(reposted from http://secondwindpub.wordpress.com/2011/07/28/live-out-loud)

Life is too deep for words, so don’t try to describe it, just live it. -C.S. Lewis

Today started out like any other. I was up and at the computer before anyone else in the house had even opened an eye. There was stuff I needed to do, stuff I really should do, stuff I wanted to do, and the other stuff.

I started with the first two categories. Since I am self-employed and work from home, by 6 a.m. I had updated a client’s web site, checked my work e-mail, and started a blog post. I finished off my pot of coffee and showered once I knew I would be able to tell the body soap from the hair conditioner. I even considered taking the dog for a walk before it got too dang hot outside.

That’s when it happened. That’s when things got goofy.

“Psst. Got a minute?” It was a male voice, whispering.

Looking around, I didn’t see anyone. And since the voice lacked a distinct Texas-drawl, I could safely assume my husband wasn’t the owner of voice. The voice being male, I could also safely assume the voice didn’t belong to either of my children, them both being daughters and all.

“Pssst. Over here,” the voice repeated.

“Um, God? Is that you?”

“Yep. Nice of you to remember.”

I grimaced. “What can I do for you?”

“We need to talk.”

Gulp. “We do?”

“Yep.”

“I’m a little busy. Is this going to take along time. I have to have this blog post done today you see. . . .”

“And I have a Universe to see to, so I promise to make it quick.”

Gulp.

“You’re seriously forgetting some things. I know you don’t much care for change, but really, Nichole. You’re taking it a little far.”

“What do you mean I don’t like change? I’ve been considering a new hairstyle.”

“And those boxes in your living room?”

“Oh, those aren’t mine. The kid is going to college next month. But you probably know that, don’t you?”

“Yep. But you aren’t taking it very well.”

“She’s my baby! Do you know what’s like to lose your baby? Oh, yeah, I guess you do.”

“I never said it would be easy.”

“It’s just that, well, she’s going to leave on her adventure. She’s growing up and will be starting a life, an adventure, a journey, all on her own. I want her to be happy and healthy and successful in whatever she decides to do.”

“Yep.”

“I’m so proud of her. And so worried about her.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Tell her?”

“Yep. Tell her.”

“Okay, I promise to tell her just as soon as she wakes up.”

“Good. Now about that shirt.”

“My shirt? It says ‘Live Out Loud.’ I got it when I went to visit my parents.”

“Yep. But are you doing it?”

“Visiting my parents? No, I’m at home. Oh! You mean living out loud. Well, I’m a bit shy you know.”

“There’s plenty of ways to be loud. And plenty of ways to live.”

“Yeah, I suppose there are. . .”

“She knew that.”

“She? Knew? My kiddo is just sleep . . . . Oh, you mean Jolee. Did you have to take her?”

“It was her time. She was tired of fighting.”

“Lung cancer. She didn’t deserve that.”

“You know better?”

“Sorry. But I will miss her. I already miss her. Her celebration of life is this afternoon.”

“I know.”

“God, I’m not sure I can go. I really don’t like funerals.”

“Celebration. Of. Life. It’s BYOB, remember.”

“Yeah, but. . . .”

“Her family should know you love her. Her family should know they aren’t the only ones who will miss her.”

“I suppose. It’s hard, though. I’m about to cry just thinking about it.”

“I know. Jolee understands.”

“Of course she does. She was one of the most understanding people I even met.”

“Learn from her.”

“Excuse me? Learn from her? You took her, remember?”

“Live out loud. Learn from Jolee. What do you admire about her?”

“Her humor. Her ability to laugh at herself. The way she always looked on the bright side of everything.”

“So do it. Honor her by emulating those things you admire in her.”

“I’m not sure I can be as easy going as she was. You just didn’t give me that skill.”

“Work on it. But didn’t you also admire the way she told people how important they were?”

“Well, yes, but I’m not very mushy. I get embarrassed when people thank me in public.”

“Work on it.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts. Do it. Besides, it’s better to give those messages in person rather than have to go through Me.”

“True. I promise I’ll work on it.”

“Good. Start now. Remember those things you thought you needed to accomplish today?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t. Move those to the ‘should do’ list. Every day there needs to be one thing on your ‘must do’ list. Just one.”

“Just one?”

“Just one. Live out loud. Tell people how much they mean to you. Make the world a better place. Laugh. Don’t worry about being embarrassed. Make sure the people you love know that you love them. Live. Out. Loud. The rest is icing on the cake.”

“Live out loud. Got it.”

“And, Nichole?”

“Yes, God?”

“Start now.”

Here is the link to the story the local television station did about the bees. Hobby bee keepers help bees to keep ecosystem functioning - KOTA Territory News

Me

Saturday was a big day around here. In fact, you could say it was all "a buzz." No, really. That was the day the honey bees arrived.

For me, this was a huge deal. I mean, I grew up in the city. Malls, museums, restaurants, the whole nine yards. Not big like, say, New York City or Los Angeles, but a place of more than a quarter of a million people in the city proper. In contrast, were I live now has a population of less than 60,000. And I don't actually live in town.

It's made some of my frugal ways more challenging than you might think. Sure, I don't spend a lot of time walking the mall. With fewer than 50 stores and no other mall for 450 miles, that gets old quickly. On the other hand, there really aren't any "good" second hand stores like you can find in larger populations.

(Hang in there, this really does have something to do with honey bees....)

So, even though I'm a "shop around and get the best price" kinda girl, and I'm pretty "crafty" besides, raising food of any type just wasn't in the life plan. Sewing my own clothes? Yep. Cooking from scratch? Got it. Shopping at the "day old" bread store? Love it. Butchering a cow? Never. Eating deer or wild turkey (the animal, that is, not the drink)? Probably not. Harvesting honey? Forget it.

But life doesn't always work out the way you plan, does it?

Maybe it's where I live. Maybe it's age. Maybe it's Hubby's influence. Who knows. But in the past few years, I've found myself trying to live "off the land" more and more. All those things I swore I'd never do don't seem so "outside the realm of possibility" anymore.

When Hubby and I were discussing this a year or so ago, one of us came up with the idea of getting a hive of honey bees. (I think it was probably my idea and I know I jumped on the idea of keeping our neighbors out of the back field, but that's a long story for another day.) Whoever threw out the idea, we both embraced it. We did some research. We saved our pennies. And now we have a hive.

We've had the actual hive for month or so. After some discussion, we opted to place the thing in our root cellar, which we don't use. We figured the bees would be fairly well protected from the elements down there, as well as being a little warmer in the winter and a little cooler in the summer. Saturday, I got the nook of bees, which is what that cardboard box in front of the hive is.

Inside that nook were four frames covered with bees. I wish I would have thought to get a photo of the approximately 15,000 winged creatures in that box. Oh well, you'll just have to take my word for it. We got the frames transferred into the hive and got the sugar water into the feeder box and there was only one sting. (It was me. About half an inch above my right eye. And that was when I was carrying the nook from the pick up site to the car. It was my first ever sting (as far as I know) so it's refreshing to know I'm not allergic!)

Now we wait. There won't be any honey until fall, of course, and we don't know if we'll have some even then.

In the meantime, our garden has been planted and wild flower seeds have been tossed into the back field. Yes, tossed without rhyme or reason to grow however. Both the garden plants--tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, peppers--and the wild flower patches will hopefully provide the honey bees with enough food as the summer progresses. Of course that means we need to keep deer and other animals from eating the flowers. So we've used the ugly gorilla I wrote about in a post last January as a scarecrow.

Amazingly, it seems to be working.

To go off on a little bit of a tangent, Spring means yard work around here. I don't mind mowing, but it needs to stop raining before any serious mowing can take place. You can't see it so well in the photos, but it was raining lightly as I took each of these.

In this last picture, though, you can see how desperately the grass needs to be mowed. Grass that long will clump in both the push mower and the rider. Wet grass will be even worse. But it needs to be done. I only hope that we don't get much more than some light sprinkles today and I can get some mowing done tomorrow.

Me

My hard drive died. Totally and completely stopped. Wasn't even enough of it left to realize it had died.

And, no. I didn't have a back up. At least not a recent one.

Without the distractions of work and facebook, I was able to do some serious reading (three books in three days!) and some knitting. This sweater/shrug thing was cast on in February and I finished it on Mother's Day.

I'm not a small girl, so I opted for the largest size. Turns out that I didn't need to. The thing is huge! Overall, though, I'm really pleased with it.

Me

It's Mother's Day and I'm a mom.

That probably doesn't surprise anyone, but there you have it.

Not only am I mom, but I really like being one. It's pretty much my favorite job.

On the other hand, I must have been asked two dozen times what I wanted for Mother's Day and I, frankly, had no clue.

My family, though, knows me. Really, really, well.

My Mother's Day actually started last night. There's an ongoing joke in my house that it's Hubby's job to make the coffee each night before bed. The joke is that the Bible commands him to make the coffee with an entire book devoted to He-brews. (For the record, I never claimed it was a good joke.)

So, last night when Hubby made the coffee, he ground the beans of one of my favorite flavors: Highlander Grog. YUM!

Next came the big "Happy Mother's Day! I love you!" at 12:34 when the kid got home from her date. That was really nice.

This morning I was treated to a breakfast of coffee and chocolate cake (made by the kid). Then the two of us watched "Lovely Bones." The kid had already seen it and had read the book. I hadn't done either before this morning. Sitting on the couch watching the movie reminded me of those long-ago Saturday mornings when the two of us would have chocolate milk and donuts for breakfast and be entertained by cartoons or a Disney marathon. I miss those days...

Now weekends are often filled with her work schedule and time with friends.

After the movie, (and before the kid left for work) I got my other gift. I've mentioned before that I recently got a spinning wheel. I've enjoyed my wheel and am getting lots better. The yarn I spin is getting more even and finer every week. I haven't been happy enough with the end product to actually KNIT anything out of the yarn I've spun, but it's getting there.

Anyway, the family clearly paid attention because I got a box with some beautiful fiber in it. The colors are amazing, don't you think? The picture really doesn't do them justice.

So now I'm sitting here, smelling the pot roast in the crock pot, waiting for both my girls to get here.

I am one lucky Momma...

Me

Have you ever felt like a complete and total failure?

I don't mean the "gee, I'm just not good at singing" or the "one of these days I plan to run that marathon" type of failure. Hey, some people have a talent or gift for music and some don't. Some people have knees that would survive pounding the pavement for 26.2 miles and some don't have cartilage behind their kneecaps.

I'm talking about the "I just ran 26 of the 26.2 mile marathon, the race organizers saw me coming and then they shut down the race so that I couldn't finish" type of failure. (For the record, I totally can't see me ever running a marathon, so that particular fail will never happen to me.) This is how I feel about my weight.

For about three years I was pretty faithful to Weight Watchers. And I did well. I lost 50 pounds in the first 10 months. Then nothing. Not a dang thing. Well, that's not actually correct. I did lose a little. Then gain it back. Then lose a little. Then gain it back. You get the idea. And at $40 a month, I just couldn't afford to spend the cash on something that I wasn't seeing any benefit from.

Please understand, I am fully aware that I will never be skinny. And even if my waist was tiny, I'd weigh more than other people because of the size of my chest. Hey, those things weigh a bit ya know. The worst part is that there are no plus-size clothing stores around here. There's a Deb. And a Dress Barn. But nothing else, really. Wal-Mart, K-Mart, Target....

It's not like I spend a lot of money on clothes. I don't even like shopping for clothes that much. Well, I do. But I like shopping for clothes that fit. And that's a hard thing to do.

So I get discouraged. Really discouraged. Could I stand to shed a few pounds? Yep. But I also walk three miles a few times a week. I enjoy my wii fit games. Tex says I'm "unusually strong for a girl." I'm not a complete puff ball. But not finding clothes that fit well and are stylish really gets me down.

Working my tail off and not seeing any progress on the scale is even worse.

I can't be the only person who feels this way. I mean, I'm the only one in my house, but I can't be the only one in the world. Can I?

Me

The current salary for a member of Congress is $174,000 per year. The President of the United States earns (and I use that term loosely) $400,000 per year, plus a $50,000 annual expense account. In contrast a member of the United States military earns between $17,604 and $60,348. (Well, enlisted, that is. A four-star general's pay is equivalent to that of a member of Congress.)

A family of four making $22,350 is on the federal poverty line.

Tomorrow the federal government is scheduled for a shut down. That doesn't mean the military gets to go home. On the contrary. They'll stay where they are. Go to work, fight terrorism, keep our country safe. Firefighters will continue to risk their lives. Police officers will continue to fight crime. They will do it all without a paycheck until Congress can pull their collective heads out of their collective... Well, you get the idea.

The most offensive part of this is who will continue to get paid. Congress. The President. They will continue to receive their paychecks. The people who put their lives on the line. No.

Just thinking about this makes me angry. Beyond angry. I know what it's like to live paycheck to paycheck. My family has a long line of civil service, of putting lives on the line for the greater good of society.

Perhaps we need to re-think the pay Congress receives. In 1789, members of Congress received $6 per day per diem. Adjusting for inflation, that comes to about $151 a day. Last year (2010), the Senate was in session for 158 days. That comes to $23,858 per year. Even if we paid members of Congress for EVERY day of the year, it would be just over $55,000.

Think of the savings! How many members of Congress would be willing to take a pay cut of more than $100,000 per year? My guess is none... Instead, they will continue to look for ways to "balance the budget" without touching whatever effects them. Or the lobbyists who provide the "extras" they receive.

For whatever reason, Congress can't see the importance of those essential personnel who keep chaos at bay. I wonder how many people will be injured—or worse—because the lawmakers are so far removed from reality...

Me

Don't ya hate it when a favorite piece of clothing is ruined? I do.

I think one of the reasons that it bothers me so dang much is because I don't have a closet full of favorite pieces of clothing. This pink top was one of them.

And it's ruined.

Admittedly, the ruining of the top was totally my fault. I tried to cut a string and missed. Instead I sliced a huge hole in the chest. Putting a patch there wouldn't have been a good look for me.

So I've spent the past hour or so trying to find a replacement top. I got the shirt a year or two ago at Torrid (love that store!). Of course, it's completely out of style now, so they don't have anything like it in their stores. Then again, I don't live anywhere near one, so it's not like I can scour their clearance racks. I'm limited to searching their website.

Once I realized I wasn't going to find the shirt of my dreams that easily, I began searching for a pattern for the top. One of my favorite parts of the shirt was the back. It was a lower cut back and showed my tat. Sweet, huh? Anyway, as I was checking out the Simplicity website, I found three great patterns that might work. I need to head to the fabric store to check them out a little closer.

Searching the site, however, reminded me of how much I really miss sewing. Yeah, I know. Another hobby. Hole in head. Whatever.

I like nice clothes. Most people wouldn't know it, since I'm often seen in jeans and t-shirt. But I really do. I do wish I was a little more "fashion suave." I really have no idea about body shapes (I think I'm an oval, but I'm pretty sure that isn't one of the official shapes) or colors or any of that.

Maybe I'll just stick to my jeans and t-shirts....

Me

After my last blog post, I had someone from my "in person life" ask me what I did just for me. I knew she'd read the last post because she made a comment about my hobbies and holes in my head. Pretty much a dead giveaway there.

It seemed like a really strange question since we were at a china painting afternoon. (I hesitate to call it a class, because we're all working on different things and the "instructor" is really just there for assistance. Think of it as a Stitch 'N Bitch for china painting.) If I wasn't doing something for ME, why else would I make the time to be there, right?

Except that wasn't exactly true and I knew it. Deep down, I knew it. Hell, she probably knew it, too.

You see, I have this "thing" where I do stuff out of a twisted sense of duty. I can't possibly stop something. Especially if other people expect me to be there or if I have a responsibility of some kind. Really. I'm completely afraid of letting someone down.

I don't much like confrontation. Don't get me wrong, I'm good at it. Well, maybe "good" isn't exactly the right word, but confrontation certainly doesn't frighten me. And I feel sorry for anyone who messes with my kids or their friends or my friends. Maybe it's my overdeveloped sense of justice, but I'm always willing to help out the underdog and usually that requires a confrontation.

But when it comes to me, I don't go looking for confrontation. I avoid it. Probably explains why one person will never know how much I was hurt by a series of events. Talking about it won't change anyone's actions and what's done is done, so why bother. (Are my feelings still hurt? Yeah. But is it worth an argument with the other person? Nope.)

By the way, I do know how passive-aggressive that sounds and I don't mean it to be. I just like harmony in my life.

It's a strange deal. I can honestly say that I don't much care what most people think about me. There are very few people who's opinions of me matter. And the majority of those people are currently asleep under this same roof. Love me or hate me, that's totally your choice and I leave you to it.

Just one more case where I am a bit contradictory.

I know I need to take more time for me. I need to learn to say "no" to someone besides my teenager when she wants a later curfew. I honestly and truly need to de-stress, to take an afternoon off and remember what it's like to play.

And I plan to. I'll put it on my to-do list and hope I get around to it....

Me

I need another hobby like I need a hole in the head.

Seriously. I have a few holes in my head—one ear pierced twice, one ear pierced three times, my nose pierced. See, I don't need any more holes in my head.

And I have even more hobbies. I knit. I crochet. I read. I make soap. I make candles. I make jewelry. I want to play guitar. I do genealogy. I geocache. I volksmarch. I garden. I enjoy photography. Yeah, I need more freaking hobbies.

It's not like I ONLY do hobbies, either. I have what amounts to two full-time jobs. I am a web designer and a published author. I'm also actively involved in the local writers group, a local business networking organization for women, and three (yes, three) fraternal organizations.

I seriously don't need any more hobbies!!!

BUT, I seem to have two more. I now spin and raise honeybees. Well, in all fairness, the honeybees won't arrive until April, but we've ordered them and the hive and all the jazz that goes with them. It's part of our families commitment to start living off the land more.

So, even if I don't count honeybees as a hobby, I'm now spinning. I mentioned once to hubby that I would like to learn how. I should have known better. There's honestly nothing I've even mentioned I wanted to do or have that (eventually) hubby hasn't gotten for me.

A few months ago, I mentioned to him that I would like to learn to spin. I thought it would be fun. For Christmas, then, he got me a drop spindle and some roving and a gift certificate for the LYS (Local Yarn Shop for those how aren't familiar with the acronym).

So I started with the drop spindle. It was fun and portable and I honestly am not very good at it. Even though I'm not that great with the drop spindle (I haven't even finished the first batch of roving, and I know I'll get better), I was having a great time doing it.

And then came the wheel. It's a Kromski Minstrel and it is beautiful. It's also really easy and even more fun than the drop spindle.

I took it to the spinning group yesterday and the lovely ladies at the LYS helped me get started.

I'm still not done with the first batch of roving on the wheel, but I've made a great start, as you can see. I was even able to spin some last night while I watched television. I don't have any illusions that this first batch of yarn will be perfect for lace socks or anything, but I do think it will be usable for something.

So I've officially added another hobby to my repertoire and I couldn't be happier!

However, I have no plans to add any additional holes in my head.

Me

It started with a gorilla, the need for privacy and cat number 3.

Yeah, that probably doesn't make sense, does it?

Let me explain. A few months ago, the youngest kid was in a rummage sale/thrift shop/garage sale mood. She and a friend were hitting the sales every weekend.

That's where the gorilla came in.

One weekend, the kid came home with a stuffed gorilla. A huge stuffed gorilla. An ugly, huge stuffed gorilla. I mean, this thing is probably three feet tall and fairly realistic looking. Except maybe for the duct tape around the foot.

Being the mom I am, I told her to make sure it got washed before she put it on her bed. And being the mostly-good kid that she is. She did.

Next came the need for privacy. The kid is 17 and a senior in high school. She has a job and does volunteer work. It feels like she's never home! She has a loft bed with a couch underneath and no closet doors, which makes it sometimes look like her closet has vomited into the rest of the room. And she's a bit of a fashionista, so there are clothes and shoes....

So often the door to her room is shut. She's not the kind of kid who freaks out when her dad or I enter the room when she's not home (or even if she is home!), but the door is often shut. Then again, the door doesn't latch really well and is easy pushed open—even if the door is completely closed. Therefore, if the door is shut at 7 a.m., it may be wide open by 10 a.m. and no humans have entered.

And we have cats. Four of them. Yes, I'm aware that crazy people have lots of cats. I still think the cat-to-house ratio should be three. Meaning that at three cats, the people in the house are still sane. At four, they become the "crazy, cat people." That's beside the point.

Anyway, cat number three is somewhere between 8 and 10 years old (I don't remember...must be the crazy, cat woman in me), and was born in our wood pile. The kid was around 8 or 9 the summer hubby paid her $1 for ever stray kitten she could catch. All but one found other homes. One stayed here.

Cat number three has always been tiny. And a bit of a fraidy cat. She very much doesn't like change. So when cat number four was introduced to the mix, cat number three got mad. She took to sleeping in the kid's room, since cat number four wouldn't leave the master bedroom or laundryroom. Of course, that has more to do with dog number three than anything else.

So, cat number three has been sleeping on the kid's bed. The big ugly gorilla has been on the kid's bed. For some reason when the big ugly gorilla showed up, cat number three started pooping on the bed. EWWWWWWWW......

By the time I realized that the cat messes started shortly after the ugly gorilla showed up, this had happened probably five or six times. Now I'm in the process of trying to remove the stink. OK, the kid's room doesn't really stink any more than any other teenage girl's room, but I'm almost positive that the cat can still smell something. And I want that matress disinfected. I considered buying a new one, but she is leaving for college in a few months and I can think of more pressing items to spend our funds on.

Now I'm looking for ways to get the yucky out. I found four "Febreeze-type" recipes at tipnut.com and am looking for comments. Here are the recipes and the URL:

Recipe #1

1 cup fabric softener
1 cup white vinegar
2 cups water

Recipe #2

2 cups water
1 cup fabric softener

Recipe #3

3 cups water
3 TBS fabric softener
3 TBS rubbing alcohol

Recipe #4

2 cups water (warm)
1/4 cup fabric softener
1 TBS baking soda

http://tipnut.com/4-homemade-febreeze-recipes/

Or do you have a better one? I plan to use one today and see if it helps with the kid's room.

Me

Quick note: Check Nichole Bennett's review of Wendy Robert's Dead and Kicking.

I don't do resolutions. No one sticks to them anyway. I do, however, do goals. I have lots of goals. No, really. I have a "you-know-what" load of them. And every December I create ones for the upcoming year.* This year's goals, a little late, are as follows:

• Writing 10,000 words a week. This will finish the current novel and get a solid start on the next. Of course, that doesn't count blog posts, which I also plan to be better at.
• Six new web design clients. This is what allows me to buy all the yarn and books I want.
• Practice a healthy lifestyle. I'm really tired of trying to loose weight, but I do want to be healthy. That means I'll do yoga daily and use my wii for more than just Netflix.
• Homestead my land. Yes, I have land. Yes, I want to do a garden. And hubby likes to hunt. So that's probably going to be among the easiest of my goals.
• Spend time on my hobbies. I want to have a new knit or crocheted or sewn project completed each month. I also want to learn to play the guitar.
• Get serious about my spirituality. My beliefs are eclectic, to say the least. But they are mine and I need to make the time to connect with them.
  

So there you have it. My goals for 2011. Wish me luck!

Me

*Yes, I'm aware of how much that sounds like a resolution. But it's not. Because I said so.

Okay, so I haven't been the most faithful of bloggers. Get over it.

Seriously, though, there was so much going on in my world. And a lot of it frustrated me or just plain pissed me off. I didn't really want this blog to be a bunch of whining, so I skipped.

There's my excuse. Take it or leave it.

But I haven't been a total slacker, either. I did my first felting project. The pattern came from my local yarn shop (LYS), as did the yarn. I think I'm going to do one for the kid to take with her to college next year. It would be a good way to carry shampoo and toothbrush and all the other jazz girls have to take to the bathroom. Or to the laundry room...it would hold a small bottle of laundry soap, fabric softener, and dryer sheets. Oh, and quarters. College kids need quarters for laundry...

Anyway, there's my latest knit project and I plan to be a better blogger in the future.

Me

This has got to be the longest hat I've ever knit.

Okay, so I don't knit a lot of hats—I'm more of a sock girl, to be honest—but I've done a few in my knitting days.

A week or so ago, the kid asked me if I would knit her a hat. "A really, really long hat, Mom." So I looked around and found a pattern.

I did find one in Pints & Purls. The name of the pattern is "Snakebite hat," and is supposed to have "googly eyes" on the hat part to actually look like a snake. Yeah, we aren't doing that part.

The hat will be long enough to also be a scarf. I've only been working on it about two weeks (and that's only when I'm trying to catch up on my television shows) and you can see how long it is. I should have it done in the next week or so.

And then? I'll have to find another project.

Me

I woke up frustrated this morning. Maybe that's because I went to bed frustrated last night.

So, I'm going to completely vent today. Anyone who doesn't wish read it is more than welcome to continue on your day. Be Blessed and I hope you have a wonderful day!

If you're still reading, thanks. I do appreciate it.

I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately. I don't just mean the husband-wife relationship, but relationships with everyone. Maybe all parents have the same thoughts as they watch their high school Seniors fill out college applications. Maybe I just needed to evaluate relationships at this time in my life. Who knows.

I also really enjoy a good debate. Don't get me wrong: I can get as heated and opinionated as the next gal. But sit me down with a person who sees things a little differently, who is well informed and articulate, who can debate in an educated, informed manner and I really enjoy it. I like learning different things.

But people who swear they are right because they say so... not so much.

And that was my day yesterday. I was enjoying the debate until the other person decided to make a personal attack. I'm sure the person will say "oh, that's not what I meant" but I don't believe that. You see, this person truly enjoys the "low blow" style of debate. I knew this going in, and it's my own damn fault that I allowed myself to get sucked into a conversation with this person. Doesn't make the result any easier to swallow, however.

Then there are the people who don't seem to value the relationship as much as I do. You know the ones. They are too busy to call/e-mail/text you. You can try to contact them and they are too busy to return the favor. They're the ones who claim they would do whatever for you, but their actions tell you that you just don't rate in their little corner of the world.

So what am I going to do? I'm not sure. I know I should cut those toxic individuals out of my life. I should ignore them and refuse to give them "power" in my life.

It's not easy. I do care for these people, but I guess I need to cut them out. Or at least wait and see if they choose to make an effort for a relationship with me. I hesitate to do that, however, because of the backlash experience has taught me will ensue. And not just in my home, but in other ways.

Yet I don't think I should be the only one working. I shouldn't have to be insulted or demeaned in order to make others feel better about themselves.

Yes, I'm hurt. I'm really, really, really hurt. And the people who did it—people who should be more tolerant, believe it or not—are too immature and self-centered to understand where I'm coming from. I know my reaction to yesterday's drama is a little "overrated" for that one incident. But this isn't the first time that I've been the bad guy in this relationship. I shouldn't have to be. All parties involved should be mature enough to have a reasonable debate. And yet....

So, I guess I will need to purge the toxic people from my life. I'm not sure I can actually start with the ones who were the source of yesterday's frustration, but there are other, less toxic ones I can delete from my corner of the world.

I don't wish anyone ill. I hope they have wonderful lives and find happiness in all they do. I just don't want to be the victim of their attacks any longer....

Me

Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement. As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it.

When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, "Things aren't always what they seem."

The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night's rest.

When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field.

The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel, "How could you have let this happen? The first man had everything, yet you helped him. The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die."

"Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied. "When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it."

"Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem."

Sometimes that is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should. If you have faith, you need to trust that the outcome has a purpose. You just might not know it until some time later...

I'm not a superstitious person. I've never done the whole "lucky T-shirt" thing or understood why a person would want to knock on wood hoping something happens.

I don't take a lot of stupid chances, though, either. I won't walk under a ladder—something could fall on my head. I don't care if a black cat crosses my path, I'm just on the lookout for it's friends or whatever is chasing it.

This week, however, hasn't been a good one. My kid was rear-ended on her way to school. The accident actually involved four cars and she was pushed into the car in front of her. Sandwiched between car one and three. It looks like her small truck will probably be totaled. That was our most reliable vehicle, too. Then my nephew spilled hot cocoa on himself and ended up with second-degree burns. As my mother said "This week has not been good to my grandchildren. I do not approve."

If I were superstitious, I'd be wondering what the next family tragedy will be. These things come in threes, don't they?

Or do they? You can make numbers say whatever you want them to. That's the fun of statistics.

Rather than wait for the third shoe to drop, however, I have a better plan. (Or at least a "better for my own peace of mind" plan.) I'm going to figure out what the lesson is. I know that the Divine Creator of the Universe will not give a person more than he or she can handle. Is that a tough thing to remember? DUH! Even Mother Teresa had trouble with that: "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." And trust me, I'm no Mother Teresa.

But there must be a lesson. There must be a blessing within these accidents. I can't believe that there isn't. For my kid, the blessing is that she wasn't badly injured. She was truly in the wrong place at the wrong time and nothing she did or didn't do could have prevented this. Yet if she hadn't been there, a very large pickup (previously referred to as car number 3) could just as easily hit the small hatchback which was stopped (previously referred to as car number 1). And there was a preschool girl in the back of that car. She wasn't injured....but could have been. Maybe my kid was in that place at that time to "bumper" that little girl. Who knows.

Maybe the blessing with my nephew is that he wasn't burned more than he was. Maybe it is that my sister is a bit of a hippy and he was wearing natural fibers that didn't scar his skin. Maybe the angels had to pick between a "small" burn on him or something much more serious. Who knows.

I don't. I just know that there has to be a reason....a lesson. There must be something good to come of these events, even if we lowly mortals can't find it or grasp onto it.

It's what I believe with every fiber of my being.

Me

Ever notice that the Universe has a way of kicking ya in the a$$--even when you don't want it?

I wrote that blog post about how I planned to get healthy, right? Well, now I have to. Turns out my cholesterol is high and I'm borderline diabetic. Sucks.

I think the worst part was that the doc said "oh, and you really need to loose at least 20 pounds." WTF???? Seriously??? You've got to be kidding me!

See, I've already lost 50. Like 2 years ago. And, try as I might, I can't get any more weight off my body. For more than two years I followed the Weight Watchers plan RELIGIOUSLY and I'd loose a pound, gain two, loose two, gain one... See a pattern??? And at $40 a month, in this economy, I couldn't afford it anymore.

Plus, I don't think I'm all that attractive. I mean, my kid thinks I am, and my parents do, and hubby, of course, but I don't see it. So my personal body image self-esteem is low. Like sucky. A negative number on the famous one-to-ten scale.

I think the most crappy thing about the weight is that I was just starting to be okay with how I looked. Now that's been shot out the window because I've been told (however well meaning) that what I've done isn't enough... I have failed.

I'm trying every hard to get over my mental block on this issue. I plan to try and ignore the "if you eat that, you'll be even fatter and uglier" voice that wants to mess with me. I think that means telling the nutritionist the doc had me call that it isn't going to work at this time. I need to like me... I want to like me. I can't seem to do that when I'm reminded of my failures...

Anyway, if you've read this far and have some advice on getting healthy, feel free to share.

Me

I'm not going to be posting everyday, so don't think I will. But today... well, today I will post.

I'm trying to be healthy. I've kinda given up on the idea of being "skinny." But I think I can do healthy.

As part of that mission, I have a few goals:

1. Find 5 geocaches a month. I like to geocache. It serves a few different purposes for me. First, it gets me off my lazy butt. Second, as a mystery author, I've found some great places to put a dead body because of the wanderings I've had geocaching. Don't know what geocaching is? Think of it as using multi-million dollar satellites to find cheap Tupperware in the woods. For a less smart-assed explanation, go to www.geocaching.com
2. Do six volksmarches a year. This is kinda like the geocaching thing, only volksmarches are longer. We're talking 5- or 10-K each.
   
3. Exercise every day. Let me be honest. I seriously hate to exercise. I can think of close to a million other things I'd rather be doing. But I do it. When the weather is nice, I walk to the stop sign and back. Hey, that's a lot further than it sounds... 1.2 miles each way. The joys of living in the country... I am hoping to get a wii soon to help me exercise during the cold, rainy, nasty weather.
   
4. Eat healthy. That means skipping the Whopper with Cheese and going for the Junior Whopper instead. And trying to eat lots of colors. I decided (with the help of Weight Watchers, which I'm no longer doing) that eating colors is good. Red, orange, yellow, green... Just not if the food is also fuzzy.

I've also been reading a great book, "Size Sexy," which is designed to remind women that they can be beautiful and not be a size 2.

So, I've changed my mindset from "get skinny" to "get healthy," which I think it a better plan all the way around.

Me