Emily Post Would Weep

The crassness level of the general population is simply, ridiculously high. Trying to enjoy a cup of joe w/my daughter at Starbucks and the dinkus sitting next to us was talking on his phone...using push to talk. Not only were we blessed to hear him & the man at the other end - we got to hear some woman obviously on the extension. My word, don't get me all up in your 3-way! Gave him my "be quiet in church" look; too tired to ask him to politely stifle himself so we left (my kid was soooo relieved!) Today the guy in front of me in the check out line at Walmart relieved his gas pressure in a manner that was both audible and quite offensive to my olfactory system! Maybe he should buy some gas drops to go along with the 6 huge bunches of broccoli?!

And since when is being rude acceptable as long as we disguise it as being honest and forthright? Please, it's an excuse to demean, humiliate, make oneself feel superior. Take your pick; of the many combinations that go into making a person believe it's okay to act like a jackass if his remarks are honest or feels the object of his remarks "needs" to hear it, passive-aggressiveness is my favorite dysfunctional behavior. If you are around a person like this long enough it becomes easy to spot and you can prepare. The worst of these offenders is the "stealth attacker." This one seems perfectly sociable but if he even senses some offense by, or short-coming of, another that he deems necessary to point out - watch out! Not only will he call you out, he will do it in front of at least one other person (sneaky yes but not without an audience) and he's not happy with one strike. After his barb hits the sweet spot like a snake strike, he will knock you into the dirt, stuff sand in your mouth and make sure you can't get up - at least for the foreseeable future. Just as quickly as he struck he puts his fangs away until next time. And it's the next time part that's tricky. You can rock along for a while and become lulled into this place where you think you're safe. You're under the radar. And, BAM! You're panting from the blow. The Bible describes it best in 1 Peter 5:8 "Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walks about, seeking whom he may devour." Jesus gave His children advice about it: "I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as serpents and as innocent as doves." Matthew 10:16

My parents were sticklers regarding good manners. Etiquette was, and remains, important. It also was not seen as a 10-foot pole with which you whacked others over the head. It is as much about the respecting the feelings of others as it is about what is and isn't proper. Daddy was particularly vigilant about our education in this area. His pet peeves gave birth to his most reiterated instructions - don't comment on other people's plates, don't embarrass someone if you can avoid it, talk privately about personal matters. My sisters and I knew we better not say "Eww!" or "Why are you eating THAT?!" or we'd get a lecture titled "Don't comment on other people's plates." We knew if we said something to embarrass someone else - even if we meant it as a joke - we knew the lecture that followed would be entitled,"Don't embarrass someone if you can help it - and you could help it!" I think you get the idea. Mama and Daddy believed it made you a small, petty person if you set out to demean someone else or tried to appear superior to them. They believed class was not tied to position or money but to the way you carried yourself and treated those around you. I agree. Some of what they taught me really did sink in!

Manners are supposed to smooth the wheels of everyday interactions. So, hang up your phone and excuse yourself to the restroom - or say excuse me when you can't. Oh and one more thing...make that two: Fellas - pull up your pants. Ladies - vagina is a body part not a hem length! (Sermon over, go eat some chicken!) 'Night and love to all y'all!

Pearls of Wisdom From Daddy (Help - I Sound Just Like My Daddy!)

The blog was a bit overdue but as the subject is my daddy I wanted to give it my due diligence.

For those who didn't know my daddy, one of the defining characteristics of Daddy's professional and personal lives was his expertise in the use of the written and spoken word. Daddy was a graduate of the Grady School of Journalism at the University of Georgia (Go Dawgs!). He was in Naval Intelligence, wrote for newspapers and built a career in public relations. He was very active in local and state politics, once held a seat on our local county commission and wrote many speeches for fellow politicians. As a man of deep faith, he was a deacon in our church. His talent with words, God-given and honed by practice, was also useful in his role as a Sunday School teacher. I believe Daddy would appreciate and laugh at this blog entry because while I am poking fun, I am maintaining my respect for him. Daddy loathed cruelty and despised for anyone to be intentionally embarrassed. He passed those ideals on to "his girls" as well. Anything humorous I attempt is always done with those boundaries in mind.

Traditionally women, especially down South, fear sounding like Mama. I do experience that emotion but, more often than not, it is Daddy who speaks through me. Lord have mercy, kid you not, some days I cannot fathom that somehow these words and phrases - even whole lectures - have not only survived in the deep, dark scariness that is my brain, I can actually recall them with absolute clarity. Daddy, how could you?! You know of all of your punishments, I most feared and loathed "the lecture!" Daddy didn't spare the rod but he LOVED the lecture. The lecture actually punished me by completely numbing my brain until I considered asking, make that begging, for the corporal punishment option. I will always believe that was the hidden agenda; keep talking until she begs for a whack or two. Think maybe he learned that courtesy of the Navy. The lectures did serve another purpose - they taught me great vocabulary. Daddy sure didn't believe in dumbing-down lectures for his children. In first grade I was hearing words like "discern," "accountability," "ludicrous," and "preposterous" during lecture time. He always seemed to know when I was drifting away because that's when he'd throw out the twenty-five dollar word to reel me back in.

Words were Daddy's currency, his talent. Truly a wordsmith, he made it his mission to instill in his girls a love for words. But we weren't exactly jumping with joy at having our own English teacher living with us. Having a vocabulary test on a 5-hour trip to the beach is not a thrill for a carful of kids, trust me on this! History was his other passion (another blog subject - later) and sometimes we got a two-fer; spell this and what date was that? It was frustrating and boring but became interesting and endearing, I grew to appreciate it...very, very slowly!

The first time I heard the word "demented" was in a lecture Daddy was giving to my baby sister. Beth was about six and had left her bicycle beside the porch instead of actually on the porch and it got wet in the rain. During his lecture regarding responsibility, pride of ownership and obeying your parents, Daddy asked Beth, " Are you demented?" Knowing how much our parents despised hearing the answer "I don't know" but not knowing this strange word placed Beth between a rock and a hard place. She finally blurted out "I'm not sure if I'm demented or not!" So it's march to the dictionary time. Beth is six, I'm nine and we're looking up "demented" in the dictionary; refusing to spell for us and pointing towards the dictionary was another of his favorite practices. It was annoying to the nth degree but made me an excellent speller! So we check to see whether or not this word appropriately describes behavior that would lead her to leaving her bike out. We were not happy to learn what it meant. And we're still not sure if we're demented. Personally, I think she is. (Love you baby sistah!) I actually like the word. "Demented" is a word that feels good rolling off of my tongue; "bliss" is the same way for me. Hmmm, the mention of my affection for those two words probably reveals a lot more about me than I ever realized. My poor child has herself been sent to the dictionary - not dictionary.com but an actual 2-volume set - more times than I can remember. She has also been the subject of countless lectures. And I, too, have said," What do you mean, you don't know? That's absolutely ludicrous! Was your head actually with you at the time?" I have asked her if she was demented. I try to rationalize it by not referring to it as sounding just like Daddy but by characterizing it as spreading the pain to the next generation. It works for me and I sleep well.

Another of Daddy's jewels was "That is the most asinine thing I've ever seen/heard!" I must confess I loved the word "asinine" from the first time I heard Daddy use it. I wish I could say it was because I was young and hungry to improve my emerging vocabulary. The truth is I thought it sounded like a curse word. My daddy did not curse so it seemed especially jolting to hear him use a word that even sounded like it could be a curse word. Then I thought it was cool. I found reasons to use it. It must have been very annoying to everyone around me. I'm sure I didn't care. It remains one of my favorite words; a go-to for very specific situations. And it still makes me feel a little naughty to use it. My daughter thought I was cursing the first time she heard me describe something as asinine; after accusing her of acting asinine, I then went into shock so quickly I missed her response. Asinine? When had I become my daddy?!

There are countless other examples that would make this blog interminably long but to throw out a few more of John's gems, here goes: "You're not helping if someone doesn't know what you're doing. Better to be 30-minutes early than 1-minute late. Don't sass your mother; sass me if you sass anyone." (Yeah, right! And my Uncle Ed, the periodontist, would still be replanting my teeth!) "Family is who you have when everyone else goes away. Don't fight with your sisters; I got along with my brothers and you girls need to do better." Oh right Daddy, you got along just peachy with my uncles. You threw a fork at Uncle Richard and it stuck into his calf; tricked Uncle Bill repeatedly into doing your dish duty; you and Uncle Roy tried to electrocute Uncle Richard because you wanted to practice what Uncle Roy had learned about conductivity! Y'all were just shining examples of sibling love and understanding. Family values - ha - Addams Family values maybe!

The one thing he said that cuts through them all and that I truly hold dear to my heart is what he told us after we grew up. He said, "Girls, I want you to always love the Lord, stick together - and take care of your mama. We're trying, Daddy, we're trying. Guess it's not so bad to be just like my daddy. I sure do love him and I miss him every day.

The Joy of Being a Moving Target; (1-800-your-driving-stinks!)

The joy and privilege of driving a vehicle is something we all sometimes, perhaps often, take for granted. We enter our buggy, turn the key and expect to be on our way in moments. As I am not a "car person" all I care about is that it gets me where I need to go. The inner workings of the combustible engine holds no fascination for me nor does the opinion of the editors at Car and Driver . I don't care what the neighbors drive. Please car, just get me on my way.

What does interest me concerning vehicles? Safety. With regards to vehicles, safety is the issue I am most often left praying about - right up there with how did so many idgits pass the motor vehicle licensing exam?! And how do they always know I'm trying to get somewhere? And how do they decide which one of them is going to follow me and try to bash into me? I am nearly convinced there is an "Mobile Idgits Anonymous" meeting at which they all decide whose day it is to vex me with feats of tremendous stupidity.

I'm beginning to treat safe arrivals at my various destinations as miracles. Now, I do thank God daily for my dear daughter, my family, job, hair (well, I do!) and yes, safety - just a few of the things for which my mama and daddy taught a good girl to be thankful. I've also begun to pray that God removes some of these folks from the road in whatever manner He deems fit. Don't misunderstand, I'm not praying for some en masse home going deal - let's get real, some of them aren't going to the same home I'll be settling into one day 'cause they're lost as a ball in high cotton and need a chance to know Jesus before they meet Him. I'll leave the "how" up to Him and just keep praying to feel less like I'm in a video game called "Try to Hit Hope (or @ least aggravate her)," A few of the things you do to earn points include : not using your signals- EVER; pulling out in front of me then driving 10 miles below the speed limit (extra points if you pull out AND are hauling a trailer); take my turn at the 4-way stop because you think stopping behind the car stopped at the sign counts for you, too. My favorite point-earner is riding so far up my tailpipe that you're not visible in my rear view mirror and on Google Earth it looks like I'm towing your vehicle. Y'all are shaking your heads in agreement because you've been trapped in your own version of this game. If not, then it's you I'm talking about here...oops!

Thank you, Daddy, for teaching me to drive defensively. Cleanliness may be next to Godliness but defensive driving will keep you from meeting Him during your daily commute!

Surrounded by idgits, I drove on...safely!

How My Parents Ruined My Life; or how it was before parents started reading parenting books

Maybe this long post is the first chapter of my first book.

Thank you Mama and Daddy for ruining my life before I even had a chance to start doing it myself!! I mean you cannot imagine the horrendous things my sisters and I had to endure. My parents actually repeated these questionable behaviors with 4 daughters. Lawdy, I'm getting a case of the vapors just remembering the experiences. If only Mama and Daddy had had access to all of the experts on child development but the poor, backward things had to make do on the Word of God, generations of common sense and prayer. Lots and lots of prayer.

Before I continue this with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek, a few serious notes must be hit. I miss my Daddy every day, sometimes so much it actually makes me ache. When he left for home, I was left with the comfort that there were no words unsaid between us; love was expressed openly and often; all fences were mended; that he was going to live with THE Daddy in a place of such bliss that even a description escapes the human vocabulary. I love my mama dearly. She never gave up on me because she knew her child - HIS lost sheep - would return. Now my mama may be 83 but it sure hasn't slowed her down much. In fact I have to high-step it to keep up with her on Fridays when I "drive Miss Daisy" over Hades-and-half-of Georgia. She's a handful, honey! Good for her that dinner (that's the noon meal) is included in this deal or she might just have to call a Radio Cab to tote her around! I know, big talk around company - please don't tell her I said all that. She has a cane and she ain't afraid to use it.

Now to reveal how the diabolical plan evolved, in no particular order:

If you can you believe it, they dragged me to church every Sunday morning, Sunday evening, Wednesday evening AND THEN for everything from revival to youth fellowship?! Now with a hot mess like me I guess it was either go to church or to jail for throttling me but still. Oh and they actually stayed and participated in the adult activities; no dropping my sisters and me off. How embarrassing - parents who didn't ditch church! It was mortifying to explain to my friends.

Grasp this if you will - I had to look up the word "babysitter" when someone asked me if I wanted to do that when I was about 12. My parents let my older sisters tend to me on the rare occasions when Dot and John went out without us. Then when I was old enough I had to tend to my baby sister - unbelievable! No paid attendants, sheesh. We were expected to "contribute to the household." Gross! And family vacations meant just that, family. My parents were blind to the need for us to bring at least one friend. Every summer I was expected to actually have fun with my parents and sisters. Being seen in public places with MY PARENTS and sisters simply had to be against the Geneva Convention rules regarding cruel and unusual punishment; places like the beach and Stone Mountain - even the "happiest place on earth"- were not immune from my parents' schemes regarding happy family fellowship. Yack!

Speaking of family, it was like "My Big, Fat Greek Wedding" only it was "My Big, Loud, Christian, Southern Wingding." It was just like the movie; except for instead of Greek's there were Anderson's - and everyone else who wished they were. Mama and Daddy actually hauled us around to hang out with all those people. The relatives I already saw twice on Sunday and at Wednesday night prayer meeting. We are family, I got all my sisters with me...and my aunts, uncles, great aunts, 3rd cousins twice removed. At least the snacks were good! And really I do love them all - they're the best EVAH!

Food was another part of their plan to ruin my self-esteem. Wait for it...we ate together as a family every night. Around a table. We prayed before we ate. Then we were expected to use appropriate table manners and make dinner conversation. And woe unto anyone who commented on the food choices of anyone at the table. My daddy's pet peeve was "tending other folks plates" and it just wasn't done. Not in my home, not around my daddy until the day he died. It didn't matter if my sister drowned her dinner in ketchup and jelly it was her plate and I better shut my pie hole. Better yet fill the hole with pie to keep it from getting me in trouble! Didn't these folks understand the pressure to perform? Where was the empathy for my emerging ego? And my mother didn't just cook good old-fashioned Southern vittles; cooking things nobody else's mother in our neighborhood cooked meant I was forced to taste new things. The angst! The torture! I mean who makes a six-year old Georgia peach like me eat Belgian waffles, Chinese pepper steak, Italian manicotti ?! Mama didn't play either - eat what was on your plate or go hungry. No subbing PB& J or cereal . Eat or die! (Okay so it was really eat or go to bed hungry. Poetic license. Bless your heart - get over it.)

Manners were a HUGE part of my torturous upbringing, starting at home. Elbows off the table; one hand and your napkin in your lap; don't reach across but ask to pass; begin eating when everyone is served; take what you'll eat, eat what you take. Do NOT talk with your mouth full because see-food isn't attractive. Don't interrupt, especially when adults are talking; you wait your turn to be recognized. Yep, ruined my self-worth, my sense of belonging in the world, my right to act asinine in public. Pitching a fit in a public place? I would have been better off staying alone, in the dark, in the J. B White stockroom all night than to face my daddy if I had shown my bee-hind in public. Imagine - my parents backed each other up; a united, impenetrable front. I did not learn how to play both ends against the middle but then again, neither did my daughter!

Thank you, Mama and Daddy, for loving me so much that you ruined my life. You ruined it so I would be fit to live among civilized people (some allegedly so, trust me on this!). I love you!

Oops, I'm supposed to name these popped thought bubbles! and other stuff about me!

Such a professional blogger I am that I absotively forgot I'm supposed to title these suckers...these thought bubbles of mine that burst into posts and have now morphed into blogs. For those of you who harassed ...I mean, encouraged me about blogging, read on. If you don't like it you are certainly free to post a comment but I only like to read positive reviews so don't take it personally if I don't care if your Great Aunt Edna was offended because of whatever offends Ednas. And you frustrated English majors and maybe a teacher or two - I like run-on sentences and dangling things like participles; they're like shiny stuff. I like shiny stuff. I will be using run-ons and dangling participles and persimmons and maybe a parsnip or two (make that carrots; don't like parsnips). Bite a #2 pencil in half while you read all of my errors. The wood splinters provide roughage.

I love Jesus, love my daughter, love my family, love my munchkins, love my church - especially my pastor, love my boss and my boss's boss, love my gray hair, love my big ol' dangly earrings; love words like: bliss, sizzle, joy, ephemera, epiphany, liaison, hooligan, shenanigans, tomfoolery. I don't like cruelty, avoidable ignorance, unattended and rude children - and the adults that own them, bad manners, haughty and overbearing queen bees ( I myself am a queen bee but I am merciful and benevolent. Oooh, benevolent, good word!). I like it when folks remember there was only 1 perfect person, Jesus, and ain't none of y'all Him - me either honey. Love to all y'all. See ya tomorrow!

Reading a friend's post got me thinking about good home training. So oops. one more soapbox post. Feel free to leave now. We are becoming a crasser & crasser society. I was raised to say "please" & "thank you" (the magic words!); to say "ma'am/sir." I said "sir" to Daddy until the day he died @ age 81 & still "ma'am" my mama. Don't agree w/that? Then erase "yeah" & "naw" and my personal favorite "huh?" from your brain. I was raised to rise when my elder enters/leaves a room & to offer to give my seat to my elder. News flash: Men, add doing the same for women of any age - you may run across the rare offended woman but she probably ain't from around here anyway. (Be nice!) And class is not a matter of financial or social status. Last week @ Logan's w/Mama waiting for a table; 3 men sitting in waiting area, 2 in business suits. Who offered my 83-yr old mother a seat? The 3rd man, wearing painter's clothes - thanks! As Mama sat, the 2 "gentlemen" just stared blankly as I continued to stand...dorks! Ladies, cursing is ugly enough in men but, seriously, you kiss your mama or kids w/that mouth?! Buy a word-of-the-day calendar, Google some new words...improve that brain, tame that tongue! (I did, you can too!) Uh,no kid, you can't push all the elevator buttons and have me stopping on 12 extra floors just 'cause your mama is too weak to tell you "no." Tell the 2024 version of Oprah or Dr. Phil about that mean lady - me. Don't send me the therapy bill. And, above all, NEVER, I mean, never ANSWER your phone at a funeral; unless you are on a transplant recipient list or are the transplant surgeon - and even then step away somewhere!! (And yes, I did witness this top 10 rudest moment EVAH! I wish I'd had an Emily Post book to throw at...oops, I mean, give him.) Thanks to all y'all who use your home training. And if you didn't get any, get some. They're free, the benefits are priceless and I'll be happy to hook you up with some! "Night and love to all y'all!

Don't get on the soapbox much - check my timeline if you're feeling doubt. There's so much joy we miss that it's my "thing" to look for joy every day - Laura Brake can back me up on that, right cuz? Now don't twist it - I don't think I'm perfect because I'm a Christian - I KNOW what a hot mess I am even WITH Jesus! But I'm better than I was and when you know better, you do better. Right now I know some folks, including me, who are hurting because of unkind words, because of attitudes, because of presumptions. Life is too short to spend it judging and gossiping. And I'm talking about people who call themselves Christians. It's no wonder the world doesn't think we're any different when we don't act any different! It's easy to love the lovely; it's when we're unlovely that we need our brothers and sisters the most. Nobody's perfect, I get that; talking about patterns of behavior here folks. THINK before you act or speak. Stop spreading the dread! If it ain't helpful or hopeful, swallow it - hear me - swallow it and go on your way. Tell Jesus about it later. The joy in this? I've done my share to hurt others and Him with my tongue, my attitude and I'm forgiven. He has a plan for me, for you - "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 (We'll now sing a hymn and be dismissed. I surrender the pulpit. Amen!)

Random thoughts brought about by recent encounters with my fellow humans: Don't be so open-minded that your brain falls out. Jumping in without looking can result in a cement headache @ the bottom of an empty pool. "Please" & "thank you" are still the magic words. Your failure to plan should not cause my emergency. And at the end of the day... fish or cut bait! Thus endeth the lesson...'Night and love to all y'all! Stay friends with Jesus!

Atticus Finch and courage

Had to share this. My favorite book, second only to the Bible. It's where my baby girl got her nickname, "Scout." So proud that she (Delaney Remsen) & my niece Avery Margaret Meagher decided to pool their resources & purchase another copy for me after realizing the pitiful state of mine! Those young Southern women appreciate good literature and love me...I am blessed.

Atticus Finch: "I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do."

Teenagers and Dinosaurs

Today was another beautiful day in my preschool neighborhood. It may have been raining outside but it was sunny in my classroom. There was one big exception - Miss Eden. Little Miss Eden is usually a bright ray of sunshine, eager to start the day, happy to see her friends. This morning was a whole different side to Eden. I had Eden in my classroom 2 years ago when I started at Grace. I really wanted to go back to teaching preschool but the only opening Grace had was in the "baby" room so I took it to get my foot in the door. What a great year it turned into! Met and worked with two women who became two of my dearest friends, Jasmine and Cathy. And it's where I first met Eden and her cohorts; in fact, six of my original "gang" are in my class this year. So happy to be with the threes because that's where my heart lies. (Put in a bid for 3's last year but they needed me to teach 4's so I did, knowing God would honor my decision. I did, and He has!) Anyway...back to Eden. She cried for about 20 minutes this morning, missing her mommy. I did what comes naturally to me - I sat down in the rocking chair with her in my lap and we rocked and cuddled those little tears away. Rocking was good for both of us this morning. God worked that one out for sure! The arthritis in my lower back and right hip was rearing its ugly head and sitting in my rocking chair gives me relief; rocking Eden was good for what ailed both of us.

Now onto the teenagers and dinosaurs. Scout has a little stuffed dinosaur she carries around in her purse, named "Torrosaurus." We rescued "Torro" from the reject dollar store bin. It looks like it was sewn together from a bunch of leftover parts of other stuffed animals; head of an elephant but with a blunted snout, mouth like a lop-sided shark and the rest is kind of generic. She loves the poor, sad thing. It went to Europe with her last year on her "People-to-People" trip. It has gone on several other vacations, including vacations without her. Scout's friends love the little freaky animal, too, and have taken it places. That thing has been places I've only read about!! What can I say? My kid is definitely unique - and I LOVE her!

More dino news - Scout came home Monday and announced that she wanted a dinosaur coloring book. Okay, I thought, is this for school? Nope, turns out she wants to color for stress-relief purposes. Well, coloring is relaxing. (If you haven't colored lately then you should try it. ) My girl does have a pretty hectic schedule so I can understand needing a quiet activity. Just caught me a bit off-guard for a 16-year old to ask for a coloring book. But hey, sure beats the heck out of some other activities teenagers are engaging in. So...yesterday it was off on a dinosaur coloring book quest. When we found one at Dollar General it was like Scout had won money on a game show! Dang, if I had known spending a dollar on her would extract such an excited response I would have done it sooner. I thought she might have to change her drawers when we got home!

I felt like I spent 5 hours in the car yesterday. Picked Scout up after middle school ball game. (Greenbrier High's band plays @ 1 middle school game per year.) Went on the dino-quest. Looked for ink for our printer. Back home for supper. Back out to continue ink hunt. Gave up ink hunt and came home. Felt like I was still rolling for 30 minutes after coming home. Do I need a tune-up? Are my fluids level?

Goodnight and love to all y'all!

Just Monday

Yipee! Fall weather has arrived; now if it will last. One thing about the weather in this area - if you don't like today's, stick around because it can drastically change - in a matter of hours. Many's the day when I've had the heat and air-conditioning on in the same day. Too many times for me to count I've experienced all 4 seasons...in a week! But the weather is one of the reasons we Southern women age so gracefully. The humidity keeps our skin nice and hydrated. I repeat like a mantra when I'm melting like a popsicle in a toaster oven - "This is nature's facial, this is good for me. " And I keep loading my pocket fan with new batteries like I'm feeding quarters in a pinball machine!! I've even been known to use it in church, much to spouse's chagrin. The first time I used it during the service, he asked me if was I really going to run it while Pastor Bill was speaking and if so, what if he didn't like it? My response was (1) I didn't believe Pastor Bill would be bothered by it and (2) if he were deluded enough to confront a menopausal woman about her cooling device well, he was just taking his life into his own hands! Besides, I would just tell on him to Leila and she would take care of him in fine fashion. Honey I loves my pocket fan. As my mama would say, I need to go back to WalMart and give them some more money for that thing. Laugh if you will at my whirring, little, $3.98 plastic gadget but someone in China was having a very good day when they packaged that little jewel!

This weekend was very much a mixed bag for me. Friday was difficult because I had both a migraine and an attack of fibromyalgia facial pain. The facial pain is something new I've been dealing with for a couple of months. My glands on the right side of my neck swell so much that they press on a nerve, or bundle of nerves, running from my ear to my jaw. Pain meds alone barely touch the pain but alternating heat and ice as well helps ease the pain. There is no such thing in my life as pain-free; comfortable is sometimes achieved but usually it's just dealing with a level of pain with which I can live; 4 out of 10 on the pain scale is a good day for me and that's without the facial pain. By Saturday I was much better. Delaney and I had a quiet day at home . A nice supper Saturday evening followed Georgia's heart-breaking loss to LSU. Unfortunately, just as the Dawgs thought they had those Tigers licked so I thought I had my facial pain licked. It was but a brief respite because the pain came roaring back around midnight and I was up until 4 a.m. Determined to allow God to use this for His glory, I went to Sunday School and church anyway. And He showed up and showed out for me. Instead of being tired after church, I felt renewed and physically comfortable. I even cooked dinner. Our church had a fall fellowship in the evening (food, games, etc) and I was able to go with Delaney to enjoy it. I had fun playing "Scattegories." What a blessing it was to be in His house and with His people on His day. It always, always amazes me to see what God can do when you are literally on your knees, crying out to Him. He hasn't shared His plan for me but I know that I know that I know there is a reason I am walking through this valley - through this valley because I will exit it. One thing He has revealed is the opportunities I have had to interact with people experiencing their own kinds of pain. There have been people who seem to have been waiting for someone to listen, to understand, to just be there and I guess God put me there to be that person. There are seasons and divine appointments of His choosing. It's anybody's guess why in the world God would choose me!

Today was another lovely day in the preschool neighborhood. The rain kept us inside today, drat! But we didn't let that ol' rain stop our good time - it just meant more singin' and dancin'. It's great to be 3 and simply know that you are a fabulous singer and dancer. They truly do praise the Lord with all their heart, soul and might. I love watching our little munchkins and their uninhibited, joyous, hip-shakin' confidence as they swagger around the rug, singing at the top of their lungs. Now that's medicine you can't buy anywhere and it makes me feel good all over!

Love to all y'all!

My Crazy Life

Good glory, I'm behind again! This time many forces joined against me but I shall not be defeated! Encumbered by idgits, I pressed on. Wow, where do I begin?! The cord to the computer became totally frazzled, kind of like me, and just stopped working; I don't get THAT option - gotta press on. So, we were out of the computer biz while we waited for a replacement cord to arrive via snail mail.

Wouldn't have had time to Facebook or blog anyway because...early Tuesday morning my mother had to be taken to the emergency room because of chest pains. Catheterization showed no blockages; ultrasound showed no clots. Docs think it might be something pulmonary but not serious; perhaps asthma. Anyway, spent the day w/Mama & sister @ University while my co-teacher & directors graciously held down the fort for me in the classroom. Whew! And that was just the beginning of the week.

Had a great week in the classroom. Love love love my munchkins! And this is one of my favorite times of the year. There is just so much to do with autumnal themes. (Hey, nice word - autumnal. I is no dummy!) We went on a nature walk on Wednesday. We gave the children a "tape bracelet" and encouraged them to put little weed flowers, leaves, etc on the bracelet. They absolutely loved it. It is so much fun to see things through their eyes. As a teacher at Grace and a church member, I'm on the property a lot. But when I'm with my class I see new things all the time. There is an area on the property that leads into a little copse of trees and you can't believe you're still so close to civilization. Once you enter the area, it's like being in the middle of nowhere. (For those of you familiar w/Grace, it's down the path past the office and down toward the softball field.) What a beautiful little piece of God's green earth, put there just for us to enjoy His handiwork. May sound silly to some but when we can, it's a nice little hike for the children and they like pretending they're going on a bear hunt. Oh and this is cute too - the volleyball field is white sand. Deer, raccoon, dogs, etc, cross the sand and leave tracks. It's so precious to take children out there in the morning and let them see the animal tracks. And because there have been humans out there as well and their footprints get distorted, the children are simply convinced bears and other big animals are crossing the sand, too. I don't lie to them, but who am I to say none of them are bear tracks? There have been bears, boars and coyotes spotted in our area so, who knows? What I do know is the imagination and excitement of my children is almost palpable!

Scout is doing her high school thing. It's been a rough week for Greenbrier. The young man who died at the track was not her friend but it was difficult for her just the same. If you follow my blog, please pray for a hedge of protection for Greenbrier and for all schools. But Greenbrier has lost 2 young men and nearly lost Haley Van Pelt in a wreck - all since this summer. Homecoming was this week and with it came all of the crazy dress-up days. Like me, Scout really goes in for the dramatic, though I must say she's not quite as apt to draw attention to herself as I am. She has found her niche at church in the Kid's Alive program. She works in KA once a month and is in the skit ensemble. They do such a great job of really making the lesson "live" for the children. It really grabs their attention. So proud of my baby girl for finding a place of service at Grace.

The Dawgs lost tonight but my baby girl is home so it's still a win for me!

Love to all y'all!

I am Behind- no not I am a behind!

Good glory! I really have been busy. What is up with not writing in a week? That makes 2 weeks in a row I've done that. Guess it really is good that this blog is ultimately for me because honey, I sho' can't make no money writing if I don't write, right? Clear as mud, huh. Sure hope nobody in my family needs an alibi for the past week, including me. Lawd, that's why I started journaling. Well, not for the alibli factor, but because I wanted to remember stuff. Important stuff. Dumb stuff. And sometimes, just stuff. Heck, it took me 20 minutes to remember what I had for breakfast - today. Yikes! And, apparently, it's as hard for me to find my laptop sometimes as it was to find my journal and a pen. I really did write nearly every day but occasionally, I did have lapses like this one. Some of my journals have lapses here and yonder of a week or two then...bam! Back to the every day entries, back to the important stuff, dumb stuff and stuffy stuff. Good thing I wasn't in charge of copying down stuff Jesus and the disciples said!

It has been a wonderful week in the preschool neighborhood. Our class is so precious and sweet. It is amazing how 17 little personalities can mesh and blend and all can be well, almost all day. God has truly blessed Ann and me with a great start. If these last few weeks are a portion of what is to come, our year will be amazing. Every year is different; every year has its challenges and triumphs. Every year I fall in love with each child and treasure their memory. I wouldn't trade any year I've taught. Working with 3's is where my heart is so I suppose I'm a bit biased in my feelings for this year. I feel like I've come home again.

School, work, Scout's band practice, church...this week at the Remsen adobe has been uneventful - thank you Jesus! Life is supposed to be only interrupted by emergencies; mine often feels like a constant emergency interrupted by brief periods of normalcy. Every time I share that with someone they tell me that at times they feel the same way. So, I suppose normal really is just a setting on the dryer! (Thanks to Liz Curtis Higgs for that little gem.) If you're looking for normal at my house, keep walking sistah..keep hiking bruddah 'cause we are fresh out here! But if you want a hot meal, a laugh, a prayer and some love, well step on over the threshold and make yourself to home.

One very exciting and definitely unexpected surprise occurred today. I received a notification from the Augusta National that I have been moved from the waiting list to the patron list; I will receive badges for the Masters Tournament, beginning 2010. Yahoo!!! When the National purged the old waiting list, I was lucky enough for my name to be drawn from the practice round ticket holders and placed on the new waiting list. There was no guarantee of how long I would wait to receive badges; only a guarantee that sometime in the "foreseeable future" my name would be placed on the patron list. The foreseeable future turned out to be about five years - not bad considering some people have been waiting for twenty years. Thank you God, for such a lovely surprise. And no readers, you cannot have my tickets. I haven't had regular access to a badge since I was a teenager and Daddy got badges. For years I've gone to the tournament on the good grace of others. When I was chosen to receive the practice round tickets it was a wonderful bonus to receive as well. I just wish my sweet daddy were alive. My first urge was to call him and tell him. Of course he is in a place more beautiful than the Augusta National golf course and I wouldn't take him away from the presence of our Heavenly Father even if I could. It's just that this is another one of those things that makes me miss Daddy.He would have been so happy and excited. When I called Mama, the joy in her voice was almost palpable; the happiness she felt at something she knew I really wanted was just how we want our mothers to react. Mama said she also knew Daddy would've been thrilled for me. Okay, enough crepe hanging. Daddy would say, "Get on with it, girl!"

So...Whoo Hoo!!! I'm getting Masters badges, I'm getting Masters badges!! But that doesn't catch up my blog. I'm still behind BUT no, I am not a behind!

Love to all y'all (but you still can't have my badges!)

Playing Catch-up

Wow, it's been 1 week since I last journaled. It is so easy to lose track of time, especially when there's lots on the family schedule. When things are busy I'm prone to get a little addlepated And then there's the fact that some days I'm the windshield and some days, I'm the bug!

I'm off on Fridays but Scout marches in Greenbrier's band on Friday nights. That means getting her back at school about 1 1/2 hours or so before the game starts. No time for supper but she doesn't like marching on a full stomach and doesn't like eating at the game. But she does drink water like it's all scheduled for evaporation in the next 24 hours! After the game is when she's hungry enough to eat a water buffalo, fresh on the hoof. Friday night it was a Wendy's burger and about a gallon of Co-cola. There we all were at midnight, around the table, scarfing burgers. Good times!

Those band geeks have such a good time together! They all have these crazy nicknames and slogans for their sections. Delaney's nickname is oddly enough not "Scout" but is "Delanore" which is what her cousin calls her. By the way, band geek is their term and they are proud of it. So proud, in fact, that when a girl at school tried to hurt Scout's feelings by calling her a "band nerd" my baby's response was, "Well, if you insist on call me names at least get it right. I'm not a band nerd, I'm a band geek!" Hilarious!! Scout did pay attention to some things I've taught her. I've told her more than once that if you make fun of yourself first, it defuses the situation; giving the bully no where to go is frustrating and they usually give up and just go away. And there is always the "worst" thing you can do to a bully - pray for them, yikes!! We did that once. We began praying about a young lady who was making it her mission in life to hound and belittle Delaney. We even asked our prayer warriors, one Wednesday night at church. to pray for the bully and for God to intervene on Delaney's behalf. The bully was amazingly transferred out of every class she & Delaney shared - the NEXT day. Sometimes when His answer is "yes," it is also immediate.

Sunday morning Pastor Bill was continuing his sermons based on Exodus. During his message he was speaking about resting on the Sabbath. At the invitation he asked to pray for anyone who felt weary, "give out", just plain exhausted. Delaney & I went forward to pray with our youth pastor, Bryan Carter. Delaney had an especially long, exhausting week - long band practices including an extra one, lots of tests & homework, Wednesday night service, Friday night ball game. We asked Bryan to pray that God would give Scout an extra portion of strength and at the same time, the discernment to know when to say "enough" and when to rest. It was such a sweet time between the 3 of us and our Heavenly Daddy.

Wished I would've asked him to pray about Scout driving us home from church. But as I am alive to journal He obviously had His eye on this sparrow...driving a truck.

Come Monday I found out that, over the weekend. one of my younguns @ school had bonked his head and required 2 stitches. He was fine to come to school and we were asked to just make sure he didn't re-injure the area. After 2.5 seconds outside, He promptly banged his head on the play equipment! Different area on the head, halleluYER, and no blood. And 10 minutes later, BLAM! Yep, he hit his head again - different spot, no blood. We encouraged him to sit in the shade and play playground guard; he liked that new game and managed to escape further injury that day. Believe it or not...he repeated this scenario on Tuesday. It's that "weebles wabble but they don't fall down" thing when a kid's head is out-of-proportion to their body. I think bubble wrap or a personal safety spotter may be the answer in this case!

Enjoyed a treasure dig at the Salvation Army on Tuesday afternoon while Scout was @ band practice. Found 6 great childrens' books and paid $1.30 total ; 4 were hardbacks, all were in great condition.Actually found a lot more but I restrained myself. Found a new Target-brand Christmas wreath; am going to spray paint it black and decorate w/mini-pumpkins and other Halloween decorations. Just saw that idea in some Autumn/Halloween idea article - paid $1.29 for the wreath, yay! Big package of silk leaves, originally from Michael's, still in original packaging - 59 cents, yay! Alone time paired with inexpensive retail therapy - priceless!

And now comes the "BOOOO" part of the week. On Wednesday morning I awoke with a flaming case of the crud, a/k/a the epizutic, the pharfalonis of the blowhole, the icky. Couldn't go to work unless I planned to share this lovely plague. I don't really relish the idea of 16 sets of parents storming my home and dousing me in Lysol in retaliation for giving them the gift that keeps on giving - giving until all family members have been recipients of my unselfish generosity. And sometimes that stuff goes around twice, yippee! Went to the doctor today; she peered into my ear, visibly stepped back, and exclaimed, "Gosh, it looks awful in there. No wonder you feel like crap." My sentiments exactly. Her directness is one of the reasons I love Dr. Mason-Woodard. She confirmed I didn't have porcine pestilence - swine flu - but just good old-fashioned crud. Crud is such an apt name, who cares about the Latin! (Technically speaking however, I have ear infections and sinusitis. Yes, you read it right -ear infections, plural. As in both ears. Yikes!) A few hours after the first mega-dose of antibiotics I feel better already. And I found the joy in this situation: transportation to a doctor; health insurance; the money for the co-payment; the money for the "crud curing" medicine; and finally, a teenager to wait on me, to be at my beck-and-call, halleluYER!!

Now I must sleep.

Love to all y'all.

Journaling

Guess "Journaling" isn't a clever title for today but as this is my blog, I suppose I'm free to be as creative- or not- as I please. Today's entry, and I'm sure some yet to come, will read more like a recitation of the events of my life. It is meant to be an online journal and not a column. It does give me joy to know there are folks who read this; if you do, please give me grace on the days I fall short of your expectations. I fall short of my own expectations so much I should wear some sort of protective gear, like one wears to skateboard, only designed to protect me emotionally. Guess that's kind of what God's grace and mercy is all about. We weren't promised an easy ride, just some cushions in the wagon.

Scout and I had a quiet night at the old adobe. "McGyver" here rustled up some good groceries for the two of us. My poor Scout is nearly worn to a nub - a nub I say - from 3-a-week marching band practices followed by Friday night games. And that's in addition to homework and Wednesday night worship. No wonder she needs a nap in the afternoons and sleeps until noon on Saturdays. Honey, that girl has always needed her sleep and is absolutely poisonous when sleep-deprived! But come Sunday, she is always raring to go to Sunday school and the morning and evening services; same gusto come Wednesday evening for Youth Worship. Jesus seems to be her "Red Bull." Hallelujah!!

Today was another lovely day in the preschool neighborhood. We have such as sweet little class. We are having a good time, learning through play about God and the beautiful world He created for us. Ann and I feel so blessed that we keep waiting for the proverbial "other shoe" to drop and things to fall apart. It is certainly to God's glory, not ours, that our plans are coming together and the children are thriving . It does help to always have a "Plan B" in our hip pocket. Some days you do have to fake it 'til ya' make it! It is such a blessing that no matter what is going on in my life, in the world, in other classrooms - when we shut our classroom door, all is right in our little corner of the world. For five hours, I get to work and play with 17 of God's miracles . For five hours, I get to live in a world where the color of the crayons chosen are more important than the color of skin; where the fact that "Mommies" pack lunches with love is more important than the latest diet; where how loud and joyful we are when we sing, and that our praise is as unto God, is more important than how we sound and if we're any good; where the biggest conflicts are solved with prayer, band-aids, "I'm sorry" and a hug; and where we are free to talk about the truth of The Father, Son and Holy Spirit from the time we enter in the morning until we shut the lights off in the afternoon. It's all good in my preschool neighborhood. To God be the glory for the great things He has done and for the hope of more to come.

Love to all y'all!

Cloudy with a Chance of Tears

I still am marveling that my precious girl is 16. I am still marveling that God blessed me with that desire of my heart. It is daily that I pray to stand before Him one day and know that I know that I know that Bill and I did all we could to raise Delaney in a way that pleased God. From all of the comments I hear, and the ones I read on Facebook, she is a blessing to those in her life. And she has blessed those who may never know her through her mission work. She certainly blesses my life; though there are days when I could roll her up in a blanket and lock her in the closet for a couple of hours!! I'm sure God feels that way about me sometimes, too! Tonight was a "top-of-the-blanket" rather than rolled-up-in-the-blanket night. Simply love it when she comes in and sits on the bed with me and just dishes and chats me up. She is dealing with some hurt feelings right now. Delaney is mature and handles adversity very well but she hurts sometimes; no matter how mature we are, bruises hurt - heart bruises are often the most painful. She was feeling "cloudy with a chance of tears." These are the times as a parent that I want to go blow up the cause of my child's hurt. As a Christian, I know I must make choices that point to the cross. I don't always make the grade. How grateful I am that God's grace and forgiveness are given to me daily, His mercies are new each morning.

Today was also a "cloudy with a chance of tears" day in my classroom. Several of the children were clingy and tearful; children who normally come in cheerfully were not. Thank goodness they were not arriving at the same time because Ann and I were tending to them and greeting others as they arrived. My rocking chair, a gift from my dear friend Sherry, was rocking into overdrive today. As I rocked and soothed little hearts, I couldn't help but think: how better would we all feel if we could get a little rockin' and a little TLC whenever we felt bruised and pushed around by the world? I talk to my children each day about the depth and breadth of God's power and His love. As much as I teach them to understand this concept, it helps reinforce it in my heart as well. I explain to them that God is so big and strong that He can hold oceans in one hand and the stars in the other, yet He is so small that He and all of His love can fit right inside our hearts - and there's enough of that love for every single human. Amazing doesn't begin to describe that miracle!

Thank you, Lord, for loving me and giving me family and a job I love. Thank you for the love of my children at school. Thank you for a co-teacher who is a hard worker, creative, loving and giving. Thank you for the parents who encourage and uplift me in prayer. Thank you for letting me work and play with your little promises - the future - every day. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to love on them when they feel "cloudy with a chance of tears."

Love to all y'all

Welcome to the World, Baby Girl

What a lovely, peaceful weekend! The only thing missing was church. We went out-of-town for the day and had to miss church. Good thing God knows where I am all the time and goes along for the rides. Went to Peg's yesterday to celebrate Delaney's birthday. God, thank you for blessing me with such a loving mother-in-law; Peg's home is a place of rest and refuge from the busy world. She cooked some good groceries and we ate 'til it was almost shameful...almost! The chocolate birthday cake she made, with old-fashioned boiled chocolate icing, was so good it made my teeth ache. I bore the pain and decided to have a second piece. It was a little bittersweet as yesterday was "Grandy Bo Harold's" birthday. Losing him 9 years ago was so difficult and we miss him still. We have comfort in knowing we will one day see Grandy Bo again when we meet our Heavenly Daddy. "Bad Bo" would have laughed at Peg, his nephew Jason and me yesterday plucking freshly killed doves and pulling their breasts out. Thank goodness we had at least the sense God promised a goat and proceeded with the operation outside because the feathers flew, honey! To be such tiny little things, dressing those doves is a messy undertaking (pun intended). Bo would have enjoyed the fellowship afterwards as we sat on the porch, rockin' and talkin'. You can solve the problems of the world given enough time rockin' and talkin' on a porch. I love rocking chairs so much I have one in my classroom; reading to my class while I rock is such a joy!

I fell in love with rocking chairs when my baby girl came along. Delaney Elizabeth "Scout" Remsen was born September 7,1993 at 9:10 p.m. She took her sweet time getting here and right before she made her appearance, we had a scare that she might not make it to this side of heaven. But God's plan was for her to meet the world. He saved her. And He saved me.

Jesus saved me in every way He can save a person. He saved me for Himself and from myself. He saved me to love, serve and worship Him. He saved me from a life of rebellion; from pain without hope or comfort; from trying to fill a God-shaped vacuum in my heart with everything BUT God. He saved me to show me what my parents taught me, that there was a better life out there with Him as my Guide. Do I enjoy a perfect life of constant bliss? Not a chance! He never said I wouldn't fall, that I wouldn't hurt, that happiness would be my constant companion; He said He would always be there. He said this life is a vapor and that life on the other side would be bliss. Like the Bridegroom He is, God will be there for better or worse; He does honor His vows; death will not separate us but will unite us. He also saved me to be Scout's mommy.

When Bill and I were dating and things seemed altar-bound, I had to tell him that biological children were probably not an option. I told him all about endometriosis (more than he wanted to know, truth be told) and my prognosis. When I then told him about my probable infertility, he paused only to take a deep breath and say "Well, if my Grandmother Lottie can do it so can I. I can love someone else's child as my own. Let's look into adoption." What? We had not even set a date but Bill knew his mind and heart. His grandmother married at 19 and instantly had 5 step-children. She went on to have 2 biological children. One would never know the difference in her love and care for those 7 children. She loved them all ...and at times wanted to pinch each and every one of their heads completely off!

Subsequently, Bill experienced my numerous trips to the doctor's office; accompanying me on trips to the emergency room; supporting me through a surgery...all before "I do." Bill doesn't scare easily and he doesn't run from adversity. He even had the pleasure of seeing me after my wisdom teeth were extracted; can you say "chipmunk on Demerol?!" My hormones were out-of-whack, as opposed to in-whack, and at 28 I was experiencing hot flashes, crying jags and gained 40 pounds. Oh yes, it was a formula for relationship success, honey! I felt like a Lifetime disease-of-the-week movie, without the sexy wardrobe and perfect teeth.

In November of 1993, two years after I married, I had a routine test come back as suspicious for cervical cancer. It was devastating. We had tried since our honeymoon to have a baby. Forget home improvement projects, we were on a mission!! We were trying to be fruitful and multiply; the fruitful part we had down pat; it was the multiplying we were having trouble with. (I never have been great at math.) My mother, the undisputed head cheerleader for lost causes everywhere, refused to believe it was God's plan for me to have cancer. She believed I would have a baby. That is NOT what I wanted to hear. I thought she was absolutely nuts and I think I told her that. Then again, maybe not because I still have all of my teeth! I was angry with God, so hurt and I made no attempt to hide my feelings. Constantly, for 2 years I questioned Him, "Why is it that there are women who don't even want children pop them out like peanuts, one after the other, but I couldn't even have one that is the deepest desire of my heart?!" If one more of my well-meaning friends and relatives had told me "God has a plan" it was highly-possible this blog would be coming to you from a women's prison. I was ready to burn down the next person who smiled and lilted one of those Sunday School sayings my way. Then, as Gomer Pyle would say, "Surprise, surprise, surprise" a biopsy revealed the previous test to be a false-positive. And three weeks after that, I found out I was pregnant. Okay, okay I know, God did have a plan. Delaney Elizabeth was on her way.

You have never seen a woman who was 1 month pregnant try so hard to look like she was showing! I went straight from Dr. Oldham's office to the mall to buy maternity clothes. I was wearing them before nightfall. I was walking so bent back I looked like a sway-backed mule . I did get some strange looks. It seems so ridiculous now but honey I was so happy to be at the multiplying stage that I wanted everyone to know it. By the time I was 6 months along I no longer had to fake that sway-backed mule look. I was in high cotton in those days, beyond thrilled to be a mommy-to-be. Even the eventual swollen feet and general discomfort were a blessing to me. God not only gave me the desire of my heart, He gave me the ability to chose the joy in every aspect of it. "...for the joy set before Him, He endured the cross..." (Hebrews 12:2) The joy of the cross? Who am I NOT to find the joy in each situation? I didn't feel happy about some of the pain and difficulty but I did choose the joy of the situation. I chose joy at knowing the things I was feeling were because I was carrying a promise coming to fruition; joy that if these discomforts didn't exist I wouldn't be receiving this blessing; joy at knowing that a beautiful miracle awaited me at the end.

In my prayers, I had promised God that if He gave me a baby I would raise that child to know Him. Just like Hannah gave Samuel to God as she promised, Bill and I have given Delaney over to Him. Delaney has such a heart for God and His service. She loves church, her youth group, service projects, Bible studies...all aspects of praise, service and worship are where her heart lies. How blessed we are to have a daughter like Delaney, not perfect but who has a daily walk with a perfect Savior. Welcome to the world, Baby Girl!

Love to all y'all!

Friends are Family

Thank you, Lord, for one of those just...simply...great days yesterday. Took Scout to school; got my wig fixed (i.e., haircut); ate supper with friends while hubby worked and kiddo was at the ball game. Nothing to set off fireworks about; my joy about the day would probably bore the socks off of a lot of folks. Just digressing here a moment but...I get "knock your socks off" but - how exciting can the life of a sock possibly be that one could do anything SO boring that it would cause aforementioned sock to simply drop off of a foot?? I would imagine the life of a sock is already boring and smelly; even the socks of, say, Lance Armstrong, still don't do anything but sit inside the shoe. Now the shoe, she gets to see some things! The shoes are where it's happening on that end of the body! Just saying... Okay, time to take some meds and get back to the subject of friends.

Cathy is one of my best friends. Working at Grace as preschool teachers brought us together. We hit it off and now we are like peas-in-a-pod! Perhaps because we grew close under some difficult circumstances, we had to be real with each other and right quick, too. No time for the shallow, had to dive right into the deep end together. As firefighters say - you go, we go. God was really looking to bless me when He brought Cathy into my life. She and I are so close you would think we had been friends for decades rather than just 3 years. Cathy has that fragrance the Bible talks about that draws people to her. She has quiet strength and a loving spirit with a servant's heart. Now it is beyond me how God knew that someone as loud, bossy and sorta shameless as me would bond with a gracious, sweet woman like Cathy! He knew I needed someone who would love me "just 'cause!" I am blessed to have other friends like that; loving me just 'cause they want to and not because our bloodline demands it. Cathy and her husband, David, have such a warm, welcoming environment in their home. You sense it as you cross the lawn and see the swing on the porch, blowing in the breeze; the rocking chairs waiting for a taker look so inviting. The shade across the front porch is impossible to resist as it calls for you to "come on, sit down and visit with us." The interior of her home is just as inviting. You feel enveloped by the warmth inside. And once you're friends with the Rawlins family, you ARE family. I feel like the auntie that pops in and out, like Aunt Clara coming down the fireplace on Bewitched. I never know what's going to be happening but I know I want in on it! Their family is as loud, loving and crazy as mine so nothing phases me. We might not have the same D*N*A but we share L*O*V*E and G*O*D.

Reminds me of the sign I have hanging in my home. My friend, Jasmine, has it in hers as well. It absolutely, perfectly describes our family philosophy: In this home...we do second chances; we do grace; we do real; we do mistakes; we do "I'm sorry;" we do LOUD really well; we do hugs; we do family; we do love. Add to that, "we do Jesus" and it's a complete picture. Wouldn't this world be at one with God, and in turn, each other if every household had those as a daily "to do" list?! We really strive for that kind of home. I have expressed to Bill that I want him to want to come home after work. I never want him to feel like "oh boy, I have to go home to her tonight" when he's headed home; a feeling of dread as he pulls in our driveway is a feeling I pray he never experiences. Same goes for my baby girl. Sure doesn't mean we don't have our less-than-stellar moments. Remember the "we do loud real well" part? We, especially me, DO do that! Just because divorce ain't an option doesn't homicide hasn't been pondered! But all of that training would be down the drain and I sure don't have the patience to start from scratch with a new model. (Love you honey, mean it.)

Feeling blessed to have a nice day. Nothing posh, nothing newsworthy...just simple pleasures like the love of a good friend. Much love to all of my "Cathys." You know who you are - I love ya!

Love to all y'all!

It's September

Loving, loving, loving this weather! Yesterday on the playground felt like one of those home games in Athens when finally you don't feel the "glow" running down your back, making a puddle in your pants. The munchkins noticed the difference, too, and were so excited about the wind blowing. They were turning their faces towards the wind, sticking their tongues out to "catch" it; like puppies hanging their heads out the car window, they were trying to physically capture the breeze. It seems as if all the rain we had last weekend broke the back of the oppressive humidity. There are some hot days here and there yet to come but nothing like summer days past. There is always a turning point, a day when the change is palpable and you know the season has changed. I've always found it interesting and, frankly, hilarious that one particular date is designated as the official start of summer, June 21st. Down here in God's country we start donning shorts and sandals in March and swimming in late April or early May. Swimming dates depend on if you're in a pool - that's April- or the lake - that's May unless you don't mind being numb from the waist down for 3 days after your dip! Of course trying to wash all that lovely, red, squishy Georgia mud off of your bathing suit, arms, legs, hair, etc. will heat you right up! Then riding with the car windows down because you smell like fish poop and dead leaves will get you good and dry before you hit Pollard's Corner.

When my baby sister was held hostage up north for 2 years...oops...when her husband was transferred to Pennsylvania, she experienced a winter siege that included summer arriving and departing on the same day - July 4th! There were some things Beth enjoyed about the small town in which they lived but weather was not one of them! She had never seen black ice but that's what happens to months of snow that's plowed up in huge drifts on the side of the road. Car exhaust and dirt of every description attaches itself to the drifts; not exactly the pictures on our Christmas cards! And her children were greatly disappointed to find out there aren't "snow days" in that part of the world unless the snow covers the windows. After the first big snowfall the kids were jumping up and down celebrating the anticipated day at home. That's when my sister said, "No snow day. Snow here means long johns under school clothes, snow boots, snow plow, school bus snow tires. Now get ready." Can't you picture those 3 sad little faces dragging themselves around waiting for the bus? Wondering, what happened to one snowflake in Georgia and we run to buy bread, milk and batteries for the long-winter's nap?! Beth said that one morning she was about to peep at the weather thermometer and was silently praying, "God, please let it be above zero." That was the moment she had an epiphany that screamed within her "I am begging for above-zero temperatures. My mama didn't raise me to live like this! Lawd, get me outta' here!" It proved to be their last winter in Pennsylvania. My brother-in-law ain't a dummy, honey.

Speaking of weather, our old pal at Channel 12, Bob Smith, has retired. Tonight at 11 was his last broadcast. For 32 years I've watched "Accu-Bob." That nickname has even become part of this area's colloquial expressions. It's not always used to reference remarks about weather; someone spouts a random fact and the sarcastic response is "Thanks for that report, Accu-Bob!" Bob Smith is a fine Christian man who served our community on and off the air. My mother is a Bob "groupie" and has been keeping one of those Bob Smith Severe Weather guides for years. How will we know when to scream like a girl and hide in the closet if Bob isn't around...and that's just for Bill!

Talked to Mama tonight. She got a good report at the surgeon's office today. She was a bit disappointed that Dr. Duggan didn't take out all the sutures and stitches but the most important thing is..she can go to the beauty shop tomorrow and get her style on! Gotta' get that hair did! My late, great daddy used to tease Mama and tell her that he wouldn't believe she had passed away until he loaded her into the car, rode her past the beauty shop and then if she didn't raise up he'd let Platt's Funeral home take her on downtown!

I was having a cop-a-thon tonight. Watched the real deals and the dramas...The First 48, Crime 360, Law & Order, The Closer. Love me some Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson of the LAPD! And those real female cops down in Broward County are smart and f-i-e-r-c-e ! The criminals don't always get their due but it's not from lack of trying on the part of these women -and their male counterparts. I love those gotcha' moments when the murderers, rapists, child molesters get that deer-in-the-headlights look because they realize they've been caught by these dedicated men and women. I'm married to a former cop, and have cousins retired from the F.B.I., and the Miami/Dade Sheriff's Dept., and an uncle retired from the U. S. Marshals Service. I better not get started - this is a blog for another time.

Hubby is home. Time to frisk him and slap the cuffs on!!

Love to all y'all!

Just thoughts

Yesterday was another good day in the K3 neighborhood. We had a little excitement in the form of a surprise fire drill. It was a surprise to everyone! The alarm was mistakenly set-off but we had to treat it as authentic. Our class took it in stride and responded very calmly. Because Ann & I were calm and orderly the children responded in kind. I've seen grown folks lose their minds at the sound of a fire or smoke alarm. Not sure that their screaming and hand-wringing actually enhanced the hysterical, losing-of-the-mind parts of the experience for them but it sure made for hilariously entertaining viewing on my part! Not mean, just honest.

Though I miss, and will always love, my former co-teachers, Ann is a joy! Thank you, Lord, for your plan to team us up this year. We already have that short-hand between us that usually takes a few weeks - sometimes months- to develop. Ann has a heart for Jesus and for children. She has so many good ideas and brings a new perspective to the classroom that is always welcome. It makes for a great dynamic to have a teacher new to Grace blended with one who has experience working at Grace. Though I strive to find new ideas, techniques, craft and recipe ideas, it helps keep things fresh in the classroom to throw someone new into the mix. Don't worry, Ann, I wouldn't really let anyone throw you - we gotta' stick together! It's us against 17 munchkins - yikes! But the worst that could happen in the case of a K3 rebellion is sticky kisses, handprints everywhere, a centers take-over and possibly a marker revolt. I can see it now...the girls would put on every article of girlie clothing and accessories in the dress-up box and probably demand that the boys put on the hero clothes (fireman, Batman, Army); the treasure box would be emptied into book bags; the markers would be seized and used until they ran dry; and if the overthrow happened before lunch, then desserts would be blatantly consumed before veggies!! And, film at 11.

Scout piled up in the bed with me last night and snuggled for a little while. "Bliss" is the word I use to describe the feeling I have when we sit up in my bed, chatting; sometimes about random, trivial stuff and sometimes about serious subjects and situations. I just love that "my Delaney" confides in me and values my opinion. That curly-haired girl that loved to play dress-up and called herself "Cinderella" for a month is older but still in there; dressing up for real now for church and for school functions; dressing up in a band uniform to take the field and play what she's so diligently practiced; sporting a nickname, Scout, that truly stuck because Cinderella was unavailable! I know that she is close to her friends, too, and that I'm not completely "in" that world but that is as it should be. With God's help, Bill & I have raised her in accordance with Biblical teachings and stand on Proverbs 22:8 "Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it." I trust her until she gives me a reason not to trust her. It gives me comfort to know there are other Christian adults in Scout's life that she loves, trusts and in whom she can confide should she ever need a shoulder and/or sound advice. Thank you, God, for answering my prayer for the gift of life. Like Hannah, I truly promised God that if He gave me a child I would honor that gift by raising the child to have a servant's heart and to love Him. God has honored Scout's love and service to Him by providing her with tools to serve Him- in the form of a dedicated youth pastor,Bryan Carter; a dynamic youth group; and many servant leaders. Scout, I am one lucky and loved mother and am proud to know you!

Today was another good day in the K3 neighborhood. It was cool all day today but wet so we couldn't enjoy the outdoors. Boo! Rachel came home with me this afternoon. She is like having a 3-year old, 3-foot tall Lucille Ball around. She is such a hoot! She says the funniest things, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. When we got home, I got out to unlock the front door and I told her to "sit tight" and then I'd get her out of her carseat. She patted the shoulder straps and said "It's not too tight, it's just right. It's okay, I'll be here when you get back." Once inside Rachel just proceeded to make herself right at home...shoes and socks off, propped up on the couch with her legs crossed and her hands up behind her head. I gave her a cup of chocolate milk which she eyed a bit suspiciously. She took a tiny sip, smacked her lips together, smiled and said, "That tastes okay I think. Just leave it there and I may have some later." Really?! Should I have let her sniff the plastic top to the milk jug? Should I open it and let it sit 5 minutes before serving so it can breathe? Was last week a good one for the chocolate milk harvest? My word.

Hubby is home. Love that man of mine...especially since he stopped on the way home for milk and bathroom tissue. What can I say? Doesn't take much to make this girl happy. Thank you, Lord, for simple pleasures. Time for a little marital bliss.

Love to all y'all!