Just Keep Swimming

Under the Whether or Not?

I can't decide whether or not I am sick. On one hand my eyeballs feel like they are rolling around in a sandbox, on the other they can still see the world around me. On one hand my nose feels like a leaky faucet, on the other I can still breathe through it. I have felt better, but I have definitely felt much much worse. It is hard to give in to the sniffles because, while they certainly tend to wear down our bodies, they don't completely debilitate us. We all know that there are far worse illnesses from which to suffer. There is just something about the common cold; although we can still get up and go to work, we'd really like to stay in bed and drop tissues over the side of our bed while commandeering the remote. But, having a cold is really not being sick enough. We always feel like we have to be really sick to justify staying home from work. Whether or not we feel like it a cold is something that reminds us that we are fortunate that we aren't that sick and that we should be grateful for our otherwise healthy daily existence.

The Two Hour Delay That Made My Day

I felt human this morning! School was delayed for two hours so the kids and I were able to wake up with the sun and mull around the house with the Today Show on in the background. I actually cooked us breakfast (okay... it was cinnamon rolls...but it involved the oven)! We were able to take our time and we even managed to get to school/work early. It was simply glorious!

After I got to work it seemed the everybody else's morning was just as wonderful. Everyone commented on how nice it was to have that little bit of extra time in the morning. The atmosphere was a pleasant one. I just can't imagine if every day started off like this one did.

All day long people wore a smile...coughs and sneezes be darned. Yes, the side effects of hot and cold days, and windy and drizzly days, combined with over 700 noses...all crammed inside one building day after day...well...let's just say a big "Thank You" to the tissue companies of the world...and let's give an even bigger Shout Out to the antibacterial soap manufacturers of the world while we're at it!!!

I guess what I am getting at is this: despite a day spent with watery eyes, itchy eyes, burning eyes, and tired eyes; despite a day spent clutching wads of damp tissues and applying Zovirax to a fever blister; despite a day where Vaseline lived in a smeared smudge between the bottom of my nose and the top of my lip...I was happy. I was happy because I had a little bit of a morning to call my own...enough time before work to actually make my bed...and when I return home late tonight the sight of my made up bed will complete the circle of my day. Just thinking about it makes me happy all over again.

Cold Issues

The wind is picking up outside
The temperatures are dropping
My eyes keep right on watering
My runny nose ain't stopping

It seems as though I've caught a cold
And my eyes are rimmed in red
They are itching I am sneezing
Raw skin I'm starting to dread

So after work I picked up
Three boxes more of tissues
For when the cedar pollen bursts
Allergies are everyone's issues

Stepping Up

When we are little everything is out of reach. But, somehow, we manage to find a way to get what we are after. Sometimes we just want a peek; to see what the grown ups see. When we are on the other side of those tippy toes we realize that the good stuff really is getting to lick the icing off of the cake topper. Sure, we've been told "No" even as adults, but we still sometimes just want a little peek; not so much to see it all, but to be included in the seeing aspect of it. It boils down to wanting to be a part of all that is going on around us. Sometimes the viewing is simple: we just need to open our eyes and enjoy. Other times the sight before us can be blinding and not really what we wanted to see at all. Mostly though, I have found that if I want to catch a glimpse of something that is important to me I have to step up and even step over all of the things that stand in my way.

Just the other night, while having a conversation with God, I had what I can honestly call a vision (I'd call it a dream but I wasn't asleep). I had asked God to show me how to deal with a certain situation in my life. The image that played out in my mind went something like this: I was walking through a black-walled canyon. The walls were craggy and steep and the pathway was narrow and crumbly. With each step that I took large chunks of black rock separated from and slid down the canyon walls. There were times the rock pile before me was taller than I was, but I still walked forward. I was never crushed by the boulders...I simply climbed over them (and every time I got to the top of a pile I noticed that the rock was flat--perfect for standing on and observing from). I took away the message that I should not let anything stand in my way of going where I want to go. There will be times when the going won't be so smooth-but hey, that's life. When I was finished praying I felt stronger...taller...as if I were on my tippy toes...getting a little peek at the Good Life.

Wet Whiskers

Pets are such neat creatures...the way they elevate our self esteem without

even knowing they are doing so. They crave our attention and when we give it they lick us to pieces. We smile and try to wriggle free from their wet tongues but we still enjoy the fact that we are loved by our furry friends; and then we catch them drinking from our toilet.

SitCalms

There is something comforting about living in the year 2009 and still hearing the voices of the Tanner Family (a.k.a. the Full House Sitcom). It seems that show is always on in our house and it seems that whenever it is we all congregate on the couch. I can actually recall watching it when I was younger and being fully aware that their family dynamics were different. The kids' mother had passed away and that left Danny to raise his girls "alone"... along with Joey, Uncle Jesse, and Rebecca. We have come a long way from what was once considered a traditional living arrangement these days but as I watch the show now all I see is the loving unit that makes up that extended family.

The show focuses on learning lessons and on the feelings we all feel...especially as children, and on the relationships we build with people we care about. I wish there were more shows like this one on t.v. Whenever it is on I never have to be ready to produce a timely cough or sneeze to distract from a cuss word as is so often the case with "family" shows of today. But, herein lies the rub; the "family" shows of today are a direct reflection of many of today's families. I find it unsettling that so many kids are exposed to raunchy language and loose boundaries on a daily basis. Just last night, while at a grocery store check-out, I overheard one of the checkers behind me conversing with another checker. The first word out of his mouth was an expletive. I don't mean to come across as all proper and such because, believe me, I fell off that wagon long ago, but even still it jolts me-every time. Or could it just be that I am, gasp, getting older?

We Can Work It Out

What is happening to me?! I know that I am suppose to orchestrate "family dinners" and that it is crucial that we sit down together at the same table to eat dinner, etc., etc.,... it's just that I'm not real keen on preparing an actual meal. Quite frankly, after a full day of work, and after being a referee for a half-hour commute, my appetite is not at the forefront of my mind. I know that my kids are starving after a day at school but I just can't bring myself to "whip something up" the moment I walk through the door.

Take today, for example: I pulled into our carport reminding the kids that I expected them to take everything that belonged to them out of the car. This started a vicious and never-ending feud between my daughter and myself that resulted in me losing my temper and ultimately sequestering myself in my bathroom with nothing but a glass or merlot and a novel to keep me company (talk about a briar patch!). I eventually came out, but only because I heard my husband's truck pull up in front of our house. He wanted me to join him in a cardio workout and so I did. (Have you ever tried to do a cardio workout after a glass or two of red wine? Let me tell you is it a heck of a lot more enjoyable than when you are serious about burning the fat!). By the time the cool down finally came I had the "warrior one" yoga pose mastered! It's interesting that, while I did not break a sweat or breathe heavily, I do have the b.o. to attest to the fact that I did, in fact, work out today. (I'll sweat later tonight when those hot flashes kick in!)

I know, I know...too much information...well, get used to it. For those of you who know me well-you know that my life is an open book. Things that others would be too embarrassed to admit I gush forth freely. I just feel that life is real and that we are all human and we all experience relatively the same things...like it or not. And that is why I can honestly tell you that, as I type this, only my daughter is left eating her dinner alone at the bar. My son is already finished eating and is in his room. My husband is on the couch and I am upstairs in my loft writing away. We are all under the same roof. We are all visible from every angle. But are we really connected? It is my hope that this weekend will bless us with time and attention. I want us to be able to play a new game together (thank you, LaRue) so we can share and laugh and enjoy. I hope we can relax and slow down as we celebrate the birthday of our nephew and cousin. I hope we can catch up and love...and maybe, just maybe, we can share a meal together at the same table.

The Heart of the Home

I am typing this from my parents' house. The kids and I come here every Wednesday as a place to hang out while my son attends his weekly confirmation classes. Since this is not the house I grew up in it has more of a hotel feel to me. It is so clean and neat that, while I enjoy it, I also loathe it for the inadequacy it heaps upon me!! I know, I know...there is a chance my house will look and feel like this too...when my kids are grown and I'm 60 years old (notice I said there's a chance... I know myself too well to think that will really happen!).

When I am here the atmosphere is a relaxed one. When I am here the food is better. When I am here the pressure is off. When I am here I am me and I am loved. When I am here I am reminded of the saying "Home is where the heart is."

My childhood home was filled with laughter and love. Everyone in my family simply got along. I realize now how fortunate I am to have that kind of background, that memory, to carry with me into my own home.

Home is so important to me. There is nowhere else I would rather be than in my house. While I miss all that went on in the home of my youth I can't say that I miss the house itself all that much. It was not very hospitable. Even though it did not have central air or heat; nor did it have any insulation...it surrounded me with unconditional love. I was protected from all of life's elements while living there. I learned many great lessons living in that house...lessons that resurface daily. I am so thankful for what I have now and for what my parents have as well. Our respective homes are dreams come true. We have real closets and a thermostat. But it is not those things which make a house a home. It is the people who inhabit it. It is the camaraderie among family members. It is the moments spent growing up under the same roof. While there is certainly no place like home...home is definitely where the heart is.

Pomp Up the Jam

Today I, like so many others, watched the inauguration of our 44th president, Barack H. Obama. Even though I was at work I was able to get a live feed from the Fox Network and was grateful to be able to witness history in the making. I have always been fascinated with pomp and circumstance and today was no exception. I love all things top secret. The only trouble is I am not on the "need to know" list. There is a part of me that wants to be the "important" one...the one that is protected. There is another part of me that wants to do the protecting. I want to be privy to all of the inner workings of the behind the scenes action. But I am not a high society person. I have never felt comfortable having to watch my p's & q's. I mean, I mind my manners and try to be a good girl, but I don't need the stress of having to worry about which fork to use or when to curtsy. Sure, I'd love to wear a designer dress now and then, and a limo ride to town would be nice, but in the end, I think that I am happy with the hand that I have been dealt. Politics don't suit me and I am quite content being my own driver. At work I eat with a spork and the only time I bow is when I have to pick up something off the floor. I exercised my right and voted and I am glad that I did. I respect and support our new president and look forward to watching him lead our country. While I may not have to walk through tunnels escorted by men in suits with coiled wires in their ears I am privy to some highly confidential information...but, unfortunatley you are not on the "need to know" list! Sorry...'cause it's some goooood stuff!

Night Light

I have a little angel
She's plugged into the wall
I turn her on at night
To ensure I do not fall
While walking through the house
After everyone's asleep
I'm comforted by her presence
While down the hall I creep
She lets me know I'm not alone
That everything's alright
I won't stumble I won't fall
While she's shining bright
But just the other morning
When I came out of my room
I noticed the lack of light
I was filled with impending doom
When I reached the outlet
My angel was not there
I found her later on
Lying in a chair
It seems that the light of my angel
Was just a tad too bright
And so my angel of a son
Removed my little light

And so the battle wages on

We silently stand our ground

I plug her in and turn her on

He lays her on the ground

I understand he needs the dark

To help him fall asleep

But I also know that in the night

Our guardians we must keep

Pressure Keeper

If I could check my blood pressure I know that it would be high right now...dangerously so. I can feel my heart beat pressing against my rib cage. My chest is tight and a burning sensation is spreading its way through my torso. Before you rush to make a 911 call let me assure you I am not having a heart attack. I am merely having a reaction to a preteen. I don't know what it is with children...the innocent little beings us mothers birth. We care for them; we love them; we nourish them; we want them; we delight in every little thing they do...and all of this before they are even born! And then-WHAMO! They get in your face and talk back to you and roll their eyes at you. WHY?! Why do they do this?! Why can't they just pleasantly exist...doing all that they are asked to do? I know I always did. And maybe that is the real problem here...I was just too good of a kid. Honestly I never felt that I needed to buck the system. I am still that way today. Could it be so simple as to say that she and I are wired differently? There are times when I am secretly glad that she is so strong willed and tough. I know it will benefit her in many ways as she gets older. I just wish she would understand that I am on her side...really.

Just Add Fire

I have concrete flooring inside a house made out of stone. This combo makes for some chilly down time in the winter. This mixture also prompts us to make roaring fires...which I thoroughly love. There is something enticing about having fire in your house. I have always loved the flicker of light set off by candles and I burn numerous candles as often as I can...mainly so that I can see the dancing amber shadows illuminated throughout my house. It gives me the sense that there is something "alive" and that I have company. When a fire is burning you get the cracks and pops that go along with it...more hints that something "alive" is in the house with you. All of us gravitate toward its heat, sitting on the hearth as we eat a snack or watch a show. There are marshmallows to burn and papers to ignite; there are logs to add and ashes to shovel. All of these things tend to happen without thought. While a fire must be maintained it is not like washing the dishes...you seem to get more out of it. I am grateful that there are always large stacks of cut wood that mysteriously appear at my back door. I never have to wield a chain saw. In a pinch I have been seen gathering kindling in flannel pjs stuffed into cowboy boots, but other than that I have a husband and a son who gladly do the gathering.

Dedicated to the Ones I Love

I had a good day although I started getting, what I like to call, "church pew sleepy," right after lunch. It is very difficult to do one's job while nodding off...but...I manage to pull it off on a somewhat regular basis. Of course, it's not hard to stay awake when you experience moments that take your breath away. I had two incredible moments that made my day: a 1st grade class came to the library asking if they could read to me instead. They were so excited because they had just completed their first book, a collaborative effort, called, The Mystery of the Missing And. I took my seat on the story rug with all of the other kids while one student sat in my chair to read the story. Before she began all of the kids insisted that I read the dedication page. The book was dedicated to ME!! I mean, it just doesn't get much better than this! Do I not have the best job in the world?! What a thrill it was for me to get to witness first hand the pride and ownership these 1st graders felt as "their" page was read and displayed. To hear them sounding out words and reading fluently is such a reward. It's moments like these, when kids are entralled with all things relating to books and words and stories that make me love what I do...it's pretty great to be able to work in such an environment.

Earlier that morning our life skills students asked me if they could perform a reader's theater for me. Imagine my joy at being able to watch and listen as these amazing students read, shared, and helped one another. I was floored by their accomplishments. I was in awe of their teacher.

Sure, there are days when I would much rather stay at home, but that is only because I love being home...not because I dislike being at work. I count myself blessed to work around kids. I feel so fortunate that I am able to watch kids grow, learn, and mature from the time they start kindergarten until the time the go on the seventh grade...and even later in life. I will never tire of enjoying a good book. I will never stop trying to turn kids on to reading. There is something magical that happens when a child learns to read and then gets lost in a book.

Today I witnessed two separate yet similar situations where kids were so incredibly happy...all because they read out loud.

Big Red Float

I had done so well

My reasoning valid

I gave up tacos

For a plain old salad

The ruffage was needed

My body would thank me

I was well on my way

To feeling so skinny

I swallowed my water

Eight glasses my quota

No more carbonation

No more evil soda

And then came my dad

Bounding into the kitchen

And wait 'till you hear

Just what he did mention
"How would y'all like

A Big Red Float?!"

I could instantly feel

The onslaught of bloat

But this was no time

To dismiss his request

For that would be rude

And I was their guest

While sipping my drink

As if I were three

I wished my parents

A Happy 42nd Anniversary!

Love

I've been thinking a lot about love. As a young girl I was very in love with the idea of being in love. When I was first in love I was very aware of what I was experiencing...I was always hovering over myself so as to be able to take it all in...store it up...and save it just in case I ever forgot what it felt like. When I had my first child those "in love" feelings came flooding back to me and, like before, I was aware of what I was feeling because I did not ever want to forget it.

To love somebody...unconditionally...it just feels so right. I appreciate all who love me-in their own way-and I love them for it. Some have shown love by scratching my back for what felt like hours, while others have shown love by hugging me tight. Some have loved by listening while I blab, while others have shown love by crying alongside me. I have family and I have friends...and I am so grateful for all of them.

No Food For Thought

As someone relatively new to the world of diet & exercise I have to say it sucks. That's right...I used one of my all time most hated words...in print! I have enjoyed a blessed stint as the beneficiary of a high metabolism but, as they say, all good things must come to an end. That is why I have tried to start the year off right. I have made a gallant effort to drink more water, eat salad for lunch, and, dare I say it, exercise. The hard part has been putting a muzzle on my hunger. I am always hungry and I want nothing but junk. A York Peppermint Patty seems to do what a leaf of lettuce can't. After I do get a cardio workout in I am only thirsty for a cold beer...with a twist of lime (does that count as a fruit?...a vegetable?...) After my third workout my right hip is screaming, "GIVE ME GLOCOSAMINE CHONDROITIN!! NOW!!

To help with the pain I am on my second glass of red wine...grapes are a fruit, right?

A Permanent Solution

We all remember our first perm...the anticipation and excitement of looking exactly like "that girl" we see at school mixed in with a little nerves---fear of walking out of the salon looking like a clown instead. But, we stick it out and allow our heads to be tortured in the name of beauty.

A couple of days ago my daughter got her first perm. She is in the middle of her 6th grade year and, like her, I got my first perm in the 6th grade too. Of course, my hair had just grown out from a Dorothy Hamill cut--but not by much because I walked out of the salon on the clown end of the spectrum. Needless to say I kept perming my hair until the middle of high school. At least my daughter's hair is all one length and falls just below her shoulders.

As she sat in the chair, as giddy as ever, it all came flooding back to me: my mother nearby and circling my chair--a woman well-experienced in the perm world. The pungent odor of the perm solution wafting all around me and covering everyone else in the salon--much like the scent of a skunk...it does not leave you once you've become victim to it. The long strip of cotton the stylist would wedge between my hairline and the extra tight rods...as if sealing my head with an O ring...a rubber seal that never really worked. She would then vanish to who knew where (though I know now it was off to a sectioned off lair where all kinds of goodies were kept). I can still remember sitting in that chair looking hideous in my tight perm rods housed inside a clear plastic bubble of a cap...as if I were a walking green house; the cold, yet burning liquid sneaking out from underneath the now soaked through strip of cotton. Do I dab at it? Do I let it drip? Do I wave my hands and try to get somebody's attention? Just when I thought I couldn't take the punishment any longer the stylist would emerge like Glinda the Good Witch and replace the cotton strip...and then, like Glinda, she would float away. And, finally, the time would come for a good rinse...relief at last...or so I thought. I don't think my neck has ever hurt as badly as it did when I was kid, lying atop my perm rods, in the crook of that hard as hell sink. But then...it was all worth it...this girl had curls.

Fast forward to my own daughter, now sitting in the chair. Her hair is as straight as a board (like mine) and the time has finally come. After an hour and a half the rods were removed and ... nothing. NO CURLS!
Right then and there my daughter's stylist said, "I'm re-doing this perm right now" (it was 7:00 at night). I told her thanks, but we could reschedule for another day/time. She insisted, saying, "If I was a girl who thought she was going to wake up in the morning with curls...then I would want curls!" What a woman!! The owner, who was walking out the door, purse in hand, turned right back around, set her purse down on the floor and offered to help. The stylist and the owner began working on my daughter in tandem...one on the left; the other on the right. I left the three of them alone and drove on home (I live about 5 miles down the road). my daughter's stylist lives a mile from us so she offered to bring my daughter home with her when she was finished. When I got the call it was well after 8:00 and I was out checking a hog trap with my husband, son, and a friend of mine and her son. We all jumped into our old army jeep and took off. It was cold outside and the moonlight was enough to light our way. We picked up my daughter and saw her smile before we saw her curls. In this day and age it is so nice to know there are still people who go the extra mile...because they remember what it was like to be a young girl.

There is something to be said about big hearted people working in a small town salon. A mother's thank you goes out to our stylist Karmia and owner Pam!

Gal. 6:9

As parents we try to teach our kids all of those golden rules our parents taught us; rules such as treat others the way you want to be treated...you reap what you sow...hard work and perseverance pay off in the end...always do the right thing...honesty is the best policy...etc. As adults we learn that although the above rules are ones to live by it seems as if no one really does. It is so hard to tell your kids one thing while knowing they witness just the opposite. Ultimately we end up preparing our kids for the worst while praying for the best.

After witnessing first hand all of the effort, energy, time, and heart that my son put into raising his 4H chickens I wanted him to be recognized. After all, I knew he worked his tail end off...I knew he loved every single minute of caring for them even when his fingers were red and stinging from having them soaking wet in freezing temperatures...I knew he took pride in what he did. But I am not enough and that is hard to realize sometimes.

A week or so ago, while looking for some boots for my husband, the four of us walked into a very upscale western store. We knew the prices were going to be waaaaay out of our price range, but we also know that sometimes a good deal is in the most unlikely of places. I was pleased to notice that on the wall, just to the right of the entrance was a small, brass plaque, on which was inscribed the following:

"And let us not get tired of doing what is right, for after a while we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don't get discouraged and give up." Gal. 6:9.

After looking, but not touching, we exited the store and I pointed out the plaque to my kids-reading the verse out loud and explaining to them what it meant. My son is the one who made the comment, "That's good...I really like that." My son is the reason we were all shopping around for western attire for "the big weekend." My son is the reason I shed tears for two days. For he never tired of doing the right thing and he never gave up...and this weekend, even though his chickens were the lightest chickens in the entire show, and he only received sixth, seventh, and eighth place ribbons...my son won the Bandera County Junior Stockshow SHOWMANSHIP AWARD for 2009!!!

To have your child's efforts recognized by someone else...to know that he did, in fact, reap a harvest of blessing-for doing the right thing...well, it just brought forth tears of joy. It was such a powerful parenting moment -- one that will stay with me forever.

Congratulations, Son...I am so proud of you!

Taking Stock

There is still so much to do
Yet nothing more can be done
The chickens have been fed
I'm so proud of my son
The chickens were crated
In the back of our truck
I hugged him goodbye and
Wished him good luck
The weigh in is early
The show is at one
No matter the place
My boy has won
He always worked hard
In the heat and the cold
He raised them from chicks
Only to be sold
I can write all about it
I can snap pictures with glee
But my husband is the one
Who taught responsibility
Together they labored
To prepare for this show
A boy and his dad
A memory did grow

Mirror Mirror On The Wall

Have you ever noticed that when your clothes no longer fit you suddenly feel the need to go shopping?! Shopping for things like shoes, purses, jewelry, and hair care products? These are all things that help us to feel and look pretty....okay...sometimes just feeling pretty is enough. Even when we have a strong self-esteem it is frustrating to not look the way we feel. And so, we reach into the back of our closet for "those jeans"...the ones that are so damn comfortable (because they are our current size like it or not). These jeans, for a moment, make us feel good because we can actually fit into something...something not so restricting. When we are constantly aware of our breath, our posture, and the way our inseam feels ... well ... it ain't pretty. And so we put on one of "those tops" that are flowy and long...way below the butt long. We avoid those ridiculous full length mirrors and instead refer to the one the size of our face...the make up mirror. This circle of light allows us to focus on the color of our eyes and the glow in our cheeks. We can check out our earrings and we can pucker our lips. We can cover ourselves in a shower of our favorite perfume and we can curl or straighten our hair to our heart's content. We can store all of the above products in our new purse and we can hold our head high knowing that there is still a part of us that is intact.

Always Leave a Q-Tip

This morning started off okay if you count a thirty minute duel with the snooze button. I knew I would have to get up early but I stayed up late again...because I could. I took my time getting ready--barely shuffling my feet...because I could. I didn't have to report to work until 8:00 this morning so there you have it...of course as the morning wore on I ended up actually leaving my house at 8:00 (but let's not go there...just in case my boss reads this---!)

As I enjoyed my quiet moment "alone" this morning--the kids were still asleep--I poured some coffee, talked to our cat, and turned on the Today Show. It was cold and wet with a high of 43 so I put on an extra layer of clothing. Snickers decided that I needed a little company so she stayed with me in my bathroom while I put on my makeup. She thoroughly enjoys playing with Q-Tips so I threw one down to her. She batted it around and around until it ended up on the bath mat in front of my tub. She had the mat curled up and flipped over in no time. Then it was on to bigger and better (and shinier) things.

I left my chair for a second to get something and up she hopped. She stretched over the counter as if she were ready for her close up. My eyes grew wide when I realized what could potentially happen. Sure enough Snickes reached for a cotton ball and in the process knocked an earring to the ground (don't worry Mother...I have a plastic cover over my drain to catch all of my stray hairs that somehow or another find their way to every drain in the house!).

When I finally made it to work I enjoyed seeing people who make me laugh and feel good. I used up my lunch break returning that dad-gum bed in a bag that has been haunting me for weeks now!!! I wash my hands of it!!! I snuck in a power shopping spree and grabbed some Chinese food to go. After work I spent an hour at Wal-Mart...I mean...I might as well get into the real routine again!!!

Needless to say I am pooped out! My right trapezoid muscle is burning and my eyes are heavy. As soon as this gets posted I'm off to bed and hopefully to sleep. One must get her beauty sleep before dealing with the equivalent of trying to herd 600+cats...otherwise known as elementary students in a very large library. Maybe I'll cover the library floor with Q-Tips!!!

Put a Cork In It!

It's time to bid adieu to my glorious two-week vacation. When my alarm sounds tomorrow morning it will be a rude and abrupt reminder that my days of sleeping in until ten are over...as are my nights of staying up until 1 a.m. Fortunately for me tomorrow is classified as a "work day" which means only staff will be there...no kids. This translates as: I will be able to get things done! Except when I am busy catching up with all of my work family. Days like these are great because we get to actually eat a "real" lunch which lasts longer than the usual 15 minutes! I am fortunate in the fact that I truly love what I do and as far as work is concerned I have the best job in the world!! That being said, if I ever do win the lottery I will let someone else love my best job in the world pronto!

One thing that bugs the heck out of me is when people say "I wouldn't want to stay home...I'd get so bored." BORED?! ARE YOU SERIOUS PEOPLE?!? If there is 1 thing that I never am...it is bored. As a matter of fact, as a child, I was never even allowed to use the "bad" word "boring." Instead, I could only say that something was "uneventful." (Now you can probably see why I was never bor-unevented). I honestly believe that I would enjoy every last minute of being alone on an island...well...not the starvation part of it...or the survival part of it...but at least the being alone part of it. I am as much at home in solitude as I am in festivities (though I prefer the former to the latter). Being in the field of education I truly have the best of both worlds. With both of my kids in school all of us are on the same schedule so it all works out...well...everything except the laundry, the dishes, the meals, the housekeeping, the sanity.....

Anyway, I am trying to mentally prepare myself for what we in the business of educating the youth call "the long haul" (the second semester of school...many many many consecutive days of working without another day off!). Tomorrow is like a test run...a chance to ease back into the "routine" of chaos.

I am already looking forward to that glass of merlot when I come home!

Getting to the ROOt of the Issue

Yes, that's my darling dog, Roo, sitting in the potted plant...looking up at me...pleading for me to take her with me. Everytime I am getting ready to leave the house she will jump into any item that either looks like it may be going with me or is closest to the door. Dogs just know when their master is getting ready to leave. Roo starts frantically following me from room to room once she sees me putting on my shoes. Her tiny toenails clacking on the floor; her doe eyes looking upward...sometimes even watering (break my heart). Thank God for our loving pets. They are the only ones we can always count on to make us feel good...no matter what. Right now, as I type this after an hour long solitaire session (can't sleep) Snickers is sleeping at my feet and I can hear Roo's bell/tags jingling every so often as she shifts her position in my son's bed down below. These are the things that make me smile.

TypeWriter

I couldn't resist posting this picture. It is of my grandmother's Corona Standard typewriter; one of my most prized possessions. I treasure the poems that I have of hers...poems typed from this very typewriter. Looking at the keys I can't help but to think of the fancy texting phones that many of us carry today; so different from the permanence of the age old typewriter. There was something so grand and yet mysterious about that heavy piece of black metal. It was so stationary and yet it connected so many people. There was nothing secret or private about typing on it-unless you were completely alone. The clunking of the keys and the ding of the return let anyone within earshot know that something was being produced. Today, people can quietly and secretly text without even looking at their phone--strangers unaware.

I have always gotten a thrill out of receiving a message; a letter; a phone call...anything that meant I was thought of. Today, I am able to send and receive text messages and enjoy the ease of it all. Even though my cell phone does not have a QUERTY keypad I am still able to get by. I love, love, love my home computer and my portable NEO...if for no other reason than the sheer joy I get out of typing on them. I don't know what it is about words that gets me going but I do know that they are meant to be a part of my life. I hope to be stringing them together for as long as I am able...perhaps one of these days my words will speak volumes.

My Space

We all need our space...a place that is our very own. For me it is my writing loft...for Roo it is where I lay my head each night. I love that she loves to be there nestled in my scent...her mama. Before, when I had my age old bedding I didn't give it a second thought, but now that I have recently purchased a new comforter set I am a little apprehensive. Mostly because Roo tends to "dig" her way into a nest of bedding (and I won't even begin to describe the sharp claws and frisky demeanor of Snickers). This new comforter has more of a satin sheen to it than any of my previous covers. I knew this when I bought it...but did it anyway. I am tired of looking so far into the future and trying to be sensible...I am ready to just be happy for the moment--shredded sheets and all.

After making my bed I decided that I would set one of Roo's many beds on top of my bed in an effort to prevent her from digging and scratching. As you can see from the photos above she didn't dig that idea at all! I don't blame her--I, too, love to snuggle in and burrow down in a spot that makes me feel loved, warm, and relaxed. Old, new, borrowed, or blue, we all need to carve out a space that is just ours.

Unplugged

Late last night while basking in the glow of all of the multicolored lights that I have decorated the inside of my house with I made the decision that all would be put away in the morning. Well, the morning has come and gone and my house is starting to look a little bare...but I like it. I am in a get rid of it all kind of mood these days. Every year I vow to simplify the holiday's decor but every time I look at each treasured piece of memorabilia I just can't seem to downsize. But, maybe I'd don't really need to...maybe it's all there to remind me of all that is magical and sweet. Maybe it's because these things are boxed up and stored away that make them so special to me.

Some days I want to box up everything else in the house...still keeping it all...just storing it away. Other days I want to put everything out in the open so that I can cherish it on a daily basis. Where is the balance? Lately I have been overwhelmed with stuff. I don't want to be a slave to all of my belongings. I don't want more but I can't part with what I already have. Maybe I attach too much of a memory with the things that I own. For me, everything has to tell a story...have meaning...not necessarily a purpose...but meaning.

So what is the story in all of this? Our happy holiday glow is fading? The lights are off but we're all still home? It was fun while it lasted? I'm beginning to wonder what will be plugging my outlet until next December...hmmm???

Something's a Little Fishy

Don't you just hate it when you know what you want...when what you want is right there in front of your eyes...but you just can't quite reach it/have it/get it? Isn't it frustrating when the only thing separating you from reaching your goal is...you? So often what we seek is not only right in front of our eyes but within reach--if only we adjust our approach; our point of view.

There have been several times when the answer was a rather simple one but I had gone about finding it the hard way; kind of like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Although I am not fortunate enough to own a pair of ruby slippers, I do have access to something even more powerful-prayer. As my thoughts turn toward the new year ahead of me I can't help but to think of things such as my 20th high school reunion, my family, my parents, my dilapidated life. Will I be able to remain positive and focused? Will I be able to muster enough patience to make it through a single day? Will I find myself at the end of '09 thinking and doing the exact same things I've been thinking and doing my whole life? Will I be a good parent? Will my kids make smart decisions and wise choices? Obviously I can't spend the next 364 days worrying about all of these things...this is where prayer comes in to play. I don't want to come across as being flippant, but I have found a way to let go of all of that which makes me feel queasy...all that hinders me and weighs me down...I pray. God is so amazing that He would do this for me...he takes it all so I don't have to succumb to fear or worry. The hard part is for me to remember to talk to Him about what's on my mind on a daily basis. But, whenever I do, He lifts the burdens away and I am able to sleep at night.

Like my cat, Snickers, I am growing tired of chasing after the things that I want in life only to find out I had seen them in a refracted light...everything was not quite as it seemed. Perhaps the things that I have been longing for most have been right in front of me the whole time...maybe it is time to adjust my approach; my point of view...and pray.

Day 1

Out with the old and in with the new---I love the idea that TODAY is our "clean slate" day. No matter what we did or did not do last year THIS year we will have a chance to redeem ourselves. One of the headlines in the San Antonio Express-News read "Never Give Up." I did not see nor read this until just this morning while flipping through the December 30th paper looking for movie show times. I had been dead set against making any firm resolutions...at least out loud...but the more that I think about it I really like this one: NEVER GIVE UP. And so, with the promise of a whole new year ahead I am choosing to take each day separately and never give up...whether it is the desire to eat healthy or the need to exercise...whether it's the chance to visit with friends or the opportunity to change...I will never give up. Sure, there will be days, weeks, even months, where I fail...but I really won't if I never give up.