Coming Soon

Sooner or later, that is. It seems the wonderfully talented lady who creates the blogger layouts I've been using is no longer among the blogosphere... so I must find a new layout. This one is scheduled to go down "at the first of the year". As we all know, I'm about as forgetful as I am klutzy. I hope I remember to search around and find a layout that appeals to me. I'm always a little apprehensive about pressing that final key that changes the LO, afraid that I'll lose page elements or posts. It was great having a person I *trusted* writing the code, and I didn't worry so much. Oh well... maybe I'll find another person whose LOs I like as much as I have enjoyed these. In the meantime, if you visit my blog and find it looking like the tasmanian devil has been here, would you please let me know? I'll try to be back and get a new look to the place before the final curtain falls. But we know how that goes. :-P

Survivor!

Survivor. That's what I'm hoping to be. Striving to make it through another day of post-Christmas chaos. How sad that the most sacred holiday of all often ends up being the most stressful. I promised myself I wouldn't stress this year, and I was fairly successful for the most part. I didn't get tore up about my baking projects, and simply rolled with the punches when something didn't turn out right, or when I ran out of time. I didn't beat myself up for eating Ryan's little container of candy... I simply made him another one. (And then forgot to take it to my mom's... but a quick phone call to Whitney solved that issue. And then a second quick phone call took care of Alissa's gift - that I had also forgotten to take). The weeks leading up to Christmas, though busy indeed, didn't get the best of me and the stress-o-meter was well below the danger zone. All that said, and as happy as I am to report it... it's the days following Christmas that may be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. I'm ready to get the house back in order. I'm not so worried about the den, which is now serving as Leyland and Corey's personal Playground Wonderland. It's the kitchen, the bathroom, My Room.... all the dirty laundry, the clean laundry waiting to be folded. All the remnants of gift unwrapping are nicely stuffed into one large and one small box, awaiting their final destination in the dumpster. Mary's gifts are packed in large tote bags, awaiting delivery to her mom's house when she goes home on Thursday. Corey and Leyland's new clothes are stacked neatly in my room, waiting to be tried on, stripped of their tags, then off to the laundry before wearing. All their new jammies are freshly laundered, waiting to be folded and put away. Tiny pieces of sparkly and glittery things lie about the floor in my room, left over from wrapping and embellishing. All manner of "things" are out of place, and it's driving me nuts. So to say that I hope to be a survivor is putting it mildly. There's this characteristic I have that defies understanding. I can tolerate clutter and an untidy room/house... to a point. I can tolerate it sometimes for days on end. But once I pass that point, it really gets on my last nerve and I think I will spontaneously combust before I can get it rectified. I passed that point about 1:57 Sunday afternoon... and I've been taking slow breaths in and out, in and out. Saturday I was able to take a nap amidst all the chaos, and be a little bit lazy. And wouldn't you know it, my jumping off point had to hit me Sunday afternoon.... when I had to work and couldn't do anything about it. Then late Sunday evening when Whitney couldn't find her work folder... I was starting to reach for the panic button. Bless her heart, that apple didn't fall far from the tree. She told me she remembered putting it in a "safe place", because the rest of the house is so out of control right now. I just looked at her when she said that, and knew we were in trouble. "A Safe Place" at The 409 is translated: "It will never, ever be seen again." About two seconds before I pushed the panic button, I found the folder. That can only mean one thing: I will survive the madness, and one day soon - THIS WEEK, we will get our home back to some semblance of normalcy. But please don't come visit me this week. And you might want to give me a call if you're planning on next week. There may be several episodes of spontaneous combustion before it's all over with. But I'm confident that in the end, I will survive.

The Bigger Picture

All I Want For Christmas

Peace on earth, and all that jazz. But what I REALLY want for Christmas is a case of HotHands. You know, those little thingies that you put in your gloves to keep your hands warm? Those things that hunters and (the insanely crazy) people who attend football games in blizzards put in their gloves? Yeah. I want some of those. A bunch of those.

Some days I just absolutely freeze to death while I'm working. My room stays a fairly constant temperature, and if I am up and about doing normal things, it's just fine. However, just sitting with the only thing about me moving is my fingers, and occasionally the twitchy-bouncy-leg thing going on, I get cold. Some days will find me wearing flannel jammies underneath sweat pants and shirt, a scarf around my neck, and wrapped in a fleece cloak thing. Such a glamorous wardrobe! That keeps me pretty toasty, all except for my exposed face and hands. You'd think since my hands are moving that they wouldn't get cold. Wrong. My hands and fingers are sometimes like chunks of ice. Which is not conducive to high productivity. This is a problem shared by many in my profession, and even when the rest of me is all warm and snug, my hands and fingers still get cold. Happens in the summertime too. (My MT friend Joyce, who lives way up north in Pennsylvania, told me about a nifty heated keyboard. I'll hafta check that out one of these days.)

I've tried fingerless gloves, and though they are somewhat helpful, it's not worth the bulkiness. Sometimes I just have to stop and sit on my hands for a few minutes. But that takes time away from the keyboard, and no typing = no money. And it's only a temporary fix, lasting a few short minutes. So I've been searching for a better solution.

Hobby Lobby used to sell these form-fitting hand/wrist covers designed to lend support to crafters who suffer from hand and wrist problems such as carpal tunnel syndrome. They are cut so that the entire thumb is exposed and cover the back of the hand only to the knuckle level. They are lightweight and thin, so as not to encumber the crafter's hand movements. So I got this bright idea that if I got me some of those sweet little hand warmer thingies, and put them inside those Hobby Lobby hand/wrist support gloves, that it should help keep my hands and fingers warm. So, I picked up some HotHands the other day, then headed out to HL to purchase the gloves. Much to my dismay, my local store doesn't seem to carry them any more. So I continued to ponder my plight and the solution thereof.

While working this afternoon, my hands and fingers were terribly cold, so I decided it was time to get creative. I mean, here are these little packets of HotHands sitting on my desk just waiting to be activated, and here are my freezing little fingers just waiting to be warmed. I opened the package, shook, shook, shook the little teabag-looking things, and inserted them into the cuff of my sweatshirt sleeve. Ummm... they actually DO get warm!!! After a few minutes of hassling with positioning, the wheels in my brain started turning again. I set out in search of something with which to secure my warm little friends more closely to my wrist. Initially I was searching for some of Leyland's ponytail holders, but it was soon evident that those wouldn't work. Not big enough. I'm not interested in the tourniquet effect. I want my hands to be warm... not fall off. Ultimately I found a solution that worked, and I'm delighted to say things are warming up. Namely my fingers. Whitney made some tutus yesterday and left the elastic laying on the table, and as soon as I saw it.. Light Bulb!!

So here I sit at my desk, very excited to report that Global Warming is taking effect in the distal-most part of my upper extremities. I measured the elastic, cut it and tied the ends together, and now have a snug, but not-too-tight little band to hold the warming pads to my wrists. Sounds absolutely crazy, doesn't it!! Well, it looks pretty crazy too. But let me tell you, my friends...it feels... FABULOUS! Placing the pads over my radial and ulnar arteries was like running my blood vessels through a nice mug of hot chocolate, and within minutes I could FEEL the warm blood flowing into my fingers.

Granted, it looks pretty stupid, but they're covered with my sweatshirt sleeves at the moment. My newest light bulb idea is to get some of those wrist sweat band things that athletes use, and slide the warmers underneath there. That would look much better, and then I could pretend I actually work out. Looks like a trip to Academy Sports is in the my near future.

My daddy always taught us to make do with what you have, and if something is at all workable, figure out how to make it work. I think I've figured out how to make this work for me. :-) I have enough hand warmers to get me through today and tomorrow. After that I'll be needing some more. A small personal heater might be nice too, but short of aiming a flame thrower or at least a hair dryer on my hands, even the personal heater doesn't doo much to solve this dilemma.

So, Santa, if you're reading my blog, please bring me some HotHands and wrist sweat bands. Spring thaw is a long ways off yet. Thanking you in advance, I remain, Yours Truly, CathyB

Elf On The Shelf

I was reading some Facebook posts the other day, and my friend Jessie M. (mother of three preschoolers) was talking about the Elf on the Shelf. I had never heard of that, so, Googlehead that I am, I Googled it for mor information. It's a neat concept. It comes as a kit, complete with a story book and a little stuffed-toy elf. The little elf sits perched on a shelf (or some other spot in the home that offers a good vantage point) and watches the kiddies all day long. At night, he magically transports himself to the North Pole to give Santa a report on the behavior of the children. The next morning, he is back at work watching the munchkins... only he returns to a different spot. The children are excited each morning to search the house and find where the elf will be perched for the day.

At least, that's the basic idea of the Elf On The Shelf. I haven't read the book, but it seems like the concept is being used by moms and dads all over to encourage, cajole, (and otherwise threaten) children into good behavior as the excitement of Christmas peaks and threatens to explode like a pressure cooker full of confetti. When I was a kid, there were no little toy elves placed in mysterious places, or shelves... just the constant warning "the elves are watching" whenever we did something less than angelic. From what I can tell, this particular Shelf Elf not only reports the naughty behavior, but the nice behavior as well. Smart moms and dads can use this not only as a threat against bad behavior, but as a tool for encouraging good behavior. How clever!! I can't wait to buy this kit next year for our munchkins. Hmmm. I wonder if we might find it on clearance after Christmas... and use it all year long???

A White House Christmas

It's no secret that I'm not a fan of President Obama. And Oprah fell from favor with me a while back as well, with some of her hairbrained "religious" views. However, I found myself drawn to Oprah's Christmas special at the White House last night. It was an interesting show, and the house is indeed decorated beautifully. Though I am vehemently opposed to much of his policy, to the people he surrounds himself with, and to the ultimate place that I feel his leadership will take us, I do find him an engaging speaker. Though at times his demeanor is a bit arrogant, he also can display a down-to-earthness that I like. I found the exchange between he and Michelle charming, and it was almost like sitting in the parlor chatting with your neighbor. Oprah asked some interesting questions, and I especially enjoyed the conversation about Santa. I do applaud them for (seemingly) trying to create a normal life as possible for the children. It surely must be awful growing up under a microscope. All in all, I found them to be very gracious hosts for the event, and enjoyed seeing the different decorations and the beauty of the season as it was showcased in The White House. (See... it IS possible for me to say something nice about him... sometimes...)

Holiday Cheer ~ Holiday Blues

Have a Holly Jolly Christmas! It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year! Happy Holidays! Joy To The World! Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas!Oh yes, the holidays are a time of love, wonder, peace, and the feeling that all is right with the world. A little bit of heaven on earth. Family togetherness with brightly-lit trees and mountains of gifts. It truly is a magical time. The decorations, the music, the candles, the scents, the traditions… all of these things foster within our hearts a softer side, a forgiving side, a greater sense of tolerance, a spirit of giving. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.But I am reminded that for many it is a time of profound sadness and loneliness. I am one of the most blessed people I know… I am surrounded by the best family and friends EVER. There is never an excuse for me to be lonely, as I’m always busy, or always with the people I love. Nevertheless, sometimes a sense of loneliness will overcome me and no matter how hard I fight it, it comes anyway. So I have learned to just let it come, and focus on my blessings, and it will pass. At some point in life, I’m sure everyone has felt this sense of loneliness during the holidays. Your first Christmas after the death of someone you love. Your first Christmas with a loved one in uniform serving on the other side of the globe. Your first holiday after a divorce or the end of a relationship. And though time will heal much of the pain, subsequent Christmases will always hold a reminder of happier times, or times spent with someone who won’t be at your dinner table this year. There was one particular Christmas that was very sad and painful for me, and while the acuteness has subsided, there still come pangs of painful memories, reminding me that in some ways, I too, am alone. How much more painful, then, for those whose losses are recent? Who have bitterness in their hearts instead of love and good cheer? Who are truly alone and have no one with whom to spend happy moments around a tree. And in these tough economic times, those who have lost so much? Those who are suffering with illness and disease? Those who wish someone would simply notice them, and take a moment to say hello and offer an encouraging word?Yes, Christmas is a time of the year like no other. A time that promotes all the feel-good emotions. But also a time that just amplifies the sadness and loneliness for many people. My friends who read this blog are also among the most blessed people I know- and yet that doesn’t mean within our hearts we don’t have sorrowful moments. My challenge to each of us, while we are going about our family traditions, decking the halls, being jolly and donning our gay apparel, is to spend a moment each day to say a prayer for those who are hurting. And it’s okay to admit that there is hurt in our own hearts as well. Not one of us are exempt, and for many of you I know the source of your personal pain. So let’s be sure to remember those about us, strangers and friends alike, who though may indeed enjoy the season, are dealing with challenges and sadness brought on by the holidays. God bless us, one and all! (And may we be a blessing to others!)

(Originally posted 12-16-08)

Christmas Was Only The Beginning

Private Meeting with Democrats?

President Obama went to the capitol on Sunday to speak with Democrats who remain divided over the health care bill. Apparently the meeting was to spur them on and urge them to unite in their support. What part of "NO" does he not understand? Honestly. After the uproar in our nation over his version of health care reform, one would think that he would step back and look at other options, examine other proposals, and maybe even exhibit a small measure of common sense, and realize that We Do Not Want it. Not to mention that It Will Not Work. There is enough Big Government already. There is much wisdom in the bumper sticker that says "You think health care is expensive now, just wait until it is free." Wise as it is, though, it is quite misleading. There is nothing FREE about it. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I'll betcha the uninsured people who originally supported the bill are questioning their support. Oh yeah, you'll remember that I'm all about health care reform, but I don't see this as anything but a lose-lose. All the way around. Besides, any bill that isn't prefaced with tort reform isn't going to matter anyway. (At this point, please refer to one of many previous blog posts lamenting this subject. I'll spare you my ranting today.)

And can I just say about the Copenhagen Climate Conference this week... Something's rotten in Denmark!

Two Wolves

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.

He said, "My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all.

"One is Evil - It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

"The other is Good - It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

Mama Told Me Not To Come

Three Dog Night was a great band! I used to have a nice collection of 45s that I just about wore out. Late Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons, channel 17 used to air a show called Now Explosion. The MTV of the 70s, if you will. Kaleidoscope-like scenes (often in black and white) would gyrate across the tv screen, or perhaps a still shot of a bunch of hippies with a VW van... whatever seemed to fit the song playing at the time. My friends and I would gather around the monophonic (is that a word?)tv with our portable tape recorders and make cassette tapes of our favorite songs. Then we'd drag those recorders everywhere... even though they were about the size of a shoe box and weighed about 40 lb. (Well, maybe not that much....) I remember being in the car with my mom one Saturday after our weekly trip "to town", and listening to the a.m. radio. I told her that when we got home I was going to call the station and request they play "Joy To The World". She looked at me like I had lost my marbles and reminded me that was the middle of the summer. What a silly mom! She just wasn't "hip" and "with it" enough to know that "Joy To The World" was a super mega hit song by Three Dog Night. Another of my favorite TDN songs was called "Mama Told Me Not To Come". It was a song about a guy who goes to a wild party, and his reaction to the experience. One line goes "I've seen so many things I ain't NEVER seen before.... don't know what it is, but I don't wanna see it no more."

Which brings me to the reason for this post. As I was making my dash through Wal Mart yesterday, I saw a little mirror. It was a super-powerful 15x magnification mirror. It looked like a handy little thing to have, so I tossed it into my buggy, brought it home and looked into it. Now, if you've never looked into one of these mirrors, let me just say.... DON'T. You have to get it really, really close in order to focus. I was apalled at what I saw. I have witnessed a new level of gross. My wrinkles have wrinkles. The pores on my nose could serve as a topographical map of the moon. Seriously. If an entire Whoville full of Whos can exist on a single particle of dust, then I shudder to think what manner of life form inhabits these craters on my face. I've never worried about waxing my eyebrows, because I only had a few rogue hairs out of place, and I'd just tweeze those out every few months. Oh no. I discovered that I was in serious need of a bush-hog. Why didn't anyone tell me that I had a unibrow? My poor lips are so old and cracked that I'm almost afraid to smile now after seeing them close up. Yes, indeed, it was a scary sight. The only good thing about this mirror is that my mostly-undetectable eyelashes appeared long and beautiful in the reflection. I'm seriously considering risking 7 more years of bad luck and crushing the mirror with a sledgehammer. I suppose now I must return to the store and purchase some magic skin potion to restore youth and vitality to my skin. I'm kinda like that guy at the party: "I've seen so many things (on my face) I ain't never seen before... I don't know what it is, but I don't wanna see it no more!!!!!!!"

Christmas Party

We read this and laugh, but sadly, it's not far from the truth these days. Thanks, Cousin Sharon, for passing this along.

****************************************************
Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 1, 2009
RE: Gala Christmas Party

I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place on December 23rd, starting at noon in the private function room at the Grill House. There will be a cash bar and plenty of drinks! We'll have a small band playing traditional carols... feel free to sing along. And don't be surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus! A Christmas tree will be lit at 1:00 PM. Exchanges of gifts among employees can be done at that time; however, no gift should be over $10.00 to make the giving of gifts easy for everyone's pockets. This gathering is only for employees!
Our CEO will make a special announcement at that time!
Merry Christmas to you and your family,
Patty
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 2, 2009
RE: Gala Holiday Party

In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees. We recognize that Hanukkah is an important holiday, which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this year. However, from now on, we're calling it our "Holiday Party." The same policy applies to any other employees who are not Christians and to those still celebrating Reconciliation Day. There will be no Christmas tree and no Christmas carols will be sung. We will have other types of music for your enjoyment. Happy now?
Happy Holidays to you and your family,
Patty
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: October 3, 2009
RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table, you didn't sign your name. I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that reads, "AA Only", you wouldn't be anonymous anymore. How am I supposed to handle this?
Somebody?
And sorry, but forget about the gift exchange, no gifts are allowed since the union members feel that $10.00 is too much money and the executives believe $10.00 is a little chintzy.
REMEMBER: NO GIFTS EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
To: All Employees
DATE: October 4, 2009
RE: Generic Holiday Party

What a diverse group we are! I had no idea that December 20th begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and drinking during daylight hours. There goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon at this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs. Perhaps the Grill House can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party or else package everything for you to take it home in little foil doggy baggy. Will that work?
Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from the dessert buffet, and pregnant women will get the table closest to the restrooms.
Gays are allowed to sit with each other. Lesbians do not have to sit with Gay men, each group will have their own table. Yes, there will be flower arrangement for the Gay men's table..
To the person asking permission to cross dress, the Grill House asks that no cross-dressing be allowed, apparently because of concerns about confusion in the restrooms. Sorry.
We will have booster seats for short people.
Low-fat food will be available for those on a diet.
I am sorry to report that we cannot control the amount of salt used in the food. The Grill House suggests that people with high blood pressure taste a bite first.
There will be fresh "low sugar" fruits as dessert for diabetics, but the restaurant cannot supply "no sugar" desserts. Sorry!
Did I miss anything?!?!?
Patty
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All F*%^ing Employees
DATE: October 5, 2009
RE: The F*%^ing Holiday Party
I've had it with you vegetarian slime!!! We're going to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death," as you so quaintly put it, and you'll get your f*%^ing salad bar, including organic tomatoes. But you know, tomatoes have feelings, too. They scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream. I'm hearing them scream right NOW!
The rest of you f*%^ing weirdoes can kiss my *ss. I hope you all have a rotten holiday!
Drive drunk and die,
The B*tch from H*ll!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Company Memo
FROM: Joan Bishop, Acting Human Resources Director
DATE: October 6, 2009
RE: Patty Lewis and Holiday Party
I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Patty Lewis a speedy recovery and I'll continue to forward your cards to her.
In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay.
Happy Holidays!
Joan

Happy Birthday Whitney

I can't believe my baby girl turns 24 today!!! It truly doesn't seem like it has been that long! I can't remember where I left my car keys today or the name of the book I'm reading, but I can give you an almost minute-by-minute account of the day she was born. Some things are branded into our memories forever, and I suspect few things can rival bringing a baby into the world. Though I can't truly say that I have loved EVERY minute of motherhood, I can honesly say that I've loved my daughter every minute that I have been blessed to be her mother. We share the same crazy sense of humor, and one of my favorite things is that we totally "get" each other. Probably not many mother-daughter teams have nearly been expelled from a funeral home or prepared childbirth classes, or KFC in Winder for hysterical laughter, sometimes resulting in the spewing of soda. The phrase "human remains" for most people conjures up unpleasant thoughts, but for us it brings back memories of the improper use of the phrase and how we knew better than to look at each other or we would have exploded. Of course, like any mother and daughter, we've had our moments where we didn't like each other very much, but thankfully fewer than most. It has been my honor to be her mom, and today I'd like to wish her a very special Happy Birthday!!

A few years ago I made a little scrapbook telling the story of her birth. Here are a couple of pages from that scrapbook. December 4, 1985. The happiest day of my life.

Terry Reid Kia

Should I be working right now? Yep. It's 12:35 in the afternoon. I should be halfway finished with my work day. However, there's a glitch in my VPN connection and I can't hop on board the hospital network at the moment. So here I am. I have groceries to put away and some laundry, and serious vacuuming to do, so there's no chance I'll have time to get bored. I'm hoping for a call from Mr. Bob at any moment to diagnose and fix whatever it is that's blocking my connection.

So while I'm waiting... instead of laundry, groceries and vacuuming, I thought I'd stop by the blog and give a high-five to my friends at Terry Reid Kia in Athens. I just absolutely love a place that treats their customers with courtesy and efficiency. You may have seen my posts regarding Brad Akins' Ford Mazda dealership in Athens, and how pleased I have always been with their service. The Athens Kia dealership closed a while back, which is what lead me to Akins to buy tires. That, and the fact that I know Brad is an honest businessman, and has a fine staff (my dear friend Kim N. included.) I had just had my oil changed (for FREE because I bought tires there... check it out!) a couple of weeks ago, and then last week the car started running hot. Whitney was out driving it, so I instructed her to take it to Akins, and I called Kim to let her know she was on the way. Since Terry Reid has now opened a Kia place across the street from Akins, Kim sent Whitney over there, in case it was something that would be covered under warranty. Lo and behold.... Whitney called me so excited to report that Mr. Stephens, WBHS band dad extraordinaire, Pit Crew Chief, is now the service manager at Kia!! How cool is that! We spent every Friday night in the fall, band camp in the summer, and band field trips with Phil and Nancy for four years, and enjoyed being around them so much. He was especially close to the pit kids, and everyone just loved him. Most women hate to mess around with "car stuff" and generally distrust most men who try to tell us things we don't understand and take our money. I was very relieved to hear that Phil would be taking care of us. I took the car in this morning, with my laptop in tow, hoping to get some software installed. Made the mistake of checking Facebook first, and got caught up with that. And then this big teddy bear of a guy (employee), a self-proclaimed computer geek, sat down at the table. We started talking, and he did some tweaking on my laptop, downloaded Mozilla Foxfire, and man is that baby running fast now! Yipee!

I've had a great morning. My car is healed, my laptop has been ramped up, and my grocery shopping is done. I always like to spread the word whenever I receive good customer service from somewhere, and today I give Terry Reid Kia two thumbs up! Now if someone would just come put away my groceries, my laundry, and vacuum for me, I'd be set. Oh, and fix my VPN connection. I'll bet my new friend from the Kia place could fix it!!!

Christmas Decorations

I'm sitting in my office/bedroom/craft room enjoying the quiet of an empty house. The grandbabies are at GiGi's, Whitney has gone to turn in/pick up work from Dr. F's office, and it's just me and the whir of my computers and the washer/dryer noise in the next room. Ahhh. My Charlie Brown Christmas tree is standing tall and proud by the window, within reach of my desk. I bought some of the old-fashioned-looking LED lights this year, and I really love that I can leave the lights on for hours and they never get hot. I'm so anal (can you believe it!) about the lights. I put them on and took them off three or four times before getting it just right. I bought two strands of 200, and was hoping it would be enough. (I had about 800 of the mini-lights on the tree last year) It's amazing the difference these bigger lights make, because I only needed the one strand of 200, and will take the other strand back for a refund. It was such fun going through the box of ornaments that went missing last year. Well, actually it wasn't missing, it was tucked safely away in my (former) craft room. I was delighted to find it when transporting all my craft supplies out to the new room. I knew I had put the box in a safe place... I just couldn't remember where I had put it. Oh the joys of growing older. :-) Now if I can only find the tree skirt....

No decorations in the family room as yet - we'll wait a little closer to Christmas to do that. Even though the tree in the family room will be dressed in unbreakable ornaments, tiny little hands will still probably wreck the whole thing, so we're delaying it for a while. I'm going to put garland with lights on my porch bannister, so they can look out the window and see the "Christmas lights". I'm also hoping to put a lighted garland over "the ledge" (a look-through hole in the wall between kitchen and den with bannister thingies. We call it "the ledge" because we put things on it to keep them out of reach from Corey's little hands. Dr. M had a work station in his hallway we called "the ledge", and the label just seemed to fit this particular place in my house.)Anyway, the plan is to put a lighted garland over "the ledge" and hang our stockings from it. Stockings that I haven't found yet. I think they're with the tree skirt.

Leyland is such fun this year, getting all excited about the lights, and

Corey just points and says "Look, LOOK!!!" In town there are two large, lighted wreaths, and one night this past weekend as they were driving by, Dustin said "Look... Christmas donuts!!" Whitney said the kids got hysterical. So they're really enjoying the season, and they love to come in here and look at my tree. Miss Leyland sometimes tells her mommy she needs to go potty... just so she can take a detour and come see Greemaw's Christmas tree. Greemaw has been using the same little scrawny pine tree for several years. It's a very thin, very sparsely-limbed Charlie Brown tree. And I love it. It's so perfect for my small area. And because most every other surface area in my room is already covered with something, there's little room for Christmas decorations this year. I do have one area that holds my most favorite gift ever. Surrounding this, I have Christmas photos of Whitney as a child, and of Leyland and Corey too. That's about all the room I have for decorating, which is okay, because it means less to pack up and store in a safe place once it's all over.

However, I was quite surprised to find that another small area had been decorated for the holidays with no effort at all on my part. For a few moments this morning, the sun shone directly onto the base of my computer monitor, where I was treated to the sight of a winter wonderland!! It's amazing how nicely dust particles fit into the decor. It's a sweet little snow scene. The way the monitor stand is molded, it looks like there's a little frozen pond, and a nice little area of shoreline, complete with garlands hanging overhead. Well, it's really cobwebs, but I think garland sounds more festive, don't you? I can imagine all the little dust bunnies frolicking around in the "snow", and skating on the little "winter pond". There are certain rewards involved in being a slacker when it comes to dusting. Who knew? So, who am I to deprive my little dust bunnies of their own Christmas decor? I'm sure in a few days the snow will be deeper, the garlands will multiply, and I'll start to see little dustbunny snowmen surrounding the pond. Merry Christmas, dustbunnies!! Your decor is safe with me!

How do we even begin to count our blessings? In a time where much of what we hear is complaining, doomsday prophesies, when our family and friends are suffering through bad health, loss of jobs and homes, sometimes it is difficult to see where our blessings lie. But for all the negative energy and in the reality of pain and loss, we don't have to look far to see our blessings. Around this time of year it is common to hear people freely speak of "What I Am Thankful For". During the month of November, some of my friends on Facebook would list something every day for which they are thankful. I so enjoyed reading those posts. Some were humorous, but most were very sincere thoughts from the hearts of those who are humbled by their blessings. Most all of us would list our family, our homes, our jobs, our health, our faith, you know... the big ticket items that we seem to take for granted until they're gone. Yet, the Bible teaches us "In everything give thanks..." (I Thessalonians 5:18) Now that's a very high goal for which to strive. I don't understand it, and it is often difficult to do. But because my faith allows me to see a bigger picture, I know that "all things work together for good for those who love God." I don't understand much of what happens, but I do know that no matter what happens, the God that I love will never desert me. I like the little saying that says something like: Life is not about learning how to avoid the storms. It's about learning how to dance in the rain.

As our world seems to get crazier every day, and our lives busier than ever before, let's not forget to be thankful for the little things. Learning to have a grateful heart in even the small things will change the way we see things in every perspective. When I am whining about how "tough" my life is, I think of the thousands of people, perhaps hundreds of thousands of people would gladly trade their life for my version of "tough". You and I may have it "tougher" than some folks. No doubt we do. But then we have it a heck of a lot better than most folks. Let's be thankful for that. I love my family, my friends, my home, my job, and I'm thankful for them all. I love the freedom and liberty that we enjoy in our nation, but sadly are in perilous danger of losing. On a side note here, I'm doing some light research for a project I'm working on, and I've gotten my hands on some middle and high school history textbooks, as well as a copy of US History for Dummies. I'm fascinated by our country's history, and the more I learn, the more thankful I become for those who came before us and who paved the way for the birth of a nation. It is from these courageous adventurers that we began the custom of celebrating Thanksgiving. They didn't celebrate the day by poring over salespaper ads for Black Friday shopping. They didn't watch huge floats in the Macy's parade or turn on their big-screen tvs to watch football. No... they were too busy thanking the natives for teaching them how to grow crops, and most of all focusing on thanking God Almighty for bringing them through the worst winter of their lives, where many were lost because they did not have the things that we take for granted... food and shelter. It was a brutal beginning to what we call America. I'll be one of the first folks in line at Wal Mart on Friday, that's for sure, but I know that I am blessed, and I am truly thankful for each one. May we all find a quiet moment.... many moments.... during this season.... during each day of every season, to remember our blessings and be thankful. Happy Thanksgiving!!

Mr. Tom Turkey - Revised

Well, my wonderful Blogger friends... it is the Eve of Thanksgiving. The time when Suzy Homemakers all over the country are bustling about their kitchens, preparing for tomorrow's feast. Normally at this point, I would describe these activities in detail.... except I have no experience from which to draw, so I'll just leave it to your imagination and your own personal experience as to what happens in the kitchen on Thanksgiving Eve. Over the years, I've been blessed to be the benefactor of the Thanksgiving Eve labor of others, while my own personal contribution has usually been brown-n-serve rolls, or Mrs. Smith's apple pie, or the occasional green-bean-casserole. I've never, ever cooked a turkey. Never wanted to. (Still don't.)

In a way, it's a sad day today. It's the day of the Thanksgiving lunch at the office where I used to work, the first one since I left to go back to the hospital. My boss was a very generous man with Christmas bonuses, and knew the best way to make a girl happy was to give her the bonus at the luncheon... because he knows we all love to shop on Black Friday!!! I'm talking a very serious kind of generous here. It was fabulous. And so wonderful that he didn't make us wait until Christmas, but gave it to us in time for Major Shopping. And while I am very grateful for anything that anyone gives me, I knew it would bring back bittersweet memories when I received my $20.00 Wal Mart gift card from the hospital. Sorta pales in comparison, if you know what I mean. Granted.... the hospital has many, many MANY more employees than my former office, where there were only six gals working. So obviously, any gift at all from the hospital couldn't be very much. But, hey.... I'm the Queen of Wal Mart, so $20.00 at Wal Mart can still be a good thing! So I'm all geared up, prepared to graciously accept the gift card and try to remember how much better off I am in my current job (read about that story here), and try not to fret over the absence of my nice, big, fat, juicy, bonus check. And while I do appreciate any gift, and I do understand that we have lots of employees and everyone is having to tighten their belts, it was a tiny bit disappointing to learn that this year, instead of the Wal Mart card, we would be receiving a 10-12 lb frozen turkey off the back of the delivery truck that brings our cafeteria food. Not very exciting, but hey, I'd much rather have a 10-12 lb frozen turkey off the back of a transfer truck than a pink slip for me or any of my fellow hospital emloyees!! And lest I sound ungrateful, just let it be known here, that I am totally Paying It Forward, and donating my multi-thousand-dollar bird to Dustin's family's Thanksgiving feast.

Which brings us back to Tom Turkey and Suzy Homemaker. Those of you who know me well might remember that my cooking talents, what little there were to begin with, began to fade when I moved back to Statham in 1993. It's all my mom's fault. Whitney stayed with her after school, and when I returned from work to pick her up, my dinner was on the table every night. She spoiled me plumb rotton. Rurnt me, if you will. You know that whole use-it-or-lose-it thing? Yep, it applies with cooking as well. I seem to have lost my touch all together, and no longer even attempt. (Truth be known, I really CAN cook... but it is oh so wonderful to only be expected to bring paper plates, potato chips or rolls to all the covered-dish lunches and family reunions....)

DNA is an amazingly wonderful thing. Somewhere deep within the chain of molecules there lies a cooking gene, and though it must have been recessant in me, I do believe it has been passed on to Whitney in its more dominant form. Bless her heart. Her mama didn't teach her nuthin' regarding the culinary arts, but she has turned out to be quite the little chef. I won't delve into her repertoire, but she has several dishes that she has perfected nicely. Today she decided to try her hand at Mr. Tom Turkey. Having transferred it from the freezer to the fridge two days ago, we had no idea that his innards would still be frozen. Never having had my hand up the rump of a turkey, I assumed it would be just like a chicken, and told her to remove all the loose stuff inside. (Actually I told her to "curette the walls") Well, the loose stuff inside was still pretty much frozen and stuck to the walls of the... cavity. There was also this funky little plastic looking thing that we figured was a handle to facilitate easy removal of the innards. (No, it wasn't a fancy little pop up "I'm done" thing.) Well, the plastic thing broke with the innards still hiding inside the... cavity. After about the third question about turkey-cookin, I told Whitney she was just gonna hafta call her Nany, who has cooked many a turkey for many a family gathering. Well, Whitney had Tom Turkey juice up to her elbows, so I dialed the number. Now, here we are, two turkey-cooking-virgins, calling our elders on the phone to solicit culinary advice. Can you believe that they LAUGHED at us??? Yes ma'am... Nany and Pawpoo both just hooted like hyenas when we asked how to cook a turkey. And I thought Nany would split a gut when Whitney asked her about that "bony spine-looking thing" that simply would NOT come out of the.... cavity. After much laughing and poking all manner of fun at us for not knowing a giblet from a gizzard (and I still don't), they instilled enough confidence for Whitney to have another go at that neck-thing. We had to cut them off at the pass, though, when they started talking about giblet gravy. BLECH!!!!! These giblets and gizzards are going straight in the garbage!!! No gravy from this turkey!! When the spiney looking thing still wouldn't budge, another phone call to Pawpoo assured me that it really would be okay to just cook it with the neck in there and pull it out later. (It's a turkey... they taste like cardboard to start with. What's a little neck juice gonna do to hurt it?) A few minutes later, Whitney came in here with her arms raised in victory and doing a little happy dance. She got the neck out. And the giblets. And the gizzards. (Eww... now that just sounds soooo appetizing i think i'll just go eat me some turkey. Oh wait, it's still raw. )

Mr. Tom Turkey has been sprinkled with salt and pepper, wrapped in the finest of tin foil from the dollar store, and now sits gutless and neckless in the warmth of my oven, where he will roast for eight or nine hours. Or three or four. I don't remember what Nany said. Maybe Whitney will remember.

I won't be eating any of the turkey my ownself, but if this is the last post you see for a while, it may be because I'm tending to those who did. Ha! Actually, I have every confidence that if any turkey can be made to taste good, then Whitney can do it. I admire her courage to try. Maybe I can be like her when I grow up. Happy Thanksgiving Eve!!!

UPDATE I know you're all wondering how Mr. Tom Turkey fared during his stay in my oven. I think he turned out beautifully, and he smells pretty darn good too. Way to go, Whitney!!!

The Candy Store

When I was a little girl, there used to be a candy store in Bogart. Seems to me that maybe it was a cement block building with a tin roof that said "See Rock City". But that may only be a memory concocted in my imagination. I have no recollection of ever going inside The Candy Store. But I do remember that when my Mama Lorene and Pappy would come to visit, we would sometimes ride down to The Candy Store. Pappy would go inside for a few moments, and return with enough candy to put us all in a diabetic coma for weeks. Boxes of soft peppermint sticks, hard pepperment sticks, the tri-colored coconut planks, and my all-time favorite... hard sticks of cloves candy. Why was this my favorite? Well, for starters, it tasted yummy and lasted forever in my mouth, but it also brought on sweet memories of Christmas! At our house it wasn't Christmas without cloves candy, and every year my grandparents made sure that we had several boxes to enjoy throughout the season.

Some childhood favorites never die, and to this day, my favorite hard candy is the cloves stick candy. The Candy Store was ultimately closed and fell to ruin, and it became difficult to find the old-fashioned hard stick candy. Remember, this was back in the olden days before super malls and Wal Mart. Nowadays you can usually find it at Cracker Barrel, but last year our local store had the nerve to sell out of it before I got my Christmas stash. Not to be denied this year, last weekend I went into the store, and spotted the jar containing the cloves (which was conspicuously emptier than all the other flavors). I thought I'd browse about the store for a bit, but wasn't willing to risk someone else coming along and buying up the candy, so instead of a shopping basket, I just grabbed the entire jar and walked around the store until I was ready to check out. A nice girl behind the counter offered to go to "the back" to get me my own personal box of 80-count sticks. I contemplated for a moment, then said "Sure, go ahead", justifying the decision by thinking that I'd attach a little stick to my Christmas gifts this year as an added festive decorative touch, (but knowing deep down inside that even 80 sticks of candy probably wouldn't last til Christmas!). She returned from "the back" and said that there were three boxes, but they were "on the manager's desk", and she could only assume he was holding them for someone. Evidently someone else besides me has fond memories and a taste for the spicy sticks! So, I didn't get my 80-count box of candy. But I was able to count 30 beautiful, shiny, unbroken sticks from the jar in the store, and I walked away happy. (At ten sticks for a dollar, it was a cheap piece of happy!!) Perhaps they'll get another shipment in before Christmas and I'll get to tie them onto my (very few) packages this year. But if you're getting a gift from me, don't hold your breath. You'll probably never see that stick of candy. After all, it's MY memory of The Candy Store, and YOU probably wouldn't enjoy it nearly as much as me anyway. Maybe you'd settle for a simple candy cane? In the meantime, I'll ration myself, and enjoy the nostalgia of holding the candy in my mouth, savoring the flavor, remembering trips to The Candy Store with my grandparents, and childhood Christmases with boxes of cloves candy.

Are Opinions Changing?

As more and more information comes to light about Obamacare, I can't help but wonder if uninsured citizen supporters are beginning to question their support. No doubt, "we the people" will never know what is contained within the nearly 2,000-page document. How could we possibly ever know... if the members of congress, those who will vote, do not themselves know? By their own admission, few of them have attempted to muddle through it... and those who have, I'd venture to say, have no idea what they read. Healthcare is such a multi-faceted entity, that even those of us in the industry for decades have difficulty fathoming the far reach of each element. As always, I am a firm supporter of FIXING the problems of health care, as opposed to re-vamping the entire system. Over the past year, I have posted many arguments to support my thoughts, and I won't repeat them here. What I'm wondering, though, is if any of the citizens who have staunchly supported The Bill, are beginning to waver in their support. Prior to the current economic downturn and increased unemployment, the percentage of uninsured in America wasn't that large a number. The rise in number of those who have lost jobs has, unfortunately, increased the number of uninsured. (Most of us are only a pink slip away from being uninsured... myself included.) In trying to understand how this Plan is designed to help those who need it most, I've become more confused than ever. There are those who are uninsured because they do not work. Why are they not already on Medicaid? Could it be that they do not qualify for Medicaid because there is no reason that they shouldn't be working in the first place? And make no mistake... there are thousands of people in my own town who are Medicaid recipients who are as able-bodied as myself to be working, so I'm just not understanding why any legitimately-disabled person is not insured. But that has always been a problem in our society, hasn't it? So those people encompass a certain percentage of the uninsured. Then there are people who do work, whose employers do not offer insurance benefits, as well as self-employed, freelance, or contract workers. They are faced with the choice of paying exorbitant premiums for non-group coverage, or simply remaining uninsured. I would imagine those two demographic groups comprise the majority of the uninsured. Without, of course, including the number of illegal residents, who in my opinion, shouldn't be factored in AT ALL in the group of uninsured Americans. They are not Americans, yet they place a gigantic burden on our health care system, and they are included in the numbers that the President uses when presenting the percentage of uninsured. ....ahh... but that's another topic for another day.... So, here we have the two groups of citizens who comprise the majority of uninsured: Those who, for whatever reasons, DO NOT work, and those who DO work but cannot afford healthcare premiums. Under Obamacare, everyone is going to be required to have insurance, or pay a fine. Now, those who DO NOT work, who cannot afford to pay for insurance now, STILL won't be able to afford insurance. Oh wait... they will be "given" a subsidy, so they can pay their premiums. Not sure of the logistics of that one yet, but nothing much will change for those folks. They will remain unemployed, and still won't contribute anything to society, yet they will have, without cost, the same health care that those of us who work (and pay premiums for) will have. Then there are those people who are hard workers, who pay their bills, who are productive citizens, yet can't afford coverage. Under the new plan, they will also be required to purchase insurance, or face a fine. What if they still can't afford the premiums? They will be fined. And don't kid yourself that the entire almost-four trillion dollar project will be paid for by insurance premiums. Oh no. It will be funded by taxes here, taxes there, taxes, taxes everywhere. The government can, and will, raise taxes anywhere they choose, to fund the insanity. So here we have a hard working young man and/or woman, trying to provide for their family, who now will be forced to pay an insurance premium (amount set by the government), or face a fine. And there's every possibility that they STILL won't be able to afford the premium because they are being taxed to death at every turn in the road. How will this help? Chances are, they'll be worse off than before. I am afraid that not only are we who opposed the plan in for a bum rap, but also the uninsured workers in this country who have supported the plan. I believe the empty promises they were fed are going to end up biting them in the butt... and it will be a bite felt 'round the country, as we all are going to suffer. The winners here? Those who will continue a life of subsidy... housing, food, health, free cell phones, etc. Lest I seem insensitive, I remind you that I'm a very compassionate person to those in need. My profession has afforded me the unpleasant opportunity to see people of all walks of life with true need, and dire circumstances. I've seen much heartbreak and true hardship. For the infirm and disabled, I am all for lending them a hand. For those who work hard and contribute to society, hats off.. and give credit where credit is due. Children and the elderly, who have no control over their circumstances, should be top of the list for receiving health care. Working-age adults who are too lazy to work??? Deserve no subsidy at all. They are a burden to our society and should not be given handouts, while you and I must punch a clock to fund our grocery bill and utilities. I just don't believe that Obamacare is the answer, and certainly not the ONLY answer. As I have written in the past, the 400 billion dollar a year fraud in Medicare and Medicaid could quite adequately fund healthcare for the uninsured. Use that money to fund public health departments. Subsidize one year of medical school in exchange for one year of service (during residency) in public health. Hire independent (not ACORN-type) agencies to determine on a case-by-case basis, Medicaid, Medicare, and Social Security Disability benefits for recipients. There just has to be another way.

And in the meantime, I wonder how uninsured working people who have supported Obamacare are feeling now? Unfortunately, even if they change their minds and oppose it, their voices won't be heard any more than mine. The decision is being made by people who are not like you and me. People who will not be directly affected by the change. I have yet to hear one member of congress who is willing to be under the Obamacare umbrella. That's because they know it's nothing but a naked metal frame umbrella... the fabric of protection having been eaten and rotted away in the form of taxes here, taxes there, taxes, taxes everywhere.

Mission: Little Green Machine

A new gadget has found its way to the top of my Must Have List. You may remember (but probably not... who remembers such a sillly thing as this??...) last year my favorite Black Friday purchase was a Bissell steam mop. That little baby has rocked my world. Now, you'll never hear my name associated with June Cleaver or Martha Stewart with regard to... well, with regard to anything... but especially with housekeeping talents. (I'd much rather play with Martha's line of scrapbook products than cook with her kitchenware or clean with her cleaning products.) But, oh! How I love my Bissell Steam Mop. Especially with two toddlers who are very messy eaters, and three adults who somehow seem to track and then grind into the floor every form of dirt imaginable. My once-beautiful, ceramic tile kitchen floor is constantly abused. But thanks to the steam mop, it is cleaned to perfection with very little effort (which is the BEST part!!!).

Now I have discovered another little green Bissell gadget that is desperately needed at The 409. A little mini upholstery-carpet cleaner thingy!!! Not only has my poor kitchen floor suffered greatly under the extra traffic, but the carpet throughout my house has taken an especially hard hit. I've had it professionally cleaned twice within a year, and once myself using Mary Kay's Monster Bissell Carpet Cleaner (which works great but will absolutely wear you out and took me all day!) Warning: After the first professional cleaning of your carpet, count on it getting nasty ten times faster than it did the first time. I guess cleaning it also strips the Stain Master stuff off of it. Anyway, the spots on my carpet have become a great source of anxiety for me, and vacuuming just puts me in a bad mood. But vacuum often we must, because Corey is still in the Billy Goat phase, and will put any and everything into his mouth. Including crumbs, bits of paper, yard debris, or whatever other foriegn objects happen to be loose on the carpet, so I'm just resigned to be in a perpetual bad-carpet-mood. So... whatever money I can find behind the sofa cushions, in the washing machine, at the bottom of my purse, in the sock drawer, etc. will be put in a jar in hopes of saving enough to pick up this handy dandy little power cleaner. And I'm hoping for another big sale at Kohl's and some coupons!

The reason I know that Kohl's carries this item is because I saw it my own personal self last night. I ran in to check on some 50% off Christmas jammies for the children. It was to be a quick dash in the store. My trip to Athens was for the sole purpose of going in Lowes and exchanging some shelves (yes... THOSE shelves, the ones I had such a hard time hanging) for the longer version. I was dressed in a long, comfy sweatshirt, sloppy jeans with paint stains, the ugliest shoes in the history of the world, and I hadn't shampooed my hair yet. I wouldn't be seeing anyone in Lowes, right? And if I did, I could point to my shelves and say I was in the middle of a construction project. BUT... then I decided I'd sneak into Kohl's. And wouldn't you know... I'd run into my (forever) mother-in-law and (forever) sister-in-law!!! As always, so nicely dressed and lovely... and here I am looking like the Blob-Slob From The Black Lagoon. Oh, and did I forget to mention that I had spilled ketchup all down the front of my long, comfy sweatshirt???

So how come it always happens. When I think I can sneak out without seeing anyone that I run into ex-boyfriends, family members who are way more dressed up than me, the bosslady from work, the pastor... you know... folks that you would prefer not see you looking that way? Well, I guess the moral of the story is, if I'm are too ashamed for my friends to see me looking so... ummm.... "comfy casual" we'll call it... then I guess I'd best just stay at home. Or at least change my clothes.

All was not a total loss, though, because I discovered The Little Green Machine. Maybe once I purchase one, I should use it on myself before I go out looking like that again....

And I really enjoyed talking to my SIL about how much better things would be if WE could be the boss of everything... and we discussed to such great depth and detail that by the time we finished, Lowes had barricaded the parking lot and shut the place down before I could exchange my shelves. How rude. Oh well... that just means another trip to town. I promise I'll clean up better before I go. And then of course I won't see a soul. But if you do see me on Friday, please tell me how gorgeous I look. And drop a few coins on the ground so I can find them and add them to my jar. I must have that Little Green Machine!!!

Trunk or Treat

Boo!!!! Goblins, Transformers, Princesses... Oh My!! It was a cool and rainy, then turning cold and rainy night for our annual Trunk or Treat at FBC Statham. Though the clouds never really broke, the rain did stop for a while early in the evening. Hundreds of Halloween visitors went from (car) trunk to trunk in search of frightful treats. I do believe they get cuter (and uglier...in a Halloweenish kind of way) every year! This year The Transformers was a hot costume, along with Disney princesses, little fairies, lady bugs, ninjas, pirates, and of course the scary, gross monster faces. My own little munchkins were by far the best thing about being a Georgia fan today.

This is probably my most favorite community ministry that we have at church. Bible School is great, Awana is awesome, but this is something that the parents of the children really get into as well, as they experience it along with their children, as opposed to just dropping them off and picking them up later. The great majority of them are always so polite. (I love to hear parents teaching their children to say "Thank You"!) This year we had twenty-something cars, many of them all decked out with fall and Halloween decorations, giving out yummy treats. Someone is always there to hand out a pamphlet that highlights our children's ministries, and church information, in hopes of bringing families with no church home into our family. Before heading out for more haunting the streets of our fair little town, we invite them to come by for hot dogs and drinks. This year we cooked around 1000 hot dogs for our spooky little guests and parents. I suppose because of the weather, and wanting to finish trick or treating and get home where it was warm again, we didn't have as many takers at the hot-dog stand as we had hoped. There were lots of dogs left over, but there's a concert tomorrow night, and we'll just heat 'em up and serve 'em afterwards. My other favorite thing about this event is how the church folks, people of all ages, come together and work as a team. There were maybe 40 or so adults there, young and old alike, working in the kitchen, handing out treats in the rain, serving food, cleaning up... how much fun is that!!! I do wish the weather had been nicer, not only for those of us who worked out in the rain, but especially for the kids (and their parents) who look so forward to enjoying the tradition of going from trunk to trunk, then from house to house, in search of the treats of the season. Even so, any time we can serve Jesus, even wet, soggy, and cold, and show kindness to His children, it can't be considered anything less than successful. Happy Halloween, everyone! BOO!!


PHOTOS: {I always forget and upload my pictures in the order I want you to view them. Which means the ones I want first end up on the bottom. Oh well. And if you've already seen these on Facebook, they're the same ones, so you don't hafta look unless you just want to see our beautiful people again! Sometimes you can click on the photos to enlarge, but it never seems to work for me. Give it a try and let me know if it works.}



First up are photos of pumpkins carved by the husband of one of our former members, Shari Holland. She had these posted on her Facebook from Trunk or Treat at her church, and I just love them and asked if I could share the phots. She said it takes him several days to do these, and I can certainly see why. There were four or five different ones, but these two were my favorites. Following Shari's pumpkin pictures are photos of my grandchildren, who didn't stay to Trunk or Treat with us, but stopped by for a few minutes on the way to Whitney's dad's to meet some friends and go out haunting in Oconee County. Then you'll finally see pictures of our event! Thanks for looking!!

Leyland and Mary

Corey

Leyland

CathyB - 1, Gremlins 947,613

I'm delighted to report that I have outsmarted the gremlins. Well, maybe not outsmarted them, they are still way ahead on the scoreboard, but I found the cards. The silly gremlins hid them in a little storage box thing that I don't even recall OPENING when I was at the church, much less putting the cards in there. But alas, I found the storage thingy underneath some other supplies, and as a last resort, I checked inside. After all, it was the only place I hadn't looked. And as I said, I don't even remember opening it, so I wasn't expecting them to be there. Yipee!! The gremlins did a great job hiding them from me, but at least they're not gone forever. So you can stop checking the hiding places of your gremlins for my missing cards. My gremlins didn't mail them to your gremlins.

It was fun, crafting in my room for the first time last night. I needed to finish up the cards, so I pulled out my card table, took a seat in my comfy rocker/glider, and had all my things right at hand. I think I'll do a lot more crafting now that I have everything out here.

I had only done the outtside of the cards, so I needed something on the inside. I had a cute little rubber stamp with some trick-or-treaters that I used for the inside, and heat-embossed the image. I attached the insert to the card using ribbon with spider webs on it. A year or so ago I found a guy on e-bay who makes personalized stamps for really cheap. I chose one that says "Handmade by CathyB" with two little kitties on it. (How perfect was that?? The kitties, I mean!) I heat embossed that on the back of the card, black-on-black. Here's what the cards look like: (Maybe you can click to enlarge... sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn't)

So today the cards are going out in the mail, hopefully to be receieved in time for Halloween by my special little ladies. Now it's time to start planning for their Thanksgiving and Christmas treats!!!

Gremlins Underfoot

Once again, the gremlins are busy at The 409. Absconding with random items. They take much pleasure in causing me distress when I can’t find what I’m looking for. No item is exempt from their frivolous games. One day it’s my car keys. That’s their favorite. The next day it’s the thingy I used to poof up my hair. It might be the can opener, or my mascara. For the past several days I have searched in vain for my stud-finder. (No, not some magic tool to find me a good-lookin’ man, but the little electronic thing that locates the 2 x 4s behind my walls.) I had it a few months ago while working on a project, and now it is gone. Once it was the USB cable to connect my small printer to my laptop. Every day is a new adventure for the gremlins. Today is no exception.

Each holiday season, I try to make little treats and cards for a special group of ladies at my church. It’s an elderly, but lively bunch, and they are such a joy to me, and an inspiration to so many, both in the church and the community. I have known a few of them ever since I can remember, and have been blessed to know the others for the past several years. It all started a few years ago when I decided that every girl needs to be remembered on Valentine’s Day. That year I got a list of all the widowed or never-married “girls” in my church, and sent them all a card. It was just a tiny little project, but I had no idea the impact it would make. Each one was so thrilled to have been remembered, that I sort of unofficially adopted the idea as an ongoing project for the ladies in Mr. Tommy’s Sunday School class. These ladies are the oldest… um, let’s don’t say that, let’s say WISEST ladies in my church, and they just get a kick out of being remembered by someone as young as myself. [cough.. sputter…]

Last Friday night was Girls’ (Scrapbook) Night Out. I was so proud of myself for carrying the smallest load of supplies that I have ever carried. Just two bags. [Well, four, if you count the two huge bags of scrapbook magazines that I carried to share. Hopefully Ken got the message to put those not adopted into the yard-sale pile. Otherwise they are still on a cart in the fellowship hall… oops…] Anyway, my project de jour on Friday was to make Halloween cards for The Girls. Took me eight hours to make eight stinkin’ cards. Well, to be honest, the entire eight hours wasn’t solely dedicated to the making of cards. There was the Set Up Factor, i.e. organizing my tools of the trade, my paper, embellishments, adhesives, etc., into a workable area. (And then packing them away again when the evening was done.) This in itself is a rather time-consuming project. (Yes, my scrapbooking friends are right… I am totally anal…) There was the Socializing Element… the talking with friends, looking at their tools/paper/embellishments/adhesives, etc., examining their projects de jour. And then of course there is the Eating Factor. The Eating Factor is an ongoing part of the evening, with multiple breaks throughout, spent enjoying a snack, a bowl of Marie’s chili, a leftover Subway sandwich for dinner, and a nice cup o’ Joe. The most daunting part of the project, though, is the Design Factor. I had in my mind exactly how I wanted to design the cards, I had all the paper, cutting tools, etc. needed to create the card. Well, wouldn’t you know it… the picture I had in my mind was nothing like the finished product. So it was back to the drawing board. Much time was spent with my elbows propped on the table, face resting in my palms, looking over my stash with glazed eyes. Finally I decided on a design, and spent a large amount of time at Debbie’s Cricut, cutting out haunted houses, ghosts and bats. I Cuttlebugged and embossed backgrounds of pumpkins on vines. All that was left was to assemble the cards and add a few sparkles (girl’s gotta have some bling) and the cards were complete. I packed up my small stash of stuff, cleaned up my mess and was home by midnight. All in all, it was quite a successful evening, and I was relatively happy with my creation, even if it didn’t end up like I had originally designed it in my head.

This morning, I searched through my desk drawer, rifling through all the receipts, writing instruments, one-armed glasses that I just can’t bring myself to throw away, various and sundry office supplies and gum wrappers, and finally located my postal stamps. Time to get those babies in the mail. I’m ready. Just need to put a few finishing touches on the cards during my lunch break, stuff them in the envelopes, and have them out in my mailbox in time for the postman to pick up this afternoon.

Now where did I put those cards? I’m sure I put them in the plastic bin that has all my fall embellishments. Nope.. not in there. Not stuck in between the stack of paper I used either. Not in the tote bag used to transport all my stuff. Whitney climbed in the attic to double check the tote bag for me. They are nowhere to be found. My cards are gone. They have totally disappeared. The gremlins must have liked them and wanted to send them out to their gremlin friends. You know, the ones that live in YOUR house. So be on the lookout for a hand-made Halloween card signed by The Gremlins at The 409.

The Pitter Patter Of Little Feet

No doubt, you expect this post to be about the pitter-pattering of my sweet grandbabies’ feet. And believe, me, that is a sweet sound. But for the past several days, the pitter-pattering I’ve been hearing is not from within the walls of my home, rather the roof over my head. The noise is coming, not from sweet baby feet, but from little tiny squirrel feet. You’d think they could romp effortlessly over the shingles without much noise. Evidently, the squirrels who live at The 409, are as avid eaters as we human occupants. Fat little boogers, they must be, to make such a racket. Yesterday I had to retrieve something from my car, and as I walked back inside, I noticed one of the varmints perched precariously at the edge of the roof, scavenging the gutter for treasured acorns. There are thousands of acorns on the ground. I wonder if the soggy ones in the gutter have a better flavor. Gourmet acorns, if you will. They must be pretty yummylicious, because the little fella kept diggin’ around for the longest time. Squirrels are actually cute little critters, and I rather enjoy watching them play. They chase each other across the yard and through the branches of trees, leaping from limb to limb. Though their antics seem a bit dangerous, I’ve never seen one hit the ground. They always manage to grab hold of a limb and live to play another day. I never particularly minded having them around, but a few summers ago, I bought myself some nice Spanish-moss-lined wire hanging flower basket thingies. And some high-priced Wave petunias to go inside them. Just gotta love those drooping, bountiful blooms. And of course only the best of potting soil would do. I was so excited to hang them on the front porch of my new (to me) house. They were beautiful!! “Were” being the operative word here. Once the squirrels discovered my freshly planted flowers, in the freshly purchased Miracle Gro potting soil, they decided to throw a squirrel party. Not only did they bury their winter treats in my hanging baskets, they took dirt baths in them. Have you ever seen a squirrel take a dirt bath? Here’s a visual for you: They begin by digging a little hole in the dirt, then diving nose first into the hole. Somehow using their furry little arms and legs, they then curl themselves into a ball and roll over and over in the dirt. My Miracle Gro dirt. Scattering it all over my front porch. My poor Wave petunias were the true casualties of this party, left to wither on the porch, in the bushes, or stubbornly hanging on for dear life inside the basket. It was a hanging basket massacre. I was livid. My neighbor Alex laughed and laughed. He had watched me carefully measure the soil and color-coordinate the petunias, and meticulously seat them in the baskets… and warned me about the squirrels. “No”, I assured him, “The squirrels won’t be able to get to my baskets.” Well. I guess he got the last laugh after all. Squirrels are mystical, magical creatures, they are, and like a mouse or a snake, can get anywhere their little squirrely hearts want to go. And this time they wanted to get in my baskets. I straightaway went to the store and bought some stuff called Critter Gone, or something of that nature. Hmph. Just a box of glorified moth balls is all that was. Works pretty good though, as long as one doesn’t mind one’s beautiful flowers smelling like moth balls. But back to the squirrels at hand… I’m sure these must be the ancestors of the flower-basket squirrels, intent on punishing me for putting a stop to the mutilation of the aforementioned baskets. This current family of squirrels is enjoying the crisp fall weather, cavorting about in my yard from tree to tree, and just doing what squirrels do. Their favorite place to play, though, is on my rooftop, scampering about sounding like a herd of cattle. Honestly, if it were Christmas time, I’d think it was “the prancing and pawing of each little hoof” that I am hearing. Oh well… I guess a little squirrel fun isn’t too bad. At least they sleep at night, and at least they’re just on the roof, and not in the attic. Ummm… Alex, you DID put those screens over my attic vents, didn’t you???

Garden Snakes Can Be Dangerous!

Snakes also known as Garter Snakes (Thamnophissirtalis ) can be dangerous. Yes, grass snakes, not rattlesnakes. Here's why.A couple in Sweetwater , Texas , had a lot of potted plants. During a recent cold spell, the wife was bringing a lot of them Indoors to protect them from a possible freeze. It turned out that a little green garden grass snake was hidden in one of the plants. When it had warmed up, it slithered out and the wife saw it go under the sofa. She let out a very loud scream. The husband (who was taking a shower) ran out into the living room naked to see what the problem was. She told him there was a snake under the sofa. He got down on the floor on his hands and knees to look for it.. About that time the family dog came And cold-nosed him on the behind. He thought the snake had bitten him, so he screamed and fell over on the floor. His wife thought he had had a heart attack, so she covered him up, told him to lie still and called an ambulance. The attendants rushed in, would not listen to his protests, loaded him on the stretcher, and started carrying him out. About that time, the snake came out from under the sofa and the Emergency Medical Technician saw it and dropped his end of the stretcher. That's when the man broke his leg and why he is still in the hospital. The wife still had the problem of the snake in the house, so she called on a neighbor who volunteered to capture the snake. He armed himself with a rolled-up newspaper and began poking under the couch. Soon he decided it was gone and told the woman, who sat down on the sofa in relief. But while relaxing, her hand dangled in between the cushions, where she felt the snake wriggling around. She screamed and fainted, the snake rushed back under the sofa. The neighbor man, seeing her lying there passed out, tried to use CPR to revive her. The neighbor's wife, who had just returned from shopping at the grocery store, saw her husband's mouth on the woman's mouth and slammed her husband in the back of the head with a bag of canned goods, knocking him out and cutting his scalp to a point where it needed stitches. The noise woke the woman from her dead faint and she saw her neighbor lying on the floor with his wife bending over him, so she assumed that the snake had bitten him. She went to the kitchen and got a small bottle of whiskey, and began pouring it down the man's throat. By now, the police had arrived. Breathe here...They saw the unconscious man, smelled the whiskey, and assumed that a drunken fight had occurred. They were about to arrest them all, when the women tried to explain how it all happened over a little garden snake! The police called an ambulance, which took away the neighbor and his sobbing wife. Now, the little snake again crawled out from under the sofa and one of the policemen drew his gun and fired at it. He missed the snake and hit the leg of the end table. The table fell over, the lamp on it shattered and, as the bulb broke, it started a fire in the drapes. The other policeman tried to beat out the flames, and fell through the window into the yard on top of the family dog who, startled, jumped up and raced into the street, where an oncoming car swerved to avoid it and smashed into the parked police car. Meanwhile, neighbors saw the burning drapes and called in the fire department. The firemen had started raising the fire ladder when they were halfway down the street. The rising ladder tore out the overhead wires, put out the power, and disconnected the telephones in a ten-square city block area (but they did get the house fire out). Time passed! Both men were discharged from the hospital, the house was repaired, the dog came home, the police acquired a new car and all was right with their world. A while later they were watching TV and the weatherman announced a cold snap for that night. The wife asked her husband if he thought they should bring in their plants for the night. And that's when he got up, packed his bags and left her.

Kudos to the White House Pool

Despite the continued efforts of the White House to discredit the FOX News Network as a legitimate source of news, it seems to be backfiring. You know the old saying "any advertisement, even bad advertisement, is good advertisement". I think smart folks everywhere surely must be realizing... if the Obama administration is so tore up over what's going on at FOX, they must be reporting things that Obama doesn't want us to know. Ya know? If they were a "nothing" network, nobody would be worrying about them. You hear no White House objections to CNN and MSNBC.... liberal-oriented networks. The fact that our President is sitting on his keester, (or "asslin around" as my Uncle Gene says) about getting reinforcement troops into Afghanistan, while in the midst of pushing hotly debated Obamacare, yet allows his administration to become embroiled in a school-yard equivalent of name calling and finger pointing at a constitutionally-protected entity... well that shows me that my friends at FOX are on to something. Finally, an NBC anchorwoman point-blank asked him:
GUTHRIE: So you think it's appropriate for the White House to say what is and what is not a news organization?
BARACK OBAMA: I think the American people are a lot more interested in what we're doing to create jobs or how we're handling the situation in Afghanistan.
GUTHRIE: Fair enough, but your advisers raised this issue.
OBAMA: Well, no, I think that what our advisers have simply said is that we are going to take media as it comes. And if media is operating basically as a talk-radio format, then that's one thing, and if it's operating as a news outlet, then that's another. But it's not something I'm losing a lot of sleep over.

Huh???? PULEEEZE. If he's not losing sleep over it, why is he willing to take the flack about allowing it to happen in the first place? You gotta bet that somebody is losing some serious sleep over the fact that a "talk show radio format" network is powerful enough to result in billions of dollars of funding being revoked from ACORN, the resignation of one of Obama's czars, and bringing to light many, many other dispicable activities occuring daily over on Pennsylvania Avenue. And though I am a fairly new FOX watcher, I believe that their watch-dog format didn't just start during the Obama campaign. I've heard many negative comments about former Republican administrations as well. I think they gave Bush a pretty hard time too.

Do you know who controls the airways? The Federal Government does. That's what the FCC is. They can shut a station down in more ways than one. So it's no wonder that the main stream networks don't want to get on "the enemy list" of the Administration. Regardless of the protection offered by the constitution, they must tread carefully and promote a positive spin. I've long said the media runs this country, and Big Brother runs the media. And now they're trying to run FOX all the way outta town. (Smells a little bit like media censorship to me!)

Network television is a very competitive industry. Don't believe me... check out Sweeps Week. The network news shows are no different. It seems, though, that most reporters have a code of ethics that they share, regardless of which network signs their paychecks. A brotherhood, if you will. There's something called the White House Pool of network reporters that consists of five networks. Today the White House announced that the "pay czar", Ken Feinberg, would grant an interview with the pool. All were invited to attend except FOX News. Hmmm... another playground tactic. You know what happened then? As competetive as networks are, the other pool members banded together and said No. If the WH wouldn't let FOX be a part of it, then none of them would participate. The White House relented and allowed FOX. So for that I say Kudos to White House Pool of news reporters. You could have gloated, and gone ahead and got your story, but you did the right thing. Maybe you secretly wish YOUR boss would let YOU do stories like they do on FOX!! Anyway. Good for you. Way to band together, and stand up for and demand freedom of press.

Orphans Of God

Songs In My Head. For as long as I can remember, music has been a great influence in my life. As a teenager, many hours were spent in my room weeping to the strains of a sad song when my heart was broken, dancing with abandon when feeling happy, or doing my homework with the radio turned down low. It was impossible to drive anywhere without the radio blaring in the car. My mom had this really groovy console stereo system with an 8-track player and an LP turntable in it that we loved to crank up. Whenever she was in a bad mood, I’d go load up the turntable with Sonny James, Charlie Pride, Ray Price, Tammy Wynette… and sing at the top of my lungs. Before long, I’d see my mom’s foot tappin’, and pretty soon she’d be singin' too, and forget all about why she was grumpy. At least until the albums were finished playing. Late in the day, when the weather was nice, as a bribe to let me play my music (or “racket”, as they called it), I would offer to wash the dinner dishes if mom and dad would go outside in the yard. (okay, so I was the dumb one for thinking I was the winner here…. Haha) I have always had a stereo within my reach, either in my bedroom, my car, or my living room. Chores were always done with more vim and vigor if I had some good funky music filling the house. My tastes range from classical to classic rock. Somewhere between those two genre preferences, you’ll find old-timey gospel, Christian rock, contemporary Christian, Christmas instrumentals, some hard rock n’ roll, a smattering of country, 70s-80s pop/rock. And I love me some Departure! What you won’t find is rap, very little blues, absolutely NO swing, no hip-hop. Maybe one or two metal songs will find their way into my playlist, but none of the screaming death-metal stuff that is popular nowadays. For the past few years, my poor music collection has, for the most part, gone untouched. When Whitney and her family moved in, I packed up all but a small collection of my favorite CDs. I know that when I unpack the boxes I’ll be like a kid at Christmas, so happy to see my old friends! Because of a crazy work schedule for the past several years, and now having little ones underfoot, it’s a rare occasion when I turn up the volume and jam to good music at home any more. And for some strange reason, I find myself preferring silence while I am driving as opposed to jammin’ in my car. Isn’t it funny how things change as we age. Not to say that I enjoy music any less… not at all, it just doesn’t seem as crucial to me as food and drink like it once did. Of all the collection of music that I have, it continues to amaze me (and often distresses me) that the Songs In My Head… you know the ones that loop through your brain for hours on end… are not those that bring me such joy. It is songs like “We’re your best friends… The Backyardigans”… “I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family”… or “D-D-D-Dora, D-D-D-Dora” and then all the songs that go along with the little videos. Dora, Barney, The Backyardigans, The Veggie Tales, etc. I can sing the theme songs for nearly all the channel 8 children’s shows.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. The fact that these shows and songs are on my TV pretty much 18 hours of the day can only mean one thing, and that is that my precious grandbabies live in my house. That I would not change. (Well, maybe under the right circumstances I would change it, but I enjoy having them here SOOO much…) It would be nice, though, if my brain could have something else circulating through the neurons and nerve synapses other than “ta-ra-ra-boon-de-yay” (what kind of stupid song is that anyway???)

Today as I was working, Dora, Barney, Pablo, Larry the Cucumber, Caillou, and a myriad of other characters flowing freely through my head, I decided enough is enough. I went to my other computer, opened my playlist to put on some “work music”, namely selections by Il Divo. I like to listen to that while I work, because the words are in different languages that I can’t understand. If I understand the words, I want to sing along. That doesn’t bode well when transcribing someone’s medical reports. I’m sure they don’t want their operative note to read “oh my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch, a long, lonely time….” So it’s best that I stick with music that I can’t sing along with.

While at my Il Divo playlist, I saw my non-working playlist, and decided my brain needed a break from work, and clicked on the first song, called Orphans of God. Let me tell you about this song. I sing with a group of girls at church sometimes, and we try to find fresh, unique selections. Someone got the track for this song by Avalon. Last year when I was decorating for Leyland’s birthday party, I was alone, and had the track with me. I put it on the CD player while I was working, and absolutely fell in love with the MUSIC portion of the number. Without the words, I was able to hear the beautiful, rich, full chords of the instruments, and after a while, it was as though I could just “feel” the music in me. Does that ever happen to you?? It was my new favorite song. Later, when I had the sheet music with the words on it, I was blown away. This is the most perfect song ever. I don’t know of even one person who can’t identify with this. Well, maybe an agnostic or an atheist, but I can’t see how anyone who is even a tiny bit of a believer of God, anyone who can and will acknowledge His grace and His love, couldn’t be moved by the words to this song. When I saw it there in my playlist, I just had to have me an Avalon “fix” and listen. I listened several times. It is so uplifting, so encouraging to know that no matter how we have fallen, no matter how unloved or unwanted or weary we are, that He is there. People have differing levels of relationships with God, but no matter where you are, it is the perfect song. I hope you will click on this link and take a listen for yourself. Lyrics below, but if possible, listen also so you can “feel” the music. It adds so much to the words. I so needed this reminder today, and I’m so glad that I took a moment to listen.

Orphans of God
Who here among us has not been broken
Who here among us is without guilt or pain
So oft abandoned by our transgressions
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

There are no strangers, there are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen but hallelujah!
There are no orphans of God.

Come ye unwanted and find affection
Come all ye weary, come and lay down your head
Come ye unworthy, you are my brother
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah!
There are no orphans of God

Oh blessed Father look down upon us
We are your children we need your love
We run before your throne of mercy
And seek your face to rise above

There are no strangers….

Amen, and amen!

My Other Birthday

Today is my "other" birthday. For 32 years, due to a typo on my driver's license when I turned 16, my "official/unofficial" birthday was 10-18-58. For those of you born after the technology age, you might be surprised to learn that the DMV operated differently back in the olden days. You were issued a temporary paper license, and waited several weeks for the much-coveted plastic version that officially registered you as driver in training. No such thing as punching a few buttons and getting your spiffy new plastic license in the blink of an eye. No... we waited endless days and weeks for its arrival. And couldn't wait to show all our friends!! In those days getting your "Learner's License" was the highlight of every 15-year-old kid, and we were worse than children at Christmas. There were only certain days of the month that the patrol officers would come to Winder, so you couldn't just run down there any day of the week to do it. When the appointed day came, our parents must lay aside whatever tasks were before them to ensure that we made it to the courthouse. With our hearts pounding in our chests, we filled out the application, and whatever else was required, showed our birth certificate, and oblivious to the panic and trepidation in our parents' eyes, celebrated our rite of passage as though it was the grandest thing ever. The (temporary) mother lode of independence, if you will.

A year or so later, after many hours of navigating the roads of our small town for practice (a feat which resulted in many grey haired moments for our moms, and many lectures from our dads), we set out for the loftiest prize of all... the permanent mother lode of independence.... the license that would allow us to drive ALONE, without nervous moms and high-strung dads in the car with us. What a moment! Though we were cocky and confident that we were invincible and could hold our own with any NASCAR driver on the circuit, I imagine that if we all confessed, we were scared out of our britches when the time came to actually turn the key and head out of our driveway. We didn't give one thought to our moms and dads at home praying, crying, worrying incessantly about us until we returned home. (An emotion with which we now, as parents ourselves, can identify as we watched our own kids drive away that first time!)

After impatiently checking the post-office box daily for several weeks, the ecstatic moment at long last had arrived. My beautiful, treasured, plastic-encased license to drive was finally in my eager little hands! While poring over the front of it, I noticed that my birthdate had been typed incorrectly. I was horrified!!! While only five days off, I was still distraught that the DMV had made me five days younger than I actually was. When you're 16, every day of life experience counts, and I didn't want to be cheated out of any of my days! My mom consoled me tirelessly, and finally convinced me that it didn't really matter to a hill o' beans, and we'd just get it fixed when it was time for renewal. Well..... even back in the olden days, nothing is easy with the government. The DMV wouldn't budge. Without a birth certificate, they absolutely wouldn't give me back my five days. By then, I was over the trauma, and conceded that maybe it really wasn't the end of the world, and I'd just bring my birth certificate next time. If your life is anything like ours, you probably guessed by now, that I never did get the birth certificate to the DMV. We always forgot about it until time to go for renewal, which was always an inopportune time to get to the bank safety-deposit box to retrieve said birth certificate. So for years, my official birthdate was 10-18-58. It totally became less of an issue as I got older, except for sometimes restaurants will give you a free meal or cake and ice cream on your birthday, but other than that it was no biggie, and I went for 32 years with the incorrect DOB on my license.

During one of my recent moves/house-rearranging projects, I came across an old scrapbook containing memorabilia from my teen years. You know the sort, cheerleading letters, movie stubs, prom invitations, and the like. What fun it was to peruse through the faded pages and take a trip down memory lane. Imagine my delight to find those original paper licenses, both for my learner's permit and my permanent license! It was then that I had a light-bulb moment.... surely if I took both of these "documents" to my next renewal, the DMV would have no choice but to change the date. After all, it was their typo. Typos is my business. (haha) My evaluation depends on at least 98% accuracy (which does NOT, I might add, carry over to my blog posts.... I'm just sayin'.....), so I figured they should be responsible for their typo and not expect me to bear the burden of proof of my actual birth date.

Shortly after Leyland was born, and after her first hospitalization, I was pulled over by a motorcycle cop for not having my tag renewed. Knowing what he was stopping me for, I was so proud of myself to reach into the dash and pull out my tag sticker, and explain to the officer that I was a brand new grandma, and the sweet little pumpkin had just been released from the hospital. I had purchased my tag in a timely fashion, just in all the hooplah that was my life, I had failed to apply the sticker to my tag. The officer was not impressed. I think he was upset because I actually did have my sticker. He looked at me with those mean policeman eyes, and without cracking a smile told me that my license had expired. I just grinned sweetly and said "You're kidding". "No, ma'am, I'm not kidding." The date was November 1. My birthday is October 13. Okay, so my license had expired, and my tag sticker wasn't applied. And he had absolutely no pity on me regarding my distress over my sick grandbaby. As I exited the vehicle to apply my tag sticker, Mr. Glaring Policeman, was busy writing me a ticket for an expired license. .....sigh..... At least I had a current insurance and registration cards. He probably would have handcuffed me and taken me to jail. The meanie.

Now forced to go to the DMV for license renewal, I took the brittle, faded license papers with me. The associate behind the counter looked at me as though I had brought her the Dead Sea Scrolls. She didn't even know what it was. I explained to her that back in the days of the Pony Express and shortly after the invention of the light bulb, that we had a waiting period for our license and, yes, these were legally accepted forms of identification that permitted us to navigate a motor vehicle on all roads, dirt and paved. I explained the discrepancy in the dates, and with all my charm and sweetness, finally convinced her that it was a DMV error, and my birth certificate was located in a safety deposit box far, far away (well, Winder would be far, far away from the DMV Office in Athens if you didn't HAVE a license, and had to walk.....). After showing my antiquated papers to her equally-amazed colleagues, she/they finally agreed that my new license could finally proclaim my correct DOB. Hallelujah. However there was a catch. They had to issue the license in my maiden name. Not just my last name, but the entire name. I told them my legal name is Cathy, and it would be confusing to have my entire name on there. She wouldn't give an inch. She gave me a cockamamie story about Homeland Security requiring our official govt-issued identification be exactly as whatever legal documentation we have to prove otherwise. In my case, for that particular day, it was my original licenses. I suppose this would mean that instead of my birth certificate, I would have needed to provide divorce papers and a court amendment. Good grief. So. In essence, I have traded in the correct date of birth for a license that now calls me Linda Catherine Watkins Bennett. Oh well. At least I got my five days back. Happy "other" birthday to me. I'm sure there will be cake and presents.

Why Dogs Hate Halloween

Thanks for sharing, Diane!!!

THE HILL Looks A Lot Steeper (on the down side of 50!)

Over The Hill. I passed that milestone last year, when I turned half-century old. What an interesting half-century it was. It really is kind of like a roller coaster. You know, that first hill you climb ever so slowly. You seem to hesitate for a moment at the very top, and then you go barelling down the other side of the hill, a hundred times faster than you went up it. There must be some rule or law in physics that mandates the passage of time move at warp speed the older we get. Remember when you were a kid, and Christmas took like four and a half years to come around again? The other day I came across a roll of Sesame Street wrapping paper that I swear I used just last week to wrap gifts for the children. And now here we are again at the threshold of another holiday season. Where does it go? At some point on that roller coaster ride, we find ourselves at the point of "zero gravity" where we are suspended in mid-air somewhere between the safety bar and the seat. (Well, okay... I will admit that the size of my butt has made my "zero gravity" experience less and less over the years... but you skinny folks will know what I'm talking about...). The moment of weightlessness where there is no rhyme or reason to just how it is that we are floating in mid air. I seem to have moments like that every day, and there's not a roller coaster within miles of me. Dare I refer to them as Senior Moments? When, for the life of me, I can't remember what I was looking for, I lose my train of thought in mid-sentence, and worst of all, if I am lucky enough to remember what it was I was looking for, you can bet I'll never find it. I'm sure I put it in a safe place somewhere so I could locate it easily the next time I need it. No rhyme or reason. One of these days when it is time for Whitney to put me in the Old Folks' Home, and we're moving my junk out of the house, I will find all those misplaced items. I won't remember what they are, or what I intended to use them for, or why they were hidden in such a place, but oh yes, I imagine we'll have a nice Lost & Found box. So why is it that time passes by so much quicker as we get older? Are we just crazy busy, with too much to do and not enough hours in the day to do it? I wonder, does it whiz by as quickly when you retire? Or does life slow down a little bit once you don't have to work a 40-50 hour week any more? I've often heard people say, once they retire, that they stay so busy they don't know how they ever had time to work. Yeah, I could totally see me being that way too. But in the meantime, I'll stay on the roller coaster, digging in my heels, trying to make the other side of that hill not quite so steep and slow it down a bit. Holding on for dear life when the ride is rough, and holding my hands high in the air during the fun parts. It's wierd, thinking about the circle of life, growing up from a baby, being a teenager, becoming an adult, becoming a parent and a grandparent. That's a lot of livin' in 50 years. Well, 51 to be exact. I just wonder what life will bring, on this the downhill side of 50?

Peace Out! (The "Huhs?" Heard Round The World)

Last night I slept in my very own bed for the first time in a week. My first night back from the beach I slept on the sofa to be near Leyland's room if she awoke during the night. The following night I slept in a recliner in the hospital room with Corey. Last night found me feeling a bit rough around the edges, with thoughts of the flu hanging low over my head, but happy to be back in my own bed. As usual, I fell asleep listening to the Fox News Channel. After Mr. Sandman finally paid me a visit, it was off to dreamland for me. My dreams run the gamut of silly, nonsensical vignettes to wonderful moments of tropical paradise, to the downright scary sort. Sometimes I remember them, sometimes I don't. Upon awakening this morning, I found myself chuckling at the memory of a most unlikely dream. I could clearly hear in my subconcious mind the voice of my friends in the Fox studio, the report that Barak Obama had won the Nobel Peace Prize. Dreams are sometimes funny, aren't they??

Oh wait..... imagine my surprise to learn that it wasn't a silly, nonsensical (though definitely scary) REM-induced vision, but rather a nonsensical reality!

Where did this come from? Obama, nominated after a mere ELEVEN days in office, wasn't even in the top three contenders. Could this perhaps be a consolation prize from our Scandinavian friends for not winning the 2016 Olympic bid? Reports from all over the world are resounding with a big "HUH?"

The NPP has been awarded to our President based on "extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation". Oh, Yes. He has indeed put forth an effort to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation. Few would probably argue with that. It is his method of "effort" that leaves most of us in appalled disbelief. Diplomacy does not mean apology. He has gone around the world apologizing for America's "arrogance, dismissiveness, and derisiveness", bowing to the king of Saudi Arabia, demeaning the character of our nation, while aligning himself to leaders of terrorist countries. They say he is being awarded for his "intention" to ban nuclear arms and promote a nuclear-free world. Ummm, no. He isn't doing that. He is too busy making himself available to sit down with Ahmadinejad, Chavez and Castro without preconditions. Too busy kissing up to these abominable leaders to sit down and talk with his own appointed commander of the war in Afghanistan. Too busy questioning the experience of the three top military advisors on their recommendations to sit down and talk with them. "No rush", he says, while too busy RUSHING congress to vote on a health care bill that has yet to even be written. Too busy pushing a problem-riddled total overhaul of the health care system that will change life as we know it, to FIX the acknowledged billions of fraud in the insurance system that is already run by the government. Too busy trying to hide the resumes and belief systems of the czars he has appointed to advise him. Too busy breaking his promise of transparent government made during his campaign. Too busy promoting anything BUT peace in his own country by standing back and allowing American citizens (demoncrats, republicans, libertarians, independents) including and especially members of his own cabinet to fight a bloody battle over racism, indoctrination, and socialism. Too busy letting the limelight fall on one (albiet rude) representative who shouted "You Lie!", when in fact he WAS lying, since the constitution does provide protection for illegals. Too busy destroying the work carried out for decades by MLK and his followers to promote equal rights, by allowing racism to escalate to heights not seen in years.

To put it in perspective: Michael Jackson has been nominated for the 2010 award.

Ghandi was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize five times. He never won.

I guess the next order of business will be petitioning the pope for sainthood.

Swine Flu

Today I received some distressing news from home. Corey has swine flu!! Yesterday he had diarrhea, this morning had a fever and some vomiting. He saw the doctor today, who quickly diagnosed him with H1N1. Fortunately, we had been to the office a few weeks ago and they were downplaying it, saying lots of kids were coming in with it and so far all had responded well to Tamiflu. Miss Cheryl even told Whitney not to tell me, knowing that I was several hundred miles from home. By the time she picked up Leyland from Randy's house, she (Leyland) was having diarrhea as well, and both kids had poopy pants by the time they got home. As if things weren't bad enough, upon arriving home, Whitney realized she had locked herself out of the house. Fortunately, DJ has a set of keys to my house. Fortunately I have a set of keys to her house. Fortunately, Whitney had my keys (which unfortunately didn't have a key to my room or to the deadbolt). After I remembered this tiny detail, I called and she was able to go to DJs and get keys and get into the house. What an day!! They were feeling better by late afternoon, but tonight Corey didn't want his bedtime bottle, and threw up immediately after getting his medicine. Hopefully he'll be able to keep down another dose. Please keep them all in your prayers. She is insisting that we not come home - yet - but I won't be surprised if we pack it up early and head home earlier than planned, especially if Whitney and Dustin get sick too. She said we'd probably be better off staying here, so maybe we can avoid getting it. I sure don't want mom and dad to catch it! Sure is hard being away when my family is sick!

Greetings from Under the Umbrella

If I believed in the multiple-life theory, I'd say my former life was definitely one of a beach bum. It takes very little to entertain me and keep me happy in these, my early golden years. A beach umbrella, a comfy chair and a good book (or not), a day without rain, and I'm good to go. Ahhh life at the beach is fabulous. So far every day we have slept late, lolled about drinking coffee until after the noon hour. Afternoons spent on the beach, dinner at the townhouse, and evenings watching tv. Certainly not the normal touristy things, but then again we're not tourists. We rather refer to ourselves as part-time residents. I'm a 1/52 MB resident! Today was a cool, rainy day, which made sleeping in even more enjoyable. The afternoon was spent shopping, where I scored a new dress and new purse. Thank you Aunt Joyce and Mom! Such a lazy day... we napped the rest of the afternoon away, had a late dinner of homemade chicken stew, and now just enjoying some tv and laptop time.

Now about my umbrella... A few years ago DJ and I came over here for a scrapbook marathon. During our stay, my beautiful beach umbrella bailed on me. Totally bit the dust. I fought a good battle, trying to make it work, but finally gave up and tossed it in the trash. I was so sad. DJ laughed and laughed at me, and took all sorts of unflattering pictures of me fighting with my (beautiful) umbrella. I'm all about a pretty beach umbrella, and have made terrible fun of my dad for sitting under the ugliest beach umbrella of all time... for many years. (Thankfully, he bought a new one, actually a patio umbrella that makes a honkin' huge patch of shade... so I can't make fun of him any more.) I'm very happy to say that this year I am once again the proud owner of the prettiest umbrella on the beach. Sometimes I'll feed Kobe and KoKo when DJ and David are out of town. After one such time, 'the boys' presented me with thank-you gift... a pink and green beach umbrella!!! The photo above was taken lying on my back from underneath its cover. Fabulous. I am missing my grandbabies, but otherwise it is truly the perfect vacation.

Birthday Party Meltdown

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEYLAND!!!!

The video I posted yesterday (Charlie Bit Me) is one of the cutest I've seen. It goes without saying, though, that the pictures and videos of my precious grandchildren are THE cutest ones ever!! Here's the birthday girl wearing her Birthday Girl shirt and sporting her backpack this morning when she went with Mommy to run some errands. Below is a cute little video of The Birthday Party Meltdown. A little history: At her first and second birthday parties, Leyland would cry whenever we sang Happy Birthday to her. She was okay to sing it to other folks on their birthdays, but for some reason, she would cry when it was her turn to be the birthday girl. This year, though, she seemed to be quite excited about it! Her mom put her down for a nap early on the afternoon of her birthday, knowing that a nap-deprived toddler doesn't make for a pleasant afternoon for anyone. Even Princens get grumpy without a nap. A few minutes later, she called out for a drink, and as I was taking it to her room, I could hear her in there singing Happy Birthday to Curious George, Barney, Elmo, and some of her other stuffed friends. She laughed when I walked in and started singing Happy Birthday to Greemaw. So, we were hopeful that the birthday song wouldn't send her over the edge this time around. She was very sweet all afternoon, and really enjoyed opening her presents, and being the Party Princen. When it came time to light the candles and sing the birthday song, she was so excited!! All was going well until.... well, watch for yourself...

Poor Peyton was so upset!! She was crying just as hard as Leyland! In the end, though, everyone was happy, everyone had a turn blowing out candles, and they all lived happily ever after. Just the way it is supposed to be for little princesses everywhere. Happy Birthday, sweet pea. Greemaw loves you so very much!!!

Charlie Bit Me!!!

This is one of the cutest videos I have ever seen. Whitney and I have watched it a zillion times and it just gets cuter. Be sure to turn up the speakers, and listen closely. Sweet little English accent just makes it cuter. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM

Princen Party

Leyland's birthday is Tuesday. We celebrated today with a Princen Party down at the church. In case you don't remember, "princen" is Leyland's word for "princess". Oh yeah, she's in full Princen mode these days. It was a lovely day with lots of family and friends on hand to celebrate the day. I'm posting a few pictures here. There are more on my Facebook page. Click to enlarge.

A Very Tired Birthday Princess!

I Pledge Allegiance

For those of you over a certain age, do you remember how you started the day when you were in school? First there would be roll call. On Mondays you’d turn in your $1.25 lunch money for the week. Then what? Everyone (and I mean everyone) in the classroom would stand at attention beside our desks, place our hands over our hearts, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. And before we sat down, we would bow our heads, and everyone would recite the Lord’s Prayer. Just another fond memory of The Good Old Days. Were there children from non-Christian homes in class? I’m quite sure there were. Did their parents come down with clenched fists, attorneys in tow, threatening to call the ACLU? Nah, most kids I know just recited it and accepted it as something you do. Part of the school day. In the small world in which I grew up, most families I knew went to church, and believed in God, regardless of what they might do on Saturday night. And for the ones who didn’t, nobody ever objected to reference to God or the Pledge to the Flag… my goodness, we even had a Bible Lady who came into the schools!!! How we loved the Bible Lady with her felt storyboards, which she magically turned into beautiful scenes from well-loved Bible stories. Learn John 3:16 and get yourself a New Testament. I always had my eye on that sparkling, glitter-laden wall motto (and I still like sparkly things!), but I never memorized enough scripture to earn it.

Times have surely changed, and while it is certainly the American, even the God-given right of any individual to accept or reject the existence of God, as well as a personal relationship with Him, it has long been more about politics than about religion. Or perhaps the mixture thereof. Regarding the Pledge thing, I learned only recently of a Supreme Court ruling back in the 1940s that said a person could not be “forced” into reciting the Pledge of Allegience. Back then, it was not the “under God” part of the text that gave cause for concern, (quite the opposite) rather the idea of “pledging” oneself to something OTHER than God, i.e. to the Republic or the Flag. Some people felt that to do so was to put another entity above God. Being a believer and follower of God myself, I guess I can kind of see that, although it never occurred to me that I might be undermining my “pledge” to God by pledging allegiance to my country, or the flag that represents her. In my mind, God is God is God and comes before and above my allegiance to anything else… ever. However- it is indeed a law that school children can’t be forced to stand and recite the pledge. That makes me sad. In the olden days we were taught morals, and were taught to love and respect our nation. Our President was someone to be looked upon with honor. Hopefully some of us also learned this at home too, and our mamas and daddys taught us to stand respectfully, with our hands over our hearts when we said The Pledge, or sang the National Anthem. It is such a powerful feeling, that even to this day I get a lump in my throat whenever I say The Pledge, or when I sing the National Anthem. At my church we will sing patriotic songs around July 4th, Memorial Day, Veteran’s Day. It is always a struggle to get the words out, because my throat constricts with that powerful feeling of love of country (in spite of all her problems today). The feeling of gratitude for my forefathers who bled and died to ensure our freedom and liberty. The feeling of sadness for families today who miss their loved ones as they serve our nation far from home.

I suppose the point of this post is to encourage young parents to please instill in your children the HONOR and PRIVILEGE to pledge their allegiance to this Republic and The Flag that represents our nation. It takes nothing away from your commitment to God. (Kids won’t even understand that anyhow.) Teach them that saying The Pledge is not a “duty” at school, like learning and reciting math formulas, but rather a way to show love and respect to a nation that (again, in spite of her problems today), is the best place on earth to live.

Parents, teach your kids to say The Pledge. When my grandchildren are just a bit older, I hope to have a little routine, like Whitney did in daycare, to pause for a moment, say a prayer, say The Pledge, and sing little songs to learn the days of the week. Teach them young so that it is a part of their lives, and when they go to school and find out that they don’t “have to say it”… that will seem a foreign concept to them. If you don’t teach them at home, when they get to school and find out they don’t “have to say it”, then how many of them do you think will take the time to learn it, and what will it mean to them? Especially when most of them will have seen that our current President holds exhibiting that manner of patriotism with such little regard.

And for those folks who don’t want to say it because your forefathers lived in caves and oppressed your female ancestors, or because your ancestors worked as slaves on a plantation, or because it goes against what you learned in the Koran, or if it offends your motherland, whether you arrived in this country through Ellis Island, or whether you came here illegally…. My thought is this: If you are sitting in an American classroom, paid for by American tax dollars, then if you won’t pledge your allegiance to this country, (and if you won’t go back to where you came from), you should at least drop your head and pray to whomever you pray to and thank your god for the opportunity to sit in that classroom, free of charge, and obtain an education. And you should keep your mouth shut if others in the classroom saying The Pledge offends you.

A few squeaky wheels were responsible for getting The Lord’s Prayer taken out of schools. There’s already a law protecting those who don’t want to say The Pledge. How many squeaky wheels (or ACLU attorneys) will it take to have The Pledge banned from our classrooms???

Oh Jimmy!

I've been called many things in my life, recently including a "terrorist". (here) But now the former President of the United States, a good ol' boy from Georgia, has called me a racist. Not me personally, not by name, but by virtue of generalization. He said "I think an overwhelming portion of the intensely demonstrated animosity toward President Barack Obama is based on the fact that he is a black man, that he's African-American," Carter told "NBC Nightly News."

Get Out. Granted, there will always be those few who don't want him to be President because he is black. This goes back to many of my posts during the election campaigns. (That is supposed to be a BAD thing, while it is okay that zillions of black people voted for him only BECAUSE he is black. What's the difference? Racism is Racism.)

However. Disagreeing with with government policy doesn't make me a racist any more than it makes me a terrorist. I didn't agree with everything George Bush did. Does that make me a... racist against.... my own race? Seriously. You didn't see the Bush administration pulling the race card every time a black person criticized him. And believe me, that administration took its share of criticism. And still does.

Interestingly, the Chairman of the RNC is a black man. He disagrees with Carter, and states that those so quick to pull that race card are doing more harm to President Obama than they are good.

Ya'll "Racism" folks need to just get over it. We don't like his policy. I wouldn't like the policy if Ward Cleaver, Andy Griffeth, John Wayne or Charlton Heston were the president.

There are too many other urgent matters on the table to be wasting time on playing the race card, especially with the Joe Wilson thing. I'd venture to say that Mr. Wilson would have made his statement (however inappropriate in the setting), if Ward, Andy, John or Charlton had been the one doing the lying.

Mr. Obama, a great many Americans disagree with your policies, and do not trust you to tell the truth. It's just a fact. I'm sure you don't like it. But c'mon! Take it like a man. Don't hide behind the racism cry. You gotta know that in order to please one group of people, you're going to displease another. You and your folks need to stop pouting like kids on the playground. Get over it. We're not communists, terrorists, or racists. We're Americans, just voicing our discontent, an action that is protected by the Constitution. And we will continue to voice it. You work for us, remember?? Get busy with the real issues de-funding ACORN, requiring czars to undergo congressional hearings, and most important to the immediate future, revise the current health reform bill. Get at it. Stop whining.

And Jimmy... with all due respect... just go back to building houses and planting peanuts. You disappoint me. Put down your stick, and stop stirring the pot.

Something In The Water?

Wow!!! There's been lots of baby news lately! Gemma Claire is due to arrive in about a month. This morning we learned that Brandi is having a girl, Brooke Addison. And just this evening I learned that (my nephew) Ryan and Alissa are expecting a baby in March!! Such happy news!! We've been purging closets and the storage building lately, and I found myself wanting to snuggle a tiny baby again as we folded away the newborn outfits that belonged to Leyland and Corey. Now it looks like there are three new babies about to join the family. That being said, I'm glad we don't have to filter the water at The 409. No more babies here for sure. We'll just enjoy them from (not too much) afar. Congratulations ya'll!!! Can't wait to snuggle with the new little bundles.

test

Czars

(Note: For some reason Blogger is choosing random words to underline and link. These are not my links, unless it says "click here", so don't click on any of those green underlined words. They're not my links.)

Czar. When I used to hear that word, it conjured up visions of Russia in the old days. Not the case any more. Now when I hear the word czar, and if you follow political news closely, you're hearing it an awful lot, I think of my own government. I had no idea that the president has the authority to appoint whomever he chooses to be advisors in certain areas. Apparently this practice isn't new. I believe it started with FDR, who created The Office of Price Administration, and its director was given the title of "czar" by the media. (Now, don't go getting too impressed about my knowledge, I'm just a huge Google fan!) So it's not a new practice, just an unfamiliar one to most folks, I'd bet.

These appointments do not require any vetting, nor any votes of approval by congress. These czars are not even accountable to the congress, the cabinet, the American people, nor anyone but the President of the United States. How scary is that! If we needed a Czar of Scrapbooking, I'd be just as qualified as anyone, and the president could choose me if he wanted to. I doubt seriously that Mr. Obama knows about the hazards of acid and lignen on photographs, or the best way to adhere vellum to a layout. He probably has no idea which adhesive works best for mulberry paper. I'm fairly certain he's never heard of a Cricut, and probably wouldn't know what to do with a Cuttlebug if it came up and bit him on the nose. I can only imagine what he would try to do with a corner rounder, and the only thing he could deduce about a Memory Makers took kit is that trying to board an airplane with it in your carryon would probably get you arrested. However, with a scrapbook czar by his side, feeding him information and showing him techniques, pretty soon he'd be able to make a scrapbook of his own. More likely, though, he'd grow weary of the process and just tell the scrapbook czar just to make the decisions, design the layout, do whatever necessary to make the process work, and then he would sign off on it as though it were his own creation.

Sound a bit far-fetched to you? Hmmm let's see. I wonder how much a junior senator from Chicago knows about the reality of health care, auto recovery, border control, green living, etc. How in the world will he be presidential and preside over so much that he knows so little about? Well, by appointing people to *help* him and advise him. Glenn Beck from FNN reports that there are currently approximately 32 czars, with several more yet to be appointed. To see a list of them, their salary (if known) and a brief *job* description, click here.

Now here's where it gets interesting. If you watch network news, you won't have heard much about this, but watch-dog news reporters such as FNN, have been all over this. Over the weekend, the appointed Green Jobs Czar, Van Jones, resigned his position. It seems that Mr. Jones is a radical, self-proclaimed communist radical. Don't believe me? Do your own Google or You-Tube search and see some of the outrageous statements he has made. Because of the watch-dog reporting, much attention has been focused on this man, which in turn brings about question and unease as to why the leader of our nation would appoint such a dispicable person to advise him on ANYTHING. Mr. Jones has lashed out against the reports, blaming it on the "republicans", even saying in a speaking engagement that republicans are "@ssholes". And that is a quote. Many were calling for his resignation for the past few weeks, just because of who he has aligned himself with in the past, STORM, the communist party, etc. However, the final nail in his coffin came at the end of last week when it was uncovered that in 2004, I believe it was, he signed a form stating that he believed the Bush administration was involved in a 9-11 conspiracy. When questioned about it, he claims that he "didn't read the report carefully". Huh? Here's another example: Excerpt from a Nov. 2005 interview in the East Bay Express: Jones had planned to move to Washington, DC, and had already landed a job and an apartment there. But in jail, he said, "I met all these young radical people of color -- I mean really radical, communists and anarchists. And it was, like, 'This is what I need to be a part of.'" Although he already had a plane ticket, he decided to stay in San Francisco. "I spent the next ten years of my life working with a lot of those people I met in jail, trying to be a revolutionary." In the months that followed, he let go of any lingering thoughts that he might fit in with the status quo. "I was a rowdy nationalist on April 28th, and then the verdicts came down on April 29th," he said. "By August, I was a communist." In 1994, the young activists formed a socialist collective, Standing Together to Organize a Revolutionary Movement, or STORM, which held study groups on the theories of Marx and Lenin and dreamed of a multiracial socialist utopia. They protested police brutality and got arrested for crashing through police barricades. In 1996, Jones decided to launch his own operation, which he named the Ella Baker Center after an unsung hero of the civil-rights movement.

At any rate, in a time when so many other issues of importance are at stake, the Obama administration doesn't need to spend time, energy and resources defending this reprehensible man, so his resignation was called for. His letter of resignation begins: "On the eve of historic fights for health care and clean energy, opponents of reform have mounted a vicious smear campaign against me. They are using lies and distortions to distract and divide."

Seriously??? No responsibility for his actions? Poor fella!! The big bad Americans who have the audacity to oppose Mr. Obama's proposals, are making up terrible lies about him. (I guess we fabricated the videos and written reports as well. Aren't we just creative like that!) These are the words of an arrogant man who was in the upper echelons of (appointed) government, who had the ear of our president. Sorta makes me question (again) the judgment of our leader!

Check it out for yourself. Do a Google search on the czar system, and especially these two names: Cass Sunstein, John Holdren. These are the people who are advising our president.

Pride

An awesome young lady in my church posted this on her Facebook page, and I wanted to share. Thanks, Anna.

Pride

My name is Pride.
I am a cheater.
I cheat you of your God-given destiny...because you demand your own way.
I cheat you of contentment...because you "deserve better than this."
I cheat you of knowledge...because you already know it all.
I cheat you of healing...because you're too full of me to forgive.
I cheat you of holiness...because you refuse to admit when you're wrong.
I cheat you of vision...because you'd rather look in the mirror than out a window.
I cheat you of genuine friendship...because nobody's going to know the real you.
I cheat you of love...because real romance demands sacrifice.
I cheat you of greatness in heaven...because you refuse to wash another's feet on earth.
I cheat you of God's glory...because I convince you to seek your own.
My name is Pride.
I am a cheater.
You like me because you think I'm always looking out for you.
Untrue.
God has so much for you, I admit.
But don't worry...If you stick with me,you'll never know.
-Broadman & Holman

Hello Blog

Remember me? I seem to have neglected writing for quite some time now. I remember when rarely a day would pass that didn't find me posting something. One of the reasons I haven't been posting as much is that I've become a Facebook Junkie. It's fun to click on there and see what folks are up to. Another reason is that life at The 409 continues to be crazy in a warp-speed kind of way. Whitney has been experiencing some post-childbirth, pelvic stress issues, and it was determined that she would have to undergo surgery. After carefully checking the calendar against The Snoops' travel agenda, my co-workers' vacation times and a couple of things I had scheduled, we narrowed it down to a two-week period that would coincide well with the above-mentioned plans. Unfortunately, none of those dates were available. Our choices were a date eight weeks in the future, or five days in the future. YIKES!! My parents were out of town, but we decided to go ahead and take the appointment anyway. She was just too uncomfortable to wait eight more weeks. So this past Wednesday found us at the hospital, where she underwent a hysterectomy. Such a drastic surgery indeed for one so young, but her ovaries were left intact, which will allow her to avoid hormone-replacement therapy. Believe it or not, she was discharged from the hospital 23 hours later, in a fair amount of pain, but far better than I was after having a similar surgery at age 33. Recovery has been slow and steady, with a minor, but excruciatingly painful, episode of ileus on Friday afternoon. Today she is still moving quite slowly, but I am amazed at how well she is doing. She is restricted from lifting anything at all for six weeks, which means no picking up the babies. Dustin and I will be tag-teaming it until she is able to resume her mommy duties. I'll be working second shift so that I can take care of the children until he gets home from his job, then he will assume the role of caregiver for Whitney and take care of the chidlren while I work. The kids know that things are wierd, and they're not quite sure what to make of it.

I've been reminded this week to count my blessings. I'm especially thankful for:

~My parents, who were sorely missed this past week.
~My parents, who are home now and will be helping out in the coming weeks.
~Whitney's cousin Tammy, who kept the children so I could be at the hospital the morning of surgery.
~The flexibility of my job to allow me to work 2nd shift during Whit's recovery, and my wonderful co-workers who are like an extension of family. Thanks, guys.. Ya'll rock!
~Whitney's grandmother, Nany, who stayed with her all day on Thursday while Dustin worked and I stayed home with the children.
~Family members and friends who called and e-mailed with thoughts, prayers, words of encouragement, and offers to help.
~To Dr. Campbell, the most wonderful physician/surgeon.
~And most importantly, to God for a safe and successful surgery.
CathyB

Hooked on Fox

Different times in my life have found me "hooked" on many different things. Hobbies, movies, pets, crafts, primetime tv shows, etc. I was never much of a broadcast news-watcher, though, until 9-11. Like most of the world, I was glued to the tv for days and weeks. Ever since then, I have kept one eye on the news headlines most all the time. "Disaster or Catastrophe Watch", if you will. First thing in the morning if Fred is whistling (his s's) about a purse-snatcher at Lenox Mall, or Karen is telling me to pack my umbrella, then I'm confident no major news broke while I slept. It's a comforting feeling. I've long been a fan of Good Morning America, and most of ABCs primetime shows like 20/20, and all the variants thereof. I also realized many years ago that the media is HUGE in how we view life in America and in the world. They pretty much run the place, actually. We believe what we see and hear from Charlie, Katie, Brian and the rest of the bunch. If they say we're in a recession, we believe them. If they say the president's popularity numbers are rising... who are we to question? We believe them. We believe what we are fed, unless we question what we are fed. Recently I've been watching the Fox News Network, and I have been amazed at the polar opposite spin on the news. Yes, I know that many people think those folks on FNN are a bunch of raving lunatics, spewers of untruths bent on discrediting the government. I must say that these raving lunatics have become some of my favorite folks!! I'll admit that the real Truth probably lies somewhere between the leftist liberal media and the far right-wing conservative media... but I'm leaning waaaaaaaay toward the right. The motto of Fox News is "We Report, You Decide". I like that. Sure, they are "planting" information... but more than information, they are planting questions. Questions that somebody needs to be asking. For too long we have simply not questioned what our government is doing. We sit around the dinner table or the cafeteria at work and complain, but we don't ask the right questions to the right people. Which is one reason we are in the mess we are in. For some reason, we have been of the mindset that our government is going to take care of us, and over the years, we have entrusted our freedom and liberty into their hands. Now we find ourselves in a stinker of a mess, and some very brave, angry people are heeding the call to action. Enter the "astroturf, the angry, terrorist mobs," who are asking questions. Asking questions, and demanding answers. When supporters rally a cause they believe in, the politicians eat it up and it's all over the network news. When the opposition shows up, they are presented in the media as anti-American. Wait just a minute. I'd be willing to propose that those folks are more American than I am. They've taken their time, energy, and passion to let their voices be heard, while I just sit here and write a blog that very few people will read. The network news (which I still watch, by the way) will have us believe that those crazy folks over at FNN are the anti-American ones, along with the town-hall protesters. Though perhaps a bit zealous in their approach at times, I'm impressed that those folks are willing to risk ridicule, persecution, and sometimes personal safety, to give us The Other Side Of The Story. Quick to tell you what is fact and what is opinion, they provide information that government officials would much prefer we didn't know. Recently a group tried to eliminate The O'Reilly Factor, because Bill is just "out there" and isn't afraid to say anything.. yet he delivers stories to make you think... they tried to eliminate him by manipulating sponsors to remove ads from his show. Didn't work. Another group is now trying the same thing with Glenn Beck. Ringleader of this latest attempt is none other than the FCC diversity "czar"... in other words, someone from WITHIN the White House administration. Kind of makes me think of something my Bible teacher told me once: Satan will leave you alone as long as you are passive in your relationship with God. You are no threat to him. Start moving closer to God, or doing His work, and he will be after you like white on rice. Well, maybe she didn't say it just like that, but that was the gist of it. So if the folks at FNN are just a bunch of raving lunatics, and if there is no truth in what they tell us, why are the liberals trying so hard to shut them down? I invite you to turn the channel and check out Sean Hannity, Glenn Beck, and Bill O'Reilly, for starters. You may not believe what you see or hear, and that's okay, but for sure you'll be exposed to thoughts and questions that you won't see anywhere on the network news. And besides that, you'll probably learn some things you didn't know, like how the healthcare bill includes a section that funds up to 1.6 billion dollars for "community transformation grants" to build jungle gyms and walking trails in community parks. Read about it here . If I were an uninsured American, fighting to support the healthcare bill, I would be furious at such blatant pork-barrel spending that somebody (probably the father of the jungle-gym manufacturer) is trying to push through in the name of healthcare. As an opposer of the bill, I am appalled. Makes me wonder what else is hidden in those 1000 pages that nobody seems able to read and decipher! Anyway, give FNN a whirl. Whether or not you like what you see/hear, perhaps you'll be intrigued to do some research on your own, and you may learn that they are closer to the truth than you might think.

And lest I be labeled as single-minded, I still listen to both sides. I read Time and Newsweek when possible, and I still love Good Morning America. I just enjoy them from the other side of the (media) fence now.

My friend Kelly passed this along today. If it weren't so scary, it might be funny.

Let me get this straight. Obama's health care plan will be written by a committee whose head says he doesn't understand it, passed by a Congress that hasn't read it and whose members will be exempt from it, signed by a president who smokes, funded by a treasury chief who did not pay his taxes, overseen by a surgeon general who is obese, and financed by a country that is broke. What could possibly go wrong?

An Interesting Article

I find this article to be very interesting. From its content, it would appear to have been written during the 80s, when Reagan was in office, however, the facts hold true regardless of the time. What do you think?


(Disclaimer: As with any blog content I post and/or quote from another source, I cannot validate its accuracy. But this one sounds pretty good to me!!)
***************************************
The 545 People Responsible For All Of U.S. Woes
By Charley Reese

(Date of publication unknown)-- -- - Politicians are the only people in the world who create problems and then campaign against them.Have you ever wondered why, if both the Democrats and the Republicans are against deficits, we have deficits? Have you ever wondered why, if all the politicians are against inflation and high taxes, we have inflation and high taxes?You and I don't propose a federal budget. The president does. You and I don't have the Constitutional authority to vote on appropriations. The House of Representatives does. You and I don't write the tax code. Congress does. You and I don't set fiscal policy. Congress does. You and I don't control monetary policy. The Federal Reserve Bank does.One hundred senators, 435 congressmen, one president and nine Supreme Court justices - 545 human beings out of the 235 million - are directly, legally, morally and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country.I excluded the members of the Federal Reserve Board because that problem was created by the Congress. In 1913, Congress delegated its Constitutional duty to provide a sound currency to a federally chartered but private central bank.I excluded all but the special interests and lobbyists for a sound reason. They have no legal authority. They have no ability to coerce a senator, a congressman or a president to do one cotton-picking thing. I don't care if they offer a politician $1 million dollars in cash. The politician has the power to accept or reject it.No matter what the lobbyist promises, it is the legislation's responsibility to determine how he votes.A CONFIDENCE CONSPIRACYDon't you see how the con game that is played on the people by the politicians? Those 545 human beings spend much of their energy convincing you that what they did is not their fault. They cooperate in this common con regardless of party.What separates a politician from a normal human being is an excessive amount of gall. No normal human being would have the gall of Tip O'Neill, who stood up and criticized Ronald Reagan for creating deficits.The president can only propose a budget. He cannot force the Congress to accept it. The Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, gives sole responsibility to the House of Representatives for originating appropriations and taxes.O'neill is the speaker of the House. He is the leader of the majority party. He and his fellow Democrats, not the president, can approve any budget they want. If the president vetos it, they can pass it over his veto.REPLACE SCOUNDRELSIt seems inconceivable to me that a nation of 300 million cannot replace 545 people who stand convicted -- by present facts - of incompetence and irresponsibility.I can't think of a single domestic problem, from an unfair tax code to defense overruns, that is not traceable directly to those 545 people.When you fully grasp the plain truth that 545 people exercise power of the federal government, then it must follow that what exists is what they want to exist.If the tax code is unfair, it's because they want it unfair. If the budget is in the red, it's because they want it in the red. If the Marines are in Lebanon, it's because they want them in Lebanon.There are no insoluble government problems. Do not let these 545 people shift the blame to bureaucrats, whom they hire and whose jobs they can abolish; to lobbyists, whose gifts and advice they can reject; to regulators, to whom they give the power to regulate and from whom they can take it.Above all, do not let them con you into the belief that there exist disembodied mystical forces like "the economy," "inflation" or "politics" that prevent them from doing what they take an oath to do.Those 545 people and they alone are responsible. They and they alone have the power. They and they alone should be held accountable by the people who are their bosses - provided they have the gumption to manage their own employees.

This article was first published by the Orlando Sentinel Star newspaper

Don't get excited about the Obama administration's decision to back down on public-option health care. Don't be relieved to learn about the co-op. The co-op is just as bad, and will morph into public option. Keep speaking up, America! Don't settle for co-op as a tradeoff for public-option. It is ultimately the same thing. Just Say No.

Mama Jo

The past few weeks have been really tough for DJ's family. Many of you know, and have been praying for, Mama Jo and Delores. Mama Jo got her wings on Thursday, and passed from this life into eternity. It's never easy to relinqish those whom we love, but this is one of those times that we had been praying for a swift, merciful end. We said our final goodbyes yesterday to the body that once hosted the life of this woman who was loved by many. At the gravesite, my pastor made a comment that, for some reason, struck me. I'm sure I've heard it eluded to before, but hearing it yesterday was kind of different. Mama Jo and Papa used to be on the go all the time, and enjoyed camping and fishing, going to the moutains and the beach, and going to Gatlinburg. Brother Gordon was talking about how the family used to travel together and go to many places. It was this (probably paraphrased) quote that got to me: "But this is as far as you can go with her, on this earth". I wonder why that struck me so? I guess it is just the thought that the grave really IS as far as we go with our loved ones, until we see them on the other side. I know she is happy in her new home, rejoicing over being reunited with Papa, Samantha, Joshua, and other loved ones. We went as far as we could go with her, but the final journey was made without us.

I learned a few funny stories about Mama Jo through all this, and reminisced about others. It seems that she decided to join the military, because a good friend of hers had signed up. However, Mama Jo was under age. She swiped her sister Essie's birth certificate so she could qualify. After about a year, her friend had to leave for some reason, and Mama Jo decided she didn't want to stay either. The only way she could get out was by telling them what she had done... and to her delight... they sent her home straightaway!

Delores was a young thing when she got married, a few days shy of being "legal". In the olden days, you could post your intent to marry and if nobody objected, you could get married. So marry she did, to a fine, upstanding young man, and off they went for their honeymoon in Gatlinburg. What they didn't know was that Mama Jo, Papa, and DJ took off for Gatlinburg after them. I just learned that story this week, and think it's just the funniest thing. What would she have done if she had found them? I would venture to say that Donald has earned himself some treasures in heaven for sure. To have a mother-in-law like Mama Jo, and to live right next door, required the patience of Job, at times, I'm sure. (Said with love, ya'll!) It still just tickles me to think of them traipsing across the mountains, looking for the newlyweds. Ha! Papa saying "Now... Josie!!!" every few miles....

When we were teenagers, DJ would sometimes take different friends camping up to Tugaloo State Park. Now when you're a teenage girl, there are fewer things more important than scoping out the teenage boys when you enter new territory. The park was no exception. We didn't go in for our fellow-campers, the sons of neighboring campsites. Oh no. We aimed for the big time. We loved us some trash pickup boys. Ummm Hmmm. One hot summer weekend, we happened to meet up with two fine young specimens. One named Luke, and.... well.. the other name escapes me now, but... we were mighty excited when they paid us some attention. We went out boating, skiing and swimming that afternoon, and had a *date* planned for later that evening. After dinner DJ and I went up to the bath house, with all our girly stuff in tow, and we must have spent hours getting all gussied up for our date. I had some special smell-good stuff that I used only for special occasions, and this date sure seemed to merit a spritz or two. Finally satisfied with our supreme gorgeousness, we skipped back down to the campsite to find Papa just smiling that quiet smile of his, then choking on a chuckle, eyes all a-twinkle, he busted out laughing and said "Them boys waited around long enough for ya'll and then took off." Our enchanted evning was ruined. We were devastated. We moped around for hours, straining our ears, hoping to hear their car coming down the road. Mama Jo just shook her head and said "Awwww Debbie! Them boys don't care nothin' about ya'll!" We secretly decided that Papa probably scared them off. I mean.... what's not to like about DJ and me, huh???

Another time, when we were seniors in high school, I had this boyfriend that my parents decided was no good for me. And in retrospect, they were probably right, but I wasn't convinced at the time. As such, I snuck around a bit and dated him anyway. Friday nights usually found me at DJs house, or her at mine, or BJs, or any varied combination thereof. This particular Friday night, I was at DJs, and we had dates for the evening. Mama Jo and Papa had gone camping. Uh oh. Rule #1 No Boys Allowed Without Parents At Home. And my particular boy was the one my mama and daddy had forbidden me to see. Here we have a disaster waiting to happen. Feeling very grown up after our dinner, we were sitting on the front porch at Mama Jo's, when lo and behold... from afar we beheld... CAMPERS!!! The parental units were coming home!! In plain view of the road, there was nowhere to hide, nothing to do but own up to our crime. So horrified was I that Mama Jo would tell MY mama that she had not only caught me with *the boy*, but that we had snuck and had dates without chaperones, I sold my soul and forever indebted myself to her if she PLEASE just wouldn't tell. In hindsite, I suspect she never intended to tell on me at all, but rather enjoyed the fear instilled in me at the thought of such a travesty. About this time, a certain hole had been dug in the back yard. A hole that would one day soon transform into a swimming pool... of which I expected to become a frequent guest. In my haste to secure that Mama Jo wasn't going to rat on me, I promised with all my heart to work on the landscaping project. I toted and hauled rocks for days. And days. I probably fetched more glasses of tea and "Anything you need, Mama Jo?" for weeks. I'm sure the joke was probably on me. I can just hear her and Papa laughing about it. When we visited her a few weeks ago at Emory, I reminded her of that little incident, and how she "blackmailed" me so she would keep quiet. I wish I could have heard her laugh about it just one more time.

Joyce Baker helped to take care of her when she was a resident at Mulberry, and has been very sweet to check on her and pray for her these weeks since she had to leave the facility. Yesterday she posted this photo of Mama Jo taken while she was a resident there. Thanks, Joyce.

Mama Jo, we'll miss you! We'll see you soon! Thanks for some really happy memories!

Question of the day: Is the reaction of American citizens (in the form of town-hall protests) making a difference in President Obama's push for public-option healthcare? Perhaps so, as major networks are reporting today that the Obama administration is backing down. At one time, it was a public-option-or-nothing deal. Now that the outcry has resounded out the windows of the meeting places, and into our living rooms, perhaps it has reinforced other citizens to take up the battle cry and go to their local meetings, and have their voices heard. (My own local representative has CANCELED the remainder of his town hall meetings!! We can "call and talk with him on the phone." What???) Interestingly, though, it seems that, according to Sen. Conrad of North Dakota, that there weren't enough affirmative votes to pass the bill in the first place. Now that this news has come out, there are those saying that Mr. Obama knew it would never pass, and his administration was merely using it as a bargaining chip. Now they are saying that the public-option element is not crucial and not the backbone of reform. (And they called McCain wishy-washy????) I'm quite surprised that Howard Dean, a former practicing physician, has said "A public option is the only way to guarantee health care for all Americans and its inclusion is non-negotiable." Must be quite a while since he has tried to practice medicine in this country.

I'd like to think that the outcry of Americans who opposed it had a little something to do with the backing-down factor. Perhaps without the "terrorist, Nazi, mob" protests, this bill, like many others contributing to the detriment of our nation, would have been pushed through. Finally. It's about time folks started standing up to what they believe in, and not sit back and get steamrolled into something and THEN complain about it, which is what we've been doing for far too many years.

And just a reminder: I am not opposed to healthcare reform. I have been saying for years that something needs to be done about the black hole we are in. The focus needs to be on insurance companies, tort reform, and letting physicians get back to the basics of practicing medicine. Our schools are tax-payer supported (government-run). There's a good place to start. Serve healthier lunches at school, teach children the importance of taking care of themselves and making healthy food choices and exercise. For adults, offer educational classes at the local health department level, at government-subsidized hospitals to teach diabetics and hypertensive patients how to maintain their health. I took diabetic education classes myself, and the fee was astronomical. People without insurance can't afford that. There are many different ways to improve the situation. Focus on primary care. Maybe even consider having an internship in a public health setting in exchange for some student loan forgiveness for medical school debt. If every graduate coming out of medical school participated in a year-long internship at the local health department level, then (free, or sliding-scale) primary care could be expanded to include everyone who shows up at the doorstep, thereby eliminating the need for ER visits for non-emergency care. With all the ruckus going on, it has made me stop and consider my own health, and my own terrible habits. No matter what the outcome, whether (God forbid!) we go to a government-run health system, or continue down the black hole we're in currently, we all need to wake up and realize that our basic health is better controlled in our own hands than those of Uncle Sam, or the insurance companies who dictate how physicians practice medicine. One way to reduce medical costs nationwide would be for each of us to become proactive in our own behalf. Eat less junk (me, me, me...) and more fruits and veggies. Get up and move. Get more sleep. Learn to deal with stress. Keep a clean conscience. Practice random acts of kindness. Pay it forward. Learn to forgive those who hurt us. And that "do unto others" thing... give it a try. If we lived in such a manner, and treated our bodies and our minds with respect, a lot of the medical issues that plague us would resolve themselves. We don't need government-run healthcare. We don't need insurance-run healthcare (which is what we have now). Maybe someone, somewhere, will get it right. In the meantime, keep speaking up, America!

Note to self: Take your own advice!

Obamacare

If we could all agree that nobody truly understands Obamacare, we could at least begin the process on common ground. I’m glad to see American citizens speaking up, and letting their voices be heard. It does concern me, however, that the opposers at town hall meetings are being portrayed in the media as hot-headed, ignorant rednecks. There are some pretty nasty rumors about Obamacare that even I, with all my Obabamacare opposition, have a difficult time believing. As the father of young children, I find it hard to believe that his plan would put a lesser value on children. Having just lost a grandmother, I can’t believe he will put old folks out to pasture. Now… that’s not to say that I don’t believe quality of care will take a nosedive, but I believe it will be for every person. Maybe a little worse for the elderly, but probably not so much for children. The point I am pondering is this: I wonder how many of these rumors are actually being generated by the Obama folks, in order to work the opposers into a frenzy? Think about it. His calm, smug demeanor is far more attractive and soothing than the shouting, shoving, sometimes obscenity-laden protests from the opposition. Brings out the shine on his halo.
I’ve worked in healthcare for 33 years, in many capacities, and the changes I have seen are incredible. Absolutely, reform is needed. Even physicians agree!! The cost of medical care is exorbitant, and something needs to be done, I don’t argue that point. However, there are a lot of hidden costs that the patient doesn’t see. When we are admitted to a hospital room for an overnight stay, the price of that room is all encompassing, paying for a myriad of things that we would never imagine. The room fee pays my salary, and the salary of my co-workers in transcription and Medical Records. It pays the janitors, the cooks, the nurses, the radiology techs, the maintenance guys, all of the administrative offices, insurance clerks, coders, the electric bill, the phone bill, gas and water bill, laundry bill so we can have clean sheets… and the list goes on. Same concept as a hotel bill, except there are more folks to pay. That $13.00 Tylenol we took pays for the pharmacists, the pharmacy techs, the nurse who gives it to us, the Dixie cup that holds our water. When our doctor bill arrives, we may say that he only popped into the room for five minutes. What we don’t see is the time it takes him to write up admission orders, make sure the mandated information is in the chart for every order, and all the required dictation is done. The chart may lie unfinished in Medical Records for a week or two, requiring multiple visits by the doctor, or multiple access to the file via computer from his office, to make sure all the necessary forms are completed and signed.
The same thing holds true when we go to the doctor’s office. Absolutely, the bill is far more than it should be. My last job afforded me a different point of view, though, in that I was the accounts payable person. My goodness. I never knew that running a medical office was so expensive. The cost for durable medical equipment, disposable medical supplies, utilities, salaries, general operating expenses, health insurance for employees (huge!) and then the big daddy… the malpractice insurance. Heavenly days! Yes, doctors make a lot of money. As well they should. When we or someone we love is injured or ill, we want the doctor to do whatever necessary to save them or make them well. They become God, sometimes. When the crisis is over, we get a letter from our insurance company saying “Sorry, we’re only paying X amount, because your doctor charges too much.” So, instead of becoming upset with the insurance company, we get upset with the doctor and complain that he charges too much. There’s something wrong with this picture! When an insurance company pays $1200.00 for an $8,000.00 procedure, that’s pretty shameful. Is $8,000.00 too much for the procedure? Yes, probably so. Back in the day when insurance payments were more proportionate to physician charges, that procedure might have been billed at $2,500.00. It is sad that many physicians and surgeons have to spend a portion of their work day writing letters and making phone calls to get permission to perform tests and/or procedures, and appealing payment amounts. Yet if the physician doesn’t order the round of tests, some attorney is out there foaming at the mouth, encouraging you to file suit against the physician. So the physician has to pay thousands and thousands of dollars for malpractice insurance. I could write for days and days about this issue alone, but suffice it to say… healthcare is one big, black, deep, dark hole, made worse every year by the constant threat of malpractice and litigation, by the insurance companies setting the acceptable ‘usual, reasonable and customary’ fees for services, and by the huge losses incurred by emergency rooms for primary care. Which brings us back to the reality that Americans need access to primary care. Just think about how many ER visits could be avoided, how many patients could avoid dialysis if their BP and diabetes were kept under control, how many hospitalizations for chronic illnesses could be avoided, if everyone had access to primary care.
I’ve tried to look at it from the other side. From the side of those people who don’t have insurance. A poster on the scrapbook board made the comment that many of us are all just one layoff away from being uninsured. Last year she would have been one of the Obamacare opposers, but because her husband lost his job, they now have no insurance, and have several small children. She is afraid of Obamacare, but she is more afraid to be without insurance. I can totally see that. It seems that most of those who oppose it currently have coverage, and most of those who support it do not have coverage. I don’t blame those without insurance for supporting Obamacare, they are being fed a line of bull and are being made to believe that his plan will take care of them. Granted, they may have access to healthcare that they don’t have now, but I absolutely believe that it is not what they are being promised. Don’t get me wrong, I am a TOTAL advocate for healthcare for everyone, but I am opposed to a single-payer system run by the government. There has to be another way.
I don’t know the answer. I wish I did. The whole thing is, I don’t think anybody knows the answer. Mr. Obama just wants us to think he knows (when he hasn’t even read the 1000 page bill his ownself). I believe what we need to focus on right this minute is making sure our representatives SLOW DOWN the process and not be bullied into a vote on this for yet a long while. Acting in haste will only result in the nightmare we all fear, I’m afraid.

Euna Lee and Laura Ling

Welcome home, ladies. I'm glad this incident turned out well. I'm glad that little girl will be tucked in by her mommy tonight. I love a good reunion, and this one was very sweet.

This whole incident causes me to stop and wonder about border integrity. How is it, that in countries like North Korea and Iran, that a few hikers or a couple of reporters can accidentally cross the border and be snatched into captivity? If the borders were clearly marked, then it wouldn't have been accidental, and I seriously doubt they would have made that mistake. I haven't been keeping up with these stories very well, but if they claim it was a case accidental "tresspassing", then obviously there were no border guards, no electric fences, no watch dogs, etc. So how is it that these countries can keep such a close watch on their borders and actually imprison violators, yet the United States can't effectively monitor our southern border? It's not a random accidental few people who cross into our country, but rather a flood of dam-break proportions of our southern neighbors who absolutely infiltrate our border. Granted, if we were to sentence each perpetrator to a prison sentence of 12 years (as in the case of Lee and Ling), then there wouldn't be enough space in all the college dorms in America to house them all. Oh, and then there's the issue that even if we did imprison them, no one from Mexico would come and get them, much less send a plane full of dignitaries to negotiate their release. All that being said, I think the USA needs to get hold of whatever technology it is that allows these jungle and desert-laden nations to so carefully watch their borders. We need some of that, and we need to use it. Not for the purpose of imprisoning them. No. We don't want them. We need to use it for the purpose of throwing them back. Or at least directing them to the nearest legal border crossing, where they can enter the country legally, with a one-way ticket to the nearest immigration office to apply for citizenship. Or a one-way ticket back home, whichever they prefer. That's all I've got to say about that.

Just For Fun

No time for a lengthy post today, so I'm going to share a video sent to me from my friend Mac. It's pretty neat. Just for fun.

*******

Ennio Marchetto is a world renowned and awarded comedian who has created his own theatrical language mixing mime, dance, music and quick change costumes made out of card-board and paper. In 18 years Ennio has performed in over 70 countries for more than a million people. His show has received numerous awards and international critical acclaim. .....He is from Italy. He does impressions of stars and singers using these paper costumes that transform from one person into another. He is a barrel of fun to watch!!

Click here to watch (about 6 minutes)

The Weekend

Busy weekend at The 409. We did score some bargains for Mary for school, but nothing like we did last year. Yesterday we partied with Peyton to celebrate her 3rd birthday. It was lots of fun, and Peyton was really cute. I always love being with the Bennett family. The children were tuckered out and went to bed fairly early, with fairly good cooperation. Whitney and I had steak and veggie kabobs on the grill for dinner. .....Sigh..... I don't know why I even bother to try. The meat was too brown for my liking. I should have known better. There's only one person, in my opinion, who can cook a perfect piece of meat, and that's David. One of these days I'll learn to save a poor slab of meat an unhappy ending, and stop buying it. Oh well. The salad, 'taters and grilled veggies were good. There are plenty of leftovers too. The house is a mess, as we've been trying to organize, separate and purge clothing for all three children. The drawers to Leyland's dresser are stacked in my room, partially child-proofed with those drawer-latch thingies. We have a little more work to do with that project. Leyland loves to play 'dress-up' in her own clothes, and no matter how neatly you fold them and put them away, she will open the drawers and strew them about her room. Thus the drawer-latch project. Thus the reason the clothes are also stacked in my room. With the drawers. The ironing board is still standing from the mad dash this morning to get the girls' dresses pressed before church. There's a giant empty box on my (unmade!) bed, waiting to be put in the attic. I do so dislike trying to work amid such untidy chaos, but there's nothing I can do about it right now. Hopefully Whitney can get everyone down for a nap and come in here and work on the clothes-sorting-purging project while I am working.

Children sure do say the funniest things, don't they? On the way to church this morning, Mary was holding my Bible. She said, "Grandma, what's with all these yellow marks in your Bible?" I exaplained to her that those were my favorite parts... the verses that I like very much. She thought for a minute and said.... "Wow. There's sure a lot of it that you DON'T like, isn't there!!" Such a funny little girl, that Mary.

Now it's off to get my work-week started. Be careful driving next week! School is starting in many counties this week!!

It's off shopping for school clothes for Mary! Last year we scored big at The Children's Place at the outlet mall in Commerce. Hoping for a repeat performance today.

Got this in the e-mail this morning. Gotta love it. Happy Friday!!!

******************************************
John Smith started the day early having set his alarm clock (made in Japan) for 6 am. While his coffeepot (made in China) was perking, he shaved with his electric razor (made in Hong Kong). He put on a dress shirt (made in Sri Lanka), designer jeans (made in Singapore) and tennis shoes (made in Korea). After cooking his breakfast in his new electric skillet (made in India), he sat down with his calculator (made in Mexico) to see how much he could spend today. After setting his watch (made in Taiwan) to the radio (made in India), he got in his car (made in Germany), filled it with GAS (from Saudi Arabia ) and continued his search for a good paying AMERICAN JOB. At the end of yet another discouraging and fruitless day checking his Computer (made in Malaysia), John decided to relax for a while. He put on his sandals (made in Brazil), poured himself a glass of wine (made in France) and turned on his TV (made in Indonesia), and then wondered why he can't find a good paying job in America. And now he's hoping he can get help from a President Made in Kenya.

Blogger Mystery Solved on Facebook

I have a confession to make. I have become a Facebook junkie. I used to laugh at people who couldn't be away from their computers or blackberry phones without going into DTs, because of Twitter and Facebook. I even posted about the silliness of tweeting. I must confess that I finally surrendered and signed up for Twitter. It was a special moment. Ha. Not really. I only did it thinking I could keep up with Whitney and her family while they were at the beach. But she was so busy having fun she didn't tweet at all. Apparently I signed up for Facebook a while back, but didn't remember doing so (Ain't senility grand...), because when I attempted to set up an account, that "email address already exists on Facebook." Whatever. At any rate, I signed up, and was a bit disappointed. It just didn't *feel* right, and I found myself confused at who could see what, etc. Finally I got the hang of it, and must admit that oftentimes during the day, I FEEL THE NEED to hop over there for just a minute and see what's going on. And to see if anyone has written me to say how beautiful my grandbabies are. It really has been fun to click on a friend, then see who their friends are, and who their friends are.... etc.... until I find myself so deeply embedded within the bowels of Facebook that I wonder if I'll ever find my way home. At least I don't have to worry with leaving bread crumbs. There's a handy-dandy little button up at the top of the page that says "Home". After all. There really is No Place Like Home.

But I digress. You probably want to know what the mystery is about, and how it was solved on Facebook. When readers post comments on this (most) blogs, there are several methods of identification. You can sign as an anonymous poster, or use your google sign in (on this one) and one other way... it escapes me right now. I have encouraged my anonymous-commenting friends to please type their name at the end of the comment, so I can know who in the world is reading my blog, and talking to me. I have a little widget at the bottom left-hand side of the blog that keeps a list of blog hits. Doesn't tell me the name, but the city or network of every blog hit. Man. That drives me crazy. I have people all over the world who pop in to read my blog. And I wanna know who they are!! Especially if someone posts a comment. Come on, ya'll... don't you know I inherited the Snoop Sister gene from my mom and aunts... I must know! Don't leave me in suspense!! Sometimes someone will come here from Google when searching for random things like "buzzards", or "carport makeovers". I sometimes wonder what these people think when they click on my blog and see pictures of my grandbabies or read my rant about the weatherman, or my rambling about childhood memories. I'd venture to say it probably wasn't what they were Googling for.

Back to FB. I have looked up many old school friends and reconnected. I've had some old school friends look me up and we've connected. What fun! Tonight I was going to make my routine "quick stop" on FB before showering and crankin' up the CPAP. Lo and behold, I had a new friend request!! I was delighted to accept, as I hadn't heard from this person in a very long time. Let's just call her Cindy P. When I signed onto FB to accept her request, there was a message that said something to the effect that she had been keeping up with me by reading my blog! How wild is that!! We did the live-chat thing for a few minutes... and whaddyaknow... she was one of the mystery commentors!!! It was such fun talking to her and catching up. Hope to do it again sometime soon. She was so sweet to ask about Delores and say that she had been praying for her.

So here's to you, my mystery friend... I mean Cindy P.. How wonderful to *see* you on Facebook!! Now, sign your name next time you post a comment, okay???

And speaking of Delores, please, please keep the family in your prayers. She is three weeks into the clinical trial, and the going is starting to get a little rough. To make matters worse, Mama Jo (her and DJs mom) is in very, very bad shape at Emory Eastside, with a very poor prognosis. Just a really tough time for them right now.

What a Great Day!

Today was a great day. Coffee on the deck with DJ & David to start out the day. Afterward, as I was getting ready to deliver a batch of work, Leyland said, "Where you goin' Greemaw?" When I told her, she said, "Can I go too?" So I had myself the cutest little helper today as I made the delivery. Some special Leyland/Greemaw time for just the two of us. She also "helped" me purchase some postage stamps and get into the mail a birthday card for a friend. She was so excited to drop the card into the slot, and was very proud of herself. After that, I got a few chores done, had a nap, and then back to DJ's for dinner (a David steak, giant baked potato and yummy salad.) More time on the deck after dinner, then home for some baby love and House marathon on tv. Now it's bath time, and I do believe I hear Mr. Sandman rambling about, so I'm hoping for a good night's rest, and sleeping in tomorrow morning. My goodness. I just love Fridays!!

Just Stuff

Okay, so I've got to post something. Anything. To get rid of the picture of the horrid fly that I see every time I open my blog. That's the thing about blogs. They just sit there dormant if you don't write something. So here's my blog post for today:
********************************
Jesus love me this I know!

For the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to Him belong.

They are weak, but He is strong!
*********************************

That's way better, huh?

Crazy Flies

There are a lot of disgusting things in this world. Very high on my list of Most Disgusting Things Ever is the common housefly. And the not-s0-common ones. I'm not crazy about spiders either, but at least the spider has a good use. One being that he eats flies!! I can't think of one single thing a fly is good for. They are nasty, disgusting, creepy, maddening, gross, icky little critters. A couple of weekends ago, Whitney and Dustin had some friends over for a cookout/swim party. This meant multiple people in and out of my house on multiple occasions. All afternoon, and all evening. Some of our dear friends don't quite get the concept of In or Out. They seem to park themselves inside the door frame, with both the interior and the exterior doors wide open, as if to offer refuge for any poor insect who may be buzzing nearby. And I do believe that every winged flying creature for miles around found its way into my home that day. And I believe that they sent out little bug vibes to all their creepy little friends that this was a nice place to live, and to please hover about the doorway and sneak in every time someone enters or exits the house for the next two weeks. For two weeks I was a fly-swat wielding, foaming-at-the-mouth, Bug Terminating Fool, trying to rid the place of the nasty little things. Honestly. It was to the point that I was afraid the babies would start catching them at the window sill... and we know what babies do with things they pick up... EEEWWWW... I couldn't stand it! I don't know if flies actually sleep at night or not. I think what they did was congregate around a little fly campground somewhere behind my desk, and discuss ways in which to torture me the following day. They would dive at my head while I'm trying to work. They land on whatever it is you're trying to eat, or on the table top, or the trays to the kids' high chairs. N.A.S.T.Y. And it's not enough, to have one kind of fly. Oh no, there are many variations. You have your regular old housefly, that's just a nasty nuisance, but pretty dumb. He'll buzz against the window, trying to get out, and even with all those fly-eyes all over his head, you can still come up behind him with a paper towel, pick him up, and just squeeze the buzz right out of him. There's the Poop Fly, the one that you see partying around dog poop (But their favorite is fresh cow poop... I have seen them in the pasture when Daddy Bill used to have cows. They party like it's 1999.) The ones with the horrid looking green heads. Fortunately, there were none of those in my house, though I'm surprised... I mean we have a virtual poop factory here with a baby and a toddler: one who not-quite totally poopy potty trained yet, and one not at all... but thankfully those flies have left us alone. Then there is the Crazy Fly. I know that is the name of it, because I was telling my mom about them, and she said that's what Mamma Nay called them. So it's official. These flies are a bit larger than the common housefly. Their buzz is very loud, louder than a bee. And they are crazy. They fly at a frantic pace, and if in a small room, will flail themselves against the wall/mirror/window in an effort to.... an effort to what? I have no idea. Maybe they are trying to escape. Maybe they are trying to commit fly suicide. Surely they must know how badly we hate them. I mean, if I thought someone hated me as badly as I hate flies, I'd be flailing myself against the wall too. A few minutes ago I noticed a Crazy Fly in my kitchen, as I was preparing a lovely dinner in the crock pot. NOT what you want to see when you are preparing food!!! I swear... that fly HOVERED at my face. I thought it was a bee attacking me! I couldn't believe it. He followed me into my office and landed on my window, from where I was lucky enough to capture and destroy him. At least he wasn't kamakaze-ing all over the place. I think the next time one of those Crazy Flies gets in my office, I'll set up the video camera. I'm sure the picture of me chasing it with the fly swat, sometimes just swinging into empty airspace, could surely win the Funny Videos Contest. And if we can have sound, that would be great too. Although I might not want anyone to hear what I am saying as I am swishing my bright red swatter through the air....

But, if keeping the fly population at bay isn't an issue at your house (and I'm happy to report we are under control now, except for the occasional rogue one like today), and if you don't have the disgust for them that I do, then let me introduce you to a plush version of my winged nemesis. Yes, indeed. For a small monetary donation, you can be the proud owner of your very own STUFFED HOUSEFLY!!!! I'm sure that little jewel just flies right off the shelf at the toy store!!! (Hey... wasn't that the best pun ever!!!)

Oh no... I think I hear buzzing in the distance... I must retrieve my swatter and investigate...

Dictation Guidelines

So much of what happens in healthcare goes on behind the scenes. Things that the patients never realize. For example, there are rules of style that apply to my profession, and we are expected to abide by those rules. Our job security depends on it. For pretty much every function within a hospital or clinic, there are SOPs, or Standard Operating Procedures. While I had never seen this particular set of guidelines before, intended for the physicians who dictate our medical reports, I ran across it and thought I'd post it, just so you'd know that they, too, are held to certain expectations. (cough... sputter...)

****************************************


Dictation Guidelines for Physicians:


Adherence to these guidelines will assure the highest quality transcribed reports in the shortest amount of time.

~When your cell phone rings, please do not hit the pause button on the dictate station. We love to hear you fighting with your spouse, or yelling at your kids. It makes us work faster and more carefully. We don't want you mad at us.

~When certain bodily functions happen, please don't bother to be discreet, and by all means, don't bother to say excuse me. We rather enjoy the sound, and are so happy that you feel better.


~At the beginning of the dictation, take as deep a breath as you possibly can. Now, try to dictate the entire report before you have to inhale again.

~Gum? Sure! Pass it around to all your dictating doctor friends. The sound of your tongue carressing the wad in your mouth is a perfect background to the indecipherable lab results and bacteria species that you're dictating!

~When dictating a particularly difficult word or phrase, please turn your head and speak directly into your armpit.

~If you have to sneeze or cough suddenly, please remove your head from your armpit and sneeze or cough directly into the microphone.

~We charge per character, including periods. An effective way to cut your cost is to dictate your entire report as one sentence.

~If you must eat while you dictate, please stay away from foods such as marshmallows, bananas, and pudding. Apples, pretzels, and celery are much better choices.


~Please don’t stop dictating when you yawn. It throws off our rhythm.

~When dictating in your car, turn the radio up a little bit louder. We love to tap our feet while we're working. And when you forget to turn off your recorder, sing a little louder. You really have a nice voice.


**********************************************


Most of the physicians in this town do pretty darn good with these guidelines!

Happy Anniversary Apollo 11

It was 40 years ago today that the infamous words were spoken: "The Eagle Has Landed". Last year on this date I posted about the moon walk. So, rather than re-write a post that would say basically the same thing, I decided to plagiarize myself. Happy Anniversary!
********
(Originally posted July 20, 2008)

"Magnificent Desolation". Those were the words Buzz Aldrin used to describe the landscape on the surface of the moon as he stepped off the Lunar Module. A few moments earlier, Neil Armstrong had just planted the first human footprint on the face of the moon. His famous statement, "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind", would become symbolic for that historic moment. (I kind of like the "Magnificent Desolation" remark my ownself!) I remember that date well. Not necessarily because I was so enthralled by history in the making, but because my parents made me stop playing and come watch the moon walk on TV. I remember that it was evening. Not because I looked at the clock, or because anything at all about the situation impressed me. I remember that it was evening because we were at the lake, and we had our clothes on. My cousins, Sharon and Jeff, and I were upstairs playing a board game. At the appointed time, we rolled our eyes at each other and very reluctantly left our game to go and watch "that stupid, boring, astronaut thing" on TV. We didn't even go all the way downstairs. I vividly remember crouching on the highest step possible (so as to return quickly to my play) that would afford me a view of the television. A little black and white number, it was, with rabbit ears. At that time the lake house was simply a weekend getaway, with few of the nicer comforts of home, like a big television set! At any rate, we were "forced" to watch the snowy image on the screen, as our parents, aunts and uncles sat leaning forward in their seats, holding their breath, taking in every second of the event. We watched him take a few steps, hop a few times, and then made a hasty retreat back to our fun. Our parents had informed us earlier in the day that we would be required to watch it. They told us that one day we would be able to say we witnessed the First Man On The Moon. Big, hairy deal. We were SO not interested… but we were at least relieved that it would not interfere with our swimming and skiing. You see, THAT's how I know it was in the evening. We were upstairs playing, out of our swimsuits, and not down at the water. Now, all these years later, I do think it is really cool that I'm able to say I witnessed the First Man On The Moon, and that I'm old enough to remember all the hooplah that went along with it... unimpressed though I was at the time. So today is the 39th anniversary of a big day for the United States of America. I suppose next year there will be a big 40th anniversary party, and I'll bet the 50th anniversary will be an even bigger bash. Way to go, Apollo 11 guys! Just like my mama said I would be, I'm really glad I watched. I'd love to know more about space travel, the stars, planets and the workings of the cosmos, but that will have to wait. I've got to get back upstairs and finish my game.

Yesterday

Saturday was probably my most favorite day of the year so far. First of all, I slept til 9:00. Yay!! I figured by sleeping so late, though I had probably missed out on Coffee On The Deck at DJs, but a quick phone call assured me that she was still enjoying the morning. I grabbed my flavored water, a SlimFast Bar, and headed over to what has become my favorite place... DJs deck. To my delight, David's breakfast run was also late- they were finishing up their biscuits and had one waiting for me. Man. Now, that's how to spoil a girl. The weather was absolutely perfect! Perfect temperature, perfect (hardly any!) humidity, and the perfect gentle breeze blowing through the trees. Normally we will sit and chat for an hour or so on Saturday morning, then get busy with our day. Neither of us was in a hurry on this particular morning, so we had a long, leisurely visit. Before we knew it the clock said 1:10 pm! What a lovely way to pass the morning. I'm so thankful for my extended family and the companionship we share. Love that deck, DJ!!! David, don't even THINK about cutting down that tree!!

Ahh Fridays!

Sleeping in was wonderful this morning! It is so nice to wake up without a headache every day, and I'm attributing that to the CPAP. The headaches would be especially bad on the rare mornings when I would sleep in. Today I feel well rested, headache free, and thankful for all my blessings! Even my messy room is a blessing- it means I have a home. But I'm having a hard time getting the motivation to clean it up. I do love a neat and tidy room. It's just getting it there and maintaining it that I have trouble with. I might even d.u.s.t. today. Don't tell DJ. She's got enough stress on her these days. Let's spare her the thought that I may actually lift a dustcloth. My mom will be pleased though. Now the question remains... will I actually do it? I think once I get moving and get things done, I'll want to go ahead and complete the project. There's a plethora of attic-bound things that must be dealt with, and some scrapbook items that need to be returned to the craft room. My bathroom needs some attention, and some laundry awaits folding. Hmmm. I think I shall have a busy day. I'll be doing the greemaw thing tonight- Whit and Dustin are going to see Harry Potter with some friends. That means lots of bedtime snuggles, and hopefully a quiet evening once they go to sleep.

I talked to Delores last night, and she was feeling okay. Rather tired, as they are keeping her busy at the center, and now she has officially started the treatments. Please remember her in your prayers. She'll be taking treatments twice weekly.

Happy Anniversary to DJ and David!! Sixteen years! And to think... they met because of me. Some days she loves me for it, and some days wants to sock me one. Nah.. just kidding. David's one of a kind, and I guess we'll keep him.

Happy Friday, everyone!! Have a safe and happy weekend!

Crown Me

The next time I hear any variation of the word "crown", I hope it has to do with a) checkers, b) i'm being coronated, c) Leyland is playing pretend, d) I'm singin' songs about Jesus. I hope I never again hear that word associated in any way, shape, or form, with my mouth, or with my dentist. It was determined a few weeks ago that the source of my jaw pain was a crack in tooth #19, or a right lower molar. This particular tooth had tons of silver in it, from having been patched and filled many years back. I've had crowns before, and even a root canal, so I pretty much knew what was in store for me today. Though I don't relish the thought of long, sharp, pointy things penetrating my gums and pumping me up with anesthetics, neither do I freak out at the thought, and willinglingly endure the brief discomfort to ensure that the procedure itself is painless. Nitrous oxide usually helps too, and I rather enjoy the euphoric, floating feeling that goes along with it.

So, dude... what happened today??? First of all, the nitrous tank was empty. Bummer. I patiently endured the bee-sting sensation of the (three) injections. Dr. Al was ready to roll, but at the first flow of air from one of the instruments, I nearly came out of the chair. Uh oh. Two more injections needed. My gums were numb, so fortunately that didn't hurt. Waited a bit and tried again. Still no go. THREE more injections, and the warning that he couldn't give me any more. We waited another 15 minutes. So there I was, an hour and eight injections later, dreading the next attempt. Yep, I still had feeling on the inside part of my tooth. It wasn't unbearable, though, and I just sucked it up and let him have at it. Oh, my friends... it was not fun. By this time the entire right side of my face felt like a blimp, the corner of my mouth was drooping, and drooling freely. Yet my tongue was not numb, nor the inside portion of my jaw. How crazy is that! After bending the metal on the arm rests and squeezing my eyes tightly shut, and curling my toes so tightly my shoes nearly flew off, he told me "we" were almost done, but he thought "we" needed one more injection for the last portion of the procedure. Okay, Dr. Al, whatever you say. Just shoot me. Anywhere. Just hurry up and make it stop. After "we" were finished, he explained that the lower molars can sometimes be difficult to anesthetize, as there are several nerves supplying the area. Apparently mine are deeply buried under my collarbone. No wonder it hurt so badly, the tooth was cracked in four places. I sure hope this crown thing fixes it and "we" don't end up needing a root canal. I don't think "we" can stand another adventure like this.

Georgia Honors A Fallen Soldier

I remember hearing about this on the local Atlanta news, but the magnitude of this story hit me a few minutes ago when I received this e-mail from my friend Mac. If you have a moment, please click on the link and watch. This is absolutely incredible. cathyb.

**********

Killed in action the week before, the body of Sergeant First Class John C. Beale was returned to Falcon Field in Peachtree City , Georgia , just south of Atlanta , on June 11, 2009 . The Henry County Police Department escorted the procession to the funeral home in McDonough , Georgia. A simple notice in local papers indicated the road route to be taken and the approximate time.

Nowadays one can be led to believe that America no longer respects honor and no longer honors sacrifice outside the military. Be it known that there are many places in this land where people still recognize the courage and impact of total self-sacrifice. Georgia remains one of those graceful places. The link below is a short travelogue of that day's remarkable and painful journey. But only watch this if you wish to have some of your faith in people restored. Please share widely.

Click here to see how some wonderful people in Georgia honored one of their own. (When the video opens, you may need to click once on the picture.)

Expo, Here We Come!!

This time tomorrow morning will find me sitting outside the doors of the exhibit hall, waiting for the signal to enter. Yay! One of my favorite days of the year! Girlfriend day at the Expo! This year it will probably just be DJ and I. Delores is in Texas, Tangela can't go, and Barb has a previous commitment. Mary Kay and Marynell are planning to attend, and we will meet up with them at the center. I've saved some pennies for shopping, and have a couple of things in particular that I'm hoping to find. My Expo bag is almost ready- I have energy snacks, a paper protector to avoid crumpling of any paper I may purchase, a tiny purse to hold my phone and personal items. Tomorrow morning I'll add my PBJ sandwich and some cold water to complete my Expo Survival Kit. There is food available on site, but it's expensive. We decided years ago that we'd rather save that ten bucks for shopping! After the expo we'll go out to dinner, so not to worry, we won't deprive ourselves of some good food to round out the day. The first few years are rather overwhelming, with so much to see, so many new techniques and products available. A lot of the vendors are repeats year after year, so while I love to look and see what is new with them, it has become a little easier to manage in terms of taking it all in. That's a good thing, because it leaves the brain a little room to process and enjoy the new vendors who might be there. There are all types of people at the Expo, and I enjoy the people-watching aspect of it as well. I particularly enjoy seeing the different T-shirts worn by some of the scrappers. My favorite last year was one that said "My husband lets me buy all the scrapbooking supplies I can hide!" I thought that one was cute. Elissa sent a link to a website that has all those cute shirts for sale. It was too late to order one for this year, but maybe I'll get one for next year. Of course the "husband" one doesn't apply to me, but there are other cute sayings, such as "What happens at the crop stays at the crop", "Anything you can scrap I can scrap better", "Been there, done that, have the layout to prove it", "Scrapbooking life's moments, one page at a time", etc. We will leave the Expo pumped and ready to schedule a day of scrapping down at the church, most likely with some newly-purchased supplies, just burning a hole in our pockets to be used.

Please remember to pray for Delores, who has had yet another delay in beginning treatment.

Happy Birthday tomorrow to Mama Jo!

Video Clip of Departure

Because of having to spend the afternoon in the ER a few weeks ago, I was unable to catch the band at Wild Bill's. I'm pretty sure most of you missed it too. :-] Someone videotaped one of their numbers, and posted it on YouTube. Of course, the sound quality isn't like a studio recording, but you'll get the idea of just how good they are, and how much fun they are to watch. Click here to watch. Enjoy!

Daddy Bill's Garden

When I was in 2nd grade, my parents built a house next door to my grandparents, Mama Nay and Daddy Bill. How lucky can a kid be, to live next door to Mama Nay??? I have so many fond memories of growing up in her shadow, and whatever goodness that may be found in me is, in part, certainly due to her influence. Life wasn't always a bowl of cherries, though. From mid to late summer, many of my mornings started very, very early, and my brother and I would sleepwalk our way up the path, with the dew gathering between our bare toes, to fall onto the couch at Mama Nay's house while she and our mom set about the task of canning and freezing the vegetables. Oh yeah, Daddy Bill (and my dad) had a huge garden, and every summer would find them harvesting the goods, shelling, shucking, silking, and peeling them, and then doing whatever it was they did in the kitchen to ensure that everyone had veggies for the winter. There was no air conditioning in the house, so it was necessary to start the process very early, before the heat became too oppressive. She had this big blue fan on a stand with wheels that would be moved into the kitchen, and those small, old-fashioned oscillating fans to keep them cool. Michael and I would snooze for a while, then watch Captain Kangaroo and Mister Rogers on channel 8, before going outside to play in the all-dirt front yard. I can still remember the smell of the fresh beans and peas, and how I longed to have my own personal knife and cobb of corn to play with. I was fascinated at the neat, perfectly symmetrical little "rows" of corn that slid into the bowl with each pass of the knife. And I particularly loved when the cobb was bare, my grandma would take the knife and scrape it over the cobb (I still don't know why she did that), and little pieces of corn would fly everywhere and spatter on her glasses. My fingers would itch to get into the "blanching" sink and wash the peas and butterbeans. I enjoyed watching the little plastic freezer bags being filled to the exact mark, and how happy everyone was at the neat little rows of peas sitting on the counter when the day's work was done. At the time, like most kids, I wasn't so fond of eating my vegetables, but I do remember how I loved to "work" in the garden. Daddy Bill would borrow Mr. Raymond's mule and plow up the garden each spring. I loved the smell of the freshly-broken earth, and how it felt to walk barefoot in the cool dirt. He would let me "help" plant the seeds, and taught me how to cover each little one carefully with the soil. MMM mmmm. Now I love those veggies and can still see in my mind the rows and rows of okra, cucumbers, squash, tomatoes, cabbage, corn, green beans, peas, butterbeans, watermelons, peppers, and my favorites as a child... the tall, smiling faces of the sunflowers.

My dad and my Uncle Gene kept the garden going for years after Daddy Bill died, but now the patch of land lies unused. Dad stopped using it a couple of years ago, and now has a smaller garden closer to the house. I worried about him being out in the hot sun, out of view from my mom, working such a large garden anyway. Uncle Gene has a smaller garden at his house now too.

Yes, many of my childhood summer mornings were spent in this fashion. Though I didn't realize it at the time, growing one's own food supply is something to be proud of, and I'm thankful for all the sweat and labor (and the memories!) that went into the preparation, maintenance, harvest and preservation of Daddy Bill's Garden.

Photos From The 4th

Yankee Doodle Dandy

Cute Outfit!

Little man with red-white-and-blue star garland.

This is what 4th of July fireworks look like in NYC.

This is what they look like at The 409.

Leyland just wanted to blow hers out.

Kiddie Pool Heaven

Can you say Playground?

Isaac and Mary playing with sparklers

Leyland and her sparkler.

Leyland, Mary and Isaac.

Gavin and Copeland enjoying the baby pool.

Sweet, sparkling Mary.

Guys cooking burgers and playing with kids.

Franchesca and Destiny

Angela and Kate

Angela and Travis

Burgers, anyone?

A view of my tiny garden from the side.

What a tiki torch should look like.

What a tiki torch should NOT look like!

What is left of the torch holder.

Greemaw and The Little Man

My Facebook post for today: Freedom! Purchased by the blood of men over 200 years ago. Maintained by the blood, sweat and tears of men and women every day thereafter. While you and I eat barbecue and hamburgurs, watch fireworks and visit with friends, someone, somewhere, is standing watch... preserving that right, and protecting this freedom. Thank a soldier for the opportunity to celebrate the birth of our nation. Be safe! Happy 4th!
**********
Whitney, Dustin, Leyland and Mary spent the day tubing in Helen. This meant I had The Little Man all to myself. I really enjoyed spending the day with him. We listened to the music tv channels. First we tried out the Sounds of the Season channel, where we enjoyed patriotic Sousa marches, then on to Toddler MTV. (Seriously... there is a cable channel with toddler music!), danced,clapped to the beat (sorta). We played Lucky, Lucky, Ride A Little Horsey, Peek-A-Boo, Hide-Under-The-Blanket, and all manner of Grandma games and silliness. I found a new tickle spot behind his ear, and reveled in his sweetness. After his bath, I put on his little USA outfit, and he was gracious enough to pose for some photos. What a sweet little man!Shortly after he went to sleep, the rest of the family arrived home... totally worn out, after a full day of tubing. Leyland took the airborne route through the swift water that runs right through town... fortunately straight into the arms of an attendant, who quickly restored her back onto the tube with her mommy. I think it scared Whitney more than Leyland!

Obviously, we didn't make it to any of the fireworks festivities this evening. That's my favorite part of the holiday tradition, and I missed going. We watched it in HD on TV, though. I must say, once it was all over, I was really glad I didn't go, and be stuck in traffic somewhere for hours. There will be pictures, though... I took photos of the television! Seriously silly, but you know I gotta have a picture of fireworks for the scrapbook! Even if I had to take photos of the TV!! Once it was all over, we went outside to finish off the sparklers left over from last night.
And speaking of last night... Whitney and Dustin invited some friends over to grill some burgers and try out the pool they have put up in the back yard. Oh, yes, it was a veritable children's playground. Two kiddie pools, a sand box, and a climbing thingy with a sliding board. Having company is a good thing... the house gets a good cleaning. My patio has been in disarray far longer than I intended. The freezer has been on the patio since construction began on my new room. That was in January. We've been trying to get it indoors for months now, and finally got it done this week. I established a new little flower bed. It still looks "newly planted", but when the plants relax a little and get some new growth, I think it will be pretty. I sure hope so. My muscles keep reminding me of how hard I worked. Have you ever planted flowers by moonlight? Yep, we worked far into the morning with preparations. Party or not... it felt really good to complete some long overdue chores. The pool was a big hit with the children, and there were some tired little boys and girls when bedtime rolled around.

I learned a valuable lesson yesterday. Don't buy the 2 for $5.00 tiki torches. You know, the ones made out of straw. I have two nicer resin-like ones that I've had for several years. Trying to be budget-minded, I opted for the cheap versions. Because I lost a can of pork-n-beans, I had to run to the store and pick up another can. Upon my return, I notice a big cloud of smoke in the yard. Assuming Dustin had lit the grill, I saw no cause for alarm. However, I soon discovered that one of the tiki torches suddenly went up in flames, and burned the entire holder thingy. Plus, a small circle of grass at the base of the torch. At least there was plenty of water handy to douse the blaze before it became a problem. So. No more cheapo tiki torches for me!

July 4th always has been one of my favorite holidays. I'm such a nerd that I get teary-eyed listening to the Sousa music, watching the fireworks, seeing the service men and women on tv sending messages back home to loved ones. Even throughout the year, saying the Pledge to the Flag (on those rare occations when we are called to do so), or singing "America The Beautiful" in church, standing with my hand over my heart when The Star-Spangled Banner" is played... Oh yes, these are major teary-eyed/lumpy-throat events. A few years ago, while at the airport, I walked past a group of soldiers on their way to a deployment. I mouthed the words "thank you" to as many as I could make eye contact with. The lump in my throat prevented me from saying the words aloud. Regardless of the myriad of things wrong in our nation today, it is these men and women who sacrifice their families, careers, and blood... these soldiers, who make up much of what is right in our nation. Just as those men on the North Bridge in Concord and those Minutemen in Lexington. Just doing the right thing. The birth of a nation, as well as the birth of a Savior, is certainly worth celebrating. We just need to be careful, on both occasions, not to get so terribly caught up in the hooplah that we forget what is truly important. I love the quote "Freedom is not free". Never was, never will be. Happy Birthday, America! God Bless America!!

Girls' Weekend!

There's nothing like spending time in the company of girlfriends. Even if it is family! Marynell and I spent the weekend at Mary Kay's house. Peter (their brother) was banned from the house, and spent the weekend at MNs. It was a fabulous weekend of marathon scrapbooking for me, and card-making for MK and MN. I started (and completed!) an entire gift album. We stayed up until 4 a.m. Saturday morning working on our projects, and til 1 or 2 am on Sunday morning. Dinner Saturday night at a wonderful Chinese place called BoBo's off of Pleasant Hill (check it out if you're in the area). Such a delightful change to my routine with crafting, food, fun, and OH SO MUCH laughing!!! Being around those two is certainly an endorphine-producing event.

Then when I returned home, my house was spic n span clean. Normally when I come home from a weekend away, my home is a disaster, but she worked very hard to keep it clean, and do lots of extra things. Oh yes. It was a great weekend.

Minutes are low at work, so instead of a 12-hour day today, it's an 8-hour day, and I'm just now about to get started at 3 pm instead of 11 am.

Corey has tubes put in his ears tomorrow, so please remember him in your prayers (and my mom and dad tonight- Leyland will stay overnight with them since we have to be at the hospital so early tomorrow!) Have a good week, everyone!!

Happy Birthday Dad!

Yesterday (Saturday, June 27) was my dad's birthday. I forgot to call him. :-( We had a little cookout at his house on Thursday night to celebrate Father's Day and his birthday. Michael came down, Whitney and the kids and I went over for a nice evening of burgers and dogs and some good old family time. My dad is one of those dads who can do anything. Well, maybe not ANYthing any more... it's hard to realize that he is 78 years old, so physically he isn't able to hold out as long as he once could. He's a jack-of-all-trades, an amazing craftsman, and a most wonderful family man. He loves his kids, his grandkids, and absolutely dotes on his great grandkids. He and my mom just love to have them visit. Kinda keeps 'em young, I think. Up until the digital electronic age came along, there was hardly anything we could break or mess up that he couldn't fix. He loves tinkering around with things, fixing things, creating things, and building things. His current project is building a Model T (or maybe a Model A... I don't remember) car from scratch. He is having the time of his life building this car. He's hoping to have it ready by the end of August for the Sunflower Festival in town. Stop by and see him if you make it to the festival.

He is an incredible man, and I'm so lucky to have him for a father. I suppose somewhere in the recesses of my mind, since we celebrated on Thursday night, I just thought that his birthday was over. I was a busy girl this weekend playing in MK and MNs craft room working on a gift album, and I honestly didn't even think about it. I was so focused on "getting away", that I just plain, flat out forgot that it was his birthday. I'm so sorry, Dad!! I know you had a busy weekend too... and I hope you had a wonderful day yesterday! I love you very much!!!
Thanks for all you do for us!!!

Happy Anniversary!

Yesterday (Monday) was my mom and dad's 52nd wedding anniversary. My mom totally forgot. How funny is that. The husband usually gets accused of forgetting, but I don't think my dad has ever forgotten. At any rate, way to go, Mom and Dad. I can't imagine doing anything for 52 years, much less living with the same person!! Happy Anniversary!

CPAP, CCATH, And The Georgia Theatre

Well, what a day Friday was. Ipicked up my cpap machine, and thankfully, it is nothing like the monstrosity I had to wear for the titration study. (That's not me in this picture, but this is what my mask looks like.) I believe I can make it work. I'm expecting great things.

All the way on the drive down to Athens, I was watching the horizon for black smoke. We learned early Friday morning that the Georgia Theatre was ablaze. According to the radio, downtown was pretty chaotic, with the power grid being shut down, and many streets closed. Though I am not necessarily a patron of local bands (excluding my brother's band) and didn't frequent the theatre, it still struck a chord of sadness when I learned it was burning. Athens has been home to several bands who have "made it" on the music scene, and the Georgia Theatre was the venue of choice back in the day. Some of our more famous local bands include REM, Widespread Panic, B-52s, as well as some lesser-known, but up-and-coming acts, Corey Smith being the only one coming to mind right now. I remember when it was a movie house. At any rate, it has long been a landmark for Athens, and it is sad to lose that. The owner hopes to rebuild. But back to the smoke... I couldn't believe that I wasn't seeing any smoke at all, and decided that when I left the pulmonary clinic, I'd do exactly what the city government, fire officials, and the DJ on the radio said NOT to do... and that was drive downtown to do a little rubbernecking of my own. While I was being fitted for my mask, however, I started experiencing an excruciating pain in my right jaw. Not having any dental issues that I'm aware of, I was alarmed that it could be related to my as-yet-undiagnosed cardiac "condition". The pain subsided somewhat, enough that I was able to indeed drive downtown. Most folks had stayed home, so there weren't many cars in town at all. Lots of foot and bike traffic though, and lots of spectators were on hand. A few traffic lights were out, but I was able to drive behind the theatre. Not much to see, just some firemen in bucket trucks dousing the smoldering ruins, but the outside walls were still intact.

From that adventure, I went into Sam's to upload some photos. I was feeling pretty bad again, and sought out the refuge of one of the sofas in the furniture section to await my photos. Now I've heard of left-sided jaw pain being a flag for cardiac issues, but never the right side. I called Dr. F's office (my oral surgery transcription account) to see what he would think. If anybody knows jaws, it's Dr. F. He said it didn't matter, left or right, and to call my cardiologist right away. I just wanted to go home and take some anti-reflux medicine and take a nap. And then go to Wild Bill's to hear the band. I called my mom, and we tried to decide if I should go get it checked. I picked up the photos, got in my car and was in the left-turn lane to go home when my jaw pain pumped up a notch. I knew I already didn't feel like going to the show. I knew if I called my cardiologist's office or my PCP's office they would tell me to go to the ER. So, I decided to just go. I did call the cardiologist on the way to let them know I would be going. Unknown to me, he went ahead and alerted the ER and instructed them to prepare me for a cath. That fine-looking ER doctor, Dr. H, was the bearer of that news. I joked with him that it must be time for Dr. S's car payment. This was not a total surprise, but so not what I wanted to hear. It would likely mean an overnight admission... something I totally didn't want. I called mom and dad, who were already prepared to come down there (as I figured they would). It was amazing. I walked into the ER right about noon, and by 3:30, I had finished my cath, completed recovery, and we were on the way to get some dinner. (I was rushing the staff so we could make it to dinner before the Senior Citizen Discount hour was over. NO I'm not really a senior citizen, but some places will give me the discount, so my daddy just says "three seniors". Getting older does have SOME advantages!) The most interesting aspect of the cath is that they did it through the radial (wrist) artery, and not the femoral (groin) artery. The femoral approach would have entailed a far greater recovery time, more painful, and probably an overnight stay, since it would be later afternoon before doing it. The radial route recovery time was about an hour. In all my years of transcribing cath reports, I have never heard of using the radial artery approach. There's only one guy in Athens who does it, and he happens to be the partner of my (and Whitney's ) electrophysiologist/cardiologist. And he happened to be on call yesterday afternoon. I was pretty much bucking the whole idea, because 1) I didn't want to bother with it (don't have time for such things you know), 2) I was scheduled to work the next day, and they told me I could not work, 3) I wanted to go hear the band. However... I relented... (I guess I was alarmed enough to justify it). So much the better, since another episode was bound to happen, and maybe I wouldn't have got the really cute ER doctor (which probably did little to help my heart rate and blood pressure...haha), but most importantly, I may not have gotten Dr. K., who did the radial artery thing.

The final diagnosis is... my heart is clear!! Yay!!! Dr. S. had previously encouraged me to get a cath, based on some minor abnormalities on two prior cardiac tests, but relented to let me postpone it, with the admonition that should I have another episode, he would insist. Now that it's all over with, I am relieved to know that my symptoms are not cardiac related, and at least I no longer have that "threat" of getting a cath hanging over my head. Two of my co-workers were gracious enough to cover the hours that I had been scheduled, so that worry was relieved. After dinner, I went home to my mom and dad's house, because their house is a bit more peaceful and much quieter than my house. :-) I enjoyed a nice visit with my parents, slept more soundly than I have in a long time ;-\ and picked up a good book along the way. I've returned back to The 409 now. The Veals have gone to Zoo Atlanta today, so it should be nice and quiet. I'm going to finish the book I started, and watch a movie that Whitney and Kate got yesterday. And I'll probably take a nap or two.

Not the Friday I had planned on. Not a Friday I hope to experience again. But all's well that end's well, I suppose, and I continue to be thankful for all my blessings.

Made In The U.S.A.

It has long chapped my britches that so much of the stuff we buy is made in other countries. It has hit home a little harder since the recent problems with tainted chocolate candy from China. I found myself stopping strangers in the store when I saw them looking at bags of "generic" chocolate at Halloween and Easter, telling them to be sure they weren't buying candy made in China. When the kids brought home their Halloween candy, we went through and took out all the "generic" chocolate candy. Not that we are snobs, we just didn't want our children to get sick or poisoned. Same deal with kitties and doggies. Remember the folks who lost their pets because of the tainted food from China? Of course, no manufacturer is exempt from fluke contamination issues, as we have recently seen here in the USA with peanut butter and various fruits/vegetables/meats over the past few years. Those events were indeed tragic, but somehow they seem a little less sinister than those caused by tainted products imported from outside the walls of our country, where the regulations are minimal to non-existent. At least in the USA an effort is made to verify the safety and quality of the products through various government agencies that mandate inspection of the products. Besides the quality-control issue, is the fact that when we buy imported products, (especially from American-owned companies who have outsourced their work force) we are supporting the very concept that has resulted in the loss of thousands, perhaps millions of jobs across our land. The mentality that the American business owner can profit more by paying pennies on the dollar to overseas employees is a practice that should be ILLEGAL in this country, and their products should be boycotted by all American citizens. I have firsthand knowledge of this situation, because medical transcription has been outsourced to "transcriptionists" in India and Pakistan for quite some time now. I don't blame those women, they are just trying to feed their babies, in a country that puts low value on women to start with. They are able to make good money (for them) at a fraction of what it costs to pay a medical transcriptionist here at home. :::I need to get off this soapbox right now... my blood pressure is starting to rise:::

I'll have to revisit this post topic again sometime. For right now, though, I'd like to share an e-mail I received (that prompted this post topic). Disclaimer- As with everything I post that I "hijack" from somebody else, I can't validate any of these statements. However, it doesn't really matter to me if the specifics are accurate... the principle that it brings to mind is indeed valid. Here ya go. And remember: Buy American whenever possible!!!!!
************************************
the e-mail reads: Check this out. I can verify this because I was in Lowes theother day for some reason and just for the heck of it I was looking at the hose attachments. They were all made in China. The next day I was in Ace Hardware and just for the heck of it I checked the hose attachments there. They were made in USA . Start looking. In our current economic situation, every little thing we buy or do affects someone else - even their job. So, after reading this email,I think this lady is on the right track. Let's get behind her! My grandson likes Hershey's candy. I noticed, though, that it is marked made in Mexico now. I do not buy it any more. My favorite toothpaste Colgate is made in Mexico now. I have switched to Crest. You have to read the labels on everything. This past weekend I was at Kroger. I needed 60 W light bulbs and Bounce dryer sheets. I was in the light bulb aisle, and right next tothe GE brand I normally buy was an off brand labeled, "Everyday Value." I picked up both types of bulbs and compared the stats - they were the same except for the price. The GE bulbs were more money than the Everyday Value brand but the thing that surprised me the most was thefact that GE was made in MEXICO and the Everyday Value brand was made in- get ready for this - the USA in a company in Cleveland , Ohio. So throw out the myth that you cannot find products you use every day that are made right here. So on to another aisle - Bounce Dryer Sheets....yep, you guessed it, Bounce cost more money and is made in Canada . The Everyday Value brand was less money and MADE IN THE USA! I did laundry yesterday and the dryer sheets performed just like the Bounce Free I have been usingfor years and at almost half the price! So my challenge to you is to start reading the labels when you shop for everyday things and see what you can find that is made in theUSA - the job you save may be your own or your neighbor's! (emphasis Cathy) We need to start buying American, one light bulb at atime! Stop buying from overseas companies! (We should have awakened a decade ago......) Let's get with the program.... help our fellow Americans keep their jobs and create more jobs here in the U.S.A.
**************

Get the picture? Let's buy American Made as much as possible. Let's educate ourselves in which manufacturers, though they may be American-owned, embrace overseas labor practices to realize more profit- at the expense of American jobs. Let's read those labels in the store and choose the products made right here at home.

(And now, having "preached" this little sermon, I will probably cringe to find that my favorite products are imported... and I'll have to suffer needless loss... Sigh.....Sometimes doing the right thing isn't the fun or easy thing.)

The Link Within

I don't know if you noticed or not, but I have added a gadget that supposedly relates the current post to similar posts in the past, and offers you a link to read that post. I have no idea how this works. Or even if it does work. Sometimes I just laugh when I see the prior posts that it associates with a current one. And sometimes if I go back and look, the linked post has changed. Crazy. So let's see what former posts will be linked to this one....

Friday- A Big Day!

I'm looking to have a pretty big day on Friday. First and foremost, I'll be going out Friday evening to enjoy the awesome sound of Departure at Wild Bill's. I'm working Saturday, so it's doubtful that I'll get to stay and see the entire show. That's too bad... I just love the encore part! Normally I don't work on Saturdays any more, but it worked out beautifully for my co-worker, Jeneine, and I to swap days so that I could be off the Sunday of Corey's birthday, and she has a family reunion on Saturday. Talk about a win-win!! That's a really great thing about my job. There's usually always someone willing to cover or swap schedules when someone needs or wants to be off. Sorry. Off topic there. Just had to give a shout-out to those co-workers so willing to be flexible! Back to Friday. So, I'm going to hear the band. Hopefully some friends will be able to join me, and it will be a nice change from my routine.

Another exciting thing about Friday is that I have an appointment to get fitted for my CPAP! I thought I had to wait another two weeks, after my appointment with the doctor, but the DME office called yesterday, and I'm scheduled to go in Friday morning. Yipeee! (or maybe Uh Oh!... I'm not sure whether to look forward to this thing or to dread it. The more I look at pictures of these things, the more apprehensive I become. However, for the time being, I'm going to be optimistic and look forward to it. I don't know if mine will look like the one pictured here or not. I'm really hoping to get one that doesn't have a thing between my eyes. That would interfere greately with the late-night watching of Nightline and Jimmy Kimmel.) Dare I hope that the contraption will facilitate a healthy night's sleep? Is it possible to actually wake up in the morning without a headache? Do you think perhaps my memory/forgetfulness will improve? Tune in later for my personal review of the experience.

Today the major task at hand is to seek and destroy two tiny little winged creatures that are practicing their stunt routines in my work space. I am freshly showered, and there are no fermenting food particles on my desk, so I'm not certain why they are buzzing about, how they got in here, or why they insist on coming so close to my face. A person looking through my window might think I have gone mad... for all the slapping at my own face, and batting unseen (to them) objects in mid air.

AHA! There! I got one! One down, one to go.

Congratulations!

Congratulations to Micaela and Jeremy B.! On the last day of school, Jeremy received the award for Academic Excellence for having the highest GPA of the entire third grade: 99 average! Go Jeremy!! Micaela was in the top five of her 6th grade class with an average of 97.66!! You Go Girl!!! It is truly refreshing to see such bright, promising youngsters, who also exemplify true character and integrity. Dale and Tangela, you're doing a fine job. I know ya'll are so proud! Keep up the good work!

All That Agony....

And no definitive answer. I transcribed my sleep study last night, and the physician said my study was a "challenging" titration for several reasons, including the fact that my sleep was very fragmented, but also the fact that the oxyhemoglobin probe was not functioning for the major portion of the study. At the highest tested pressure of 10 cm water, I was only asleep for 10 minutes, during which there was no REM sleep. (REM sleep is usually the time that the events are the worst, and titration results are best obtained in REM.) In the Recommendations section, he said that should I have difficulties with control of the sleep-disordered breathing at 10 cm, repeat CPAP titration vs home aut0-CPAP titration should be considered.

Can I just say grrrrrrrr?!?!?!?!?

My follow-up appointment with the doctor is next Friday, the 26th. Hopefully I'll move forward with the CPAP, and get some reassurance that, despite the suboptimal results of the titration, we'll be able to tame this beast.

Other than that, it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood and I'm counting my blessings! Please continue to remember Delores, who returns to Texas next week for an exciting new (for her) chemotherapy regimen.

CPAP Study Completed

The grit behind my eyelids may limit my ability to compose a coherent post. Oh yes. It was just as brutal as my initial sleep study, in a couldn't-go-to-sleep kind of way. I had requested from my friend Pam at the Sleep Lab that I be assigned to the same tech, a wonderful guy named Reuben. Fortunately for me, he was on duty last night and again did an amazing job with my case. Let me just say, I am so glad it is over. Next stop- Dr. Lazenby and Chuck, then on to the DME for the fitting of my own personal alien mask.

Here are a couple of (HORRIBLE) photos taken from my cell phone. Refrain from the fat-girl-in-her-jammies comments, if you please.


I've written a little ditty to commemorate my night of torture.

'Twas the night of my CPAP, and all through my room,
Not a creature was sleeping: my REM stage was doomed.
I wiggled and squirmed all snug in my bed,
With thousands of electrodes stuck to my head.
The alien mask, so snug on my face,
Delivering air at a pressured pace,
Did little to help my insomniac state,
As the minutes ticked by at such a fast rate.
The sheep were just laughing, and hopping about,
Impossible to count, so I shooed them all out.
The blinking red light above on the ceiling,
Reminded me constantly of how I was feeling.
Eyes wide open, then shut really tight,
On again, off again, like that stupid red light.
At least my tech Reuben was as nice as could be,
And did his best to make it comfy for me.
When at last Mr. Sandman appeared by my bed,
He bid me to sleep with a nod of his head.
Morning came soon, then up for a shower.
Removing the hair-glue took nearly an hour.
Now that it's over, I'm ever so pleased,
And tonight I am hopeful to catch me some Zs.
You'll hear me exclaim when I turn out my light,
I can't wait to sleep in my own bed tonight!

Gimme A Break

I'm not an Oprah fan. I used to be. I was terribly put off by her remarks about Jesus. There are many who share her views that Jesus is not the only way to salvation. There are many who believe we are not in need of any kind of salvation at all. My faith leads me to believe otherwise. And while I respect the right of each person to believe what they may (God is good that way… he doesn't force us to believe His way, he lets us choose for our own self), I personally believe that Jesus is the only way. I'm not going to get into a theology discussion here, or discuss the merits of those who live good lives. I only know what I feel to be true in my own heart. I'm just explaining, if anyone is interested, why I am no longer an Oprah fan. I don't base it on that one comment alone, but as well, the theology that she has publicly embraced, and offers to her millions of viewers. That she has been made a goddess of sorts, makes the offering far more enticing to millions of people who, seeking to fill that God-given void in our hearts and our spirits, will lap it up like kittens with a fresh saucer of warm milk. If Oprah says it, then it must be gospel. Now, I will be the first to admit, that her shows are entertaining, often informative, and I have discovered some really neat folks who have been guests on the show (Mattie Stepanek and Il Divo, being my favorites.) I'm also aware that Oprah does some really great things (albeit sometimes stupid things) with her gazillions, and she is a philanthropist in the truest sense of the word. I'm not about Oprah-bashing.... I'm just no longer a fan who thinks she is All That. I'm working when her show comes on, so whether or not to watch is a non-issue. I will also admit that if there is a scheduled guest that I like, I will tune in, if possible. But it's kind of like an AA meeting. Take what you need (or want, in this case) and leave the rest. But for the most part, I don't watch her any more, and I have canceled my "membership" to her website. Yesterday, due to low hospital census and lack of work, I took the day off. I was in my office doing some chores, and the Oprah show came on. In my busyness, I didn't change the channel. I almost did, because the topic was Spirituality 101. I figured it would be the usual poppycock theologies that she embraces, but I decided to watch while I finished my chores. She had three "Spiritual" people on her panel. I don't remember their names, nor who/what they represented. One was a black male minister of some sort, one was a white male dressed in a priest outfit, (who said that being gay was a blessing from God… and even Oprah said he was the first minister she had heard actually say that!) and one was a white female who had written a book of some kind. I'm not going to get into what they discussed, nor how they advised the people who Skyped in. What I'm going to focus on is the comparison between two women who Skyped in with questions for the "leaders". You can read more on the episode here on her website if you want.

The first Skyper was what appeared to be a young/middle-aged black woman who seemed to have the weight of the world on her shoulders. She and her husband had invested all their savings into a business venture (I forgot what kind), and in these tough economic times, their business was failing. She said she had many family members who were dependent upon her success at running the business, and even had a grandchild whom she was raising. Her question was how best to survive this situation and remain positive and hopeful. It was very easy to sympathize with this woman, and I truly wish her well.

The second Skyper was a white woman, hard to tell her age, maybe 30s/early 40s. She was sitting in a very nicely-decorated room, her hair, makeup and nails finely done, wearing a really pretty outfit. Her dilemma was: How can I feel good about myself when I am taxiing my kids around and doing laundry and cleaning the toilet? She was also fretting that she is identified as "somebody's mom". [Okay, I can identify with that, especially with teenagers. I was always "Whitney's mom". The main difference is… I had no problem with that. It brought me great joy to introduce myself to her friends or their parents as "Whitney's mom". I still do it, even though Whitney is all grown up!] She continued to whine that her husband works and is also in law school, and it was a "family decision" to support him. But "I feel like I want it to be MY turn."

I pretty much stopped my chores and sat there with my jaw dropped to the floor. You have got to be KIDDING me!! Lady. How can you possibly sit on national TV and whine about your poor, pitiful existence. Do you not realize how many people out there would LOVE to be identified as "Somebody's Mother"??? Women who have been unable to bear children of their own, or mothers who have lost their children?? Not to imply that you don't love your kids, I'm sure you do, but Get Out!! And you want to feel important when you are doing the laundry and cleaning your toilet?? Do you watch the news? Do you realize that every day people are losing the opportunity to do those mundane chores when they are forced to leave their homes? Do you see people who live in cardboard boxes? Do you see people in third world countries who would love to even drink the water from your clean toilet? Do you see children with flies and bugs crawling on their naked little bodies? They don't even own clothes. I am sure those mothers would be delighted to wash clothes on the rocks down by the river… if they only had clothes to begin with.

Ma'am, I hate to burst your bubble… but it already IS your turn. You have no idea how blessed you are to have children. To have a car and gasoline with which to taxi them around. To have friends by whom you are known as "Your Kids' Mom". That your husband has a job. That he is able to attend law school, likely securing an even greater financial future for your family than you already enjoy. That you not only have clothes to launder, but the appliances and the electricity with which to do so. That you are able to sit on a nice porcelain potty, and that you can buy the cleaning products with which to clean it.
I hope when you replay your DVRd version of Oprah, that you are ashamed and embarrassed by your narcissism and hedonistic presentation. You are indeed a pitiful woman... not because of what you lack.... but because you are too blind to see what you DO have.

Praying for zzzzzzzzzzzs

Later tonight I'll be visiting the sleep lab again. I'll be hooked up with all the wires and tubes, and be expected to sleep. On my back. With yet another appliance strapped to my face, forcing a continuous flow of pressurized air through my nose/mouth. I'm hopeful that the end result will be an apparatus that will allow me to sleep soundly, and eradicate the daytime sleepiness, and all the other problems resulting from sleep apnea. If I can just survive another night at the sleep lab.

Bumper Sticker

Corey Turns One!!

It's hard to believe that a year has passed since Corey joined our family! Where does the time go? I remember the initial disappointment I felt when we found out he was a boy. I had hoped for another girl. It had been 23 years since we had a little boy on my side of the family, and on the Bennett side it had been 45 years! Whatever would we do with a noisy, smelly, rambunctious little boy who would play with bugs, want to go fishin' and play football? We had been buying hairbows, lacy socks and girly girl things for two generations. Thankfully, however, it didn't take me long to become accustomed to the idea, and soon I began shopping for those cute little boy clothes. There really are some cute little boy things to be had, and I was starting to get excited about trucks, cars, dinasaurs, baseball caps and even the thought of going fishing with the little fellow. By the time he arrived, Whitney and I had decided that having a boy was probably the best thing anyway... that way we wouldn't be forced to compare two little girls... after all... nothing could compare to Leyland!! So we were delighted with our new little bundle of blue, who stole our hearts with his first breath. (The bugs, the fishing, and the sports stuff is yet to come, but I know it will be just as much fun as playing with baby dolls, dress-up, and watching princess movies.)

You may remember that Whitney and her best friend Jessica both delivered their sweet baby boys on the same day. Corey and Corbin have been best buds since then. The girls decided to have a joint birthday party to celebrate the first birthday. The plan was to have Corbin's guests arrive at 2:00, and let him open his gifts. Corey's guests were invited to arrive at 3:00, at which time we would all have cake, ice cream and refreshments together, then Corey would open his gifts. It was the perfect plan... except there was a little "intermission" time between when Corbin finished opening his packages and the time Corey's guests arrived. At last, it was time to sing Happy Birthday and let the boys dig into their cakes for the obligatory 1st Birthday Cake Mess, and the photo ops that such a mess would provide. Corbin enjoyed mutilating and eating his little personal cake, but Corey didn't much care for it. He was pretty tired by then, and starting to fret a bit. He rallied though, enough to enjoy opening his gifts. It was a lovely day, albeit one that left us weary, and happy to have survived the festivities. I've attached a few pictures for your enjoyment. (Sometimes you can click to enlarge.) HAPPY BIRTHDAY COREY & CORBIN! I love you boys!

Results Just In..

Actually the results were in yesterday. I typed my sleep study report, and it's official. I have "moderate" apnea during normal sleep stages, and "severe" apnea during REM sleep. To be technical, it's really hypopnea, not apnea, that I have, but the end result is the same... sleep disordered breathing. Though I figured I'd probably have to go back, after doing the report and knowing for sure, I was kinda bummed out about it. While I know that a better sleep regimen will help so MANY of my issues, I'm still dreading the next study. In addition to all the wires and monitors, I'll also be wearing the space alien mask, and while I'm sleeping, (a big fat HA!) they will titrate the pressure to try and find the optimal setting-- one that reflects the fewest events per hour. This weekend was particularly bad, as I awoke with a headache on Saturday morning, and after my usual routine of Taking-Advil-Sleeping-It-Off didn't work, I knew I was in for the long haul on Saturday. Unfortunately, it was still present on Sunday, and I swallowed more Advil over those two days than I should have. Then of course that makes my stomach ulcer hurt. Today the headache is gone, so for that I am very grateful. This photo shows one of the many different styles of CPAP machines. While I am looking forward to ridding myself of the sleep apnea issues, I'm not looking forward wearing this contraption. How in the world will I sleep on my stomach and bury my nose between the other pillow and mattress? That's going to take some getting used to for sure. There are less "obnoxious" face masks out there, but I'm sure I'll be at the mercy of my insurance plan, and I don't imagine they will approve the Cadillac version right off the bat. Oh well, those are challenges for another day... I'll face them when they come.

I'm toying with the idea of joining the STMH Fitness Center out at The Exchange. It's about a 15-20 minute drive one way, but the gym is open 24/7. I've dug out my old Walk Away The Pounds videos, which will really kick your butt at the three-mile level. That's as far as I got with them, though.. is diggin them out, and filing them neatly in the bookcase beside my desk. And I also found the resistance bands that came with the videos. My room is nice and big enough to do the workouts, so perhaps I'll wait and see how faithful I am at doing that workout before committing to paying for and driving to the STMH gym. As an employee, the membership fee is incredibly low, plus the convenience of payroll deduction. I think I'll wait until after I'm on the CPAP for a month or so, to see how getting the proper amount of sleep is going to change my life.

I am taking baby steps toward becoming a healthier me, and even started another blog for my own personal use, in which to journal food intake, goals, record of FBS readings and check boxes for taking meds. Since I enjoy blogging so much, I thought it might be a motivating thing for me. I'm not going to make it public, but if anyone wants to follow it to offer encouragement or to follow my progress, just let me know, and I'll get you there. I've given up on the "Magic" diet or program, the one that will make me look like a model in six weeks. Right now I'm not even on a regimented program... the first baby step is simply being aware of my issues, (getting my head out of the sand!) and a concentrated effort to start doing better, a tiny bit at a time. My new philosophy is that if I change my behavior with regard to eating and activity, then weight loss will follow. And if I can just make a few changes for a few weeks, then perhaps new habits will be formed and I'll feel better and live longer. Now that's gotta be a win-win... right?

Missing Church- Again!

Well, I suppose my pastor and my church family must surely think I've fallen off the face of the earth. This is the third Sunday in a row that I haven't made it. I feel like a huge part of my week is missing when I don't make it. I have the most wonderful SS class ever... (I call us the Rejects. A few years ago Bro. Gordon announced a new class for folks who normally didn't go to SS, or who felt they didn't really fit in to the already-established classes. Thus my title- the Rejects. Ha!) I have really gotten to know my pastor during these classes, and was delighted to find that he's a normal kind of guy like the rest of us, really funny in a dry sort of way, and extremely smart about a lot of things. With most pastors I know, there was always the need, for me personally, to be on my "best behavior", and important for them to think that I'm probably a *better* Christian than I really am. What I really appreciate about this guy is that I can be myself, warts and all, and don't feel like he judges me for the areas that need improvement. And he's pretty much not afraid for us to see his warts and all too. If he doesn't know something, he'll tell you he doesn't know. He doesn't try to act like he is so spiritually far above us that he has all the answers. He is kinda tricky, though, when he asks questions... and will just laugh when our eyes glass over, or when someone gives an answer from left field. Not in a condemning fashion-- he just loves to "trick" us... to inspire us to think outside the box sometimes, and to examine the possible answers. In our class, most anything goes. He doesn't get all puffed up or high and mighty about what he knows compared to what we don't know. No question is a stupid question. We spend equally as much time off on tangents as we do on whatever lesson he has planned for us. Which to me is great. It is the best SS class I've ever been in, and it makes me irritated when things come up (like oversleeping, or my morning headaches that make me feel lousy) that keep me away. The fact that I work Sundays from 12:30 til 9 pm is sometimes an *excuse* that I will use for not draggin' myself out of the bed, especially on a morning where I can't rid myself of a headache. I have to sneak out every Sunday during the invitation hymn to get home in time to fire up the computer and get settled in to work. But I'm so thankful that my work schedule will allow me to attend church, therefore working on Sundays isn't even a valid reason for missing church.

I did discover that one of my favorite pulpit-preacher/teacher types, John Tally from FB Winder, is on one of our local access TV channels. I went there when I lived in Winder, and though I never quite found my niche in SS or the social aspect of the church family, I dearly loved his weekly sermons, and how they taught us to live every week. So, I try to tune in to those broadcasts, especially when I miss my own church services.

(Oh, and, okay, Bro. Gordon, I know you will read this at some point, so don't go gettin' too big for your britches because I'm saying nice things about you....)

So. For the situations beyond my control, I obviously can't change anything. But for the rest of the time, I am hoping to get back in the swing of things and get myself to that class that means so much to me.

Now it's off to work for the afternoon/evening.

A Very Busy Saturday

Happy Saturday! I'm in full Greemaw mode again, as the babies returned home yesterday, and I got me some sweet baby lovin. They were all tired and worn out from the drive home, and we all crashed relatively early last night. Whitney had another episode with her heart in the wee hours of the morning, when Leyland startled her from a deep sleep, and after thirty or so minutes she still hadn't converted. Dustin took her to the hospital, but ironically, as they pulled into the parking lot she converted, and they came back home. She is to follow up with her doctor for a referral to an electrophysiologist (the same one I saw) next week. Hopefully they'll figure out exactly what it is and how best to treat it.

This morning I was able to do one of my most favorite things in the world... sit on the deck at DJs, drink coffee and visit. Ahhh. Perfect morning. A bit noisy, as one of our neighbors was cutting down some trees, but even the buzzing of the chainsaw didn't deter us from enjoying the morning air and the company of family and friends. Since returning home from DJs, I've been working in my room, reorganizing and rearranging furniture. Dustin has removed the old tvs, and I'm still rearranging. And yes, I'm just as anal about arranging furniture and organizing "stuff" as I am about arranging photos and elements on my scrapbook pages! I'll spend another hour or so on this project, maybe grab a nap in one final attempt to rid myself of yet another all-day-headache. Then it's back over to DJs to do another of my favorite things in the whole world... enjoy a juicy, medium-rare, super-delicious David Steak! We're having a cookout tonight as a Good-Luck-Send-Off for (DJ's sister) Delores and Donald. They're leaving tomorrow for Texas, where Delores is scheduled to undergo testing and treatment at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. I believe the plan is a minimum two-week stay, with the possibility of participating in an eight-week program. She's really fought this thing, and we're so happy that she's going to this world-renowned cancer center to participate in cutting edge treatment and technology. Please remember her and the entire family in your prayers. Not only is this going on, but Mama Jo, DJ and Del's mom, is in the hospital following yet another stroke, and is facing a rough, rocky, uphill road. It's a lot to be happening in one family at the same time, but we trust that if God does not still the turbulent waters, then He will surely still the souls of those who are tossed about, and grant peace in their hearts.

So.. it has turned out to be a very busy, very productive Saturday. Gosh, I love it when that happens!!! The house is quiet again; the Veals have gone to visit PawPaw. That bodes well for a Greemaw nap, after I finish up a few more things. Happy Saturday!!!

Sleep Study Completed

But may I just go on record as saying... they have incorrectly named this diagnostic procedure. It should be Sleepless Study. My first disappointment was when I realized I forgot my camera. You know, the scrapbook geek in me has to document everything with photos! So I'll have to settle for finding an image on the internet. While doing a Google search for some images depicting the study, I came across the blog of a gal who pegged it just perfectly, so if you're interested in the details, check this out: Sally's Sleep Study. If you're not interested in the details, I'll bore you with them anyway. I was somewhat looking forward to the adventure, excited to be one step closer to resolving the daytime-sleepiness issues I've been dealing with. I was good to go with my laptop, an Advance (health information) magazine, a good book... anything I thought might help me relax and settle in for a quiet evening. Wrong. After donning my jammies, my sleep tech came in to "wire me up". Friends... that is an understatement. He had me sit in a small, straight chair, and when he turned toward me with such a plethora of electronic gadgets, I felt like a death-row inmate, having met my final destiny with The Chair. He just laughed and said he hears that all the time, but not to worry, the state wouldn't spend that much time and effort to monitor an execution. Now I know why he said that. It took a good 30-45 minutes to hook everything up. Butterbean-sized globs of magic glue were placed strategically about my scalp, to secure the EEG leads. (Ladies... remember what it was like in the olden days when we slept with curlers in our hair? ummm yep... that's a pretty good comparison.) My face was covered with sticky EKG-like pads with wires attached. A cannula was placed in my nose to measure air movement, with another little gadget hanging over my mouth to measure mouth breathing. EKG leads were placed near my collarbone. Leg-movement detectors were placed on both my legs. An elastic band with expansion-sensors was placed around my chest, and yet another around my waist. Oh and I musn't forget the pulse oximeter taped to my finger. I felt like ET!! I'm going to hijack Sally's photo here, just to give you an idea of what it looks like. The only difference is the patches on my face were larger than hers appear to be. My eye patches came virtually across my cheekbones also, like the black marks you see on football players' faces. And I had long white patches covering my mandibles. I suppose to monitor for bruxing (teeth grinding). And you can barely see Sally's snore-detector... a little microphone that they tape to your neck. All these wires are then intracately routed together, behind your ears, over the river and through the woods, ultimately to join together somewhere behind your neck. I was reminded of our Jamaican friends with all those braided thingies pulled back into a ponytail. And when you need to get up, they put the little box thingy (where all these wires connect) on a lanyard around your neck. At first I thought I would have to attempt sleep with that heavy little box hanging around my neck, but thankfully it was removed once I got snuggled into bed. Hmmm... snuggle.... not exactly the word I should have chosen. Now I'm all about hygiene, ya'll know that, (I wanted to question him if the wires were sanitized between patients, but forgot!), and I understand that it would be really nasty to use the same pillows all the time. But I also don't know how they could ever expect a sleep-disordered person, who has been intricately attached to countless wires and creepy things, to sleep on a pillow that rustles every time you move. Should have taken my own pillow! Not one to sleep on my back anyway, I finally had to just move the noisy pillows away. So finally a little after midnight I turn off the tv. Eyes Wide Open. I wiggle about, trying to find an unglued spot on my head to lay on. Then I am cold. And I need to go potty. I decide if I can get warm, maybe I won't have to go potty. So I call my tech, who brings me a blanket. A little later one of my leg leads came of. So I call my tech. Finally I doze a bit, then wake up... and there's no stalling (pun intended) any longer. I must go potty. So I call my tech. A wonderfully patient man who unhooks the connection, gives me my lanyard necklace, and soon I am feeling much better. Back to bed. More tossing and turning, nearly strangling myself with wires, starting to itch from the glue on my face, my head, my legs... and most of all from the tape securing the snore microphone. Mr. Sandman finally wound his way through the maze of wires and sprinkled some sleep into my weary eyes, and for a few hours I did sleep. Then my tech called me. 5:30, time to wake up! Another while to remove the leads, a shower to remove the globs of glue from my scalp, and I was out the door by 6:30. I knew that it wouldn't be an easy night. I sleep on the most comfortable mattress ever made, and I sleep on my tummy with my nose smashed into the mattress. Not on my back tethered to a box looking like Frankenstein. (Well, maybe I do look like Frankenstein...) and certainly not with people on the other end of that infrared camera and room microphone watching and listening to my every move and sound!! But I must say it was a might bit worse than I expected, and I'm already dreading the repeat performance scheduled in two weeks for the CPAP titration portion of it. There is a chance that my findings won't indicate the need for CPAP, but I expect they will. My tech told me to ask for drugs next time. I'm all over that.

One cool thing, though. I told my tech that I'm the person who will actually be transcribing the report, (as is part of my work-load assignment each day), and that I'd be typing my own report in a few days anyway, so couldn't he give me some info on how I did? He said my apnea events were in the low range, except during REM, where they doubled. And that in itself would probably necessitate the repeat study with CPAP titration. Then I asked for a tour of the "control room", and he was gracious enough to oblige and even showed me the tracings from my own personal report. (To anyone concerned, there were no confidentiality/HIPAA violations here.) I found it interesting, in a geek sort of way, to *see* exactly what it is that I'm transcribing. That part was cool.

As for the rest of the day, I think I shall attempt to clean/organize the craft room, wait anxiously to hear again the pitter-patter of little grandbaby feet about my house, and perhaps join my parents, Aunt Peg & Uncle Billy for dinner. And look forward to sleeping in my own personal, wonderful, sweet-smelling, comfy bed tonight, untethered and free as a bird. woohoo!!!!

Thanks to Sally for letting me hijack her post and her photo. I'll take my camera if I do the CPAP thing so I can have my own photos. Happy Friday!!

A Few More Beach Photos

Warning: Possible side effects of viewing this post:
~Puckering of the lips (you just wanna kiss these babies!)
~Sniffing the air in an attempt to smell the salt.
~Multiple "awwwwws" escaping your vocal cords.
~Sniffing of your favorite sunscreen, just wishing you were there.
~A sincere longing in your heart to visit the beach. (Unless of course you hate the beach, then you'll count your blessings that you are at home reading this boring blog instead of at the beach covered with sand. I'm not sure I even know anyone who would fit into that sad state of mind.)


Disclaimer: The author of this post assumes no responsibility for any of the above-mentioned side effects. View/Enjoy at your own risk. (Some photos will enlarge when you click, but some of them won't)

Thanks for looking!! You can stop puckering now!!

Babies At The Beach

The quiet in my home is almost palpable. I'm sure missing those little munchkins! They arrived safely at MB on Monday afternoon. Leyland loved her first experience of wading in the surf. Corey wasn't impressed. I've talked to Whit a few times, and they're having a blast. On Tuesday, Leyland and Mary took up with some little old ladies who were sifting through the wet sand in one of the left-over high-tide pools on the beach. Whitney says she has some great photos, but so far she hasn't been able to upload them to her facebook. She did send me a couple of photos that she took on her phone. Aren't they adorable?

Memorial Day

Memorial Day. The long holiday weekend that marks the traditional beginning of summer. A day off work. Picnics, barbeques, and parades. The end of the school year. Such fun things! Memorial Day is indeed all of these things, but ever so much more. Driving by the cemetery, I get choked up every year to see all the flags in the military section, honoring our veterans who have died. Once I even found the flag flying in honor of my Uncle Billy. That was sweet. I found this blurb about the day on the web: "Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, was instituted to honor Union soldiers who died in the Civil War. After World War I, the purpose of the day was expanded to include all men and women who died in U.S. military service." Though my Uncle Billy, and many other veterans in our cemetery, didn't actually give their life blood on the battlefield, nowadays we have somewhat adapted Memorial Day to honor all veterans, alive or deceased, for their service. As well we should honor them. My dad, my brother, all of my uncles, many in my church family, many friends, and spouses of friends, and the dads of most of my friends. To borrow a phrase from another, "All gave some, Some gave all." To those men and women who have given anything at all, whether it be short-term service, a lifelong career, their life's blood, their limbs, their mental health, their physical health.... and to the spouses and children who have sacrificed the presence of one so significant in their lives, I pause today to say... thank you. From the bottom of my heart- a heart that beats within the chest of a person who is free to worship where I please, free to live where I please, free to enjoy for myself the liberties granted to me by the blood spilled on New England soil so many years ago, the liberties still protected protected this day by those who wear the uniform of the U. S. Military. To those who gave all, to those who gave some, and to those will will give in the future: Thank you.

May the flags continue to fly proudly in cemeteries across the country, and on the doorposts of our homes, but mostly may our gratitude fly high in our hearts and our souls.

And boo-hiss to Google. I'm a huge Google fan. I use it many times, every day, both for pleasure and for work. I once watched a documentary on tv about how your graphic artists spend hundreds of hours to come up with the cute holiday/event-specific renditions of your logo. I am always amused by the cleverness, and look forward to seeing how you will incorporate the event in your logo. So today, a day in which we remember the soldiers who purchased your right to entrepreneurship and capitalism, today the only thing you can come up with is a small yellow ribbon on your home page? Shame on you!

Corey's First Haircut

Despite Candace's threat to form a picket line to protest the occasion, Corey got his first haircut on Saturday. Well, his first "real" haircut. Whitney and I had snipped off the Eddie Munster swatches of hair a few months ago, and as a result, he had a few strands of hair that were about 4 inches longer than the rest. It looked really funny when pulled straight up. The Little Man had hair enough to put in a little pony tail on top, and I had threatened to do so... but the looks Whitney gave me when I would play with his hair stopped me cold. They are preparing to leave for the beach tomorrow, and it was decided that the unruly locks must go. Besides, that little face is just too cute to be covered in boy-bangs.

Corbin's great-grandma did the honors, and both boys got a trim. Corbin is a pro at it by now, as this was his third time in the chair. What a big boy! He sat all by himself!

Below are a few photos to document the occasion. (I apologize if they appear splattered all over the page. If I post on my laptop it looks wierd on the PC. If I post on the PC it looks wierd on the laptop. I'm not going to fight with it today.) But, you know I just had to have these pictures for the scrapbook!!! I'm already designing the pages in my mind! Thanks for looking at my two most favorite little guys in the world!

BEFORE

DURING (Hmmm. not so sure about this...)

_Nope, not liking this at all...

Brave Corbin!

AFTER!

ADORABLE!!

More On The Mower

I forgot to post an update on the Lawn Mower Saga. (See edited portion of HH Gregg post) My dad and I went to Lowe's on Saturday to take the broken mower back (for the third time). At the service desk, a nice young lady called the Lawn Mower Guy to tell him we were there. I guess he must have remembered us, because the girl was just smiling into the phone, saying "it's okay"... but he didn't come up to where we were.... he just told her to refund my money and then sell me another mower for the same price. No questions, no hassles. I guess he was as tired of dealing with us as we were tired of dealing with a lemon mower. To my surprise, they even refunded the cost of the extended warranty, so that I had enough to get the extended warranty on the new one too. I'm glad to report that I was indeed smiling as we drove away with a new mower in the truck. One more good customer service experience to report. Gotta love that. Now let's hope this mower is a better-behaved machine than its predecessor!

Capitis Sanditis

Seems that the reality of getting older is more evident every day. Not necessarily because of the way I feel, but because of the number of doctor/hospital visits I've had (and scheduled for) lately. When I went for my yearly physical, I asked my doctor for a 50,000 mile tuneup (just turning 50 and all). I had a long list of questions about issues that, until passing the 50-mile marker, I have pretty much ignored. I'm a terrible patient. I don't test my blood sugar faithfully, I don't take my medications like I should, my eating habits are deplorable, and my exercise level is fairly nonexistent. That's pretty much a recipe for disaster. You'd think in my line of work, I'd be more conscientious. Every day I see (transcribe) patients whose most glaring diagnosis is capitis sanditis, or the dreaded head-in-the-sand syndrome. Those people who failed to take care of themselves earlier in life and who now are paying the consequences. That's my #1 diagnosis... and probably the most dangerous one of them all. Okay, enough self-flagellation... back to my 50,000 mile checkup:

My doctor was impressed with my sudden interest in getting a fix on where I stand health-wise, and once I read my list of concerns to her, she was quick to agree that we must indeed investigate. As a result, in the past week, I have seen a pulmonologist, and an electrophysiologist/cardiologist. I nearly killed myself walking (galloping) on an inclined treadmill with my heart injected with radiosotopes. I've had a chest x-ray, EKG, tuberculine test, and an extreme battery of bloodwork. In the upcoming three weeks, I am scheduled for two more doctor appointments, an echocardiogram, an overnight sleep study, and a CPAP titration study. Chances are good that I'll be wearing a space alien mask to sleep every night to help with the confounded extreme daytime sleepiness that plagues me each day as I sit and try to work. (Take Me To Your Leader....)

Now do you know why I feel old? It's hard to keep up with the medical appointments of my mom and dad, and it seems like the aunts and uncles spend most of their time in doctors' offices as well.

Something tells me that if I don't get a handle on this stuff ASAP, I'll be spending my golden years tethered to an exam table somewhere.....

Speaking of Weddings...

Trivia: Two important things happened 29 years ago today. Do you know what they were?

1. Mt. St. Helens erupted.
2. I got married.

Today would have been my 29th wedding anniversary, had Randy and I stayed married. My goodness... where have all the years gone? We were married for 12 years, and have been apart for 17 years. For me, the absolute worst thing about the divorce (besides the obvious effect divorce has on children) is missing the in-laws. After the first few years, though, we worked our way back to becoming close again, and I am very fortunate to enjoy a great relationship with them. And I guess the best part is that 98.9% of the time, Randy and I get along better now than when we were married. While divorce is usually never pretty, and leaves scars on many people, I am one of the fortunate ones who had the unconditional support of family and friends, and as I said above, eventually became close again to my in-laws (who, in my eyes, will forever be considered my in-laws). Whitney has a stepmom who has been very, very good to her, and for that I am most thankful. For sure, the road has been paved with boulders and potholes, and the navigation hasn't always been easy. It is still a journey... filled with ups and downs, happy times as well as challenging times. Never the destination, always the journey. I love the quote at the top of my blog that says "Things turn out best for those who make the best of how things turn out." (Art Linkletter) That is so true. I'm so very grateful that, despite the challenges of single-motherhood, working extra jobs, raising a daughter, I'm at a place in life where I'm pretty much content. Oh, things could be better, of course... there are some health issues that deserve more attention/action, and I wish things were different for some family members, but all in all... I'm extremely thankful that at the end of the day I have a nice, warm (or cool) place to lay my head, we don't lack for food on the table, I am healthy enough to work at a job I enjoy, and that there always seems to be enough money to pay the bills. Life rarely turns out how we expected it to, and mine is no exception. We make the best of what we have been given (or chosen). I believe that there are some elements of life that are within our control, while others are not. Regardless of what we possess, how much money we have, how healthy we are...there are still some people who just choose to be unhappy (void of joy). Not me. Somewhere along the molecular map of my DNA, some happy ancestor of mine passed along the happy/joy gene, and I have chosen to be happy. 100% of the time? nah... I'm a realist, 100% happiness ain't gonna happen. But.....it makes such a difference in how you view the bad things in life. When you have chosen to be happy, you know and understand that when the bad things come along... "they come to pass... not to stay." Though the rain may fall today, the sun will come out again. So.... even though I will not be celebrating 29 years of marriage, and even though there have been dark and difficult times along the way... I'm wearin' my shades, because I believe the future is still bright for me and the ones I love.

Best Wedding "First Dance" Ever!

No time to blog today, so I'll just share a little video that my friend Patty sent. Click here to see the most fabulous First Dance ever!

LOST Finale & Vocapeople

LOST: Wow! What a finale! Though each episode always raises more questions than it provides answers, the show last night did not disappoint! As per usual, some questions were answered, and the picture becomes a bit clearer, whereas the haze thickens in other areas. The last few minutes of the show were quite intense, and sad, (I'm a Juliet fan), and left me panting for more. Which, in my opinion, is exactly what a finale is supposed to do. Hooray for drama, boo-hiss on those anticlimactic ones that make me wish I had just gone to bed early. I hope to go back and watch some of the shows on the internet during the summer hiatus. Sad to think that the next season will be the last one, but I am looking forward to seeing how in the world they're going to pull it all together and get the loose ends tied.

Here's another Wow for you. Click on the arrow on the left underneath the box to initiate an amazing video. This is called Vocapeople. They are a group of performers who sing a capella, and use their voices to make the music. Totally amazing! Enjoy!

H H Gregg Shopping Experience

In the past I have written letters, commenteries in newspapers, and made phone calls to businesses who have poor customer service. I may even have written about them on my blog.. I dunno. When we research an item prior to purchase and read reviews, many times the negative reviews outweigh the positive ones. We watch the news, and usually what we see are reports of the bad things. Occasionally the news programs will try to integrate some good news into their broadcasts, usually at the end of the program. Perhaps not to leave such a bitter taste, or such negative thoughts in our mind at the close of their program. Why is it that we focus so on the negative? My daughter will gladly tell you that I am forever nit-picking at her over the things she does *wrong*, and not so much encouraging and appreciating her for the things she does right. The right things she does far outnumber the *wrong*. So why is it that I/we focus on the wrong, or the bad?? Why do we do that? Do the emotions evoked by a bad experience outweigh the good feelings when something goes right? Or do we just have such expectations that things always go right that we fail to appreciate it when they actually do?

In an effort to focus more on the positive, I want to tell you about a wonderful shopping experience I had this past weekend. I had the opportunity to do some p.r.n. work for a former client, and decided to use the money to purchase a TV for my new room. As time went on, and the hours piled up, I realized I wouldmake enough to also replace the 18-year-old TV that my Aunt Joyce bought me when Randy and I split up. How exciting! After shopping, researching, grilling my brother and my dad about different models, I decided what I wanted. My neighbor Kim told me about a new HH Gregg that was opening in Snellville, and that I should check it out.

It was a shopping experience like I've never had before. I walked in the door, was greeted by a nice gentleman with a sales paper, then by a young man who offered to help. I jokingly asked him if he was my personal shopping assistent. To my surprise he said "yes, ma'am, that's exactly what I am". His name was Maurice, and he walked with me through the entire television section, explaining differences in models, LCD vs plasma, and all the various wires, cables, boxes, etc., that are required to make the gizmos work. After deciding on the two sets I wanted, he showed me which of those additional items I needed, and gathered everything up for me. I could see the dollar signs rolling behind my eyeballs, and was starting to feel a little faint at this point, thinking that I might need an oxygen mask. I asked him to call his manager and work up a proposal for me, because, after all, I was hoping to buy TWO tv sets, and I had driven all that way just to visit his store. So Maurice got his department manager, they crunched some numbers, and after discounting each item, the bottom line was that all the "stuff" (that was priced at around $300.00), was virtually no cost to me. How terrific is that!! It was a costly purchase, no doubt, but the fact that I saved $300.00, paid cash for it (Dave Ramsey would be so proud of me- not that I would have charged it anyway, but still, cash feels good!), and had the opportunity to work extra to earn the money... that was pretty groovy in my book!

Of course it is a new store, with the grand opening sale going on and all, but while I was waiting for them to load my purchases, I did speak with the store manager about my experience. I told him that Maurice was very helpful to me, and that I enjoyed having my own personal assistant, as opposed to chasing down someone to help me, like one must do in another Geek store. He told me that the "personal shopping assistant" is the way they do business, and not just a grand-opening gimick. I suppose some manly-man-types might not like