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1) I will find a way to keep track of passwords (especially, my own blog site, and yes, it is pitiful)
2) I will breathe in more of God's grace and expel more of the world's attempt to drag me down in the abyss of apathy
3) I will write..write..write..write..write
4) Then, I will submit, submit, submit, submit
5) I will abound in love
6) I will be selfish when necessary (is that a contradiction to #5?)
7) I will make sure I have alone time with each of my grandchildren
8) I will show generosity of spirit
9) I will hike as many trails as possible and still do No.'s 3 and 4
10) I will do my will's
There. I've written them down, plus posted them for others to witness. Writing them down is a promise...letting you read them is accountability. I'm now set to conquer 2010!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
contemplative
I love nothing better than to get up, sneak a peek out my window, and see some new, wondrous view from my spot on Sand Mountain. I call my little place Big Woods. Where we are located has been logged. Having been part of thick forest at one time means most of the remaining trees grow straight up toward the big sky. We have a field of sage grass on one side which meanders down the mountain and various thickets that fill in spaces that dip between the rolling acreage. These areas provide perfect hiding places for white-tailed deer that like to come out in the mornings for their morning stroll, lots of rabbits, squirrels, and all sorts of bird-life.
We keep a bird feeder full so we are visited by bright gold finches, rose finches, cardinals, wrens, red-winged black birds, and myriad other birds. The hummingbirds congregate around their feeder perched on the rail of our deck, sometimes a dozen at a time. They have become so tame, my husband is able to sit with a lid full of their feed in his hand and they will light on it to eat.
Last evening, I saw something I have never witnessed before: a clear-winged moth. This insect strongly resembles a tiny hummingbird. I actually thought it was a baby hummingbird until we got a better look at it and realized it did not possess a beak. It drank from the hummingbird feeder though, and the flowers around the deck.
Our granddaughters, Micaela, age 7, and Elizabeth, 16 months, were here with us as we sat outside in the evening and observed all the nature God had on display. Earlier in the day, we had picked blackberries. Micaela and I made a cobbler. We have good health. Does life get any better?
Nature has a way of grounding your senses, reminding you there is a vast order to life, yet it is wild and you are part of it!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
content
I knew better, but I did it anyway. I convinced my husband, Rusty, that we could handle five grandchildren together this weekend. They range in age as follows: Micaela, 7, Nate, 6 (almost), Gabe 4, Asher, 2 1/2, Elizabeth 15 months. They came on Saturday afternoon and spent the night. I don't have time to tell you everything they did, but here's a little of what you would have heard at my house if you were a fly on my wall.
"Elizabeth, do NOT stick your hand in the potty." She looks at me like I'm a complete numbskull who doesn't understand that she is bound by some cosmic bond with the potty and MUST stick her arm in the potty...which she does, again and again. The biggest problem with this is sometimes the boys forget to flush the potty. NOTE TO SELF: Keep anti-bacterial soap around when Elizabeth is here.
"Asher, I told you not to sit on the water-spout." "But, Nana," he says, "it tickles my bottom." He proceeds to back-up to the water-spout toy we have set up in the yard to let it tickle his butt before he plops down on top of it.
"Micaela, don't be a tattle-tale," when she runs to me to tell me Asher has squashed the water-spout that she wanted to squash. Somehow, everything and anything that is not right, broken, or just plain wrong is caused by her brothers. And yet, she mothers them constantly.
"Elizabeth, get your hand out of that potty!"
"Nate, are you sure you can eat that much?" He has a huge portion of chicken, corn on the cob, a pile of potatoes, and garlic bread on his plate. I've never heard him say he didn't want dessert, but he turned down pound cake with sliced peaches. Shortly, when I saw him looking a little green around the gills, "Nate, if you're going to be sick, run to the potty!" What concerned me was he actually ambled off toward the bathroom. About thirty minutes later, he decides he does want dessert. That's my Nate.
"Gabe, please don't ride your bike that fast if you don't know how to use the brakes." I repeat this request several times, but it is ignored several times as he careens down my driveway at breakneck speed (well, it seems like breakneck speed to me) until he goes out of control and crashes. Repeatedly. Scuffed knees with sniffles each time. He gets up and does it over and over again.
"Elizabeth, get your hand out of that potty!"
Rusty arranged for the four older ones to 'camp out' in the 5th wheel in our driveway. Somehow, I get Elizabeth to sleep in her port-a-crib. He took the boys for a 'hike' down our road and they pilfered blackberries growing on a lot nearby. Micaela and I sat outside and watched a lavender tinted sunset and listened to the cricket chorus. Fate smiled at me because at 10:30pm, Rusty has the boys and Micaela in the camper and I am alone in my bed....aaaahhhhh, yes! See, I told you we could handle it,
Sunday morning after I prepared a gazillion waffles, they all had baths, we dressed them for church and their dad picked them up! We did it!! We were only fifteen minutes late for church!! We rock!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
cheerful
www.youtube.com/watch
My friend Cyn Mobley forwarded this You Tube. Wow!! Double Wow!! Talk about a wake-up call. There is so much in this video to discuss.
First, I'd say some will think it controversial with perhaps racial overtones. I'll let you, the viewer, decide. My opinion on that is no. I don't find racism under every rock I pick up. I'm a realist. Often, what is just is. If the shoe fits, etc. You get my drift.
Second, there is a connection to the issue of education, or lack thereof, in the United States. Let's just go ahead and discuss why it is that nationalities, such as Chinese or Indian seem to score far better percentage wise than American students on standardized tests. I would predict we could blog this ssue from now til next year and we wouldn't have agreement. But, let's do it. Why do we not hear about this on the media? I'll answer that: all indications are that mainstream media must at all times appear to be Politically Correct. In other words, don't bring up anything that will appear judgmental or somehow disparaging of any particular race or creed. I won't say religion because religion is fair game at all times.
Third, what does this say about the United States and where we are headed in the not too distant future? Thoughts of this discussion makes me shiver in my house shoes this morning.
Fourth, the exponential growth of communication technology is astounding. The facts speak for themselves, but when you really see it in bold print- you can't look away. It's in your face and you better learn to deal with it.
Watch the Youtube link above and give Queenb-write a shout out. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
It's our day to honor those who have given the ultimate price for our country. When you speak of these fallen heroe's, words like honor, duty, and character are commonly used. I get choked up every time I see the red, white and blue colors furling in the breeze over the backdrop of white crosses on a green manicured cemetery. Each cross represents someone's husband, father, brother, son or daughter. They are not numbers, they are people. People who had dreams of a future. Maybe they wanted to come off the field of war and become a simple farmer, a trucker, a preacher, a doctor, a lawyer. Maybe they had dreams of raising their own sons and daughters in a better world. One thing is certain, they served.
They might not have had strong feelings about the reason for the war itself. They may have been drafted into service. But, they went. They didn't run. Their country called and they answered. For that I honor them. I try to think of them as individuals because it makes it so much more personal. That one man/woman lying in that one grave under that one white cross served his country, lost his life, and now I can live my life in the freedom that the United States of America offers.
My only concern is that we are now living in a time when there is no draft. A segment of the population, for the most part, a lower income segment, that now serves the whole of America. The statistics show that the higher the income, the lower the chance of volunteering for armed service. Where is the sense of duty to our country? The sense of honor? Is it obsolete?
Our country may be lost one day, not in the battlefield, but because of what we failed to teach in our homes and schools. Let me know what you think!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood: contemplative
Some of you may know that I had 5 of my grandchildren this weekend for a while. I think they're great. I love spending time with them. Each one as their own personality and it's fun to see them developing. BUT...there are those moments when I'm wishing I had a bag of tricks. The following is one of those moments:I fed the kids some chicken noodle soup and quite a bit of it ended up on Asher's shirt. He's 2 1/2 years old.
"Nana, I dont want this," he says, pulling the wet shirt front out. So I take him to the bedroom, take the wet shirt off, and slip one of my t-shirts over his head because it's a little chilly.
"No, Nana, this don't fit," he says. (He does not like things to be loose on him.)
I can tell he's not going to keep it on, but say, "It's one of Nana's shirts," thinking this will somehow make the t-shirt more appealing. But he continues to fuss saying it is a girl's shirt and takes the shirt off. Lightbulb moment occurs.
I pull another one of my t-shirts out and slip it over his head saying, "Here, this is one of Papa's shirt."
He walks off very happy wearing my purple nylon gym top.
These are the boys: Nathaniel (the sometimes serious big brother), Asher (the sweetie with blonde curls), Gabriel (the charmer, his blonde curles have been cut)
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood: cheerful
Barbie has had so many different jobs, I'm pretty sure she's the spokeswoman for the National Association of Multiple Personality's. I've had a few different jobs, too, but the one she somehow missed was mother. She had a friend, Midge, and a niece, Skipper, that I remember. She and Ken never married and don't tell me they weren't sharing covers.
Don't you all agree that childless women don't age quite as fast? Barbie is my exhibit #1 in this premise. She still has flawless skin, bright eyes, and beautiful legs with no varicose veins. Of course, who knows about her hair, it was always bleached. Still, I never played with a Barbie in my life and I still can't relate. She may look better than me, but darnit, I've at least lived a little. I didn't pretend to work, I worked. I had those chidren and, yes, I may have a few more wrinkles because of it. Yes, I've had both joy and heartache in the process, but that's called life.
So there, Barbie. I challenge you to grow up, get a life, adopt a child. Get involved with a children's organization; maybe as a foster mother. Do something productive of with your next 50 years!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood: contemplative
My butt is fuming right now. In case you all haven't already suspected , in my past life I was quite the control freak. My job lended itself to filing deadlines and humiliation if you were not on the ball with your stuff. Since I've retired from the legal world, I've let up. BUT, in my little world I've got my girls, my grandkids, my husband who's off working wherever, and my writing. My writing is what I selfishly do when I work everybody else out of the way. Yes, I know that sounds bad, or good, whichever way you happen to come by my acquaintance.
That being said, I had the New South writing contest deadline which is TODAY. I had my grandson Aidan with me this last weekend. I completely take responsiblity for not having the story ready to send off last week. I got off on a tangent with another story my mind wouldn't let go. Okay okay, you can't say anything I'm not saying to myself.
Yesterday, I met with my writing buddy, Wendy...great meeting. Afterward, I go to the post office with my envelope addressed and my story, Crystal Candy, tucked inside. I had the SASE envelope already addressed back to me sticking out of the envelope and asked the postwoman to put return postage on it.. She smiled and did it. Then chitchatted while she obliged me by taping the whole thing. Now nice, I thought. I left feeling so good about myself. Everyone happy, my writing good and on schedule for the most part. Aaahhh...yes, I am in control I'm sure my subconscious was thinking.
NOT. I just got my mail. The postwoman put my story and the envelope addressed to New South in the SASE envelope. My mouth dropped open when I pulled it out of my box. I kicked myself all the way back to the house. Now, I'm blogging rather than outside working. I am so hoping this venting helps me fume away my aggravation!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
crappy
That's most of us, the general folks. Then there are people like Officer Freeman from Chattanooga. The police officer who recently ATTACKED a greeter at a local Walmart for daring to try to stop and check Officer Freemans' receipt. Another officer was with him (why they are shopping at Walmart while they are on duty, as has been established, I don't know...that's another blog) stopped and let the greeter check his receipt. But Officer Freeman thinks he's special.
HOW DARE this old man stop Office Freeman!! He is highly offended and shoves the old man down! A bystander tries to stop the altercation from escalating and gets thrown against the plate glass window which shatters. BUT, Officer Freeman is not arrested.
Shocked are you? Yes, most of the folks around Chattanooga are too. We would have been scrambling to figure out how to get bonded. But now, don't forget, Officer Freeman is special. He's not like us general folks who shop at Walmart.
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
cranky
