Revised: Please CLICK HERE (my current blog) for more about this wonderful tradition :).


...we began a new Thanksgiving tradition this year. And although it wasn't quite what I had planned for it to be, it turned out just fine.

We have a "Thankful Box". In it, over the course of the previous year (I bought it last December), we were supposed to write things for which we were thankful. I instructed our children to write a little note whenever they felt thankful for something--a good grade on a test, something related to sports, not getting in trouble for something they should have (sneaky, aren't I?), whatever a kid is thankful for. Tad and I were supposed to write "thankful notes", too. Then, at Thanksgiving, we'd have a great unveiling (unboxing??) and read all the gems stored over the past year.

Well, if I'm anything, it is definitely the Queen of Good Intentions. It's good to be "queen" of something, right?

Although I'd nag about mention it from time to time, I did little to encourage the children to record how thankful they were, and I certainly didn't model it for them. This being said, they ARE grateful children--at least in their early training, I was intentional about cultivating an attitude of thankfulness towards others. Pretty much, if anyone does ANYTHING for them, they'll say "thank you" without being prompted. See? THAT'S something I should've recorded, that's something for which I am VERY thankful. I'm not proud of this, but if I do something special for a child (heck, an adult!) who's not my own, I notice it if they don't acknowledge it; I don't hold it against them, it doesn't make me mad, and I never do anything in order to be thanked, I'm just saying gratefulness is a lovely character trait, and I notice it when it is--and isn't--present.

One September night before dinner, I plopped the Thankful Box in the center of the table. Their ticket to leave the table was to write a note...at least by Thanksgiving (in my idyllic-albeit-delusional world, sitting around our Norman Rockwell-painting-worthy table) we'd have ONE thankful memory to share. They obliged me. Everyone wrote something, folded it, and stuck it in the box.

Fast forward to the week of Thanksgiving. By now, the only person excited about the box was Thomas. Apparently, filled with gratitude at some point, he stuffed the box FULL of his thoughts, and he wanted everyone to know how superior he is to us that he's the best brown-noser in the family HE took my challenge seriously . The rest of us, well...we knew it was a bust.

But, manipulator fixer that I am, I was gonna redeem that little red treasure box, by golly, if it stinkin' killed me! So, when my brother, sister and her family arrived, I explained writing a "thankful note" would be their ticket into Thanksgiving Dinner. They were happy to cooperate, probably because they really were thankful we weren't swarming their homes and requiring them to cook a 14-course meal.

I began to sense momentum. There were now players for my little contrived game. And as I cooked and cooked and cooked, they wrote and wrote and wrote. My heart swelled like the Grinch's at Christmas.

After lunch, it was T I M E. We began by reading a poem I wrote last year, written from the Thankful Box's point of view, explaining its raison d'être . My brother-in-law thought it was trite--everyone needs someone like this around to keep you grounded. As the boxed was passed around the table again and again and again, we took turns reading and guessing who had said it. Evidently, everyone's a comedian or a philosopher in my family, or "wannabes" of either or both. We laughed...a lot...so, regardless of what anyone thought about this revamp of counting your blessings, in spite of the mocking and ridicule I endured, even the most cynical in my family would have to agree it was worth it in the end.

Do you have to guess who that would be?

Just now, I went downstairs, opened the box and re-read every note. Wow. In the quiet of this moment, I realized what I intended for "fun", an exercise in frivolity and flippancy, actually means something. Whether warming my heart or tickling my funny bone, these words just became precious to me. At the time, by God, I was just going to make "something" happen. And it did. Only two weeks AFTER the fact.

The following will probably bore you out of your gourd, but I gotta write some of these down...(say it with me)...so I won't forget.

I am thankful for...

(Outta the mouths of babes, remembering that little things matter, too)
hammocks!
toothpaste and toothbrushes
pens and pencils
socks!
shoes
candy
my bed!
music (multiple entries)
a warm house
a house that blocks out cold (these two remind me not everyone has this :( )
yummy food

(Cleanliness is next to godliness? Again, those little things...I'm seeing a pattern here)
showers
running water
soap
shampoo

(Profound)
Letting me play basketball when I'm no good
Adults who really listen to you
The ability to walk, talk, smell, breathe, hear, taste, feel
Life "now", life "later
That Pop hasn't died yet :/ :-( :-)
Encouraging words (I didn't write this one, but I could have ;) )
that I have multiple things for which to be thankful

(Just plain bizarre or getting REALLY real)
Regular bowel movements
All my fingers
my golf clubs

(Common and "expected" responses)
Family
A supportive family
a good family (suck ups)
Loving parents, brother and sister--that was Stephen's one and only...he missed the flurry of activity of everyone else, although I have no idea how; he was self conscious he only had one, but dang it was sweet, it was his "ONE" from September.
the love from my family
opportunity to make happy memories with family
Aussie and Callie
crazy cousins
good health
beautiful weather
storms
snow

(A few more from my kids)
LEAF BLOWERS!
THAT THE LEAVES ARE ALL RAKED UP!! YAH! :)
FALL! (How can you say this after the "leaf" comments??)
great teachers
my school (again, suck-ups...your teachers won't be reading this!)

(On a spiritual note)
God's gracoiusness
a loving God
wonder and beauty of Creation
to love and be loved -- guess this one could be categorized in a few places...
for letting me run a 60-yard TD (for Thomas, this WAS spiritual!)

(No doubt who these two came from ;) )
VERY thankful my kids "get" my sense of humor and they have a GREAT one themselves :D
love hearing R, T & S helping each other with homework ... playing and laughing together ... and just talking

(This was originally posted 12/06.)

Labels: Family Traditions, Thankful Box, Thanksgiving

APRIL FOOLS MES AMIES!!!



You didn't believe me for a second, did you?

(Wanna know what I'm talking about? Visit my other blog by clicking this link!)

...how about sharing your thoughts with us now?

I was originally tagged by Chris (aka Desert Pastor), and now consider this YOUR tag!

I've thoroughly enjoyed reading others share their thoughts on this meme, and when I saw the Carnival theme, I thought I'd bring it out again since there are so many NEW bloggers added to the blogroll since last summer.

Don't get overwhelmed (I dragged my feet on it because it's so difficult to choose "one" for each category; my answers vary depending on my mood, circumstances or day of the week. Evidently these are my choices for "this" moment in time (except "this" moment in time was August, lol, my answers would differ slightly if I was doing this now) :). (I've read the "rules" of this tag...you can't reference the Bible as a choice....). Just share whatever comes to mind when you read the category.

Let me know in comments if you did it and I'll pay you a visit :). Thanks!!


1. One book that changed your life: The Dick and Jane series, the late 60s years. It's where it all started, I suppose.

2. One book that you’ve read more than once twice: To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee.
(Life Together, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I LOVE this book, it's worthy of an annual read.)

3. One book you’d want on a desert island: The Complete Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson. I'm stuck on a desert island? I need something to make me laugh! Brilliantly written, it wasn't the most expensive book to make the New York Times best-seller list because of its singular appeal to children, I can promise you that.

4. One book that made you laugh: Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind, Ann B. Ross.
I chose this one because it's probably not as well known as others I could've mentioned. A fun ride with a Southern lady who's always sure to tell you what she thinks. Her eighth in the series is forthcoming, I've snorted out loud at some point in every one of 'em.

Honorable mention. At least pick up and read Jerry Seinfeld's Halloween sometime this fall when you're tooling around your favorite bookstore. Oh, my, it's funny! He takes those of us "mid-lifers" right back to how Halloween was when we were kids--James Bennett's illustrations capture the essence of this less-than-10-minute read.

5. One book Two books that made you cry: Father Joe, Tony Hendra. A beautiful telling of one whose life made a difference in each of those with whom he came into contact. The tears caught me off guard, I knew before I started how the book would end.

A MUST-READ for everyone who knows anyone suffering from Alzheimer's, Lewy Bodies Disease or any form of dementia! Read this for the introduction, then A Partial View to see and hear Henderson's inside perspective. It broke my heart.

6. One book you wish had been written: The Photographic Journal, from Genesis to Jude. I'd love to see the faces and places of those about whom I've spent a lifetime of hearing, and as an adult, studying and building a relationship.

7. One book you wish had never been written: Night, by Elie Wiesel. Because it NEVER should have happened. A haunting and affecting perspective of one who survived the brutality and indignity of the Holocaust.

8. One book you’re currently reading: One? lol...how about Jesus Mean and Wild, Mark Galli. (When I missed the online reader-responsive interview over at Paradoxology, my heels cooled on finishing this one (not that it's not GOOD, I've just got others going, too ;) ).

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read: As the Crow Flies, Jeffrey Archer

Postscript~ This is an interesting summary of stats taken from a survey of bloggers who had participated in this meme a few weeks ago (no idea where things stand now). I picked it up from Carrie.

Also, who am I tagging? Blogging Chicks and anyone else who's a bibliophile :).

Wow, I just looked over my list and it's hard to believe I didn't include something, anything, from John Piper or C.S. Lewis, two who have inspired, challenged and provoked me. Speaking of provocation, I gotta add Brian McLaren, too. He, like few others, has challenged and provoked me to know God more intimately, beyond the confines of traditional Christianity. Oh, yeah, Donald Miller deserves a mention, and NOT for "Blue Like Jazz". The opening pages of "Searching for God Knows What", a lesser known work of his, had me blowing snot in Barnes and Noble (yep, I bought it). Nope, it's not comedy, but if you know Miller, you know his humor.

PostPOSTscript ~ I PROMISE, my LAST comments on this (sheesh! It's not supposed to be an editorial!). All I wanna say is my husband will attest to the fact I . CANNOT . MAKE . A . CHOICE! :D Note: originally posted 8/22/06

** BIG sigh ** my little non-bloggity friends.

To access my new blog, click this link: PENSIEVE

That's all there is to it......now save it to your "favorites" or bookmark it or whatever you have to do to find me the next time........:/.

Love y'all/mean it/even when I mock you;).

Hey Blogger bloggers! Looking for my "Front Door" shots? They're over at my TypePad Blog, so I hope you'll click the link and knock real loud!

(FYI, I still use my Blogger log-in when posting to blogs on Blogger...because I LIKE posting with my foot avatar...SOME THINGS are just hard to let go!)

Have you not noticed that I haven't updated "here" in over a week?? Of course there are multiple reasons for that (the past week of TypePad posts explain....:/), but for those of you who check in on Pensieve, it's PAST time to update your Bloglines or bookmarks or whatever reader you use with my new TypePad website, Pensieve. The site is still under construction...now THAT will be a s l o w work in progress, I'd rather write than play techie. But I do miss my custom template, so expect some design changes, not nearly as fast as I'd like 'em. That's where I'll be writing from now on (until in about a year, I probably decide to try the newest "latest and greatest").

I'm kind of bummed about losing my stellar rating in Technorati....I remember when I was one in about 2 million, and then that went down to somewhere in the 5,000s....and, hmmmmm, I guess I need to let Michele over at Blogging Chicks know I've moved.

For those of you who recently "googled" or "yahooed" or "dogpiled" or whatever-searched me and found me using keywords like "caramel machiatto breve calories, cute coffee mug, Dunkin' Donuts, words of encouragement, becoming a minimalist, uvula stuck to your tonsils (thanks, Susan), really disgusting things, Le Cruset, when the cat's away the mice will play, ladybug infestation, unzipped pants, pretty feet, polished toenails, sweet hot mama, pink leopard suitcases, Robin likes to dance, alligators in Kiawah, mintless toothpaste, alanis morissette, Jackie Kennedy, lyrics for Casting Crowns, Eleventyseven or Underoath songs, snorting from laughing so hard, disinfect your kitchen drawer after a mouse, death is not the worst thing, best piecrust, tiny shower remodels, barbie tampons (?????), what fun gag gift can be made from Maxi-Pads, or the meaning of PENSIEVE", you may or may not find what you're looking for here or at the new place. But you sure made me smile trying with keywords like those (I wish I would've saved ALL the bizarre searches over the past eight months or so...bloggers are FREAKS!).

Soooo, theorhetically, this is my "last" Blogger post, but I'm not deleting the site. 1) I still haven't been able to transfer my old posts, and 2) I don't want someone else to capture the URL! and 3) I'm still partial to Susie's design :).

Ciao for now, see you over at TypePad!

Don't be.

If you had read this little dittie, you would know I'm posting over at TypePad for now, and it will feel a LOT more permanent once I figure out how to move at least part of my Blogger design and become proficient at TypeLists and all the JUNK they say makes life easier (but for me, it does little more than make me feel like an OLD DAWG). I STILL haven't been able to transport my Blogger archives...but then again, I haven't fooled with THAT in weeks!

I have to mention my trusty Sunbeam, pictured above. She's been my faithful friend for over 19 years. I'm afraid she's about at the end of her small appliance life, the beaters no longer remain locked when mixing batter. I wonder how many extra pounds she is responsible for on me...on Tad? Cookie dough was mixed so much easier with her...pound cakes, a breeze...and oh, my, word, I could not have made an angel food cake without her! She's been as sweet as pie.

I've thought about replacing her with a Kitchenaid Mixer--the array of color is yumma-wonderfully-Easter-egg-a-licious!! Doesn't it just make you wanna put on an apron, coif your hair and call yourself Betty Crocker? A mixer with style AND substance BEGS to be bought! In spite of the fact it weighs in at 28 pounds, which if you think about it, is a good thing since you'd get a work out every time you use it (unless you leave it out on your counter as "kitchen art", a culinary sculpture I guess).

But...BUT...somehow that seems downright disloyal. Kind of like plopping down the big bucks to replace your slobbering-but-faithful mutt with some highbrow Cavalier King Charles Spaniel or Welsh Corgi pup or something.

So I'll probably just get another Sunbeam, and if it lasts for 19 years...WAIT A SECOND, HOLD THE PRESSES!!! lawd chile, I'll be in my 60s! And since my brain can't even wrap itself around THAT thought, I think I'll stop writing RIGHT.HERE!

Whatever you do, do not, I repeat more loudly and emphatically, DO NOT click this link!

It is what I look like when I KEEP the first resolution on my New Year's list (and no, no matter how bad you want to see them, posting Marnie's nekkid pics did not even make my list this year...I respect her...I do not want to violate her privacy). My own personal nekkid pics are a different story, however, and if you click that link, I'm afraid there is a public display of sorts awaiting.

I know, I know, I'm rather pedestrian...New Year's resolutions are soooo beneath bloggers, you've told me so again and again and again (while simultaneously telling me about your goals...and hopes...and dreams for the new year). Of course, I say that with all affection.

You have been warned. It's not pretty.

Or maybe...just maybe, it is ;).

UPDATE: I changed my mind. Click the link. I'm a woman and it's my ever-lovin' prerogative to change my mind. Because I said so.

This is what TAD has been up to on his days off. Cleaning out our attic space. I think he actually enjoyed himself.

In this pile of STUFF, there is both a printer that we don't use because the toner cartridges are $100 and a printer we don't use simply because we don't like it; computers that have been upgraded (but still kinda sorta work) and their big ol' honking monitors; a fish tank that needs to be cleaned, but Stephen was given a new one, so who needs the hassle?; a NEW-but-slightly-used toaster oven that was given to us, but we don't have the counter space, so we're getting rid of it; a mini food processor (I have its big brother, so again, it's superfluous); a tv that works but we don't use because it pre-dates remotes; a tv that doesn't work; a broken VCR; a marginal coffee maker...

Is it any wonder that good stewardship of resources is on my brain?! More on that when I don't have a headache. I gotta check out that free-cycle thingy I think Erin told me about....

One thing I know...........we have too much crap. I'm becoming a minimalist in my old middle age :/.

It's a new day.

A new year.

Anything is possible.

I begin 2007 the way I begin every new year--with open arms, expectant, eager to celebrate both the ordinary and the spectacular. Savoring simplicity, delighting in the ones I love and who love me. Amazed by g r a c e, grateful for my wealth--and that it's not measured in dollars and cents, but by people, relationships, that matter. Imagining what lies ahead, knowing all will not be "good", which is okay, because that's life, and I'm thankful for it. Hopeful for continued transformation...a life of balance and generosity and compassion and love, that sounds pretty good to me.

I wish you so much more than happiness in the New Year--I wish you contentment and joy and peace and laughter, to me as vital as oxygen.

As an afterthought, this familiar prayer of St. Francis expresses beautifully the essence of what I was trying to convey, only much more eloquently and succinctly:

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Let it be.

Well, it's more like I'm giving YOU a break :).

Instead of writing anything new (since obviously my last few posts have been explosively riveting and randomly engaging), I think any time spent blogging will be used to read and comment y'all (leave a comment here with a link back to ya, and if I haven't read you before, why, I think I'll include visiting new peeps in this little exercise). With kids buzzing around and squillions of things to do, coupled with the blogosphere operating at a snail's pace, I think this idea is simply marvey :).

The one thing that I'd ask of you (newbies AND not-so-newbies) before I go, is to please stop by Kelly's place, tell her I sent you and leave a comment. Her corporate sponsor is contributing $1 per comment to St. Jude's Hospital up to $500. She has until Saturday night to make this goal. If you have a blog of your own, it would be nice if you linked back to her as well. Thanks to those of you who have already visited and to those of you who will; you can comment both today and tomorrow.

UPDATE: Kelly got her 500+ comments, St. Jude's got $500...sounds like everyone's a winner to me :). Thanks to those of you who popped over there from here. I think this might just be the most clever way I've ever seen ANYONE pimp their blog!

More fun with Blogthings :)

Your New Year's Resolutions

1) Get a pet pony 2) Eat more cheese 3) Travel to Holland 4) Study rare insects 5) Get in shape with dodgeball

Don't many resolutions have to do with "getting, eating (or NOT eating), traveling, studying and more getting"? I'm just sayin :/.... I'm posting these pretend ones because I don't wanna be accountable I'm too shy to post my real ones ;).

Y e a h...me... s h y...THAT thought is enough reason to put a smile on MY face!

HT: Pamela

Note: If you don't read anything else in this post, please read #6, you'll be extending a "random act of kindness" and helping others in the process :).

[1] 60 seconds in the car with our family:

Thom: "Does anyone have any sodium chloride?" (this, after driving through McDonalds for a nutritious french fry snack--of course, with diet Coke)

Rach: "Are you learning about that in school?"

Thom: "Nope, 'Jimmy Neutron'." (Educational tv at its finest :/)

Steph: "Know why I don't like eating at O'Charley's anymore?"

(No one answers because they're all talking at once, I'm reaching for the laptop to transcribe this conversation since they've had me giggling for a while now).

Steph (undaunted, in spite of the fact no one responds): "Because ever since I found a bug in my roll there, it grosses me out." (Who knows why in the world he thought of that at this moment--it happened THREE years ago!)

Rach: "What does 'mooch' mean?"

Me: "Bummin' something off of somebody else." (DON'T YOU KNOW THIS WORD???!)

Thom: "Oh, I thought it meant you eat somebody's food without them knowing about it." (weelll, that would kind of make you a thief!)

Me: "Why are you asking?"

Rach (reading off the McDonald's bag): "No dog of your own? Go 'head and mooch. Ask a friend if you could help walk her pooch." (no wonder she was confused, psycho-trite poetry at its finest...I should apply for a job)

[2] This was my favorite Christmas gift (from my husband:) ). I will drink hot beverages while reading good books and if anyone disturbs me, I will not raise my eyes from the page, but shall instead, raise my mug to speak for me.

[3] For our Christmas dinner with Tad's family, we had a smörgåsbord of Italian dishes (no, they aren't Italian). At my sister's, we enjoyed a standing rib roast, potatoes, salad and the like. While everything was delicious, and truly, I was thankful for both, I missed turkey and/or ham, dressing, cranberry sauce, etc., I guess what I consider a more traditional holiday meal. When we got home, I bought both a dead bird and a dead pig while they were dirt-cheap-loss-leaders, and we'll be feasting soon. Funny how I usually prepare either of these only around a holiday....

[4] Meet Hailey and Roxie, Tad's brother's & our S-I-L's "girls". We enjoyed a Christmas visit with them, too. They greeted us with happy snorts and fluids flying from mouth and nose. Janice (their mom) is the youngest "sister" on Tad's side of the family--we have tons o' fun when we're together.

This is from a package of cocktail napkins someone gave her. I've seen it before, but it cracks me up every time! Mary Phillips never fails to get a grin, she has a delightfully acerbic tongue.

[5] Today my husband renewed his driver's license. What would ordinarily be a mundane task, instead, carried great significance. "Why?" you ask...because we've lived in Tennefreakinsee THREE and a half years!! He still had a SC license. Until today. I think that means we might be here a while after all.

And so the last "tie that binds" is neatly clipped.....

[6] PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Go visit Kelly at Pass the Torch. Then, PRETTY-PLEASE comment! For every comment she receives (one per blogger), she's donating $1 to St. Jude Medical Research Hospital (up to $500). CAN YOU IMAGINE 500 comments? Not me, flea! Sooo, no matter "what" kind of reader you are, a regular or someone who hits the Blogger nav bar, please visit Kelly and let her know you popped over from PENSIEVE. Thanks mes amies!

While back in the Carolinas for a family Christmas gathering, I tried something I've never done before...and I'm afraid I liked it just a little too much! I shot skeet. Although not very good at it--I hit about 20%--it sure was fun. Cocked and loaded, from shotguns we progressed to pistols, and my itchy sure and steady trigger finger got to know a .22, a .38 and a .45--nice to meet cha! The .45 knocked me backwards.
Just l o o k at that gleam in my eye (well, there IS one behind my sunglasses) as I was getting used to the feel of the .22 and .38 (I think). Why did everyone run for cover when they saw a gun in my hands?

My form was ridiculous. There I was thinking how cool I was, and then I saw these pictures. Something tells me that assuming a stance with feet shoulder length apart with a swayback arch isn't exactly good form. Then again, who's gonna tell a woman with a loaded gun she doesn't "look quite right"? (hehe)

I had recycling on the brain, our targets were water-filled 2-liter bottles. On the ground. That part didn't thrill me, but since there were cows in the pasture...high dollar registered cattle--I didn't balk. For some reason, my hit ratio improved with a stationery target.

Later that day my shoulder was sore and it slowly dawned on me: I was bruised from the shotgun kicking back. That just made my day. It was kind of a pathetic "badge of honor", a cheap thrill, for a middle-aged mom.

My appetite has been whetted...I'm ready to play again....anyone game??

He gave....

May you delight in the beauty, generosity and expectancy of Christmas throughout this season.

Merry Christmas, friends :).

(Note: I wrote this post early this week because I knew my weekend was going to spin about 1,000 rpm.....and it is ;)....PLUS, what I didn't know, I am VERY computer impaired, and pretty doggone thankful I wrote this post in advance, because it's a very important one and I probably wouldn't have been able to link everything I wanted and post pictures otherwise.

In follow-up to yesterday's post, I have a million replies, just not able to think anything though right now :)...still, thank each of you for your kind words, thoughts and prayers. Figured I should post this...disclaimer??? explanation??? so y'all wouldn't think I was totally manic and bi-polar....I prefer to call it...hmmmm...ah, yes, as my husband says..."I'm a complicated woman." Gotta run, this borrowed computer has to go back to its rightful owner. Toodles!)


All you wanted to know and then some, right here :) Festivus is my favorite fake holiday of them all!

Get your own Festivus Pole here.

You can order Festivus Wine here.

Ah, yes, capitalism at its best--only in America can you make money off a show about nothing!

Before I begin writing, you have the courtesy of a warning. There are squillions of warm and fuzzy, festive and funny, light and nostalgic, spiritual and thought-provoking blog posts waiting to be read. This is not one of them. This is one of those times I long for a real pensieve, so I could empty my mind...and heart...of heavy thoughts; not to forget them, just to store them away for a time when there weren't so many of them.

For over a week, I've been painfully reminded that Christmas is not a happy time for many people. Perhaps in their own childhood, there was abuse or neglect, or maybe it was a simple case of parents so caught up in the trappings of the season, it held no meaning or circumstance apart from excessive materialism, which ultimiately breeds discontent. For others, perhaps loss of a loved one leaves them feeling lonely and in grief. There are a million scenarios with just as many sad circumstances, and several of these have hit very close to home.

My former pastor lost his wife this Spring to leukemia. She was also a good friend to me. Married for over 30 years, she LOVED Christmas, her home was decorated from roof to, I imagine, basement. Think Griswolds, lol. There wasn't a room in their house that didn't have some kind of Christmas icon, a gazillion Santa Clauses, which I always thought funny. She hosted parties for anyone and everyone because that fed her soul; and a tradition for me and my children was to visit them each season, mainly to look at her Christmas village. Because they had pastored for years, they had many friends in many places; everyone knew Anne loved Christmas, and whenever they were looking for a gift to give her, they'd choose a piece of this village for her. Her family must've done the same. It was the most extensive city I've ever seen before, she had more pieces than most stores who sell the stuff--MOVING pieces, too. Carousels and ice skating rinks and I think Santa with a sleigh flying around. My kids loved it, and their Christmas train, too. This will be Shelton's (and their adult children and grandchildren) first Christmas without her. He's been on my mind a lot. They were more than pastor and wife to our family, they invited us into their lives.

Then, there's Sandy and Alice. Their husbands left them last week. LAST WEEK! :( These are not close friends of mine, but they are in my "sphere" and they are friends. Between the two of them, they have six children. In one case, it's been coming for a long time; but in the other, total shock (at least publically). My heart BREAKS for these women who are dying on the inside, who don't want this to be happening, who are helpless to stop it. I'm sure they are shell-shocked and going through the motions for the sake of their children. Their children...their babies...who most certainly are not having a "merry Christmas" and will possibly be over-indulged with "things" to compensate for this loss of daddy. Maybe not, but I could see it. How could these husbands--FATHERS--leave their families NOW? Whatever happened last weekend, didn't just happen then, why couldn't they suck it up for the sake of their kids? It infuriates me and grieves me.

Similarly, we received a Christmas card from one of my dearest friends this week. It was she and her two children. Her divorce is in the final stages, and the absence of her husband in the picture was a visual reminder that her marriage is almost dead. I know my friend, I KNOW what she was thinking when that photograph was taken; I can imagine what was going through her children's minds. Their eyes bespoke sadness, I wonder if anyone else sees that.

Then there's my friend, Teresa. I've written about her before, one of my earliest posts. I wish I could say I've spent more time with her the past year than I have; it's easy not to make time for her. Recently, she's been back in the hospital, twice in the past three weeks. They're poor. They're renting a home and have the bare essentials. We've been in touch lately because I can't bear the thought of her daughter not having gifts for Christmas (she's 14). What Teresa wants to get for her daughter is not excessive; it's not socks and underwear, but it's not too far removed from that. The Christmas money she had was stolen when she was admitted to the hospital last week. Barely able to speak, she called me, frantic. That part can be fixed; what can't be is Teresa's health. She's been given--her "best" case scenario--a two-year life sentence. While she was in the hospital this time, I asked her if they had a Christmas tree. Again, I'm looking at what we have, and I'm reminded of what they don't. Her reply? She had splurged on a $29 pre-lit tree (a 60% off bargain), and she was pleased--"We've come a long way from last year, last year we didn't even have one" (they were in a motel at the time). When I asked her what we could do for her, she just asked for my friendship, she needed a friend to help encourage her when she was down; she's also trying to stop smoking and asked me to hold her accountable. She's held onto that because it's the one thing in her life she can control, it's her way of "giving the finger" to her plight. I'd probably smoke, too, if I was her.

These are some of the biggies, there are other "lesser" things going on around me, lesser only in comparison, not because they aren't significant.

I'm a positive person, always looking for the good in people and circumstance. It's my modus operandi. I believe Romans 8:28 with all my heart. I believe there's an ebb and flow to life described beautifully and familiarly in Ecclesiastes 3.

But this week, I started "sinking". I figured it was due from the weight of the above, but then it occurred to me it was more than that. One year ago today, while I was visiting my father in the hospital, the doctor unexpectedly told us he was in his dying hours...that "this" was it...that he wouldn't make it to Christmas. Daddy was in good physical health, but having been diagnosed with Alzheimer's summer before last, his mental health was not good. That being said, he was fully functioning, even driving (yikes!), prior to the hospital ER giving him a dose of seroquel that his body had an adverse reaction to, leading to a chain of events that almost killed him. It appears he actually has Lewy Bodies Disease, the second most common form of dementia behind Alzheimers, but an important distinction because of the patient's likely adverse reaction to "typical" drugs used to treat the symptoms of Alzheimers.

We reeled under the news of my father's impending death, it was a shock. My sister and brother drove to meet me and his wife at the hospital, and we all had the opportunity to tell him "good-bye". Looking back, I can't help but smile, I swear we looked like a bad made-for-tv-movie, each one of us telling him the cliche things you're supposed to tell someone in these circumstances, for us, they fit (and of course, it was very personal). As the night progressed, Daddy began to improve. By improve, I mean gaining consciousness and talking out of his mind, trying desperately to carry on conversation with us, but making no sense, eventually entertaining us with his insanity and inappropriateness. We cried oceans that day; first from grief, eventually, from hilarity. A surreal day from start to finish.

That was a year ago today. He didn't die, not physically, anyway. But that would have been a much kinder fate than the year we all have endured. He has had to have 24-hour care for a year. For ten months, we had caregivers with him and his wife in their home, with my siblings and I helping as often as we could. As I've written before, I thought it a rather noble and romantic notion for parent and child to reverse roles until I lived it, but there is nothing romantic about a daughter caring for her father. I hope with all my heart he isn't aware of the indiginities he's had to suffer; at times he expressed embarrassment, but you never know how much he understands.

It has become to much for him to remain at home, even with 24-hour care. For the past two months he's been in a specialized senior mental health facility, for the purpose of regulating his behavior with meds so he would be stable enough for nursing home admittance. I can barely type that, hate doesn't begin to express how I feel about this, despising him having to do this. He would hate this. It's a horrible end of life. The mercy for him...and us...would have been for him to have died a year ago today. Death is not the worst thing that can happen sometimes.

Last night I received a despondent call from sister, then later his wife. It seems the facility wants him out TODAY and they've given us no notice. They're saying they found a place that will take him, but it's over five hours from his family, eight from me. All of a sudden everything is in fast gear and feels like it's spinning out of control and I can't do a thing about it. Their social worker told us he had been declined over a dozen times due to his behavior (he's agitated and acts out at times) or lack of beds, but his wife discovered at least two places had either not processed his paperwork, or didn't have it at all (she called to inquire herself). So either this social worker isn't doing her job or she's lying. I wish I knew the whole story, something is not adding up. In spite of a post I wrote a long, long time ago, there remains no good answer for his situation.

There are positives, at least he can afford to pay for his healthcare, something most people, I imagine, in his circumstances are not able to do. I've tried to seek God through the circumstance; I've prayed that as I come into contact with people that I wouldn't normally apart from Daddy's illness, I would reflect Christ in how I respond to them (sometimes that means I might be the only "Jesus" they ever see...). I've prayed God would continue to shape and transform ME through these crappy circumstances....

Anyway, I was already sinking before I got those calls.... I've found it "better" to be concerned about others, than to slow down and think about myself, but it catches up eventually I suppose. I've been in one of my insomnia phases, that's gotta be a contributer to my altered state of mind, too--every night for maybe a week I wake up at 3 and can't fall back asleep.... I envy those who sleep all night, lol, one of those things I've come to appreciate in my 40s, that I never knew you SHOULD appreciate...:).

It's early...still dark outside. And raining, I do love a good rain, but this morning it personifies my spirit.

Stephen will be up soon, and we're off to see Santa, creepy or not. It'll do me good, that kid is STILL so excited in spite of his new-found knowledge this year. I don't get it, but I love it.

If you read this far, and honestly, I can't imagine anyone doing so, I'm fine...I'll be fine. I don't sink long and writing it has already made me feel better. If you are a person of faith, I would appreciate your prayers for Shelton...and Sandy...and Alice...and Teresa...and their families. And, oh, yeah...for me. :)

As a Christmas procrastinator extraordinaire, I am most thankful for little-girl-Robin, who wrote today's post over three decades ago. She must have known that in the future, I would put off whatever I could until the last minute, and then cram as much in as possible in a single day. I wish I had found her buried treasure in college; it might've helped me out a time or two when I was on a deadline.

This is vintage me: I waited until this week to photograph my children for a picture to send out with Christmas cards (which one of y'all had hers addressed in freakin' NOVEMBER and was worried about sending them out too soon?? smack, smack! ;) ). Murphey's Law is raging in these parts...BOTH our digital cameras are on the blitz :( (I really NEEDED to win Ree's little competition) and although I tried to take pictures, Rachel AND Thomas are sick, add in two sick cameras, and I got nothin'. Nada. Blurry, red-eyed nightmares, kids AND photographs themselves (lol). Soooo, I scrolled through some beach pictures and chose one where they're all genuinely happy, even though it's not what I'd really like to send out (you know, the "perfect" perfectly-staged fake-smile-so-mom-will-hurry-up-when-they're-annoying-the-snot- outta- each-other-between-clicks shot). I had copies made today, the cards hopefully will go out BEFORE Christmas, but most won't likely make it until after. Have I mentioned I haven't even begun addressing them?

You might ask, "Why bother?". Tad did. This is one of those things I'm SURE drive him crazy about me (it drives ME crazy about me!). But....I LOVE to receive cards from old friends, especially those who live out of town--it's our way of seeing their children grow up. A lot changes in a year. And I really don't care if they arrive in December or in time for Groundhog Day.

So, once I post, you'll know what I'm up to--some of which I bet y'all are up to, some of which you've already done...wrapping presents, cooking goodies, completing Christmas cards and maybe cleaning (ha! now THAT'S likely...about as much as a white Christmas in the Tennefreakinsee Valley!).

So, without further pontification about the minutia of my life, here are a few excerpts from my little book. Obviously, we were to write stories with a moral; just as obvious, I didn't mind plagiarizing. These might be funny only to me, but if you're looking for at least a smile (as you remember your own elementary creative writing assignments), I hope you find one.

...Thomas cried for the hour following his visit to Santa's lap, totally traumatized by the fat scary man with white hair, long beard, and strange clothes. Although Thomas WAS a character from the womb-to-this-day, he did not LIKE characters of any sort. At Chuck E Cheese, he closed his eyes when Chuck E appeared; Thomas very much believed "If I can't see you, you don't exist". At amusement parks, if strolling characters came within 20 feet invaded his "personal bubble", he clung to me like white on rice, closed his eyes and wailed like a banshee. So, it only makes sense he'd react to Santa Claus the same way, right?

So, keenly aware of his aversion to pretend people or beasts, why would I put this poor child through this ordeal?

Because I'm a mother, that's why, and we have certain rights...like photo opportunities. And because at this same age, Rachel cried at the sight of Santa and I didn't MAKE HER SUCK IT UP have her picture taken with him that year--to this day, I regret it. I wasn't about to let another Santa photo opp pass me by, regardless of the consequence. I'm sure Santa was thrilled, of course I had to snap several pictures.

This remains one of my favorite pictures of them...just look at the expression on Rachel's face, lol. Wonder what she was thinking?

Here's another favorite Christmas photo. Rachel's lips are pursed and juicy because she was kissing the angels in her arms. Rachel got away with murder when she was little, her way around "not" touching breakable things was to kiss them. Who could say "no" when she'd toddle-speak, "But I juss wanna tiss dem"?? Those are very nice Lee Middleton dolls...I bought the girl angel before Rachel was born, the companion boy version after. I've never played with or collected dolls (I loved stuffed animals as a child, not dollies, except for the Barbie phase....), but when I saw that doll, I had to have it. HAD TO! $130 later, it was mine, and I still can't believe I plunked down that chunk of change for a doll......not just once, but TWICE!

Anyway, that's beside the point, lol. I captured that look in between kisses, she always handled special things with tenderness and affection....because she wanted to make daggum sure she'd get to "tiss" the next pretty thing she wanted to get her chubby little girl hands on. I don't think I ever said "no" and remarkably, she never broke a thing.

....but I got to play her in my preschool nursery program. It's interesting to me now that I wasn't cast as an angel; even at the tender age of four, I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. They sang "Silent Night"...I was silent.

I had forgotten about this, but when I got bogged down with my doing anything...EVERYTHING BUT cleaning, I found this clipping. And it brought back some of my earliest childhood memories. I REMEMBER throwing hay at "Joseph". The short wise man to my right was my high school sweetie. We didn't realize we had known each other as preschoolers when we began dating in high school, I'm not sure at what point we discovered we were destined for each other from our earliest years. Which reminds me, we were supposed to get married September 17, 1985. It was on a Tuesday, but I didn't care, I chose it because I "liked" the date....whatever THAT means. Sounds "so high school".

Wanna hear something really....odd? As much as it touches my heart to see this, in spite of the fact my heart EXPLODED when my own daughter was cast to play Mary a few years ago, I think these re-enactments profane the truth. They sanitize it and make it a "cute", one-dimensional event, rather than the amazing, painful, smelly, uncertain, bloody, lonely, time-defining, incomparable, life-giving MIRACLE it was.

And still is.

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. The Gospel of Luke 2:4~20

Of all the posts I've written, I cannot believe these "comments" were left at this one :(! It INFURIATES me that I HAVE to re-enable word verification. Hate is not within me, but if it was, vermin like these people who troll blogs (or create bots to do their dirty work for them) and comment TRASH would be at the top of my list. They are among the lowest of life forms, barely above men who abuse their wives and children, and pedophiles.

Just in case any additional pondscum find their way to my blog, I've broken all the links.

101 free s$x positions

an$l g$rl le$b$an s$x

as$an g$rls get f$#%ed

thank
Bjorn Steinhauer

This....grieves me.

I've written several posts in the past about how our actions affect others, the power of influence, sometimes, when we don't even know it. Here's a quickie, that if it motivates one person to do something differently, I would be thrilled. If two people respond, well then, I'll turn a cartwheel. Three? I'll make something very chocolicious! AND SHARE :).

For her birthday, Karmyn asked her readers to extend a random act of kindness to others. Recently, Mary/Mert did something for me, in spite of the fact she's recovering from surgery and she's had sick babies:(. She designed a blinkie for me and Swampwitch for our recycling challenge, aka S.P.E.A.R. 2007. Lookie here:



Isn't it the dandiest? If you're taking part in our challenge, please feel free to pick it up to bling your sidebar with a little green :). (Email me if cutting and pasting doesn't work...). And for heaven's sake, whether or not you're "participating", Just do SOMETHING!! One thing is better than NOTHING, right? Baby steps, not giant leaps (for us recycling newbies). We're not trying to solve world hunger...it's more like feeding your neighbor.

And your actions WILL affect others, maybe ever-so-slightly, but at least positively.

THANKS TO MERT for her generosity of time...SHE ROCKS!

...please, pretty-please "please", with chocolate and whipped cream and cherries and what-ever-cranks- your-motor PLEASE click over to Karmyn's and tell her "Happy Not-40th Birthday"? And then give her the present she asks for?

"For my Birthday Present, I am asking EVERYONE to please go out and perform a Random Act of Kindness....Even if that means giving your extra change to the Salvation Army Bucket - DO IT! Then tell me what you did. That would mean a lot to me."

Seems like lots of people would receive a present if you do what she asks :).

Then, pop over to the Blogging Chicks Carnival at OwlHaven, click and leave the girls a comment.

Merci, mes amies!

...I have suspended WV for the time being. Commenting is difficult enough these days. I'm taking a queue from Susan and I guess if spammers or freaky people start posting, it'll be re-enabled. Blogger is TICKING me off because it keeps saying my Beta is "ready" for me, but when I tried to switch, it won't let me, I'm guessing because of my fabulouso design :/.

I've gotta do something...soon. It's not fun when blogging becomes a hassle.

And, thanks to Pam for emailing to tell me she TRIED to comment, and to Pamela who put into practice, "If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try, try, try, try....again."

Miss y'all. Mean it. ;)

Although this does not follow the syllabic "formula" for cinquain, it does follow the general form:

First Line: (2 syllables) One word, giving title
Second Line: (4 syllables) Two words, describing title
Third Line: (6 syllables) Three words, expressing action
Fourth Line: (8 syllables) Four words, expressing a feeling
Fifth Line: (2 syllables) Another word for the title.

What intrigues me is my choice of subject as a fourth grader--all four represent sources of inspiration for me now: creation, people, creatures & beasts, spirituality.

The "Karen" mentioned in the second poem was a student teacher; she was the "brain" behind this writing project. I had a crush on her, I still remember how SWEET she was, and for the longest time, I wanted to be a teacher so I could be like her. Gosh, I wish I knew where she was so I could thank her for this book of mine.

Next up, we'll look at some stories with morals.

When we go to France and eat in little bistros, and sample local wines, this is what you must call me. I will answer.

Your French Name is:

Audrey Charette

~ Merci :)

You are

Under the category of ENTIRELY TMI, this is so freaking true it's not even funny. Except, to me, it was hilarious! The only question asked is what color underwear you're wearing.

Someone at Blogthings is three shades of messed up. Maybe I'll apply for a job ;).

While I was sucking time looking for some very important pictures when I was supposed to be cleaning and decorating my house, these are some gems I mined, priceless treasures from my youth.

Fine Art: A lovely yarn-moulded, tin foil relief














I am rather certain I got the picture of this bird off some kind of "ladies product", but for the life of me, I can't remember what now. It was not Dove soap, it was something more personal, like maxi pads or birth control or something. I remember hoping no one would recognize where I got it.

This is one of my FAVORITE childhood pictures...most of them aren't nearly this stinkin' adorable, and because this one is, I'm not at all above stating the obvious. That cutie-patootie could have sold doll babies or Easy Bakes or something. This is when chubby really IS cute.


Ahhh, but this...THIS...is chock FULL of blog fodder. Apparently, I was quite "touched" gifted as a precocious nine-year-old. Too bad the original cover art disintegrated. I'm sure it was spectacular judging from what lies beneath.


Stay tuned...reading this stuff, I realize my drama-queeness-exhibitionism came very early in life. My mama was sick...I was a middle child. I had to do something for attention. Reading it again, I laughed until I cried. Love it when that happens.

My husband has commented to my blog a total of two times --anonymously-- since I gave him "permission" to read it, which was over six months AFTER I began writing. Until that time, I wrote in complete obscurity. I always wrote as if I were being read, but no one had my URL (except for Blogger bloggers who hit the scroll when I updated, clearly, an accident). I think I lurked around the blogosphere, lacking confidence to throw in my two cents anywhere, but honestly, it's hard to remember now. The first comment I ever received was from an Irish blogger, which I thought was pretty cool. Still do.

I know he reads me and he's tried to post a few more times, but that pesky word verification sends him back into hiding, scampering for cover. Word verifications can be vewry scawry for blogger neophytes that way. I've removed it a few times, but every time I do THAT, vewry scawry comments find their way to the ol' Pensieve, so, I'd rather do without a few comments then invite spammers.

The other thing I know about my husband is he bores easily when it comes to reading. If he sees a long post, he moves along. So, you see? I'm trying to make this post long before I get to the point of it, in the hopes that he'll stop before he finds out what I've been up to since he's been gone. Conniving, aren't I?

#1) I stay up waaaaay too late. This makes perfect sense: I'll be so dead-dog- tired when finally snuggling under the covers, when the robbers and axe murderers break in, I'll be house-ransacked, broke and dead before I know what hit me. Relatively painless. That is, if they get past our trained pet rottweiller, MaimMe, video surveillance, and the .45 parked by my bed. Did I mention before kids I worked as a police officer and was repeatedly recognized for my razor-sharp reflexes and shooting skill? Nothing left of the bullseye when my smokin' pistol twirled back into its holster.

#2) I seem to blog more...writing, not reading. Must be tied to #1 somehow.

#3) I create MORE work by cleaning my house. In all things related to weather, it's the "calm before the storm"; in all things related to my housekeeping skills--which are quite the opposite of my firearm skills--it's the "storm before the calm". It gets worse before it gets better. Don't believe me? Take a look.

These are most of the bags and boxes our Christmas decorations are stored in. This is what you might call a "staging" area. In about an hour, all of this junk will be tucked away in the attic, and Tad will never know it sat here for two days. It doesn't bother me a bit, nor the children, but the cat is getting kind of twitchy. She naps on this sofa. But don't tell Tad. (She's was behind the big red bag on the right when I snapped this shot.)Our upstairs is not decorated, except for Stephen's room...he has a two-foot Christmas tree and various Christmas statues. I love this about him.

Next, this basket of laundry has sat here since Monday as well. Apparently we have enough clean underwear and towels without putting it away. That will be done after the above-mentioned boxes are in the attic. The way I see it, at least the laundry is FOLDED! At least it hasn't sat in the dryer--or heaven forbid, the washer, cultivating a nice mildew crop!

I saved the best/worst for last--a picture of pictures. THIS is where I got bogged down. THIS little exercise sucked more time than me blogging.

Why? you ask. Because I'm looking for a specific picture, no, make that two pictures. And can't find them. BECAUSE ALL MY PICTURES ARE IN BOXES INSTEAD OF PHOTO ALBUMS OR SCRAPBOOKS BECAUSE I WAS BORN WITHOUT THE GENE THAT COMPELS ME TO ORGANIZE THEM NEATLY, ORDERLY AND IN A MANNER WHICH NOT ONLY RECORDS HISTORY, BUT ALLOWS ME TO FIND WHAT I'M FREAKIN' LOOKING FOR IN MINUTES, NOT HOURS...OR DAYS...OR NEVAH! I was BORN with this affliction. It most certainly is NOT my fault!

Whew! Give the girl some more COFFEE! She's twitchier than the cat!!

I did not find the pictures; if/when I do, they will be blogged, and as you know, linked back to this post. I hope I can find them, although it's probably "better" in my memory than it is in actuality. Whatever, it'll make some fun stories to write. The John-Lennon-look-alike pic perhaps less so than the painted-up-hussy one.

The GOOD thing, for me, is I found some fabuloso material for future posts. In fact, I'm gonna go take care of those boxes and laundry, and possibly write some more today.

Because, tonight Tad comes home. And I'll get back to "normal". And not blog binge...or stay up so late...or "clean" like a tornado;) (for you, Pete)(CLARIFICATION: I am NOT cleaning for Willowtree, the reference to "cleaning like a tornado" was a nod to an earlier rant post of his this week!!!!). I'll stop being so self absorbed in writing and actually read some! (And for the record, I haven't been able to post comments to Beta bloggers--not for lack of trying and then trying again--so I finally gave up reading anybody! Too durn frustrating.)

If I'm lucky, Tad glazed over after reading the first two paragraphs and he'll never know that a train's been through our house :).

I constantly channel surf the radio in my car. Why listen to commercials or crapola, when 12 pre-sets and six CDs eagerly await their turn with a press of a button? Goodness knows, I'm lyrics impaired--outside of "The Alphabet Song" and "Happy Birthday", I'm sure to butcher the words to just about every song I know. This is why I bow to Cheeky's prowess. That girl knows the word to every song written since 1970- something. Or at least she sounds like she does, the way she shucks & jives all the time (ha!). The ability to Google lyrics is something I should record in our Thankful Box. Then, again, what I usually come up with is much more imaginative :).

This morning I was hip-hoppin' with Toby Mac in "Made to Love", spinning from "Night Fever" with the Bee Gees, and head-banging with "Mr. Brightside".

And I still contend I am the most sane insane person you will ever meet. I just have eclectic music tastes.

Tad made a quick trip to GOD'S COUNTRY South Carolina this week, and we contemplated my tagging along. His days would be occupied with work, and I would've been cut loose to visit family, lunch with friends, Christmas shop, and basically be released from the demands of home, freed from the bondage of what "needed" to get done. Nights would be ours;).

Historically, childcare has been an issue, we have no family nearby. Perhaps one of the things for which we are most thankful are a few friends here who gladly care for our children, allowing us occasional getaways. We love our babies, but we love our time away. Personally, I think it allows us to love our babies even better (not "more", just better).

At the last minute, we decided for me to stay home. There's work still to be completed on the bathroom renovation (did you forget about it? How could I?? I'm still living out of an overnight bag!), I have some fun things planned later in the week, we're hosting a Christmas party Saturday night, and I STILL have to finish putting out our Christmas decorations. I'm as slow as a snail when it comes to this, I decorate like I clean: start. stop. here. there....an ADHA child when it comes to matters of housekeeping and decorating (and probably a host of other things "to do").

Tad had been gone less than four hours when the first "crisis" occurred, and I could not have been more thankful for remaining home. There have been two so far, and I'm praying there's not a third.

This goes with "Providence" in the post title. Once I began writing, this got so long, I needed a break. I'll come back later to write the "Irony" part... for now, read this and weep, I am.

[1] Shortly after we arrived home from school yesterday, Thomas rushed into the house with a panicked look on his face. "Mom! Help! Stephen just asked if Santa Claus was real!"

This is when I despise the "honesty police" that lives within me; when asked a direct question, I'll give you a direct answer, and it might not be the one you want to hear--I sooo wish I could just give you the one you want to hear sometimes. But if I think you "look fat in those pants" or your haircut looks ridiculous, or I don't wanna eat at the restaurant you suggested, you'll know it. Don't ask if you don't wanna hear Robin's version of the truth. I'm kind in response, I try to spin it nicely, but if you listen, you'll hear what I'm saying. I've been accused of being brutal (which, to me, is both a curse and a compliment).

So, my advice to Thomas was to throw the question back to Stephen, to ask him what HE thought. Thomas had already done that. I told him if Stephen persisted, to encourage him to ask me or Tad and we'd handle it.

Sometimes Thomas' sweetness balms my soul. He was aching for Stephen himself, realizing that his little brother was "growing up", and even he wanted him to still believe in Santa Claus. "I just feel so bad for him, I don't want him to know," and he meant it. I asked Thomas if Stephen mentioned kids talking about it at school, but he said Stephen had simply concluded "there was no way Santa could live forever...." I don't know why I thought Thomas might be waiting for opportunity to bust Stephen's bubble about this, I guess as one of four siblings, I know kids can be cruel for sport. I had a great friendship with my siblings, but when I was that age, I messed with their minds when given the chance.

Thomas returned to shooting hoops, and not two minutes later, Stephen was in the house. He looked like he had seen a ghost. "Mom, I have kind of a random question. Is Santa Clause...." before he could finish his sentence, as he saw the solemness of my expression, he knew the answer before I could respond. He collapsed into my lap, unable to hold back his tears, my mommy-heart crying in silent unison. I was rendered speechless...every thought I had was trite, cliché, pointless. The only comfort I could give was to smother him in my arms and let him cry...let him be a little boy who mourned this coming-of-age moment...my child who, out of everyone in our family, most delighted in the MAGIC of Christmas...HE was the first to retrieve his ornaments from the attic, HE was the one who helped me unpack our decorations, HE is the one who dug through another storage area to pull out our collection of Christmas books, HE prided in arranging our crèches, HE's the one who waters the tree...are you getting a picture of why this breaks my heart? This MATTERED to him. He's nine, which is kind of old to still believe (especially with an older brother and sister), yet he wasn't embarrassed or self conscious to ask when we were going to visit Santa.

I wasn't about to pontificate "the true meaning of Christmas" to him, or stress the spiritual dimensions of the holiday. To me, that would be cruel...manipulative...a guilt inducer for something for which he had no reason to feel guilty. He knows all that, he didn't need a reminder.

I imagine there will be those who google how to respond to this question. Sadly, no pearls of wisdom from me, no wise and masterfully articulated, "Yes,Virginia,there is a Santa Claus". Just the freedom for him to cry it out while he came to terms with the truth, in the safety and security of an embrace that quietly--but most assuredly--ministered "love". I am beyond thankful I was home to field this question.

Which, even Stephen knows, matters more than Santa.

After he said his prayers and I kissed him good night last night, as I was leaving his room, he asked, "Can we still go see Santa Claus?" You betcha:)!


If you're visiting from a Jenny's "Naked & Free" post, I'd love to hear your thoughts, too. And thanks for letting me "get naked" with you....

Okay, okay, my apologies to David Sedaris...although I've never read him, I like the title of that book, and from reviews I HAVE read, I'd probably enjoy it. With all Swampy's inferences to "trash talkin'", it's the phrase that kept running through my mind for a post title for my next entry in our recycling series. So, there ya go, it's how I think.

Through a blogger chain of events, we've begun SPEAR 2007, a challenge to begin recylcing in our own homes, with an invitation for YOU to join us. Thanks for your feedback so far; it's encouraging to hear your thoughts.

Beginning can be daunting. I've begun researching information and statistics related to recycling, and you can imagine the zillions and zillions of sites out there! Too much to process, too much to read. It's best to remember Rome wasn't built in a day. We're having to establish NEW habits, and rather than trying to "build a city", we're simply "redecorating a home".

I thought it interesting that at EXATLY the same time Swampwitch and I were exchanging thoughts about this challenge, I noticed a recycle logo on a Target bag. These are simple tips for reusing grocery bags, the type suggestion that will keep this challenge manageable. They're all common sense, but sometimes it helps to have it s-p-e-l-l-e-d out for ya. If you aren't already doing these, why not put some of these into practice today?
1) Tiny trashcan liner
2) Doggy duty
3) Water balloon (yikes!)
4) Roadtrip Rubbish (might I add barf bag??)
5) Soggy laundry
6) Ice pack for head lump
7) Toiletry Tote (who needs a cute little Vera Bradley or Kate Spade case for such?)
8) Kitty litter liner
9) Tomorrow's lunchbag
10) Care package padding (I know, I know, it's not the same as Marnie's air-filled bags...!)

I've always thought I had LOTS of personality (very self-aware, you know), but never realized I had LOTS of personalitIES--of all the hilarious ways people managed to google and find my blog, this one takes the cake, it's even better than "pink leopard suitcases" or "what do bloody boogers mean?":

December 12th 2006

09:44:26 AM

openconversation.blogspot.com/2006/11/you-move-you-lose.html www.google.com/search?hl=en&lr=&q=multiple personalities cybil&btnG=Search

I don't need to read blogs. I don't need to write posts. For entertainment, I just need to read my stat checker!

Do I really sound like three shades of crazy when I write???? Wait...don't answer that! But do tell me your wackiest referral :).

P.S. Great...just GREAT! Now, I'm drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Look at this one (YIKES!)...and the search brought them HERE???

December 12th 2006

10:27:39 AM

openconversation.blogspot.com/2006/09/limerick-or-two.html search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=What are the words to the lymerick%2C There once was a man from Nantucket%3F&FORM=MSNH

For the record, the post they hit was one of the most fun ones I've ever enjoyed, and no, no mention of the man from Nantucket. Check it out here--you will NOT want to skip the comments:)!

Man, I need to walk away from the light.......!

It's not about Kermit the Frog.
And it's not about Kermit the Frog hawking Ford Escape Hybrids (although the latter is closer than the former).

A few weeks ago, I wrote one of those Five Things You Probably Don't Know About Me posts. In it, I confessed with my tail between my legs admitted to not being a re-cycler and feeling guilty about it. We don't have curbside pick-up, anything we did would require effort, and although I'm not proud to admit it, the path of least resistance won out. We've done nothing...outside of me helping each one of my children construct some type of re-cycling class project over the past five years, which produced more mother-guilt, and I think, did more harm than good.

What do I mean by this? Lip service...hypocrisy...not reinforcing at home what was taught in the classroom. In matters of faith, this breeds a false and shallow religion which serves neither God nor man. In matters of life, this breeds a dangerous sort of duplicity, expousing a set of values where there's no substance or action to support them. If I agree with or believe what's being taught in the classroom, it's my role as a parent to reinforce it, to support it; I guess if I don't agree with it, to explain an alternate point of view and why I think differently. As my older children have entered middle school, I've encouraged their freedom to challenge and question subjective material; not to accept opinion as fact. It's family lore that my grandfather used to say "Don't believe anything you read or hear and only half of what you see" and my children are beginning to understand what I (he) mean by that.

The older I get, the more I appreciate the beauty of creation...the better I understand my role in its stewardship...the more clearly I see the ripple effect of my actions, not just relative to environment, but also to people. For the next 4-8 years, my best opportunity for changing the world is through my influence on my own children. If I "change" them, I'm changing the world. And I think this change begins with ME.

In the comments section of my "Five Things..." post, Swampwitch had this to say:

"I don't recycle either and I have great guilt about that. I think that will be my new project for 2007. If you'll do it, I'll do it... a challenge?"

Doing anything with the illustrious Swampwitch will be an adventure...just learning to translate her globberisms has been daunting. Here's her first post about our challenge; be sure to read this to get a better idea of who I'm in cahoots with! She's a hoot!

We're starting SPEAR 2007 early, because heaven forbid if it was a New Year's Resolution--THOSE are made to be BROKEN! Our goal is longer-term, lifestyle change, to become more aware of our action AND inaction, and to understand how both affect others. If you're already "green", thanks for doing your part to take care of Planet Earth. Share your tips and ideas (here and at Swampy's). Encourage us. Hold us accountable, and if necessary, smack us around;) If you've not yet hopped on the bandwagon, there's plenty of room to join us! Recycling is kind of like dieting or exercise--much more fun with a friend :).

So what are you waiting for? Prizes will be awarded. And there will be LOTS of winners :D.

The Blogging Chicks Carnival is being hosted this week by Rebecca at Of Making Many Books. The theme is Holiday Laughter/Laughter in General. I chose the latter because I didn't have to write anything new, and re-reading this post cracks me up every time.

My daughter told me there WAS much "lost in translation" :/. Maybe if you read it out loud, it'll be funnier. Either way, check out the other gals...it's something fun to do on a Sunday afternoon :).

...Instead, it was a STAY - AWAKE - ALL - NIGHT - OVER. For fourth graders.

The POSSESSED BEAST FOUL AND SURLY GARGOYLE grump that returns home is the host-mommy's payback for what she endured the previous evening. Why, it's the least she can do after filling your kid up with pizza and cake and ice cream (oh, my!). And overdosing on video games and air hockey and pool. Thanks. A lot.

Re-entry to humanity takes about 12 hours. After multiple naps (if you're lucky enough...today, we were).

Does the above look comfortable to YOU? Stephen crashed in Rachel's room and I'm certain he ended up in her chair because that is Callie's favorite napping spot. When we found him, Callie had escaped his snare and was sleeping comfortably on Rachel's bed. Stretched out, plenty of room, unlike her boy-owner.

I went back to check on him later, and he had disappeared from Rachel's room. I found him down the hall in his own, and at first, I thought he must have left his arms back at Rachel's. You'd think if the kid was trying to get more comfortable, he would've taken advantage of the fact he was on a BED. Maybe he sleepwalked (sleptwalked?) back to his room. Look closely at his face, he got creases in his cheek from the wrinkles in the fabric of the chair. At least he's fortunate enough NOT to have been drooling. He'd be super mad if I photographed that.

I was decorating our mantel while Christmas music decorated the air, when I saw him vertical again. Mr. Grump stomped into our den, with a not-so-happy look on his face. "Can you PLEASE cut that music DOWN? I can hear it all the way in my ROOM!" Actually, I don't think he asked that nicely. "What time did you say you went to sleep?" I asked. His tight-lipped reply? "I told you we didn't...maybe 5 minutes, I DON'T REMEMBER." As if that was in doubt.

Just like a mother, I patronizingly lovingly told him a shower would make him feel MUCH better, and brushing his teeth for the first time in 24 hours would make ME feel MUCH better; in return for my hug, he head-butted me.

By 8:00 p.m., showered, fed and watered, he was back to normal. Just in time for bed.

...so sue me.

In between a dozen loads of laundry today, I'm decorating my house. In between decorating my house, I'm reading blogs. In between reading blogs, I'm cleaning my house. In between cleaning house, I'm reading emails...and even responding to a few (the real ones, not the offers for fabulous stocks and cures for E-D, since I don't seem to have the latter problem). Since it is 18 degrees outside, I am drinking coffee while doing all of the above...wearing a cozy sweater and long-sleeved silky Cuddleduds and colorful wool socks. Mmmmmm on both of those last two accounts.

Great and talented multi-tasker. Perhaps one of them will ACTUALLY be completed .

When you give birth, I think God should sprout you another pair of arms (or at least hands!) for every kid you spawn. The imagery of an Octopus-handed Mother rivals Medusa's snakey hair. At least He gives us eyes in the back of our heads, that's something, I suppose.

Wowza....I sound like I'm smokin' pencil shavings (a wink and a nod to Julie and Ree for THAT one) or licking toads or something--NOT drinking coffee with absolutely no questionable add-ins!

"I'm a thief, I'm a thief"...WHAT was I getting ready to write??? PUH-LEASE, get on with it, Robin!

Here's a little samplin' of what I ran across this week from some of my favoritest peeps (and one I'm just getting to know). Some will make you laugh, I don't think any will make you cry, and some will give you pause to say "Hmmmmm." Enjoy :).

First, a quiz from Heather. I ended up in the same category as she did, but I KNOW she's much headier than I could ever hope to be. She plays the flute, for heaven's sake.

What Kind of Reader Are You? Your Result: Dedicated Reader You are always trying to find the time to get back to your book. You are convinced that the world would be a much better place if only everyone read more.
Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm
Literate Good Citizen
Book Snob
Fad Reader
Non-Reader
What Kind of Reader Are You? Create Your Own Quiz

What is it with me and "obsessive-compulsive" these days? I am NOT o-c! Hmmmph >:-(

Want a guaranteed LAUGH OUT LOUD? Click this NOW! I saw it at Marnie's first, but she got it from Shauna. You'll be schooled in how to mess with the telemarketers who get through your "Do Not Call" registry defense.

Carol always draws me in with her writing. Here she does a good job of articulating why I'm so conflicted this time of year. She writes beautifully and invitingly about her faith...she never sounds "religious", she always sounds REAL.

I haven't read a whole lot of Jenny's blog, but she's sassy and a hilarious blog commenter (should that be "an" hilarious?). This sure looks like a great cause. It just costs you 30 seconds to click to make a difference in someone else's life. Take the time, someone(s) will be grateful.

Last, but definitely not least, you have GOT TO read this from Real Live Preacher. GOT TO! Whether or not you're a Christian or a seeker or a pagan or a wiccan or WHATEVER. If you think church is staid and stuffy, you need to go to Texas to have that stereotype BUSTED! He'll be happy to oblige, I think. I've pimped for Gordon before...he STILL doesn't know me...and now I have a vested interest. Click this, scroll about 3/4 of the way down, and see if you can figure out why I'm pimpin' him now;).

Off to re-fill the coffee mug...and transform my house into something bright and shiny :).

The Swampwitch from Anecdotes, Antidotes & Anodes tagged me, and since she might have mystical powers, I thought I'd better post it quickly. It's shorter than the A-Z meme Carol (She Lives) hit me with, so it "wins" my attention first. Six things is 20 times easier than 26 things about me, even weird ones. I probably could've gotten away with re-posting my "Five Things You Probably Don't Know About Me" --they're all rather weird, but in the spirit of fun (and for a quick post), here goes this one:

1) I do not drive wearing shoes if at all possible. Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, doesn't matter. Pouring down rain, who cares? Snow...wait a second, I don't live where that is, only the perpetual grocery store-conspiratorial FAKE forecast the meteorological "much-ado-about-nothing-and-apparently- I-don't-know-how-to-do-my-job" forecast blizzard warnings which amount to 12 flakes a "storm", and even if it was 12 inches deep, I still wouldn't wear shoes (but then again, I wouldn't be driving...). I have arrived at my destination without shoes because of this. I tied up one of my kids, removed his shoes, and left him in the trunk (thank goodness all my children have feet close enough to the size of mine now). Groovy look. I haven't forgotten since.

2) When dining out, I HAVE to have lemon for ice water. That's not so weird, but once I squeeze out the juice, the slice CANNOT touch the water. Who knows whose hands have touched those lemons? And what "those hands" were doing before they sliced it? Ick Ick Ick! If they bring the water out with the lemon already in it, I usually drink it, but worry about what disease I might be introducing into my body. So far there doesn't appear to be any parasitic activity. The crazy thing is I'm not a germiphobe otherwise...my inconsistencies could be a "weird" post all on their own :/.

3) According to my husband, I spend more time taking care of my feet, than he does on his entire body. This involves daily pumicing and the regular application of lotion most days...and the irregular use of Bath & Body concentrated foot lotion and oh-so-cute booties. If I didn't do this, my feet would look like the picture at the right, and if that don't make ya gag, I don't know what will!

4) Self-delusion and denial are wonderful coping mechanisms. Do we ever see ourselves the way others do? Impossible, I think. Why do I begin #4 this way? In yesterday's post, I explained how my closet is organized when I finally get around to doing so. I also explained this did not demonstrate obsessive-compulsive tendencies. In comments, Willowtree deftly noted:

If read the wrong way these sentences seem to be contradictory.

"Note, I draw the line at alphabetizing my clothes, so this is not an O-C act. My sweaters seem happier living with sweaters, my pants delight in hanging around with their two-legged counterparts..."

What part of putting sweaters with sweaters and pants with pants is not alphabetizing? I would never suggest that this is an O-C act, as it is quite clearly an act of insanity.

Then Swampy herself said:

Alphabetizing clothes? Why haven't I thought of that? My spices are in ABC order, my catalogs are in ABC order, and now...my clothes?

OH! MY!! WORD!!! I alphabetize my spices, first according to brand, too! Crapola! I DO have O-C tendencies! Do I bless you or curse you for pointing out what I was oblivious to, but was (sadly) obvious to others?

5) With all my heart, with every fiber of my being, I BELIEVE I could go on Survivor AND WIN! In spite of the facts I am not athletic, well-traveled, or well-educated; I'm fearful of flying, scared of spiders, snakes and bugs (oh, my!), terrified of heights, and in addition to being extremely modest, I have an excruciatingly shy bladder and an even more performance-anxiety-riddled bowel. I can swim, however (you would not want to go into the ocean with me, for the afore-mentioned confession), and because of the above, I would not appear to be a threat. But with my cunning skills of deceit "spin" (I was a marketing professional in my other life), my engaging wit, and ability to play well with others, I'd be the one under the radar that they kept aboard until it was too late to unload me.

6) Give me any circumstance and I WILL find the good (and the God) in it. Maybe not right away, but always eventually. (I am thankful for this piece of "weird".)

I have no idea who to tag. I have been so negligent in reading my blogline-nistas, I have no idea who has done this and who has not. If it looks like fun to you and you have some WEIRD skeletons who are DYING to get outta the closet, PLEASE play along and comment back to me that yours is up--I promise to come over and leave some comment proving that I've read your list ;).

Geezaree, talk about a loaded question! Ask Answer it, and depending on what you say and how you say it, you might just earn a smack upside the head.

Let's talk "fat jeans", not "phat" jeans. The first one is not good. The second one is v e r y good.

This weekend I was on a tear and totally cleaned out our closet, my part, anyway. It's a decent sized walk-in, clothes can hang on three sides. To the right and left, there are two rows for hanging, dead ahead just one for full-length clothing, to accommodate my evening gowns and fur coats (ha!).

While I loathe this chore, the result is always worth it. Everything is sorted by Season first, then type, and I go so far as to arrange color, too. Note, I draw the line at alphabetizing my clothes, so this is not an O-C act. My sweaters seem happier living with sweaters, my pants delight in hanging around with their two-legged counterparts, and so on. Ahhh, yes...order to the universe, AND...I can actually find what I'm looking for.

The most difficult part of this exercise is purging. I feel like I owe my clothes some debt of gratitude or something, like I'm obligated to keep them until they wear out. This is both a stewardship issue (for me) and for some items, I've developed a weird relationship with them--I CAN'T get rid of them because of the emotional attachment.

Sometimes I'm a freak that way.

Yesterday morning, it was COLD for these parts, the lowest of the season. I needed heavy jeans, not a pair of some of my lighter weights. So, I grabbed a pair I knew I hadn't worn in a long time.

Apparently a VERY long time.

I pulled them on and almost immediately knew something was wrong. They were "heavy", yes, but my first thought was I had accidentally hung a pair of Tad's pants with my pants. I am used to a tighter fit, because, for the most part, they're DESIGNED to fit that way (and it doesn't hurt to have added 5 pounds, either). Not this pair, the legs were HUGE, there was room in the rear, and although the waistline was below my belly button, they felt like they were nearing my chin.

And then I realized what was going on.

I had on my "fat jeans", jeans that fit the first winter I lived in Tennessee, jeans that fit the last winter in South Carolina, JEANS THAT IN SPITE OF MY ADDED FIVE POUNDS DON'T FIT ANYMORE! WAAAHOOOO!!!

I almost took them off. But you know what? I kept 'em on. All day. They might not have looked good, but they felt good. It reminded me of where I was "then" and where I am "now"...not just literally, but figuratively as well. (Hmmm, now I'm punning all over the place! Call me a Pamela wannabe). Maybe fat jeans ARE the better choice. Everyone needs a pair that can cheer ya up like this :).

Hmmmm. Yessiree, I might not've looked phat on the outside, but I was all that--and more--on the inside!

Today I understood how Chuck Yeager must've felt when he broke the speed of sound, when no one knew it would result in what we now know and easily explain with a casual "Oh. A sonic boom." Except this had nothing to do with aircrafts or super-duper speeds or record-breaking flights or loud noises.

But it DID have to do with a moving vehicle, 25-30 mph speeds, a "first time" experience and an uproar from my family.

My baby...first born...only daughter...miiiieeee baaaay-beeeee --released from my womb just five minutes ago, but somehow now morphed into an inside-and-out beautiful 14-year-old young lady drove a car (well, a truck) for the first time today.

December 2, 2006. The day Napoleon was crowned emperor of France (1804)...and the U.S. Senate voted to condemn Republican senator Joseph R. McCarthy of Wisconsin for "conduct that tends to bring the Senate into dishonor and disrepute."(1954) ...and The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) was established (1970)...and perhaps, most notorious, the day Britney Spears was born (1981).

I'm thankful to have been present for every milestone in her life, although it horrors me to realize I can't remember all of them now. I remember being amazed at how well she nursed; so many of my friends and family had trouble with it they quickly gave up, but this tiny creature knew what she was doing as soon as given opportunity. I was certain she was a bona fide baby Einstein, the way EVERY first-time mom (and new dad!) deludes herself (barring complication); THIS for doing what comes as naturally as breathing and sleeping and peeing and pooping.

When she smiled ON PURPOSE at four weeks, in a moment's turn, I knew I had a new vocation and would not be returning to my former dream job. I wasn't one of those women who "just loved children" and counted the days until I could be home with them...this was a slow evolution for me. I recall a good friend offering a wise word of encouragement when I was struggling with insignificance...a scourge for the "professional" turned-stay-at-home mom--she simply reminded me I had been working in some capacity since high school, and this was a new phase of life...that I would actually have to learn how to be home with her. Somehow her matter-of-fact manner and assurance that it was o k a y to have to settle into this, made a huge difference.

I remember her first step at eight months--and her first stomp not long after. Obviously, an early walker, she was conversely a late talker. I worried, probably more about what other moms with children the same age thought, than about Rachel herself. That kind of thing just makes me sick now. I almost wince when I recall trying to coerce her (on more than one occasion) to "pray to receive Jesus in her heart" which I think now is neither scriptural nor what Jesus modeled himself. Her response? "Mom, I'm not ready...when I'm ready, I'll pray on my own." This wasn't a tween speaking, this was a five year old. And one day she told me she had prayed, and that was about all there was to it...imagine that, without my "help". :/

Jumping...riding a bike...learning to tie her shoes...turn a cartwheel...swim on swim team--and "win only the blue and red ribbons, not the pretty pink and green ones" (ha!)...brush her own hair, choose her own clothes, WIPE HER OWN BEHIND (a big "wahoo" and "amen" to that!). And read. And write. And WHATEVER! Gosh, if you have children, know some children, WERE a child, you KNOW all the milestones...I guess for me to reminisce is little more than a blogging Ambien to you.

But, if you have OLDER children, you know that as your children grow up, the milestones come fewer and farther between. Puberty. Driving. Dating. Voting. College. Legally drinking a glass of wine. A first "real" job. Marriage. Having a baby. Because there are fewer, their significance is magnified, perhaps even legitimately blown out of proportion.

But today. Today....

I wasn't with her. I missed it. She was with Tad. He mentioned he might let her try it (she won't be 15 til August, the legal driving age for a learner's permit in TN), but it really wasn't planned. I had a frustrating day of running the boys different places, frustrating more so because TWICE we got lost, and prior to that, were running late because the stuff we did early took longer than anticipated >:(. Minor, but annoying, and when it happens, I intimately understand "road rage"; if I'm not mistaken, my eyes turn red, my face turns green, horns sprout, and the thunderous, unrecognizable voice that bellows is not my own. My children become very, very quiet, I think they might even become invisible, they know it's best to let my fire burn itself out. They're all smart that way.

When Rachel called to tell me, the mother inside was shattered with a piercing sonic boom; I could feel the reverberations as every nerve in my body resisted this rite of passage. Time was spinning out of control, a familiar vertigo that knocked me off balance, unable to see into the future, only looking back. As I explained earlier, she WAS just born five minutes ago, I don't care if we've celebrated 14 birthdays. How in the world did we get "here" in 12 blinks of an eye? Of course, the mother on the outside squealed with delight wanting to know every detail. I could hear her flushed with excitement, usually reserved for the eyes, but this time "seen" through my ears. She had to repeat it three times, once for me, then Stephen, then Thomas. Interestingly, they both wanted to know if she drove "over the bridge" at the front of our neighborhood; the next thing they asked was what it was like to go over the speed bumps. Funny, the things they wanted to know. They're looking at her a bit differently now, with a reverence reserved for those lucky enough to have "d r i v e n a c a r". If I'm not mistaken, I see a bit of sister worship going on. I think she just progressed on Thomas' coolness radar, too.

And me? I'm writing about it so I can remember. The possibility of forgetting is enough to keep me up past midnight.

It's Friday. I want to write something of depth...I promise, several posts of substance have even been begun--most of which I even REMEMBER!...but the durn self-diagnosed A.D.D. is kicking in and I can't seem to go there. Can't seem to finish what I've started, which is a lot like how I clean house. And decorate for Christmas. And wash, fold, and put away laundry. I start something, get easily distracted (kind of like a cat or toddler), then move on to the next thing; not exactly forgetting what I was doing, just not completing the task right away. I mean, really, I'll get to it.................... eventually.

This drives Tad nuts and when he's hovering cracking the whip lighting a fire under my tail around to "encourage" me, I seem not to suffer quite so much from this damnable affliction.

With that in mind, and without further ado, since apparently, I'm queen of "ado", some random musings, in no particular order. (Should that be "adieu"?)

[1] Dannos Dangerous Mind has had some posts I liked over the past week or so. Xmas or Christmas might surprise some people, he has some great food for thought, he repeated a great list by Jim Martin on characteristics of graciousness, and, in keeping with my whole shallow thing I've got going on, my favorite was THIS! If you don't click any other links on this post, don't miss this one! Youtube continues to blow my mind!

[2] Vicki has a fun way to build her readership and it involves PRIZES! Just in time for Christmas, she's having a Mistletoe Giveaway to anyone who reads and comments to her blog (and is willing to send her an address she can mail some to you...tell her I sent you over...we're t i g h t). The kissin' count should go up in your household when your little green bouquet arrives!

[3] Callie, our calico cat, had an absess under her eye. We didn't know what it was, but were "watching it". It showed up Wednesday, and yesterday morning it was big...I figured a vet visit was in store today (yesterday I was gone most of the day). I didn't realize it, but Rachel left her inside (she's an outdoor/indoor kitty). On our way home from school, Rachel mentioned she had noticed "a little stream of blood" near the absess...AND SHE LEFT HER INSIDE??? When we got home, Callie met us at the door. Apparently, she was starving and needed to "relieve" herself. I picked her up first, though, to check out her eye...and the lump was gone. In its place was matted fur and a happier looking cat.

Uh, uh. She had been inside. And, my CSI training told me where she was. Without the aid of blacklights or dim-bulbed flashlights. On Rachel's bed :(. Yuck. Double yuck. Heebie jeebies. Cat blood and pus. Ranks up their with snot & boogers, maybe even higher. Man, I hate those three words!

[4] A BIG CONGRATULATIONS to Karmyn, on reaching her goal of writing 50,000 words in one month for National Novel Writing Month. Karmyn has been a loyal reader since I first went public with my blog, and I heart her. From afar. She might be a stalker, but if she is, she's a really cute one. PLUS, I NEVER thanked her publically for helping Stephen with a school project about Oregon. I keep waiting for his poster to come home so I can take a picture of it, but I think it's lost in the shuffle...or still on the wall, I'm not sure. Anyway, he thought it was cool one of my blogger friends helped him, so "Thank you, Karmyn, from both of us!"

[5] One of the questions in comments on my post about absolutely, positively NOTHING was regarding the phrase "In like Flynn"; I used it on a comment at Swampy's place. When I asked (after using the expression) "Who was Flynn", she commented an explanation on my blog. Willowtree was kind enough to correct her (also in comments), and since his explanation was... ahem... sexual in nature, and therefore I was skeptical, I checked it out. If the internet is reliable, and we all know it speaks only truth, looks like they're both RIGHT!

[6] I took a page outta Steve's book on the above-mentioned post. It had racked up quite a few comments, so I over-inflated the count by responding to everyone with their own response rather than a group one. He gets up to triple digits doing that. Me? well, there was a "three" in the number. Brilliant, sorta. Not that I am goverened by whether or not anyone comments (although sometimes I enjoy reading a long thread more than the original post itself...here, there, wherever!) Please be cautioned before clicking his link--his site is VERY PROFANE RAUNCHY VILE OFFENSIVE "adult" rated. I'm linking as a courtesy, since he gave me the idea and all. He has quite a following (Steve-O, I'd like it better minus a skillion fewer expletives :/...but I don't think I even hit the radar on your demographic...!) but I appreciate his few comments here remaining PG-rated...my kids do read me, after all. If you visit his place, enter at your own risk.

[7] What was I thinking? I can't end on "6"...what's "6"?? Now "7", "7" is special. And this special "7" is sending a shout out and a cyber hug to Mert, blogger of a thousand names. "Why?" you ask. Because she favorited me in Technorati. The one and only person who has. I'm feeling the love Mary/Mert/Boatanna (are they really all you or am I totally confused?). Now, what are YOU waiting on? I added the little button for your convenience (on my right sidebar, under "This and That"). Go, get to it! Leave a comment. Favorite my blog. It's all about me for the next 30 seconds....Aaannnnnnnnnnnnnndddddd, GO!

Ok, this is enough. For now. Til I feel deep and heady. Happy December, y'all!

I usually like these little quizzes. Not this time. But I had to post it anyway. It's a Seinfeld thing. Typically, I'd thank the person I stole lifted it from (in this case Left Coast Onlooker), instead, she just gets a link and a nod;). Hmmph...
>:(...me no likey the results....couldn't be less accurate.

Except I do like to throw things at people when their backs are turned.

Which Seinfeld character are you?

You're" the monkey! Take this quiz.

I suppose "she" coulda been a serial blog-stalker, wielding a bloody axe with a trail of body bags in her recent past...or a 37-year-old scary man sitting alone in his dimly-lit basement, hunched over a pc with a watery gleam in his bulging eyes, blogging under the guise of a winsom and delightful blog designer...! I guess that coulda been the case....

It's not my blogmates who freak me out with this kind of scenario, but my peeps IRL who love to make me second guess who each and everyone of you "are". In real life. When you aren't sitting here reading or writing or both.

Guess what, y'all?

Today I met Susie of the cyber-famous Bluebird Blogs, template designer extraordinaire, and creator of my oh-so-fashionable tiny corner of the blogoverse, PENSIEVE sweet PENSIEVE! Over lunch. Guess where? (note: I did not suggest the venue, she did...not that I minded ;) )

Truly, really, we didn't just meet so I'd have yet another excuse for changchangchangalicous eats; we discovered close to the end of our (ahem) "professional relationship" that we lived about half an hour from each other--HOW COOL IS THAT?? Ever since then, we've been working on our date, but first I went out of town, then she went out of town...you know the drill. Life, coming atcha, full steam.

So, today was THE day, and it was bloggerific :). She was exactly "who" I expected, NOTHING to do with body bags or covert "plans". Just a lovely lady with quite a talent. It was such a nice lunch date, we're already talking about the next one.

To add a bit of neato-torpedo to our meeting (and coincidence...at least to me, anyway) I was the 25,000 visitor to her personal blog. Seems I have quite the penchant for being a milestone-kind-of-gal.
Off to power clean...people (in real life) are coming over and I'll get to taste test the THIRD and final pound of my Folgers Gourmet, if I'm not mistaken, a Lively Columbian ;).

I was looking for a post I started a while back and saw this one begun in July. The original title was "Pins & Needles" and now I have no idea what I was going to write about.

Durn. It stops mid-sentence. Now I'm on pins & needles wondering what in the world the "point" was going to be. Remember that scene in Apollo 13 when

The fall colors were SPECTACULAR this year! There must've been the perfect combination of sun and rain, at just the right times, to produce such an inspiring show. Even Stephen noticed...on the way to school one day, unprompted by his waxing-poetic-mother, he said, "I like the Fall. It's so colorful." Thankful the kid notices the important stuff.

Here's a few shots of the Tennessee Valley, when I happened to have a camera nearby. Now, looking out my window, I just see a bunch of naked trees. I think a few of them are shivering in their roots.

Guess this is as good an explanation as any for Black Friday and mile-long lines at your favorite 'lectronics store :/.

Humorous, yeah, but it breaks my heart....

A while back I told y'all about a coffee samplin' I was asked to take part in. The fine folks at Folgers sent us out three pounds of their new gourmet blends, and the first one I reviewed was Morning Café (two thumbs up).

Last month we hosted a meeting in our home, and I thought, "Ah, ha! A captive audience for a coffee tasting..." so I made a pound cake and brewed a pot of Vanilla Biscotti. Well, it would've been a GREAT idea, except the meeting was for our kids' school, and one of the items on the agenda was a new "fundraiser", which was...you guessed it...selling coffee. That translates into me NOT being the only one present brewing on a mission. "They" brought about FOUR flavors for us to try. I had NO idea this "meeting" was little more than a ruse for pimpin' selling coffee in some way, shape or form, but what can you do?

So, out of common courtesy, I tasted their stash. It was okay, but remember, I'm Dunkin Donuts loyal no matter what, so it's hard to impress me. PLUS, because this is a school fundraiser, I think the cost was $12/pound? Maybe ten? Eight?? I don't remember now, but it was more than Folgers gourmet, AND more than our shop-by-mail Dunkin Donuts AND I'd much rather give a donation where the school would receive the entire gift, not $2-4 per pound.

Anyway, the GREAT part, seeing how I was "selling" coffee, too, or at the minimum soliciting opinion for blog fodder, is even the coffee neophytes (there are actually non coffee drinkers??) preferred the Folger's Vanilla Biscotti! Cool, huh? Personally, I don't prefer flavored coffees (ahem, unless you consider Splenda, sugar AND half & half "flavoring"), but this was GOOD! You should try it!

And the best part, ladies and gentlemen: You can try it for FREE! The down side is the freebie isn't three pounds' worth, but the upside is you don't need to worry about writing a review. Go ahead, click the link! Let me know what you think when you receive and try yours.

Kelly (Pass the Torch) tagged me, and since it's ever so short and sweet, by golly, I think I'm IT! Here goes:

1) I will not drink coffee with dessert. I might drink coffee FOR dessert, but NEVER accompanying it (I also never drink coffee with doughnuts, which for some, I suppose, is a version of morning dessert, especially if sprinkles are included).

2) Before I was old enough to gamble legally, I lost all the money I was given by my father I had gambling at a blackjack table in Vegas. Definite "buyer's remorse".

3) I don't recycle and have horrible guilt because of it.

4) I will buy something I don't need if it's 75% off. Although I HATE TO SHOP (which you DO know), I could easily be a bargain-shopaholic (I guess I am a recovering one of those :/).

5) Ugh...this one I despise...I finish only about 1/2 of the books I begin reading (hmmm, maybe this will become a 2007 Resolution....).

I'm tagging Karmyn since she could use an easy post while she's writing her novel (and before her mom tags her), Claudia because she could use a break in between all her class projects, and LCO, because she recently became a Blogging Chick.

We're at it again... playing in the hat department, this time not fancy ones, just $9 faux-fur toques (& scarves) at Target. This is our reward for shopping, because shopping to me and Rachel is torture. A necessary evil. Because she's 14 and had the audacity to grow three inches since this time last year....and when she says she needs some new clothes, "need" is the correct word, we aren't talking "want" here.

Apparently, even in fall and approaching winter, designers and retailers believe that young teens want to dress like MTV video hoes...I cannot BELIEVE the plethora of lace and satin camis for girls her age. They wouldn't be so doggone pretty if they weren't intended to be SEEN. The other aggrevation is skin-tight sweaters. I'm thinking body paint would be much more comfortable and would provide about as much warmth. One of the things I am MOST thankful for this season is that my daughter has a brain in her head and exercises good judgment 99% of the time. She'll have no part of any of it. Sometimes I w i s h she was a bit more diverse and engaged when it came to fashion, but her modesty will keep her out of trouble and serve her well.

Today ended up being fun--we actually found some cute clothes, enjoyed each other's company, and treated ourselves to Clumpies ice cream (a big YUM in these parts!) :). The funny thing is we didn't exactly plan our six hours of shopping......after going to a morning matinee to see a friend acting in a community theater production, we simply kept going....and going....and going! We managed to avoid the post-Thanksgiving insanity, I guess the venues we chose weren't the "hot spots" (certainly no electronics were involved).

Maybe one of these days I'll actually BUY one of the hats we try on...:).

Thanksgiving has come and gone, retail is finally in the black for the year, so that can only mean one thing--Christmas is just around the corner! As a public service to anyone who finds their way into the ol' Pensieve, I'm going to share a double-naught secret recipe with you (and I PROMISE, I will not leave out any key ingredients). The "secret" is more in the technique than the ingredients, and if you've ever struggled with a homemade pie crust, this is all you'll need to earn blue prize ribbons at the County Fair and a reputation as Queen of the Kitchen. You'll get dozens of invitations to holiday dinners and parties, but your hosts will hint that YOU need to bring the dessert--you'll have to decide for yourself whether or not it's worth the effort. It's almost as easy as making Rice Krispie Treats and not much more work...but let 'em think you s l a v e d :).

Here's all you need to get started:

If you can read AND follow instructions, it's idiot proof.

The only brand that matters is the Mazola CORN oil. My friend who shared this recipe swears it makes a difference. Because her pies were inhaled, not chewed, I have never deviated from this detail. Do so at your own risk.

Now, pre-heat your oven to 350 and gather these ingredients:

1 cup + 2 Tblsp ALL PURPOSE flour
2 Tblsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1/3 cup Mazola Corn oil
2-3 Tblsp. ICE water (cold is supposed to matter, too)

In a small bowl, mix together all the dry ingredients. Make a "well" in the center and add the oil.

Next, with a spoon or pastry knife cut in the flour with the liquid.

This is when I begin adding the ICE water; I usually start with 2 tablespoons, and then if it seems too dry, I had a third. Once it is mixed well by spoon, I fold it in with my hands (from the outside to the center). If it sticks to your hands, it is too wet, so add a bit of flour. Don't over-handle the dough. It should be smooth enough to shape it into a disc like this:

Tear two sheets of waxed paper about 18" long. Put the dough-disc on top of one sheet and cover it with the other. Now the fun part.......start your rollin' :). Roll in opposing directions, with the obvious goal of shaping a circle (because you're limited by the width of your waxed paper, your circle will be more oblong...). I'm not sure about the thickness of your piecrust, but it's THIN...maybe 1/8". No worries, though.

Once your circle/oblong is larger than your pie plate, you'll be ready to pick it up and drape it over your dish. Here's where the secret technique comes in. Slowly lift the top layer of wax paper completely off the crust. If it sticks, go slower. If it STILL sticks, start over. Lightly replace the top sheet of wax paper.

Pick up BOTH sheets of wax paper with the crust between them and flip it over to the other side.

Now, lift what WAS the bottom layer of paper completely off. Ball it up and see if you can score two points by tossing it into the nearest trashcan. This step is not part of the secret technique but it conjures up all kinds of fun school-year memories of trashcan basketball:).

Carefully lift the crust by the wax paper underneath and drape it, centered, over your pie plate.

Now, slowly remove the wax paper; it should lift easily since you've already lifted it once before.

For this demonstration pie, I've made an All-American Apple Pie. It also required a top crust, so I made two recipes. I have never doubled the recipe and divided the dough in half; instead, I've made two separate recipes in separate bowls. With the extra dough, I used some tiny cookie cutters to make apple designs (to hide the flaws :/). Be sure to "vent" the pie by cutting about 6-8 1" slits in the top...it might explode if you don't (I doubt that would actually happen, but do you really wanna find out?)

The top crust was a bit dry, I should've used a bit more ice water (hence, the flaws). A neat gizmo my mother-in-law gave me is this "pie crust saver". It really does its job--in the past, I'd cover the edges with tin foil for half the cooking time to keep the edges from getting darker than the center of the pie; that was a pain and usually resulted in me getting burned when I pulled it off. Here's the end result...and......yum! It's just as good as I remembered!
Lemme know if you try it or if it sounds like I've left something out. This is a recipe in the "oral tradition", that's why I provided the visuals :). In other words, I know what to do and I hope I'm remembering to tell you everything. Really. Truly. I wouldn't intentionally leave anything out, would I? Shame on YOU for even thinkin' it! ;)

...just in time for a huge Thanksgiving spread.

Said to me today when my brother-in-law saw me after several weeks (months?):

"Hey Robin, you look great! Have you gained wait? You look like you've gained weight."

Smack, smack! Please note, I did NOT ask the question, "Do I look fat in these pants?" This was simply his backhanded-compliment-kind-of greeting.

Like THIS is what you wanna hear when you're getting ready to chow down on some of your favorite calorie-riddled eats. Geezaree, the truth h u r t s. >:( Five pounds...more?? Evidently enough to notice within a nanosecond of seeing me.

I suppose I should thank him........now I'll have all the motivation necessary to exercise a little lotta will power.

(Don't tell him, but I'm lacing his dessert with Ex-lax (wicked, maniacle laugh)...and hiding all the toilet paper....I don't get mad, I get even ;) ).

& a pity party......!

First, the good stuff: THIS is my 300th post. What I really wanted for such a milestone (said rather wryly) was some pithy piece of prose that would move heart, soul, mind and body--short, direct, and memorable, the way all good blogging should start...and finish. Instead what you'll get is an invitation to toast the occasion avec moi, teetotalers or imbibers, an offering for you both.












Alas (you KNOW you're in trouble when someone uses THAT word!), I am frustrated and not at all in a celebratory mood. In fact, I feel like a child and would like to, with hands on hips, stomp my feet, poke out my bottom lip....and WHINE!

Sadly, regrettably, tearfully, I have had to revert to my boring, standard (sorry e-mom & Malissa!) OLD template in order to be able to publish and view anything. I am waiting on Susie to fix whatever is making my blog VERY, VERY SICK!

Willowtree noticed my blog feed was no longer being read in Bloglines; new posts don't show up. After taking a look at it, Dr. Pete determined there's something screwy with my template. I probably did something to mess it up--I've been TRYING (but to NO STINKIN' AVAIL! >:( ) to export my archives to a few other blog hosts. I don't wanna jump ship on Blogger til that's done. So far, I haven't been able to successfully export anything and I have the techies at Squarespace and Typepad working on it
(r i g h t).

As y'all know, making blog changes takes time...and energy. By the time I have seconds minutes hours SUCKED from me, there is none left (time or energy) to read or write much of anything. "Life" can be a four-letter word but so can "blog". Blog traffic is almost non-existent (hugs & kisses for those of you continuing to check in) and I have lost my status as one of the top comment whores committed commenters.

And then there's this: remember that home improvement project I mentioned right after we got back from Florida??? It is becoming the NEVER-ENDING bathroom renovation, and although once excited, especially when it began taking shape, I'm sitting on the edge of nothin'. Really, truly, I cannot wait to show you before and after pictures, the circa 1980 wallpaper is enough to put a smile on your face. The shower is now large enough for me to shave my legs without my backside touching the back wall, which is a good thing, for some reason that just grosses me out (I'm thinking invisible mold, mildew or soap scum osmosing into my pores or something...are there pores on your backside??) .

But........there are problems. THANK GOD Thomas was watching cartoons Saturday morning. He noticed water dripping from a light (our bathroom is directly above our den). He told Tad, and Tad discovered a leak in the walls of the shower :/. He cut off the water, but then we left to go out of town overnight. When we got home, the grout line was cracked at the shower's threshold and around the top row of tile. :( Did you just hear the pin prick popping my largely inflated balloon? You should have. The upside is the water could have continued to run for another 24 hours, and I can only imagine the damage done then. No, I take that back, I CAN'T/WON'T imagine that, all I can see if I do is a pile of tile-turned-rubble, and there's no sense in going there.

Today while I was once again fooling around with transferring PENSIEVE, I got this error from Blogger:

As with many powerful tools, blogging services can be both used and abused. The ease of creating and updating webpages with Blogger has made it particularly prone to a form of behavior known as link spamming. Blogs engaged in this behavior are called spam blogs, and can be recognized by their irrelevant,repetitive, or nonsensical text, along with a large number of links, usually all pointing to a single site.

It thinks my blog is spam :(!
S P A M! (which rhymes with dam! or bam! enough said...) My blog is no longer blog-worthy, read-worthy, feed-worthy. Noooooooo, it's little more than tripe...pork shoulder and ham. I have to WORD VERIFY even to write a post while it investigates my "status". Sheesh! That'll do a number on ya if you're in a very fragile state. My psyche might be permanently damaged.

I would love to rant some more, but I've got to go power clean...company's coming. Yep, gotta cook that 12-lb dead bird (at least wringing its neck and plucking feathers has already been done for me), I've already made a SPECTACULAR sour cream pound cake, my (IMveryHO) BEST APPLE PIE IN THE WORLD will be made--and photographed--tomorrow, and I've got to figure out how to make a dozen side dishes with one oven.

Gee, does this post NOT sound like me or what? I think I need a little

to go with that

:D Happy Thanksgiving, y'all. Who knows if and when I'll be back! (This isn't a cryptic farewell post, I ain't going without a fight...but I really will be tied up the next couple of days, so if I can sneak away, you might see me again...if not, much peace and life to YOU!).

I love to laugh. Out loud. 'Til tears stream and and my nose resembles a leaky faucet. The contagious kind of laughter that involuntarily affects anyone who sees or hears you, so that they, too, must join in, regardless of whether they know its origin or reason. Surely laughter is one of the greatest of all endorphine releases and I am certain it is one of God's most generous gifts to man.

Last night I had one of those laughs, and given my Pulitzer prize-winning investigative reporting, it was nothing short of chocolate icing on the proverbial chocolate cake.

During Thomas' basketball practice, we decided to grab a quick bite at Chick-Fil-A and run a few errands (including the Target run). Rachel and Stephen found a table, loaded up on straws, napkins and a gazillion ketchup packets (we really should tip somebody). While Tad was paying, I took our drinks to the table, then returned to the counter to pick up the rest of our order. The customer behind us had apparently already placed his order, and at the exact moment I walked up, I heard him say, "Can I have some Pomeranian sauce with that?"

(I'm giggling right now just thinking about it.)

OF COURSE I had to ask, "Excuse me...but did I just hear you ask for POMERANIAN SAUCE??!" And he said, "Yes, I guess my mind's on my dogs. They're in the car." I politely inquired as to whether they were Pomeranians.

"No, they're Pekinese." (snort silently, RESTRAIN YOURSELF WOMAN, NOW!!!)

I quickly replied that I needed to know where his car was so I could warn his poor animals as to what he had in mind. I had Hannibal Lechter thoughts but with dogs, which is just about as gross. Unless you live somewhere very far from here in a country where dogs and horses aren't exactly pets.

The cashier kept a straight face as she handed over the Polynesian sauce. She almost seemed like she didn't notice, but my mocking and condescending incredulous look must have given her a head's up. Who knows, maybe she hears this line all the time.

As I came back and recounted the story to Tad and the kids, they joined in the gigglefest--I could barely re-tell the conversation between snorts & snot & tears (oh, my!). Except, this time, I'm afraid they were laughing AT me, not WITH me.

Honestly, I don't care which...and even though I'm not a smoker, I almost needed a cigarette;).

Like...

...loggerheads to the sea
...a moth to light
...flies to honey
...lint to ANYTHING black
...Britney or Paris to the tabloids
...chocolate to my hips

I was inexplicably but undeniably drawn.

They have faces....they have names...they have their reasons...and they even have LIVES.

Without realizing it, I had acted as judge and jury to convict them of a crime of my own construction. They were doing something I'd never do, and because of that, I was somehow superior, better, without "sin" of my own. With a swift finger of accusation, damning and full of ridicule, I had failed to see the three curled back, pointing at ME. All it took to discover this ugly sneer on my own face was to see their faces, learn their names, hear their reasons.

And have a whale of a time in the process :).

Guess what I did last night? I met the "campers" at Targét. If you've happened to read comments from my last two posts, you might've realized it already.

I didn't actually make a special trip for this purpose; Tad needed some things. But when the door of opportunity presented itself, well, I just charged through....MUCH to the mortification of my family.

With Rachel's trusty journal in hand (she's evidently more Nancy-Drew-ready than me), as my family bolted to the farthest-most corner of the store went inside, I sheepishly and reluctantly boldly and daringly marched up to the first set of campers and introduced myself (pictured here, left-right, Rocky, Jonathan and Joe). I told them I was taking an informal poll, and asked if they'd mind answering a few questions. Although the media has extensively covered the peeps camping out for Playstation 3s in our area, no one had yet spoken to this group. I even heard CiCi's Pizza was delivering a few pies to line-waiters elsewhere, these poor guys got nothing but waterlog and frostbite (sorry, giggles that NOW the temperatures decide to hit near freezin'). Oh, yeah, except eventually their PS3s.

Of the ten people waiting in line, eight were guys. All but one planned on re-selling, that guy was a serious gamer. I didn't get his name but referred to him as "Camo Boy"--his face was covered in a hunting mask. One younger guy, David, planned on playing for a while, then selling it before Christmas (guess that's his version of the "best of both worlds"). Another David, also known as "Wedding Boy", was buying his unit to resell in order to make money to pay for his wedding. Gosh, he was so excited. When he told me they had a March wedding date, I asked when (my birthday is in March and I thought it'd be cool if they were getting married then). It's planned for mid-month, and when I told them why I was asking, one of the girls, Amy Grant (not THE Amy Grant-Chapman-Gill) said, "No way! That's MY birthday!" How cool is that? Ten people in line, 365 (or 366, Willowtree) possible birthdates, and one is on MY birthday.

These campers who I had dissed so easily before, were decent people. Why did I assume they were jerks? I didn't even realize my assumption until my pleasant surprise in finding all of them warm and open and inviting and eager to talk. LOL, they wondered if I was a reporter, and I just said no, I was writing about this for personal reasons, that this "story" (which really isn't much of a story) was intriguing in a trainwreck-watchin'-kind-of-way to me.

I gave a few of them my blog name and told them to Google me, not really expecting any of them to remember. How cool was it this morning when I checked emails to find Joe's mom, Loree, had posted a comment...and then later, Joe himself?

For some reason, this slice of an insane Americana was telling to me. Telling of self...and others. It was a nice lesson in not marginalizing people, seeking and seeing good in others, giving people the time of day. Contrary to what I've taught my children all their lives, TALK to strangers! We are ALL desperate for community, whether we know it, acknowledge it or not. For 2-3 days these campers were part of something much bigger than themselves...a phenom that can only exist in a country as indulged as ours...but for them the experience will be like Joe said, "time well spent [perhaps earning $2,400 for three days "work"] , and a fun story to tell friends."

Get this: I'm STILL doing "it"! While I sit here and write, in my mind, I'm thinking, "This is more telling about the people who will fork out $3,000 for these things then the guys reselling them". Geez, I'm STILL a judge!

A) What's the longest wait in line you've ever endured? How long? Was it worth it?

B) What's the most outrageous item you've ever purchased for OVER the retail price of that item? Did you have buyer's remorse?

They were camping in front of Target. With chairs and ponchos and coolers and more. I wondered what they were protesting, especially at 8:30 at night. They let me pass by and hardly looked my way.

If you read my rather pretentious poetic post from earlier today, you know it's been pouring all day.

I asked an employee why they were there. They're in line for Sony's new Playstation 3, and although I've seen the press, I haven't read it. Until I saw the crazy people.

The Target peeps told me people have been camped out at Best Buy since Monday even though the stupid games Playstations aren't available for purchase until Friday. Price tag? $500.00. for a stripped-down version.

I'm guessing there are three categories of "campers": 1) Serious gamers in line for themselves, desperately validated by being the "first on the block with..." 2) Mercenaries hoping to flip a quick profit on eBay and stick it to the third category: 3) parents who have obviously lost their ever-lovin' minds!!! (and didn't know they had to stand in line for a week in order to buy their over-indulged children a $600.OO TOY FOR CHRISTMAS!!!).

This morning after school drop off (I'm finishing this post the day after I started it), I drove through the Best Buy parking lot to poll the campers, in order to bring their story to you. Nine tents in a row. On cement. In a parking lot. They were still sleeping.

I THOUGHT about honking my horn, but I figured they're already grumpy enough (lol). I am oddly drawn to their insanity the same way I rubberneck a trainwreck. This tells me I am just as nuts as they are.

Contrary to what the title might suggest (depending on how old you are), this is NOT a Campbell's Soup post.

Today it is a deliciously dreary day. Gray skies, fallish temps, and my favorite part--a relentless, rhythmic rainfall beating an uneven liquid cadence on rooftop and ground, drumrolling music not just to my ears but to my soul. I absolutely LOVE weather like this, especially when I have the luxury of appreciating it from the coziness of home. Perhaps a blazing fire in our fireplace would be the "chocolate shavings" on top of a mile-high mound of whipped cream, topping a venti-sized mug of hot chocolate....sigh...but at least I have the hot chocolate and whipped cream.

Because days like this are the exception, not the rule, I can appreciate them. If I lived in Seattle I'd probably smack someone like me who's pollyanna-ing what could be viewed as a miserable, wet, traffic-nightmare-causing rainfall. Our drive time to school this morning took three times as long as normal; good thing I left early, we barely made it by the ring of the first bell. If too many days of sunshine and blue skies elude, this tune of mine begins to falter, but for now, my spirit sings.

Perhaps part of my demeanor is tied to some of my favorite "friends" who get to visit between now and Spring--sweaters and jeans and thick socks, oh my! My preferred "uniform" when it's cool enough is a vee-neck long-sleeved white tee and my favorite pair of blue jeans, worn well from having been worn often..."soft" in all the right places that make them unique to my DNA. I don't care WHAT happened in "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants", nobody else's jeans glove you the way your favorite pair of jeans hugs your southern half. Do I hear an "Amen!"? Why, yes, I think I hear a few.

But my primo-most favoritest outfit from last year is what I am wearing today. Mmmmmm, I'm in textile texture heaven! I wish you could touch me (now THAT'LL bring out the freaks, YIKES! rephrase, rephrase QUICKLY), let's make that my arm and kneecap. A pair of velveteen pants and a cozy sweater, and at least while I'm home, a pair of outrageous chenille socks of my daughter's (she has quite the sock collection--while no slave to fashion, she LURVES her comfort, cozylicious, chenille sock collection....shhhh, so do I; they're "her precious"). When I'm out and about later on today, I will most likely be the receiver of many a sideways glance, as observers notice me unconsciously hugging myself. This sweater still feels as good as I remember.

Ooooo, and one of the sursies my husband gave me for our anniversary is a NEW sweater made of the same plush yarn!! I would have that on today, but since I've worn it three times since Saturday, it's in the wash. In case you're wondering (and by now, I know you aren't), this picture is not me, although it wouldn't surprise me if the face recognition gurus at myheritage.com said I look 87% like an Asian model. It could be worse...they could say I look like Little Richard or something;).

...Billy Joel, ballading mid-song, was just at that line when Tad cranked up his 1986 burgandy Honda Accord. It's at that precise moment he asked me to get something for him out of the glove compartment, I swear, almost on cue. I popped it open and saw an open ring box and thought, hesitantly, "Oops! He doesn't want me to see that..." And my head at mock speed boomeranged a shocked glance at him, then back at The Box and I wasn't sure what the proper social graces were for accidentally discovering an engagement ring. I couldn't exactly pretend I didn't see it since it was on top of everything else. All this hesitation in a matter of seconds, felt much more like an eternity.

And then The Question--

"Well...are you going to keep it?"

Not exactly the one I had imagined since I was six years old reading stories that ALWAYS ended in "happily ever after" I was looking for. I suppose it was warrented, however; this WAS the second time he proposed after all. The first time was a year or so earlier, a much more "traditional" proposal (professing his undying love and affection and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, yada yada). At the time, I was conflicted--I couldn't exactly say "yes" because I took marriage that seriously, a commitment for life, but I didn't wanna say "no"...so we remained in engagement purgatory for about a week. I wore the ring for fun while I contemplated my decision, but when all was said and done, I could only say "Not yet." He took the ring back, and let's just say for the next year he made me pay for my indecision--painfully so--by dating other women we evaluated whether or not to stay together.

As you can see, his question was certainly understandable. I still remember what I was wearing, in fact, I just got rid of it in the past few years. I become emotionally attached to old clothes and have been known to keep a garment well beyond its natural life because of undue affection. I tried to find a picture from that night, but my pictures are discombobulated, I have GOT to organize them before I die.

By the time Billy got to "I love you and that's forever And this I promise from the heart I could not love you any better I love you just the way you are" I had said yes! Three and a half months later, we were married (dated five years, when you've got your dress (my sister's), it really doesn't take that long to pull off a wedding).

Fast forward...Nineteen years. 228 months. 6,935 days. 166,440 hours.

A long damn time. And if there's ANY question, I am most assuredly smiling when I write that.

I cannot remember what life was like before Tad. We've been together over half our lives. He is strong where I am weak, and our personalities complete each other's; a good thing, although not without working through some differences at times. We've had emotional highs and learned that sometimes "love" is spelled "c-o-m-m-i-t-m-e-n-t" when feelings eluded.

And if I knew "then" what I know now, my answer would still be the same, the second time he asked, not the first.

I love you, baby...happy anniversary :).

[1] I heart my true blue devoted caring and attentive ROCKIN' "regular" readers. I will not name names to protect the innocent. Wait a second, they're not so innocent, so yes, I think I WILL name names. Hugs & cybersmooches in the most platonic of ways to e-mom, Peter, Pamela, and Claudia--they all noticed I was AWOL and in their own special way, showed their concern for me. More of the same to Susan, Malissa and LCO for their concern about my spinnin' head. The rest of you can kiss my disfigured toe I am SURE were also worried, but kept your thoughts to yourselves so as not to pry.

To explain my absence from the blogosphere, both "here" (where PENSIEVE lives) and "there" (where [insert your blogname here] lives), I direct you to #2 below.

[2] Tomorrow is my 19th wedding anniversary. Friday morning, after dropping off our kids as early as we could get them to school, Tad and I fled the country got away for an amazing ... wonderful ... romantic ... sursey-filled weekend. For whatever reason (what's "special" about 19? 20 is looming, and 19 kind of gets lost...not really, but you know...), the weekend exceeded my expectations. Even with a few VERY MINOR glitches**, it was perfect. Ooooo! Hattip to Karmyn, didn't you tell me about Oregon Erath wine? We had a
n i c e pinot noir :).

Okay, photos aren't posting (not that there were that many), and my kids are hovering, so I'm hopping off for now. I mainly wanted y'all to know I'm NOT DEAD..........yet ;).


** Our cottage had a ladybug infestation. OF COURSE, I took pictures (insane, I admit, but it was to show y'all, big sigh), the vertigo assaulted me in return (when I laid on my back to photograph the ceiling), Blogger's not uploading, so I'll fool with it tomorrow. It could've been very scary bugs, at least ladybugs are well dressed happy bugs:).
** WICKED windstorm Saturday night, I thought we might end up in Kansas. No, wait, anywhere BUT Kansas.
** The music crashed so our first and LAST first ever couple's massage was completed in relative silence. I had fun thinking about what Tad must've been thinkin'. So much for ambiance.
** the only picture taken of us features me with my stupid eyes closed :(.

See? barely worth mentioning, huh?

Today I am thankful my head is firmly attached to my shoulders. Yes, the discombobulation continues....and the vertigo :/. I am resigned to the fact it's not going away on its own, so next week I will be visiting a doctor to diagnose the inner ear infection that has got to be causing this. Just when I thought it might be gone, this morning I was treated to a particularly wicked spin.

After an early morning appointment, I was meeting a friend for lunch before picking Thomas up from school for an ortho appointment. I was very early for lunch, it was too far to drive home, and frankly, I was thrilled to have AN HOUR to read some of my cyberpals. There was angel-devil-shoulder debate about reading instead, but when free wi-fi is in the house, I take advantage.

Please refer to sentence two of paragraph one now. My wireless connection was on the blitz [Insert your favorite profane statement here.]. I clicked everything I could think of to determine and repair the problem (it had worked fine earlier this week). Then.......after about half an hour, I sucked it up and called Tad. One of the error messages was to make sure my wireless switch was enabled--thing is, I don't exactly have a switch, it's a function of the function keys. He told me the toggle, and I toggled...nada. So, I kept clickin' and even asked the very smart-looking student next to me if she had any ideas. Suffice it to say, her smart looks had nothing to do with computers.

Now it became a challenge--man vs. beast. Yes, BEAST. My laposaur was NOT going to win. I would not give it consent to make me feel inferior. So......I called 4-1-1 and got a connection to the Geek Squad at Best Buy. Yep, the Geek Squad. They told me the same thing Tad did, and without going in to the store, that was the best they could offer.

But guess what? I kept a' clickin' and finally......FINALLY, due diligence paid off. I figured it out--but can't tell you because it's a double-naught secret (aka I have no idea how to recreate it...something about enabling something that had been disabled. If I find out "how" it became disabled I will hurt someone). My student neighbor was proud of me. The staff at Panera was hopeful I would now give up my table or order more than a Pepsi (which I HAD to buy because of the companion nausea experienced during my ride on Vertigo) . Me? I could finally check in on a few of you. It only took an hour to show Mr. Lappy who's the boss.

Except then my lunch date showed up and that was the end of that. Talk about timing :/.

I told you quite a while ago, I could remain in Tennessee because one of my FAVORITE restaurants was coming to town.

After checking off the past 153 days of construction, she's heeeeerrre!

And, yes, we were there opening night with bells on. At least I was sportin' some ring-a-ding-ding-dongs.

My precious springrolls were just as I had remembered them, as was Tad's favorite, Chang's spicy chicken. When appetizers, then entree arrived, there might have been a few tears shed.

The best part was sharing the night with Stephanie and Charles. "Why would that matter?" you ask. Because when I say "sharing the night", I mean
a l l n i g h t.

We waited 2 1/2 hours just TO BE SEATED. Service was attentive but slow, but time was irrelevant. (Mainly because Steph and I, before the guys met us, had wandered over to a nearby Mexican place for chips & salsa & beverages, so we weren't exactly famished. We had no idea at the time how wise that decision would prove to be.)

You judge if the night was good...just listen to our good fortunes:

Today will be lucky and memorable for you.

Important associates will be there for you, if needed.

A great day lies ahead in the not too distant future.

Your dream will come true when you least expect it.

Of course, we read all of those as we do every fortune cookie we come across--by adding the words "in bed" at the end of what it says. Yep, laughs were in plentiful supply :).

...here are some things you would have heard.

Top Most Repeated Phrases:

1) "Are you feelin' the Magic?" (Sometimes asked when there was a "lovefest" going on with a great ride or show, asked other times when one of us was going postal, because siblings/children/parents know when and how to press each others' "buttons" like no other. Sometimes we laugh WITH each other, and sometimes we laugh AT each other. All in love....maybe;) ).

2) "What time is it?" (I have no idea why it mattered.......time was irrelevant to me, but apparently important to my kids).

3) “I’m hungry” (Said within 30 minutes of breakfast, lunch or dinner, which was probably not eaten anyway.)

4) “It was worth the wait” (Test Track, Expedition Everest and Soaring, yes!) or “It wasn’t worth the wait” (Peter Pan's Flight). Live and learn :/.


Just Plain Funny

“This gets my vote for scariest ride.” (Thomas on “It’s a Small World After All”)

“Does this thing
N E V E R end?!” (Thomas, 12 minutes into “It’s a Small World After All”)

On the way home, I tried to write a bit (it's why I can "remember" this stuff now). Picture Stephen "singing"...loudly... behind my head. I ask him what he’s singing, this is the following exchange:

Me: "Stephen, are you just making noise?"
Stephen: “I’m singing to the Lord.”
Me (sheepishly, with some conviction): “Y o u a r e ??” (cartoon hearts floating out of my eyes)
Thomas: "Mo-ohm (rolling his eyes at my ignorance)... he’s singing High School Musical."
Everyone laughs as the boys say, “Mom, listen to this…3-2-1” and they break into song in unison... They'd kill me if they knew I was publically posting about them singing HSM (bwwaaahhhaha!)

Wise Beyond Her Years

Spoken incredulously, expression of disbelief: “They go to Disney EVERY year? But then the "magic" would just fade away” (Rachel, when I was telling her about friends who make an annual pilgrimmage to Disney).

More soon, I'm on the run:).

Three weeks post Disney World, it's interesting to see the things that stuck with me.

Take this ABSOLUTELY LAME picture to our left. In case you're wondering (which I highly suspect you are NOT), it's a Baobab tree. These are also known as monkey bread trees or colloquially as "upside-down trees" (from the Arabic legend which claims that the devil pulled out the tree and planted it upside down). Yes, I've already told you more than you'd care to know, but it's important for you to hear the pain rage contempt frustration defeat in my voice as you read that sentence. Our NEW camera was working only when I wanted to photograph stranger's feet or gum on the sidewalk, while our OLD camera's battery managed to die every time I had a great shot of our family, a strolling character or fabuloso attraction lined up. So I'm left with things like a freakin' upside down tree seen on safari at the Animal Kingdom. Nooooo, I couldn't get the pictures of lions and tigers and bears (oh, my!), but junk like this?? Load 'em up. (Actually, I did think these were pretty cool, but suffice it to say, I don't think "Disney" when I see it :/.)

There are hundreds of numbers I could throw at you relative to our trip to Florida's coast and "all things Mouse", here are just a few:
24 Approximate hours spent in the car from Sunday morning-Thursday night.
24 Exact hours spend in the parks
1,500 Approximate miles traveled
82 How many times Stephen asked some variation of "Are we almost there?"
5 Hours on the beach. About a thousand too few
45 Minutes. About how long I boogie boarded. Big waves, one of the roughest surfs I’ve ever experienced. Probably not safe, but absolutely, positively wonderful!
4 Number of Disney theme parks visited, 3 each day
19 Miles walked each day. Okay, who really knows this number? Wearing Birkenstocks definitely worked on the old calf muscles, I wish they looked as good as how sore they were. Amazed our kids DID NOT complain, they were troopers.
46 Seconds. How fast the kids fell asleep in the car after getting up at 6:30 a.m. the first day, and going HARD until the fireworks were extinguished that night. We let ‘em sleep in Day Two. Somehow we still managed 12 hours of Magic.
$$$ Tickets. You could feed a third world country for a year for what it costs a family of five to spend a day at Disney. Yeah, I’m conflicted on this one.
17 How many times Tad or I said “Don’t y’all wanna watch a movie?” to the kids on the drive down and back. I don’t get it. When I was a kid, THIS was the kind of thing I never dreamed would be a possibility in my lifetime. Go figure….
3 Number of movies they actually watched
3,000 The number of junk-food calories consumed per family member, per day.
30 The number of nutritious calories consumed per family member, per day.

Saturday was the last day of fall sports for our family. Because the previous weekend was a total washout, we had make up games. Stephen (yellow shirt below) had two soccer games instead of the scheduled one (9:30 a.m. & 2:30 p.m.); by the time the last whistle blew, he had scored a total of five goals for the day...quite a "feet" of accomplishment, great punctuation to a season that thankfully saw week-to-week improvement.

In between, Thomas had a noon "pick-up" football game (The "official season" was over). In spite of it being more a scrimmage than a game, he was FIRED UP because it was the only one they got to play on our school's campus since sixth grade is still played through the Y (none of his games were "home" games). Thomas had to leave his first basketball practice early in order to make his game--he's still in the "I can play everything" age of adolescence.

So, yeah, if you noticed game times, we were on the road all day long, Rachel in tow, dutifully playing the cheerleading big sis.

Thomas' football game started late, so it ran late, and Tad left early with Rach and Stephen to get to the second soccer match of the day. I was left behind to watch the ending of Thomas' game.

I cannot tell you just how important that proved to be.

He scored a touchdown in their only win of the season. His first ever.
Starting with a wobbly pitchout, he ran his heart out for 60 yards, his eyes never leaving the prize--the coveted endzone which had managed to elude his grasp all season. When I realized that was MY BABY him on the fly, my heart started racing. As he met each yard marker, my adrenaline coursed in sync with his. My mind loudly but silently pleaded a kind of soul-bartering prayer, a mother-hymn which must amuse the ears of God and cause Satan anxiously, greedily to roll fist in hand..."Please let him make it...PLEASE LET HIM MAKE IT!"

My heart exploded, but not from "mother pride", nothing like that. I knew what this meant to Thomas. It meant everything to him. It mattered too much. He's a classic middle child if there is such a thing. To say he loves/adores/relishes being the center of attention, is an understatement. For a moment, he measured up to the Legend that Lives in His Mind. Perhaps the most precious thing about it, was his friends' reaction. THEY were just as happy for him as I was, as he was himself. They know. Kids "know" whether they realize it or not.

It was a fantastic game for all the guys. For some reason, everyone had "a moment". The "stars" of their team stepped aside to share the glory. They had nothing to lose so they played with unbridled spirit--after all, their season was officially over, why not try something "new" for fun?

But when the Fat Lady finally sang, it was one heckuva winning number :).

Bigtime Postscript: Glad he had this glorious moment on Saturday, today is the day he bade farewell to four MORE babies. Let's just say I waited as long as I could because, although I feel his elation when he's on a "high", I feel his pain when he's on a low (he's sure we ALL feel his passion, good, bad or ugly!). He's hurtin' right now :(, but I'm sure in a few hours, all will be good :/.

Three weeks after our Florida vacation, I'm just now getting around to writing about it. ..that whole discombobulated and living out of a suitcase thing.

It's also time to fess up that my perfectly painted tootsies are discombobulated, too. Ewwwww! Look at that pic to the right:(. It brings both mental and physical duress for me just to look at it! I'm not sure WHAT happened to start the break in my nail, but Stephen finished it off when Birkenstock-clad foot met soccer cleat. I actually went to a nail salon and requested an acrylic tip, but they laughed at me explained it was a lost cause while compassionately clipping the last remaining thread of keratin. They also painted the disgusting ridged nail bed to try to camoflage my grotesque toe disfigurement, but that just looked s a d to me, kind of like using concealer to "hide" a humongous zitoid (ain't foolin' nobody). Although I bandaged it for a while, now I'm hesitant to confess my toenails are bare-naked...it's almost enough to crush my spirit. Almost;).

Perhaps the saving grace is there's over six months for it to grow before baring my feet full time again. In the meantime, they're hiding, often in colorful socks, which is kind of like a spoonful of sugar :).

It's a good one, you'll want to visit as many as you can! Thanks to Sting My Heart, a Pensieve favorite, for playing hospitable hostess this week!

Y'all bounce over to Malissa's and tell her Happy 35th. She's out of town at a Scrapper's weekend, and I KNOW it'd be fun for her to come home to a bunch of surprise greetings. Don't tell her I sent you, let her w o n d e r where in the heck you came from. Tell your readers, too. LOL, a blog swarm for a birthday present. What will I "they" think of next?

For those of you who might remember my exercise in insanity little contest last month, Malissa was a winner (in, not one, but TWO categories)(which reminds me, I still need addresses from some of y'all....).

BTW, I'm getting v e r y close to my 300th post...what happens then? In Blogger's "Posting" mode, it only shows the most recent 300 entries, and gee.....I don't wanna lose any stellar writing from prior to that. Any thoughts?

(Thanks to leftcoastonlooker for head's up on Malissa's birthday :) ).

So, I kind of was creeped out to have tons o' pictures of moi posted here, so most of 'em have gone AWOL. No weird comments or anything, but I'm SICK of people IRL telling me "You need to be careful...you don't know what kind of whack jobs are reading your blog. YOU might have good intentions, but they..." and you can fill in the blank with your favorite axe-murdering, seriel rapist kind of scenario :/. So, here it is in summary, mainly so I don't forget.

I left this post 'cause it didn't have my picture, not by any intention of my own. I'm blog-impaired at times, what can I say?

Photo #1, My lookalikes, (the only one I'm leaving since I'm incognito): Little Richard, Gabrielle Union, YOUNG Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Rita Hayworth, Hugh Jackman

Photo #2: Lacey Chabert, Rusiana, Julianna Margulies, Julia Stiles, Sheryn Regis, Katherine Heigle

Photo #3: Yamila Diaz, Cybil Shepherd, Sarah Jessica Parker, THE ROCK (HA! Still cracking me up, more than Little Richard), Zhang Ziyi, Elizabeth Shue.

Or I could've titled this: "How I blog binged today" or "The girl with a thousand faces". WT's insinuation that I purposefully left off my photo sent me back to figure out why it was dropped. None of mine "stuck"...go figure, I'm techie impaired and disgusted by postal because of proud of it. I won't keep this posted forever, takes up too much room. I do find it suspect that there's no overlap of celebrities among my different pictures.......

I can't write anything of substance at the moment. Kevin-the-tile guy has his whiz-bang saw going every two minutes and to say I'm distracted is a vast understatement.... But every whirrrr I hear is one more tile up, that much closer to being undiscombobulated. Off to speed clean.......silly girl that I am :).

REST OF THIS POST REMOVED TO PROTECT...the not-so-innocent :). Me likey the comments, so I didn't delete it altogether, funny peeps, you are!

One of the coolest things from yesterday's post was a point I didn't get to; the title was "Unexpected GiftS" but I only got to the first one. The "s" implies more than one, and there was.

When I got to the dealership, there were three cars in front of me, but they still checked me in quickly. I reminded them what I was there for, and in addition to the brake job, I asked them to check the thingamajig that squirts water on the windshield...you know, the fluid that's supposed to hose off bug guts and bird mess. Ours has never worked that I can recall, a bubbling dribble does little more than dampen the hood of the car and frustrate me.

They have a nice waiting room so off I went to blog on my lappy, coffee in hand. No sooner had I powered up, did Chris-the-service-concierge come and find me to tell me the "news".

Chris: "Ma'am, your brakes are just fine...they don't need to be replaced."

Me, oh so intelligently: "Huh?"

Chris: "That's right, they're only about half-worn, so if you replace 'em now, you're just throwing money away."

Me, dumbfounded: "Oookaaaaaaayyyyyyyy. Then what's that racket we're hearing."

Chris: "I don't really know, ma'am (I'm feeling a thousand years old). We'll check 'em and clean 'em, but when they need to be replaced, you won't wonder about it. You'll KNOW."

Ten minutes later I'm on my way with my not-so-squeaky-but-clean brakes and a windshield-squirter-thingy spraying at the speed of sneeze. Best of all, no charge :).

It hit me driving home that there was no "real" reason to go to the dealership yesterday, our brakes were fine.

And I would've missed an amazing show.

Today Gina, the-place-we-got-our-bathroom-fixtures-from-girl, said to me as I was out the door, goods in hand, "Hey, you know you look like Alanis Morissette, right, I bet you get that all the time...". To which I replied, "Actually, that's a new one, but I do wish I had some pipes on me like hers." I've been told I look like Leah Remini (minus the heavy make-up...and body-before-baby), Chelsea Noble (I was in love with Kirk Cameron during the "Growing Pains" years), and yikes! even Kathie Lee. I'm not saying I agree with any of the above, but it's always interesting to know how people see you.

Matt commented to my blog recently, so I paid him a little visit. Among other things, I thought this was v e r y nifty. I figured at least one of the above girlie-Qs would be included in this face recognition thingy, but it came up with a whole new batch. Go figure.



I think I just look like myself.

I'm a convoluted thinker. And sometimes I am certain think the world universe revolves around ME.

Take this morning. The first half of my day was pretty well ordered--based on the high-pitched squeal of my brakes, it was time to have them replaced. Following an early-morning appointment at the dealership immediately after school drop-off (coupon special, otherwise we NEVER go to the dealer for service), I was headed to my Wednesday morning study on Daniel (Bible prophecy blows my mind.....and honestly, I struggle with eschatology the study of end time events...); from there, picking up a fixture for our bathroom remodel and, most important of all, a 1/2-price candy binge at Targét.

For some reason, traffic was MISERABLE, somehow personifying the gray, drizzly, nondescript kind of day that attempts to smother the fire of Fall. It took us 20 minutes to go less than two miles, on a good day it should've taken us maybe five. The kids were on time for school, but I was about 15 late for my 8:00 a.m. appointment.

OF COURSE, I was frustrated. In my mind, 15 minutes late for a service appointment meant I'd be behind others who had later appointments, and my wait would go from one hours to two.

Instead, it turned out to be wonderfully providential. Had I been on time, I would've missed a moment of beauty...creation speaking...in a way that always, always stops me in my tracks.

A rainbow. Alpha to its omega, spectacularly complete. Were there a pot of gold at its end, I could've found it. In sections, there was a double bow, though this a quiet echo of the first. As I was rushing to my appointment, desperation looked right and left for a place to stop, to be still, to savor. Finally exiting the interstate, I was able to click a few shots with my cell, but it was already beginning to fade.

I didn't care about being late anymore. It didn't matter. Maybe it sounds silly, but when I see a rainbow, I see a signature of God, a seven-color brushstroke of His hand across a canvas of sky, and I'm amazed. I am always amazed. Sometimes I'm amazed that I'm still amazed when I've been seeing these for a lifetime. There have been multiple times I am convinced these are intentional gifts for ME--an assurance--like a father saying "Chile, I'm HERE! It's okay...it's gonna be O.K." and I believe it, 'cause it's my daddy, and he knows me and loves me and always tells me the truth, ya know? Today I'm not overly concerned about anything really, and still I'm reassured....

Ok......Blogger's not cooperating with photo uploads, so here it is w/tinypic...wish the quality was better, but at least you can see the entire arc if you squint your eyes and use lots of imagination :).

a) your pants are unzipped
b) you have a "bat in the cave" (#1 & #2, but omw, NOT #3!)

I ask because Thursday I ran errands for hours...with my pants unzipped. I'm "ughing" again just remembering. Even my children didn't tell me, I realized it for myself when I went to the bathroom after school pick up (they swear they didn't notice, "Mom, no one saw..."). My mind is racing, trying to remember when I "went" the last time, knowing they had been undone half the day, trying to recall everyone I had talked to. The biggest embarrassment was knowing I had just had a lengthy discussion with our tile guy, I'm pretty certain we maintained eye contact the entire time. Let me believe this even if it's not true.

So, I ask again, is ignorance bliss or do ya wanna know?

One of my more embarrassing moments was at Bath & Body last year, shopping at Christmas time. The rather hip college-age cutie working the register, in not-so-hip terms, told me I needed a tissue. Her equally dollish co-worker felt every bit of my pain and said incredulously, "I cannot believe you just told her that!" to which CAC says, "Well, she didn't need to go around all day looking like t h a t--THAT would be embarrassing!" Me, thinking but not speaking: Ummm, hello girls, I'm standing right here! And yeah, I'm TOTALLY mortified, but in my cheek-reddened state, in a way that you can only appreciate because you've been spared even further embarrassment, I was grateful.

Rachel and I are tactful about this, we have a hand-motion-signal-thing going. If that doesn't work, we usually just say "You might wanna take care of 'things'" and by "things", we know exactly what the other is saying.

But, noooooo, not my boys. Let this serve as a warning. Do not read further if you are grossed out by really disgusting little boy conversations this means you, Susan;) Ooooo, and Ree, I just remembered Grandma Iny (see May 2006) :). I'm gagging just mentally recalling their conversation from Friday. Trust me, the faint-hearted will follow suit.

Rachel and I are in the front seat, Stephen & Thomas behind us. Rachel and I are having a nice convo, recapping her school day. The radio is providing nice car ambiance when we hear a disturbance behind our heads followed by Stephen LOUDLY protesting--

"Ewwwwwwwww. Grooooosssssssssss!!!"

He has our immediate attention. In stupidity, we ask "What?" jinx-style, but he would've told us anyway.

"Thomas just showed me a bloody booger...and then he ATE it."

Roadside regurgitation by the driver followed that pronouncement. Immediately following is me thinking "HAVE I NOT TAUGHT HIM BETTER THAN THAT???!!" (gagwretchgag) My next thought was "At least it's not smeared on the seat (more gagging ensues). Keep your eyes glued to the road...DO NOT LOOK BACK!

In spite of Stephen's disgust, he finds this hilarious. Thomas is peacock proud and receives his audience's reaction as ample reward for his gross out prowess . Rachel is just pleading "DO SOMETHING about them!" No wonder Calgon's "Take me away" campaign was a raging success...every mom in America needed wanted to escape at times like these :/.

Anyhow, back to where I began, the saving grace of my XYZ dilemma...

...at least I wasn't going "commando" ;).

Thanks to Rebecca for giving me a link to what will become my boys' favorite post EVAH!

Weird Al, still going strong after all these years....so stinkin' funny!

With the stroke of a pen, he rocked the world....and the Church has been reeling (and dealing) ever since. In contemplation of Reformation Day...to call it a "holiday" just sounds ridiculous (for the record, I don't understand more than I do, but I sure wish it was the other way around).

1. When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said "Repent", He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance

62. The true treasure of the church is the Holy gospel of the glory and the grace of God.

The remainder of Luther's 95 Theses.

I am living out of a suitcase. In my home. I can't find things. In my home. I had to use my kids' strawberry all-in-one shampoo/conditioner, and that made my skin crawl, not so much the "strawberry" part, but for some reason, those shampoo/conditioners are an anathema to me. Kind of like peanut butter and jelly swirled in a jar or cheese that squirts out of a can--some things just shouldn't ought to be, regardless of convenience.

We're having our circa-1980 bathroom remodeled and it has me in a tizz. (oooo, that word was FUN to write! Although I've said it for a lifetime, that was the first time I ever wrote it :) ). When we bought this house three years ago, we were thrilled to have a h u g e master bathroom; in our previous house, the bathroom was slightly larger than the size of a telephone booth. I'm not kidding, when you were sittin' on the throne, your knees were crammed against the wall (I'm not sure Tad used our bathroom for serious "business"). The shower was proportionally bigger, but again, in our new house the bathroom is generous. Interestingly, the shower was tiny, you could barely turn around in it, which has always been odd to me because 1) the people who lived here previously were, ummm, bigger than me and 2) have I mentioned the bathroom itself is B I G?? Tiny shower + wide open spaces, has NEVER added up to me.

Anyway, since we've decided we're staying in Tennessee a bit longer (wink, wink), we're doing what we've wanted to do since taking our first shower--we Tad ripped that sucker out (it's in pieces on my front porch, under our house somewhere, at the dump....) and hard work (his) never felt better. Why stop there? he also tore out our existing cabinets, and they, too, are in pieces in our garage, on the side porch, in the neighbor's yard...I'm not sure where all the bones are buried.

We do have new cabinets that arrived with only a few flaws (holes for the shelves were missing in one :/), and the shower is about halfway through the process. I keep standing in the frame and pretending to shave my legs (if you saw Willowtree's post/picture, you know I NEED to), and my backside isn't touching the glass (if there was any) of the opposite wall--waahoo! Exciting times are a'coming.

BUT...until then...I'm using my kids' bathroom and toting my "necessities" in an overnight bag. That's fine for a weekend, or even a week, but I guess I'm just missing everything having a spot. Take it out, put it away, take it out put it away. I haven't tweezed my eyebrows in a few weeks now and I think Helga's unibrow is beginning to find its way to my place :/.

Oh, yeah, and there's that "using someone else's shower" thing. Just a change of venue gives you a new perspective and opens your eyes in ways they had been previously (mercifully) veiled. Stepping out of their shower, you HAVE to see yourself in a large mirror. Ugh..... I could've kept the tiny shower to have avoided that :/. It is not wise at my age to give up exercise, no matter how minimally I was doing it. Now, I can see the difference although my jeans have been trying to squeeze this information into my mind for weeks. I ignored them, I cannot ignore the mirror.

So there ya go, Reason #2 I ain't quite right these days, I'm sure I could write about a dozen more, but I really don't wanna scare you away. Even if Halloween is just around the corner :).

While Michele is taking a break from hosting the Blogging Chicks Carnival, the show must go on. Without further adieu, please check out a few of the 400+ chickadees on the BC blogroll :). They're talking about all things "fall".

"Raindrops on Roses" and "Whiskers on Kittens" may be sweet favorites to some, but Karmyn R has a slightly more Halloweenish list of favorites at Dreaming What Ifs....

Fall in Love is the title of a picture post done one week ago at a park close to Pamela's house at The Dust Will Wait.

Kelly at Pass the Torch shares a photo of on e of her kids' favorite autumn leaf activities, in her post, Love is Hide and Seek.

E-mom shares some timely thoughts about Honoring Christ During the Holidays, some traditional ideas and then some.

You want SCARY? I'll give you TERRIFYING! Check out Of Making Many Books.

Fall makes Laurel Wreath find where she hid her spatula all summer long.

In her post, I'll give you a hint -- it starts with a "D", Janice from 5 Minutes for Mom creates halloween memories with her 4 year old son.

Malissa at Malissa's Merry Go Round shares about their trip to a prairieschool house in "A fabulous fall field trip".

CyberCelt has several ghostly posts on Texas RV Travel blog. Read the story of the Lady of White Rock Lake.

Growing up, football was synonymous with fall, but Robin looks at it very differently when her son played for the first time this year--a nostalgic glance at the past contrasted to a very realistic look at the present.

Anna shares an "interesting" conversation she had with a man while on a fall outing to the Renaissance Faire with her family.

Biker Betty shares a hike taken with family and friends in the mountains of Pikes Peak National Forest. It's spectacular during the autumn season. Hiking this route is one way she keeps in shape for motorcycling.

Gattina explains how Halloween celebrations are slowing coming to Europe, especially to Belgium.

Suzy tells us her favourite things about Autumn (Fall!) in her carnival post this week.

Domestic Goddess offers up a Halloween meme of scary Halloween thingies from her life.

Is that even a word? If it's not, it should be. OF COURSE, I can't just wonder, I HAD to look it up, and yeah, if you're wondering, it IS a word. It means upset, confused, and that's what I am. Can't seem to get my feet totally under me since getting back from Florida. Actually, it began there, now that I think about it.

When I woke up the first morning at my aunt's house, when I sat up, the room started spinning. I thought, "Whooooooaaaa", and wanted to put a foot on the floor to stop the spinning. Reminded me of some of those mornings back in "the day"...but on this particular morning, there was no reason to be spinnin'....in college, well, plenty of reason.

I didn't think too much about it until later that day on the beach. Aunt P lives about 45 minutes from the coast, and I couldn't wait to get there! It was a BEAUTIFUL October day, and when my body's that close to sand and surf, well, I'll knock down old women and children to bury my toes in the sand. This is not something I'm proud of, but it's the truth. Forget my aunt, forget my kids, forget Tad, in less time than it'll take for me to finish typing this sentence, I had my suit on, a drink in hand, and cross-my-arms-blink-blink I was out the door. They know this about me, so thank goodness, they're a rather forgiving lot.

It was high tide, so there wasn't much beach to set up a chair, which was fine, because really, how much room do you need? In spite of the salt-rusted hinges, down went the head of my chair in full recline, out-in-a-pop unfurled my hot pink beach towel covering fine woven plastic, and down I plopped, fat, dumb and happy (actually, only one of those three, and if you choose wrongly, I shall hunt you down and hurt you. Choose wisely, I'm discombobulated. And postal.) About this time, the kids had found their way to the beach, too, that's important in this part of "the telling".

As soon as I tilted back my head to lie down, the room started spinning. Except this time, there was no room...instead, it was blue sky and white clouds and a loud ocean and glittering sand and high-rise condos.... aggggggghhhhhh! It was wicked and nauseating and totally disorienting; my first thought was "Oh, no! I've got a brain tumor!" (Yeah, you may laugh out loud, it was funny to me then and it's funny to me now.) Thomas or Stephen asked me something right about then not knowing I was about to hurl the cinnamon toast I had had for breakfast. All I could respond was "Shut up! Don't talk to me!!" which will win me no "Mother of the Year" awards but will earn you a mouthful of vinegar at home (if I follow through with remember the punishment). That is how bad I felt in that instant and my next thought was "I've gotta ride rides tomorrow???!".

When Tad came out, I told him, and he immediately diagnosed my condition: vertigo. Verti-freaking-go... He added matter-of-factly that 90% of people will experience it as some point in their lives, this info from a guy he works with who has debilitating bouts of it.

So, there ya go, I totally believe that's what's wrong with me. This diagnosis was confirmed many times based on internet research of my symptoms (I'm sure real doctors HATE that!), I have yet to see a REAL doctor or be treated for it, and yeah, I'm still dizzy (but mainly when lying down or getting up). If I
r e s p e c t the vertigo (aka move very slowly), I can minimize the spin.

But to prove how much I love the beach and how quickly I've had to "get there" all my life, lookie here: me as a four-year-old bathing beauty, the only time in life chunky legs and a bulging tummy are CUTE. Couldn't be bothered with the time it took to put on a swim cap...Nooooo, I don't need no stinkin' swimming cap...swimmer's ear be darned**!




(** I gotta tell ya...Stephen just came and sat down by me while I was checking this post...and he said pitifully, incredulously in a high-pitched little boy voice, "You CUSSED on your blog??" **sigh** don't think I'll ever garner any Mother of the Year votes...I changed it for him.)

...meet my newest addition. A Le Creuset 5.5 quart round french oven. It will provide a workout just lifting it from the cabinet to the stove.

I have needed had an unnatural affection for coveted really, really wanted one of these since attending a cooking class for soups back in the spring. I've been pretty much like Gollum and the ring..."my precious..." (not so pretty, but true :/). They're on sale for Halloween, so I seized opportunity to snag one.

The color is soooooo "me"...Flame. Yep, that's its official color (which makes me like it all the more). Anyone who likes Caliente for a nail polish color is gonna like this shade for cookware.

I am rather certain anything I cook in this pot is gonna taste 10% better just because. Then again, the 19-year-old wedding Revereware is on it's last leg (literally falling apart), so I think it was okay to rationalize getting a new one.

Soup's on.....y'all come over, ya hear?

...no, I'm not blog-hopping....(s i g h)

...and no, I'm not writing....('nother sigh)

The above non-activities are giving a blog addict slight withdrawels, but the busyness that is precluding all my online activities is keeping mind and body occupied.

But I'm gonna have to take a note outta Swampy's book and make a list of all the things I wanna write about before I forget 'em... Til later, I'll be working on Blogging Chicks stuff, I guess....:/

Guess what? This week I get to host the Blogging Chicks Carnival---the theme is all things related to Fall--past or present. Michele, BC mastermind, has begged pleaded wisely asked some girlie-Qs to take over the task of hosting--I can't imagine the demands of her school schedule, managing a family, and finding time for blogging (she has three sites! Blogging Chicks, the one linked to her name and Reformed Chicks Blabbing-go read her, she's a thoughtful writer. AND, if you aren't already a Blogging Chick and you can wear a skirt without getting funny looks, join the blogroll).

Michele is a great friend to new bloggers, she encouraged me when I had no idea what I was doing :). Oh, my, word! I just searched and searched my blog to find out when I joined the Blogging Chicks--it wasn't until May!! And, since NONE of you could have possibly known I existed then, I was the 100th Chick to join the blogroll, and to say the least, I like to win;). I'm very grateful to have a nice little spot in the Blogging Chicks sidebar.

Gosh, it's funny going back, I thought I joined in March. That's when I let Tad and the kids start reading. Can you believe it? I blogged from September thru May with virtually NO ONE reading (now there are tens and tens of you!). And I really LIKED some of those posts, so geeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Maybe I'll repost 'em and pretend they're new.

Don't forget Carnival submission--email 'em as soon as possible!

The Colbert Report slays me. Everytime I watch. Oh, man, what a sharp, dry sense of humor. I bow to his prowess.

Here, a sparky discussion on the "existence of God with Richard Dawkins, author of the book 'The God Delusion.' No matter where you stand in the issue, two things are undeniably true: Stephen is a satirical genius and Dawkins makes a compelling case...".




HT to an old friend;).

...and sometimes I write for me.

This one's for me. Because I want to remember.

It's not a side often shown "here", so many distractions...and well, it just takes longer (maybe only for me, I dunno). There's so much more to "us" than our next post, huh? It's only when I slow down that I remember that about you. We're not one-dimensional characters on a page, we're complicated people living complicated lives, with a thousand questions that demand answers, most of which are rather simple yet rarely easy. Then there are the questions that desperately scratch and claw, hopefully beg and plead for an answer, and you have to choose a "best" option when none really exists.

Introspective today...the following is a result of that. If you've read me a while, you know this is related to my dad's circumstances; if not, I'm including a few posts which explain further. Don't worry, I'm fine...just thinkin'.



Moments of Beauty
A Different Kind of Father's Day
One for the Daddy's Out There


If you're visiting from a Jenny's "Naked & Free" post, I'd love to hear your thoughts, too. And thanks for letting me "get naked" with you....

(Rachel speaking, dramatically, emphatically).

"I am particular about how I drink my hot chocolate. There are rules to follow.

First, it must be in a cute mug, NOT styrofoam (this is an actual, unretouched photo above, of her favorite mug. It was a picture I found on Ebay because I was too lazy to stop writing to go and take my own picture of HER mug. The internet is amazing.).

Second, it cannot be drunk out of a straw!

Third, it must be sipped s l o w l y, not chugged.

Fourth, it HAS to have marshmellows.

Preferably (fifth) it's best with International Delight French Vanilla added."

Nothing wrong with a kid who knows what she likes :).

So, all that talk about ice cream earlier, and after dinner, I accidently had a bowl of Breyers Oreo (I cleaned my plate). Oh-my-oh so good! The kids were still at the table and I was standing behind our counter eating it (calories don't count if you're standing). I kind of thought out loud, "I really like this ice cream..." and immediately Thomas said, "Did you hear me say that last night?" and Rachel said, "Stephen does, too," and right then and there, my family experienced something we NEVER do.

Unity. Related to food. Tad likes it, although he's "better" than me because he usually opts for Edy's Light Strawberry (ahem, he eats twice as much since it's low cal, so the "better than me" is a gimme).

What better food group than ice cream? Dairy is healthy, right??

Click here and here for an exercise in the obvious. Everyone has a website, huh?

Although I haven't talked about it much, I love to cook. Love...to!

This is wasted on my children (but, thankfully, not on Tad). They're happy with PB&Js or pasta. I keep waiting for them to transition to the "eating me out of house and home" phase, but so far that consists of expensive sugar-cereals and ice cream. They have their favorites in all brands and it requires a tracking system just to keep up. Breyers, Oreo; Mayfield, Yellow Brick Road and Snow Cream; Edy's, Toll House Cookie Dough; Ben & Jerry's, Chocolate Fudge Brownie (wait, that's MY favorite!). The problem is, I only buy ice cream when it's on sale...soooo, sometimes they have to wait for their favorites. I've learned not to make substitutions...they'll just sit in the freezer and morph into ice crystals and rubbery goo, so just no point in venturing into the unknown. Might as well flush the cash.

Yeah, I used to try to cultivate decision making; for some reason the areas I chose to do so were related to food choices and what to wear. That was stupid parenting. Do you hear me??? S-T-U-P-I-D. Now, if we're headed out to eat dinner, they can NEVER agree if we offer them the choice. Never. Even if we agree on hamburgers, someone will want Burger King, someone will want Steak and Shake, and I'm sure one of my cherubs will say Chick-Fil-A, just because of the cow ads. That's beef, right?

But, gee, this wasn't a post about kids. It's about what I cooked for dinner Saturday night. GOUR-MET! And easier than pie!! You MUSTMUSTMUST try it! And then write and tell me thank you and how impressed your family and friends were and that you are now leaving me in your will because you owe me a culinary debt. Ummm, guess I shouldn't take credit for it for any more than passing it along to you. I picked it up from a Fresh Market FREE cooking demonstration, and it was love at first bite! If they have a store in your area, you have GOT to check into these cooking demos--they are MORE than worth your time, the price is right, and everything they've demo-ed, I've replicated easily at home.

Pan Seared Halibut with Scallion & White Wine Sauce

Ingredients:

4 (7-ounce 1" thick) halibut fillets
coarse salt and freshly ground white pepper to taste
2 tbsp canola oil (I used EVOO)

Preparation: Season halibut on both sides with salt & pepper. In a 12-inch saute pan, heat oil over medium-high heat. Cook one side of fish for about 3 minutes (until lightly browned). Turn fish, reduce heat to medium. Cook approximately 4 minutes longer, until fish is opaque in center and browned on both sides. Set aside and cover to keep warm.

Sauce Ingredients:

1/4 cup dry white wine (I sampled it with sauvignon blanc, it was good; I tried it at home w/a Riesling, not good, and a chardonnay, very good!)
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice or to taste
1/2 cup unsalted butter, cut into 1/2" slices (I used salted, it's all I had)
5 scallions, white part only, finely sliced on the bias
1 tbsp capers, drained and rinsed
1 large ripe tomato, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1/4" dice

Preparation: Pour off any oil in pan and add wine and lemon juice. Raise heat to high and deglaze pan by scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon. Cook until sauce reduces by half, about 2 minutes. Reduce heat and stir in butter, one slice at a time (I don't know why, but I did it). Add scallions, capers and tomato. Season with salt & pepper and pur over fish on platter. Serve immediately.

A few notes:

Cookware makes a difference. I have some serious affection going for my Swiss Diamond saute/frying pan. IT alone has made a world of difference in presentation...it browns meats beautifully and nothing sticks! Ever! This line is expensive, but seeing as how I've been married almost 19 years and still have my original Revere Ware, and as I mentioned, I love to cook, this piece seems justified. Not that I deserve it or anything. I loathe that word.

I paired this with sweet and sour green beans and an orzo seasoned with fresh garlic, chardonnay, chicken stock and fresh parmesan. Did I mention delicious? Man, I'm hungry. Stomach's growling loud enough to scare Pumba and Timon (must still be in Disney World).

Sit back, grab a LARGE cuppa joe and read this (apparently after Tuesday for some reason).

Y'all KNOW I'm smiling from ear to ear. Yeah, I'm just a health food nut.

Well, a nut, anyway ;).

...these are some of the stellar shots we got (why it worked on these and not the "good" ones is beyond me...)







lame, lame, lame. Lots of bad words (at least in my mind).

Guess those shots of the "sweet hot mom" in a bikini broke the camera...!

So, I'm minding my own business, checking what y'all had to say before I went to bed (following Grey's Anatomy and a lovely date night with my hubby...) and I saw that someone had done a Blogger search of "SWEET HOT MOMS" and found my post from earlier today...here's what was picked up and I've highlighted the words that were highlighted:

"They beg for hot chocolate, with equal amounts of cocoa and whipped cream in ... and I wanted to hold her daughter to give that mom a break (she was ... I bit my tongue before saying something smart about him taking his own sweet time"

I mean, I ASKED for it when I naively entitled one of my posts "oot-Fay etishes-Fay and a Dream Job (which I later changed to "Foot Fascination..." but I did NOT ask for it with a post titled "8 Seconds" . Which makes me wonder, what in the ha-el are people thinking?! F r e a k s ....>:(

And it also makes me wonder, what are the oddest/freakiest/scariest/funniest things people haved googled/searched to find your blogs?

Monday afternoon was a gray and dreary day in the Tennessee Valley. The rain began after lunch and never stopped. I love those kind of days most of the time, especially when I'm able to stay home. They beg for hot chocolate, with equal amounts of cocoa and whipped cream in my oversized mug. You KNOW how much I like my whipped cream;).

In spite of the weather, "the game must go on", so Thomas had football practice. It's nice to be a kid and actually have "permission" to play in the mud (although, as it turned out, most of their practice was indoors). Why is it his practice pants get dirty no matter what kind of practice they have? But I digress, and this isn't about that, so I'll move on.

He was one of the last teammates to be picked up, I had made a stop by the grocery store on my way. It was one of those "quick trips" that turned out to be ANYTHING but quick; it honestly looked like the weather savants had predicted "snow". In the south, just the thought of snow sends people scurrying en masse to the supermarket, frantically picking up the requisite bread and milk (evidently when it snows, man CAN live by bread alone). Check-out lines were streaming into the grocery aisles--even the self-scan lines--and it required aeronautical skills to maneuver your own cart through the human-connected-to-buggy obstacle course. OF COURSE, their was a young mother with one of those oversized, negative-turning-radius race car carts, two daughters riding, one son walking, middle daughter crying, loudly and inconsolably. While that's enough to send many over the edge (including me), I pitied her, and by "her" I mean mother AND child, they were both equally miserable....the mom, sheepishly muttering both frustrated excuses for her children's behavior and menacingly ordering them to settle down. No threats or bribes work at times like that, and I wanted to hold her daughter to give that mom a break (she was getting enough evil glares) and pre-empt the hide-tanning her daughter was probably gonna get in the car.

Finally, I was released from supermarket hell prison, goods intact (yes, bread and milk were among them), and headed over to get Thom. He called me when I was a block away, and we discussed exactly where the pick up point would be. I figured he'd be standing outside waiting on me, but he wasn't; I was slightly irritated because 1) the afore-mentioned grocery fiasco, 2) I needed to get home with groceries so we could inhale a quick dinner before the 3) meeting that was to begin at my house less than an hour from now.

The way only a kid who has nowhere to be can amble along, he managed to collect his bookbag and equipment and find his way to the car. I bit my tongue before saying something smart about him taking his own sweet time; he's always so eager to tell me the latest and greatest of his day, and I knew that my sarcastic remark would've been more about what preceeded getting there than him being on "kid time".

He immediately began enthusiastically recounting his day as we turned out of the parking lot into steady traffic. And then t i m e s l o w e d d o w n.

Ahead of us was a car, not going over 30 mph due to the traffic and road itself. We watched a lady pull out of a cross road and ram the front of the car and passenger door, pushing the car across the road (in the face of steady, on-coming traffic) and into a ditch. The lady has been at a complete stop, and yet still, her airbags inflated, her front bumper was ripped totally off, the man's door and front right engine were smashed in...his car immediately began smoking and you could smell a toxic smell, I imagined it was freon or something. He jumped out of his car rubbing his head, she opened her door, and walked slowly in shock towards him. Two other drivers, one apparently a nurse, were out of their cars quicker than those in the accident, one calling 9-1-1 and the other waving me to move ahead and get out of the way (he wasn't so nice).

I debated stopping anyway, despite the man flagging me on, but there were so many by this point scurrying around, I reluctantly accelerated past....I wasn't even sure about what I had just seen. It wasn't a "spectacular" accident but it was surreal watching it unfold. Thomas was immediately recounting his version about what he had taken place...and all I could think was...

It was HIS side...8 seconds sooner, and she would have hit us...HIM. Would the impact have hurt him? Broken bones? Worse?? What if he IS too small for the front and side airbags, would they have helped or hurt? Would the timing have been that those in the on-coming lanes would have front-ended us, too? I reached over and touched Thomas and said, "That would've been you...it could have been YOU!" and he said, "Mom...it wasn't. I'm fine...don't worry." And I prayerfully said and meant, "Thank. God." I was thankful for his delay in getting his stuff together and not being at the curb waiting. "Thomas time" kept us safe.

In an instant I was reminded that life is short, but oh, so sweet...and it's intended to be LIVED...and I can never tell the people in my life "I love you" too often.

And then we got home and told our little tale and ate our sandwich dinner and had our meeting. Business as usual. Nothing extraordinary (well, until the lights went out, but that's another story....).

Carpe diem little or carpe diem big, but whatever you do.......Carpe! Diem!

Ok, so this might be funny only to me, but if you wanna see an "extremely revealing photograph" of me, you have GOT to visit Willow Tree today. Somehow, someway, his paparazzi hounds were able to sneak outside my window and snap of picture of what I look like "without all the primping...that she does to make herself look good". This puts Marnie's nekkid pics to shame.

Excuse me while I get some cleaner to wipe the coffee from my monitor.

(Thanks, Pete, I needed that ;) ).

Can anyone tell me why my profile pic moved to the bottom of that page? And more so, how to fix it??

Before I announce "My Favorite Comment of the Week", I thought I'd share a few others that tickled my fancy. I will do this, so as not to bore you with the minutia of my life that has prevented me from posting the results before now. Suffice it to say, "postal" doesn't come close to where I've "been" the past 48 hours....

Favorite Comments Regarding My Contest Idea

This ladies and gentlemen is creative (albeit a little narcissistic) genius at work!!! I am impressed. Sheerly overwhelmed by your level of commitment to "pimpin'" out your site. Way to go! This is definately one of those: oooh, I wish i'd-a thought of that! ~ Stacy (First-time visitor, not sure how she found me :) ).

Holy Crapoli! This is a brilliant, truly inspired piece of blog pimping! "I doffs me hat to yer." I think I might have a go at a couple of these. ~ Willowtree (although he didn't really play along, I woulda loved to have given the Joy perfume to HDW)

Okay you shameless link-getter, I'm in. It may take me a WEEK to read all the instructions, though;) ~ Kelly (This chick is a fave of mine, she's done her share of "pimpin' my blog" when there wasn't a contest at stake. Looks like her week kept her too busy to finish those instructions ;)...and for the record, Kelly, even I had to go back and read what I said 'cause I didn't remember what the contest categories were.)

I am all about shameless attempts at drawing Blog traffic! Anyone reading this... If you would like to see Naked Pictures of Me please head on over to my blog. Check the archives.. they are there somewhere. Tell your friends to look too! ~ MJ (Kudos to Marnie for figuring out a way to pimp HER blog while I was pimping MINE! Quite scarily, it looks like Willowtree was quite literal about naked pictures, one of the few things I've seen since returning home...)

Sad Lame Laughable Attempts(?) at Guessing Where I Was and What I Was Doing

You are taking some "Ice-skating, Flamenco Dancing, and Archery lessons at some New-Age Coffee Barista Camp for Grown-Ups"???? ~ Karmyn

You're on a photo shoot in Malta. Your job isn't to photograph uber-thin models but to provide them with iced bottles of Evian. With straw. Ever time a model trembles as if she's going to faint from starvation, you're to grab a bottle of Evian, squeeze precisely one quarter of a lemon into it, insert straw and hold bottle and straw to model's artificially plumped lips. ~ Sally (sent by MJ and I can't wait to read her based on this comment alone :) ).

You're at Target and said you were hungry and a Target lady brought you a hot dog. ~ Kelly again

My guess is you went to Sea World in San Diego..Is there a Sea World in San Diego? ~ C (do you have a blog???)

Traveling with a belly-dancing troupe ~ LCO

Your family went to a church-wide family camp somewhere in the mountains where you got to learn archery, the Bunny Hop, and roller skate. The snack bar served RC Cola and Moon Pies or Peanut Clusters, whichever you prefer. (Mah Grammy's frum Memphis, yeah) Hmmmm..."small world after all"? Did you meet up with some old friends at the late night sock hop? ~ Erin

Just Plain Random

My easily distracted mind was a littled scared to read that "Joy Eau de Toilette" probably smells divine. My juvenile self read it "Joy Eww de Toilet" - and wondered just how divine does that ewwy toilet joy smell? :-p ~ Piper

Little known fact...Carmen SanDiego is actually Carmen Mirandas cousin..she hit the road and travelled through Cuba, then to Panama...she bought a hat there that became the rage wherever she went. She soon had to start disguising herself with rather large sunglasses as she continued through Venezuela and Columbia. Eventually, she ended up in a little bar near Tijuana and started swimming with the dolphins (not wearing the hat mind you.) This too became a hit. Before long she was mobbed and had to run for the border! ~ C

Marnie told me to come here. Then she mentioned something about wanting to cut off some of my hair to smell it. At this point I'm really afraid not to do what she says. ~ Jenny

I'm like a cyber stalker I guess. Hope you know you asked for this ;) ~ Malissa

Hmmmm...profound

...Compassion answers when a need is announced, but Love looks for a need & meets it with no fanfare. ~ LCO

"Transparency" is not only important I believe it is sometimes the way God stretches you. Let me explain, when you are learning a new skill or a new way of doing things a person has several steps before they fully “learn”. First they are shaken up and told the old way is wrong, then they learn to accept the new way but struggle with the changes, and then finally after they have learned this new way of doing things they share it with others. In doing so, this new skill is made more concrete. Many times while sharing my testimony God speaks to me in news ways, I see things in a new light. I am being transparent when I share my testimony, it is vulnerable for me. I don’t want people to know how much I messed up, let alone stand in front of a room and broadcast it to everyone. Many times while you are hearing yourself speak (through your transparency) you are not only affecting the people you are speaking to but the Lord ministers to you. By doing this, being transparent you are settling any question or doubt you have in your mind about you new life. It is made more concrete, you are telling Satan get behind thee because “with this” you can not win. ~ lrlwreath


FAVORITE COMMENT OF THE WEEK



Well I'm glad I came back into your archives to read this. It has made me think of different situations where I have felt lost for words (a rare thing some would say). I remember when I was going through a very difficult time some years ago and I read Socrates Apology. So here's Socrates, about to be executed by being forced to drink hemlock, and he is still talking, still hoping, still challenging people to look for the better things in life. It wasn't what he said but the fact that he was saying it under those circumstances that inspired and encouraged me. Not what I would have expected to be helpful - but it was. I have a fondness for Socrates now - even though I couldn't quote you a sentence from memory.Sometimes I want to advise and I don't have the advice. But I have learned about being there. I have learned because others did it for me. Just sitting with some-one in silence can be so much better than a thousand words sometimes. Together in his presence. What I have often appreciated too is when I know some-one wants to help. It isn't what they say but the fact that they are thoughtful enough to try. Because knowing what to say in times of grief can be difficult. Great post Robin. Blogging can become so much about the latest post, and yet there is so much in a persons archives that is valuable.



This post pretty much sums up what I LOVE about you, Robin! Obviously - you have a generous spirit, you find good messages in the worst situations, your relationship with God humbles you yet gives you strength, AND you aren't afraid to voice your opinion or show us your weaknesses. All of that combined makes you AWESOME!!


Ok, guys, LONG post, imagine what it was like to write the durn thing. Thanks to all who played along, I loved reading every comment :).

To those of you who won, be sure to email me (check out my profile page for the e-dress) with your addresses so I can get your prizes in the mail.

I've seen this a couple of places and finally checked it out...kinda cool, although I have no idea what it means (if anything).



And, here's another gizmo, but I'm not sure I like the "mythical creature" it tells me I am (cuz I'm not familiar with 'em)....

You Are a Chimera

You are very outgoing and well connected to many people. Incredibly devoted to your family and friends, you find purpose in nurturing others. You are rarely alone, and you do best in the company of others. You are incredibly expressive, and people are sometimes overwhelmed by your strong emotions.

And for the hat trick....just as long as they have nuts!

You Are a Chocolate Chip Cookie

Traditional and conservative, most people find you comforting. You're friendly and easy to get to know. This makes you very popular - without even trying!

And last but not least, this one, ONLY because of my recent contest....

Your Pimp Name Is...

Sweetness Dynamite

If Blogger hadn't uploaded that image just now, I swear I would've gone postal.

At this minute, I am doing something I never thought I'd do in a million years.

I am blogging at a Krystal...and with one hand, flashing the "L" loser sign above my forehead...all the while, thanking God for Wi-Fi at fast food restaurants near my home. I am one of those people you've seen--and thought quite pathetic--before, wondering WHY they would have need to surf the net from a burger joint. Noooo, it can't be an ultra cool coffee shop because they're just too far away...it's Krystal. Their square green burgers scare me now, although as a child, they were my favorite, maybe because of their diminutive size or novel shape. I felt obligated to buy something, so I opted for a butter biscuit and Minute Made original. The lard is coating the roof of my mouth, the OJ helps cut the grease.

I wasn't able to connect from home this morning, we've had steady rain since yesterday afternoon and our server is down for some reason (not sure if there's a connection). Tad finds this amusing. I, as you might suspect, do not.

I'm NOT just here to blog; I'm actually working on a newsletter that needs to be started AND finished today, and there's some info I had to pick up from the net. I figured while I was here, I'd sneak in a post or two. And check emails and see if Pensieve was still operational. The beast must be fed, as you well know.

I can hear your haughty laughter. You're better than me, I sense your air of superiority. And I'm sure you'd NEVER be caught dead doing what I'm doing.

But you might just be caught alive ;).

It took ... a long time, but I'm finally done....reading your comments...WHEW! Note to self: Don't ever...ever...do THAT again! At least not when I'm gone for a week. And then come home to stripping wallpaper. And sports with my kids. And a trip to my dad's. And our furnace going out and having to be replaced with workers in my house hammering and drilling and dropping things and making scary attic noises (and making MORE OF A MESS FOR ME TO CLEAN BEFORE THE MEETING AT OUR HOUSE TONIGHT!!!!). Time for happy thoughts and cleansing breaths............

Some of you have made this VERY difficult for me. Reading your thoughts, I laughed much, and occasionally "thought" much. I love having a blog because I'm thankful to have these memories, thoughts, captured...Some things were VERY familiar to go back and revisit, others, I don't even remember writing.

So........on to the Awards, that's what you're here for, anyway ;).

[A] Reader Referral - Malissa

Although many of her readers are apparent blogger neophytes (5 of her 15 referrals were listed only as "anonymous"), knowing Malissa, I believe they were all different people (one "anon" admitted visiting twice, so I only counted her first time...). The closest to her was Marnie with five referrals (apparently, posting naked pictures was a waste of nudity)(MJ, that's my attempt at routing readers back to ya;) ).

For her efforts, she wins the Mikwright Family Style book and some sidebar lovin' once I figure that out. For now, I'm just trying to get a freakin' awards post up.

[B] Committed Commentor.

Ah.....for this one, not so easy. There were several of you in contention for this. And I was impressed, EVERY comment at least gave the illusion of the post having been read. Since I've only got one Barnes & Noble gift card, I'm adding some runner-up prizes--Mary Englebreit mini books and whatever else I might come up with :). There's a garden-related one for Pamela and a friend one for LCO.

Runner ups: Pamela @ The Dust Will Wait. With 64 comments, you'd think she'd have had it in the bag. Of course, this category was based on content AND quantity, and I had a hard time not "giving" it to her. Pamela has the gift of brevity AND levity. In just a few words, she can brighten my day, she has depth and warmth and humor and wisdom which makes her blog a near daily stop for me (umm, except the past week or two...). Here are a few of my favorites.

Our society is such that we are not encouraged just to give of ourselves... we think we have to give money or goods. Maybe some people just need to have a human touch. Do I have healing in my hands? In my smile? In my ears? Maybe I don't have to say anything at all.

Fitting into his mother's Genes......... he should be very fashionable (re: a post @ Thomas...)

I was apple pie, too. Mine was the one with the lard in the crust. (re: one of those blog quizzes @ what dessert you are)

Traffic jams ... bad. Fruit jams .... good. This post was just plum sweet ! (wit galore)

Beary N'ice. Several times recently I've thought about quitting my blog. Especially when I realize mine is all about nothing. Your have said alot -- which has been thought provoking. (Funny pun; quit your blog? PERISH THAT THOUGHT! and blowing air up my skirt, all in one comment!)

Runner up #2, A NEWBIE! LeftCoastOnlooker, one of the referrals sent by Malissa. LCO does not have a blog but she (?) needs one! By my count, she commented about 60 times. Just reading the comments, I felt like I was blogging. A few of them to get an idea of why she's a runner up:

(from a post about me shopping & learning a new word) lol learning -- now I have 2 reasons to shop. I learned that shopping is biblical. you see, Adam & Eve had a really bad day (ate the fruit, sinned, fell, lost their home, eternal curse, etc), & God gave them new clothes. So, when I have a bad day, I tell my dh I need to go get a new outfit :) Now, I can use the "learning" line, too. Or, research :) But could someone tell me what the heck "DH" is? Darling Husband? Designated Hitter? Dirty Hands??? I see it all the time but I don't really know the translation.

Ooooooo! speaking of education, LCO taught me a new word: facund...that's how she described me/my writing, I guess. It means eloquent (teacher's pet ;) ).

I'm thinking of the transparency of glass, or even a flimsy piece of overhead transparency film. I should be see-through, I should be just the flimsy piece of film, so that Christ can be seen instead of me. Am I still trying to cover it all up, so no one can see how little of Christ really shines through?I think of all of the expectations people heap upon me & wonder if I can be allowed to be transparent --can I do what I do to honor & glorify God, or can I only do what the people want, in order to not offend all of the church people? I haven't found the balance, yet. Serve God or serve the people, seems to be the choice before me. What if your PW got all transparent on you? Would you weird-out, would you gossip, would you judge? Or, would you tell her you have struggled in the same areas & you'll support her and pray for her? I hope you'd do the later, but so far, I've only gotten the former. (It took me a while to figure out what PW meant, and then it hit me..."preacher's wife").

LCO was funny and deep, and didn't agree with everything I had to say. I think she found me a paradox at times (aren't we all??). That stemming from a "multiple personality" comment she made about me....lol.

And for the WINNER of the B&N giftcard....again: Malissa's Merry-go-round. How could I NOT award this to her with 112 comments???! AND they were pertinant. And she's was one of my first readers. And she's sweet. And my original Blogger template was kindred to hers.

Malissa is self-effacing (look how pathetic I am! commenting on a blogging chicks carnival notice.I so must not have a life;) Today I thought at the store--good it's Thursday--maybe I will still be able to comment on the rest of Robin's posts.It's probably a little freaky how committed I am to this project huh?:0)

Funny-- (lol;) Some football players aren't too bad looking either;) My mom (the pastor's wife) says she only watches to see them bending over when they hike the ball (MOM!)

Enterprising-- (I did not see this--but I DID buy a Capt Jack Sparrow new in the box at Goodwill for 3.99 and sell it for $27.00 on Ebay;) long live the pirates;) )

Fashionable;)--(Hey I got toe rings this summer too;) very fun.)

She's a lot more than all that, but I've been working at this post off and on all day, and if I don't get it done, I'll never get to write again or read your stuff again and I really wanna respond to a lot of the comments, and honestly, I'm approaching DTs (I do NOT wanna forget all the stuff I had planned on writing about, and I'm afraid I've already lost much before I had time to download it to my Pensieve:/).

[C] Y'all stunk at guessing where I was. Once I TOLD you, you STILL could barely get it. First stop..............THE BEACH!!!!!!!!!! Then, yeah, M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E....DisneyWORLD.

BTW, the clues were the post titles! The first one was "Where in the WORLD is Carmen Sandiego" with the word "world" in all caps; the second clue was "hop til you drop" and that was a nod to us Park Hopping; we hit three parks/day for two days (Magic Kingdom/Epcot/Animal Kingdom and MGM).

Guess what? I don't MEAN for this to be a "cliffhanger" post, but I cannot spend another minute here. And I don't want to rush writing about the grand prize winner. I told ya it'd be Tuesday possibly before results were posted (and that was before the stuff w/our heater), this is as far as I can get today....hope I still have some readers when all is said and done...not so sure about that :/.

I still haven't read emails (comments) yet...I've skimmed a few (and read current ones), but for those of you who went "back"...it looks like I'll WANT to respond, but it might not be til Tuesday :).

Came home to a home improvement "project"...and we're still above-neck-deep into it...

Plus, soccer tonight...

Plus, looks like I'll be making a trip to my dad's tomorrow, returning on Sunday....

Meeting at my house Monday night, so that means (aaggggggghhhhhh!!) I'll be cleaning when I get home.

Not that y'all are waiting on pins and needles for the Prize Announcements...but just in case you're curious, I figured I'd give ya a head's up.

Anyways...........I look forward to seeing what lots of you have been up to the past week; looks like I gotta go on a hunt for naked Marnie pictures ;).

And again......thanks for keeping Pensieve company while I was "gone"...she's smiling :).

So we entered our neighborhood well after dark last night, and as we make the right-hand turn that will eventually dead-end to my OWN bed, I see this familiar movement out of my peripheral vision--rabbit-like, squirrely even, vaguely doggish.

My fourth babeee :D! The only one I didn't actually give birth to....poocharella, poocha-neska, Aussalina....AUSSIE! WAHOOO!! Car slams into park, rocking front to back from the abrupt reverse in momentum, side door begins its slide but before fully open, in she bounds into eight greedy arms, all selfishly wanting her first slurp hello. She was in full body wag, and bless her heart, didn't know where to turn herself. Nice to be loved...and missed...that much, on both ends. (A neighbor takes care of our pets while we're away, and we're fortunate to live in a place that allows her the freedom of wanderin'.)

. . . . .

Then, there's the part of the drive home that eventually led to me laughing so hard I cried. It began when I stepped into the driver's seat to give Tad a break. It was then he "started", innocently enough: looking for a receipt in my wallet. To his surprise, he actually found it immediately (right where I said it was).

But then, he kept going. The man kept.going. He decided to take it upon his self to "clean out" my wallet. The hair on the back of my neck began to prickle. I was feeling slightly violated. This was entertaining him. He found a receipt for a pair of jeans bought in May (later returned); a receipt from Great Clips for the WORST haircut Thomas has ever had (couldn't get an appointment with Sherrie); a card for a free cut after six paid visits from Great Clips (although there are NO intentions of ever returning); one (sad, lonely) dollar; and his personal favorite, a receipt for $1.99 for shoelaces from Dick's Sporting Goods (who knows when you might need to return THOSE?!).

But, no, he didn't stop there!

Knowing I was handcuffed to the steering wheel, he began cleaning out my pocketbook! Now YOUR hair should be standing on the back of your neck!! I have the shivers just thinking about this again (lol). This is a LARGE purse, airlines would require me to have it checked as baggage. Section by section, pocket by pocket, he learned more about me than I'd want him to know, just when he thought (after 24 years) he knew everything. For the record, I wanted to hurt him cuss him out smack him upside the head, but at 75 mph, wasn't much I could do...but sit there and defend myself while he laughed AT me (now, he was entertaining the kids, too). There was nothing to hide (I've told y'all some of the more random things found in my purse AND car before), and yet, somehow everything to hide. I felt NAKED. Am I wrong, or don't most women have enough junk in their purses to win LOTS of prizes from Monty Hall on "Let's Make a Deal"??!

He didn't stop there! Now I'm just shakin' my head.

From my purse he continued his cleaning......our van has both a glove compartment and another storage area, and methodically he cleaned out both of those; he even tore out all the coupons we'll never use in the booklet local schools sell (retail area discounts or freebies). I think he cleaned out the two pockets on the door, but stopped short of the hidden drawer beneath the seat (he must've forgotten about it, I didn't remind him).

He kept a running commentary on everything he found, he was just a little too amused to suit me. At some point I decided to ignore him...he was like a kid on an Easter egg hunt. Let him have his fun.

About three miles from home, and after over nine hours in the car, I re-thought the whole above scenario and started laughing. Out loud. Uncontrollably. Through the snorts, I told the family it just hit me--the difference between me and Tad. I relieve him for two hours behind the wheel and he's morphs into a one-man cleaning frenzy, could not sit still and RELAX (until well into the second hour). Me? I'm perfectly satisfied to do one of five things, none of which require physical exertion or qualify as cleaning ANYTHING: deep, heady, stimulating conversation (ok, sometimes it's just light banter), READ, snack, write or SLEEP. That's it.

And THAT, my little bloganistas, about sums me and Tad up in a nutshell. It made him lol, too. Ain't nothin' better than a laugh-induced endorphin high. And writing about it is my little payback to him;).

Oh........and the feline.... When we got home, Callie was nowhere to be found. She hid for maybe an hour. When she finally decided to bless us with her presence, she ignored us and beelined straight to her food dish. But even she couldn't ignore my fingernails and Rachel's lovin' for long...her purrs were loud and involuntary. So take that, kitty beast, we know you missed us, too, even if you don't know how to full body wag or slurp us hello.

Oh........the last clue...

It's a small world after all ;).

Ok...here's your Blogger lesson for the day:).

1) :) is a smiley face. Turn your head to the left and you'll see it. :D is a BIG grin. This is a wink ;).

2) No, you don't have to comment as "anonymous". Click "Other" when the comment window asks for your identity, type in your name (and skip your web page if you don't have a blog OR include your page's URL) and be sure to type in the word verification. Even long-time Blogger users are frustrated by this at times...sometime I have to type in 3 sets of letters when it's misbehaving.

Note to whoever is still checkin' in.........contest is still going til midnight tonight.

We did.

Clue #2. Am I being cryptic or completely obvious (I have no idea).

I think I'll sweeten the "Reader Referral" prize.... I believe in "paybacks". The good kind, not the bad kind ("revenge" is not in my vocabulary). In addition to whatever I listed as the prize the other day (I'm still not linking to old posts, go back and read Sunday's), whoever sends the most new peeps to Pensieve will get some kind of sidebar lovin'. Ooooooooo, and chocolate. Yeah, chocolate! I think we'll go with a pounder of M&Ms (representing all the colorful readers you send) or maybe Little Debbies or Moon Pies, since those are "grown" in the South. Winner can choose.

You have a day and a half left to go :). Rock on....!

Clue #1.

Because IF I'm not mistaken, no one's hit a bullseye yet.

Think I might be learning "be careful what you ask for"...can't wait to read and respond :).

Clue #2 coming tomorrow ;).

...and, to be honest, there were more than a few "back then" that I remember thinking would've been nice to have others' thoughts on (listed below by month/title). Gosh, I was melodramatic at times :/.

Haven't read emails (yet) to see where y'all have been with this, but if you're playing along, thanks.

Contest ends on THIS Friday at midnight (EST). I'll read through any comments over the weekend and letcha know the results sometime Monday.

September '05 (Sometimes there are no answers, Who's your Katrina?)
October '05 (My DC Top Ten, only because I loved remembering it again :) )
November '05, had to lol, there's only one post!
December '05 (I Never Thought I'd "Get" Jack Kevorkian, This is what I feel like)
January '06 (All American Rejects...and Bonhoeffer???, Second 1/25 post, evidently stemming from stuff with my dad; What in the Ha-el is in THAT jar? A Partial View)
February '06 (A GREAT Valentine's Day, What 12 Would You Choose)
March '06 (Sometimes it takes very little, BFF, Jesus is NOT my Best Friend!)

That's enough of my opinion...back off to do that thang I'm doing :).

This will be a shameless post...gratuitous...self-serving. You should stop reading right now if those things disgust you (don't say you weren't warned).

If they don't, keep going.

I'm headed out for a few days, and it looks like I won't be able to post anything new. How ironic is that, given my new toy? I won't get to play with it until I get back:/. Bum-mer!

It's publish or perish in the blogosphere......it's not exactly "absence makes the heart grow fonder". More likely, it's "Thank God that's one less Blogline I'll be hearing from...! "

A while back, Willowtree thought a post of mine was nothing more than a shameless attempt to increase blog traffic. It wasn't, not in that case, anyway. Then, WT has an epiphany about why one of his favorite bloggers had such a high readership. HIS readers responded (including this one), it even required a follow-up post (which I ain't linking to 'cause there's already enough of that in one paragraph for heaven's sake), all in all, great fun.

BUT, he DID give me an idea for a couple of posts. It's about time, since he's told me on multiple occasions I've inspired him...which is NOT always a compliment ;) ). This is the second idea (the first one will be written later).

Because it's early, and I have lots to do before heading out, I'm cutting to the chase--

1) I'm having a contest.
2) There will be prizes.
3) I don't want to return home to find out y'all have forgotten Pensieve.
4) I blogged for six months in obscurity...it's a lot more f