A Single Point of View: The mountains!

A Single Point of View: The mountains!: We went to the mountains over the weekend. My dad was able to get a cabin in North Carolina for the week through his company, and this girl...

The mountains!

We went to the mountains over the weekend.
My dad was able to get a cabin in North Carolina for the week through his company, and this girl takes advantage of every opportunity to go see something different on the cheap. (Can we say free lodging??)
The kids and I spent almost as much time driving as we did actually at the cabin, but it was worth it. They were captive for about 10 hours over two days while we were on the road, which meant they had to listen to me sing! ;)
Okay, I lied. I sang, they blared dubstep in their ears to drown me out. But every now and again I would nudge whoever drew the short straw to be my passenger/navigator to point out something interesting (are those mountains or clouds? They're mountains! No...they're clouds.)

The cabin was beautiful. Two-stories sitting on the top of a small mountain.

 

We tried convincing the kids that the outhouse behind the cabin was the only bathroom.

 

Frankly, I'm glad it was just a joke, or that was about to be one helluva long weekend!
I know the cabin had running well water (which the kids declared delicious), electricity and a woodburning stove, but it was still rustic. It didn't even have wifi!
Because she couldn't be on Facebook (lucky for me it DID have 4G ;) ), I have a sneaky suspicion my daughter stayed up too late reading her new book using a new-to-her booklight after I sent her to bed. Luckily we still had cell service or Christopher might have had an apoplexy. As it was he got to talk to Beth until 11-something.

The only thing I wanted to do Saturday morning was curl up in a rocking chair with a blanket and a steaming mug of coffee, and chit chat with my Dad. And I did it! It lasted all of about 15 minutes, because Daddy needed to go in the house for something, it was only about 36 degrees outside and my coffee got cold very much quick.

Then we went for a walk in the woods. When I was growing up we used to do that all the time. Daddy would take us camping at Clark Hill (when it was still Clark Hill and you could go anywhere you wanted to without paying a day-use fee) and we'd all spend hours walking through the woods and running from snakes. I still love it...in winter....when the snakes are safely asleep underground.

We left about noon thirty and my plan had been to mosey on back, stopping wherever we felt like. I did have a mission to stop in Helen and make unfavorable comparisons to the real towns in Germany. Of course, since it's been now 2 1/2 years since I went to Germany, I don't remember anymore! The weather was cold and rainy, and I do remember that. But except for the major cities that look more like Augusta than Helen, I don't ever remember seeing that many people. Well...maybe the Hauptstrasse...

You can't see the people in this picture, but I promise they were there. And here I thought we were the only crazy people to be out walking around in such weather.

The only other stops we made were potty breaks. Too many of them, but you know how that goes. As much as I wanted to stop and see sights, I really wanted to get back into familiar territory by dark. We only got lost twice on the way and I figured that was adventure enough.

Tax time is in a month or two. Time to start planning our next adventure!

Merry Christmas!

Feeling a little pensive tonight.

Not really. I am sitting here on the night shift hoping the good people of Augusta behave so I can go home at a decent time. (Selfish? Yes! LOL) I got to sneak away from work on my dinner break and drop in on my family's Christmas party. I'm in a pretty good mood.

But I have had a thought this week I feel compelled to share. It will get deep. Change the channel now if you like.

This time last week I was pretty well freaking out. We can all agree Christmas is a stressful time, right? There are all these parties, and shopping, and presents. And if you're like me, that all translates into money.

The rest of the year it's hard to find two nickels to rub together as it is, but at Christmas? We're supposed to show each other how much we love them by spending money on them. So last week I was down because all I could think of were the things I can't do. Mainly the things I can't buy for other people. And that makes me feel bad, like a I'm a failure or somehow don't measure up.

One night last week, as I crawled into my snuggly warm bed (I wish you could hear how many times I thank God for my snuggly warm bed. I love my bed!), I started praying about these things.

"Lord, I want so bad to get _____ for Christopher for Christmas! It feels so awful not to be able to give him this thing that he wants. And I feel so bad that I was only able to get _____ for Catie. Lord, I want to be able to give them whatever they want. I really just want them to have a good Christmas!

And about that time, I think I said something like, "Lord, I know that you keep a roof over our heads and that you keep us from being hungry....."

That's when something inside me said "Lisa, shut up."

I realized that everything I was complaining about was extra stuff. When I started thanking God for the things I do have - a warm bed, a full tummy, heat, a nice house, a job doing what I love that pays for it all, it felt ungrateful to complain because I don't have more for extra stuff. I wasn't asking God for needs. I was asking God for wants. Maybe that's not wrong, exactly. I think God wants to give us more. I like to think that it was good that I was upset because I wanted to give more. But I think maybe it was wrong to ask for it as though it was something I needed, something I'm somehow entitled to.

Believe it or not, God gave me more and I was able to do more. That doesn't make my attitude right, though.

In the past 5 years, since I have been on my own, God has met all of our needs, and quite a few of our wants.

Once I realized that, most of my stress went away. :)

Anyway, I thought I'd share that, in case someone else out there is stressing over what they aren't able to do. That's not what this Christmas thing is about. This is about thanking God first of all for His gift to us. For being thankful for everything He has already given us, for joyfully (not regretfully) giving what we are able, and enjoying spending time with each other.

This really is the most wonderful time of the year.

Merry Christmas, y'all!

Clandestine

So there I was, sitting in my car in the far corner of the Kmart parking lot, where I'd be fairly easy to spot.
I was waiting on a lady I knew only by first, middle, and last name and a Facebook photo, who would arrive in a black Dodge Charger with white stripes.
I hoped I'd recognize her.
The car pulled alongside mine. A man was driving. The woman, looking like she hadn't left the house all day, emerged from the car and came to my window.
"$25, right?" she said as she placed a couple of wadded bills into my hand.
I nodded and handed her the bag.
"Thank you,"
She ducked back into her car and they drove away.
She never even opened the bag.
This has happened before, once, when a woman driving a Tahoe met me in the parking lot of Academy Sports to sell me a turtleneck sweater.
As I drove away from Kmart, I hoped no cops were watching. In this particular neighborhood, the only defense I have is that a Bi-Lo bag of decorative plates in no way resembles a dime bag of an illegal leafy substance.
It's happening all over town. Middle aged women in Camrys meeting in parking lots to exchange cash for "the goods": baby clothes, Raggedy Ann dolls, boots and DVDs.
The Online Yard Sale: It's almost clandestine...except it's not.

One of my best writings

I was having coffee with one of my artist friends the other day, and we got to talking about poetry. Y'all, I am not a poet. It's just that every now and again, well, that particular bug bites.

I was telling her about this one....whatever you call it. I wrote it many years ago, during a dark period in my life when I was afraid to write, because I was afraid whatever I said would be either misconstrued or used against me. I hadn't thought about it in a long time until the other day, and I shared it with her.

And that made me think, hey! I should share it with you! So here. I hope you like it. :)



I shiver. I cannot see. I wait for my eyes to adjust to the unrelenting blackness, but they do not. They cannot. My hands shake. I reach out my hand, wanting to touch something, yet afraid I might. My hand reaches on. Grasping. For what, I do not know. Something...anything. I hug myself. Think...think. I am strong. I know I am strong. Why can't I think? A dream. "Wake," I whisper. Nothing. I begin screaming, "Wake! Wake!" Still nothing. Softly, softly a voice whispers, "It doesn't have to be this way." All is still. A little louder, "You have the power." Slowly, ever so slowly, thoughts, blessed thoughts, beginning to form in my head. "I have the power," I whisper, unbelieving. "I have the power!" I repeat. Something is different. Ever so softly, the blackness eases. Slowly, shadows appear. Shadows! Light! Hope! Only...it is still too dark to see. The world is misty. I rub my eyes, desperately wanting to see clearly. Knowing there is something to see, something I need to see. Searching, I will my eyes to focus...focus. But the world remains elusive. "I have the power!" I scream again, but it is not enough. More is needed. More what? "Think!" I command myself. Thoughts form. Thoughts! I can think! My eyes finally focus. I can see my surroundings. Something is beside me, whimpering. It is Confidence. I had not heard her before, but she is weeping now. She is broken...bloody....beaten. I wash her wounds with my tears. I fuse her bones with my will. I heal her bruises with my strength. I brush her hair and dress her in my finest gown. Sunshine envelops her, and she is beautiful. She heals my heart with her smile. Warms my soul with her laughter. She fades, and I am frightened. I turn to the mirror. The grey mist is gone, and I can finally see clearly. She is me.

And now....a poem entitled Hands

Don't ask me why, but I felt like writing a poem. Now I really must get back to work. ;)

HANDS

I look at my hands

They are always in front of me

I see them clutching the steering wheel

on the way to the grocery store

or to school

or work

I see them when I type

or write

or fold jeans

sometimes they look youthful

smooth

sometimes the nails are long and red

or pink

most times the nails are short, ragged

clear

Sometimes they look old

the ligaments beginning to create ridges in the skin

the skin, beginning to show signs of wear

More and more lined

Sometimes I look at my daughter’s hands

so youthful and smooth

holding her iPod

or a pencil

or her lunch bag

her long nails painted black

or green

or blue

And I wish my hands looked like hers

that my nails weren’t bitten

and I was brave enough to wear those colors

but then I look at my hands

and I think

of the work these hands have done

the laundry

the dishes

the writing

the driving

the grasping

the hand-holding

the soothing

the tear-wiping

the poking       

the tickling

the braiding

and I think

Thank you, Lord, for hands

There's a reason I decorate with words

I don't usually decorate for Halloween, but I really wanted to get into the spirit this year.

I got my inspiration from a candelabra I bought at a Civil War re-enactment. It's wooden and wrought iron (I think), and it looks pretty cool with white candles. I usually keep it on the top of my microwave, because I don't really know where else to put it. Sometimes I'll use it as a table centerpiece. I thought, it looks spooky enough.

I put a fall-themed tablecloth over a stack of round totes and put the candelabra in the center. Then I commandeered "Joey," the skeleton from my son's anatomy project, and a couple of cheap plastic jack o'lanerns.

So here's how it turned out.

Looks awful homespun, don't it. It looked so much better in my head. :(

Ah well.

I'll redeem myself at Christmas! :)

Groceries and stuff

I'm supposed to be getting ready to go to the grocery store. Instead I am blogging, 'cause its more fun.

I told you I have been trying to do the couponing thing, right? Well, I just took the last three Sunday papers out of their plastic wrapping. What I've been doing is cutting them out and putting them in baseball card protectors and putting them in a binder. They're supposed to be easier to find. However, this requires time and effort. I devote maybe an hour a week to clipping them but they're like bunnies! They mulitiply faster than I can clip them. So now I have a stack of coupons I refuse to look through and a binder full of clipped coupons that are probably close to expiring. If a coupon I want isn't in there, I don't use them. Extreme Coupon people make this look so easy!!

My freezer is officially bare. Normally I see what I have and go from there, but I'm kind of starting from scratch. So now I get to figure out what I want to make for the next month or so. Then I have to figure out what I need in order to do it. Then I have to go through these coupons to see if I can save 35 cents. (I may just go ahead and pay the 35 cents and save that step!)

Have you ever noticed how grocery shopping eats up an entire day?? Well, it's not the grocery shopping part so much as it is the planning to grocery shop. I end up getting 3/4 of my meals planned and saying "the other 1/4 will come from somewhere." Which, believe it or not, they always do.

I'm off today, which is good. I spent Sunday at church, shopping for compression shorts for Catie and catching up on some office work. Yesterday I spent cutting bushes and cleaning my car, and I did go have coffee with some friends.

That leaves today to grocery shop, clean the house and do laundry. Relax what?? And I had considered going to the lake with my Kindle today. Bahahahaha what was I thinking??

I have determined that maybe next year, I need to just use up all of my vacation time by making every week a three-day weekend. Maybe I actually catch up. Which I'm not doing now, so back to it!

Y'all have a great day!

Growing up

My  son is 17. Which means he's a senior. Which means he's thinking about things. Life things. Big things. Like college. Career. And moving out.

A few years ago, I'm thinking about life without the kids and I'm thinking "Wooo hooo!! I'm gonna have money and I'm gonna travel and I'm gonna do all kinds of cool stuff."

(I don't know where I think all that money will come from, but that's another blog post.)

Now that we're almost on the threshold I'm thinking....wait a minute. How did this happen?

This is weird. I remember being 17 and thinking I needed to be making $500 a week to move out. I don't think I realized you could live on a lot less than that until I saw my sister do it. I, on the other hand, got married before I tried to make it on my own and, well....I guess I did learn pretty quickly you could live on less than that. And raise a family on less, too, but that, too, is another blog post.

Last week we had a college recruiter at our dining room table. We have now formally applied for college. In Tennessee. It's what he wants. I'm hopeful for him. But it's Tennessee. I'm thinking "Lord, if he goes, I hope he remembers to wash his clothes once in a while," and "You know, I don't think I like this not letting me know where he is when he leaves the house business." We need to back up a minute!

*Sigh* He's growing up.

Today on the way home from school, his girlfriend was talking about an apartment she wants to get after she graduates.

Christopher asked me what I thought of him moving out.
I wanted to say "I don't!"

Just yesterday I was remembering him toddling across the living room, propping his elbows against my knees, looking up at me with that sweet little face and clapping his chubby little hands because he made it and didn't fall.

I said, "Well, I guess I think you need to stay home and go to school here where it's cheaper. Then when you have a good job, you need to move out. I don't want you living at home when you're 40. But no, I'm not exactly ready for you to go, either."

No, I really don't think I'm ready. But I am very fortunate. He is a good boy and I know he will do me proud.

Big thoughts about small things

Well, alright. So it's been a minute. Sorry for the disappearing act. I've been dealing with stuff and sometimes when you're dealing with stuff, it's the only thing you can think about. And I promise you didn't want to hear about it. And I don't do well hiding what's on my mind. So sometimes, the best thing for me to do is go away for a while.

I'll try to do better. ;)

Have you seen the weather today? I am so in love! I'm trying to hurry and get everything done so I can go for a walk before it gets dark. I got away from it for a while and I can tell it in so many ways. But it is way too pretty to be inside. I've got some cornbread in the oven, some chicken and noodles I made last week in the microwave, and I think I can do this!

The past couple of days I have had the migraine from hell. I normally only have to spend one day on the couch. This time it laid me out for two days. Yesterday I actually had to leave work. I have some meds that knock out the pain, but I was actually dizzy. I never get dizzy! (Shut up!)

The awesome thing about having a 17 year old is that when I have a migraine I can hand him $5 and say "Go get pizza for dinner." And he can! Then yesterday, he and his girlfriend heated up some leftovers I had in the freezer and did an awesome job of cleaning my kitchen. Awesome, awesome, awesome. That's all I can say. :)

I have my windows open. Oh. My. Gosh. How I love this! Okay....this is gonna sound ghetto but, I'm broke. My back screen door is in sad, sad shape. I cleaned it up because I love light and air, and I suffered through the summer keeping the back door closed. But I will NOT be able to live through the fall, too, with the back door closed. However, my screen is coming off at the edges. I have been meaning to tell the landlord about it so she can fix it, but they've been busy fixing other, more important stuff around the house.....like the air conditioner....that I hate to ask them to fix the screen too! So the thing is knobless, and it gaps, and the bugs are getting in. *sigh* I promise I will tell her about it. I promise! In the meantime, anybody got any duct tape??

Also, I have decided to start couponing. Three weeks ago. I researched how to organize it. Got a package of the baseball card holder thingys to put the coupons in. Found out I'll need two. Found extra coupons. They've been multiplying on my kitchen table. Two weeks ago (I think it was) I borrowed a binder from Cathy. Over the weekend I started clipping and organized them. I got through two coupon inserts. I have about a gazillion to go. I will try to work on it again some more tonight. I'm sure I'll have it done in time for the next batch of coupons. I wonder how many in my stack have expired? Anyway. Hopefully I'll get them all clipped and organized before the ones that came in the mail today expire. Next step? Find extra money to get started on that awesome stockpile. Hmmm....That could take another minute.

Ding! Time to eat and then walk. Later!


P.S. Here is my public service announcement for today. Jiffy cornbread expires. It loses a lot of its oomph after seven months. My son now believes  he's poisoned. Please check your expiration dates. You will thank me later. :)

Most people hate jury duty...

I'm kind of enjoying it.

Yes, I'm weird. We've established that. Moving on.

I'm 38 years old, been a registered voter most of my life and this is the first time I've been summoned. Y'all know how I love new experiences! Once I was in there, I was kinda soaking it up.

Naturally because I have that Anderson Thousand and One luck, there had to be a rare situation going on. I was called to come in on Tuesday at 8:45 a.m. We waited almost two hours, nothing happened, and we were excused and told to come back at 1:30 p.m. So we did. All 50 of us.

We suffered through two hours of Judge Judy and Judge Joe Brown (cruel and unusual? I think so! Who are these people?)  before it was finally explained to us that another trial had run late, causing this trial to start late, causing the jury selection for this trial to begin late, and well....now it's too late to select the jury by the end of the day, so we'll begin selection first thing Wednesday morning. Be back at 9 a.m.

So we did. All 50 of us.

I heard people complaining about losing two days worth of work. I've been off since Thursday. As of tomorrow, I've had a week off, only two days of which I requested. During that time, I've caught up on housework, laundry, done school shopping, grocery shopping, dealth with the kids' first week of school. I ain't complaining.

I am, however, incredibly curious. While everyone else was concerned about the work they're not getting done, I'm wondering what the inner workings of a courtroom really look like. Yes, I'm a reporter, but a general assignment reporter. Feature stories don't take you into very many courtrooms.  Yes, I've met judges. Yes, I've met lawyers. I've just never actually seen them work together. And I wanna know if it really looks like Law and Order in there.

Yeah, it kinda does. "There's like a judge and everything!" (-- Legally Blonde)

So anyway. They broke us up into three panels. I was on the first panel. We had to tell the court about ourselves. I always hated that part of first dates, by the way. At least the judge gave us a list of questions. All we had to do was answer them. I think this should be adopted on first dates. (Tell me your name, which side of town you live on, occupation and how long you've been there, and what do you like to do for fun. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, what kind of dressing do you want on your salad?)

When we got to the part about my occcupation, I thought, "this is it! He's going to dismiss me right now!"

Instead, the judge said "Have you ever written anything bad about me?" I smiled sweetly and assured him I had not.

The assistant DA asked the same thing....just to make sure. I should have had more fun with that, but....shoulda, coulda, woulda. LOL

Then we were dismissed for another hour and a half while the other two panels were examined. I was thinking Arby's...and that when I came back at noon I had no idea when I'd get to see lunchtime so I'd better eat now. And that I would probably see lunchtime five minutes after noon, because there was no way they'd want a member of the media on the jury.

A Thousand and One.

I was one of the chosen ones.

I can't talk about the case. Y'all know that. I will say it's a sad one. And I am taking it seriously. I am just savoring the new experience. And now chilling on my comfy couch, 'cause those chairs are definitely not.

We listened to some testimony, had some mechanical breakdowns, and I had a bit of a panic attack. Well, the one time I took my purse to the jury boxwith me, I started kinda freaking out about my cell phone going off. Because with my luck, I was afraid I had forgotten to silence it and the judge said he'd fine anyone in his court $100 if that bad boy goes off! So I'm trying to pay attention while nonchalantly bending over to turn my phone off and "OMG please tell me I didn't accidentally turn the sound back on instead!"

Thankfully, 10 minutes later he exused us for the day. And my phone did not go off.

We have to be back in the morning. I will be there with bells on....notepad in hand, cell de-batteried!

I have a new addiciton...

 It is called the online yard sale, and it has taken over what little free time I have left.
Really!

Like I'm not on the computer all day as it is, I come home at night, flip open the laptop and start grabbing piles of clothes. I have two more piles right now I have to work through before I can delve back into anybody's closet for more.

Let me back up. I found it a while back but didn't pay it much attention. Then Cathy says, "I made like $250." That kinda got my attention. So I started with a few things in my room. Namely, the jewelry left over from my Premier business. There were a few pieces that have been occupying space in the jewelry bag in the bottom of my closet. I wasn't gonna wear 'em, and nobody at my shows bought them.

So I drug them out for the first time in over a year, snapped photos of them, posted them online and they were gone in a week. Every. Single. Piece. And I was about $30 richer (I sold them really cheap) and very happy.

So I sold the bag, too. And the trays. And a dress or two.

And then I got an idea. Maybe, if I let them keep the money from the stuff we sell out of their rooms, the kids will get excited about cleaning their rooms.

It worked. Sort of.

Christopher started pulling stuff out of his room. He made about $12 and then he stalled. Catie and I spent one whole evening going through her closet. I pulled stuff out, she said "yea" or "nay," and we made piles. (Her closet looks great now, by the way! :) )

I took the piles to my room and thus began two weeks of selling. Not every night, but most nights, I come from work, snap photos, upload them, post them to the site and if I'm lucky, I get a few nibbles. Then once or twice a week, I take the things people want, put them in bags, put tags on them, record the transaction in a notebook, and load it up for the Shop and Drop, a consignment store where I can drop the whole shoot and shebang and a few days later, go get my money.

By the time I'm done, it's bedtime!

One night early on, about 10:30 p.m., I got tired of the piles of stuff in my living room and dang it, I just cleaned my bedroom so I wasn't about to start piling it in there! So.....I cleaned out the coat closet. Now everything in there except the vacuum cleaner is up for sale. When someone is interested in something, I just go pull it out of the closet.

Bonus points: The money I make is helping me buy school clothes. Double bonus points: if I buy clothes off the site and I just sold something, no money actually leaves my pocket!

The only problem is, when you give most of your attention to something new, another thing suffers. I won't be showing you any pictures of my house anytime soon! ;)

"I ain't complainin' but...

I'm tired, so I'm just sayin' what I think. And if we're being honest, then honestly I think I need a drink." -- Martina McBride

I am tired, and that probably has more to do with the state of mind I'm in than anything else.

I'm home for about 10 minutes, shoveling down a tomato sandwich because it's the quickest thing I can think of. I had to make sure Christopher got to work by noon. Today, I'm feeling like one work schedule to deal with is bad enough. Two could very well make me crazy.

Anyway.

It is so funny how one day you can feel like you’ve got the world by the tail, then for the next three it feels like the world is kicking yours.

My daughter is going to a private school in the fall. Can you believe that? I still can’t, either. In terms of opportunity for her, it is unbelievably awesome. We are all ecstatic. But in a more immediate sense, it creates another bill I have to pay, which is less I have to spend on other stuff...you know, like groceries...and I'm beginning to feel suffocated.

She needs new clothes because her natural state is blue jeans and T-shirts, not polos and khakis. To say nothing of school supplies and a lunch box, because y'all, I just can't do $3 a day for lunch.

 On the plus side, I’ve found a place to sell her clothes. Mountains and mountains of clothes. She is going to be rich, I told her as we pulled piles and piles out of her closet to sell on the Online Yard Sale. It got her excited enough to help.

It took me two days to list them posted. I'm not done. I have a pile on my floor that need to be washed before they can be listed. We have an album on the site with about 30 pieces that we pulled that were just hanging in her closet.

Yes, I feel like the world's worst mom for not culling this out sooner.

But I’m not even being facetious here. I’m talking about my evenings are photographing clothes while cooking dinner. Posting photos online while eating dinner. Going for a walk because I make myself. Coming home to finish posting online. Getting ready for bed while making arrangements to drop off items people want to buy. At 11:30 p.m. forcing myself to shut the computer off and go to bed. Taking another 15 minutes to wind down. Falling asleep around midnight. Waking up at 7 and hitting the snooze until 8. It's only getting worse!

All of this, for two days, for about $25. I am staring at my phone like a mad woman hoping to see a notification that someone else wants these things that we don't.

Tonight, I bag up what sold last night. I'm doing laundry and getting more clothes ready to post. I may walk. I may not. But either way, I plan to catch up on rest. Things always looks better in the morning...if you've had enough sleep.

Gosh, I sound ungrateful, don't I? I'm incredibly thankful she gets to go to this school. Any sacrifice is worth it. It really is!! It's just, sometimes, you want to give in and throw a temper tantrum when it pinches!! Thanks for listening. The people who are usually gracious enough to listen to me whine are all out of town this week! :) Besides, I'm officially late getting back to work. *sigh*

Ooh baby baby it's a wide world...

... Sorry. I couldn't think of a good title. 

I wrote this blog post yesterday, but I couldn't post it because of internet problems. By this morning, the issue had spread to my landline, my cable and my wireless router (which affects Facebook on cell phones and horror of horrors, iPods), all of which are connected to the same modem, which just sat there, all black and lightless. 

Bleary-eyed (I was still waiting for my coffee to brew) and while my cereal got mushy, I mashed the reset button on the back with a half-chewed pencil. The modem lights flickered, then flickered out. So I called Comcast to have them send me a refresh signal. Didn't work. The automated lady offered to put me through to a real person, who said he couldn't see my computer from his end. He asked me if it was plugged in. Of course it is, I thought. Otherwise no lights would have come on when I hit the reset thingy, right? Made sense to me. I had no idea which plug in the power strip was the modem, so I just started pushing in random plugs, and guess what? 

Yep. Shut up.

So anyway...here is the blog post I was gonna post yesterday. I'll wait for you to finish laughing. 

I have figured it out. I live vicariously through my subjects. Either that, or I'm ADD. 

We won't discount that possibility.

There is a ginormous world out there, and as much as I want to experience it all, I can’t. As much as I want to do it all, I can't. I meet people every day who are passionate about what they do, and they become amazingly good at it. That is why we write and read about them, after all. They study everything they can get their hands on about their one specialty.

I would love to have a fraction of their knowledge and be just a tiny bit good at whatever it is that they do. But frankly, I don’t want to invest that kind of time. Plus, I just find way too many things fascinating to be tied down to one specialty for very long. If I took a six-week course in everything I find interesting, I would never do anything outside a classroom. Besides, in three days I'd be like, "Okay, that was fun. What's next?" 

Take today. I talked to a 29-year-old chef who is clearly rising quickly to the top of his field. Twenty medals in the 13 years or so he’s been with the American Culinary Federation. There aren’t many chefs in his position in this area, I’m told. But every time I tried to talk about him, as a person, he steered the conversation back to food, and the profession. Actually, I don't think he steered it so much as we just kept ending up there. That's the passion talking. I tasted a fruit leather (think fruit rollups without all the sugar) he created just that morning. Just...out of the blue decided to make some berry puree and stick it in the dehydrator to see what it would do. And then there was the brisket he had cooking in this tub thingy that smelled absolutely divine. They won't be ready until Friday, though. All I know is, after 30 minutes of talking to him I was ready to sign up for a cooking class.

Then tonight, I spent two hours watching members of the Aiken Community Playhouse rehearse The Great American Trailer Park. What started off as an interview with a director ended up feeling like I was just hanging out with a group of friends. Or, talking to a group of friends I was welcome in but not necessarily a part of. Yeah, that’s it. Then they invited me to stay and watch. So I did. I remembered drama class in high school, and all the times I get up and sing karaoke in front of strangers. It is all fun and is great for building confidence. This group had so much fun “working” that frankly, I kind of want to go back tomorrow night. I almost wanted a part, too. And I left wanting to join a theater group. But honestly, I don't think I could handle the rehearsal schedule. Four nights a week. All day on Sunday. My hats off to all of them. 

Hmmm….maybe I need to write down all the things that I'm interested in. Sort of a Bucket List of things I want to do or learn before I die. Then I guess I need to get started doing something! 

Ballroom dance

Learn how to adequately decorate a cake

Take a cooking class

Take a writing class

Learn to row

Bike

Run

How to make a latte, or a cappuccino, or an espresso, or some other yummy coffee with whipped cream on top

How to run a business (preferably a coffee one)

Learn how to buy coffee beans, and how to roast them

Go see another country. Perhaps to buy coffee beans

How to invest and grow money

How to make some extra money...without sacrificing time with my kids/friends/family or a somewhat clean house (needed in order to grow money)

Gardening

Planting and tending a vegetable garden

Canning the stuff I grow in the garden….provided any ends up edible

Learn how to take an X-ray

Learn to give a shot (I don’t know why. I hate getting them.)

Learn how to write a book

Write for a home magazine

Sew curtains…and pillow cases…and a dress

The fundamentals of interior design

Learn about architecture

Walk across the country. (I’d be happy to drive, too.)

Coupon like a champ

I will definitely have to add to this list later. These are just off the top of my head. Tomorrow I’ll probably meet someone else cool, and I’ll want to do what they’re doing, too.

How times have changed

So there I was, interviewing a guy for a story when in walks his grown son. The son had to be in his late 40s, at least. If you said 53, I wouldn't be surprised.

My very first initial impression was, cool! (Please don't judge me. I am a child of the '80s.)

His full head of more-salt-than-pepper flowed behind him as he walked with that arena-rock-star swagger adopted strictly to make it move just like that. You remember how these guys walked, right? They threw their hair better than a swimsuit model. I don't remember if he were wearing a Motley Crue T-shirt, although that's how I now have him pictured.

That first impression lasted all of 10 seconds.

My second thought was, "Man, 20 years ago I'd have thought you were the coolest thing ever. Now, it's kinda sad."

I mean, that was 20 years ago. I would have been 18, that look would have been cool, and I would have been dumb enough to think that awesome rock-star good looks were all that really mattered, even if I was jealous their hair was prettier than mine.

It's funny how times and tastes change. The reason our parents hated to see us come home with one of those guys was that even 20 years ago, he probably didn't have a steady job. That would have been evidenced by the fact that he only had the 2-60 air conditioning in his Trans-Am (two windows down at 60 miles per hour). He probably would have lived in his parents' basement, too.

To see a guy like that now you think, wow. I bet you still work in a record store. Or the skating rink. (I've seen more of his kind there.) Is it bad that I was picturing this guy sitting in a Naugahyde recliner in the paneled living room of an old single wide with Kiss and Lita Ford posters all over the walls?

*Sigh* Me and Cathy talk about this on our walks sometimes. I told you we used to walk this very neighborhood when we were 12 and 13, didn't I? We used to look for these guys! We totally overlooked their primered cars with cracked windshields. We could forgive them because they were cute and looked very nice from behind in those Levis. We loved it every time one of them honked at us while we strolled the sidewalks of the highway. They still honk, only now we look at the cars and think "Yeah, right. Not in this life, buddy." Because the kind of guys who impress us now don't have longer hair than we do blowing in the breeze. And they would have more class than to honk anyway.

It's one thing to appreciate classic rock, but dude. You really don't have to dress the part anymore.

Re-entry

Let me see if I can illustrate this.

I have officially been back at work for three days. Reporting is my full time job. (Yay!) I have gotten exactly one story written. Because for two of the last three days, my full time job has been regaining all of the resources I lost access to.

Think about your job. Can you name all the little things you use that are specific to your job and your company? What would happen if they were gone?

I never thought about it, either. But basically:

* I couldn't write in our word processing program and save it into our publishing program, because I was missing the right link. Therefore, I had to email stories to my editor. Doable, but not preferable.
* I couldn't use our email program, either.
* It took until today (Tuesday) to get either  resolved. I started work Friday.
* I couldn't access previous stories to research a subject because I kept hitting the paper's paywall. I used up all my free pages Friday. It took a while to figure out that I had lost my free account when I got laid off, and to figure out how to get it back.
* I still don't have access to voicemail for the extension I am using. 5:30 p.m. is a bad time to realize nobody can leave you a message, as anyone who could fix this had already left for the day.

These are not necessarily bad things. The company does have to protect itself from disgruntled employees...like the recently laid off. But I just had forgotten how long it takes to get everything in place just so a body can do her job when she comes back.

I think...I hope...that I have all the bugs worked out now and I should be able to move full steam ahead. :)

Nevermind! I don't need to go shopping.

I'm actually almost caught up on laundry.

So...I know you're not supposed to air your dirty laundry in public, but I've had a basket of "hand wash onlys" and "dry clean onlys" and other "special care" labels that have been taking up residence in my laundry room for so long it was beginning to get its own junk mail.

I'd forgotten about that perfect "grown up" dress we bought for Catie to wear at Vince and Erin's wedding two years ago. It's hand wash only and...well...I did hand wash and she did wear it several times before it fell into the abyss. I hope it still fits her.

I also completely forget about last year's teal sleeveless blouse that I promise I did adore. I just didn't rescue it before it faded from memory. I'm quite happy to have it back.

I'm ashamed to admit, but I've had another one of these baskets occupying real estate in my bedroom, too. It was filled with fleece jackets and sweaters (so that's where that pretty pink YSL sweater went!). I'm kind of mad at myself. It's really not so hard to do this. It's almost like cleaning toilets. It doesn't take but a few minutes, so why is it so hard to just go ahead and do it? Why must I let it collect lint for six months, until I decide I'm finally sick to death of moving these ugly baskets out of my way?

I guess so I don't have to go shopping! :)

Sayonara...bring on tomorrow

So today was kind of...I don't know how to describe it.

It's rainy, which puts me in a dreary mood anyway. And I walked out of The Mirror for the last time today. Y'all know what an emotional fool I am.

Last week was when it hit me I'm out of a job again. I had a meltdown and did all my freaking out. (It wasn't pretty. Poor Robb. And kids.) I'm over it.

This just felt....I dunno. I hate goodbyes.

It was weird. My co-workers and bosses stood there and said goodbye and good luck as I walked out the door. I felt sad, but I really wished I had the chance to know them better. I think that made me more sad than actually saying goodbye to them. They're good people.

Of course, I've only been there three months. It felt like I should be a little more sad when I drove out of Thomson for the last time. I was a little sad, but I felt better by the time I got to Augusta.

Now I'm just trying to figure out what my new tomorrows will look like. Last time I was out of work I accomplished very little. This time I vow to make much better use of my time and actually do some things. I'll let you know how it goes.

Holy cow

Gotta share this. It's funny how things smack you between the eyes sometimes. Especially since this message has been coming to me for the last few days in a variety of ways.

"This just means God has something better in store for you," a lady told me just today, after asking what I'm going to do after our last paper comes out next week.

I needed to hear it. I had a meltdown yesterday. Some days you just don't want to put on your big girl panties. You just don't want to deal with it. You want someone to come make all the bad stuff go away. I think that's okay once in a while, as long as it doesn't go on for too long.

So anyway, tonight as I was eating dinner, I finished reading The Walk, by Richard Paul Evans. It's a true story. I thought I had problems. This man built a successful advertising company, married his best friend, drove a Lexus and lived in a $2 million home. Then his wife became paralyzed in a horse accident, while she recovered his partner stole his company, his car was repossessed, his wife then died from complications, and his home was repossessed. He decided to walk from Seattle to Key West, and this book is about his journey. Read it.

But he shared this story, and it just smacked me between the eyes. So I thought I'd share it with you. I'll try to abbreviate it. It's a Brazilian folk tale and it's kind of long.

A Master of Wisdom was walking through the countryside with his apprentice when they came to a hovel on a meager piece of farmland.
"Go see if they will share their food," the Master told his apprentice, though they had plenty of food.
The apprentice did as he was told. The farmer, his wife and and their seven children came to the door, their clothes tattered and dirty.
"My Master and I are sojourners and want for food. I've come to see if you have any to share," he said.
The farmer replied, "We have little, but what we have we will share." He gave the apprentice a small piece of cheese and a crust of bread.
The apprentice reluctantly took their offering. He didn't want to take from what little they had.
"Life is difficult, but we get by," the farmer said. "And in spite of our poverty, we do have one great blessing. We have a little cow. She provides us milk and cheese, which we eat  or sell in the marketplace. It is not much but she provides enough for us to live on."
The apprentice took the food back to the Master and told him about their situation.
The Master said, "I am pleased to hear of their generosity, but I am greatly sorrowed by their circumstance. Before we leave this place, I have one more task for you.
Return to the hovel and bring back their cow."
The apprentice did as he was told. When he returned, the Master instructed him, "See yonder cliffs? Take the cow to the highest crest and push her over."
The apprentice was stunned. "But Master..."
"Do as I say."
The apprentice sorrowfully obeyed, and he and the Master went on their way.

The apprentice grew in mercy and wisdom, but always felt a pang of guilt at the thought of the poor farmer's family. One day he decided to apologize for what he had done. When he arrived, he found the hovel gone and a large, fenced villa in its place.
"Oh no," he cried. "The poor family who was here was driven out by my evil deed." Determined to find out what happened to the family, he pounded on the door.
He was greeted by a servant.
"I would like to speak to the master of the house," he said.
A smiling, well-dressed man appeared.
"Pardon me, sir, but could you please tell me what has become of the family who lived here?"
"My family has been on this land for three generations," the wealthy man replied.
The apprentice looked athim quizzically. "Many years ago I walked through this valley, where I met a farmer and his seven children. But they were very poor and lived in a small hovel."
"That was my family," the wealthy man said. "God works in mysterious ways. We had this little cow who provided us with the slimmest of necessities, enough to survive but little more. We suffered but expected no more from life.
Then, one day, our little cow wandered off and fell over a cliff. We knew that we would be ruined without her, so we did everything we could to survive. Only then did we discover that we had greater power and abilities than we possibly imagined and never would have found as long as we relied on that cow. What a great blessing from Heaven to have lost our little cow."

Maybe newspapers are my cow.

Hello....goodbye

I'm not even going to apologize for my absence this time. Trust me. You haven't wanted to hear the thoughts in my head. You would have been patting my knee sympathetically with one hand and dialing the asylum with the other. I can't promise I'm saner now, but the earth is definitely a little less shaky.

A week ago, my boss had to have surgery. He is out on medical leave for the rest of the time we're open. Next week is our last issue. Guess who gets to figure out how to say goodbye for a paper that has served this community for the past nine years?

How do I do that when I've only been there three months?

That's what's been on my mind since about 3 p.m. today, right after I finished Thursday's paper and turned my attention to next Thursday. How many stories do I write? What about the stories we already have? What should run? What should never see the light of day? How much new stuff do we cover? What exactly do we say to close this chapter in the town's history?

I wanted to see how The Mirror said hello. It took me about one minute to find the very first issue. (Somebody was clearly a whole lot more organized than I am.) I read the first article, written by the staff, announcing the new paper, its mission and its goals for serving the community. In true me fashion, I started writing a column. Because I narcissistically believe everyone is dying to know what I have to say, I guess.

Not really. I just think this is one of those occasions that needs a personal touch. I guess I feel like somebody should actually say goodbye. I'm not at all the person to do it. I've been there three months. I'm still being introduced to people who pop in to say hello. I haven't met the mayor. There are streets I haven't seen yet. There are restaurants I haven't eaten at. I can't name all the main thoroughfares. I still don't know where all the bad parts of town are, and which are the really good parts. But since I'm the only writer there...somebody's got to do it. Don't they?

I will meet with the publisher tomorrow. Perhaps he can write something for us. But I don't think he can say goodbye the way I think we should, either. He is based in Louisville and hasn't been publisher very long. I have a vision and I believe I'm right. I just wish I had the relationship with the town to make it mean something.

A Single Point of View: The Unemployment Chronicles, Round 2

A Single Point of View: The Unemployment Chronicles, Round 2: Well, that was fun while it lasted! In a little less than a month, the last issue of The Mirror will roll off of the press. I'm really sad...

The Unemployment Chronicles, Round 2

Well, that was fun while it lasted!

In a little less than a month, the last issue of The Mirror will roll off of the press. I'm really sad about it, for a number of reasons. Not the least of which is that I will once again be out of a job.

I was beginning to like it in Thomson. I was beginning to get to know the people. I like to think at least a few of them were starting to trust me. (Small towns are funny like that. It takes time for them to decide to know and like you. Until they do, you don't stand a chance.)

I was doing what I love....meeting cool people and telling their stories. I really didn't mind sticking around the office for a few extra minutes when I needed to. I didn't mind presenting ideas, because it was fun and didn't feel like just one more thing added to an over-filled plate.

The drive was nice, too. Oh, I hated it every (frequent) time I went to the pump, but the drive itself was nice. I had an hour and a half alone with myself each day. I caught up on phone calls. I psyched myself up and down for work. I solved the world's ills..at least in my mind. I caught up on karaoke practice.

I'm really not sure what I'm going to do next. I don't say "now," because we still have a few issues to produce. The atmosphere around the office has been somewhat like a funeral, but I have made up my mind to contiue to work as though no atomic bomb has fallen on our heads. In a month, everything will change. But until then, everything is the same. I still have stories to write, and I still love what I do, so I'm going to keep doing it to the best of my ability. Why not?

While this was a shock, it's much different than last time. Then, I'd grown to hate my job. I think I was completely burned out. I was relieved to walk away. A five-month rest greatly rejuvinated me. The ideas flowed again, and they had merit. I remembered that I'm a good reporter and I rediscovered my passion for it. Working at The Mirror reminded me of all of that and restored my confidence. My friends noticed that I was more myself than I had been for a long time. I was happy.

I can't tell you how much I am not looking forward to going back into unemployment. It's not even the uncertainty of it all. It's the drudgery of not having any place to go or anything meaningful to do. You have to create that for yourself, I know. But I mean, I did that. I went to school and built a career. I found something to do that was meaningful to me. But when it's gone, then what? I spent five months trying to figure that out and never found the answer.

I've decided the best thing I can do is capitalize on the momentum I have now and work toward finding another job while I still have a reason to put on makeup. While I still believe I have something of value to contribute. Because if I sit around long enough, I'm afraid I will forget again.

First kiss

Christopher had a date, so Catie and I were bacheloretting it tonight. We had a lovely dinner at Kong Wah, full of girl talk about -- what else -- boys. (At least she's talking to me about it, y'all.) Then, like the wild and crazy women we are, we washed the car, gassed it up, and went grocery shopping.

Whilst on our excursion, we passed the duplexes that were my mom and stepdad's first place together as a married couple. I think we lived there less than a year.

"Look," I told Catie. "Did I ever tell you we used to live there?"
"No," she said.
"Yep. That's where I had my first kiss. I was like 6. Maybe 5,"

She grinned and rolled her eyes at me in that "Mom, you're so lame" way teenage girls do.

"No, really," I said. "His name was Bo Skipper."

(He kept saying his name was spelled Beau. He thought he was so smart and all just because he knew how to spell encyclopedia. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. I didn't know how to spell it. But I still think I knew how to spell his name. B-O. So there!)

She cracked up. I mean -- belly laughed.

I still don't know what was so funny.

ANYWAY....see, me and him were playing house. Rhonda was our daughter. We sent her to the backyard to "school."

He looked at me and said "You wanna kiss."
Of course shy lil ol' me said "Uh huh." I probably even drew in the dirt with my big toe and looked at the ground.
And then I thought, Oh no. If Mama looks out the window she'll see us. We have to hide.

So we went behind this scraggly little Charlie Brown bush in our front yard. It was perfect, because it was under the window where she couldn't see if she looked out. Although I still wasn't fully convinced she wouldn't catch us.

"Long or short?" he asked.

I had no idea what a "long" kiss would entail, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't like it. Plus, Mama was gonna catch us any second. "Short!" I said.

So he gave me a quick peck on the mouth. And then we went to find Rhonda and I'm sure I was blushing furiously and I think she was spying on us anyway.

The end. :)

New stuff equals clean house

I wrote this Sunday night, but my internet was on the fritz. So I saved it into Word and I'm just now getting around to sharing it. Procrastination what?!



What is it about a new TV that makes you clean your laundry room?

Dang, I was hoping you could tell me. All I know is, I finally splurged on one of those sleek black TVs to bring us into the 21st Century, and the next thing I know I find myself throwing away empty cleaner bottles that have been collecting lint for the last two years.

Of course, that was after I reorganized my silverware drawer, vacuumed, threw away a weeks' worth of newspapers, started a load of laundry, unclogged a drain and thought about dusting the living room.

Methinks maybe it's just been too long since I've bought anything new for the house. I’ve just been seeing the same old stuff and it just turns into a big mental to-do list I don’t feel like tackling.

An old friend once told me that to get herself in the mood to clean, she bought something new for the house. Because then, see, you have to clean a spot for it. And then you have to clean the area around it so it looks good. And then you have to clean the rest of the room so that area looks good. And then you end up having to clean the whole house. It’s true. I’ve noticed this phenomenon.

Can you tell it’s my second favorite time of the year? I love tax time!  I get a nice fat refund and for a few weeks, I am rich.

I start making my wish list in January. Where do I want to go? What do I want to do? What do we need?  (It’s a good thing my kids’ birthdays are in the spring. That’s all I’ve got to say.)

I don’t shop during the year. I just don’t. But tax time? Whoopee!

Okay, I don’t just blow it. First I take care of the necessities. A year’s worth of cable bills. A gallon of shampoo. (That was new, but I think I’ll make it an annual tradition. Great hair stuff I won’t have to buy again this year. In other words, no buying crappy grocery store goop in September because I can't afford the good stuff anymore. :) ) Pay off the credit card bill. Put some away for a rainy day (which does not include the day I run out of good shampoo).

And then…yep, Mama bought a new TV! And silverware! And towels!

The silverware. Y’all. I mean, you have no idea how happy that makes me. We had these things with plastic handles, and it had pieces that were falling off. Half of my mismatched set was given to me as a wedding gift in 1994. The other half I found with a set of dishes in my attic. (What? It was still in the box.) I am ecstatic to have found a pretty set of flatware that should last me until I’m sick of it, or until I die, whichever comes first.

And the TV. I should have done this a long time ago. After playing musical televisions for a year, we finally settled on Catie’s TV for the living room, which she had adorned with stickers from a shoebox for a pair of shoes I’m not sure she still even owns.

I tell you what, though. Right now my house looks better than it has in weeks, and it feels like home. J

The concert

I love my boyfriend. He takes me to concerts. :)

We went to see Elton John last night. You know me. I love to soak up the world around me. I'm sitting there, watching the man come on stage and watching the crowd respond to him. Like it tends to do, my brain started thinking in descriptive sentences. I'm writing in my head and wishing like heck I could blog from my seat.

(It wouldn't have worked so well on my cell phone. I think I need a better solution.)

When we found our seats and sat down, these two guys in suits were onstage playing cellos. I don't remember what they were playing when we sat down. I just remember thinking that it seemed fitting for some reason.

Ha ha. And then they bust out with

(You'll just have to click on it and come back. I can't figure out how to make the video show up here.)

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I'm pretty sure it's not natural to do that with cellos.

Robb said if they really wanted to impress him, they should play Ozzy's Crazy Train.

I kid you not, their next song was

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The won a new fan.

Now that we were all pumped up, Elton took the stage.

Y'all know how I think by now. If you don't, you should. I'm looking at him thinking, he's just a man.

I don't mean that disrespectfully, but down on a physical level, he's a man. He showers like the rest of us do. Maybe with nicer stuff, but still. He eats like the rest of us. On a molecular level, he is a man. He was blessed with a talent that has entertained millions of us, and we have elevated him to a point where he is almost untouchable. I couldn't imagine sitting down and having a conversation with him. And yet, I mean, really, I could if the circumstances were right.

I think these same thoughts whenever I'm around famous people. Apparently I only get tongue-tied when I'm talking to Neil Sedaka. (I would have been fine if I had just pretended I didn't know who he was! But that might have made him mad, seeing as I'm a reporter and all.)


I know. I think weird thoughts. But that's what I was thinking as I watched him sit down. I had a blast watching the crowd. One dude on the second row was ridiculously excited to be there. He kept pumping his fist like this was the rockin'est concert he'd ever been to. (Maybe it was.) I watched people with no rhythm try to move like they haven't in probably 20 years. Young'uns swilling beer and dancing like they're his number one fan. (They probably bought their first Elton John CD last week.) Mothers and daughters doing the same. Families with kids out past their bedtimes. It was something. The place was packed.

We were seated to the left of the stage. I couldn't even see the screen without straining. There was some kind of lights going on behind him, but I couldn't see what it was. I had a fantastic view of the glittering rose on his back, though.

Sir Elton John performed for three solid hours. When I say performed, I mean he played and sang, stood up, turned around to wave at every section in the arena, maybe said a word or two, rinse and repeat. For three solid hours. Y'all. After about two and a half hours Robb and I had to take a break from sitting to go stretch our legs. 'Cause we needed a break! We are half almost his age and don't have his stamina.

*Sigh* It was great. If you weren't there, you really should have been.

Now I can't wait to see Lady Antebellum!

Spin 'em!

Ooh, sorry, y'all! Fourteen days since my last post. Unforgiveable.

I'm plate spinning again. The blog plate is wobbling. :) Lately I'm feeling like so is the friend and relationships plate, because I'm missing everybody, and people are starting to think I'm mad at them. I'm not. I promise!!  The house cleaning plate had fallen off the stick completely, and some days I'm not even sure I care!

Heck, the work plate isn't looking real steady, either. There was a minute or two this week I was starting to think I was cocky for considering myself a good reporter. It turns out certain factions in town do not like us as an institution because of some things that happened in the past. And this is a small town with a "taking care of our own" mentality. I was slightly comforted to realize the problem is not me, but now I'm just ticked! I have an obligation to my readers and I can't meet that if you're going to withhold information out of spite!

Ahem. 'Scuse me. Rant over.

One thing that is tough is handling days like today. My mom is out of town (because I have a new niece!), and Christopher came home from church last night with rashes on his arms and complaining of a sore throat. I have to take him to the doctor today, which means rescheduling an interview I had for this morning and going to work whenever I get there. And I have to go to work, because I have to cover a school board meeting tonight. I'm sure this all feels worse because work is 45 minutes away. I think my Mama has spoiled me, because if she were home she would take him to the doctor for me!!

I don't mean to complain. As I reread what I've written here, I realize it's no tougher than anything else. It's just life. But I wanted to blog and these are the things on my mind this week.

I hope everyone had a lovely Valentine's Day! Robb was sick, so we cooked dinner at his house, watched NCIS and exchanged gifts. He gave me a ginormous box of chocolates and a ginormous stuffed red and white dog. It guards my bed while I'm at work. :)  I made him a CD. Yes, I know it's corny, but he liked it. :)

I hope y'all have a good week. :)

A day in the most fabulous life ever....

I've been feeling almost giddy the last few days. I swear if things get any better I'm just gonna.... cry. I guess, because you can only smile so wide.

Omigosh I'm doing what I love again and I'm on cloud nine! That my boss is happy with my work and my timetable just makes it that much better. I like going to work. The day is over before I know it, and I'm not totally sapped.

On that note, I HAVE to share my day with you. This is the epitome of why I love what I do. I think I floated home.

This morning I spent about an hour with a school principal. She is the second to the youngest out of 10 siblings. There is a 23 year age difference between the oldest and the youngest. The older siblings went through school during the time of segregation (she's black). The younger ones went to integrated schools. She shared some of the conversations she and her siblings have had lately about the pros and cons of integration. Now, coming from a generation that didn't know any different, I couldn't imagine how segregation could be good. But she told me that her older siblings had a relationship with their teachers that younger generations only wish they had. The communities were smaller and more tight knit. The kids interacted with their teachers in the neighborhood and at church, because they were from the same segregated neighborhood. She said kids today love their teachers, but kids of her older siblings' generation loved their teachers. It actually made me kind of sad to think of what has been lost by this good thing.

Oh, AND she is a cancer survivor and did her time in the trenches as a single mother. I'm a little in awe. Walking in, I had no idea such a story would come out of this soft-spoken woman.

This afternoon I rode around a 1,200 acre dairy farm and learned more about milking cows than I ever needed to know. It was like a field trip. (Bonus: it was a GORGEOUS day!) But believe it or not, it was really interesting. Of course, almost anything is interesting if you're talking to someone who is passionate about what they do. And I think in my next life I want to come back as a milking cow. They have got it made!

I had interviews back to back all afternoon, and it almost seemed pointless to go back to the office. I had figured I would though, til my boss says "Why don't you check out that restaurant in Dearing. See if it's worth a business profile. Go get yourself a cup of coffee. Then I'll just see you tomorrow."

Hmmm. Twist my arm. Go ahead!

I knew which one he was talking about. It's in an old filling station on the corner. You almost don't even see it. I think it's the intersection before the blinky light.
I wasn't gonna, but I thought, what the heck.

The city slicker in me is soooo glad I did! I was going to get coffee, but they didn't have any made. So I got sweet tea (it was as good as a tiny cafe in a small Georgia town should be.) I thought I'd get a small slice of something sweet to go with it.

Well, she hadn't had time to make any yet today. She was going to work on it, but...things just kept coming up. I couldn't fault her for it. She was running the kitchen by herself, back and forth between the kitchen and the register. Chit chatting with the customers. You could see she wasn't negligent, just busy.

But lucky for me, she did have one dessert made. Cherry-apple pie. She had never made it before, but I could be her guinea pig if I wanted. Sure! I mean, the sign on the counter reminded me that this was NOT a fast food restaurant, and if I wanted sweet potato fries it could take almost 10 minutes, since it would be made to order.

So I got the first slice of this new concoction. It wasn't bad, really. I sat at a little diner table in the window and watched a handful of cars whiz by the intersection. And the teenage boys snickering at me while they waited on their chili fries. (Probably because I was imagining myself in some Fried Green Tomatoes movie scene and y'all, when I'm enjoying myself it shows on my face. It just does. It's a character flaw.)

As I left she asked about the pie. I suggested next time she use cherries without pits, but other than that I thought it tasted fine. I didn't tell her, but it was not fabulous. It was good for a first attempt. The crust was great, the filling could use a few more spices. Maybe more cinnamon. I'm not sure. But the experience was totally worth the price of pie. And yeah, I might have to write about it. :)

Readjusting

Not all of us are happy about me getting a job. I mean, we are thankful, and we will be happier when the paychecks start rolling in. But Monday morning my daughter got upset with me on the way to school. I don't remember what prompted it, but she said "I don't even feel like your daughter anymore!"
"Why not?" I asked.
"I don't want to talk about it now," she said, and went on to school.

That evening she referenced the conversation, so I asked right then for her to expand on it.
"I feel like you're never here. You're always at work."

We're not even two weeks into it. I'm feeling really blessed because I am allowed to take her to school at 8:30 a.m. before making that 45-minute drive to work. I don't take a lunch break so I can leave at 5:30 and be home shortly after 6 p.m. I can take an afternoon off to take her to the doctor. Whatever its shortfalls, this career field is the most flexible I've ever known.

But I guess five months is enough time for all of us to forget what its like being in a single working parent's home. I hated seeing that look in her eyes, but I told her, "I can understand why you would feel that way. I've been home for a long time. But I have to work to pay the bills. I understand how you feel, but it can't be helped."

I'm happy she seemed to understand. She hasn't said it again. I guess it will take some time to readjust.

I am a reporter, and I love my job.

It's early enough and the stress is such that I can still say that. I know the day is coming when I'm going to feel like a beat dog again. Maybe not. I hope not. But at any rate, I remember that I love my job.

Today I was called beautiful by a fireman (who meant nothing by it, by the way), and was hugged by a school principal who just has a fantastic personality, was thankful for coverage of her school and just seemed like a really great person to know. I'm really going to enjoy working with her.

I also got a blast from the past when I covered the Georgia Power guys teaching safety around electrical wires. You remember Louie the Lightning Bug, right? Of course you do!

The plugs still crack me up.

It was kind of awesome watching it again. It was cool, too, to see a bunch of fifth graders laughing at him. Humor never goes out of style!!

Yep, this is what I love. Getting out of the office, meeting cool people, seeing cool things, and then writing about it. I can't help it. It's my calling. And I'll happily share what I can, when I can! :)

Unemployment Chronicles -- THE END!!!

So guess what?

I am no longer unemployed!!!

I will be a reporter the McDuffie Mirror, and I'm kind of excited. Do you realize that I've been out of work five months? I know. It doesn't seem like it.

So it's funny. I mean, I've been sitting on my butt for five months. I did things, but mostly I sat around and ate too much and watched too much TV. (Trust me. My jeans are telling on me.) So it's funny. They tell me I have a job and all of a sudden there are all of these things I need to do because beginning Monday, I won't have time. Like, I need to clean my closets, and donate tons of crap to Goodwill, and I never got my lawn straightened out, and coffee!! I didn't drink enough coffee with friends! And...and...and...!!!!

I really think my house will be cleaner after I go back to work. I know. It makes no sense. But it's true!

I think this break was a good thing, though. I found out I do still really enjoy reporting, but wow was I burnt out! For a couple of months the idea of writing another story made me almost break out in hives. I spent close to $200 trying to find something, anything I could do that would bring me as much satisfaction without actually having to be a reporter. I wonder if I could take a five month sabbatical every few years. Hmmmm...... ;)

I'm down to my last weekend. (Well...weekend that isn't flanked by work weeks, anyway.) Tomorrow I go to human resources and sign papers. Then I do my last freelance Today's Home (*sniff*), try to have coffee with a girlfriend, take the kids out for a celebration dinner and probably collapse into bed. Then there's menus to plan, grocery shopping to do, housecleaning....

Y'all. I'm going to have to go to work to get some dang rest!! It's all good. :)

OH, and I already have a potential friend up there. So let me tell you. One of Robb's friends lives in Thomson and she knows this lawyer that she thought I'd hit it off with. She thought I'd need someone other than work people to socialize with. So I went to a knitting group last night to meet her. That was loads of fun. No, really! It was at this ranch where they raise alpacas. The owner actually let one of them into the den where we were sitting. It was a trip! She sat right there and spun raw fibers into thread for lace...after she took the alpaca back outside, of course. (His name is Frank and he is a-dor-a-ble. :) ). Honestly...I didn't know there were so many types of fibers. I mean, banana fiber? Yah, I definitely learned new stuff.  Like, raw cashmere feels divine. AND, I didn't have to come back and write about it. I got to be curious for free! They were a very warm, lively group. And the girl and I exchanged cards and will probably get together for lunch as soon as I get my bearings, which will be good. My office is tiny. There will only be two other people there. I will need lunch buddies.

I think for now I'm going to make some coffee, climb into some jammies, and catch up on The Mentalist, Once Upon a Time, and see if there are any new Rizzoli and Isles. After Monday I may forget the shows even exist. :)

Sometimes charity is a two-way street

Christopher wanted tuna casserole for dinner tonight, so I ran to the grocery store real quick to get the ingredients and a few other things.
I ran into a lady I used to go to church with. She's always been very sweet to me and my kids, and was shocked when I told her I've been out of work since August. I've seen her several times and my dad, stepmom and sister see her regularly. I'm not sure how this piece of news escaped her, but that doesn't really matter.
As soon as I told her that she insisted on paying for my groceries. She said God told her to.
I tried telling her she didn't have to do that, but she insisted. I kept telling her I was okay, and she still insisted.
I don't know if God spoke to her. It's not for me to say. But God knows what I have in my food stamp account. God knows I get more in a few days. God knows I have enough food in my kitchen to last until then. God knows food is the one thing I don't need.
So I really can't say whether God spoke to her or not.
But He sure spoke to me.
I'll be honest, y'all. I have very little pride left in these matters. I've had to ask for a lot of help in my life. Asking for help really hurts a body's pride.
But when people offer, it stings the pride a little too. Have you ever noticed it's harder to accept help than it is to give it? Sure you have.
My church friend had to finish her shopping and asked me to wait.
Talk about hard. I didn't really want to. I didn't feel I needed it. I actually considered going straight to the checkout line instead of waiting.
But that wasn't the point at all.
My friend was so happy to help. As we checked out, she told me that she loves to help people. She doesn't normally shop in this store, she said, but God has a plan and look at this. She came to this store so she could help me out.
Like I said, I really don't know if God spoke to her. But He spoke to me.
She was so happy to be able to  help that I think it would have been more unkind of me to deny her to spare my own pride.
Please don't think I mean that people (meaning me) should just take, take, take. That's not at all what I'm saying. Sometimes people offer help to be polite, but they don't really mean it. You can tell. What I am saying is if someone perceives you have a need and they genuinely want to meet it, it is also charity on your part to let them.
Sometimes charity isn't about the thing you are given. Sometimes charity is about not denying someone the pleasure of helping you.

Random ramblings

I keep thinking I have nothing to talk about.

Me? Yeah, right!

In the last week, we've:

* Shot off fireworks. Okay, no. We watched fireworks being shot off at Rob's sister's house. The kids all shot Rob's flare gun, which kinda looks like fireworks but sounds like a gun. I was content to stay under the carport (read: safety). This is how I know I'm a mother. Or maybe just a nervous ninny. All I could think was "Oh, Lord, please don't let those hit that power line!" and "The tree! You're gonna set the tree on fire!" and "Please let that thing explode before it lands on somebody's roof/car/head!" I did a good job of keeping these thoughts to myself, mind you, or I'd have been laughed off the block. The kids still laughed at me just because I jumped. Almost every time. Whatever.

* Gotten the kids cell phones. The random texts I'm getting are pretty funny. "haha thanx im trapped in my room XD" (I did kinda have the attic ladder down and, um...broken). It gave me the chance to text her back "good! clean it while you're in there!" (hee hee)
Or better yet, my son sitting on the couch literally close enough to reach out and touch someone, texted: "hihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihi hi mom." I mean, really? I think they've just found a new way to annoy Mama.
Entertaining? Yes it is. Rob's learning he has to take up a new language, especially to communicate via text with Catie. It took him five minutes to figure out what WYD means. (What are you doing?) I'm glad he figured it out. I probably would have had to just ask her!
I must admit, though, I love being able to be in touch with them whenever they are not with me. And now that is becoming more and more often as they spend more time out with friends.

* took down the Christmas decorations. We nothing. That was all me. Every year it cracks me up how I can't wait to get the Christmas stuff out. I love decorating for Christmas. But once the holiday is over, I can't wait to rescue my house from all the Santas and snowflakes. It's funny how empty my house seems to look once the tree is out of the living room.

* went to do another Today's Home. (Again, all me.) I love looking at people's houses. I must confess, I'm a voyeur at heart. If I'm driving down the road at night, I love it when people leave their windows open. I don't want to see what you're doing. I just want to see how your house is decorated. And if you have anything other than a cookie cutter curb appeal, I want to see how your house is laid out. I'm thinking, where would the living room be in that house? How about the kitchen? What's it look like in there? I wanna see!!
This house was 6,000 square feet. It seemed like it went on forever. Beautiful. New. Huge. For two people. I never really understood why two people need that much space. Maybe it's just because I know I'll never have a house like that, but the more of these places I go into, the more I like my cozy little 1,000-ish square foot home. I can clean it in two hours and be done! I've been in homes with seven bathrooms and I keep thinking...somebody's got to clean all those toilets! Yes, I know. People with homes like that can probably afford maids to clean all those toilets, but still. That's an awful lot of space for just a few people. But for the 45 minutes or so I'm in their homes, I can definitely appreciate the beauty of them and for a minute, daydream. :)