudly that it seemingly blew them out of their beds and on to their feet. They looked confused and I laughed pretty hard.
Dave went back outside to find the leak and when he came in said he would have to fix it in the morning. I asked him for a bucket and a long piece of string. I tied the string around the screw head in the ceiling where the water was coming in and dropped the other end in the bucket. The water then followed the string down and into the bucket with no splashing which would...hopefully...keep our bed dry. It worked! and Dave fixed the leak the next day. It has rained since and we have been able to stay in our bed without taking a shower too!
Isn't it funny how we get creative in times of adversity? That's God working for us. Who'dve thunk about a string and a bucket? Anyway...'til next time! (and I pray that will be sooner than later) Happy Summer!
Friday, June 6, 2008
Okay...enough about me...
1) The phone rings what do you say? Before or after I pick it up? Um...Hello?
2) Who was your first text from today? Hmmmm....text. I read the text of a book, a newspaper, some blogs...but sadly...I'm textaphobic.
3) Who was the ugliest person you saw today? Now that IS a rude question but I'll answer it. Obama. Not because of his looks but because of his heart.
4) Whats your favorite soda? If I could have any it would be Creme Soda or FRESH A&W root beer in a frosty mug.
5) Does the person you like know that you like them? He sure does!!
6) Whens the last time you talked to your mom? Sunday Morning.
7) Where are you right now? In my office.
8) Favorite song? I have many...probably a hundred. The the one that makes me smile is "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You" by Rod Stewart.
9) Favorite gadget in the kitchen? My juicer
10) Favorite pie? Warm Granny Smith Apple Pie with a nice slice of melted cheddar cheese on top.
11) How many friends you got? It's not quantity it's quality...and I have quality friends!
12) Any complaints? Nah...why complain?
13) Last time you had a sleepover? Hmmmm.....I think it was New Year's Eve....my grandbabies.
14) Latest you stayed up in the past week? Was that counting the water dripping on our bed or the fire? Probably eleven.
15) What are you doing? Listening to my dogs barking their fool heads off at the people attending the garage sales on the street. Poor neighbors.
16) Have you been in a car accident? Yes!
17) What was the last thing you said aloud? 'SKEETER! (shouting at one of my dogs.
18) Who's the 1st person on your missed calls list? Doobs Mueller
19) What did the last text message you received say? Textaphobic remember?
20) Last time you went to church? I prefer to think that I am having church every day.
21) Story behind your MySpace song? I don't have a MySpace song. I am annoyed by MySpace and everything it has going on. It's no place for children either...but that is just my opinion...
22) Do you care if people hate you for no reason? Nope. I'd just rather not know about it.
23) Wallet? Stuffed with plastic.
24) Eyes? Green
25) Life? Amazing!
26) What are you doing this weekend? You don't have enough space for me to type that....
27) What are you wearing? Black shorts and a pink tank top.
28) What are you wanting? Right now...I want to rip up the almost all of the carpet in my home and replace it with nice wood floors. Easier to clean...nicer look and much more sanitary!!!
29) What do you smell? Rain and Tabu
30) What do you taste? Coffee
31) Do you sleep naked? Because I know who MIGHT be reading this I plead the fifth.
32) Do you like seafood? Sometimes
33) Do you remember your dreams? Sometimes
34) Do you consider yourself a study freak? Maybe not a freak but I love to learn.
35) Do you speak another language other than English? Bits and pieces of French, German, Spanish, Dopple, Piglatin, Japanese, and a Turkish word. I want to become fluent in Spanish. Hey JERRY!
36) What did you do last night? Made dinner, watched a little bit of TV (nothing on now), folded beach towels, watered my flowers, made Daves lunch, put chemicals in my....pool, yeah, that's it...swept up a million mulberries and watched the dogs play...among other stuff.
37) Who do you hate? I don't hate anyone. But I do like the bumper sticker that says "I hate mean people".
38) Orange or apple juice? Orange
39) Who were the last people you went out to eat with? My friend Susan.
40) What was the last thing you ate ? Pina Colada Cheesecake with whipped cream and a cup of coffee.
Ok, so now I have to tag someone else.......Lori!
2) Who was your first text from today? Hmmmm....text. I read the text of a book, a newspaper, some blogs...but sadly...I'm textaphobic.
3) Who was the ugliest person you saw today? Now that IS a rude question but I'll answer it. Obama. Not because of his looks but because of his heart.
4) Whats your favorite soda? If I could have any it would be Creme Soda or FRESH A&W root beer in a frosty mug.
5) Does the person you like know that you like them? He sure does!!
6) Whens the last time you talked to your mom? Sunday Morning.
7) Where are you right now? In my office.
8) Favorite song? I have many...probably a hundred. The the one that makes me smile is "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You" by Rod Stewart.
9) Favorite gadget in the kitchen? My juicer
10) Favorite pie? Warm Granny Smith Apple Pie with a nice slice of melted cheddar cheese on top.
11) How many friends you got? It's not quantity it's quality...and I have quality friends!
12) Any complaints? Nah...why complain?
13) Last time you had a sleepover? Hmmmm.....I think it was New Year's Eve....my grandbabies.
14) Latest you stayed up in the past week? Was that counting the water dripping on our bed or the fire? Probably eleven.
15) What are you doing? Listening to my dogs barking their fool heads off at the people attending the garage sales on the street. Poor neighbors.
16) Have you been in a car accident? Yes!
17) What was the last thing you said aloud? 'SKEETER! (shouting at one of my dogs.
18) Who's the 1st person on your missed calls list? Doobs Mueller
19) What did the last text message you received say? Textaphobic remember?
20) Last time you went to church? I prefer to think that I am having church every day.
21) Story behind your MySpace song? I don't have a MySpace song. I am annoyed by MySpace and everything it has going on. It's no place for children either...but that is just my opinion...
22) Do you care if people hate you for no reason? Nope. I'd just rather not know about it.
23) Wallet? Stuffed with plastic.
24) Eyes? Green
25) Life? Amazing!
26) What are you doing this weekend? You don't have enough space for me to type that....
27) What are you wearing? Black shorts and a pink tank top.
28) What are you wanting? Right now...I want to rip up the almost all of the carpet in my home and replace it with nice wood floors. Easier to clean...nicer look and much more sanitary!!!
29) What do you smell? Rain and Tabu
30) What do you taste? Coffee
31) Do you sleep naked? Because I know who MIGHT be reading this I plead the fifth.
32) Do you like seafood? Sometimes
33) Do you remember your dreams? Sometimes
34) Do you consider yourself a study freak? Maybe not a freak but I love to learn.
35) Do you speak another language other than English? Bits and pieces of French, German, Spanish, Dopple, Piglatin, Japanese, and a Turkish word. I want to become fluent in Spanish. Hey JERRY!
36) What did you do last night? Made dinner, watched a little bit of TV (nothing on now), folded beach towels, watered my flowers, made Daves lunch, put chemicals in my....pool, yeah, that's it...swept up a million mulberries and watched the dogs play...among other stuff.
37) Who do you hate? I don't hate anyone. But I do like the bumper sticker that says "I hate mean people".
38) Orange or apple juice? Orange
39) Who were the last people you went out to eat with? My friend Susan.
40) What was the last thing you ate ? Pina Colada Cheesecake with whipped cream and a cup of coffee.
Ok, so now I have to tag someone else.......Lori!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
You've got to laugh...
Puking is NO laughing matter. In fact, it has to be the single most disgusting body function this side of...well...use your imagination. I hate doing it myself...sometimes I think I would rather die...and feel sorry for someone else should they have to do it.
Now, I hope you don't have a really weak stomach because the previous paragraph would turn you off from reading the completion of my story...and if you do and you are puking I'm so sorry. It all started Memorial Day weekend. We were supposed to be having a great time with the onset of "Summer"...it is supposed to be hot now right?...but it wasn't working out quite that way. Two of our girls got sick. I didn't know one of them was and the other had called me to ask me if I could help her if she needed me. I really didn't have time to answer her because she said..."Gotta Go!" and hung up. Well to make a long story even longer, by Sunday those two were fine but the younger ones were in the bull pen heating up. You see, every Sunday we gather...my clan and I...to have church and eat dinner and have a great day of relaxing and playing and socializing. I look forward to it every Sunday. That Sunday though we were...(weak stomach alert)...busy cleaning up puke. We were also checking blood sugars quite frequently and between the two weren't having as much fun. We all took it in stride though...after all we are a fun loving clan and we hang together no matter what. Right?
By Monday morning one was in the emergency room getting re-hydrated because of her diabetes and I was...little did I know...warming up in the bull pen for MY bout with the ferocious stomach virus that was claiming the family.
Oh..my..God! And I am using that term as a prayer. I couldn't believe that my babies had gone through the pain, the nausea, the diarrhea the...well for the sake of you weak stomachers out there I'll stop the description...hell that we were subjected to. It took four days for me to feel like I was alive, much less human. To top it of...my husband got it too. He was home from work for two days. Ladies?? You understand don't you? (No honey, I'm not complaining...we just don't know how to make you more comfortable:) ) I think it's great though that he was able to get out to the Memorial Tournament today though!
So...we were all healing and going through our normal hectic schedules...trying to keep all the ducks in a row and sanitized. It seemed like everything was getting back to normal...what ever that is...when I needed to take the littlest clans member (he's five) with me to pick up his sister at the bus stop. I asked my older granddaughter if she wanted to go too and she did so we piled into my PT Cruiser and headed out. The little one was in the back seat and the 'Tweenie was in the front.
Well...you moms will appreciate this...you know when you hear a tea kettle just begin to whistle and you know it's about to boil? Or you hear that crack of thunder just seconds before you are in the middle of a deluge of rain? Have any of you ever heard this?..."Oh!...My tummy is starting to hurt!!!...along with whimpering and then crying and you are hopeless because you are in rush hour traffic trying to catch a school bus so that your child isn't standing there alone and all of a sudden...My 'Tweenie looked back at the little guy at just the right time and immediately turned back around stating in her Valley Girl talk..."Ugh...that is SO GROSS!"
I didn't have any paper towels, napkins, clothing, rags....NOTHING IN MY CAR TO STAUNCH THE FLOW...and, did I tell you I was in rush hour traffic trying to catch a freakin' bus?
I heard the "my tummy still hurts" about three MORE times all accompanied by "That is TOTALLY GROSS!!!" until I actually had to speed (that's enough from the peanut gallery) to get to my destination. At that point a little, very disgusted and woeful voice in the back seat said..."I KNEW I should have had peanut butter and jelly for lunch."
So..what do you do with a back seat full of...well...you know... and a kid covered in the same and NO way to clean it up with a grossed out 'Tweenie and a woeful child? You call in the Calvary! Has anyone thanked God for cell phones yet? Boy, I sure do! I got on the phone to my daughter and she grabbed her paper towels and her Fabreeze...(it would take a case of paper towels and a gallon of Fabreeze but I'm glad she was thinking!)...and came to save the day. We did the best we could to clean it up and, although it may sound strange...everyone except the little guy and I, opted to ride home with my daughter. I can't say as I blamed them. I was fearful that I would hear that "Oh! My tummy hurts again!" but I didn't. My honey helped me clean out my car and I gave the little guy a bath and he was right as rain...
Speaking of which...we had one heck of a thunderstorm this morning. I was laying there listening to it and thinking about how romantic it was when the dogs decided they had to go out. So, I took them to the front porch where there is some shelter so they could potty. I was standing there in the dark...it was five o'clock in the morning...in a thunderstorm...in my nightie...waiting for the dogs to go....when I see my husband dart through the living room in his shorts and put on his jacket. I didn't think much of it because I thought he MIGHT be coming to help me with the dogs when he stuck his head out the door and said..."There is water dripping on our bed!" "GET OUT!!!" I shouted...(or something trendy like that) and headed back into the house to help. Thank goodness the dogs had peed and as my husband headed out side to clean the gutters...did I tell you it was five in the morning?...I grabbed several beach towels out of the closet and proceeded to dry up our bed with my feet while holding a towel to the dripping ceiling. The thunder was clapping, lightening flashing...I was standing on our bed with beach towels while my honey was out in the torrent cleaning the gutters. In the mean time, our dogs went back to bed. As soon as the gutters emptied the drips stopped and the bed was dry so we went back to bed too. We lay there for a little while listening to the rain and chuckling over the humor of the situation. We seem to get into all kinds of interesting dilemma's concerning water. Like the time he was recovering from the flu and our water bed sprung a leak and we had to physically wrestle it into the bath tub. But that's another story...
Let me tell ya...I would much rather hear my husband say..."Water is dripping on our bed!" than "Oh! My tummy hurts again!" because after the week we just had I am exhausted.
Life can be so difficult. When we are in the middle of the trials we think we can't take another moment of it. We pray and say "Oh my God!" and we hope for immediate answers the way WE want them. We want it all to be simple and calm but where's the fun in that? Where's the learning? (I will forever carry paper towels in my car) He teaches us with trials if we will just listen and He ads a little humor too. After all with all that life throws at us...sometimes we've just got to laugh.
Now, I hope you don't have a really weak stomach because the previous paragraph would turn you off from reading the completion of my story...and if you do and you are puking I'm so sorry. It all started Memorial Day weekend. We were supposed to be having a great time with the onset of "Summer"...it is supposed to be hot now right?...but it wasn't working out quite that way. Two of our girls got sick. I didn't know one of them was and the other had called me to ask me if I could help her if she needed me. I really didn't have time to answer her because she said..."Gotta Go!" and hung up. Well to make a long story even longer, by Sunday those two were fine but the younger ones were in the bull pen heating up. You see, every Sunday we gather...my clan and I...to have church and eat dinner and have a great day of relaxing and playing and socializing. I look forward to it every Sunday. That Sunday though we were...(weak stomach alert)...busy cleaning up puke. We were also checking blood sugars quite frequently and between the two weren't having as much fun. We all took it in stride though...after all we are a fun loving clan and we hang together no matter what. Right?
By Monday morning one was in the emergency room getting re-hydrated because of her diabetes and I was...little did I know...warming up in the bull pen for MY bout with the ferocious stomach virus that was claiming the family.
Oh..my..God! And I am using that term as a prayer. I couldn't believe that my babies had gone through the pain, the nausea, the diarrhea the...well for the sake of you weak stomachers out there I'll stop the description...hell that we were subjected to. It took four days for me to feel like I was alive, much less human. To top it of...my husband got it too. He was home from work for two days. Ladies?? You understand don't you? (No honey, I'm not complaining...we just don't know how to make you more comfortable:) ) I think it's great though that he was able to get out to the Memorial Tournament today though!
So...we were all healing and going through our normal hectic schedules...trying to keep all the ducks in a row and sanitized. It seemed like everything was getting back to normal...what ever that is...when I needed to take the littlest clans member (he's five) with me to pick up his sister at the bus stop. I asked my older granddaughter if she wanted to go too and she did so we piled into my PT Cruiser and headed out. The little one was in the back seat and the 'Tweenie was in the front.
Well...you moms will appreciate this...you know when you hear a tea kettle just begin to whistle and you know it's about to boil? Or you hear that crack of thunder just seconds before you are in the middle of a deluge of rain? Have any of you ever heard this?..."Oh!...My tummy is starting to hurt!!!...along with whimpering and then crying and you are hopeless because you are in rush hour traffic trying to catch a school bus so that your child isn't standing there alone and all of a sudden...My 'Tweenie looked back at the little guy at just the right time and immediately turned back around stating in her Valley Girl talk..."Ugh...that is SO GROSS!"
I didn't have any paper towels, napkins, clothing, rags....NOTHING IN MY CAR TO STAUNCH THE FLOW...and, did I tell you I was in rush hour traffic trying to catch a freakin' bus?
I heard the "my tummy still hurts" about three MORE times all accompanied by "That is TOTALLY GROSS!!!" until I actually had to speed (that's enough from the peanut gallery) to get to my destination. At that point a little, very disgusted and woeful voice in the back seat said..."I KNEW I should have had peanut butter and jelly for lunch."
So..what do you do with a back seat full of...well...you know... and a kid covered in the same and NO way to clean it up with a grossed out 'Tweenie and a woeful child? You call in the Calvary! Has anyone thanked God for cell phones yet? Boy, I sure do! I got on the phone to my daughter and she grabbed her paper towels and her Fabreeze...(it would take a case of paper towels and a gallon of Fabreeze but I'm glad she was thinking!)...and came to save the day. We did the best we could to clean it up and, although it may sound strange...everyone except the little guy and I, opted to ride home with my daughter. I can't say as I blamed them. I was fearful that I would hear that "Oh! My tummy hurts again!" but I didn't. My honey helped me clean out my car and I gave the little guy a bath and he was right as rain...
Speaking of which...we had one heck of a thunderstorm this morning. I was laying there listening to it and thinking about how romantic it was when the dogs decided they had to go out. So, I took them to the front porch where there is some shelter so they could potty. I was standing there in the dark...it was five o'clock in the morning...in a thunderstorm...in my nightie...waiting for the dogs to go....when I see my husband dart through the living room in his shorts and put on his jacket. I didn't think much of it because I thought he MIGHT be coming to help me with the dogs when he stuck his head out the door and said..."There is water dripping on our bed!" "GET OUT!!!" I shouted...(or something trendy like that) and headed back into the house to help. Thank goodness the dogs had peed and as my husband headed out side to clean the gutters...did I tell you it was five in the morning?...I grabbed several beach towels out of the closet and proceeded to dry up our bed with my feet while holding a towel to the dripping ceiling. The thunder was clapping, lightening flashing...I was standing on our bed with beach towels while my honey was out in the torrent cleaning the gutters. In the mean time, our dogs went back to bed. As soon as the gutters emptied the drips stopped and the bed was dry so we went back to bed too. We lay there for a little while listening to the rain and chuckling over the humor of the situation. We seem to get into all kinds of interesting dilemma's concerning water. Like the time he was recovering from the flu and our water bed sprung a leak and we had to physically wrestle it into the bath tub. But that's another story...
Let me tell ya...I would much rather hear my husband say..."Water is dripping on our bed!" than "Oh! My tummy hurts again!" because after the week we just had I am exhausted.
Life can be so difficult. When we are in the middle of the trials we think we can't take another moment of it. We pray and say "Oh my God!" and we hope for immediate answers the way WE want them. We want it all to be simple and calm but where's the fun in that? Where's the learning? (I will forever carry paper towels in my car) He teaches us with trials if we will just listen and He ads a little humor too. After all with all that life throws at us...sometimes we've just got to laugh.
Friday, May 16, 2008
A Ton Of Bricks...
I've been walking around in a bit of a daze these past few days. I'm in a place that I don't think I have ever been...at least not like this...and I'm sad, angry and mostly....scared.
All around the world there are disastrous things happening. Cyclones, earthquakes, tornado's, gas prices...(well, gas prices are not life threatening...are they?)that are causing death and sorrow in staggering amounts. It saddens my heart and I hope and pray for survivors and mercy on those who have died. I have not turned a blind eye to these things...not in the least. But there is nothing I can do about it. I can pray for them but I, personally, can't help them.
I don't want to give the impression that I pass all of that off but in my corner of the world we are having disasters too...do you know what I mean? And because I can do nothing...I'm so thankful that my God is in control and that I can turn all things over to Him.
I am in a quandary because of my eight-year-old granddaughter Chloe. Recently she has not been herself...she's been lethargic, eating constantly, drinking constantly, loosing weight...and she can't afford to loose weight...and we have all been concerned. Her parents took her to see her pediatrician on Wednesday morning and in a matter of hours our whole world was turned upside down. Chloe was diagnosed with Type I Diabetes. Her sugar count was over 600 and she was sent immediately to an endocrinologist.
She will have to have four shots and test her blood sugar about eight times which means she will have to be poked at least twelve times a day! Now, I understand that there are thousands of people in this country...maybe even more...of all ages...who have this disease. I know that they are suffering the pokes too. I have empathy for them. But this hit us like a ton of bricks. How could a beautiful energetic HEALTHY eight-year-old have diabetes? Why? What caused it? Will it change? What will be her challenges? Will she get used to it? Will it hurt every time? Will she feel like playing? Will her life have to be run by a clock now? Will she enjoy strawberry shortcake again? Will she get to blow bubbles with her much loved bubble gum? Will she have to be careful of how much she plays or swims or jumps rope or rides her bike? Will she be able to sleep through the night without getting her finger stuck to check her blood? There are so many questions!
I want to hold her....to comfort her...to suffer for her. I want to let her know that my heart is broken because this is happening to her. I want to scream at the unfairness of the situation! I want to cry for her and not let the needles hurt...but I can't. I can do nothing to help her. I can't let her into my heart so she can see what I am feeling. I'm scared that I'll do it wrong when she is with me...that she is loosing her childhood. And I can't help her.
Dear God...please help it not to hurt.
Please let her play and laugh and not be sick. Let her know how much I love her and that if I could take this from her I would...in a heart beat.
I feel so helpless, Lord, but I can do one thing. I can pray. And it is my prayer that they find a cure.
Amen.
I can't do anything to help those disaster victims. But I know the One Who can and I will turn everything over to Him including Chloe. I know He will comfort her take away her hurts and my fear and give me the wisdom and knowledge to care for her when she visits. One thing is for sure...you can bet that I'll have a copious amount of hugs and kisses to hopefully make the hurts feel better. And I'll even buy her some sugarless bubble gum.
All around the world there are disastrous things happening. Cyclones, earthquakes, tornado's, gas prices...(well, gas prices are not life threatening...are they?)that are causing death and sorrow in staggering amounts. It saddens my heart and I hope and pray for survivors and mercy on those who have died. I have not turned a blind eye to these things...not in the least. But there is nothing I can do about it. I can pray for them but I, personally, can't help them.
I don't want to give the impression that I pass all of that off but in my corner of the world we are having disasters too...do you know what I mean? And because I can do nothing...I'm so thankful that my God is in control and that I can turn all things over to Him.
I am in a quandary because of my eight-year-old granddaughter Chloe. Recently she has not been herself...she's been lethargic, eating constantly, drinking constantly, loosing weight...and she can't afford to loose weight...and we have all been concerned. Her parents took her to see her pediatrician on Wednesday morning and in a matter of hours our whole world was turned upside down. Chloe was diagnosed with Type I Diabetes. Her sugar count was over 600 and she was sent immediately to an endocrinologist.
She will have to have four shots and test her blood sugar about eight times which means she will have to be poked at least twelve times a day! Now, I understand that there are thousands of people in this country...maybe even more...of all ages...who have this disease. I know that they are suffering the pokes too. I have empathy for them. But this hit us like a ton of bricks. How could a beautiful energetic HEALTHY eight-year-old have diabetes? Why? What caused it? Will it change? What will be her challenges? Will she get used to it? Will it hurt every time? Will she feel like playing? Will her life have to be run by a clock now? Will she enjoy strawberry shortcake again? Will she get to blow bubbles with her much loved bubble gum? Will she have to be careful of how much she plays or swims or jumps rope or rides her bike? Will she be able to sleep through the night without getting her finger stuck to check her blood? There are so many questions!
I want to hold her....to comfort her...to suffer for her. I want to let her know that my heart is broken because this is happening to her. I want to scream at the unfairness of the situation! I want to cry for her and not let the needles hurt...but I can't. I can do nothing to help her. I can't let her into my heart so she can see what I am feeling. I'm scared that I'll do it wrong when she is with me...that she is loosing her childhood. And I can't help her.
Dear God...please help it not to hurt.
Please let her play and laugh and not be sick. Let her know how much I love her and that if I could take this from her I would...in a heart beat.
I feel so helpless, Lord, but I can do one thing. I can pray. And it is my prayer that they find a cure.
Amen.
I can't do anything to help those disaster victims. But I know the One Who can and I will turn everything over to Him including Chloe. I know He will comfort her take away her hurts and my fear and give me the wisdom and knowledge to care for her when she visits. One thing is for sure...you can bet that I'll have a copious amount of hugs and kisses to hopefully make the hurts feel better. And I'll even buy her some sugarless bubble gum.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Isn't she.....Precious?
God works in mysterious ways. Sometimes, when a miracle happens we don't see it at first. We have to think about it, digest it and then BAM! it hits us right between the eyes.
I have had such a miracle happen to me.
Now many of you may think, after reading this story, that this isn't a miracle...but it is. Miracles can come in small packages or in large earth shattering ones. Mine is small but a miracle nonetheless.
It all started in January. I have a small dog (he weighs ten pounds), a Silkie terrier, named 'Skeeter. He is three and a half years old and he was acting like he was ninety. He would mope around the house and lay in his favorite spot on the back of the couch looking out the window in a deep blue funk. I was concerned. I knew he needed more exercise but I was not able to play with him CONSTANTLY. So, I decided he needed a little sister.
I began looking for puppies on the Internet...going to various rescue sites and petfinders.com and even had my computer crash when I went to the nasty site of freeyorkiepuppies.com (believe me...don't go there). We went to pet stores, the animal shelter, and looked on Craig's List. The search was difficult because I was being very specific about who I wanted. This new member to my family had to be a little girl, who would not be bigger than ten or so pounds at adulthood and she needed to be a Yorkie, Westie or Silkie terrier. Although there were several bites (excuse the pun) there was no one I was even interested in...until I saw her.
I walked into Jack's Aquarium and Pets one day with some of my grandchildren and there she was...in a Plexiglas pen...with some other puppies. I picked her up and she sort of molded her little body to mine. She was so still and she looked up at me with those big black eyes and I melted. I said to her..."You are so...Precious!"
There was a problem or two though. She was not a Yorkie, Westie, or a Silkie...she was a Schnoodle. Not that that mattered much because I was in love but she was six hundred dollars! That mattered. Also, I was told that she would grow to be about thirty pounds....also a BIG problem. I put her back in her pen and sadly left the store practically dragging three kids with me. (they wanted to play with the pets)
I went to visit Precious every week or so until one day...she wasn't there. She'd been sold. I was sad but I knew she was too expensive for me and she was too big for 'Skeeter and....she had a good home, right? I continued to search and search for the right puppy as I continued to think about Precious.
For some strange reason though I continued to be compelled to return to Jack's to "look at puppies". There were several there but none like Precious. Then one day several weeks later, I had this overwhelming urge to go to Jack's and I did. When I walked in...there in the Plexiglas pen...was a little dog (the only dog) sleeping on her side. I walked up to her and petted her thin little body and when she looked at me I almost burst into tears. It was my Precious! I picked her up and wondered when was the last time she ate...she was so thin. The sales clerk came over to me and I explained my story to her. She said that Precious had been bought and returned....twice! Twice!!! I told the young lady my dilemma about the price and size and she said that her price had dropped (into my price range!) and that her parents were MINIATURE Schnauzer and Poodle and that she would only get to be about fifteen pounds tops. Without hesitating I said..."I'll take her". When I asked Precious (whom I was holding and wasn't about to put down) if she wanted to go home I was blessed with the best kisses you would ever imagine. She knew she was mine, she had just been waiting for me and I knew she was mine because all of the obstacles had been removed. This little dog that had such a hard life in all of her three months was finally going to a forever home with me to be subjected to much love and spoiling.
'Skeeter moped.
I was so worried that I had done the wrong thing by him that it literally made me sick for a week. I had already bonded with Precious but he hadn't. I wanted to love her and play with her but I had to wait and only pet her when he wasn't looking. But I needn't have worried. They have been together for thirteen days and are now the best of friends. They play and they run and they bark and it is loud at times but it is so much fun to watch them. 'Skeeter is no longer moping, walks are a challenge but we'll get the hang of it...and I have a new baby in the house so there are extra duties to perform and some "fattening" to do (she has already gained about a pound and a half). But I love it. I love the fact that God knew my heart and my desires and granted me this adorable little girl. He saved her for me. Oh sure, someone purchased her...two different someones...but they brought her back because God was saving her for me. I am so blessed that He spoke to me about returning to Jack's over and over again and I'm happy I listened. Because in listening, I received a small Precious miracle.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Explaination...
Okay, it occurred to me...actually my wonderful husband brought it to my attention...that many of you outside my little clan are probably wondering what the heck my last story was about. Sorry. I think I just had it in my head and wanted to get it down without any prologue for you.
This story is about crickets. Crickets who are purchased to feed lizards. Feeder Crickets you might call them.
My grandson Devon has pet lizards. They are like gecko's I guess. There are cute in their lizardness and they eat a LOT of crickets. Liz goes to the pet store (and I do too sometimes) and purchases three dozen crickets. The sales person usually has three dozen already packaged (do all lizards eat three dozen crickets a week?) but on occasion has to count them out and package them on the spot. I wonder, do they count the cricket's legs and divide by six?
At an rate, the crickets then, once they are home, have to have a coating of lizard vitamins...hence the white powder on their little bodies, and then they are unceremoniously dumped into the lizard tank where they wait to be....well...eaten.
One morning Devon woke up and one of his lizards was floating in its water bowl and to help him recover from the loss...we started talking about a Cricket Hit. This is where the story came from. Now you can go back and read it again if you like and it will make more sense...I hope.
Also, Dave wrote about procrastination...I totally get it. I really got a good laugh at his list. I truly relate...
This story is about crickets. Crickets who are purchased to feed lizards. Feeder Crickets you might call them.
My grandson Devon has pet lizards. They are like gecko's I guess. There are cute in their lizardness and they eat a LOT of crickets. Liz goes to the pet store (and I do too sometimes) and purchases three dozen crickets. The sales person usually has three dozen already packaged (do all lizards eat three dozen crickets a week?) but on occasion has to count them out and package them on the spot. I wonder, do they count the cricket's legs and divide by six?
At an rate, the crickets then, once they are home, have to have a coating of lizard vitamins...hence the white powder on their little bodies, and then they are unceremoniously dumped into the lizard tank where they wait to be....well...eaten.
One morning Devon woke up and one of his lizards was floating in its water bowl and to help him recover from the loss...we started talking about a Cricket Hit. This is where the story came from. Now you can go back and read it again if you like and it will make more sense...I hope.
Also, Dave wrote about procrastination...I totally get it. I really got a good laugh at his list. I truly relate...
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
The Hit....
"I don't know what happened..." the long legged Newcomer said, "we were all sitting there at the Crate, you know...my homies and me...and we was just talkin' and rubbing our legs together...kind of like we do sometimes...just to make noise and then the whole place started to shake! The Crate just lifted up...I don't know how...maybe it was some cosmic force or something but then things went from bad to worse! Me and my homies were just hangin' on for dear life...you know...hooking our spikey arms over the Crate to keep from fallin' and then the Crate fell into a large plastic tube! The next thing we know is we're whirling around and the plastic tube filled with a gush of air! It nearly knocked me off the Crate while one of my buddies fell screaming into what we thought was certain death but then he kind of bounced off some kind of plastic and was okay! We didn't know what to think then because then the whole thing abruptly landed in some sort of square white thing and then....and then.....it became pitch black. I'm here to tell ya...I was scared! I was too scared to make a sound. I didn't know where me and my buds were and the only thing familiar about it was the Crate we were clinging to. I felt like we were falling all the time and the dudes were digging at this kind of force field that had trapped us. We were scared spitless! The next thing I knew, this white powdery stuff fell from the sky and the force field started vibrating violently until we were all completely covered in the stuff. I forgot I was scared and started laughing my thorax off because my buds looked so stupid. I mean...they looked like ghosts! Only their beady little eyes were sticking out. I guess I must have looked just as ridiculous 'cuz they were laughing at me too! We was just rolling on the floor of that force field laughing when all of a sudden...our whole world turned upside down...literally!!! We were falling and falling until we came to a hard crash on the bottom of this here tropical jungle...the Crate was no longer around...and we was thinkin' 'what the heck was that?...were are we??' Have be been captured by aliens?""Si! Theese ees yust the way it happen to us, Amigo...we was hangin' out at the Cantina too and all of that stuff happen to us too!....Only me and my Com padres has been here for a leetle while and we see things....BAD things....theese ees why we run and hide...under the ground...en the tree...anywhere....""But why do you hide?""One wold," said the little guy in the back. "Godzirra!""Godzirra?" said the new-comer."I theenk he means Godziyya, these accents are hard to get used to, Si?"The New-comer looked around nervously as did his buddies. "Wh...what is a Godzilla?""Oh Se~nor....eet ees a mucho grande leesard.""WHAT?""Theese ees why we hide." The rest in the room nodded their heads each one looking anxiously around.Later that evening everyone was sleeping when a piercing scream filled the air...."GODZIRRA.....GODZIRRA......GODZI...." and then silence."We have to do something." Newcomer said, "We can't just sit here or run and hide every time that thing comes out! We have to beat it to the punch. We have to.....kill it."Ooooh's and ahhhh's filled the air as the revelation began to dawn on the gathered throng. Someone had actually decided to take action against this horrible thing that was eating their friends."But...hhhow we ggggonna to that?" asked a particularly small and terrified voice from under a nearby rock.Newcomer looked around at all of the expectant faces surrounding him and took a deep breath. As he exhaled a cloud of white burst forth like a fog from his mouth. "We have to stick together.." "That won't be hard" said the voice from under the rock, "if we get wet this white stuff will stick us together like glue.""NO! That's not what I mean," said Newcomer, "we need to form a team...gang up on that....thing...out there and get rid of it!"Many voices rose in agreement...others mumbled that it was a suicide attempt at best."Alright...here's what we'll do..."So the planning went on through the night and no one was taken even though the Beast could be seen hanging in the tree waiting for someone to bolt from their hiding place.In the early morning, while it was still dark, the group joined together while the Beast was asleep in the tree to finalize their plans. They knew it would be hungry when it woke up, having not fed for the past several hours and that it would go to the water hole first.They waited...and waited....Finally, with a huge yawn the green scales began to move down the tree and onto the ground. Everything and everyone trembled with each step the creature took toward the water hole. The white-faced group looked on from their secluded place until the lizard dipped its face into the water hole....."Charge!!!!" screamed the Newcomer....The gathered throng sprang out of hiding and onto the back of the surprised and unsuspecting beast. It struggled but they throng was determined...."Thees es for my brother Hector..." said Chico with a punch to the lizards tail. After all, Chico did NOT want to be too close to the jaws of death. One after one the punches flew as the lizard began to tire and then...all of the group jumped on its leathery head and held it under the water until....there were no more struggles....the lizard lay half in, half out of the water hole, motionless. Its eyes glazed over in death."We did it!" they all shouted rubbing their legs together is a chorus of chirping. "Hooray!!"But then...behind them...the ground began to tremble...and fear struck the group again...the celebration ceased as they ran for their lives to hide and wait..."I know, I know..." said Newcomer..."we've heard it all before" he wearily replied to the white-faced stranger that had just fallen from the sky. "Here's what we have to do....."
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
He Touched Me...
Hi Dad,
We had your funeral today.
It was nice. A lot of people came...did you see them? Some of the guys you worked with at Battelle were there and several of your friends from your old neighborhood and church. Of course, most all of your family...Amy couldn't be here because of the new baby and she was so sad to have missed it. I know her heart was here though.
You made things so easy for us. You had everything ready. We appreciated that. It made us think that we should do the same for our children. There were just the finishing touches that needed to be done. Things you would never have done for yourself. The accolades. The recognition of things in your life that meant a lot to those who love you and even to those who don't even know you.
So many people were astounded at your achievements. Not me. But then I had the pleasure of spending a great deal of time with you and learning what an insightful and incredibly intelligent man you were....now don't go blushing on me...it's true. You literally made it possible to light up the lives of countless children around the world with that clear rubber of yours. And at the time, you didn't even know what it could possibly be used for. It was an invention that was world changing!
I've learned that you were so multi-faceted that it would take many pages to describe your life. And all this in a quiet and gentle man.
We chose to display your awards...at least some of them...and your coffee mug from Battelle and your scrapbook so people could get to know you better. We also chose...well your boys did...to give you a whimsical look. I really hope you like the tie. Although Loony Tunes doesn't fit your personality...you were never loony...the hint of humor...the underlying chuckle that was always there...does. You seemed to always have that little mischievous twinkle in your eyes. I wondered about that.
I don't remember much about the service except it took two pastors to send you off. They were eloquent in their words, your new pastor whom we didn't know and the other one who knew you longest. They were right in that you were a pillar in the church. I'm so grateful for that. It gave me comfort to know that you would be at home in Heaven...and to know that I would be able to see you again. I was being selfish...I'll admit that. While I knew everyone else was mourning you...I needed to do so as well.
Dave and I sang for you...I hope you were able to hear it. He did a great job didn't he? He is and was a source of strength for me. You did an excellent job raising him. He is so much like you in how he cares for me...just like you cared for grandma. You instilled great things in him and, like you, he is a great man. He misses you too, you know.
We thought it was amusing...here comes a "tie" moment...that you would choose Leap Day to go Home. We were all wondering what day in March you would leave us but you had the last laugh didn't you...Leap Day. Is that so we only have to think about your passing every four years? Hmmmm.....
It rained.
No...it poured.
On the way to the cemetery, following you down the highway, the rain all but obliterated vision of the road. That poor police escort was drenched but he valiantly kept the procession moving and, more than a few times, shook his fist at other drivers who were showing you a great lack of respect. I was mad at them too. Through my tears I wondered how they could carry on when a great man was being laid to rest. How could they disrespect you like that?
Dad, my heart is broken. I barely realized the people huddled under that tent hearing the last "ashes to ashes" service. I was devastated. You mean so much to me. I wasn't ready to give you up. I wasn't ready for them to close the lid on you and put you away. I didn't want to be unable to stroke your hair and tell you I loved you. I didn't want to.....let go. But deep inside my heart, I know that you didn't just walk through Heaven's gates...you ran. You had waited so long that you ran past all the relatives and friends who had gone before you...smiling as you did, perhaps laughing that big hearty laugh of yours...and straight into the arms of your love. You swept her off her feet and twirled her around and around and you kissed her. After this long time you were again dancin' with grandma.
I miss you Dad. I long to hear your voice and see your face. To hear the stories about homing pigeons and the Chicago World's Fair, and hobo's and trains. I want to learn more about your courtship with Grandma and help you write your book. I want to pick up the ringing phone and hear you say..."Maggie...this is grandpa" and to walk down the hall to your room and see your face light up when I walk in. But I can't. I guess I will have to do that in my memory...and I will...frequently. I'll see you again though. I know that some day I will walk through Heaven's gates. I'll look for the guy in the Loony Tunes tie...
In the mean time...I love you, Dad...you know how to find me...call if you need anything...and I'll be right there.
We had your funeral today.
It was nice. A lot of people came...did you see them? Some of the guys you worked with at Battelle were there and several of your friends from your old neighborhood and church. Of course, most all of your family...Amy couldn't be here because of the new baby and she was so sad to have missed it. I know her heart was here though.
You made things so easy for us. You had everything ready. We appreciated that. It made us think that we should do the same for our children. There were just the finishing touches that needed to be done. Things you would never have done for yourself. The accolades. The recognition of things in your life that meant a lot to those who love you and even to those who don't even know you.
So many people were astounded at your achievements. Not me. But then I had the pleasure of spending a great deal of time with you and learning what an insightful and incredibly intelligent man you were....now don't go blushing on me...it's true. You literally made it possible to light up the lives of countless children around the world with that clear rubber of yours. And at the time, you didn't even know what it could possibly be used for. It was an invention that was world changing!
I've learned that you were so multi-faceted that it would take many pages to describe your life. And all this in a quiet and gentle man.
We chose to display your awards...at least some of them...and your coffee mug from Battelle and your scrapbook so people could get to know you better. We also chose...well your boys did...to give you a whimsical look. I really hope you like the tie. Although Loony Tunes doesn't fit your personality...you were never loony...the hint of humor...the underlying chuckle that was always there...does. You seemed to always have that little mischievous twinkle in your eyes. I wondered about that.
I don't remember much about the service except it took two pastors to send you off. They were eloquent in their words, your new pastor whom we didn't know and the other one who knew you longest. They were right in that you were a pillar in the church. I'm so grateful for that. It gave me comfort to know that you would be at home in Heaven...and to know that I would be able to see you again. I was being selfish...I'll admit that. While I knew everyone else was mourning you...I needed to do so as well.
Dave and I sang for you...I hope you were able to hear it. He did a great job didn't he? He is and was a source of strength for me. You did an excellent job raising him. He is so much like you in how he cares for me...just like you cared for grandma. You instilled great things in him and, like you, he is a great man. He misses you too, you know.
We thought it was amusing...here comes a "tie" moment...that you would choose Leap Day to go Home. We were all wondering what day in March you would leave us but you had the last laugh didn't you...Leap Day. Is that so we only have to think about your passing every four years? Hmmmm.....
It rained.
No...it poured.
On the way to the cemetery, following you down the highway, the rain all but obliterated vision of the road. That poor police escort was drenched but he valiantly kept the procession moving and, more than a few times, shook his fist at other drivers who were showing you a great lack of respect. I was mad at them too. Through my tears I wondered how they could carry on when a great man was being laid to rest. How could they disrespect you like that?
Dad, my heart is broken. I barely realized the people huddled under that tent hearing the last "ashes to ashes" service. I was devastated. You mean so much to me. I wasn't ready to give you up. I wasn't ready for them to close the lid on you and put you away. I didn't want to be unable to stroke your hair and tell you I loved you. I didn't want to.....let go. But deep inside my heart, I know that you didn't just walk through Heaven's gates...you ran. You had waited so long that you ran past all the relatives and friends who had gone before you...smiling as you did, perhaps laughing that big hearty laugh of yours...and straight into the arms of your love. You swept her off her feet and twirled her around and around and you kissed her. After this long time you were again dancin' with grandma.
I miss you Dad. I long to hear your voice and see your face. To hear the stories about homing pigeons and the Chicago World's Fair, and hobo's and trains. I want to learn more about your courtship with Grandma and help you write your book. I want to pick up the ringing phone and hear you say..."Maggie...this is grandpa" and to walk down the hall to your room and see your face light up when I walk in. But I can't. I guess I will have to do that in my memory...and I will...frequently. I'll see you again though. I know that some day I will walk through Heaven's gates. I'll look for the guy in the Loony Tunes tie...
In the mean time...I love you, Dad...you know how to find me...call if you need anything...and I'll be right there.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Forgiveness....
It certainly will be a glorious day when Jesus comes back to show the world that He is the Ultimate giver of forgiveness. If they don't know it now...eventually they will.
I guess this comes under the category of "Give me a freakin' break".
The other day I was listening to the radio and heard a story about a female golf announcer who was caught up in the moment and said something that was taken completely out of context. She made reference to Tiger Woods and how the younger golfers, in order to catch him, would have to take lynch him in a back alley. Okay...poor choice of words...true...but she didn't mean anything derogatory about it. For heaven's sake...she is best buds with Tiger! She went to him and they talked and he basically said to forget about it and they went on with life. She took care of it Biblically even though she probably didn't realize it at the time. Maybe she doesn't even know that now. That should have been the end of the subject but along comes ol' REV. (and I use that term only because he does) Al Sharpton. He is demanding that she be fired from her job because of the situation. He says it was a racial slur...he wants her head in a basket.
People....seriously.
Why has the world come to this? Al Sharpton (I will henceforth refrain from calling him a Reverend) seems to think he is the next Martin Luther King. But he's not. Dr. King would never (in my humble opinion) go after people the way Sharpton does. I would like to be a fly on the wall of his home to hear what he might have called that poor sportscaster. If he used the "B" word then I want his job (whatever job that may be) because he used a slur against women. If he used the term "white" in ANY form, he should be fired. If he denigrated her at all...that is grounds for dismissal. But we may never know....unless the media gets hold of something and then who do we believe?
This was just the straw that broke the camels back so to speak. There is so much injustice in the world that something has to give. Instead of bad mouthing Brittney...some one should take her in and show her Christ's love so she can love herself and her sons in like manner. Instead of looking for faults in everything everyone says we should be looking for the good in each person or praying for them against the tragedy that made them who they are.
Tiger reportedly handled it like a gentleman. He was understanding and forgiving. The way it should be.
Al Sharpton isn't the saviour of the world...Jesus is.
Let's live by example.
I guess this comes under the category of "Give me a freakin' break".
The other day I was listening to the radio and heard a story about a female golf announcer who was caught up in the moment and said something that was taken completely out of context. She made reference to Tiger Woods and how the younger golfers, in order to catch him, would have to take lynch him in a back alley. Okay...poor choice of words...true...but she didn't mean anything derogatory about it. For heaven's sake...she is best buds with Tiger! She went to him and they talked and he basically said to forget about it and they went on with life. She took care of it Biblically even though she probably didn't realize it at the time. Maybe she doesn't even know that now. That should have been the end of the subject but along comes ol' REV. (and I use that term only because he does) Al Sharpton. He is demanding that she be fired from her job because of the situation. He says it was a racial slur...he wants her head in a basket.
People....seriously.
Why has the world come to this? Al Sharpton (I will henceforth refrain from calling him a Reverend) seems to think he is the next Martin Luther King. But he's not. Dr. King would never (in my humble opinion) go after people the way Sharpton does. I would like to be a fly on the wall of his home to hear what he might have called that poor sportscaster. If he used the "B" word then I want his job (whatever job that may be) because he used a slur against women. If he used the term "white" in ANY form, he should be fired. If he denigrated her at all...that is grounds for dismissal. But we may never know....unless the media gets hold of something and then who do we believe?
This was just the straw that broke the camels back so to speak. There is so much injustice in the world that something has to give. Instead of bad mouthing Brittney...some one should take her in and show her Christ's love so she can love herself and her sons in like manner. Instead of looking for faults in everything everyone says we should be looking for the good in each person or praying for them against the tragedy that made them who they are.
Tiger reportedly handled it like a gentleman. He was understanding and forgiving. The way it should be.
Al Sharpton isn't the saviour of the world...Jesus is.
Let's live by example.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Jeez......
"...but we don't have an explosion proof vacuum cleaner..."
"An explosion proof vacuum cleaner?" I thought. It struck me funny. An explosion proof vacuum cleaner...why in the world would we EVER need an explosion proof vacuum cleaner? It would seem to me that it should NEVER be necessary to even HAVE an explosion proof vacuum cleaner. Having one may or may not give me peace of mind at home if I would choose to clean up. Then I realized that my darling husband...the love of my life...the father of my children...the Pappanator (as his grand kids affectionately call him) was the perpetrator of that sentence. He works in a paint factory. The least little spark and BLAM!!!! hence the explosion proof vacuum cleaner. WHEW!!! If you ask me I don't think they should even WORRY about vaccuuming...Hmmm...maybe I could make paint at my house......
Then there are two other extremely important people in my life whom I love dearly that I will call Dingleberry and Putzhead. They are, without a doubt, the funniest, sweetest, and sometimes wittiest people I know. They are so supportive and beautiful that just hanging around them makes me smile. They may not realize it but they are my very best friends and I so look forward to spending time with them. I thank them for wanting to spend time with me...even when I give them weird little nicknames...during a rousing game of Rummy...or what ever...You are my sweet phat beastie girls...(and according to Jasmine that means you are neato...cool...fab...awesome...and, well, you get the idea!)
Then there are the kids...six of them. I saw my Alex for the first time in about six months. She is beautiful, smart, fun and TALL!!! OMG I couldn't believe it! She's taller than I am and she is only thirteen! I guess the doctors were right when she was a baby....they said she would be over six feet tall and they weren't just kidding! I am so happy to have her here for a little bit. It seems that her visits are few and far between and last only the blink of an eye, but I will use every minute I'm with her to soak in her "Pinks Love"...Vally talk and all...um...Kay?
Jasmine is way...she is one of the hippest kids I've ever met but with common sense (most of the time) and a streak of humor a mile wide. I like how she talks to everyone (even the Pappanator) with surety and self confidence. I learn a lot from her now and I know I will learn more in the future. Jazz...you're all that!
Devon is my tank! He is strong and soft at the same time. He is growing up to be a young man who knows what he wants out of life but he isn't going to trample the little guy to get there. For all of his antics, Dev has the gentlest soul. He has more patience in him than any boy his age I have known. He already is a great mentor for his little cousin Will and to other children he helps at school. He is affectionate to his family and works like a horse when asked. If ever you want something done, ask Dev. He is the best helper ever!
Chloe is Miss Sophisticate. She is a socialite. She is pretty and strong minded. She will take the risk of bodily harm or at least grounding to make a point if she thinks she is right, no matter who the opposition is. She stands up for who she is and what she believes and hates injustice!....Hmmmm.....a lawyer? A judge? A future President? wow...I'm glad she is on MY side!
Mikeala is also strong minded but doesn't really stand up for it unless she is backed into a corner. Then watch out!! She is the strong silent type and has a unique beauty that turns heads. She loves nature and birds and taking care of things. She is crafty and likes to use natural things to make beauty. I think she will grow up to be a wonderful mom. Maybe she will want to be a health care provider or maybe a forest ranger...who knows? But one thing is for sure...she'll turn heads doing it!
William has a wrinkly brain.... That isn't an insult because HE told me that his brain was wrinkly. And because his brain is wrinkly he is smart. And that is an understatement. I think his brain is a sponge because he remembers everything you say and everything he hears...And if you ask him about Thomas the Train he will talk for hours about every aspect of the program. He will talk without taking a breath sometimes because he loves trains soooo much. I don't know what he will do when he grows up but he will have an extra wrinkly brain what ever he does. Maybe he will be an engineer!
Last but not least are my boys. One born, one grafted in. I so appreciate how they take care of their families. They work hard and play harder...which is good. They are the strong silent type. Well...for the most part. I know that if I ever need anything...they will be there for me. All I have to do is ask. I love them deeply and thank them for their tenacity.
Wow...I didn't know I was going to go there. I guess I wanted to share my crazy bunch. If for nothing else than to let them know I think about them every minute of every day and I cherish the time we spend together...even with the chaos and noise and spats and crying because in the end...all of that is replaced with laughter and joy.
Finally...none of the above would have been possible without my Life. The husband with which God honored me . He may be the Pappanator at times and often the voice of reason but to me he is safety and love. He is my hero, my reason, my breath. I am so grateful for every second we have and I pray for at least fifty more years together. That is why, every day I thank God for protecting him...After all, he does have the need for an explosion proof vacuum cleaner.
"An explosion proof vacuum cleaner?" I thought. It struck me funny. An explosion proof vacuum cleaner...why in the world would we EVER need an explosion proof vacuum cleaner? It would seem to me that it should NEVER be necessary to even HAVE an explosion proof vacuum cleaner. Having one may or may not give me peace of mind at home if I would choose to clean up. Then I realized that my darling husband...the love of my life...the father of my children...the Pappanator (as his grand kids affectionately call him) was the perpetrator of that sentence. He works in a paint factory. The least little spark and BLAM!!!! hence the explosion proof vacuum cleaner. WHEW!!! If you ask me I don't think they should even WORRY about vaccuuming...Hmmm...maybe I could make paint at my house......
Then there are two other extremely important people in my life whom I love dearly that I will call Dingleberry and Putzhead. They are, without a doubt, the funniest, sweetest, and sometimes wittiest people I know. They are so supportive and beautiful that just hanging around them makes me smile. They may not realize it but they are my very best friends and I so look forward to spending time with them. I thank them for wanting to spend time with me...even when I give them weird little nicknames...during a rousing game of Rummy...or what ever...You are my sweet phat beastie girls...(and according to Jasmine that means you are neato...cool...fab...awesome...and, well, you get the idea!)
Then there are the kids...six of them. I saw my Alex for the first time in about six months. She is beautiful, smart, fun and TALL!!! OMG I couldn't believe it! She's taller than I am and she is only thirteen! I guess the doctors were right when she was a baby....they said she would be over six feet tall and they weren't just kidding! I am so happy to have her here for a little bit. It seems that her visits are few and far between and last only the blink of an eye, but I will use every minute I'm with her to soak in her "Pinks Love"...Vally talk and all...um...Kay?
Jasmine is way...she is one of the hippest kids I've ever met but with common sense (most of the time) and a streak of humor a mile wide. I like how she talks to everyone (even the Pappanator) with surety and self confidence. I learn a lot from her now and I know I will learn more in the future. Jazz...you're all that!
Devon is my tank! He is strong and soft at the same time. He is growing up to be a young man who knows what he wants out of life but he isn't going to trample the little guy to get there. For all of his antics, Dev has the gentlest soul. He has more patience in him than any boy his age I have known. He already is a great mentor for his little cousin Will and to other children he helps at school. He is affectionate to his family and works like a horse when asked. If ever you want something done, ask Dev. He is the best helper ever!
Chloe is Miss Sophisticate. She is a socialite. She is pretty and strong minded. She will take the risk of bodily harm or at least grounding to make a point if she thinks she is right, no matter who the opposition is. She stands up for who she is and what she believes and hates injustice!....Hmmmm.....a lawyer? A judge? A future President? wow...I'm glad she is on MY side!
Mikeala is also strong minded but doesn't really stand up for it unless she is backed into a corner. Then watch out!! She is the strong silent type and has a unique beauty that turns heads. She loves nature and birds and taking care of things. She is crafty and likes to use natural things to make beauty. I think she will grow up to be a wonderful mom. Maybe she will want to be a health care provider or maybe a forest ranger...who knows? But one thing is for sure...she'll turn heads doing it!
William has a wrinkly brain.... That isn't an insult because HE told me that his brain was wrinkly. And because his brain is wrinkly he is smart. And that is an understatement. I think his brain is a sponge because he remembers everything you say and everything he hears...And if you ask him about Thomas the Train he will talk for hours about every aspect of the program. He will talk without taking a breath sometimes because he loves trains soooo much. I don't know what he will do when he grows up but he will have an extra wrinkly brain what ever he does. Maybe he will be an engineer!
Last but not least are my boys. One born, one grafted in. I so appreciate how they take care of their families. They work hard and play harder...which is good. They are the strong silent type. Well...for the most part. I know that if I ever need anything...they will be there for me. All I have to do is ask. I love them deeply and thank them for their tenacity.
Wow...I didn't know I was going to go there. I guess I wanted to share my crazy bunch. If for nothing else than to let them know I think about them every minute of every day and I cherish the time we spend together...even with the chaos and noise and spats and crying because in the end...all of that is replaced with laughter and joy.
Finally...none of the above would have been possible without my Life. The husband with which God honored me . He may be the Pappanator at times and often the voice of reason but to me he is safety and love. He is my hero, my reason, my breath. I am so grateful for every second we have and I pray for at least fifty more years together. That is why, every day I thank God for protecting him...After all, he does have the need for an explosion proof vacuum cleaner.
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