My Reality

Week 25

2007-04-27T10:30:00.000-07:00

It's a good thing at least two of my kinfolk have Internet access, otherwise I couldn't post occasional blog updates, and more importantly, I couldn't keep up with what's going on over at http://dooce.com I hate to admit, but I have suffered withdrawal symptoms from not being able to get the scoop on all things Utah, but I feel better now. Thanks, Chris.

The past few unemployed weeks have been some of the best of my life. I have decided to keep a daily routine, which helps me be a more functional and normal human being. Did I say normal. Here is a sample schedule of my morning routine. I won't document the whole day, because I don't have time or megabytes to cover every scatter-brained moment.

6:00 a.m. - Hit snooze button...

6:09 a.m. - Hit snooze button again, only harder.

6:18 a.m. - Finally get up because it has been at least 30 minutes since I last peed.

6:20 a.m. - Stagger to fridge, pour large glass of milk and take prenatal vitamins. Start coffee pot and wait, impatiently. (Yes, I AM allowed 3 cups per day of caffeine. I don't drink sodas.)

6:30 a.m. - Get dressed in walking duds, while sipping first cup of steaming, delicious guilty indulgence with vanilla caramel creamer.

6:35 a.m. - Kiss B goodbye and look for first snack of the day. Cereal, banana, biscuit?

7:00 a.m. - Sit on couch, indulgently sipping coffee and eating. I will do this at least 15 more times today.

7:30 a.m. - Still trying to wake up, sitting on the couch, sipping second cup of coffee. And wondering why did those idiots at NBC didn't replace Katy with Ann Curry. I love Ann Curry. Who the hell is this Meredith chick? Also, what's up with Matt's hair? I smell Rogaine.

7:55 a.m. - Dragging bloated self from couch, heading to the door to meet my two walking buddies. For the next hour, I will waddle along for two whole miles while stopping for no less that three pee breaks. Thank God I live in the country.

9:15 a.m. - Sit on couch until further notice while enjoying the warm afterglow of brisk walking.

That's it. That is the extent of my daily obligations, for now at least. I keep telling myself that my self-indulgent freedom is ticking away, so I don't feel guilty for enjoying this time alone. I am having a wonderful time, visiting with family, planting flowers, and talking to my ever growing midsection. It's the calm before the storm, and I intend to soak it all in. Gotta paint a nursery soon.

Hope you all are well. Holler if you get a chance.

Adieu, and adieu.

2007-04-04T11:33:00.000-07:00

As some of you may already know, I'm taking early 'maternity leave' from my job. I had an opportunity to take a voluntary layoff because the company is downsizing, and I couldn't be happier. Right now I'm day dreaming of a vegetable garden, flower beds and Sylvi's nursery. Hopefully I will have the energy to accomplish these goals before I become too morbidly pregnant to waddle around and get things done. The weather is mercifully cool right now, so I can't wait to get outside and get busy. I think they call these pregnancy urges to clean and rearrange everything 'nesting'. Makes me sound like one of those broody old hens that momma had in the chicken yard so many years ago. No, I have not started clucking or scratching, or roosting in my back yard. Not yet, anyway.

I'm sure I will suffer withdrawals from my daily trips to the big city, but at least I won't face the daunting task of deciding what over-priced fast food to eat for lunch each day. I'll miss having daily morning meetings with the crew in the break room downstairs, and laughing my head off at their twisted collective senses of humor. One thing I will not miss is dealing with the innumerable glut of idiots who ring my phone off the hook on a daily basis. The sheer volume of rhetorical and pointless questions still swirl around in my head like a giant cyclone of feces. Mind numbing, I tell you.

Until next post, I bid you all a very fond farewell, for now anyway. I'm not really going anywhere...I'm just going home, sweet home.

It's a...

2007-03-27T08:42:00.000-07:00

Sweet, precious, darling little baby girl!

Little Miss Sylviann 'Sylvi' Estelle Browder is expected to arrive around August 9, 2007.

See?

For those of you who find it hard to 'read' these pictures, she is lying on her side with her little head to the left. You can distinctly see her left eye, and a little pointy chin. She wiggled throughout the whole exam, but cooperated when it mattered most. I have pictures of her 'parts', (or lack thereof) but thought it impertinent of me to post them here. I don't want to embarrass her, she's a lady! So we will accept the word of our professional ultrasound tech, Stephanie, who did a marvelous job and made the whole process informative and very exciting. Thank you, Stephanie. You are so wonderful.

She got a precious picture of Sylvi's tiny feet...

Very soon, I am going to slather those dainty little piggies with baby lotion, and then kiss them and kiss them and kiss them. I will try to resist the urge to dip them in ranch dressing and gobble them up. She may need them later when she is learning to walk.

To make things even more momentous, Aunt Tammy and Cousin Chris were there, too. They took pictures and video of the exam, and then giggled with excitement when Steph announced, "It's a girl!" Thank you both for being there, you are my precious 'sisters' and I rely on you both more than you know. And with whom else could I discuss nipple issues? Not many people, I tell you.

Me? I just kept saying, "Awwwwww! Hi, Sylvi! Wow. Oooooooh, wow."

I know, such profundity is underwhelming, isn't it? Finally, somebody had me at a loss for words. That someone is kicking me right now, and she is named Sylvi.

I will try to post the video here very soon so loved ones far and wide can see just how speechless I was, and how country-fied this here voice of mine really is. It is sure to be a crowd-pleaser.

The ultrasound countdown...

2007-03-19T12:50:00.000-07:00

In a little less than one week, we will FINALLY get to know the s-e-x of this here little one I am cooking up in my dutch oven. I say dutch oven because they get extremely hot and retain heat long after having been removed from a heat source. Kinda like me lately. My thermostat is broken, and now I'm in constant need of a cool drink of water and a fan. AND IT'S NOT EVEN JUNE YET. Lord have mercy on me, a hot, hot pregnant sinner, when the really intolerable summertime gets here.

Many of my friends and loved ones (and even strangers) want to know, "Are you having a boy or girl?" I cannot wait to be able to give a confident and knowledgeable answer to them the next time they ask, but according to many popular opinions, a 20 week ultrasound does in no way guarantee results. Say what?

They say:

"The baby must cooperate, in other words, they have to be willing to show us their nether regions. If they are turned the wrong way, we many not be able to see."

and...

"Some couples who are told a definite sex by an ultrasound technician are stunned when their doctor/midwife proudly announces,'Its' a _______!' The exact opposite of what they thought they were having."

So I guess that means I won't really be able to give a confident answer until the little booger actually emerges. However, if we do manage to see something akin to a teeny weeny, maybe I'll be convinced just a little bit. Either way, I'm hopeful, and anxious, and just a little bit neurotic about it. So far, it will be me, Tammy, Chris, and Brian packed into the little ultrasound room. I should charge admission and start a scholarship fund. Anyone else want to join us?

I still feel great, and enjoying those first little kicks and movements. It's kinda like the feeling you get about thirty minutes after leaving the Mexican restaurant, except not as odorous. At first, it was just a little thump here, a whoosh there. But now, it's full-fledged somersaults, and he/she is having no problem sticking the landing. This whole baby momma thing is very, very interesting.

I will be sure and post here when I get results (definite or not) from the ultrasound next week. And hopefully, post a pic of little Sylvi or Cole for all to see. Oooooooo, there's another message from my little thumper. Yes, I know it's time for our afternoon snack. Gotta go.

At least the kid is normal

2007-03-09T11:29:00.000-08:00

When you come from a family like mine, the word 'normal' isn't usually a commonly used descriptive in regard to our character. Clannish, hospitable, and 'just plain nuts' are used much more often. I suppose most outsiders look at our family with stunned disbelief, jaw dragging the ground and think, "Do these people really think they are special or something?" Well, yes, we do actually...that is, if you are thinking short-bus-variety-special. Yes, we are different, but none of us really know exactly why.

Ask anyone who has visited my parents' home during their lifetime, and they can tell you. Or find out from someone who once attended any of the myriad family functions at Cooter, particularly The Easter Egg Hunt, and they will explain. Not to mention all the food-laden extravaganzas at Nanie's house where everyone was expected to eat until bursting, family or not.

We just love everyone and make everyone feel welcome. Honestly, we do. We laugh all the time about everything, and yes, we make fun of each other face to face, and no feelings ever get hurt. Just ask Michelle about the Spread Tooth Song, and she won't cry or slap you silly...she'll sing it to you, with accompaniment if a piano is available. Everyone has nicknames, like Fig, Stretch Armstrong, Snick Snoid, Jazz, Face, Micheline, Wha-wha-wha? and my all-time favorite, Bowl-Sock-Sandal. Not all these nicknames were meant to be complimentary, but we didn't care! We were all raised with an extra-large sense of humor. Apparently, laughter IS the best medicine, even though the majority are inside jokes.

Speaking of medicine, I got the results for my quad-screen blood test today. The test is meant to screen for genetic abnormalities by measuring certain protein levels in my blood. Thankfully, the test was negative, giving a good indication that my little bambino is doing well. So even though momma may be 'teched' just a little bit, the kid should suffer no ill effects from my psychosis. I can only hope that my little one will enjoy a childhood like mine, with lots of laughter, singing, nicknames and Easter Egg Hunts. But there is NO WAY that he/she will be allowed to jump out the top of Papaw's barn, with or without the help of an umbrella or homemade parachute. Batman has retired, and Mary Poppins is over-rated.

The following is a list of things that only the family would understand. If I leave anything out, please comment and tell me what I forgot. Just needed to do a little reminiscing today.

- Blind man's bluff in the hall

- Playing 'library'...what was your pretend name?

- T holding the football for Snick to 'practice punt'

- The Playroom, nuff said.

- Running to Ma and Pa's house for a cold biscuit

- Roller Skate Obstacle Course!!! With M Factor and Cinderella on the turntable...LOL

- Me and Mel getting our Barbies mixed up, and fighting about it

- Jumping off the ladder onto the donut swing, what a rush!

- "I was walkin', down a one-way street...BAM! Nanie, there's just something about this house."

- Playing 'King Cobra' and 'D. Faye' on the trampoline

- Cat's Eye, Life, and Hungry Hippos

- "Aaaaaannnniieee!!! OOoooooovvveeeerrrr....Pigtails!"

- The Go-Cart. No, I couldn't ride it because I was too fat.

- The Go-Cart. Attacked Michelle and nearly choked her to death with her own scarf.

- "Polly, there's a snake on my arm."

- Playing 'house' in the pigpen. Yes, the pigpen.

- Janet and me riding one-eyed Lady, the pony.

- Crawfishing with Bob in the front ditch.

- "Momma, Mitchell called me hoss!"

- Hope-toe.

- Mitch drying his hair out the window of the 442, while I steered one-handed.

I love y'all. Thanks for all the funny, happy memories.

Janet and me, circa 1975.

Lowdown on The Ill Nah-nah.

2007-02-26T11:16:00.000-08:00

I was really hoping to break a world record during my pregnancy by being the second woman EVER to survive nine whole months of hormonal surges by never throwing up even once. My mom still holds the all-time title...she went through it four times and never felt better in her life. Sorry, mom. I caved under extreme viral pressure.

I blew (no pun) my chances this past Friday. No, it was not morning sickness. It was more like early-afternoon-stomach-flu-relief-by-spewing sickness. Which, by the way, was precluded by 386 trips to the pot starting at 3 a.m. the previous morning. I know all this sharing is making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Just make dang sure that feeling isn't mistaken for the bubble guts, because that will warrant a trip to the Dollar Store for more Angel Soft double rolls.

I know, I know....EVERYONE but everyone has already had the stomach flu this year. So what's the problem? I thought I would be totally immune because I use gallons of hand sanitizer and Lysol spray on a daily basis. Yet, somehow, the microscopic assassins made it through my defenses and laid waste to my digestive tract. How, you are wondering? Check this out...

http://biology.about.com/library/weekly/aa022400a.htm

and this...

http://biology.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?site=http://news.uns.purdue.edu/UNS/html4ever/000211.Almanza.sanitizers.html

Oh shock and horror! You mean this stuff could actually increase my chances of becoming sick???? It is terrorist propaganda, I say!

I'm still gonna use the stuff though. One, because it makes me feel better; two, because it smells good, and; three, I don't think Pinesol shooters and a Haz-Mat suit would be a good option for me at this point.

1st Annual Cousin's Retreat

2007-02-20T13:19:00.000-08:00

It finally happened. No, we did not find Osama Bin Laden. We held the first EVER Rice girl-cousin's retreat!

And, yes. We had more fun and ate more cheese than it is legal to admit. Thanks to Steph's prodding us all with a hot poker, we finally succumbed to the pressure and decided it was worth listening to all the whining that would follow when we broke away from our male counterparts (and kids) for more than five whole minutes. We were very sad that Michelle, Misty and Bridget couldn't join us, but we will just be sure that EVERYONE receives an invite next time, m'kay? Yes, Misty, I'm talking to you girl. Attendees included left to right: Stephanie, me, Melanie, Janet, Tammy and Chris.

I hosted the first ever event at Chillville, which was perfect considering I have no home phone, and the cell signal is dodgy at best. This meant that if you wanted to talk to anyone, you would have to stand at the back door and bob your head around like a chicken, or go outside on the back porch and freeze to death. Neither was a good option, so we just checked messages from time to time. It was the next best thing to being dropped off on a desert island, but with better food.

Being with child, and being clueless, I used this time to glean all the knowledge I could from the veteran mothers in my midst. I got tons of great information, including home video footage of an actual birth, and lots of examples of the hell your children will put you through once they reach the age that they can finally walk. I know birth and motherhood aren't all bad, but just don't ever let your kids wear your boots while dancing around in their underwear. It will make you pee in your pants, people.

I had no idea that so many women with so much gear could fit into such a confined space. But we did, and no one got stepped on or elbowed, a least not on purpose. We actually attempted to have a Liverpool Rummy tournament, but we only lasted two hands. We couldn't stop talking and eating long enough to play...are you surprised?

From left to right, me, Steph, Face and Tammy. Of course, we had to switch out camera operators and take another shot so everyone could represent...

Left to right, beached whale, sleepy Steph, Janet and Chris. Where is Melanie, you ask? She's trying to hook up a VHS player to a DVD recorder so she can convert our old family movies. After she almost pulled out all of he hair, I offered to try and help her...

No, that swath of green isn't Ireland, it's my right butt cheek. Alas, I wasn't much help and she eventually figured out. She also took some great family photos of Chris, Aaron and Brynn, plus some of me and my pregnant belly. I will post these later. Mel is a fabulous photographer. Check out her work here: http://leaveallworries.blogspot.com/ She is also a fabulous dancer and karaoke singer, especially when she has had too much vodka and cranberry juice. Rope the calf, Mel...rope the calf.

Speaking of roping the calf, here's the original roper herself with her precious little one, AnnaClaire. Janet, don't you dare teach that baby that dance. Nanie would flip a grid...

Thank you, ladies for your love, advice and fantastic dip recipes. And thanks to Chris for sharing these photos, hope you don't mind that I used them. The time just went by too, too fast, didn't it? And for the love of all things holy, please let's not forget to invite Mrs. Jim Meziere next time. Otherwise, there will be no divinity next Christmas.

A ray of hope

2007-02-16T07:31:00.000-08:00

I want to thank all of you for your support over these past few tumultuous weeks. Your advice and support means more to me than you could imagine.

As many of you have experienced yourself, disappointment and anger can take a lot of energy to sustain, and I have grown tired of it. I received two heartfelt letters from my ex, and agreed to talk to him for the first time in almost a month and a half.

Let it suffice to say that God does hear and answer prayer. And in the midst of some of the most horrible times, wonderful, life-changing things can and do happen when you least expect them to. I want to assure you all that I am not being foolish, but am following the prompting of my heart, and talking to him was the best thing I could have ever done. I found out that not all the things that I heard were true, and I know in my heart that he has nothing left to hide.

Please pray for us as we continue to talk and try to resolve the issues that are set before us. It will not be easy, and it's going to take a lot of time. But with God's help, we can make a new start and have a chance to be the family that we've always wanted to be.

I love y'all.

A-shopping we did go

2007-02-13T09:38:00.000-08:00

This past weekend, I had my first ever baby shopping adventure. I say shopping, but a more accurate description would be baby looking...I registered at my first retail outlet and got to pick from ka-jillions of products that I didn't even know existed.

I have never beheld so many gadgets, thingies, what's-its and gizmos in my life. And this was all at just one location! Talk about an overwhelming influx of information, it was baby gadget sensory overload. Who knew that so many props were required for the rearing of one little bitty human being? How in the hell did we learn anything much less survive baby-hood before all these necessities came to be?

When I was a kid, 'accessories' included a stack of cloth diapers with pins (I still have my pins), rubber pants, and hand-me-downs from your older brothers and sisters. 'Toys' included mom's pots and pans, a paste-board box aka. playhouse with a hole cut in it for a 'door', and a set of wooden blocks painted bright colors hand-made by my grandfather. My, my, how times have changed.

Now, one must have binky's, onesies, monitors, sleeping wedges, bumpers, wipies, wipie warmers, mobiles, electric boob pumps, walkers, strollers, bouncers, exer-saucers, play mats, bath stations, travel systems, play yards, and this:

It's a Baby Einstein play station, and it's, ummm, awfully cute. Excuse me, but is it really necessary for a newborn to learn the theory of relativity? If any of my siblings or myself had been given this as a child, we would have shredded it within one day. I suppose we were a bit more rugged back then. Don't get too judgemental on me now. And, no. I did NOT add this to my registry.

However, I did find some very attractive and very practical things that I might actually use for more than five whole minutes after the baby is born.Things like this:

And I especially loved this because it looks sturdy enough for me to waddle behind with the bambino in tow, and get my own behind back into shape:

Aunt Na and I are both under the assumed delusion that I will give birth to a little boy. No, we do not have a clue why, and no, we have done no voodoo-witchcraft-old-wives-tales experiments....yet. Although I may have to break out the pencil, needle and thread and do 'the test'. Have any of you ever heard of 'the test'? It's been pretty accurate on the folks I've seen use it.

If you want to see more, look me up by name at www.target.com

What You Are

2007-02-07T12:11:00.000-08:00

And when you wanted me
I came to you
And when you wanted someone else
I withdrew
And when you asked for light
I set myself on fire
And if I go far away I know
You'll find another slave

Cause now I'm free from what you want
Now I'm free from what you need
Now I'm free from what you are

And when you wanted blood
I cut my veins
And when you wanted love
I bled myself again
Now that I've had my fill of you
I'll give you up forever
And here I go far away
I know you'll find another slave

Cause now I'm free from what you want
Now I'm free from what you need
Now I'm free from what you are

Then a vision came to me
When you came along
I gave you everything
But then you wanted more

Cause now I'm free from what you want

Now I'm free from what you need

Now I'm free from what you are

--as performed by Chris Cornell and Audioslave

The name game

2007-01-30T14:47:00.000-08:00

So many people have asked me what names I have picked out for my soon-to-be-little one. As it will still be several weeks until I find out the sex of the baby, I have decided to pick a girl and a boy name now and not change it throughout the remainder of the pregnancy. This seems like a good plan, that is, unless I find out I'm giving birth to a litter of chihuahuas.

However, since part of my pregnancy 'side effects' include indecisiveness, I don't know if I'll be able to stick to my plan. But I suppose I must if I want any monogrammed or personalized gifts to be presentable. I seriously doubt my child would appreciate a diaper bag emblazoned with 'Billy Jack' or "Flo". And, no. I am not naming any child of mine that.

First of all, I have decided to choose names in keeping with my family heritage. I consider it honorable to name children after family, living or deceased. It implies that not only do you love and honor those family members, but also that you value your heritage and are proud to associate your child with your family. Sadly, many people I know would just as soon see their family members drop dead, rather than try have a meaningful relationship with them. That must be a real drag at Christmas and birthday time, the lack of presents must surely suck.

Secondly, I totally and completely abhor names that are contrived, engineered or otherwise made up...just doesn't make sense to me. There are plenty of good ole' names out there that will do just fine without making your child suffer scorn for his/her entire life.
Just imagine this scenario: Roll call, your child's first day of kindergarten.

Teacher: "Jack Adams."
JA: "Here."
Teacher: "Rachel Allison"
RA: "Here."
Teacher: Pause. "Bracken.........Burns?"
BB: Silence
Teacher: "BRACKEN BURNS????"
BB: *in a tiny, humiliated, almost inaudible voice* "Present."

Sounds like a piece of heavy machinery used in construction, doesn't it? I realize that you may or may not like my choices, but they are tried and true names that belonged to actual people. So here goes.

"Sylviann Estelle Burt"

If I have a girl, the first name will be after my late mother, Sylvia Ann Rice Burt. It will give me so much joy to hear that name on a daily basis, and there is no other name on earth that would give my child more honor. I decided to combine her first and middle name, and call her 'Sylvi' for short. The middle name is from my great-paternal-grandmother, Estelle McGeehee Burt. My grandfather Neal told me I favored his mother's looks more than any of her grandchildren, so I think it's a fitting middle name. This woman was tough...she gave birth to TEN children, one of which was Fred Burt. Enough said. She was short, stacked, sassy, and very robust. Sound familiar? One other thing she did was dip Garrett snuff. I don't care for snuff myself, but I remember visiting her, and seeing that Folger's coffee can sitting on the table. She would hook her finger in the edge of the can, lift it to her chin and 'pffftttoo'. I really think the name itself will give added zing when I'm trying to get my child's attention, too - "Sylviann ESTELLE!!! DO YOU HEAR ME????"

"Coleman Haddox Burt"

I could not choose a boy's name without including part of my father's given name, Robert Coleman Burt, Sr. I have always loved the name 'Cole', so that will be his name for short. I found out after having chosen that name, that it had quite a history. According to my father, we had a distant cousin many years ago named Coleman Haddox who hailed from down in Texas, and he was a man who stood for justice. Apparently, there was an evil warden who shot the young son of a poor widow just because he could. Coleman heard about it, went and found the warden, and shot him dead to avenge the little boy's death. Sound's like good people to me. The name Haddox was the surname of my great-paternal-grandfather Henry Pierce Haddox, whom my father adored. Sadly, he died when my father was just six years old.

And so, the mystery is revealed. This youngun will be Cole or Sylvi. Now I have just a few more weeks to find out just which one it will be. This is more exiting that watching The Price is Right.

Not So Looney

2007-01-25T09:45:00.000-08:00

This Saturday, my great-niece will celebrate her first birthday. As with most kid's birthday parties these days, it will have a theme based on popular children's characters. Little B's will feature these critters:

They are cute, colorful, cheerful, and they like to sing and dance. Kinda reminds you of a Broadway revue of Sesame Street. I'm sure most parents would agree that the characters are wholesome and educational for their small children to watch. But it seems like all these cartoons eventually just meld into one big kaleidoscope of fluffy, puffy Technicolor animal blobs (i.e. Barney, Doodle bops, Blue's Clues and the like). I love you, you love me, blah-blah-blah. What about when everyone doesn't love everyone?

I looooong for the days when cartoon characters had just that...character. Gone are the days when kids could actually witness real life lessons via their favorite Saturday morning characters, because now the powers that be have deemed these treasures of old as 'too violent'. Ahem, excuse me? Those cartoons weren't violent, they were real, and taught me many, many valuable lessons.

For instance, I learned what really happened when one falls off a cliff. Smack, you hit bottom, and probably break into a thousand pieces just before a large boulder falls on your head. Lesson: Don't fall off a cliff. Simple, isn't it? Nothing on this earth compares to my beloved Looney Tunes. Yes, they got blown up, run over by trains, shot into outer space, and otherwise bludgeoned. But they were intelligent, funny, witty, educational and extremely entertaining. And they more often than not taught us what NOT to do. And one never worried about political correctness when Bugs Bunny was pulling a fast one on Elmer Fudd. Elmer had that one coming.

No, in the real world, cats and dogs don't always get along...but at the end of the cartoon, they still appreciate each other's differences.

Sweet dreams are made of these...

2007-01-22T08:18:00.000-08:00

When I first saw this bedding, I knew it would be perfect for my little one. I must have looked at hundreds of patterns, colors and themes...but when i saw this, I thought it would be great for a girl or boy. The name of the bedding is rather appropriate for me, too...Latte. That's right...the bedding is named after coffee. Delicious, don't you think?

I love the little mobile, and the earth tones are down-to-earth yet vibrant. In my typical shabby-chic fashion, I will paint the artwork myself and maybe add personal touches, too. I'm hoping this look will carry over for the toddler years and maybe beyond. By adding new things as the baby gets older, I should be able to transform the look of the room without changing the main elements. The only aspect of this look that will be different will be the bed itself. I prefer a more antique furniture style, this is a bit too modern for me. At first, I thought I wanted white furniture, but now I'm leaning toward darker wood. It will match Maw Rice's antique vanity, and Mamaw Myrtle's rocking chair.

So, my main colors will be butter yellow(antique white), chocolate brown, rust/orange and light blue (look closely and you will see a bit of blue in the leaf patterns). I can add more blue if I'm having a little boy.

Aunt T is already working on an antique white blanket with earth-tone accents, it's absolutely gorgeous so far. Plus, Aunt Na Na is knitting a blanket, too...I'm not sure about the color on that one, but I'll love it regardless. Many thanks to Chris and Janet for the 'mommy' clothes you donated to me, and to Aunt Jan for my goodie bag and baby toy. I love you all very, very much.

As I get the nursery ready, I'll take pictures of my progress and post them here. Every day, my happiness grows along with my little precious one.

Say what? The Pilot Episode

2007-01-17T12:30:00.000-08:00

All you ladies out there who are mommies already will surely enjoy this.

The comments and advice have begun, already. And so far, they have been astonishing. I will share a few with you from time to time throughout my pregnancy, starting with these.

Get a load of this.

Me: "Hi there, ______. It's so good to see you...I'm expecting my first child this summer, and I'm thrilled!"

Response 1: "Ohhhhh! when did you get married?"

Response 2: "How old are you again, 45?"

Response 3: "Your life is officially over, so get used to it."

Response 4: "You'll be a great mother, raising kids is just like raising puppies."

Response 5: "How are your nipples?"

Response 6: "You had better hope you don't have a tilted uterus."

Response 7: "Wow. I thought you didn't want kids."

Response 8: "Wow. I thought you were too old to have kids."

Response 9: "You don't look pregnant."

(And now for my all-time favorite response so far, this one spoken by blood-kin in such hushed tones that it may never reach the tender ears of Jesus Himself)

Response 5: "Uh-huh...who's the father?"

The Blue Period.

2007-01-12T11:16:00.000-08:00

Recently, I looked back at some of my first entries on this website. And to my chagrin, most of the stuff I wrote was just so....well, serious. I suppose I was going through some sort of reflective/depressed period in which writing down my thoughts for all the world to see would somehow help me muddle through whatever crisis I was enduring at that time. So, I guess all my shameless spewing must have served some purpose, didn't it? Let's call it self-therapy...and please don't think I'm discounting all the wonderful words of support from friends. You helped me more than you know.

No doubt, I went through some rough stuff, i.e. the loss of my mother, several failed relationhips, blah-blah-blah. But, gahhh! I was such a wallower. Maybe I'm being too critical of myself, but I'm just. so. bored. with negativity. It's embarrassing to realize I was so weak minded for such a long time. Thankfully, that time in my life is o-vah. One thing I've learned is that I'm responsible for my happiness, and nobody else.

All my innocence is officially gone, the illusion is shattered, the pie-in-the-sky has fallen, and is cascading down over me like a sticky, sweet shroud.

So now, I will try my dead level best to look up, move forward, chin up, and be happy. After all, I have so much to be happy about. So I will bid farewell to my blue days, and look forward to sunny days coated in yellow, orange and red...and leave the depressing stuff to someone else. I have better things to do, like get a nursery ready for my precious little somebody. Bye-bye, blue.

Yes sir, that's my baby

2007-01-08T06:32:00.000-08:00

My first doctor visit was last week, and I now have the first photo for my baby's book.

But, unfortunately, I cannot show it to you as this POS computer refuses to upload it to blogland. *grumbling under my breath* So please be patient, family and friends. I will try to solve the problem soon. Let it suffice to say that yes, it was the most gorgeous baby ever, and I could actually see him/her waving to the camera. Like momma, like baby.

The ultrasound was fascinating enough, but the very best part of the whole visit happened when my doc used a small, walkman-like device in the office. She pressed it to my tummy, and I heard the most beautiful sound I've heard so far in my life...whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...that precious little heartbeat! That sound came from inside ME. I'm still speechless when I think about it. I could see the heartbeat on the ultrasound, but there was nothing like hearing it for the first time ever. Amazing.

Of course, they took a stunningly large amount of blood from me for initial tests. I just hope the results don't come back 'patient has irreversible airhead syndrome' and 'please refer for psychiatric evaluation'. I swear, my hormones have organized a hostile takeover of my body and all its parts, and I don't like it. I'll just have to remember that it's okay to cry at the drop of a hat, especially while flipping through radio stations on the way to work and accidentally pausing on a ripping rendition of Barry Manilow's 'Mandy'. Wow. I really am pathetic.

Still feeling great, except for the sleep lost making 1,534 trips to the bathroom each night. Hopefully, this will slow down soon...along with all the bizarre dreams I'm having. Example: I was looking toward my dad's house and noticed a helicopter hovering over the yard. There were men repelling to the ground, and they were armed. So I crawl around the edge of the woods, waylay one of the guys, and take his Kalashnikov. I then proceed to kill all the Iraqis in my dad's yard and shoot down the helicopter. I guess my clip was full. After all, I can't have a bunch of Iraqis trying to take over my dad's house, where would we go at Christmas?

Weird dreams aside, I'm not a violent person. Apparently, pregnancy hormones do a lot more than just grow a baby. They obviously make you adept with AK-47's.

A World of Firsts

2007-01-03T12:22:00.001-08:00

First doctor visit is tomorrow! (Updates will be forthwith following tomorrow's visit.)

Nervous, excited, hopeful...the only thing I'm NOT feeling is nausea. Hooray! The majority of women I've talked to say that had at least some sickness. But, so far for me? Nada.

And talk about becoming a complete airhead overnight. Sheesh, I embarrass myself with my cluelessness. Does this last through the entire nine months and beyond? I've heard people say they lost their minds after having kids, but in no way did I take that literally.

Please...someone tell me that I won't speak in broken, bubblegum popping sentences a la Britney Spears after the baby comes. Please, dear God, no.

I must say, the whole fam damily seems to be as ecstatic as I am. But I think they are feigning excitement in lieu of admitting the real truth...they just cannot wait for the 'baby' of the family to pay for her raising. That's right, people, I'm on to you. You are all sitting back, twiddling your collective thumbs, praying that I will deliver a hellion worthy of the title, Meanest Little Imp That Ever Lived. Well, I've got news...even if I do give birth to an imp, it will be the sweetest, cutest, most perfectly huggable imp, ever.

I'll try not to become totally engrossed in the whole baby process, blogwise. The new still hasn't worn off this thing, so be patient. I will temper my posts with something that is really interesting from time to time.

Like what fiber laxatives work best without giving you gas that repeats like a Howitzer.

Happy New Everything

2006-12-29T12:49:00.000-08:00

"The older you get, the more quickly time passes."

Why is this so true? This past year was nothing more than a blur. Now another year is looming, and I'm still not really sure how I muddled through the last one.

Did I really make that many changes in my life for the better, or did I get caught up in the day-to-day grind like so many years past? Was I thankful for the moments with family and friends, or did I squander the time by letting negative influences take away my joy?

One thing is certain for the coming year....change.

And, boy oh boy, do I have some changes coming my way. BIG changes that I never thought would happen...but oh-so-happy changes that have me so giddy I cannot stop grinning.

I'm going to be a mother.

I'M GOING TO BE A MOTHER!!!

I keep telling myself this over and over, and still it doesn't seem real. But it is, and I am, and it's wonderful. The part of me deep down inside that wanted so much to know the feeling of loving a child of my own had been locked up for such a long, long time. But it was set free in an instant the day i found out why I had been feeling so weird, so different, so sleepy.

So with this new blessing, I will choose happiness for the coming year. How could I not? It is an humbling and truly wondrous gift that I have been given, and I will be careful to savor every moment from now on...I will welcome the changes, and be thankful for them.

Is anybody out there?

2006-12-19T12:46:00.000-08:00

Since living and working in the country means little or NO internet access, I have been shamefully delinquent with my dear ole' blog. Ahem...I humbly apologize to all interested parties and promise to do much, much better.

I am now, again, employed in town. I must admit that there are certain aspects of city dwelling that I have missed such as:
1. Fast food
2. Fast internet
3. Fast friends
Please let me clarify the third item on my list; by 'fast' I do not, by any means, intend to imply that my friends are harlots. I simply mean that they are important to me, and having available internet access means I can keep in touch with them more closely. I have missed that.

In future posts, I will be sharing some thoughts, and asking for your input, as my life has come to a new turning point. (Boy, has it ever.)

So please, stay around. I promise it will be worth the wait.

Inspired by Dr. Seuss

2006-03-24T07:25:00.000-08:00

I do not like reality
speaking of the hype, you see.
I do not watch those kinds of shows,
I do not like them, now you know.

I do not watch on MTV,
I do not watch on NBC...
No singing idols, or people Lost,
I will not watch at any cost.

I do not watch Survivor man,
I will not watch although I can.
I'm not impressed, not entertained
Those stupid shows just numb my brain.

I do not care who sings the best,
I don't care which ones pass the test.
If this is their reality,
Then I want them to let me be.

Eat your eyeballs, slurp your worms,
Ingest those disgusting germs.
Be a fool for all to see,
Bow and worship your TV.

So sell your false reality,
That type of stuff is just not me.
I do not watch those kinds of shows,
They are beneath me, now you know.

Frozen Toes, Optional

2006-03-23T09:44:00.002-08:00

As per usual, the transformation from winter to spring has be some what halting and just down-right annoying here in LA. (lower Arkansas) This makes planning one's clothing for the workweek a complete and total waste of time. 80 degrees in January, now 40 degrees the end of March. What up?

The daffodils and narcissus have already bloomed and died, and now the jasmine is in full bloom which normally is the signal that spring has sprung. I think, however, that spring turned around and crawled back into bed. I can appreciate the luxury of sleeping in from time to time, but dag! I'm ready to go fishing, and wear strappy sandals...instead, I'm sitting inside an office, heater kicking, toes frozen in spite of my boots. Does anyone know what the groundhog muttered when he emerged?

I need to buy a sunbed.

Back to My Roots...Literally

2006-03-21T08:01:00.000-08:00

I have had a really varied list of occupations over the years...accounts receivable clerk (my first job), food service, advertising designer, retail store management, radio/D.J....But the most unusual job I've ever had was last week. Many of you know that my significant other is a farmer, and last Thursday, he put me on a tractor. The country girl has really gone country now....and you know what? I loooooved it.

I have been trying to get a job since before Thanksgiving last year, gahhhhh. Nothing ever panned out, and I just couldn't figure out whyl. I just kept praying, "Lord, you know what is best for me, so if I don't get this job, I know it wasn't right for me." So, to my great delight, Boo took me to work with him, and promptly sat me atop a Case MX240. Now, if you have never ridden on one of these big ole' toys, you just don't know what you are missing. It's like having Big Foot and your favorite childhood Tonka toy all rolled up into one.

I spent many, many hours with Boo last year, riding with him in his tractor. He explained the whole process to me, including discing, spraying, planting and harvesting. I was totally fascinated by it all, and soaked up all the info he passed on to me. This is no haphazard operation...when you farm thousands of acres, you have to be consistent and do things a certain way, or you will lose money by burning too much diesel or time. So for him to put me one a tractor? Well, I considered it an honor. I was especially nervous because his dad would be there, too...and the thought of tearing up a piece of equipment? Let's just not speak of that.

Our job was to break the fields for the first and second time with a disc...then harrow or 'scratch' the field to smooth it and break up the dirt clods. So that's what we did. On Friday, just the two of us covered about 250 acres, and I have never enjoyed a job more. Being outside in the sun, rolling over acres and acres of land that I have grown up watching my whole life was a thrill. It was absolutely beautiful...the winter wheat was glorious green, waving in the slight breeze while birds and butterflies drifted along, soaking up the early spring warmth. I don't think I have ever breathed more deeply the fresh air, scented with the fragrance of the blooming jasmine in abundance throughout the piney woods.

I come from a family of gardeners (on a smaller scale), so it's no wonder I felt like I had done this forever. The smell of the freshly broken earth, the grit of the discs as they slice through the dirt, the constant groaning of the tractor...it was as though I had plugged into some conduit of familiarity that I didn't know existed, something from deep within my genes rang true. In my mind, I could see both my grandfathers on their respective tractors, breaking ground in very early spring, tending the ground with care so that they could produce abundance for their family during the coming season. I recall hearing my father talk about my great-grandfather Pa Rice plowing with his mule, Ole Jim, toiling manually in the hot summer sun. I remember how my mother loved to grow things...flowers, tomatoes, greens and onions. It's in my blood, and I cannot deny it...don't want to, in fact.

I have wondered about big farming my whole life, but now I know. It's hard, messy, inconvenient, dangerous and sometimes thankless work. It isn't a job, it is your LIFE. I have come to have an immense amount of respect and admiration for America's farmers. But sadly, many farmers across our state and this nation are having to give up their livihood, sometimes passed down from generations, because this country and it's government have let fuel and fertilizer prices grow to astronomical levels. More farmers were forced out of business this past year than since the great depression. This slow genocide of the farming industry has forced hundreds of families to give up the only way of life they have ever known...they are being forced to sell the lives they have worked so hard to make for pennies on the dollar. The very backbone of our country is slowly being forced out of existance, and we will all pay the price one day.

So the next time you are driving a country road and see a farmer working his fingers to the bone, give him a wave and a smile. He can use the encouragement...and he deserves the acknowledgement. My hats off to all the producers across these great United States.

I'm Sprung

2006-03-20T07:54:00.000-08:00

Hello, strangers...

Today is the first day of spring, but it seems more like the-first-day-of-the-rain-that-has-no-sign-of-ending. The heat has been turned on out of necessity, and it feels good people.

In town this week watching my friend's print shop while she and fam are on spring break. It was so weird to actually get up and get ready for work this morning. What a bunch of aggravation, sheesh. Since November 17, 2005, I had forgotten the immense amount of prep work and spackling necessary to make myself presentable in public. I recently got all the dead frizzies cut off my hair, so I don't have to schedule a three round match with it just to get it to lie down, thus saving time. Thankfully, my friend runs a casual type business atmosphere, so jeans are allowed...hurrah!

I wouldn't say I have become lazy since quitting my job, but my needing to be in-the-know and my trying to be 3 places simultaneously no longer seems very important. I was so busy, at one time, that I had seriously considered offering my body to science to be the first ever human clone experiment. I had also considered looking more closely into time travel, but that cost too much. So I just quit my job instead. The demands of the job had been outweighing the benefits for quite some time, and I knew that there was no hope for improvement unless the job fairies finally walked off the picket line and decided to give me some well-deserved assistance. Again, no dice. Remember...if you believe in fairies, they believe in you.

So...I thought to gain perspective on my status, I have decided to make a list of things that I have been able to do since having become unemployed. Note: items marked with an asterisk have never before been done by me.

THINGS I HAVE DONE SINCE BECOMING UNEMPLOYED

1. Sleep like the dead...I mean sound sleep, y'all. *
2. Look for another job, fervently, to no avail.
3. Stop feeling guilty for having quit my job. *
4. Drink coffee with my dad...every day if I want.
5. Ride my motorcycle in the middle of the day.
6. Realize I don't need a tv or a phone, telemarketers be damned.*
7. Focus on my dreams in a real way...not just daydream.*
8. Have the ability to do spur-of-the-moment things with my family and friends.*
9. Shop at my favorite stores anytime...Kroger and the Dollar Store, oh yeah.
10. Go pond hopping with my sister.

I have realized that my contentment doesn't lie in toiling for someone else's dreams. These simple things listed above are prime examples of what really does make me smile. I smile alot more now, too. I saw a couple of friends the other day, and they both said I looked more relaxed than they had ever seen me. Really? It's true...I am. And no antidepressants were needed, this time. Princess Cymbalta, move over.

Still Alive...Barely

2006-02-01T12:51:00.000-08:00

Hi...

I'm sure some of you have been wondering where I've been.

To make a long story short, I quit my job before Thanksgiving...now I'm looking for a job. I was exhausted and I had to get a break.

Thanks to everyone who has inquired about how I'm doing...I appreciate your kind comments.

If any of you know of job openings in the area, holla back here.

I have very limited access to the internet now, so I may not answer emails right away.

Peace all.

Mundane Monday

2005-11-14T10:25:00.000-08:00

Mundane? Yes. Unbusy? No.

Work continues to be very hectic, but for now I get a break since football season is over. We start basketball in the next two weeks, so I have to enjoy my brief reprieve.

This is my absolute favorite time of year, and my favorite month, so I was thrilled to sit on the deer stand for a few hours yesterday. Didn't see a thing, but the solitude, sights and smells of nature made me feel refreshed and more in touch with the things I love...the outdoors, beautiful scenery, and simple pleasures.

Finally got B's centerpiece done for her table. She bought an antique aluminum basket during the girls' weekend, and I made her a fall arrangement with flowers we purchased at Everything's a Dollar. It looks like a million, if I do say so myself. I love making pretty things on a budget, it...just...feels...so....satisfyingly....frugal. I guess I'm just a redneck Martha Stewart.

I fell 'off the wagon' and gorged myself on homemade oatmeal cookies last night. I swear, if I ate one I ate 15. I haven't had a sweet-binge in a long, long time. Plus, I almost drank a half gallon of milk along with it. So, I forgive myself here and now. Note to self: must drink gallons of water this week.

Still schemin' and dreamin'...working on a few things that I've always wanted to do. Who knows what lies in my future? So tell me...have you ever, or are your currently pursuing YOUR dream? Holla.

The Followup Report

2005-11-08T13:28:00.000-08:00

What can I say?

Food, fun and best of all, friends.

Operation Girls' Night 2 went off as planned, except the Little Debbies went untouched. That's right...for some reason, we just didn't dive into the junk food. I suppose it could be that it's physically impossible to partake of a banana twin and talk without using the Heimlich maneuver. So, we just talked. With the exception of gallons of coffee, and my bag of beef jerky, no food was consumed.

However, we were consumed with all the antique malls in and around said undisclosed location. Here's a hint: If you are broke, and want to go shopping anyway? Go antiquing. Fun. Cheap. Nuff said.

Although we didn't eat a case of junk food, we did partake of some very good meals. Let me tell you about a little ole place called AP's Seafood. If you are ever in the area of Jacksonville, AR, and you want to get the best plate of seafood EVER, go there. Just do it. The last time I ate there was 15+ years ago, and it was kickin' good then. Plus, I snarfed down a huge platter of the biggest and tastiest crablegs I have ever experienced. All I can say is....shazam. I'm sure I gained 10 pounds over the weekend.

To my girls? Thanks, thanks, thanks for one of the funnest weekends ever. And especially thanks for all my pre-birthday gifts. You really do know how to make a girl feel spe-shul.

Final note: The Liverpool Rummy tie breaker will belong to none other than moi, myself, yo, I, me. Just letting y'all know ahead of time so it won't hurt your feelings too badly.

I LOVE YOU TWO CRAZY GALS!

Operation Girls' Night 2

2005-11-03T07:19:00.000-08:00

Many of you may be well aware of the First Girls' Night extravaganza that was held earlier this year with me and two of my dear friends. Well it's on again. but this time, there will be no Sex and the City marathon. It will be more of a marathon devoted to two things....

Sleep....and....

Little Debbie Snack Cakes.

It will be held at an undisclosed location somewhere in the central part of the state.

Due to covert ops involving sugary snacks and a coffee pot, the location must be kept secret to protect the innocent. During the operation, mass quantities of girl talk will be exchanged, as well as advice about which method is best for removing calluses from your big toe. Nail polish will be shared, as well as the latest cosmetic breakthroughs which will absolutely make you look ten years younger with just one application.

No men will be allowed on the premesis due to the sensitive nature of the participants. Overworked, stressed and needing a break, those in attendance, however, will be allowed to TALK about men to relieve any stress they are feeling due to the lack of sensitivity displayed by said males.

Ultimately, the goal is for the participants to come away refreshed, rested and recharged. Hopefully, the desired effects will be lasting, and not be wiped out with one thoughtless comment from a member of the opposite sex upon returning home.

Wish us luck, and I'll give a full and accurate account of the operation upon it's termination.

This blog will self-destruct in 10 seconds.....

Hey, Nine-ty

2005-11-01T08:05:00.000-08:00

This past weekend, my family celebrated the 90th birthday of my maternal grandmother. Her actual birthday was yesterday, Halloween. But due to convenience for family, we celebrated early on Saturday.

My Mamaw Mable, circa 1935

When I think about the expanse and discourse of 90 years, it boggles my mind. Most days, I am concerned about getting throught the next 90 seconds, much less years. Her mind remains sharp as a proverbial tack. But, in spite of her physical ailments, my grandmother plods on, living, breathing, eating, sleeping, thinking. Herein lies my dilemma...do I really want to live for 90 years?

The fact that my rambling mind is a constant companion in waking hours, and sometimes during dreams, makes me think I don't have the desire to listen to myself that long. I'm just not that interesting...besides, we all know that we will be ultimately alone at the end of our lives.

I have no spouse, no kids...my future is looking pretty, well, blank. Am I interesting enough to entertain myself for the next 55 years?

I can see myself at age 90...sitting in my hoveround (on the front porch), fully equipped with mud grips, heavy duty basket, vee-blade in front, 2" hitch on back...and a shotgun laid across my lap. Of course, I will be wearing a cowboy hat and boots in honor of my father, and will in all likelyhood have a revolver (.44 mag) cocked and ready in a holster somewhere on my person. Of course, I will be in possession of a flask, filled with Jim Beam. I, no doubt, will be keeping watch over my place, just waiting for someone to come along and challenge my authority. I'm sure I will own a hoveround, because my knees are sure to blow about age 50. They will be replaced, only to have them wear out again at 85.

Little kids will be horrified of me, adults will possess a reverent fear and awe of my personage, and hardened criminals will flee in my wake. Of course, no curmudgeon would be complete without a guardian, a companion to watch their back while napping. I think I'll have a brindle gray Catahoula with glass eyes...that should impell sufficient loathing and contempt into anyone thinking about bugging me. I'll feed him razorblades to keep him mean. Plus, no old crusty lady would be such without a herd of cats. They can keep the mice out of my house.

What about you? How do you see your life playing out? Ultimately, I would desire to have a long life, but can I handle it? Can I pull it off and make it fun?
I guess I, like everyone else, will have to wait and see. I have become somewhat crotchety already, so I am bound to be exponentially caustic by then. Oooooo, goody. I can't wait.

I'm Still Here, Barely.

2005-10-25T07:05:00.000-07:00

I know, I know...

I have broken the most sacred of commitments regarding my blog. I have not posted in, well, over a month now. Let it just suffice to say....er....ummm....I've been busy.

That is a friggin' understatement, truth be known. I have been up to my eyeballs in football, commercials, incessant remotes, and idiotic people. My life has become something akin to a circus, but instead of 3 rings, there are a good baker's dozen.

So, in honor of my ridiculously busy job and subsequent volunteer efforts due to said job, I'm will now list 10 things that I would rather do than grind the collective axes that accompany my job...in no particular order. Remember, tongue in cheek is an understatement.

1. Go fishing with my dad.
2. Gouge out my own eyes with a red-hot poker.
3. Ride my bike till the wheels fall off.
4. Sit in on the Saddam Hussein trial.
5. Work in my yard.
6. Win the powerball lottery.
7. Work on a road crew.
8. Cross the Bermuda triangle in a row boat.
9. Listen to country music.
10. Be on time for once.

I'll try to do better next time, but this is all I could muster.

I am uninspired. Gahhhh.

Time for a Break

2005-09-30T12:58:00.000-07:00

As many of you already know, I have had a pretty stressful time the past few weeks, for more reasons than I care to admit. So, not a minute too soon, I will be taking a few days to get some much needed R & R. Also, I plan to accomplish a few personal tasks that have gone undone. And, fingers crossed, I hope to go on a fall fishing trip at least one day. I do not care if I catch a fish, I just want to get the opportunity to try. Wish me luck.

I have come across some random stuff that is of interest to me. This was posted on a website that I visit each day...and I must say, it gave me a huge laff. http://crossetteagles.proboards43.com/index.cgi?board=Nest&action=display&thread=1127976096

I know, I know...sorry. I'm just too zombiefied to know how to make it into one little word to click.

Next, I found this while visiting dooce.com. http://www.venganza.org/
Apparently, the Kansas state school board is allowing the schools to include creationism in their repertoir. I am a person of faith, but I don't think our public schools are the place for religion to be taught. Whether you find the FSM theory funny or not, the author of the site does have a point. Plus, it's funny as hell to read.

Some food (no pun) for thought over the weekend....What do you think?

I will try log on occasionally and see what your impressions are. I suppose living in the Bible Belt will draw some interesting replies.

Peace.

Letter to Mitchell

2005-09-23T07:47:00.000-07:00

Dear brother,

Today has dawned, and brought with it another milestone in the lives of the people that love and miss you. Mitch, I can't believe you have been gone so long! Sometimes, it seems like a thousand years; sometimes, it seems just yesterday that I last saw you.

I wonder what your life would have become. Would you have married and had kids? Would you have remained a Battle Skills trainer at Camp Robinson, or would you have eventually moved home? I often wonder what type of advice you would have given during one of my many dramas. You were my brother, my best friend...I could tell you anything, and you never judged me. Thank you so much for your acceptance, love and your crazy sense of humor.

Learning to live without you in my life has taught me many things, but I think the most poignant message of all is to live each day as if it were your last. This whole concept has been heard so many times until it almost seems cliche, but it is the universal message that speaks to all men about the limited amount of time we are given. Things do change in the blink of an eye, and then the moment is forever in the past...so I choose to live without regret or apology. I don't want to waste a second of my time, because a moment from now, it could be all be over.

I have no regrets regarding the time I spent with you, because we loved each other as best we could as siblings. You and I both recognized during my last visit with you, that these moments were special, magical...although we could never understand why. Now, it is all clear to me. That would be the last visit, last conversation, last hug I would ever receive from you. And you know what? It was more than I could have ever asked for.

I watched home videos for hours and hours last night, and had personal visits will all my family who have passed on. Some may think I'm crazy, but just the sound of those familiar voices comforts me. It's the only way I can visit you now, so I'm thankful for the ones who captured so much of our family history on film.

Even though you are not with me, the storehouse of memories you have left behind makes you come alive again. A familiar phrase, or picture helps me recall the happiness you brought to my life. I keep a little box that belonged to you. It used to sit on the chest of drawers just inside your and B's room, and you kept pocket change in it. Now, it contains mementos of the life you once lived...concert ticket stubs, the sunglasses you 'borrowed' from me at our last visit, a chain you wore in highschool, your last pack of cigarettes. Sitting beside my chair is a picture of you. You remain, forever, a part of my life because I choose to keep you alive.

But I still miss you, and the space you left behind will never be filled. My only hope is that I will accurately pass on your memory to others, and remember with a smile, the man that is my brother.

Classical Metal

2005-09-20T10:04:00.000-07:00

I found a lost treasure today...disc two of my Metallica S & M cd set originally released in 1999. I'm listening to "Call of the Ktulu" and "No Leaf Clover" and all the familiar songs I've missed for so long. This music reminds me of when I realized my life was about to change. I was at home, hurriedly cooking supper, listening to MTV.

I heard Metallica and San Francisco Philharmonic Orchestra in the same sentence, and froze. Huh? I looked at the tv, and saw a huge concert hall, filled with rolling smoke that fell from the stage like the creeping mist after a rain. I saw lights pale, then blindingly bright dance across a platform...a rock concert, perhaps? Then I saw the sillouette of human forms, all alarmingly in perfectly curving rows, flanking the stage like attentive shadows.

The spotlights warmed and illuminated this eclectic mix of pomp and circumstance and the raucous ranks that comprise the group Metallica...Kirk Hammett, Lars Ulrich, the unapologetic James Hetfield, with Jason Newstead (who took the place of original drummer Cliff Burton who died in a freak bus accident in Europe). Michael Kamen manned the classically trained emsemble, who sat, poised, looking alarmingly uncertain. No wonder...the crowd was going insane! Metallica, whom had suffered much speculation under rumors of breakup, addiction and worse, had been unusually absent from the public. They, like many of us, had gone underground because of pure speculation. But, they returned to the masses refined, insightful and artfully inspired. It was amazing to watch and to hear.

There was an eclectic mix of music lovers present that night, as this was no ordinary night at the opera...die hard metallica fans sat side by side with normally aloof and classically trained observers from all walks of life. I sat mezmerized, all constraints forgotten, as they spoke to me through arrangement and verse. I remembered where I came from, I remembered who I was. You see, I was lost to myself at that time, and had lost touch with the very core of my being.

Then the first note was struck, and it was not the electrified hum of an amp, but breath over reeds, the stroke of the bow on strings. I was awestruck to hear the familiar tunes I had come to love brought to life on a sheet of music. The orchestra obeyed as Kamen instructed, and Metallica stepped into the welcoming glow of the spotlight and made their screaming debut. The meshing of this ancient art with the newly discovered vehicle of energized music blew me away, leaving me stunned and moved. After all, what pleases one's senses is just another method of delivering the primal offering that all humans crave...the mathmatical magic of rhythm.

I have come to love this mix of formal and irreverant music, and it comforts me in times that I feel lost. It reminds me that I am a combination of the two, forever mixed and tormented by my polar natures. For a moment, I am comforted in the rediscovery of my lost treasure.

Whether you like Metallica or not, this is definitely worth a listen. And if you are a fan, I suggest you check out www.cdnow.com and buy the dvd. Your eyes and ears will not believe it!

Simply put? It rocks.

The Day We Ran Away

2005-09-16T11:35:00.000-07:00

Okay, okay. Time to lighten up and remember things that are good...happy memories always help me get past rough spots.

I had to post this photo of me my sister (l) and me (r). This was taken about six or seven years ago during one of our family's annual fall fishing trips...it just also happened that we were both having personal battles. Little did we know that it would be one of the last times we would all be together at Merrisach Park as a family.

We 'ran away' that day...after we both got off work, we literally flew from our hometown and cut a two hour trip almost in half...one hour and 15 minutes, to be exact. Our intention was to visit for the evening, then drive back home. But, when we got there and smelled the fresh air, the evening lingered...and the whites were biting, and we just could not tear ourselves away from our family, our fun, our escape.

We returned to camp with an ice chest literally crammed full of some the biggest whites I've ever caught. When we drove up, I could smell the coffee Momma had brewing, and the campfire was lit. Our grandparents, our parents and friends were all there...why would we leave????

So we didn't. We risked causing ourselves heartache, but we decided to stay where we were welcomed, appreciated, wanted and loved. We knew there would be hell to pay when we got home, but we didn't care. Reluctantly, we made the necessary calls, telling the ones at home that we wouldn't be home late, we would be home tomorrow. Instead of receiving words of encouragement, we got just what we expected...a ration of shit. After that, we defiantly discussed the possibilities of staying two nights instead of one.

Our impromptu visit turned into an all-nighter. We cleaned fish until very late, packed and iced them. Meanwhile, Momma and Papaw Walcie got the grease hot and fried fish and taters. We had a fabulous dinner that would rival any gourmet eaterie, plus we watched as the huge fiery-red sun sank into the west over Lake Merrisach.

Afterward, the chairs were gathered round the fire, and fresh coffee poured into every cup. Stories were told, and there was laughter all around. The night sounds mingled with the earth-shaking rumble of barges passing in the canal. The wind swept throught the campground, carrying with it the smell of nature, of water pure and sweet. Occasionally, a great horned owl would send his message into the night, causing my grandfather's eyes to brighten in recognition. A lone coyote called to it's pups across the lake, and they reciprocated with their yip-hips of reply. Long into the night, we sat...not wanting to let go of the magic. Finally, yawning and weary, we retired to our camps for some of the best sleep we would ever enjoy.

You just cannot put a price on that. And if we had relented, and gone home to our loveless dwellings, we would have missed it all.

If you have real love in any form in your life, hold on to it...And nurture it. Don't miss out on those invaluable opportunities to tell the ones that matter most to you how much they enrich your life. Because tomorrow, you may not get another chance.

Time is so limited, but the possibilities to live for the moment are limitless.

Peace.

Why I'm REALLY Pissed Off Now

2005-09-13T12:59:00.000-07:00

Removed because I'm tired of being pissed! :)

Comments still welcomed, if you wish.

Why I'm So Pissed Off

2005-09-12T09:50:00.000-07:00

I know to many of you this post may seem ridiculously trite in the wake of the tragedies our country is facing, but I'm so damn mad, for so many damn reasons, that I can't see straight. Maybe if I get it off my mind, I'll feel better...
- ignorance
- the price of one gallon of regular unleaded gasoline
- if one more person says something negative about our military, I'm goona punch them in the face
- people who refuse to be accountable for their action or inaction
- the rich, indeed, are getting richer, and the rest of us are scraping to get by
- honest, integrity, and morals are considered 'optional' equipment in humas these days
- immature men
- instead of being rewarded for hard work and a job well-done, all I get is more hard work.
- indeed, only the good die young
- the immense amount clutter in my car
- doing everthing for someone, and never hearing 'thanks'
- women are paid one half to one third less for doing the identical job of a man in that same position
- people who don't LISTEN
- everything is so fucking expensive
- being taken for granted
- selfish behavior, especially in people who ought to know better
- posers
- incurable diseases

A Family Divided

2005-09-09T07:30:00.000-07:00

I need your help, blogworld.

This is Kenyante Brianca Brown. Her mother, Qu'zeena Mamon is an evacuee here in town, along with her four sons and her mother.

At the time the hurricane hit landfall, Kenyante was visiting with her father. Qu'zeena and her four boys fled the flood waters by climbing onto their roof until help arrived. They were rescued and came to Ashley county.

But they can't find little Kenyante. Hopefully, she was safely evacuated with her father, Kenneth John Brown.

Kenyante is four years old, and was last seen Saturday, August 27 with her father in New Orleans.

Please help us locate this little girl so she can be reunited with her family. I visited with her mom yesterday, and hugged her as she wept for her baby. Copy this picture and pass it on. If you get any information about her, post here on comments or visit www.qliteradio.com and send us an email. There are links to websites where family members are posting from around the country to let their loved ones know they are okay. We will have photos of little Kenyante there as well.

I will keep you updated on this family.

I will quote the Great Ruben...smile! Be thankful if your family is with you today, and make each day count.

Count Your Blessings

2005-09-02T08:55:00.000-07:00

As you all may have noticed, I haven't been posting very often lately.

Well, okay...I admit, I have been delinquent.

But it is for a number of very good reasons:

Ashley county has been flooded (no pun) with hundreds of victims fleeing hurricane Katrina. Since I work a a radio station, that means we have been innundated with calls to pass on useful information. That, in addition to our ridiculously busy first football game broadcast week, has left me no time to EVEN log on and check my mail.

I serve on the Crossett Chamber board, the United Fund of Ashley County board, and the Kiwanis Club. Each one of these organizations have called no less that 4 gazillion emergency meetings to help the evacuees here in Crossett.

I have been humbled this week by the faces of the people displaced from their homes, possibly forever. Many of them don't have a home to return to. Countless more have family and friend who remain unaccounted for. They have nothing....NOTHING. They need jobs, homes, schools, healthcare. We have been helping them here in Crossett, but it's literally just a drop in the bucket of destruction left in the wake of Katrina.

If you want information, or if you want to help, log on to our website and click the evacuee link. There are other links to help you locate relatives, send help, or get a glimpse of what's really happening down in NO. It's a war zone, right here in our country. God help those still trapped down there. I won't be able to really enjoy my holiday weekend knowing there are little children and the elderly dying in NO. If you pray, please ask God to have mercy on our country. And when you take a hot bath, or drink water from the faucet, or sit in the cool of your home, be thankful.

www.qliteradio.com

Fishing for Facts

2005-08-26T14:07:00.000-07:00

Since I am brain-dead from the most hectic work week in the history of civilization, I decided to post a picture of my hero, my dad. That's me on the right, doing what I truly love to do better than breathe, eat, or win money.....FISH. I will also include some interesting and little-known facts about the picture, circa 1977. This picture is one of my all-time favorites, because it reminds me of a time in my life when my days were filled with stress-free happiness. It also is a testament to a simpler time, when days spent fishing with mom and dad were the highlight of my summer. Thank you, my beloved parents, for raising me to be a country girl.

- The picture was taken at Pendleton Dam east of Dumas, AR. The dam has since been renamed Wilbur Mills dam.
- We are standing on the east side of the dam, which required that we drive an additional hour to get there. There is no passable road across it.
- The fish you see are mostly ocean striper bass. They travel up rivers to spawn, then swim back to the ocean afterwards. Nowadays, you don't get nearly as many stripers as the old days...mostly whites and hybrids.
- I was seven years old in this picture. I haven't grown much taller since then.
- See my braided ponytail? At this age, when my hair was down, it was long enough I could sit on it.
- My mom is the one behind the camera. You may notice the pic is a little off-center. It is lucky that she didn't cut our heads off, as mom was notorious for doing so. lol She got it from her momma, the notorious head-cutter-offer, Mable.
- See the do-rag on my head? Back in the day, mom called that a kerchief (kurr-chiff). She grabbed me and tied one around my head every single time I headed outside. She claimed she did it to keep me from getting an ear infection...I think she just wanted me to be ghetto-fabulous.
- Poppa was just 38 years old in this photo, a mere TWO years older than I am right now. AND, he had FOUR kids to raise. Dad, how in the world did you do it?
- I spent about half this day fishing, and the other half playing in a sand pit to the right of this photo. By the end of the day, I had sand in places I didn't know existed.
- Under his cap, my dad is bald. However, the rim of hair showing under his cap was still free of gray hairs. I had forgotten what color his hair used to be...kinda reddish, ain't it?
- I know, without a doubt, that mom had packed a lunch comprised of vienna's (pro-nounced vie-ainnies), potted meat, crackers and cheddar cheese. Perfect fishing food.

I wish I could go fishing this weekend, but I think all I'll get to do is reminisce about past excursions. If any of you get the chance, go fishing for me, will ya?

Mid Week Ramble

2005-08-24T07:43:00.000-07:00

For the life of me, I cannot get inspired.

Dunno if the opressively sub-tropical temps and humidity are the culprit, or if I'm a victim of a self-induced creative stalemate.

I can't think, it's as though my brain is on hiatus. I am incredibly busy at work, and facing uber-crunch in the next couple of weeks, so that adds to my feelings of being completely overwhelmed. How do I drag myself out of these doldrums?

You bloggers out there are creative and inspiring to me every day, so tell me what you do when your brain refuses to function properly? What do you do to 'reset' the ole noggin? I'm in a quandry here, people.

Gaaaahhhh.

Enough, already! I'm gonna stop trying for now because....it's......get.....ting.....harder....2.....think........

2005-08-19T14:13:00.000-07:00

I received an email today about a young man laid to rest after having lost his life serving his country. He was from our great state of Texas, and the author, his aunt, included photos with the email. She described the service as being a great tribute, including a church overflowing with people, and a multitude of military personnel in attendance. I have included the letter here so you, too, can understand the reason I am so pround to be an American.

What follows is a message from Vicki Pierce about her nephew James' funeral. (he was serving our country in Iraq)

"I'm back, it was certainly a quick trip, but I have to also say it was >one of the most amazing experiences of my life. There is a lot to be said for growing up in a small town in Texas. The service itself was impressive with wonderful flowers and sprays, a portrait of James, his uniform and boots, his awards and ribbons. There was lots of military brass and an eloquent (though inappropriately longwinded) Baptist preacher. There were easily 1000 people at the service, filling the church sanctuary as well as the fellowship hall and spilling out into the parking lot.
However, the most incredible thing was what happened following the service on the way to the cemetery. We went to our cars and drove to the cemetery escorted by at least 10 police cars with lights flashing and some other emergency vehicles, with Texas Rangers handling traffic. Everyone on the road who was not in the procession, pulled over, got out of their cars, and stood silently and respectfully, some put their hands over their hearts. When we turned off the highway suddenly there were teenage boys along both sides of the street about every 20 feet or so, all holding large American flags on long flag poles, and again with their hands on their hearts. We thought at first it was the Boy Scouts or 4H club or something, but it continued .... for two and a half miles. Hundreds of young people, standing silently on the side of the road with flags.
At one point we passed an elementary school, and all the children were outside, shoulder to shoulder holding flags . kindergartners, handicapped, teachers, staff, everyone. Some held signs of love and support. Then came teenage girls and younger boys, all holding flags. Then adults. Then families. All standing silently on the side of the road. No one spoke, not even the very young children. The military presence...at least two generals, a fist full of colonels, and representatives from every branch of the service, plus the color guard which attended James, and some who served with him, were very impressive and respectful, but the love and pride from this community who had lost one of their own was the most amazing thing I've ever been privileged to witness."

As you enjoy your weekend with friends and family, please remember why you have the priviledge of doing so. It's because of men like James, and hundreds of thousands of others who have gone on before. Right now, young Americans toil on foreign soil and at home to insure that the ones who have gone on before didn't die in vain. Indeed the very freedom we enjoy is threatened with every passing moment, but I am so thankful that my life and the future of my country lies in the capable hands of the men and women who serve in all branches of our armed forces. Thank you all.

SATC All-Nighter: Update

2005-08-15T11:14:00.000-07:00

As you can see from my post, I have no pics to offer of this weekend's festivities.

I was reminded, gently by B, that our attire was not one conducive to great photos ops. Such attire included, but by no means was limited to, my oldest pair of tie-waisted, baggy, too-stained-to-wear-in-public-but-still-the-most-comfy-thing-I-own khakis, a doubled up pony tail knappy beyond words, and a tank top I bought at the beach last year sans bra. Nope, not toooooo savory. I won't mention what my cohorts lounged in, but like me, very comfy stuff indeed.

So, I will give you a timeline of events to chronicle just how long it actually takes to watch 2.1 seasons of SATC. Maybe it will help you plan your first SATC All-nighter event.

4:00 p.m. - Leave work and head to nearest grocery store. Must have cheese, lots of cheese...and crackers. Plus supplies to cook a post-all-nighter breakfast complete with cathead biscuits and gravy.

4:45 p.m. - Meet B at her house, and head South. We live in a dry county, so we must drive to imbibe. Let's just say, *hiccup*, it was WELL worth the trip. My drink of choice would be a 1991 Spatlese from Joseph Wintrich vineyards in Kruv, Germany, just beside the lovely Mosel River, but the boxed stuff will do in a pinch. We carefully inspect every brand, searching for the one with the HIGHEST alcohol content. Check.

7:30 p.m. - Arrive at mi casa and commence to unloading ALL the cheese and crackers and 'other stuff'. Must mention that I went by Boo's and he donated some of his famous hickory smoked pork loin to the cause. Thanks, Boo.

8:30 p.m. - In walks N! Me and B are so pleased to see N because she moved to LR and left us all alone...boohoo! Now the party can get started. Tap the wine and get out the Marlboros! It's on like a chicken bone.

*Note - I think it is important to mention that my home is located on a pond, with a glorious view of the lush green woods behind it. VERY RELAXING PLACE, if you smell what I'm cooking. This is why I call it Chillville. We all exhale with a collective "Ahhhhhhh."

9:15 p.m. - Finally, we start Season 1...we had to talk for a bit and catch up, it would have been poor Southern taste to do otherwise. Each disc had 6 - 30 minute episodes, so we settle in to watch, we did....until N and I dozed off...

3:15 a.m. - B was still going strong about 4 a.m. when I woke up and decided to get some REAL sleep. N retired and so did I. Boxed. Wine. Good. Zzzzzzzzzz.

7 a.m. - Boo calls my cell phone. Me: *in a barely audible, whispery croak, "Huuullo?" Static. Crickle-crack.

7:01 a.m. - Turn off cell phone.

11 a.m. - Wakey, wakey, time for coffee! Slowly walk to kitchen and prepare to cook brunch for hungry all nighters.

12:30 p.m. - Fiiiiinally, N arrives after having completed a 10 hour one-man show of "The Princess and the Pea". N and I drink french-press coffee non-stop while I make the biscuits and fry the eggs. B practically inhales glass after glass of ice cold diet Mt. Dew. The house reeks of bacon, making my mouth water.

12:45 p.m. - Brunch time! Slather the biscuits with butter or gravy, consume two deliciously greasy fried eggs and more coffee, and we are officially ready for round 2. Ding-ding-ding.

1 p.m. - Start of season 2...by now, we have dragged out the cheese and crackers and veg. I never stopped snacking the whole time. Never.

2:30 p.m. - Hey! It's officially afternoon! Where's the wine? Hey, cold biscuits are gooooooood.

5:30 p.m. - We must get up and actually WALK around to keep the circulation moving. But that takes sooooo much energy. *sigh*

7 p.m. Finish Season 2! Now we have the first disc of Season 3, and we are hooked like a crackhead. CAN'T....STOP....WATCHING....MUST...KILL...BASTARD......MR.....BIG....

11 p.m. - The final credit rolls on disc one, Season 2, episode 6. Whew! But it was all worth it, each and every episode took me back in time, and I relived the joy and sorrow all over again. And now, well, I have 2 junkies who will watch with me again...B and N are hi-zooked.

We did it. And it took a loooooong time! I would recommend that you try to tackle no more than 2 seasons per event...unless you have a whole weekend to devote to it. Of course, we took time in between episodes to visit, laugh, and compare notes. It was a wonderful time for me to be near two of my dearest friends, and to forge some new memories together. I would recommend this girls' night to anyone...and as Carrie would say, it was all over "just like that". Thank you, B and N, for hanging out with me! It was one of the best times of my life.

Are You a Bia-Bia?

2005-08-12T07:36:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's another post intended to help us females understand the males species. Of course, as one male blogger pointed out to me in a prior post, some of these examples may be applied to the female species as well. Touche, C...thanks for visiting ;)

My friend B shared this with me via e-mail. Sherry Argov is the author of the book “Why Men Love Bitches.” She interviewed hundreds of men to compile this list. The original list consisted of 100 reasons why ment love bitches, but I cut it down to 50 for a more succinct post. Check out her book for the complete version. I learned alot about myself reading this list, and what NOT to do. Gahhhhh, I had it all wrong. Guess I'll have to start thinking like a man....NOT.

1.Anything a person chases in life runs away.

2.The women who have the men climbing the walls for them aren’t always exceptional. Often, they are the ones who don’t appear to care that much.

3.Sometimes a man deliberately won’t call, just to see how you’ll respond.

4.If you start out dependent, it turns him off. But if it is something he can’t have, it becomes more of a challenge for him to get it.

5.It is your attitude about yourself that a man will adopt.

6.Act like a prize and you’ll turn him into a believer.

7.When a woman doesn’t give in easily and doesn’t appear docile or submissive, it becomes more stimulating to obtain her.

8.If you smother him, he’ll go into defense mode and look for an escape route to protect his freedom.

9.A bitch gives a man plenty of space so he doesn’t fear being trapped in a cage. Then….he sets out to trap her in his.

10.If you tell him you are not interested in jumping into a relationship with both feet, he will set out to try to change your mind.

11.Always give the appearance that he has plenty of space. It gets him to drop his guard.

12.More than anything else, he watches to see if you’ll be too emotionally dependent on him.

13.He must feel that you choose to be with him, not that you need to be with him. Only then will he perceive you as an equal partner.

14.If a man has to wait before he sleeps with a woman, he’ll not only perceive her as more beautiful, he’ll also take time to appreciate who she is.

15.Sex and the “spark” are not one and the same.

16.Before sex, a man isn’t thinking clearly and a woman is thinking clearly. After sex, it reverses. The man is thinking clearly and the woman isn’t.

17.If he makes you feel insecure, let your insecurity be your guide.

18.Any time a woman competes with another woman, she demeans herself.

19.Let him think he’s in control. He’ll automatically start doing things you want done because he’ll always want to look like “a king” in your eyes.

20.When you cater to his ego in a soft way, he doesn’t try to get power in an aggressive way.

21.When you appear softer and more feminine, you appeal to his instinct to protect. When you appear more aggressive, you appeal to his instinct to compete.

22.If you give him a feeling of power, he’ll want to protect you and he’ll want to give you the world.

23.When a woman acts as though she’s capable of everything, she gets stuck doing everything.

24.Men don’t respond to words. They respond to no contact.

25.Men respect women who communicate in a succinct way, because it’s the language men use to talk to one another.

26.When you are always HAPPY; And he is always free to GO; He feels LUCKY.

27.Most women are starving to receive something from a man that they need to give to themselves.

28.Jumping through hoops often has a negative outcome: He sees it as an opportunity to have his cake and eat it, too. But when you stay just outside his reach, he’ll stay on his best behavior.

29.The nice girl gives away too much of herself when pleasing him regularly becomes more important than pleasing herself.

30.When you nag, he tunes you out. But when you speak with your actions, he pays attention.

31.Negative attention is still attention. It lets a man know that he has you---right where he wants you.

32.A little distance combined with the appearance of self-control makes him nervous that he may be losing you.

33.When you nag, he sees weakness.

34.He perceives an emotional woman as more of a pushover.

35.In the same way that familiarity breeds contempt, a slightly aloof demeanor can often renew his respect.

36.He’ll forget what he has in you …unless you remind him.

37.Men treat women the way they treat other men. They “play it cool” because they don’t want to appear weak or desperate.

38.The element of surprise both inside and outside of the bedroom is important to men, and it adds to the excitement.

39.Don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself or speak your mind. It will not only earn his respect, in some cases it will even turn him on.

40.Men often automatically assume that a bitchier woman will be more assertive in bed, and that a nice girl will be more timid.

41.You have to show that you won’t accept mistreatment. Then you will keep his respect.

42.The ability to choose how you want to live, and the ability to choose how you want to be treated are the two things that give you more power than any material object ever will.

43.In a relationship of any kind, if one person feels the other person isn’t bringing anything to the table, he or she will being to disrespect that person.

44.The more independent you are of him, the more interested he will be.

45.Don’t give a reward for bad behavior.

46.Once you start laughing, you start healing.

47.Be an independent thinker at all times, and ignore anyone who attempts to define you in a limiting way.

48.Truly powerful people don’t explain why they want respect. They simply don’t engage someone who doesn’t give it to them.

49. You can get away with saying much more with humor than you can with a straight face.

50.The most attractive quality of all is dignity.

Sex and the Country

2005-08-11T11:27:00.000-07:00

When the sixth and final season of Sex and the City (hereafter referred to as SATC) aired on HBO, I wept. Literally...for days. I would dread Sunday nights and the inevitable void SATC's departure left there.

No more fabulous Manolo's to drool after, no late night dinners with the mysterious Mr. Big, no more waiting with bated breath to see what haute coutour creation the characters would be wearing. It was like having my New York umbilical severed...

I have never been to New York, but watching SATC made me feel as if I know the city all ready. Carrie once referred to the city as 'her boyfriend'. Indeed, it was the silent character and backdrop for one of the funniest, truest and most moving television shows to ever grace the screen.

But now, thanks be to the gods of all things fashionable and funny, I can now relive each and every moment of all six seasons! You see...my dear girlfriend, B, has never partaken of all the wonder that is SATC. So, starting tomorrow night, we will embark on the first of several SATC All-Nighters. She has procured seasons one and two of my blessed SATC, and we will, in all our pajama-clad bliss, watch episode after episode until our eyes just can't take anymore.

Add chinese take-out (a al Miranda) and a blender full of mudslide, and you have one heckuva big-girl bunkin' party. Besides, what better way to forget about all our probs for just one night, and live vicariously through the Fab Four? Oh, no...these are no Beatles...these are my girls! Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and my beloved salty Samantha are all butterflies....lovely.

Even now, I am supressing a screech of delight at the thought of seeing each and every episode without interruption. And, may I suggest...if you have not seen SATC, grab a friend, and plan an all nighter of your own. I PROMISE you will not be disappointed, and you will see that even girls in NYC have the same problems as we all do...men, money, marriage. But what I love most is their unconditional friendship, and how they stick together through the good AND the bad.

SATC is coming to the country, my friends! My country house, that is...and the country ain't never gonna be the same.

Look for SATC All-Nighter pics on my site next week! All photos appear from www.hbo.com

The Succinct and the Dead

2005-08-08T13:13:00.000-07:00

Ohhhhh....my......no....freakin'......way did that just happen.

That is all I could say upon the conclusion of this week's episode of Six Feet Under.

Nate Fisher, is dead. He's wrapped in a shroud in the photo above
(check out www.hbo.com for all the details)

Not only is he dead, but he leaves behind a pregnant wife who will now have to raise his young daughter from a previous marriage. Not only is her husband dead, but she found out minutes before his demise that Nate, her husband, had humped his very own step-sister an hour or so before, causing him to collapse and causing injury to a lurking aneurism that he'd had prior surgery on. Not only is everyone in shock, but now they must endure a 'natural' funeral which is enviro-friendly, meaning Nate will neither be embalmed nor be stuffed into a typical pine box. Not only will everyone witness the removal of his body from the hurse, but they will indeed have to pitch in, including bearing his body to the site and BURYING IT.

I sat, agog, as the newest episode of Six aired last night on HBO. I literally couldn't believe my eyes, and I wondered at the viability of the episode as the story unfolded. Most people would immediately get caught up in the story itself...the fact that NO one should have such incredibly bad luck. Not me. I was stunned at the believability of the characters themselves because I HAD LIVED THAT. The look on the face of the family members, their sorrow, the way they each reacted to the loss AND to each other. It was all hauntingly familiar...just exactly like when my brother died.

Each and every actor who appeared in this episode is to be commended for producing one of the most convincing dramatic performances I have ever witnessed. Every stunning detail was shockingly represented, but the most poignant scene was the burial. Nate was lowered into an unmarked grave by his family and friends. The normally dry-eyed David has fallen apart; the mother Ruth is a zombie; Claire, the baby sister, goes through the blind motions; and the widowed Brenda has a final argument with the departed.

Now a days, this type of funeral service might seem extremely crude, but it was nothing more than a stripping away of the beautiful packaging in which we choose to shroud our dead. There is no way to mask or transform the loss of human life to be something more than the horrible reality it is. No number of flower sprays or rosey lights or prayers or sympathy cards or hymns can take away the sting of death. To me, it was the most beautiful funeral I have ever seen...because it stripped away the very thing that makes death so unbearable, the pretense. The very loss of life itself an immensely humbling experience, and to make a gaudy display seems a mockery after seeing this type of tribute. If you want to understand the gamut of emotions that accompany losing someone, watch this week's episode of Six Feet Under. For a long moment, not-so-long ago, I was Claire.

Man, oh man...

2005-08-05T13:25:00.000-07:00

We girls have to stick together cause the man game ain't gettin' no easier to play. Lately, some of my friends have been struggling in their personal relationships. So, I dug thru the stuff my girlfriends sent me when I was having a hard time with man troubles. We've all been there at one time or another, so here is some advice passed to me from girlfriends who have 'been there-done that'. This is not a man-basher...it is simply a statement of facts regarding the male psychi, and affirmation of the female spirit. I have italicized the ones that I think just tell it like it is. If it's bold and italic, I'VE LIVED IT. Whether you agree or disagree with some/all of these statements, this is good stuff.

1. If a man wants you, nothing can keep him away. If he doesn't want you, nothing can make him stay.

2. Stop making excuses for a man and his behavior.

3. Allow your intuition (or spirit, or sixth sense) to save you from heartache.

4. Stop trying to change yourselves for a relationship that's not meant to be.

5. Slower is better.

6. Never live your life for a man before you find what makes you truly happy.

7. If a relationship ends because the man was not treating you as you deserve then heck no you can't "be friends." A friend wouldn't mistreat a friend.

8. Don't settle.

9. If you feel like he is stringing you along, then he probably is.

10. Don't stay because you think "it will get better." You'll be mad at yourself a year later for staying when things are not better.

11. The only person you can control in a relationship is you.

12 . Avoid men who've got a bunch of children by a bunch of different women. He didn't marry them when he got them pregnant, why would he treat you any differently?

13. Always have your own set of friends separate from his.

14 . Maintain boundaries in how a guy treats you. If something bothers you, speak up.

15. Never let a man know everything. He will use it against you later.

16. You cannot change a man's behaviors. Change comes from within.

17. Don't EVER make him feel he is more important than you are...even if he has more education or in a better job.

18. Do not make him into a quasi-god. He is a man, nothing more nothing less.

19. Never let a man define who you are.

20. Never borrow someone else's man.

21. If he cheated with you, he'll cheat on you.

22. A man will only treat you the way you ALLOW him to treat you.

23. All men are NOT dogs. (sorry...this is arguable, IMHO)

24. You should not be the one doing all the bending...compromise is a two way street.

25. You need time to heal between relationships...there is nothing cute about baggage...deal with your issues before pursuing a new relationship.

26. You should never look for someone to COMPLETE you...a relationship consists of two WHOLE individuals...look for someone complimentary...not supplementary.

27. Dating is fun...even if he doesn't turn out to be Mr. Right.

28. Make him miss you sometimes...when a man always know where you are, and your always readily available to him, he takes it for granted.

29. Never co-sign for a man.

30. Don't fully commit to a man who doesn't give you everything that you need, HE WILL NOT CHANGE.

Hope this list is helpful, if not educational. I'm enjoying smooth sailing right now, but at any moment, anyone's relationship could run off in the ditch. Doesn't hurt to remind one's self of the facts concerning the male species. After all, it IS a man's world.....right ladies???

Reality Chick, er...uh, I Mean Check.

2005-08-04T07:10:00.000-07:00

This post is for ANYONE in need of some succint, factual information about the here and now. A friend forwarded this article to me, and I just had to share. So many of us are haunted by mistakes in the past, unrequited love, unfulifilled dreams...things that keep us from moving forward in life, and subsequently, reaching our full potential. This article helped me to realize that we only have today, so we should live as if it were our last chance. Are you in need of a reality check? Read on.

Reality Check: Do You Really Love Your Partner?
August 2, 2005
By Michele Hickford, Special for eDiets

How many good days, months, even years have you wasted holding on to "love"? I’ve done my share of it. And I know you have, because I read the emails. So why do we do it?

We do it because where love is concerned, particularly bad love, we have a very screwy sense of time and reality. Although we are LIVING in the here and now, we are LOVING either in the past or in the future.

First, let’s agree on your here and now: your reality. I’m not talking about the so-called reality we see on television but your own personal reality that you’re experiencing today, this minute.

Your reality right now is sitting and reading this. You’re doing it in a certain place, wearing certain clothes. At this moment in time, your health has a particular condition, your hair is one way or another, you’re at work or at home, and maybe drinking coffee. It’s night or day, rainy or clear. That’s your reality.

There’s another reality as well-–the one dealing with your relationship. This instant, this very instant, when you think of your partner/lover/spouse, what is your reality? Happy? Sad? Frustrated? Fulfilled? Disappointed? This is also your reality. Now. It is not the past. It is not the future. It is now.

So when you say you love your current partner/lover/spouse, exactly what moment in time are you talking about? Can you say you love that person for the way he or she is at this moment? For the way you are being treated at this moment in time? For the way she makes you feel at this instant?

At this time in your relationship, is your partner being honest and loving? Is he demonstrating by his words and actions that you are a priority, that he cares about you and wants to be with you, or work with you to make things better? No matter how you answer these questions, this is your reality.

If you answered “yes” to most of the above, you love your reality. It doesn’t matter what the past was, or what the future holds. You’re living and loving the same thing.

However, if you answered “no” a lot, it’s a different story. If you answered “no” to several questions, and you still tell me you love him, what exactly are you loving? I think it’s either one of two things: You’re either loving the past you once had, or the future you HOPE you will. But that’s a whole lot different from loving the PERSON right now.

You may love what happened in the past, and remember fondly what went on then. But you cannot live there now. It’s gone. Done. Over. No matter how great it was, it’s not what’s happening now. There is no point in holding on to love because of what once was. No matter how great it was (or seemed like it was), what matters now is only what IS. You cannot go back. You can only go forward.

But you can only go forward so far. I don’t know about you, but I’m not very good at foretelling the future. I can make some pretty good guesses about tomorrow, maybe as far as next week, but that’s about it. Okay, in a stretch, maybe even a month from now, but beyond that, forget it. Then I’m just making it up. I’m hoping.

If you keep holding on to love for someone because you’re hoping maybe, just maybe, the future may be a little different and everything will change and you’ll get what you want, I think you’re making a mistake.

If you’re hoping your lover may change, or say the magic words, or turn back into the person you first met, despite the fact that there is nothing in his current behavior or words to indicate he’s interested in doing any of that, exactly what do you think is going to occur to make it happen? A voodoo spell? A genie?

I’m not saying you should always ditch your relationship if it’s not what you want right this minute. People have moods and go through good and bad spells. But if the person you’re with is not committed to you here and now, not dedicated to working with you today and the next, he or she is not worthy of your love, no matter what happened in the past, or what you hope for in the future.

Yeeeeeehaw y'all

2005-08-03T09:48:00.000-07:00

As I type, rodeo goers from across the country are converging on our small town in SE Arkansas. Our 57th Annual PRCA Rodeo starts tonight, and wooooo-doggies, everyone in town seems to be a flutter.

We folks down here in the South would call this influx of outsiders 'a happenin'. It's 'a happenin' alright. Just stopped by the arena moments ago to invite some folks to be on the morning show. While I was talking to the announcer's wife, Mrs. Todd, I noticed several things...things that effectively told me I was NOT cut out for the rodeo circuit.

1. The Heat - As I stepped from my car, I realized that the wave of furnace-like air that engulfed me was the temperature at which I would have to conduct my job, ALL SUMMER LONG. Most of the folks there were feeding/washing their horses/ponies in the near 100 degree heat. Not only does the heat increase my sweatiness, but it also magnifies the effectiveness of my number two (no pun) reason for not being a full-time cowgirl.

2. The Poo - What do you get when you combine sub-tropical humidity, 100+ temps, and livestock? Stank. That's right people...pure, unadulterated stank. Now, I live in and was raised in the country, and we had the whole animal farm thing going on when I was young. But, for the life of me, I DO NOT remember the stench ever being that bad. And trust me, there is no smell on earth like really fresh, really abundant shig pit. But to live with said funk every single day would eventually cauterize the smell receptors in my nose, rendering me olfactory-inept. Nooooo stank you.

3. The Clothing - When you think of cowboys and cowgirls, you usually envision big hats, boots and wrangler-jeans-so-tight-you-must-have-been-born-in-them. I own boots, in fact, lots of them. I love boots...but only in the winter when my stubby little toes need protection from frostbite, or when I ride my iron horse. Having to voluntarily don boots every day would be a real disaster for me. But as I walked around the grounds of the arena, I notice that my bronze-metallic-snakeskin-strappy-heeled sandals were getting rather dusty, and my heels kept sinking in despite the years of training by mother to 'walk on your toes' so as not to skin the delicate leather stretched over said heels. I cannot give up my right to wear heels, year round. I simply would not survive the loss. Just call me Carrie-Imelda-Syl Burt. I love my shoes folks.

As much as I love my heritage, and my country-ness, I could never be a cowgirl in any real sense. So I will leave it to the resilient entourage camped out at Cap Gates Arena. I really admire them all for sticking to their raising, and continuing to bring their sport to the urban masses. It's hard, hot, stanky, thankless work...and they make it look easy. My hats off to you all.

Trees, Wheels and T-Rex

2005-08-01T11:57:00.000-07:00

When I saw this pic, I just had to use it for today's entry.

Have YOU ever literally ridden till the wheels fall off? I feel like this today. Nuff said.

Worked ALL day Saturday, outside (****HOT*****), so I didn't have much of a break this weekend. Not only that, but my sleep is all jacked up...wake up at 2, 3, 4...and having some crazy friggin' dreams to boot.

Last night? I dreamed of huuuuuuge trees...I was walking down a road through a forest. Everywhere I looked, there were these gi-normous trees, and I 'm not talking sequoias. These were our typical indigenous trees, like oaks, maples, etc. Except they were LIKE SKYSCRAPERS....and there were people in the trees, lumberjack-esque guys, standing here and there looking up at the monolithics wonders. But nobody was cutting them, or disturbing them. They were just marvelling at them, saying things like, 'I could cut a 10 foot wide board from this tree' and 'I have never seen anything like this.' When I woke up, it all seemed very Jurassic Park. I kept expecting T-Rex to rip the roof off the house and gobble me up like a Scooby snack.

Which reminds me of a childhood recurring dream. I was fascinated with dinosaurs from the age of 7 on. I read every dinosaur book I could get my hands on, so I had dinos on the brain. I kept having dreams that a T-Rex was loose in Milo, and he was stalking ME. In my dream, I could hear him lumbering up the road, searching for me, his next meal. It was dusk, and I ran from my house and wound up in a field, in a pavilion sort of thing, octagonal in shape with an opening in the center of the roof. I scurried inside and hid in the darkest corner I could find, praying that I wouldn't be devoured alive. Then....BOOM..........BOOM.....BOOM...HE WAS APPROACHING! I was frozen with fear....then his head appeared over the narrow roof. T-Rex looked directly at me, and said.....

"Burt."

That's it. No chomping of bones, no squishing me with his huge feet.

I'm insane, I know. But I was just wondering if any of you dream experts can give some insight on T-Rex and trees, and what they mean in dreams. BTW...haven't had the T-Rex dream in many, many years.

Today has been kinda surreal. It's Monday, alright.

Friday Night Lights

2005-07-28T12:43:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year again...

The summer is making it's final attempt to cook us all to death with searing heat, the kids are dreading the return school, AND....we are one short month away from the first high school football game of the season. Awwwww yeah!

I LOVE FOOTBALL. Since I was a little girl, I can remember what happened every Monday night at my house. Everyone had to get their baths and 'jammers on. There was a pallet in the floor for us younger ones, and momma would pop a couple of HUGE tubs of popcorn, ya know, the ole timey kind made in a skillet. Man it was good.
Then you would hear it...BA-BA-BA-BAAAAAAAAA! The opener for Monday night football would blare across the television, and it was officially ON. Everyone watched football at our house. Yeah, we only had ONE TV, but we watched because we all loved it...dad in his recliner, momma on the couch (probably knitting), and the rest of us locked in on all the glory that was the NFL. I remember Joe Namath, Mean Joe Green...

When my bro Bob was in high school, the tradition continued. The Hamburg Lions were a tuff bunch of good ole country boys, and they made it to the playoffs the year I turned 7. I remember crying my eyes out after we lost in the second round playoffs to Camden. We had won all the other games, so why did we lose this one? I was devastated.

Now, I am lucky enough to relive my childhood love of football as an adult.

As part of my job, I am a sideline reporter for Crossett football games. Above, l to r, me, Crossett head coach Teodis Ingram, my boss Dennis Maxwell who does play-by-play, and our color man, former Crossett coach Jeff Senn.

This is one part of my job that I have come to LOVE...being right up in the middle of the action is like pure adrenaline. Eaves dropping on the refs, seeing the plays up close, it's gotta be more addictive than a crack pipe.

What is your favorite memory of sports? Holla...and by the way....

WE'RE BAAAAAACK!

Caption This

2005-07-26T14:03:00.000-07:00

Okay, boys and girls! Time to drag out your collective opinions and tell me...

What thoughts come to mind when you see this picture?

This was sent to me via email with a group of photos (photographer unknown). There were a slew of great photos, some hilarious, some shocking, some, well....just gross. But this, ah.....this is provocative, and not by way of T & A.

Nowadays, you get some many differing opinions on how women are viewed, how they are treated, blah-blah-blah. What do YOU think?

Here's my take in a nutshell. Many people claim that women are overlooked, overworked, under paid and under appreciated. This IS a man's world...but aren't we all responsible for whom and what we are? Some women choose to use 'what God gave them' to make a living. And therein lies the controversy. The fact is, when most men are faced with a good looking woman, they will dissolve into jelly. Their resolve is linked to something so primal, that it literally disintegrates when they get an eye full. So some smart person, somewhere decided to capitalize on the female form. And guess what? Willing females from ALL WALKS OF LIFE came running...they aren't stupid, they know they will make hella money.

I figure if a smart, self possessed female capitalizes on her looks as a means to extort money from gawking successful males, SO WHAT? Sounds to me like she's using her head for something besides a hat rack, and getting paid in the process. I don't believe in the exploitation of women on ANY level, but I think it's time for us gals to realize just how smart and well-armed we really are. And for all working girls out there, whether you are shaking that money maker, or running a corporation, be happy and love yourself. You have all the power of the universe at your disposal...just ask that guy sitting next to you.

Ginger the Great

2005-07-25T14:03:00.000-07:00

After having perused my newly revamped blog, I thought I should pay homage to the one who made it all happen, Ginger.

The first time I met Ginger was here...at a little ole place called Chelsey's.

Anybody else out there miss going there?

Anyway, our friend J was having a birthday, but she was mighty pregnant at the time. So we went to a place in which the extremely bad/good entertainment would make up for her inability to drink.

So we had a great big, fun, loud, hot, giggly, smokey, raucous birthday party right there...in the midst of about 150 rednecks.

Muuuuuuch later in life, I met Miss G right here, again, on the web. And I'm so glad I did...because now, due to her savvy, I have a fabulous blog AND a new buddy.

Thanks for restoring some of the faith I had lost in human kind, G-Dawg. You are smart, self-possessed, honest, talented, generous, beautiful and a dam hard worker...something I rarely if ever encounter in my daily life. So consider yourself 'snapped' today! You sure as hell deserve it.

MY BLOG LOOKS GREAT!!!

Now...who can name all the peeps in the pic? Tick-tock...

Where's G-dawg?

2005-07-22T13:04:00.000-07:00

Where can I get some samples???????????

WTF? Friday

2005-07-22T09:19:00.000-07:00

It's impossible to compose my thoughts when all that keeps running through my mind is bulls***.

I'm mad. Angry, disillusioned, disappointed...hell I'm furious. There are so many reasons for my anger that I can't pinpoint just one.

London is under attack....AGAIN. When will this madness stop???? Every day driving to work, I'm afraid to turn on the radio for fear of hearing about more bombings. If I could get my hands on the ones responsible, I would make them beg for death.

My job has never been as hectic as it is right now. And in just a short month or so, it's gonna get worse. I used to look forward to summer as being our 'off season'...but those days are gone. My life has become a cycle of sleep, wake, work, sleep, wake, work. The work actually continues after my paying job, as I never seem to get to stop moving and sit down until after 9 p.m. each day. WTF?

Men. I do not understand men. I don't know how to deal with them, communicate with them, or please them. I'm sick of trying. My friend has a book entitled 'Why Men Love Bitches'. I need to read that one, maybe then I would begin to understand why I'm so unlikeable to the opposite sex. It just doesn't pay to be nice anymore...being nice nowadays is interpreted as a sign of weakness. When did THAT happen?

Still waiting for that 'break' that I ranted about earlier this month. No breaks, no help, no reprieve. And you know what? I don't expect I'll ever get one. I've heard it said, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." Hell, I would love to get a whopping truck load of lemons! They are a dam sight more palatable than bulls***.

I Can't Stand No Mow

2005-07-15T12:51:00.000-07:00

Got some family coming in this weekend for a visit, so I plan to do a little mowing tomorrow and spiff the place up.

I have been in negotiations with Boo to work on my beloved high-wheeled trimmer...it is under the weather right now and I neeeeeed it. It will cut hella weeds and even some saplings, and unlike a hand-held trimmer, it won't break my back

Dad's front ditch is a jungle, as is the pond bank in front of my house. SO I GOTS TA HAVE DAT TRIMMA! *sigh*

My only other option is this...

Now I've used kaiser blades, swing blades and the like...but this is ridiculous. And don't anyone say a dang thing about me being from Ark-in-saw. I gotta git er dun.

HAVE A FREAKIN' GREAT WEEKEND, YO!

My Hero

2005-07-14T08:13:00.000-07:00

Had a nice visit with my dad yesterday. That's him, sitting on his 88 Harley Wide Glide...it's getting a new electrical system right now, so we haven't ridden together in quite a while. I'm ready for another ride with my dad, after all, he is why I love bikes in the first place. Although he doens't burn rubber as much he used to, if I'm riding passenger, he will nail it to the road on takeoff just to remind me he still can. That is my FAVORITE part...

I always learn something when I go visit dad, usually about myself and why I am the way I am. And such was the case yesterday. I definitely am my father's daughter, and I count this a blessing. The only thing I hope NOT to inherit from him is his hairdo...you can't tell fromt the pic, but dad is bald.

As we talked yesterday, the conversation never lagged or became repetitive. We talked about family, and upbringing and good and bad. That is why I love my dad so much...he never sugar coated one thing while teaching me right from wrong. He laid it all out, and let me decide for myself.

Looking forward to a good time this weekend. My brother and his family are coming for a visit, and there will surely be a "pickin''. I'm not referring to vegetables, I'm talking about guitars! I'll take lots of pics to post next week of the jam session.

Oh...btw...my dad, my uncle and some friends played at a local "club" in town last night. I wonder if they brought the house down? I'd better call and be sure I don't need to bail him out of jail....LOL...JUST KIDDING, DAD.

Go with me to Milo...

2005-07-11T07:09:00.000-07:00

Last week, as you all know, was a tough week for me. One of the first things I do when I get off-center is get grounded again...I go home.

I did just that last Friday evening. As I headed north toward Milo, my car seemed to switch to auto-pilot, and I seemed to start breathing a little easier. The day was lovely, cooler but still a bit hazey. As I drove past all of the home places that have been indelibly etched into my mind, I recalled fond memories of the people who live, or in some cases, lived there once upon a time. I saw Shorty in his garden...Mamaw and Papaw's old house place...my great grandmother's old home place, too.

As I approached my first destination, my aunt's home, I remember all the times my cousins and I would play in that front yard. They had the only trampoline in the family, so of course we wore the springs off it. Games like "King Cobra" and "D. Faye" come to mind. One of our favorite things to do was spin 45's on the portable record player, under the concrete carport, and roller skate through an "obstacle course" created entirely of work and gum boots. My skates were electric blue with bright yellow/gold stripes, gold wheels, and glitter gold laces. I was the shiznit.

My grandmother now lives behind my aunt's house. I stopped to see her, and she greeted me at the door, fly swatter in hand. It reminded me of how her husband, my papaw, would spend most of the spring and summer months with a fly swatter permanently attached to his hand. He would suck his teeth in frustration, and kill flies. He hated them with a fury, and killed them non-stop. I told mamaw, "Walcie lives!" She just laughed, and we visited about this and that for the next hour or so.

We then made our way to the back yard to check out Nanie's vegetable garden. She has everything you can imagine in a tiny garden...squash, tomatoes, peppers, rosemary, sage, cucumbers, zuchini. She managed to load me up with some of everything before I left, man I love being country. Mamaw and I hadn't been outside very long when up drove my aunt. I helped her get the groceries inside, and said hi to Uncle James.

Now, James M., as we call him, promptly got up, put on his boots and came outside. He motioned for me to speak to him, so I walked over and he said, "Baby, you wanna go fer a buggy ride?" Well, naturally, I did. Now, a buggy is what most people would call a surrey, or a one-horse drawn open carriage. We walked to the barn, and Uncle caught his 8 year old horse, Bob. We geared ole' Bob up with all his tack, hitched him to the buggy, and off we went. Bob knows his business, probably because Uncle worked for hours with him, in the round pen, then letting him practice pullng a skid. Either way, the ride was smooth as silk.

We made our way up Springhill Road, and then turned south onto my dad's road. We waved and hollered at lots of neighbors, something you could never do from the seat of your car, or a motorcycle. Everything....just...slowed....down....it was amazing the things I saw that I was going too fast to notice before. Wildflowers in the road ditch, the neighbors yards filled with summer color, the perfectly kept vegetable gardens. I soaked it all in as we clip-clopped up the road. Stopped at dad's house for a minute, just to hack him off (he couldn't go, buggies a two-seater), then turned around at Mr. Ed's house. Of course he came boiling out the front door to chat, moving all of 2 miles per hour. We chatted for a moment, then headed back.

Saw Boo on the road, and he wound up back at my Aunt's house. Then we visited with dad and Hank for a bit, then I stopped by to see my sister for a much needed loooooong catch-up talk. I needed to touch base, recharge, get grounded.....heck, I needed to go home. And indeed, there is no place exactly like it.

A mother like mine...

2005-07-08T07:55:00.000-07:00

Today is the day...a day I won't ever forget.

It's the 3rd anniversary of the day you went away.

I remember how hot it was when we got you in the vehicle and took you to the hospital. I knew what the trip meant, but I could do nothing to stop what was happening. We were helpless, as your life took it's ultimate course. That was the biggest part of the pain for me, not having the ability to take away your illness, to heal you, to help you. I kept thinking, what else can I do to stop this?

I remember how tiny you looked, so fragile. I wanted to hold you and make it better, but I didn't have the power. All I could do was hold your hand and tell you "I'm here."

My mind kept wandering over the past, the memories of you that were the most poignant...little things about you that your child could find comfort in. The fragrance your wore, your polished nails, your little gleeful smile, the way you would stand with your hand on your hip, the way you could fall asleep on the couch in the middle of knitting then wake up and resume, never missing a beat. I remembered every detail, like the sun-drenched pages of my favorite story book. Even now, I can see you, sitting at the kitchen table, an arrangement on display with flowers you cut from your yard. You might be talking on the phone, or writing, or doing your nails, or cooking. I remember how helpless and lonely I felt, and how I longed to take your place. I remembered the time I had a high fever, and you sat all night by my bed, holding my hand till I got better.

I could never repay you for your love, nor could I fathom it's depths. And today, the love remains. The mere memory of your love is enough to sustain me, because I know that you are whole now. Perhaps you are cutting flowers from some heavenly garden, or sharing your smile with another. I want you to know I will always remember your sacrifices, and I will never forget my mother's love, ever. And if I am ever blessed with a child, I will pray that God will help me become a mother like mine.

Thank you, momma. I miss you so much.

Gimme three steps...

2005-07-07T12:16:00.000-07:00

Busy just doesn't do justice in describing this week. Two words? Little League. Nuff said.

We have a state baseball tournament coming to our town tomorrow, with a whopping 32 teams in attendance. Southeast ark-in-saw ain't never seen nuthin' like it.

When things are busy like this, I want to run away. Honestly, I do...run from the chaos. Although I have recovered from my previous rant, I'm squirrelly beyond words. I'm just waiting for a break in the action, then WWOOOOSH! I'm gonna jet. Perhaps if I word on my resolve, I'll make it one more day.

Me and Boo are looking to escape the rat race soon...maybe take a long weekend and stay in a houseboat on Lake Hamilton. No phones, no tractors, just me and thee.

Gimme three, and I'm gone yo.

Cynic's Corner

2005-07-06T07:09:00.000-07:00

I know I have been seriously delinquent with my posts of late, and for that I apologize. I have not been following the good rules of blog etiquette. I should be ashamed of myself.

But I'm not. Why? Because my new motto of late is 'devil may care'.

That's right, friends. I officially don't give a crap about anything, period.

I have spent the majority of my life trying to be the best damn person possible. I have been big-hearted, generous and truly concerned for others, and I have tried to help. Really, I have done my dead-level best to make this world a better place to be. I am not bragging, I'm simply telling what I truly thought was my lot in life, and, somehow I have endeavored to be a bright cheerful person in spite of it all.

My jaded point of view, however, has been attempting to rear it's cynical head for quite some time now. But, somehow, I have managed to hang on to my positivity through sheer grit and determination.

Well, I am now tired...I mean fed-up-with-everything weary. I'm not trying to blame anyone or anything for how I feel, unlike the majority of people on the planet. Although the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, nobody seems to mind a bit. Bad people live in relative comfort and seem to thrive, and we honest people with good hearts and even better intentions? We get jerked around, lied to, used up, taken for granted. How did things get so twisted?

I don't want to sue anyone for money I don't deserve.
I don't expect to win the lottery anytime soon.
I don't blame my parents, teachers, or a minister for my failures.
I don't want to be placated or patronized.

I...just...want...a...break.

I just want to see a little bit of turn-around from all the good things I've tried to contribute throughout my life. I thought, if I was patient enough, that some of that good would come back to me. So far? Nada...zip....nought. Lately, my life has become a series of disappointments. Boo-hoo, I know. Poooooor me.

So, all you happy people out there? Rejoice. Enjoy your fleeting comfort, because it won't last. Do you think I'm being mean? Not at all. I'm just giving you fair warning. Because sooner than later, your life is gonna fall off in the ditch. I suggest you go buy a sweet chain, you're gonna need it.

Our Town, 2005

2005-06-29T07:10:00.001-07:00

I visited my hometown of Hamburg yesterday during my lunch hour, running a few errands. As I headed south leaving town, I stopped at the second of two redlights in town, the interesection of 425 and Hwy 8. I looked east toward First Baptist....then I saw it. I couldn't believe my eyes, the old Portis Elementary School has bee razed to the ground!

I sat there, agog. The light turned green, and I reluctantly drove on as I stared in a mixture of disbelief and sadness. You have to understand...my very first days of school were spent in that old building. I didn't attend kindergarten, as it wasn't a requirement back in the stone age, so my first classroom experience occured the first day of school, first grade.

My first teacher was Mrs. Mary Barker, and to this day, she is STILL my favorite teacher, ever. I remember, like it was yesterday, the feeling of excitement and wonder as I entered that classroom for the first time. There were amazing things everywhere, bright colors, all types of gadgets, a mammoth chalk board with colored chalk!, and BOOKS....I have never in my life seen so many BOOKS! And I wanted to read all of them, at once.

Those first days of school were a time of wonder for me. I was a country kid, so I didn't know ANY of my classmates, so I learned how to make friends. I had many happy days at that school, and I remember many of the teachers who were there...of course, Mrs. Barker, also Mrs. Pauline Knight, Delores Nutter (who was my second grade teacher), and I could NEVER forget my principal, Mr. Bobby Harper.

I must tell you a story about my first visit to the pricipal's office. It was unplanned, I tell you...and I was HORRIFIED. I was sitting in Mrs. Nutter's class one day, when one of my classmates passed me a note. Now, I didn't know that note passing was what NOT to do, so I took it, opened it and proceeded to read it. It had a word on there I had never seen before, but I did recognize the first word as "BULL----". The second word was shit, but being 7 years old, and never having seen it before, I was clueless. About the time I had it read, Mrs. Nutter appeared before me and removed the piece of paper from my hand.

She said, "What do you have to say about this?"
Trembling with fear, I replied, "Sammy Cook handed it to me."

Yes, I still remember his name. So, she carts us both off to see the principal. I would much rather have faced a firing squad than to go there, because I knew what ever misery was dealt to me at school, would be doubled by the time I got home....via Bobby and Syl. I steeled myself and took a deep breath as we entered the-place-from-which-bad-students-never-return. There sat Bobby Harper, looking very stern. I might have well been given audience with the Pope, because I was utterly stricken...with fear, wonder, awe. I was in THE principal's office, and I was there to be disciplined. I might not survive, so I said a silent prayer of supplication to my maker, and got ready to tell my version of the story.

He looked briefly at the note, trying to appear unamused by this heinous offense in ink.
"Who wrote this?', he inquired. I said NOTHING, not wanting to rat out my classmate. Remember, I had no idea what the note said.
"I did.", said Sammy, speaking in the tiniest voice I had ever heard.

Mr. Harper then asked the worst question a disciplinarian could ever ask, "What do you both think I should do about this?'
Shock, horror! I couldn't believe he was actually asking ME how I would be paying for said offense. Sammy muttered something unintelligible in reply. I just stood there, with a snaggle-toothed guffaw. After a moment, I told him what I had heard, many, many times from my parents as they doled out discipline to my older siblings. Remember, I was SEVEN.

With all the dignity I could muster, I calmly replied, " Mr. Harper, I guess I'll just have to face the consequences."

I recieved no paddling, nor did I face any type of torture for my offense.

When Mr. Harper was able to speak, stifling laughter he said, "Don't either of you let me catch you passing notes like this again, do you understand?"

Big-eyed and thankful, we both replied with a hearty, "Yes, sir!"

Mrs. Nutter was grinning like a mule eating sawbriars as she steered us back to class. The instant the door shut to Mr. Harper's office, he literally burst out laughing. I never could figure out what was so funny about such a brush with certain death.

Later, much later in life, my mother recounted her version of that story to me. She told me of how she received a phone call that day, from a breathless-with-laughter young principal. She told me of how he could hardly tell the story without laughing, and the pride she felt at my resolve. It's one of those memories of childhood ingrained forever in my mind.

So, goodbye, Portis Elementary...if only those walls could speak! Now, it's a pile of rubble. But once upon a long time ago, a young girl from the country came to town, and became a student within it's brick walls.

This acronym's for me...

2005-06-27T12:36:00.000-07:00

This is an official disclaimer for what I am about to say.

It's Monday, SUCKY day, and it reeks of corruption. All I have to say is....

????WTF????

- ever wonder what happens when the 'wheels' suddenly fall off your ride while cruising thru your day?
- does the thought of getting out of bed to do the daily grind make you so depressed you wish for sudden death?
- why do so many folks get wrapped around the axle over the most insignificant, trivial things imaginable?
- how did people get so friggin' mean and petty?
- what happened to the inherently good human spirit?
- tired of wearing boot prints on the back of your neck from people stepping on you?
- I've heard of it, but has anyone yet to encounter this elusive thing called 'a little slack'?

There is an explanation. It's called the WTF factor.....so the next time you are having a bad day, just say...

????WTF????

*****!!!screaming!!!*****

Country folks, country ways...

2005-06-22T09:06:00.000-07:00

Hi y'all...I just ran across this email, and was reminded of my humble upbringing. After having read it again, and laughing at myself again, I have decided to blog it. (author unknown) So here's your chance to find out.....am I ghetto, country, or both? Take this test and find out. The questions in bold are the ones I personally am privy to. What do YOU rate? My score.....86! I'm a country-ass, what can I say? Holla!

Straight Ghetto/Country Test

1. You've ever used an album cover for a dustpan. (5 points)

2. If you've ever run a race barefoot in the middle of the street. (10 points) Note: The 'street' was gravel.

3. You had a candy lady in your neighborhood. (5 + 5 extra points if your house was the candy lady)

4. If you ever had to pick your own switch or belt. (3 points for each)

5. If you have ever had to walk to school or walked home from school. (2 points)

6. If you have ever used dishwashing liquid for bubble bath. (5 points)

7. If you ever mixed Kool-Aid one glass at a time because you got tired of other people drinking up the Kool-Aid you just made. (5 points)

8. If you have ever played any of the following games: hide and go seek, hide n' go get it, freeze tag, momma may I?, blind man's bluff or red light/green light. (2 points each)

9. If your neighborhood had an ice cream man. (2 points + 2 if he rang a bell) Note: we had a milk man!

10. If you refer to "Now and Later" candies as "Nighladers". (5 points)

11. If you have ever run from a bully (5 points + 5 if you got away)

12. If you've ever had reusable bacon grease in a container on your stove. (5 points + 15 if you still do it)

13. The batteries in your remote control ever been held in by a piece of tape. (5 points)

14. If you have ever worn any of the following fragrances: Brute, Hai Karate,Jean Nate, Old Spice, Chloe, English Leather, Stetson, Charlie, or Faberge. (1 point each)

15. You've ever used Tussin. (5 points)

16. You've never been to the dentist. (15 points)

17. If you have a friend or family member whose nickname is one word said twice: dee-dee, fee-fee, man-man, kay-kay, lee-lee,ree-ree, ray-ray, nay-nay, etc. (10 points)

18. You have ever paged yourself for any reason. (3 points)

19. You've ever worn house shoes outside of the house.
(2 points)

20. You add "ED" or "T" to the end of words already in the past tense (for example, Tooked, Light-Skinneded, kilt, ruint, etc.) (5 points)

21. You use 'n'em to describe a certain group of people (for example Craig 'n'em or momma 'n'em) (5 points)

22. You've ever driven on a donut more than 2 weeks after your flat. (5 points)

23. Your child drops his/her pacifier and you sanitize it by sucking it. (10 points)

24. You have ever slept in a chair to avoid messing up your hair. (10 points)

25. You've ever left a social gathering with a plate. (2 points)

26. You can't hold a glass because of the length of your nails. (5 points)

27. The gold teeth in your mouth spell words. (10 points) Note: Dad had a partial gold tooth up front, but no initials

28. You don't have your own place but your child has a leather coat and a pair of Jordan's. (15 points)

29. You constantly hit *69 and ask, "Did you just call here?" (10 points)

30. You think Tupac is still alive and recorded all of his recent releases after his death (20 points)

Now the totals ...

00 - 50 points - I guess you were raised in the suburbs

51 - 75 points - A bonafide ex-hoodrat

76 - 150 points - Spent a little time in the ghetto, huh? (Here I am!)

150 points or more - Still there, huh?

2005-06-20T13:29:00.000-07:00

Me on my purple psychiatrist...I recommend one for everybody!

Easy Rider

2005-06-20T13:05:00.000-07:00

I had a rare, and welcomed opportunity to ride my motorcycle this weekend. There isn't much to compare to the feeling you get, when the sun is shining, the wind is in your face, and the pipe are thumping...glug-glug-glug-glug-glug. It wasn't a long trip...it wasn't a fast trip.

"No hurry!", my bike seemed to say to me. "Just gliiiiide....breath the air....see the sights. RELAX."

So I relented. When I started out, I was so encumbered with worry and responsibilities. My mind would not stop running. But soon, the smell of green grass and recent rain slowly unravelled the ball of shredded paper in my head, and I started breathing, slowly and deeply. My grip relaxed on the drag bars, and I felt the knot of tension tied at the base of my skull give way. The cloudless blue sky emanated with a soft glow, casting it's glory down on the green fields. My headache stopped, and euphoria took it's place. Honestly, It was like lithium on wheels. Fantastic!

I was in the company of good friends, including Boo on his bike, and Boo's folks on another bike. As we clucked along, I thanked God for being able to ride my bike in such a beautiful place, with such wonderful people. It kinda reset my thinking, and gave me a good start to the week.

So tell me...what do you do to reset your thinking? When the doldrums come calling, how do you pick yourself up?

For me, bliss is as close as my bike...I think I'll take a little late evening spin after work today. Peace.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DADDY!

2005-06-17T07:44:00.000-07:00

Most everyone can recall at least one happy memory of childhood. For me, memories of childhood include many times spent with my father...we did a lot of fishing and dad never said 'no' when I wanted a ride on his Harley. I would say, "Go fast daddy!", and then hold on for dear life as he capably fulfilled my request. I would scream and laugh until he let off the gas and slowed down. I went for a ride not long ago as a passenger, and once again felt that exhiliration from childhood...imagine me, at my age, screaming and laughing as we launched onto the open road. I was 8 years old again.

As I've gotten older, my dad and I have become friends. I never imagined all those years ago that I would see my father as one of my best friends, but that's what he is. Whenever I get totally overwhelmed by life or relationships, or some other burden, I go to see my dad. Because I know, without a doubt, that whatever was bothering me will be a long distant memory by the time our visit is done. He has a gift...the ability to put things into perspective. He makes me laugh by telling me stories of his childhood...like the time he shot Biddy Clark's old plowng horse on the butt with a BB gun just to see what would happen, or the time he stuck his dad in the neck with a 3 foot cattle prod and pressed the button. He gently reminds me that things are nearly as bad as I think by reminding me of my blessings...my raising, my family, my home, my friends.

So today, I celebrate you dad. It's your birthday, and I want you to know just how much I appreciate you. It may sound trite, but I cannot tell you how much your friendship has come to mean to me. You have always taught me that things change, and now our relationship has changed. I am so thankful that I can talk to you, and know I have your honesty and confindence. That is a precious, rare thing. I don't think I could exist without knowing that you are the reason I am who I am. Your sheer grit has pulled me from the grasp of many depressions, and I am forever grateful to you for that. Thank you for SHOWING me that there is more to life than money, men and mischief...thank you for instilling a sense of pride in me that never falters...thank you for being my advocate, even when no one else would...thank you for never, ever failing to tell me that you love me, because that really made a difference in my life.

Oh, I am so blessed to have you as my father! As long as I live, I will admire, respect, obey and revere you. You deserve at least that much from me...after all, you have earned it.

All my love forever, my father, my friend.
Pollyanna

The envelope please...

2005-06-16T12:30:00.000-07:00

I'm on pins and needles today, my friends. Today is the day that we will find out, here at the radio station, if we will get the rights to broadcast sports for a local school district. We obtained the rights 3 years ago, but now it's time to re-up.

When we first took on broadcasting local high school sports, I had NO idea how much fun it would be. I also was surprised to find out the amount of time, energy, and downright dedication it requires. But I can honestly say, it has been one of the most rewarding jobs I've ever done.

There is something magical about high school sports, something ageless. And getting to be a part of that momentum is nothing less than spectacular. You get to plug in to that energy and ride the wave of excitement...it makes me actually feel YOUNG again.

But perhaps the most rewarding aspect has been getting to know the coaches and staff, admin, teachers, players, cheerleaders, band members, parents...you all have enriched my life greatly with your knowledge, your enthusiasm, and your talent. I am humbled that you have allowed us to represent you for these past 3 years. And I sincerely hope that we will be given the opportunity to sign on again. Otherwise, Friday nights just won't be the same.

I'll keep y'all posted on the results...keep fingers crossed until you hear from me!

Haiku, Can You?

2005-06-14T13:29:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm hurtin' for ideas today, 'cause my head is jammed, cram packed with useless, superfluous information. But, in the midst of the madness is a little book one of our local high schools produces every year. It contains poetry and sketches done by students...
So, after nearly 20 years of being 'school-less', I will attempt a haiku that captures this exact moment in time for me. Please do the same on comments... It's quick and succint and easy. Don't think too hard or you will defeat the purpose!

3 lines.
1st - 5 syllables
2nd - 7 syllables
3rd - 5 syllables.

Try it...you know you wanna.

HAIKU

Thunder from afar

Muttering a song of rage

Raindrops in my mind

Me, 150 years ago...

2005-06-10T13:30:00.000-07:00

Howdy, y'all. Now, I know you are looking at this photograph, and you are thinking, "Is this who I think it is?" Yes, yes it is. While on our illustrious vacation, my friend B and I decided to see what it was like to be "working gals" a la Dodge City. To say the least, I felt very comfortable with my props, and we both seemed to fit the bill quite well. I was able to imagine, for a moment, that we were actually living in the old west...that we were making a living the best way a gal could back then...and that we weren't putting up with any crap from anybody, much less a man! Hope you enjoy our trip thru nostalgia...and um, B? Is that a bull whip in your hand??? LOL

2005-06-08T13:00:00.000-07:00

Announcing Miss Relay for Life 2005, Dan McGhee a.k.a. "Cotton-Candy Crawford". Yeah, he's the one on the right. Each year, Relay has a womanless beauty pageant as part of Relay for Life to raise money for the American Cancer Society. Dan is a member of the Kiwanis Club/Q-Lite 99.5 team, plus we were proud to claim Miss Relay 2004 as a Kiwanian as well. YAY KIWANIS CLUB, WOOP-WOOP-WOOP!!!! By the way, that great looking guy on the left is Clay Jordan, celebrity from the CBS television series Survivor-Thailand. Clay was an honorary Kiwanis team member, and did obstacle course races for donations...he and his beautiful wife Linda came at 4 p.m. and stayed til 1 a.m!!! Clay, you are off the chain! Dan, dahling, you are fabulous! IF YOU MISSED RELAY, YOU MISSED THE FUN!

Word-lympics 2005

2005-06-07T09:13:00.000-07:00

These fine examples of the English language were sent to me from a friend. All you wordsmiths out there will appreciate the tongue-in-cheek approach to these every day word. These folks aree pretty 'glib', indeed...check out my fave, #13. Heh-heh-heh. And I'm sure some of you know someone who is suffering from #9. Dig it...

The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year's winners:

1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.

2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

4. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for any purpose.

5. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

6. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

7. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

8. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

9. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It's, like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's, like, a serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, which gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating. And the pick of the literature:

18. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an a$$hole.

Books a Million, I've been tagged!

2005-06-06T05:54:00.000-07:00

I FOUND MY DRAFT, THANK THE LAWD.....here it is, finally. Geez.
Thanks to G-dawg for giving me subject matter for my post. Your timing is impeccable, as is your taste in books.*grin*
We have several in common, in fact...tag I'm it!

I. Total number of books I've owned: My love of books started in childhood, so I have to give history there. My mom enrolled me in a book club, in which I received 2-3 books each month. I would run madly to the mailbox to see if my latest additions had arrived. These were not story books, they were learning books...running the gamut from the planets and space to dinosaurs and fossils. I was fascinated with dinos and knew EVERYTHING there was to know about them. As a kid, in summer I would go to the library EVERY TWO WEEKS and load up on books. When it was too hot to play outside, I read...and read. So did my dad, and that explains where I got my love for the written word. Over the course of my life, and today even, I estimate I have owned/read/passed on hundreds of books...and I still do. In my spare room at home is a book shelf LOADED with books. I have even more in storage. And, if I count my dad's personal library, then tons more.

II. The last book I bought: Hmmmm...that's a tuffie. I usually don't buy that many because I can get them from the library, read them, then buy them if I truly love them. Plus, my storage of said books is very limited. I imagine the last book I bought was a gift for someone else, probably a cookbook! I own tons of cookbooks, and cannot seems to stop buying more. I often buy books as gifts for people, because the sentiment can be enjoyed over and over again. I usually write a message inside with a date, so the recipient will remember where it came from. To me, books make the best gifts.

III. The last book I read: Elmore Leonard, 'The Switch'. I devoured it the first 2 days of my vacation. It's a story about a failing marriage, and how the wife subsequently sticks it to her soon-to-be ex-husband, by using her kidnappers and his girlfriend against him. You will laugh aloud when you read the last line of the book. Then I immediately turned about face and started on a fascinating book by Norman Mailer, 'Harlot's Ghost'. It's about the inner workings of the CIA...in fact, a critic on the back cover referred to it as...."[the War and Peace of the CIA]". Fascinating work of fiction, but due to time conflicts with work, I have only read about half. I will finish it this month.

IV. 5 books that mean a lot to me: Wow, only 5?
1. Charlotte's Web by E.B. Williams - This was my very first favorite book. I read it the first time when I was about 7 years old. I just couldn't get enough of it, and read it over, and over, and over....when the book came to television, I could hardly wait to see it. I still have the original, hard-back copy my mom procured for me.

2. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote - I first read this book for an assignment in the 8th grade. Yeah, the subject matter may seem a little deep for someone so young, but I read ALL THE TIME. Kid books were boring by then, and since I was the last of four kids still living at home, I had many adult conversations with my parents. We talked about things like crime, the justice system, and capital punishment. I will never forget how reading that book made me feel...I could literally imagine the characters in their jail cells, awaiting judgement. This book taught me that I did not want to lead a life of crime. And, oh yeah...I got an A on my book report.

3. The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien - Actually, I include all three books in the series. I read them all at the age of 10, and was fascinated by the imagery. It was my favorite series until I came upon my next author. I was giddy when I heard about the first of the 'Rings' movies coming out on the big screen...I still can watch them all, back to back at one sitting. I did re-read the series a couple of years ago....wonderful tale of fantasy in a parallel universe. Fantastic.

4. Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry - This is one of my all-time favorite books, and the three books that accompany it should be included in that high honor. Streets of Laredo, Comanche Moon, and Dead Man's Walk are all companion books about the life of two Texas Rangers, Capt. Woodrow F. Call and Capt. Augustus McCrae. These are not spaghetti westerns, my friends. These are the tales and trials of the settlement of the American West, with an emphasis on Texas and the growing cattle trade. There is no on who can spin a tale like McMurtry. My dad has read him extensively for years, and recommends that you also read "Space" and "Texas", but authored by McMurtry. His ability to make the reader envision his stories is unparalleled. And his knowledge of the subjects he covers prove that he is no bullshit artist. He knows his stuff. Probably one of the greatest authors of our time.

5. Mr. King, Stephen that is...I cannot simply narrow down to one particular book by the master of macabre. I know, some folks think he is past it, that he has become repetitive, blah-blah-blah. I beg to differ. He, alone, was responsible for my love of the horror genre. I started reading his work in high school, and my long distance love affair continues to this day (move over, G! LOL) I don't read him as often, but about every two years, I must find and read a copy of The Stand. Franny and Stu...what a pair. On the other hand, all his literary offerings are not horror...i.e. Green Mile, Shawshank. There isn't an author today who has his exact perspective, or whom can manage to make his characters seem, well....so HUMAN, while making himself seem super-human. I love you, Mr. King, in the most literal of senses. Other favorites....The Talisman, Delores Claiborne (shudder), and the classic Cujo. Also, I believe you are clinically insane, making me love you and your crazy mind even more. You scare the hell outta me.

And, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the all-time best seller in the entire world...the Bible. Again, words have the power to convey the very meaning of life and existence to we who are of faith. I am thankful that this inspiration was sent to us via the authors of old, the enscribers of the Written Word. For this, I am thankful.

I cannot tag anyone today because my battered mind cannot think that far. Feel free to comment on likes or dislikes.
HAVE A FABULOUS WEEKEND!!!! And go get a good book to read ***wink***.

To be continued....

2005-06-03T12:27:00.000-07:00

Sorry I only posted part of my book blog....running out of time, and I have to work. I'll finish first thing next week, happy weekend to all.

Relay for Life 2005

2005-06-02T06:15:00.000-07:00

Okay everyone...

Tomorrow night, Friday, June 3rd starting at 6 p.m. at Yarborough field in Crossett...

The 2005 Ashley County Relay for Life!

It's the premier fund raiser for the American Cancer Society, and we need your help.

Our goal this year is $50,000!

We need you and your family to attend eat, play, spend $$$, have fun,

and be entertained all night until 6 a.m. Saturday morning.

This all-night fund raiser is held because cancer never sleeps.

Please come out, bring your lawn chairs and a pocket full of money!

You can tune in to Q-Lite 99.5 as we will broadcast the event all night long.

(please bring a bucket of esspresso to me, I'm gonna need it!)

Don't miss the Womanless Beauty Pageant at midnight!

Luminaries can be purchased at Relay for Life until 8 p.m.

PLEASE HELP US STOP THIS DISEASE IN IT'S TRACKS

FOR MORE INFO, CALL ME AT 870.364.4700

2005-05-27T13:07:00.000-07:00

Aaaahhhhhh.....

The Longest Weekend...

2005-05-27T12:49:00.000-07:00

Here's hoping you all have a great, and loooooooong weekend.

And may you be fortunate enough to visit some place like the picture above.

Oh, and don't forget this.

If you are fortunate enough to visit a place like this picture, remember the ones who made it possible for you to come and go as you please, to be anyone you want to be, to live with a precious gift that not all humans enjoy...FREEDOM.

Please don't forget to thank your friends in the military for their service. Because of them, and countless thousands before, we enjoy the priviledge of freedom. Monday is not just another off-day. Memorial Day is set aside to pay homage to the sacrifices laid at the altar of freedom by the brave men and women serving at home and abroad.

GOD BLESS YOU, OUR BRAVE SOLDIERS. THANK YOU ALL...AND PLEASE, GOD BLESS AMERICA!

A nugget a day...

2005-05-26T13:32:00.000-07:00

Aight. The country nuggets keep 'a comin'...this time from someone I consider a gentleman, a wordsmith and a scholar. The following submissions were sent to me via my brother Bob, aka Snick Snoid, aka Big Bro. One thing I would like to point out is the subtle differences between 'country' and 'country ghetto'. Bob is a master of both colloquial languages, and gives excellent examples. However, I think example #3 should be classified as 'country ghetto' since we hear this word across a vast number of ethnicities. It, by the way, is one of my favorite and most used country ghetto words. Dig it...and btw, you can visit my brother's blog by clicking on the blues blaster link. Go check it out.

Submitted by Big Bro...
1. Assed: " I assed him to pick up the bale of hay and tho it on the wagon."
Generally used in the deep south and is meant to be the word "asked"
2. Cut off / on / up: " Hey Bill, cut them lights off when you go to bed." OR
" Hey Bill, cut that radio up a little bit."
Generally used in the rural deep south and is commonly used in the place of "turn off / on / up."
3. Thoed: " He got mad as hell and "thoed" a fit."
Generally used in the rural south and is commonly understood to mean the past tense of the word throw which is "threw". No phonic similarities are noted between these two words which makes this a very interesting usage indeed.

Thanks, Bob, for your succint descriptions. Very easy to comprehend, even for Northerners. LOL
Now, I will add a few more of my favorites. Since we are on a vocabulary theme, then I will stick to that.

1. Fixin' to: "I'm fixin' to go to town."
Considered a verb, fixin' to is used in the place of 'about to' or 'going to'. Nothing is broken, so don't think someone is about to commence repair work.
2. Yonder: "The car is parked over yonder."
I am dogged non-stop about my use of this word. Usually, yonder is used to indicate an undeterminable distance. Generally used in place of 'over there'. Yes, yonder is a real place.
3. Reckon: "I reckon I'd better go." A legitimate word, reckon is often used to refer to reconcilliation. In this case, it refers to speculation. It is often used instead of 'suppose' or 'believe'.

I hope you have enjoyed this week's nuggets. Keep 'em coming, I need more, more, more! LOL

Religious Philosophies of the World

2005-05-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

I came across a scrap of paper in my desk at work, and it contained the following observations. I abolutely love this, because I think a sense of humor should accompany all organized religions. It just helps to make it all more palatable. I have no idea of the author, but whomever she/he may be, they have hit the proverbial nail on the head. And, too, I must post this in honor of GF and her prior post on the ever present and ever funny subject of feces. This is totally tongue-in-cheek, so nobody choose to be offended, m'kay?

Catholicism: If shit happens, I deserve it.

Protestantism: Shit won't happen if I work harder (this applies heavily to all Baptists)

Judaism: Why does this shit always happen to me?

Mormanism: I'll go to hell if I say shit.

Buddhism: When shit happens, is it really shit?

Islam: If shit happens, take a hostage.

Hinduism: This shit happened before.

Hare Krishna: Shit happens, rama lama ding dong.

Rastafarianism: Let's smoke this shit.

--author unknown

Happy Tuesday, y'all! Feel free to add your own observations on comments...

Gimme sum uh them 'Country Nuggets'!

2005-05-23T11:41:00.000-07:00

Howdy! Thanks to J and S who have submitted some goodies! I always love to hear everyone's favorite country sayings, so here goes. And if you want in on the action, email your nuggets to gribblelite@yahoo.com You may see your nuggets 'rite chear'. That means 'right here' for all your Northerners.

Submitted by J....heeheehee
1."a month of Sundays"
In a sentence: I ain't seen you in a month of Sundays.
Translation: A long damn time.

2. "he couldn't pour piss out of a boot"
In a sentence: My ex husband is so stupid, he couldn't pour piss out of a boot.
Translation: (none needed, self explanatory)

Submitted by S...luv the vocabulary words!

"I always thought it was weird that my grandmother and many other old people said the word "Karn" pronounced "Key-yarn" when talking about a dead animal. It wasn't until I became an adult I realized this wholetime she was meaning "carrion"!! I guess someonealong the way had read this word and said it wrong!"

The most country pick up line I've every heard:
"Gal,you are as cute as a speckled pup in a strawberrypatch"
Followed by the not so cute, "I ought ta just clonk you over the head, take you home, and put ya on mah bed. Whatcha think uh that?"

I love how words are mispronounced here in the south:
Each=Itch
ehet=ate
ceasars=seizures
alltimers or oldtimers=alzheimer's

Fabulously funny! And I will add a small spattering of my favorites, after all, we can't teach too much at once or it will not be retained.

1. When someone smiles really big, you might say they are...
"grinnin' like a mule eatin' sawbriars" or
"grinnin' like a 'possum"
or my all time favorite "he's got a grin on his face like a wave on a slop jar".

Note: A slop jar is a receptacle used before indoor plumbing. The jar or "thundermug" was used at night, or when it was too cold/hot to visit the local outhouse. "Honeybucket" is another interchangeable. I admit, I have actually utilized one of these at the home of my great grandmother some 30 or so years ago. It was in the middle of the night, and I had to tinkle. The indoor bathroom with running water was approximately 10 steps away, but she said, "Oh, honey...just use Ma's pot and I'll throw it out in the morning." Man, was that thing coooooold. LOL

Keep the country comments coming...hope y'all are having a great Monday! Yuck.

No end in sight...

2005-05-20T13:08:00.000-07:00

Sorry, but due to my almost unbearable schedule, I will not be posting any country nuggets today. It will have to wait until next week, when hopefully, I will have clawed my way from under the train wreck that my life has become. I want to disappear.
I sincerely hope everyone out there will have the most restful and satisfying weekend of their lives.

Woooo-doggies!

2005-05-19T13:32:00.000-07:00

Thanks J, for your submission in the "Southern Nuggets" contest. They are excellent, and will be revealed for all to see tomorrow. I will post a couple of my own faves just to make it more interesting, too.
Today is a mixed bag...Friday-eve, shower this weekend for JMG (fun,fun,fun!), maybe even some time for rest? Oh, wouldn't that be delicious. All I want to do is sit in the sun for a couple of hours on Sunday. That's not asking too much, now is it?
And I can finally speak of the most wonderful news I've heard in a while! I'M GONNA BE A GREAT AUNTIE! That's right...CBSD and hubby are using one home-preg test after another in disbelief. I would be doing the same thing if it were me, though....and IT'S NOT ME!
That brings me to the next subject in the bag today. Apparently, all the rage around the county is that I, somehow, (osmosis maybe?) got married while I was in Mexico. ROTFLMAO! I'm not mad about it, but it is positively stunning how these rumors come about. So, without reservation, let me set the record straight.
1. I am not married, to anyone.
2. I am not pregnant, nor have I ever been.
3. There are no plans in my immediate future to get married or to get pregnant.
There! Straight from the mouth of the horse. Am I married? Neigh. (get it?)
Too funny...still looking for those 'nuggets' from you country folks. Send 'em on, otherwise the contest will be BORING.

Good-bye, Citrus...

2005-05-17T13:00:00.000-07:00

Today, as I was cruising along on my daily blogland tour, I anxiously awaited the page to load and reveal to me the mysteries and vividly tart tales of one now-beloved-to-me blogger named, aptly, Citrus. I have come to love Citrus' daily offerings, like I love my first cup of java in the morning. But today, as I noticed the hue of the screen loading, that something was different. The original, bright yellow happiness that greeted me was adorned with a blackened, bleak font composing a final 'turrah' from dear Citrus.

Oh...I am so sorry that you had to go, and I will sorely miss your postings. Whenever I needed a clever anecdote, or an original thought to stimulate my senses, I could always count on Citrus.

I have come to anticipate what your latest pic would be, featuring, of course, the deliciousness that is everything lemon.
Your gentle aggression toward the ugliness that surrounds us all was inspiring, and touching. And your wicked sense of humor was unmatched.

Thank you for gracing my blog with your always kind and always uplifting comments...God bless you for saying no to negativity! And if you can find it in your heart to give me some way to say goodbye, please allow me that. I am the sole of descretion, and only want to wish you and H well. I certainly hope you will see this post, dedicated to you, and all your "proletarian pithiness"...you are nothing less than an original, my dear. Here's my mail gribblelite@yahoo.com.

p.s. Your lemony influence has rubbed off on me...I am throwing a wedding shower this weekend, and, of all things, citris fruit will be one of my delectable influences. I will post pics later for all to see.

Godspeed, and Goodbye...

Southern Nuggets

2005-05-16T13:24:00.000-07:00

I had a marvelous epiphany today! In order to create more understanding between the great diversity of cultures here on the web, I have decided to have a contest.
(I must be out of my mind since I have no spare time to start with, LOL)

Please submit your favorite southern or country saying to me at gribblelite@yahoo.com
I will review what I receive each week, and post a weekly "winner" in the "Southern Nuggets" contest. Please submit as many as you like, because I will eventually compile all of my gleaned knowledge into a collection and post the whole dang thang. You can include stories, jokes, anecdotes, whatever is country and worth repeating. I'll be looking forward to your submissions...thanks y'all! I will include some of my faves as well...I have some goodies, LOL.

Random thoughts on a Monday...

2005-05-16T11:20:00.000-07:00

I feel like my vacation happened a year ago.

Can't wait for Jeanne's shower this weekend, it will be fun.

I want to get organized, I mean really organized.

Thinking about work is so overwhelming today.

I haven't eaten lunch yet, no wonder I'm hungry.

Where the hell did I put my keys?????????????

I don't have much of a sense of humor today, grrrr.

Would someone please stop the clock for me, just for a few minutes?

I miss getting to spend time doing nothing.

If stress were measured on a scale from 1 to 10, I'd score 100, at least.

Looking forward to seeing my brother soon...a jam session would do me good.

I just want a small, teeny-tiny break in the chaos.

Food Drive Tomorrow!

2005-05-13T07:18:00.000-07:00

Okay everyone...I am gonna do my civic duty, and remind you about the annual National Association of Letter Carriers food drive coming up TOMORROW. It's simple...put some canned food out by your mailbox tomorrow morning, and your mail carrier will pick it up and deliver it to the Crossett Area Food Bank if you are in our area. The food collected here will STAY HERE. BTW, this is a nationwide drive, so give where ever you are.
I have been involved with the food bank in Crossett for about a year, and the need is REAL. The executive director has told me stories that would make you weep...like the 80 something-year-old grandmother raising her GREAT grandkids who couldn't buy food after she paid all her medical bills...or the young mother with 5 kids to feed, and dad is no where to be found. Just listen to these stats...

* Last year, the Crossett Area Food Bank served over 500 families...I said 500 FAMILIES, NOT INDIVIDUALS.
* The NALC food drive alone collected over 3100 pounds of food last year, and ALL of it was needed.
* Many of the hungry in our community are CHILDREN

Whether we want to talk about it or not, we have hungry people right here in Ashley County...and the need is year-round, NOT JUST DURING THE HOLIDAYS. Summertime can be particularly bad because energy costs can go up during hot months. So do a simple thing...go through your pantry, and donate some food. Here are some tips on what to give

Items not accepted:
*Home-canned foods
*No packets, please i.e ketchup, syrup, dressing
*Nothing in glass containers

Items that are needed:
*Canned meats, like tuna, spam, chili, stew
*Canned tomato sauces
*Pasta
*Hamburger Helper
*Boxed mac and cheese
*Canned soups of every kind

THE FOOD BANK LOVES POP-TOP FOOD!...SADLY, IT'S BECAUSE YOUNG CHILDREN CAN OPEN THE CANS THEMSELVES...OFTEN, THERE ARE NO ADULTS TO PREPARE THE FOOD FOR THEM.

Thanks to everyone who donates, because who knows? You or I may need assistance one day. The food bank is located inside the presbyterian church on Pine street in Crossett. Please help them, they do a great service.
Thanks, y'all!

10 Things for Which I am Thankful

2005-05-12T12:29:00.000-07:00

It has been a tough week, for many, many reasons. So instead of a whine-fest (not to be confused with a wine-fest), I will post 10 things/people for which/whom I am truly grateful. In no particular order:
1. I am thankful for - My parents. They are the best, bar none, hands down. So don't argue. Two words? Consistent love.

2. I am thankful for - My health. I want to get old, but I 'm gonna keep it clean, keep it real. And I will do what I have to do to stay healthy...even if it means I can't have cathead biscuits every day. *sigh*

3. I am thankful for - My home place. I love my house, but I'm talking about the 40 acres where I spent my childhood. There is no place like Milo, anywhere. I know this because I've been around the world and back. I've seen ancient cities, white beaches, towering mountains...and nothing compares to the wind through the pine trees, the sun setting over the pond, the far-away call of the whipporwill, the sound of dad cranking the old massey ferguson. I can walk those woods with my eyes closed, and tell you of the times me and my mother picnicked by a certain tree. There's really no place like home.

4. I am thankful for - My family. Best and craziest on the planet...also, most hospitable and forgiving. I love y'all.

5. I am thankful for - My friends. I have a few very good ones, and for each of you I wouldn't take all the riches in the world...because YOUR friendship is more valuable.

6. I am thankful for - Freedom. I am, the number one, bona-fide, biggest fan and patriot of this great United States. Yeah, we ARE great. And I won't tolerate ANYONE belittling or insulting this great nation or the flag which represents her. Too many people have died on the field of battle to ensure that I have the PRIVILEGE, not THE RIGHT, to live here. Being an American is a privilege, and I'm proud to be one. Too many people confuse rights and privileges.

7. I am thankful for - The Creator. He made a way for me to look beyond this life I live now, through his Son. And His Holy Spirit ministers to me daily. I am thankful for having the faith to believe in the unseen, and to enjoy the confidence of being something greater when this life is though. It's really exciting to think about!

8. I am thankful for - My job. I have met so many awesome people through my job, and it enriches my life immensely. I am fortunate to have an occupation like this.

9. I am thankful for - Second chances. I have messed up in my life so many times it's embarrassing. I have made bad personal choices, extended my heart to the wrong people, invested time and energy in dead-end situations, acted careless when I should have been diligent...blah, blah, blah. But, thankfully, we all get a do-over. *whew*

10. And finally, I am thankful for - Music. What a gift! Music transcends all ages, nationalities, and creeds. Everywhere you go, you can find music...whether it includes voices, instruments or both. Music is not only, worldwide, it's universal. One day, I'm gonna sing "a new song". I can't wait.

Hope you enjoyed my list. Holla!

Letter to Momma

2005-05-09T10:09:00.000-07:00

Can anyone tell me if I will ever stop missing my mother? This July 8th will be three years since she left this earth for a better place, and I swear by all things holy that I miss her worse today than then. So much so, that I couldn't bring myself to spend time with any of my family yesterday for 'Mother's Day'. I could neither bear the thought of seeing anyone that reminds me of her, nor could I visit her grave. I honestly can't tell if what I'm feeling resembles sadness, or if it' some odd mix of anger/resentment because her time was, in my opinion, too soon. She was 64. Today, I feel 64.
Oh, God, how I wish she were here! That is the most selfish thing in the world for me to say, but I want my momma. In my heart, I'm 8 years old, having a bad day, and I've fallen and skinned my knee...and no one but my mother will do. She was the most benevolent, kind and loving person I ever have known. The shame of it is that I didn't know this until after I was grown. I didn't give her the full measure of respect she deserved until I was in my twenties, but I know she knew how much I loved her.
She was so gifted with so much knowledge, and she shared it freely. I never, ever doubted that my mother would continue love me no matter how badly I disappointed her, or when I just plain messed up. There is nothing on earth, and possibly in heaven, to compare to a mother's love. And now, I don't enjoy that love any more. So, for the sake of my sanity, I will write my mother a letter. I'll pretend she is on some glorious trip, and just gone for a while.

My dearest momma,
Hey there, long time since we last visited, so I just wanted to catch up with you. I have been busy, as usual, with work. If I had my choice, I would come get you, and we would sit on buckets and fish in the pond like we have done so many times. Remember when I dropped my cell phone in the water? LOL...thank goodness you had that dip net.
Your flowers are blooming all over the yard. Irises everywhere, even the ones at the corner of the old chicken yard. And roses! Your rose bushes are coming on like a new rooster in a hen house. Haven't checked the ones that came from Mrs. Lonia May's, but I bet they'll bloom soon. Daddy burned up most all of his tomatoes...he did a "Neal" and got overzealous with the fertilizer...heehee. But the ones in the the raised "tire" beds are looking good. I think he has staked them already. Maybe a few pepper plants will survive the lethal dose of triple 13.
Mom, I'm so tired, and there's no end in sight. How did you manage to keep a household intact, care for your husband, and raise 4 kids? I am in awe of you...at my age, you were a mom 4 times over with a 3 year old in the mix! If you know of any elixer or remedy besides Geritol that will help, please let me know.
Momma, I miss you. I feel like you have been gone forever, even though it has been just a short while. I sure do miss your phone calls and visits on the three wheeler. I miss our early morning coffee and breakfasts on Saturdays...I miss your homemade biscuits. I still eat my biscuits with coffee in a cup, just like you did...there's no taste that reminds me of you more. I miss your hugs and kisses...I miss the way you smell. I miss how you could make all my bad thoughts go away with just one kind word and a smile. I want you to know how much I needed you in my life, and still do. I want you to know how much living without you has made me appreciate you, and just how much your unwavering devotion has come to mean to me. I just needed to say these things to you, because you deserve to hear them, and I need to say them.
Momma, I love you. I will continue to miss you every day, sometimes every moment. I want to thank you for giving me a chance to become a person of faith, for it is my faith that enables me to go on without you. I have the assurance that we will ,indeed, meet again one day, and I am thankful. I wish you were here so we could talk face to face...there are so many things I want to tell you, to ask you about. But I will have to wait.
Thank you, mother, for being a bastion of consistent love...for showing me that nothing could ever separate me from you. Thank you for having faith in me when no one else did. Thank you for everything. As I continue to live each day without you, I will endeavor to be the daughter you deserve.
I love you,
Pollyanna
p.s. are there biscuits in heaven? just wondering...

2005-05-04T09:21:00.000-07:00

On the beach at Playa Mia...the water was perfect....ahhhh, I should have defected.

Oooohhhh, Mexico.....

2005-05-04T09:07:00.000-07:00

James Taylor wrote that song. I know just how he feels, because I just returned from there. Rustic, humid, exotic, captivating...it was all those things. But no sooner had I reached the friendly confines of my home county, the magic disappeared, just like a wisp of smoke.
Vacations are great, blessed things. If only there were some way to bottle the effects they render, to recapture some of the wonder and excitement of travelling to a new place. But, sadly, this isn't possible. You can look at the pictures, you can watch videos, but nothing can reproduce the euphoria of travel.
I used to travel alot more, and I miss it. I miss the stimulation and excitement of going somewhere new for the first time, of meeting new people. It's like letting my mind 'stretch it's legs', so to speak. I will just have to be diligent, and not let my mind get weighed down with worry and concern. I will find a way to be on permanent vacation. Then I will sell the idea and get ridiculously wealthy. Hahahaha!

2005-05-03T07:44:00.000-07:00

Here's an evening shot of the beach in Costa Maya....I could watch those waves forever...ahhhhhh.

2005-05-03T07:40:00.000-07:00

Before....and now after! This was taken at during the Captain's formal night. Quite a difference when you compare what we looked like 2 years ago (check archives). We had a great, relaxing time...and NO! I didn't want to come home ****sigh****

The Mirror

2005-04-19T13:33:00.001-07:00

I once had a mirror
I never looked into it
I would rush past it
As if I were afraid of my own reflection.

Then one day I paused
And caught a glimpse
Of this creature looking back
I marvelled at my own fear and loathing.

Now the mirror
lies inside my heart
A reflection ever shining
On the peace that lies within my battered soul.

--P.B.

The countdown...

2005-04-18T06:17:00.000-07:00

It's Monday, and possibly one of the longest work weeks in history is about to follow. Why? Because I am going on vacation Friday, therefore each day this week will seem like a friggin' eternity! Me and my friend B are going on our second cruise. We went 2 years ago, and vowed that we would go again at the ripe age of 40. Well, we decided that was too long to wait. And I'm glad, because I need to get outta town...outta country...outta here. I don't think I have ever needed a vacation more...I have lots of stuff on my mind, and need this time to sort it out...stuff I have been shelving until this trip. Stuff like long-term goals, priorities, relationships. I need a clear head to think this stuff through.
I spent my entire weekend cleaning my house and my car...I guess you could attribute this to "spring fever", or the need to make things like new. As busy and stressed as I have been lately, it seems like I would have found something relaxing to do for my only 2 off days. But not me. I do my best work when I'm stressed or under pressure...just ask my friend, B! *wink*
So here's the question for the day...how do you function under pressure? Whether it's work, play, home...when extreme pressure is applied, do you freak out, run away, or become alarmingly calm? Just curious...

2005-04-14T13:08:00.000-07:00

Summer is on it's way...so soon, we will all feel like this. This photo was forwarded to me, so I can't give the photographer credit...but it conveys so much without saying a word. WHEW! Happy Southeast AR summer.

Stop the presses...

2005-04-11T13:26:00.000-07:00

Good afternoon, everyone...
I know none of you will believe it, but I have accidentally discovered a means to make myself speechless, or at least unable to speak in sentences.

Do you want to know how this was accomplished?

Really simply...

Zyrtec.

One little pill, and I'm bobbin' and weavin' like Sugar Ray...I'm slurring like Ali (No dis, I love Ali.) Honestly, I do feel punch-drunk. And my friggin' eyelids weigh at least a stone each. (refer to Brit dictionary). So...after work? I'm gonna take a nap so I will be able to lay down and sleep tonight. Doesn't make any sense does it?

WTF? Do I hear buzzing??? Ohhhhhh....it's my headddddzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Tomorrow...I'll try again tomorrow...

The Burt Factor

2005-04-08T07:26:00.000-07:00

It's is important to recognize and acknowledge the people who, in their own unique way, enrich our lives by sharing knowledge, gifts and talents. I cannot deny that I am my father's daughter, to the letter. The older I get, the more I become like him. I just hope my hairstyle doesn't follow suit.....heeheehee. (he's bald) But my dad is the best and most unique dad ever. In the past several years, I have come to think of my dad more as a friend, and he has become a welcomed addition to my very short and distinquished list.
One of the earliest memories I have of daddy is his Gibson flat top. That's an acoustic guitar for those who are wondering. He has played longer than I have been alive, and no one plays like him. I can remember many nights, sitting on the couch with mom, TV off, listening to dad strum that beautiful old guitar. He could make it sing...and he would sing, too. Dad, despite his sometimes gruff appearance, has a beautiful, clear, soft singing voice. We would sit for hours and enjoy his renditions of Marty Robbins songs and many others. We, as kids, were so blessed to have musical parents. Mom could play the keys off a piano, and we learned to sing standing around that old green upright. But there was something different about that guitar...the sound my dad evoked from it has never been duplicated by anyone else to this day. I have heard others play it, including my virtuoso brother Bob, my dad's namesake.
But it never sounds so sweet as when RCB commands it's six simple strings...thank you daddy, for your gift of music. It is a unique priviledge to be associated with such gifted family, and I will never take it for granted. Thank you, too, for your words of wisdom and encouragement...because of you, I'm gonna 'keep on pullin'.
The pictures below are of a recent pickin' we had at dads. It is a regular occurance when BB comes home. I'm ready for another jam, so BB come home soon!

2005-04-08T07:20:00.000-07:00

Two of my fave folks here...my brother, the incredibly talented beyond belief BB, and on the right, the bass man himself, Mr. Morgan. These guys can jam...for real.

2005-04-08T07:16:00.000-07:00

Every time my brother BB comes home for a visit, we get together and jam...I LOVE IT. Here is part of the crew from l to r...my Uncle, me, my dad and Mayhew. Rock and roll!!!!

2005-04-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

A friend sent this to me today...the family that found the fawn introduced her to their family pet, and he adopted her...it reminded me of a baby deer we raised when I was a child. She was abandoned by her mother, so we adopted her and named her Faline after the female deer in Bambi. She was so sweet...she stayed inside for the first few months and we bottle fed her. She slept under my mom's and sister's sewing machines because it had four "legs" and she thought it was her mother! She also pee'd under the sewing machines. I will never forget the way she smelled...sweet, like the milk she drank. When she was old enough, she lived in my mom's chicken yard. She was my best friend and we played everyday...I was about 7 years old when she lived with us. I remember we would play hide-and-seek. There was tall cypress grass in the chicken yard, and I would run away from her and hide. But her excellent sense of smell would always lead her right to me. She would prance around and act so proud when she found me...I miss her.

Blah-blah-blah...

2005-04-05T13:31:00.000-07:00

I have been busier this week at work than I have been since the holidays...whatupwidat? No complaints here, I need the $$$! So if I have neglected you as a friend or family member, I apologize. ****sheepish grin*****
Here are a few things I would rather do than work...i.e. things I would do should I ever get to "retire". LMAO...retire, that's a hoot.
1. Go fishing. I love to fish almost as much as I love to eat, or talk, or breathe.
2. Paint a landscape. I used my creativity more when I wasn't so busy, and I miss it. Something about getting something out of your head and onto canvas.
3. Travel. I miss, miss, miss travelling to new places. Early in my life, I saw a lot of things...England, France (Paris does suck!), Germany, Luxembourg, Belgium....ahhhhh the chocolate in Brugge, Belgium is better than sex, I SWEAR IT.
4. Visit my friends and family. Gone are the days when folks would just stop by to catch up and have a cup of coffee, while listening to the slamming of the screen door as kids go in and out, playing in the yard.
5. Sing. I grew up singing around my mom's piano, at church...then at weddings, funerals, etc. Then I had the priviledge to sing with my brother's blues band. IT WAS THE MOST AWESOME THING I'VE EVER BEEN A PART OF . Now I'm ruined...I want to be a rock star. I'm not joking.
Just some tedious, and useless facts about me. Now you know what I mean when I say, "I'd rather be....."

2005-04-04T14:51:00.000-07:00

19 days.....19 days.....19 days.....