Statistically, we're far more likely to be killed in a car accident than we are a plane crash.  Yet, many of us tremble in fear at the thought of flying.  Most of us drive daily, and yet when we turn the key in the ignition, we're not thinking that "today I may be killed while driving my car."  It would be difficult to complete the task at hand if we worried or obsessed over our safety.  We simply drive, and do what comes natural, and most of the time, we return home at the end of the day, and go through the same routine tomorrow and the next day.

I would imagine that a soldier serving in a hot zone is a little more cognizant of his (or her) mortality when he goes about the tasks of his day.  I would think that a heavy measure of dread and trepidation accompanies a soldier as he gears up for another day of battle.  But I'm sure in the back of his mind, he never really thinks that today will be the day that he will die.  To obsess over it would not only put himself in danger, but his comrades as well.  So, like a driver behind the wheel, the soldier does what he has been trained to do, and instinct kicks in.  

I've never really thought about the actual number of soldiers who have died in battle.  I've seen photos of Arlington, and American cemetaries on foriegn lands, and it always overwhelms me. White crosses as far as the eye can see. Each cross representing a life cut short.  Ive heard it quoted that the numbers of the known (American) dead from the wars - around 1.3 million, since the Revolutionary War.  Many of us know families who have experienced first-hand the loss of someone they love on a battlefield far, far away.  We've watched videos of funeral processions through towns where people lined the streets to pay their respects.  We've wept over people we've never met who were willing to lay down their lives... men and women who "gave the last full measure of devotion", to ensure our liberty and freedom.

There are those who vehemently oppose military action/wars.  There will always be controversy over some of the engagements in which we've been involved.  Memorial Day, in my opinion, is not the time for arguing over the Democratic or Republican, liberal or conservative opinion of whether or not we should be there in the first place.  It is about honoring the men and women who have given all. Instead of staying home and playing with their children, tending to their families, working in a job making far more than soldier's wages, they died far away from the ones they love, often in the arms of their fellow soldiers.

I am unaware of any of my own family members who have perished while serving our country, but many of the men in my family have served, including my father, my brother, and all of my uncles.  Army, Navy and Air Force.  I am so thankful for their service, and thankful they returned home safely to us.  

There's a family heirloom that sits in my living room.  It's a hand-crafted blanket chest that's in the neighborhood of 350 years old.  Inside this chest is a little "secret compartment".  When my grandmother inherited it, there were some items inside the compartment.  Among the items were some very brittle, faded letters penned by one of my ancestors from the battlefield.  In the Civil War.  He wrote home to his mother about "hiding in the ditch from the damn Yankees", about drinking bootleg whiskey that someone had obtained.  Of his love for his family. Amazing letters.  The story goes that the soldier's mother received word that he had been injured in battle.  Though she was weak from having given birth a few weeks earlier and nearly hemorrhaging to death, she insisted that she be taken to the hospital to see her son.  She and the baby were packed in the back of a wagon, and they traveled many miles so that she could be with her son.  After days of travel, they finally reached the hospital, where she learned that her son, her brave young son, had died shortly before her arrival.  He gave the last full measure of his devotion.  North or South?  Doesn't matter.  He was an American, and gave his life for a cause in which he believed.  I'd venture to say, that at some point in history, every family has been impacted by this supreme sacrifice.

Our nation today is facing challenges like never before.  Over the years our government has become the epitome of Big Brother, and many of the actions of our leaders do little to honor the intentions of the men and women who got off the boats and founded our country those many years ago.  It makes me incredibly sad to see the state of our nation, especially knowing the high price that has been paid.  

Freedom is not free.  

All gave some.  Some gave all.  

I hope there is a special place in heaven for the men and women who gave all.  

May there always be a special place in our hearts for them, and may we never forget. 

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.  ~Abraham Lincoln


~Originally posted Memorial Day 2010

Flowers For Mom

From the May/June edition of Sweet Tea

A recent trip down Memory Lane (my article from April's online edition of Sweet Tea) took me through the halls of Statham Elementary, and into the classroom of my beloved first and second grade teacher, Miss Lance, and the sweet memory of her fabulous bulletin boards.  One of my favorites had for its caption “April Showers Bring May Flowers”.  I’ve always loved flowers.  From a very young age, I learned to spot the bright yellow splashes of early spring daffodils, and they quickly became my favorite. My daddy called them Jonquils.  There was an old homestead across the street from my grandpappy’s house, where the daffodils had multiplied over the years until a blanket of yellow sweetness covered the ground.  The house had crumbled over the passage of time, and the only thing remaining on the property was a small bell tower… and the sea of daffodils.  We always walked over and picked a huge bunch to take home for our dinner table.  One year, my daddy decided it would be okay to dig up a few clumps to take home.  “Thin them out”, as it were.  He transplanted a few of the bulbs onto the bank of the little gully at home, and in a few years we had our own little patch of daffodils.  Each spring my brother and I would pick a handful of flowers, and proudly present them to our mom.  And as all good moms throughout history have done, she would give us hugs and tell us they were the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen (even though we had just given her a handful a day or so before), and would make a big deal out of putting them in a Mason jar, where they would live a few days before wilting.  Then we’d do it all over again. Those daffodils grew on the gully bank for many years.  I was sad to notice this year that they are gone.  How long ago did they stop blooming?  Was I just too busy to notice?  What joy they brought to our lives with their pretty yellow faces smiling in the sun, and oh the fragrance!!  I remember burying my nose deep inside the cup and smelling the sweetness.  I always thought they smelled good enough to eat!  With the mild winter and early spring this year, it seems that our “May flowers” are spent already, and we are left to enjoy the early-blooming azaleas and roses.

Though I’m not blessed with a particularly green thumb, plants and flowers were a large part of my life when I was growing up on Broad Street.  My parents and grandparents owned D & W Greenhouses.  You may remember the metal signs on each end of Mulberry that read Plants And Flowers For Sale.  The greenhouses (still on my parents’ property) sat between their two houses, and it was a family business in every sense of the word.  The first greenhouse, now the smallest of workshops on the property, was originally made from recycled windows.  Glass windows.  It was the coolest little place to be.  Except once during a hailstorm.  That was a mess!  The house was ruined, as well as many of the tender plants growing inside.  Undaunted, my dad rebuilt the house, and this became the seed and potting house, where the seeds were planted and nurtured, and later transplanted into individual cups made of peat moss.  My brother and I spent countless hours watching our parents carefully extract the seedlings for transplant.  We would rummage through the discarded ones deemed too spindly, and would pack them into Dixie cups using sand from our sand pile.  The “good dirt” was far too valuable for us to waste, but we were determined to have our own Plants And Flowers For Sale.  Needless to say, by day’s end, our little spindly seedlings were wilted in the sand, and once again thrown into the compost pile.

When it was time to plant the garden, neighbors from all over town, and some from out of town, would come to our greenhouses for their plants. And mostly they came at dinner time.  During the spring months we rarely were able to sit down for dinner without a customer pulling into the drive. But after all… we had the best-looking plants around!  Tomatoes and peppers of many varieties were probably our best sellers, and the ones I remember most.  Big Boys and Better Boys were favorites.  Seems like I remember the peppers and the “regular” tomatoes selling for a nickel apiece, while the Big Boys might have been a dime. 

Even as a kid, I learned that beautiful plants and flowers require a lot of work.  I remember every year my parents and grandparents would make the trek to South Carolina to Parks Seed Company, after poring over catalogues all winter. After working all day, they would stay up late into the night planting the seeds. Such anticipation!  Though the houses were heated, my folks dreaded a cold snap after planting, because keeping the poorly-insulated houses warm enough to keep the plants safe was expensive.  Then there was the year of the hailstorm.  And the watering.  My goodness.  Who knew that you had to water those silly plants so often?  At times, I was called upon to water the plants.  I loved the smell of the greenhouse, with its sawdust floors, and liked to twirl and swirl the water hose/sprinkler in fancy patterns in the air, then listen for the pattering sound when it landed on the leaves, so it wasn’t such a bad gig. I wasn’t fooling the grownups, though.  After just a few minutes, I’d come back into the house, then be marched right back outside to finish the job.  I never did have quite the patience required to slowly water the growing plants, lingering over each one long enough to saturate the soil.  

We had flowering plants as well.  This is probably mostly attributable to Mama Nay, who loved her flowers!   I don’t remember what all varieties we had, but I do remember the bold, red geraniums, the pink and white begonias, and the many different kinds of coleus.  These were available for purchase as individual plants, or in hanging baskets.  The Saturday before Mother’s Day was always a busy day for us.  Dads would bring their kids, who faithfully counted out their dimes and quarters, to purchase a beautiful basket for Mom, or perhaps a flat of flowers for her to plant in her garden. Even all these years later, I still enjoy giving my mom a hanging basket for Mother’s Day.  It just kinda seems like the thing to do, ya know?

Nowadays the small greenhouse is used for storage, and in the larger one, you’ll find my dad outside puttering around with the car that he built, or fixing things, building something, or just keeping busy.  There’s a lot of history in those buildings, and a lot of happy memories. These days, he has a small potting shed out behind the smaller greenhouse, where he starts the seedlings for his own personal use.

Every year when Mother’s Day rolls around, I remember those beautiful hanging baskets, and think of my precious grandmother lovingly tending the flowers.  I’m so thankful to still have my mom, and so thankful to BE a mom (and a Greemaw).  If you’re still fortunate enough to have your mom, remember this: While Mother’s Day is a great day to buy her flowers, you don’t have to wait for a special occasion.  She’d love to hear from you today.  I know this to be true, because my day is not complete without calling my mom, and without talking to my daughter.  So what are you waiting for?  Call your mama today!

Wednesday!

Wednesday.  Hump Day.  I've never really liked the sound of that, but it is what it is.  And now Wednesday is "over-the-hump day" for me instead of Tuesday.  Normally, tomorrow (Thursday) would be my Friday, but since I've changed my work schedule to M-F instead of S-Th, I now share the same hump day with most everyone else. In my line of work, it's nearly impossible to get a M-F gig, so I'm especially grateful for an accommodating manager and director.  It was pretty much just a matter of exchanging the agency coverage hours from Friday to Sunday, but several things had to fall into place for that to happen.  An MT's work is never done; we provide 24/7 coverage... including weekends and holidays.  Illness and accidents don't keep M-F hours, and hospitals never close.  Therefore somebody's gotta keep the work flowing.  

Thankfully, everything worked out to facilitate the change, and here it is... the first week of my new schedule.  I was off this past Sunday, and enjoyed a great day with my husband.  Even sweeter, it was our one-year anniversary!  

No doubt, it will take a little adjustment to get accustomed to the change.  Working Sundays wasn't such a big deal before I got myself a boyfriend, and then a husband.  But my crazy Sunday hours, followed by even crazier Monday hours, really did make it difficult to spend enough time together. Lots of times on Saturdays he is tied up with projects, and it seemed like we were just two ships passing in the night.  

The only GOOD thing about working on Sundays was being off on Fridays.  Oh yeah, I really liked that!  I was able to take care of business matters and appointments, have a little "me" time, and spend time with the grandbabies.  I'll miss that, no doubt.  But... it is super exciting to know that if I want to go out of town for the weekend, I can.  If I want to go to the family cookout, I can.  Or, if I just want to take a nap and be lazy... I can.  And I'll be on the same work schedule as Steve, which is the most important reason of all!!

I think I'm gonna like Wednesdays.  But not as much as I'm gonna love Sundays!!!

Tebowing

While running errands this morning, I was listening to the Martha Zoller show on the radio.  The segment I heard was regarding Tim Tebow, and his open display of faith on the football field.

Let me say at the outset.  I'm not a huge sports fan.  I didn't watch the game.  The only time I've seen "The Tebow" is when they show replays, or as the fad seems to be nowadays, people mimicking the gesture to poke fun at him.  I could Google it of course, but I'm not even 100% sure of the team he plays for (Denver maybe?), and I believe maybe his team lost yesterday?  (Okay, please don't throw rotten tomatoes at me.  I can't help it.)  I watch the Dawgs, and I'll watch the Braves once they get to the playoffs.  Same with the Falcons.  If they're in the last playoff or the Superbowl, I'll watch.  If I'm not working.  Working on Sunday afternoon/nights and Monday nights makes it a little difficult to be a fan anyway, so I'm glad I'm not.  It would be awfully hard to be chained to a desk while the game was on.

Tim Tebow has been taking flack for publicly acknowledging his faith ever since ... well, I don't know... I guess as long as he has been playing maybe?  I know the first thing I ever heard about him was not what a great player (quarterback??) he is, but about his gesture after a good play.  I heard and read about folks making fun of him for "crying".  For kneeling at the goal line.  For verbally proclaiming his faith.

On the radio this morning there was discussion that some people are saying that he is "divinely" inspired to make the right plays.  Seriously?  There is talk of outrage among nonbelievers who are hoping to have the NFL declared as a "no religion" zone.  Oh really?  Well, good luck trying to take the religion out of Tim Tebow.  Well, perhaps you could take the "religion" out of him, but I doubt you could take (his love of) God out of him, or any any way, shape or form prohibit him from having a relationship with Him.

Does he pray before a game?  I'm quite certain that he does. (Probably all during it, too!) As I said, I only know what little I've seen/read about the guy. I haven't done any book reports on him or anything.  I'm just making comments as a casual observer. And I've certainly not been privy to his personal prayers to The Almighty.  From the little bit I know about him, though, if he is a true man of integrity and faith, I seriously doubt that his prayers are for lots of points, perfectly executed plays, and to bring glory to himself so everyone will think he is so great.  I kind of think maybe (hopefully) his prayers are for the ability to do his best, safety for all the players, and that GOD would be glorified.  Of course I can be wrong.  But I'd bet his prayer is closer to the second example.  After all, isn't that how we should model our own prayers when beseeching God's help for successful lives?  The ability to do our best, safety for ourselves and those around us? and that He would be glorified ... whether we succeed.. or NOT?

This whole thing bothers me on several levels:  Will people begin to see Tebow as another Joel Osteen?  Do it "right" and you will be blessed? (No haters, please... JO is a very dynamic speaker and motivator, IMO, but I don't care for his version of the (un)Gospel.  That's just me.)  Will people begin to turn to God because He "blesses" TT so much?  So what happens when his career starts to slide, when he's off his game, when (hopefully never) he is injured, when something horrible happens in his personal life?  Will those people then blame God?  Will God get the bad rap?  Do you think that when the stadium lights go down, when the cameras are gone, and/or he's too old for the sport, do you think he will stop "Tebowing"?

Do you really, honestly think God needs Tim Tebow in order to be the Awesome God that He Is?

For Tebow fans, is it the "hip" or "in" thing to do... pray to God because T does it?

I'm not discounting the impact on people.  Not a tall.  I'm quite sure there are people everywhere who are deeply affected by his faith and his public display of it.  The maneuver is a great testimony.

So what's all the outrage about?  Come on, folks.  It's not rocket science.  He's a young man who has a relationship with God, and who's not afraid to acknowledge it.  Does that mean that every believer has to behave that way?  Of course not.  Is it in good taste?  That's a matter of opinion.  As a believer, I personally enjoy seeing someone giving God credit for their blessings and talents, instead of pounding their chests and proclaiming "Look at ME!  See what I can do!"  Again, that's just me.

Why does it bother so many people?  Is it a threat?

On the radio show they said that Fran Tarkenton has commented on this whole "religion in sports" thing.  He said that religion in sports is nothing new.  He was (is?) a man of faith, and said at the time he played football, he had to get permission from the elders of his church to play on Sunday. There have always been believers in sports.  Ever heard of the FCA?  (Even I know what that is! ha!)

And then there's that 3:16 commercial.  I didn't see the game, but the commercial video has been posted all over Facebook and the internet, so I've seen it.  What's the problem with it?  I honestly just don't get why in the world people want to get so upset about it.  People who don't drink beer and have horror stories regarding alcoholism don't get up and scream about beer commercials during football games. Celibate men don't protest against Victoria's Secret commercials (now that one made me laugh).  You see where I'm going with this, right?  So what... if there are atheist or agnostic people watching TV and they don't like the 3:16 commercial.. SO WHAT!  Get over it!  If you're threatened by such a commercial, then perhaps you're not as strong in your non-belief as you want to think you are.  Put your atheist (or whatever else concept that conflicts with my beliefs) commercials on TV.  Doesn't bother me a bit.  Whoever has the money to buy ad space on the network ... gets the air time. I'm impressed that FOTF was able to come up with the money.

Are these same anti-religious people creating a fuss about all the Mormon commercials on TV?  (Were there any of those played during the game?) I've always thought LDS church had the best commercials.  As a teenager, I once wrote off for a free poster for my room  that was distributed by them.  I don't remember exactly what it was, but something very peaceful and beautiful.  And now they have this campaign* on TV showing average, every-day people who live with the same struggles and triumphs as everyone else.  And at the end, they say... ".... and I'm a Mormon."  Great marketing for the LDS, IMO.  (*And while they deny any correlation, my cynical mind screams that it is politically generated and/or sponsored by a certain campaign).

Do those Mormon commercials offend me?  Heck no.  Nothing they can say is going to make me become a Mormon.  I'm not dissin' them, I just don't want to be one.  I believe differently, and I'm not gonna change, no matter how Every-Day-Average the people in their commercials are.  Could I vote for one for president? Absolutely, I could. I'll vote for the best candidate, regardless of his religion, (or lack thereof), if he is the best candidate (I hope I don't have to vote for THIS one, but that's another blog post altogether!)  There are some, though, who wouldn't consider voting for one of those "weird Mormons", so the Every-Day-Average American might find him/herself with a little softer view on that, after the commercials.  [As an aside... did you know that it is unconstitutional to "test" a candidate for the presidency based on religion?  Yep, it sure is.]

Oh, sorry... I drifted way off topic here.  I'll have plenty of time for those posts. It's shaping up to be a long election season...

Okay... back to religion on TV.  Here's another angle to consider.  You can please all of the people some of the time, some of the people all of the time, but you can't please all of the people all of the time.  If anti-religious people rally against religious stuff, the Christians get mad.  If the anti-gay people raise a fuss about shows depicting openly-gay (or even implied) relationships, the gay people get mad.  If the atheist or whatever you call the nature-worshiping folks want to have something on TV the Christians get mad.  The Christians get mad about a lot of stuff... lol...

There's this thing called the 1st amendment.  (Help me here, Ron Paul...)  Evidently anybody can say anything they want to say... but oh wait... Don Imus can't call a black girl "nappy headed", but Westboro Church can stand outside a fallen soldier's funeral and scream "Fag"??  (yikes, another subject for another day)

There's also this thing called freedom of choice.  If you don't like something, do your best to remove yourself from it.  If you absolutely cannot survive watching Tim Tebow doing his thing, then take a break from the TV.   Close your eyes, or go to the fridge for a snack.  Honestly.  I know people who absolutely are disgusted at some of the sitcoms that depict the gay lifestyle.  Okay, so they are offended by it.  Do they watch it?  Ummm, probably not.  A Miss America (another show/organization which disgusts many) contestant was asked Saturday night about the "16 And Pregnant" and "Teen Mom" shows on MTV.  I've seen some of these shows and they are pretty pathetic.  I don't like them and for the most part don't agree with their message.  I'm not going to get on my soapbox and scream about how they are offensive and should be taken off TV.  I just don't watch.

One thing I would like to say, as a word of caution to my fellow believers.  I think we need to be very careful to understand that while we want to see the right preserved for anyone, on any show, to acknowledge their faith... there are others who believe differently than we do about other things.  These folks deserve the same consideration... they want to see *their* beliefs and values respected and preserved the same as we do.  We can't criticize or judge them for standing up for what they want... without expecting them to criticize and judge us.

Bottom line - Tebow's relationship with God is a personal thing.  His acknowledgement is a personal thing.  Perhaps it is encouraging to some who have difficulty showing their faith in public.  Maybe it will be a good commercial for God, like the ones we're seeing for the Mormons.  Most assuredly it will turn some folks off.  But it has nothing to do with football.  I'll betcha when he gets a good parking place at the mall, he whispers "Thanks, God!"  (I do, do you? lol) or maybe he hops out of his car and hollers it, I don't know.  In a world where we worship athletes and rock stars, I find it very refreshing that someone (with a lot at stake) is willing to acknowledge that his talents are God-given, and not self-made.

But that's just me.

This post probably doesn't make much sense, and doesn't tie itself up very well at the end.  It's just a bunch of rambling thoughts on a Monday morning.  Now it's time to get to work.

The Magic Diet

[For those of you who aren't on Facebook (all two of you), or who somehow missed the new Sweet Tea, here's my article for the January issue.]  

The Magic Diet

Admit it.  We all want it.  The Magic Diet that will melt away the pounds like hot butter, and buff the muscles to a six pack.  What’s that?  Butter?  Six pack?  See how quickly I get sidetracked when thinking about The Magic Diet?  Just that one sentence alone was enough to make me gain 3 pounds. Believe me.  If there were a Magic Diet out there I’d have found it by now.

Growing up, I didn’t have to worry about weight.  My mama was a tiny little thing, and I was just barely over 100 lb soaking wet all through my teenage years.  Everyone used to tell me “You’ll never have to worry about your weight.”  (Pssst.  Don’t ever tell that to anyone.  Some people are silly enough to believe it.)

I didn’t experience the “freshman 15”.  Nope, that was kid stuff.  Instead, I experienced the “bridal bloatfest”.  When I married at 21, I was horrified that it took a size 9 wedding gown to hold my bloated body.  What had happened to my size 5 and 7 jeans?  I guess being so blissfully in love was a calorie magnet, and I had ballooned up to 114 lbs.  If gaining weight was the sign of bliss, by the time I gave birth 5 ½ years later, you’d have thought I was the owner of Disneyland (The Happiest Place On Earth).

    

Some people take up a new craft or hobby.  Some people take dance lessons or learn a new language.  Some people search for the answers to the mysteries of the universe.  I began The Quest for The Magic Diet.  The one that would allow me to swallow a pill, or meditate, or listen to subliminal messages to give me the desire and the willpower to fit back into those jeans.  Forget the 5s and 7s, I would have been ecstatic to see ANY size in the single digits!

 

My library expanded.  I purchased every diet book on the market.  I read them all.  Some of them I tried, some of them I decided were either too dangerous, or the food choices left me gagging.  There was the grapefruit and boiled egg diet.  The Lemonade Diet. The Cabbage Soup Diet. The Richard Simmons Method.  Medibolic.  Scarsdale.  The Banana Diet.  The Ice Cream diet.  The Zone.  The Mayo Clinic.  The Eat Like A Tree diet. The Full Plate Diet.  The Weigh Down Diet.  And that’s only a few of them. Needless to say, I’ll never have to buy another door stop again.

 

Back in the olden days of VHS cassettes, I bought enough exercise videos to rival the Great Wall of China.  And like The Great Wall, they just sat there, not doing a darn thing to take the weight off. Today I have no less than 10 “workout” DVDs.  I can Walk Away The Pounds, Dance Away The Pounds, and Hypnotize Away The Pounds.  They just sit there too.  Collecting dust.  Hmph.  And they were guaranteed to work!  Wonder if I can get my money back?

My repertoire of exercise equipment isn’t too shabby either.  I have stretchy things, and springy things, and special tone-up sneakers.  I have a pedometer, an MP3 player and some kick-butt ear buds.  I have my very own personal treadmill. Inside my house. Plugged in. And up until a few months ago I had a membership at the Wellness Center. Then I figured for that monthly payment, I could buy myself a lot of groceries and fast food.  You know that didn’t end well.

And now, a bride again at age 53, the “bliss” seems to come at me even faster.  I’m at the happiest place I’ve ever been in my life. Healthy, awesome family, beautiful grandchildren, and the most wonderful husband. Bliss, I tell you!!  I guess that explains it then: I bump into things I didn’t used to bump into. Sometimes when I walk through the room, things just seem to topple over all by themselves.  And then I realize it was my butt that toppled it over. 

Something’s gotta give.  And it ain’t gonna be my waistband.

So here we find ourselves in a brand new year, with a clean plate … err… clean slate, and once again embrace the resolve to start all over.  To get it right this time.  And we will do it.  Because after all my extensive research, I have learned that there really IS a Magic Diet.  Four Little Words.  Eat Less, Move More. Find your magic and make it work.  You’re not gettin’ any younger, and unless you already found your magic, you’re probably not gettin’ any skinnier either.  Eat Less, Move More.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make room in the closet for all those clothes that are hanging on the bars of my treadmill.  I’m ready to get my Magic on. I’ve got some movin’ to do! 

Barcodes = The Antichrist

I remember when the bar-code system began to be used in the common marketplace.  Some Christians immediately declared that bar-codes and the use thereof represented the Antichrist.  Then the whole Proctor & Gamble fiasco ensued, and folks were convinced the company was run by satanists.  (Thankfully they survived the "scandal" and lived to print more coupons...)

I don't know if the Antichrist will need to depend on such technology as bar-codes or not.  I could see how it could work, and may indeed play a part.  I don't know.  I'm actually more afraid of a Big Brother Conspiracy using bar-codes than I am of selling my soul to the devil for a Big Mac.  Maybe Big Brother will end up being the Antichrist, I don't know.  (That being said, you'll never find bar-codes tattooed to my forehead or my right hand.)

However, this post is not about the battle of unseen powers.  It's about the mind-blowing, game-changing use of ... bar-code scanners!!!  I kind of wasn't going to go "Public" with my decision to join Weight Watchers (WW) just yet.  Well, there.  I just went "Public" with it.  Yep, that's right.  I re-joined (for the umpteenth) time on December 29th.  Ever the cost-conscious consumer, I read that some prices would be going up after Jan 1, and I also wanted to avoid the annual New-Year-Resolution crowd that inevitably shows up the first week of the year, I jumped back on the bandwagon before the new year started.  After a few days of reviewing the program changes, reorienting myself with the E-Tools system, and planning some menus, I started the New Eating Year on Monday, the 2nd of January.  My weigh-in was scheduled for Thursday the 5th, and since I only had a few days of being On Program (OP), I wasn't expecting a significant loss.  Nonetheless, I was very pleased with how those four days had gone.  We went to Applebee's on Wed night prior to my Thurs weigh-in, and I ordered one of the WW dinners from the menu.  I even shaved off a couple of Points by substituting the black-bean-and-corn-salsa with steamed broccoli.  It was very yummy and quite satisfying to the palate.  Best of all, I only ate half, and brought the other half home to have for lunch the next day.  So I was prepared to share my non-scale victory (NSV), figuring I wouldn't be celebrating so very much at the scales.  WRONG!  I couldn't believe it when the receptionist told me I was 3.2 lbs ... DOWN!  YAY!!!  The news provided even more motivation and determination, and I was elated, to say the least!!  I called everybody I knew.  Well, I called DJ, Steve, and my mamma, and I texted Whitney.  Not quite everybody, but at least those closest to me.

At the close of the meeting, the lecturer asked if anyone had tried the bar-code scanner for Smartphones.  I didn't know such a thing existed, but I thought I'd give it a try.  Friday afternoon I had a few minutes of down time, so I went to the App Store and downloaded the scanner.  I figured it wouldn't be worth a flip, but Mary found an empty Diet Coke container... one of the squatty little plastic ones... in the backseat, so we decided to scan it.  Well.  Not only did it pull up the points value (0, of course), it pulled up the nutritional information used to calculate the points (fat, carbs, fiber, and protein grams), and a picture of the squatty little Diet Coke.  Seriously cool.  So, off to the grocery store I go with my WW-friendly shopping list.  I ended up buying quite a bit more items than I otherwise would have, because... I could scan each item and it would tell me how many points per serving the item would "cost" me!!  Wow.  One of the things I always hated about WW before was "journaling".  Or writing down everything I ate.  (They call it "tracking" nowadays.)  I also hated looking up in the little booklet to find the points value of everything I ate.

Those days are gone!  With today's technology, I can keep track of all my points with the click of a mouse, and I can scan the points value of anything with a bar-code.  Granted, there are some obscure items not in the scanner's database, but if the item is not in the database, it gives the option to calculate the points using the nutritional information on the product label.  How cool is that!  And.. it keeps a list of everything you scan, so no duplicate scanning!

Another tool that I am loving on the WW mobile app is the Restaurant tab.  I haven't looked at the entire listing of restaurants (but I've already found my favorites!!!), and I can look at all their menu items to check the points value.  There's also a row of tabs at the top (ex. 2-4, 5-7, 8-10  etc.) so that if I only have 10 points left for the day, I can click on the 8-10 tab and see all the food on the menu with 8-10 points without having to scroll through the entire menu.  Brilliant!!

I have been overweight for more years than I have not.  The road has been long and complicated.  I'm so very thankful for yet another chance to start over, and get it right this time.  I've tried everything... but it always seems to come back to WW.  I've probably lost several hundred pounds on the program over the past 30 years or so.  It's what the doctors recommend.  It's on TV all the time, and the internet ads too.  Everywhere I have turned for the past few weeks, WW has just kinda been "in my face".  For me it's confirmation.  Jennifer Hudson has been singing to me about believing and I've tapped into the energy, and I Believe.  I Believe that with the techno tools available to me, that my old excuses won't work any more.  I'm excited about the tools, and how they have already rocked my world.

So, here it is.  My name is Cathy, and I'm a WW member.  And I'm loving it.

Oh, and about that Antichrist thing... I ain't askeerd of him.  My FATHER can beat up his father any day.

Out With The Old

In with the new.  Except to document the progress of contractions, labor, and the birth of a baby, the second hand on the clock is rarely watched so closely as New Year's Eve.  Whether you're out with friends, or snuggled comfortably at home with the ones you love, the tick, tick, tick of the countdown symbolizes the anticipation of the new year to come.  For as long as I can remember, the stroke of midnight on that last day in December has always been accompanied by a lump in my throat, and oftentimes, a misty feeling in my eyes.  I've never really figured out why.  From the times I remember as a kid at home with my parents and brother, to celebrating in my own home with my own family, to partying with friends, to spending some of them alone, a few babysitting my grandchildren, and now entering 2011 with my "new" husband, there's just something emotional about it.

I love this picture, and brazenly swiped it from someone else's blog.  It makes me think though, about the waves on the beach.  When the waves crash over your sandcastle, the structure itself rarely survives, but often there is a lump in the sand that stands bravely, as a testament to what you so painstakingly created.  We often say that a new year is a clean slate, a chance to start over.  And it is... but we also carry forth lumps in the sand left over from yesterday's experiences.  Hopefully many of them are good, but life is tough, and the mistakes and the hurt that we felt in 2011 will go with us into 2012.   We can hope and trust that the waves of time will continue to smooth away the pain, and the sun will shine upon the sand again.

2011 will go down for me as a very good year!  A busy year, with much to be grateful for.  I married the sweetest man, and bask unashamedly in his love.  In doing so, my family increased overnight, and I welcomed his children and grandchildren, mom and siblings, as he has welcomed mine.  Our Christmas tree this year was a sign of the increase in our blessings-- not because we spent lots of money, but simply because we have so many with whom to share the holiday.

After calling The 409 home for five years, I moved into Steve's home when we married in April.  A huge change for sure!  I had been single for 19 years, and had no plans whatsoever to marry again.  A few disappointing and painful relationships over the years had left me with the realization that I was much better off just enjoying my daughter and then delving wholeheartedly into the world of Greemaw-ism.  No room for dating relationships and/or the complications that inevitably followed.  And I made no bones about the fact that I'd never marry again.  Obviously Stevie Jay caused me to re-evaluate those resolutions, and I'm so thankful that I gave us a chance.  Oh, I fought it tooth and nail in the beginning, but with the counsel of a few wise friends, and The Great Epiphany one day in church, I stopped fighting against myself.  And just let it happen.  And I'm so thankful!!

The summer of 2011 included our Honeymoon Trip to the beach in June.  Our original wedding date was set for June 17th, but a series of events (God-ordained!) found us married April 22nd, but we kept our original plans for the honeymoon.  It was a whirlwind week of fun and sun, staying busy, and being lazy.  By far my most favorite trip to the beach to date!  We're hoping to make lots more memories at Our House At The Beach.  (Aunt Joyce and Uncle Gene's townhouse.)

2011 also brought the reunion of our graduating class - the renewal of old friendships, as well as the blossoming of new.  Serving on the planning committee, I got to spend some time with several folks that I didn't really know that well in high school, but enjoyed getting to know as we planned.  Funny how renewing acquaintances brings you back to your roots.  And instilled a longing in my heart to get together more often with my Statham friends, with whom I shared homegrown memories of life in our small town, and attending the same school together "just us" through the 8th grade.  It was sad to see how many classmates have passed since we graduated in 1976, and far too often now we read on Facebook where someone has lost a dear parent, or a spouse.  Life really is short.

And the hours just whiz by the older I get.  I swear, when I was a kid, it took 12 1/2 years for Christmas to come.  Now it seems like just a few weeks.  Yesterday Steve and I un-decorated the house and put away all the trappings of the holiday.  In the blink of an eye, it will be time to bring them out again.  My youngest grandchild will start Pre-K this fall.  It was only yesterday I was smooching on those sweet little newborn cheeks.  Leyliebug is such a grown-up little lady, and watching her takes me back to the days when her mommy was a little girl.  She'll be in first grade this next school year.

I find myself wishing constantly for 48-hour days (but leave the 8-hour work day intact, please!)  I don't have time to blog any more.  I did manage to write about half a chapter in my book in 2011, but I long for more time to finish the research and complete the book.  Scrapbooking?  Haven't touched it in ages.  I need to finish Corey's First Year scrapbook so I can get busy with mine and Steve's wedding scrapbook.  Luckily, I never finished Whitney's Wedding Book (she started having babies before I got that one finished!), so I have lots of wedding scrapbook supplies on hand!

Good things happened at The 409, as well.  Whitney and Dustin gained full custody of sweet Mary in June, and she has settled in quite well.  We are so happy that she is with us now.  So thankful to turn an undesirable former situation into one of stability and unconditional love. Dustin went to school, and after passing a rigorous battery of tests, has made a career change and is doing amazing work with a great  company.  Whitney returned to her former job, and has enjoyed being back at work.  Daycare, one of the biggest challenges of working parents, is manageable, and I'm fortunate to be able to spend time with the kids and help out when they're out of school.  Mom and Dad are enjoying good health, and they love spending time with the kids too, and are able to help out when needed.

Steve and Joe stayed busy throughout the summer, and we are grateful to all the people who continue to use Greater South for their construction/remodeling needs.

DJ and David welcomed their first grandchild, Ryan Philip, into the world on November 30th.  Such fun to watch them in this new role.  The sight of a baby in their arms has been long coming, and we are so thankful for this new life.

Michael and Linda continue to work on the farm, and at the annual Hillbilly Hippiefest, chose "Star Valley Farm" as the name of their corner of Eden.  Steve and I were able to attend the event, and it remains one of my favorite memories of 2011.  Their future plans for the farm are amazing, and I can't wait to watch them unfold.

One of the girls I grew up with was unable to make it home for the reunion in October.  She was in town after Christmas and seven of us gals met for dinner.  Boy, did we ever have fun!  Memory Lane for us is Broad Street in Statham, and we traveled up and down the lane all evening.  I'll bet some ears were burning somewhere!!  There's just something so gratifying about revisiting my youth with ones who were such a huge part of it... and knowing that we share the same roots.  We talked and laughed (hysterically at times, when a malfunctioning camera kept shooting crazy shots even without the shutter button being pressed!), and when we parted, we promised to do it again soon.

There's always the sad part of saying goodbye to dear friends as they pass from this life, and we were called upon to do that as well in 2011.  But hope lies eternal, and for those of us who believe, death is not the end.

2012 now lies before me.  A few lumps in the sand brought over from 2011, for sure, but an empty beach as far as my eyes can see.  I hope the decisions I make will be good ones, built firmly on solid ground, far from the reach of the crashing waves. I hope I take time to stop and smell the roses, and love those around me in such a way that they never question my love or devotion.  I hope to spend more time with family, and enjoy lots of grandbaby love and kisses.  I hope I will love myself enough to grab hold and hang on tightly to my resolve to make healthier choices, making 2012 the year that I regain my health. I hope I will devote more time to matters of my faith... because my faith matters so very much.  I hope that I will be an encouragement to the downtrodden, a ray of sunshine to the sad, and a balm to those in pain. I hope that I will mean as much to my friends as they mean to me.  I hope that my relationship with my husband will continue to grow ever stronger and sweeter, and that our home will be full of love, happiness, and the laughter of our grandchildren!

And I hope the same things for you.  Happy New Year!!  May your 2012 be blessed.

Photorealism

The wedding gown.  Perhaps the most important decision a bride will make when planning her wedding.  She searches for the perfect dress for her special day.  When she finds it, nothing else will do.  Fifty years later when she’s celebrating her Golden Anniversary, chances are she can still describe the gown in detail, right down to the last sequin and seed pearl.  Ask the groom what her gown looked like, and he’ll get that deer-in-the-headlight look, swallow hard, and hesitatingly say “….White?” 

An equally important decision the bride must make is choosing a wedding photographer.  The images that capture the day will enable those who missed the event to experience the magic simply by viewing the pictures. 

There is no shortage of wedding photographers these days, and with the technology of digital photography, creativity is limitless.  In the olden days of film, special effects were pretty much limited to double-exposure, depth-of-field trickery, and the use of filters.  While camera technique and photographer talent is still a huge part of it, nowadays the real magic is worked with manipulating the images on the computer.  It’s amazing what can be done.  I have a very special friend who has taken the art of preserving memories to an even higher level.  Dietke is an amazing photographer, with an incredible eye for composition and design.  This, however, is only the tip of the iceberg.   Once the image is captured, she then brings it to life using a technique called Photorealism.  With pencil or charcoal in hand, she transforms the image onto paper, creating a one-of-a-kind work that defies description in its detail and beauty. 

This is a sample of photorealism.

To see a time-lapse video of this portrait from start to finish, visit Dietke’s web page here.  Prepare to be amazed.

Born in Germany, Dietke moved to the USA about eight years ago, after partnering with Chris while organizing an exhibit featuring R.E.M., a band from Athens, Ga.  At their first meeting, she realized she had found her soul mate. After long-distance dating for 2 ½ years, she moved to the states, and they were married nine months later. 

Since meeting Dietke, I have been fascinated with her work, and recently interviewed her about the process.

How old were you when you realized that you had the gift of drawing? I remember being in Kindergarten and elementary school trying hard to develop better drawing techniques. But it wasn't until I was 12 that adults started to really encourage me, and that made a big difference. My sister's boyfriend gave me a book on portrait drawings - that boosted  both my confidence and my skill.

Someone smart once said that creativity needs a solid foundation of knowledge. So when you meet kids that may have talents for something, definitely give them a book, some video links - anything that opens some doors to more knowledge - and see if they take it to the next level. It doesn't even have to be your own kids.

Did you take formal art lessons as a child and young adult?  I did take art classes in school, but pretty much only added extra-curricular classes after I started drawing photorealistically. The book I mentioned helped a lot, though - the rest just fell into place.

What was your major in college? I actually studied arts management - largely because I didn't think I had enough potential to make it as a full time artist.

What intrigued you to draw your first photorealism piece?  Once more, R.E.M. play into it - I had some pictures of them that I wanted to have bigger for my room, so I decided to draw them. It just so happened that the drawings ended up being photorealism. After that, I stuck to the style.

How long did it take to do your first one? Probably about 50 hours

After years of experience, how long would it take to do the same piece now? Maybe 25-30?

When did you create Brooke’s portrait? How long did it take to complete?  I drew Brooke in 2008, and it was one of the first ones where I also took the photo it is based on. You can actually see me reflected in her eyes, precariously balancing in a French window to get that beautiful light. It took about 50 hours as well.

When do you know a drawing is done?   Well, for one, when everything I do seems to make it worse rather than better - that's a good indication. But beyond that, it needs to "grab me' - when a drawing is really done, it kind of feels like a little hit in the stomach when I look at it. If I don't get that feeling, it's usually best to leave it alone for a few days or weeks, and then see what's missing.

How do you keep from smearing the image while you are drawing?   I used to just use a sheet of paper to rest my hand on, but then a friend and I developed a product we named D'Anna Glass (Anna is my middle name) - it is a glass pane that hovers just a slight distance above a drawing and it has wheels so that you can very easily move it left and right. So now I rest my arm on that while I draw, and it not only keeps me from smudging, it also keeps my hand really steady, it is really comfortable, and it protects the drawing while I'm not working on it. If you are interested, you can learn more at www.dannaglass.com

How is the image protected from smearing once it is complete?  Putting the drawing behind glass, ideally with a bit of air between the drawing and the glass, is the most important thing to do. I also spray drawings with about 15 thin layers of fixative, which can be found in art supply stores. With plenty of thin layers it will eventually be smudge-proof. It's just important to check upfront if the fixative works with the specific drawing materials. One time when I was about 14, I spent many hours on a drawing with white chalk, and when I sprayed it, it almost completely disappeared in front of my eyes... Never did that again! :-)

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What an amazing talent!!  What an incredible treasure for any bride. 

Sky Lanterns

As promised in my last post, I'm adding some follow up pictures from our Sky Lantern adventure last weekend at Michael and Linda's farm.  My friends Dietke and Chris have added some great night-time photos of the event, and I wanted to share with you.  If you're unfamiliar with sky lanterns, click the link above to my previous post, which explains what they are, and how they work.  I can't wait to do this again!

Preparing to launch

Almost ready!

Into the night sky, our lanterns gracefully wafted on the breeze. 

I will defer to the words of the photographer himself...

I enjoy this photo a lot because it remains like the evening itself, a wonderful dreamlike moment.

A few more night photos:

The Food Tent

Adding another log to the fire

Good times around the campfire! 

For sure, this day and night will definitely be filed away in my bank of Favorite Memories.  Looking forward to making many more happy memories at Star Valley!!

Hillbilly Hippiefest 2011

What a great weekend!!  Saturday marked the one-year anniversary of my first date with my husband.  Wow… I never would have imagined how my world would change over the following months.  On the day we celebrated our anniversary, we were blessed to meet, for the first time in real life, the delightful woman who started it all.  (You may remember that story.)  I’ve enjoyed getting to know Dietke, and learning about her amazing talents, through Facebook, and was so happy to meet her and her husband, Chris, on Saturday.

Dietke, Steve and I.  We love her!!!

The event that brought us together was none other than the 2^nd Annual Hillbilly Hippiefest, hosted by Michael and Linda, (baby brother and sister-in-law) at their farm in the South Carolina mountains.  Lots of folks brought their tents and camping gear, and settled in for the weekend.  Steve and I were unsure about whether we’d get to go due to work issues, and unfortunately, there’s a nasty kidney stone that’s giving Steve some trouble this week too.  We were so happy that it worked out for us to go.  I had never been to the farm before, though I had seen a few pictures, and couldn’t wait to check it out.

 

For those who don’t know my brother, let me tell you a little about him (but first my dad), and why the farm is so important.  Our dad is one of the most amazing men alive, and honestly, could make it in the wilderness with nothing but a knife and a canteen.  He could build a shack out of twigs, and feed himself with wild berries and roots.  He could catch a fish from the stream with his bare hands and build a fire with two sticks and a rock.  Get the picture?  He’s a very self-sufficient kind of man, and knows a little bit about most things, and an awful lot about a lot of things.  He is absolutely right when he shakes his head at “these kids today”, who wouldn’t survive one week if they had to “make do” for themselves. 

My brother got his DNA.  He can do anything.  If he can’t do it, he’ll Google it and figure out how to do it.  For several years, he and Linda have been looking for a patch of land in the mountains, in the hopes of building a farm and retiring there.  I don’t know the details of how they came across this particular patch of land, but purchase it they did, and are in the process of turning it into a self-sustaining farm.  There are a couple of streams on the property, a nice valley or two (I only saw the front side of the property; there’s another valley on the back side of their mountain.)  They have moved a small cabin onto the property to serve as their living quarters when they go up to work on the farm.  When the farmhouse is completed, the cabin will be the guest quarters.  The really cool thing about their plans, is that the farm will be completely self-sustaining.  Solar panels will provide the electricity, they will grow their own food, and grass-feed their animals.  Another goal is to make it a teaching farm, where they can bring folks in and teach them how to grow their own organic food, and how to can and preserve the food. At home in Atlanta, he makes his own wine, and is planning to grow his own grapes at the farm someday.  He makes his own bread, and will one day grow his own grain and mill it as well. You can read more about it in his own words here.  Check it out.  He is amazing. 

And so we spent the afternoon and evening with Michael, Linda, my nephew Ryan, and LUCY was in the house!  …um… on the farm.  The weather was PERFECT, and the afternoon was clear and crisp.  As the evening wore on, sweaters, sweatshirts, mittens, scarves and blankets were brought out, and we gathered the hay bales closer to the fire.  There are few things finer than a roaring bonfire on a clear, cold night, and the laughter of friends. With the wine tasting over, and the appetizers enjoyed, it was time to turn attention to dinner. Michael had built a smoker, and all afternoon the aroma of ribs, chicken, and pork tempted our taste buds, and finally it was time to load our plates.  Oh, the food!  In addition to the aforementioned meat, there were several varieties of soup, pasta, vegetables, and desert.  After dinner we sat around to let the food settle and watch the fire crackle and pop in the night.  The full moon was teasing us with brightening of the sky just over the ridge of the mountain, ready to spill its light into the valley. Baby Lucy was tucked away inside the cabin, a tired little pumpkin after running around all afternoon breathing the fresh country air. All the doggies were snuggled at the feet of their respective owners, and Scottie, Michael and Linda’s pooch, had found a nice warm spot in my lap underneath the blanket.  The night was filled with sounds of the wood popping and sizzling, friends laughing and talking, and at one point the loud bangs of fireworks.  We enjoyed a very nice display of streams of color streaking in the sky, and my favorite ones, the tiny explosions with the sparkles trickling down like a waterfall.  Big, fat sparklers were passed around and the smiling faces of friends having fun lit up the darkness.

 

My very favorite moment, however, was when we all released sky lanterns, and they floated up, up, and away into the night.  I had never seen this done before.  It was amazing.  Sky lanterns are very fragile miniature hot-air-balloon-like lanterns made up of tissue paper and a small, lightweight ring of wire at the bottom.  There’s a square of some kind of slow-burning, wax combustible material attached to the bottom.  You fluff up the lantern, light the square on fire, and hold the lantern upright and let it fill with air.  The hot air will inflate the tissue-paper lantern, and when it’s full, you simply release it and it floats silently and gracefully up into the air.  They are designed to burn for about 12 minutes, and can go several miles high into the sky.  Linda invited us to make a wish on our lantern, or meditate and perhaps symbolically release something from our lives that binds us and “let it go”, as the lanterns floated upward.  I sent my lantern heavenward with love and hugs for Delores.  There were around 40 people who released the lanterns, and the moment was quiet and somewhat reverent, with whispers of “awesome!”, “cool!” being the only sounds for a minute or so, as we all gazed upward to watch the slow ascent of the lights.  They traveled silently northward, then when they reached the altitude coinciding with the top of the ridge, a breeze changed their direction and they began to float silently toward the east.  Higher and higher they floated, until they looked like stars in the night.  Amazing.  I want to do this again!!

After the lanterns floated out of sight, Michael lit some luminary bags and placed them around the perimeter of the party area.  We left shortly afterward for the drive home, and as we reached the road and looked back down into the valley, we could see the luminaries scattered about the farm, and the shadows of the people gathered once again around the bonfire. 

It was a fabulous day.  I’m so happy for Michael and Linda, to be able to see their dreams come true.  I can’t wait to see how the farm progresses, and look forward to spending lots of quality time there with family and friends in the future.

 

Here are a few photos that I took of the farm.  My friends Dietke and Chris (both professional photographers) took photos of the fireworks and sky lanterns.  I will add those pictures when they are available, so be sure to come back and take a look.

The front acreage from the main road

 Tent Village

The Barn 

Our gracious host and hostess

 View from the front porch of the cabin.