Killing time with true crime

What do you listen to?  What's your jam when you're driving down the road all alone?

Me?  Podcasts.

And that's weird because I'm not a fan of talk radio.  Or maybe I'm just not a fan of sports or political talk radio.  Turns out I am a fan of true crime podcasts.

Go figure.

But, podcasts are what I play when I go to the gym (which is also not my favorite).  They're what I do when I'm sitting at my computer checking emails and scrolling through Facebook.  They're what I listen to when I'm driving or washing dishes.

So here are my "go to" podcasts (in no particular order).

• True Crime Garage:  Nic and the Captain cover a crime and a beer.  I appreciate the guys' insight.  I also like the fact that they stick to the crime and there isn't as much off topic chatter as some other podcasts have.
• Cold Case Files:  If this name sounds familiar, you are right.  This is the A&E show, but as a podcast.  It's a QUICK listen if you don't have a lot of time and want to get an entire episode in.
• And That's Why We Drink: This one combines two of my passions -- true crime and ghosts.  Seriously.  What could be better?  Em and Christine start each episode with a ghost story, and end with a true crime one.
• Wine and Crime: Three friends who drink wine, chat true crime, and unleash their worst Minnesota accents.  What more do you need?  
• Casefile: I LOVE listening to Casefile.  And it's not just because the anonymous host is from Australia -- but that accent sure helps!  I also like that this isn't a US based podcast.  It covers some cases I may not have heard of otherwise.
• The Murder Squad: What do you get when you combine the detective from the Golden State Killer case, the reporter from the bodies in the barrel, and a slew of armchair detectives?  You get the Murder Squad.  Paul Holes and Billy Jensen cover a case that either could have more victims or is still unsolved and ask listeners to be on the lookout.

There are more.  Lots more.  There's Spa Girls (self-publishing) and History Chicks and Craftlit and Writer's Detective Bureau and ....  well, I could keep going. 

But I'm always looking for something new.  

What about you?  What are you listening to?  Drop your suggestions in the comments!

JenBin

Jen on a Journey

Ready?  Set...  Go!

That's how I'm feeling lately.  Ready to go.   And I'm going to use this blog that I keep pushing aside as a means to find myself in the midst of the chaos.

From empty nesting to a change of careers to the need to loose a few pounds, this is my journey.  You're invited to come along for the ride.

Jen

Lessons learned... but what to do with the knowledge?

I learned something last week.

Okay, maybe I didn't actually learn it, but I was reminded of it.

I learned this:  I learned that strong women are the ones who lift each other up and not tear each other down.

I knew that.  I think I just needed to be reminded.    Now for the part that I am pretty sure I learned: Not all women want to be strong.  Not all women want to lift each other up.  Some don't even get it.

Maybe I knew that, too, but it didn't really sink in until this week.  It's not a mentality that I can understand.  Especially for adult women who volunteer to work with kids.

I guess I get the concept of "looking out for number one."  I don't believe in it, but I can understand the mentality behind it.

But to be so insecure in yourself that you allow your child to scream at an adult?  I don't understand that.  To be so full of self-doubt that you're willing to be treated awfully by that same child and not understand when someone else is defending you?  For that I am so sorry.  To be so focused on your goals that you would allow slander?  That's something you'll have to answer for in the future... maybe not on Earth, but someday.

Maybe I'm just an "odd duck," but I don't much care what you think of me.  Of the billions of people in this world, there are a handful who's opinions truly matter to me.  Women who are full of evil, full of self-righteous indignation, full of...well crap, their opinions aren't among them.

I know that's not the case for everyone.  And it wasn't always the case for me.  There was a time that people's opinions mattered.  A lot.

Women who are in leadership positions within girls' organizations who aren't strong women shouldn't be in those positions.  They are the ones who can't see the "diamond in the rough."  They can't see beyond the stubborn to find the determined.  They can't see beyond the different to find the unique.  I feel sorry for them and their narrow world view.

Would I and will I defend those not-strong women placed in leadership positions again?  Yes.  Because I am a strong woman.  Should I learn to kiss a little more ass to keep those women out of positions where they are actually hurting an organization I love?  Probably.  But I won't.  I've never been very good at kissing ass and I don't think it's a life skill I want to spend much time learning now.  Will I step away from an organization I love because of these evil women?  I don't know.  I'm thinking about it.  Very seriously.  But then I think of the other "odd duck" girls who are still learning and wonder where their strong woman role-model will be if I do.

The one thing I do know...no matter what, I'm not changing my values to make a spoiled child happy. No matter who's in charge...

Me

In my spare time....

I don't have a lot of "spare time."  Or maybe I do and I just fill it so full that I don't think I do.

I work a part time job out of the house.  It's only a few hours a day.  It's just that those particular hours aren't the nicest for having to work.  I'm there by 5 a.m. and done around 7:30 most days.  That leaves the rest of the day.

I have what amounts to two full-time jobs at home.  I'm a web designer and an author.  Both can take up 40 hours a week.  Well, the writing takes more time, but the web designer pays (slightly) better.  Either way, they keep me busy.

But I have hobbies.  I raise bees.  I knit.  I spin.  I sew.  I embroider.  I read.  I bake.

I am an active member of organizations.  That takes time for meetings and time for other duties that I end up volunteering for.

I don't seem to have time for exercise.  Mostly because I don't like it.  I used to walk three miles everyday, but that seems harder to fit in with this part-time job.  I want to.  I just don't make that time.  Even though I know I should.

So that's how I spend my spare time.  You?

Me

Dear Congress,

I got a little fired up this morning and sent this to South Dakota's Congressional delegation.  Will it do any good?  Probably not.  Made me feel better, though.

As most Americans, I am concerned about the current government shutdown. World War II vets were barred from visiting their own memorial. Park Rangers are preventing people from stopping on Highway 16 to take pictures of Mount Rushmore. And now CBS is reporting that disabled vets may not get their pay if this nonsense continues though late October.

This is disgraceful!

My husband proudly served his country in the United States Air Force. He is a 100% Disabled American Vet (DAV) and his income is the majority of our finances. We struggle to live within our means. And now he may not get paid?

I understand the position that members of Congress are in. The ACA is unacceptable and hurts Americans -- especially the working poor and middle class. 

But this shutdown is going to cause more problems. Not paying furloughed employees. Not paying Survivor’s Benefits to families who have paid the ultimate sacrifice. Not paying disabled vets. I have trouble believing that those are principles that would make our Founding Father’s proud.

If Congress can’t come to some type of agreement, would you be willing to halt your own pay until an agreement is reached? If this was affecting your pocketbook, the pocketbook of the rest of Congress, the President and Vice-President, not only would you have earned additional respect, but it would tell me, the rest of South Dakota, and the citizens of this Country that you care. 

Truly, my husband’s annual VA payment pales in comparison to the $174,000 annual salary of a “rank and file” member of the Legislative Branch of our government (http://usgovinfo.about.com/od/governmentjobs/a/Annual-Salaries-Of-Top-Us-Government-Officials.htm). 

Please don’t misunderstand me. I am a proud Republican, but that isn’t going to put food on our table or pay our bills come November 1. Tell the people you were elected to serve that you understand their plight and are willing to sacrifice as well.

Maybe if enough members of Congress do that, some kind of agreement will be reached.

Thank you for your time.

Me

Why I didn't blog over the weekend

I had every intention of blogging on Friday.  And Saturday.  And Sunday.  And even on Monday.

However, Mother Nature and Jack Frost combined to thwart my plans.  However, I'm not calling defeat.  It's not my fault that we were slammed with snow.  No, really.  We were.

I'm not talking about a few inches, and some wind.  No.  We had 21.5 inches.

I'll let that sink in for a moment.

Almost two feet of snow, not counting wind.

That would be a Jeep Cherokee and a Chevy Silverado under snow pile one and two respectfully.

As if the snow wasn't bad enough, there were massive power outages.  Poles were snapped.  Last I heard, there were at least 1,300 poles broken like the one up the road from my house.  We're lucky.  Our power is back on.  (It was out from about 3 p.m. Friday until about noon on Monday.)

That's a lot of food that went bad.  48,000 people were without power at some point.  That's a lot of spoiled milk.  South Dakotans lost a lot of cattle.  Some estimates are at least 5% of the state's entire cattle were killed in the storm.  Not going to be good for beef prices.

So now you know why I didn't blog over the weekend.  Clearly, the Universe had other plans.

Me

Short post today....

Blogging day 3 and it's still hard.

Only this time it's hard because of the day I've had.

Worked this morning, and then friends who'd been visiting were heading back home so we had a "send off breakfast."  Then I came home and did some various housework and web design work.

That's when I heard the snarling and yelp coming from the two "big boys" (a 9 year old yellow lab and a 10 month old rottweiler).  That required a trip to the vet for the rottie.

Then a meeting tonight that went long.

All the while keeping an eye on the weather, which is supposed to get yucky.  Let's hope it either doesn't get as bad as they predict or it doesn't hit until after I get home from work and picking up the puppy at the vet.

Yeah...  one of those days...

Me

It's not the music that bugs me....

Blogging day 2 shouldn’t be this hard.  But it is.

Today’s prompt was something about what song annoyed you every time it came on.  I don’t have one.  Well, I probably do.  I just can’t think of it.  If I can’t think of it, I can’t write it.

Instead, I’ll write (complain!) about something I heard on the radio this morning.  The morning DJ’s were talking about the government shutdown, which is a whole other post.  What bothered me about it was the following comment:

“This is about ObamaCare.  That’s a law.  Get over it.”

Excuse me?  You know, it was a LAW that women couldn’t vote.  It was a LAW that alcohol was illegal.  It was a LAW that 55 miles per hour was the fastest you could drive.

How many of those are still national laws?  Um, none.  Zero.  Zip.

In South Dakota, the following are still laws:

• No horses are allowed into Fountain Inn unless they are wearing pants.
• It is illegal to lie down and fall asleep in a cheese factory.
• Movies that show police officers being struck, beaten, or treated in an offensive manner are forbidden.

Oh, and I’m sure they’re consistently enforced, right?  

There’s also a debt-ceiling law which seems to get changed on the whim of the idiots in Washington, D.C.  

Do I think a government shutdown is the right answer?  No.  But a revolt is probably not the “right answer” either.  

Yes, ObamaCare is a law.  No, I don’t like it.  Yes, it’s costing the average working person much more than they anticipated.  Yes, it’s going to cost jobs.

But to say “That’s the law.  Get over it.”  I’m sorry, but that’s shortsighted and one of the biggest problems in the United States right now.

So, Mr. DJ, pull your head out of the sand.  Look at the state of the country, the state of the world.  There are many things wrong, and being complacent isn’t going to help.  Frankly, it’s what got us into this mess to start with.

Me

Blogging? Every day? For a month?

Sure, why not.

Okay, so I'm a lousy blogger.  Mostly because I don't think I'm all that interesting.  But I'm going to give NaBloWriMo a try.  That would be National Bloggers Writers Month, for those of you who don't know.

Maybe with some prompts I'll be more consistent.  Maybe since I can share across two blogs I have a chance at success.  (Hey, no where in the rules did it say you had to write on one blog for the whole month!)

I like to blog.  Truly, I do.  I just hate the idea of writing a post that I think rocks and have no one read it.  So I guess the reason I'm participating in NaBloWriMo is to get over that.

Plus, it's probably good practice for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writers Month), which comes up in November.  At least, I hope so.

So here we go...  My first blog post for the month which is really me just telling you I'll be blogging this month.

Hey, it's a start!

Me

The Mystery of Jabez

In 2000, Bruce Wilkinson's book "The Prayer of Jabez: Breaking Through to the Blessed Life" was published.  The book was based on the Biblical passage 1 Chronicles 4, versus 9 and 10.   

Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, "I gave birth to him in pain." Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, saying, "Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain." And God granted his request. (NIV)

The book was a bestseller and the author encouraged Christians to pray the prayer daily.

The name Jabez means "pain."  Interesting.

In my genealogy research, I've found a Jabez.  And he's causing me some kinda pain. 

Jabez Tuey is my 3rd great grandfather.  His father is Isaac Knowlton Tuey.  And the line begins there.  I can't find any information on Issac's parents or Jabez's mother. 

Jabez was born October 22, 1822, in Malahyde, Elgin, Ontario, Canada.  In 1849, he married Matilda Kazire Smith.  By 1861, he'd immigrated to Minnesota where, in 1865, he enlisted in the 1st Minnesota Volunteer Infantry Regiment.  (Although, here they have his birth year as 1824.)  He was still living in Minnesota in 1880.  He died in Tabor, Iowa, in 1900 and is buried there. 

Jabez had a number of children; 10, I think.  His son William married "the farmer's daughter" (Emily Alice McDaniel).  Their only child was a daughter named Jennie May, who I'm named after.  Jennie May's daughter was my maternal grandmother. 

So I know a bit about the line from Jabez to me.  But what about the line on the other side of Jabez?  It seems to be nonexistent.  It seems Jabez had a brother, James born in 1825.  But that sums up what I know.

I've looked at some of the "Tuey" boards on ancestry and discovered that no one seems to find anything before Isaac.  More than one person claimed their family "legends" included the story that Isaac changed his name to that of the women he married (an "Unknown Tuey").  I've tried just looking for Isaac Knowlton and that hasn't garnered any results either.  Where did Isaac come from?  HOW did he spell Isaac?  Is a spelling error why I can't find anything?  I don't know.

Another oft-repeated story is that  a baby was left on the doorstep of its father, Isaac.  Is this Jabez?  Is that why the mother is never listed?  Did the mother die in childbirth?  Not an unusual thing in the 1820s.  And it would be the ultimate in "birth in pain."  But then how does one explain James?  (Who, by the way, also has no mother listed.)

My grandmother is gone now, so I can't pick her brain about the mystery of Jabez.  I'm not sure she would know anything more than I've found, but I do regret never asking her.  My mother mentioned once that she heard Grandma say the "Prayer of Jabez" was tied to her family, so I think Grandma at least knew a rumor of some kind.  I wonder if she would have shared.


I guess that's another mystery that can't be solved.

A few thoughts on MLK Day and the Inauguration

I make no secret of the fact that I'm a Republican.  I disagree with much of President Obama's basic politics and I didn't vote for him in either election.  However, I listened to a lot of commentary on the Inauguration Ceremonies today.  It amazed me how many commentators made such a big deal that the public ceremonies fell on the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday.

The "I Have A Dream" speech is amazing.  Dr. King was an amazing man.  (Years ago, I actually had the opportunity to talk with a man who knew Dr. King and was in a jail cell with the civil rights leader.) 

But so many people on television today made a point to mention that Dr. King would be proud that an African-American is holding the highest office in our land. 

I disagree.

The way I understand Dr. King's speech, he wanted people judged on their ability, their character, their achievements.  I don't believe he'd be happy with the correlations made today because society is still making a big deal about the amount of pigment in President Obama's skin. 

Until we lose those hyphens (African, Italian, German) and just see people as American, we haven't realized Dr. King's dream.

Lose the hyphens, America.  Judge people by the quality of their character and not the quantity of their skin's pigmentation.  Only then will we have achieved Dr. King's dream.

A strange thing happened on the way to the computer....

I am not a morning person.  Not even a little.  Often only time and vast amounts of coffee can make me human.  My normal morning routine involves getting up, stumbling to the kitchen for that first cup, and heading to the computer for mindless activity while my brain realizes I have tricked it into starting the day -- again.  It takes close to two hours for me to consider such craziness as showering and getting dressed.  Yes, I know it's a good thing I'm self-employed and work from home.  Believe me.

So imagine my surprise this morning when, as I was sitting at the computer, I had the idea—nay, desire—to go running.

Exercise isn't my thing.  And I'm frankly not built for it.  Even at my thinnest ever I had to shop the "larger sizes" for tops.  Add in the fact I'm cheap (an a lifetime of being not-wealthy has reinforced that), and I exercise has the potential to be painful.  Not only that, but I have bad knees and have had them since a freak gymnastics accident in middle school.  Another reason I don't like exercise.

Besides, why exercise when there are so many good books out there to read and patterns to knit?

However, I also believe that the Universe talks to us in some interesting ways—that friend who calls when you need to talk, the still small voice that gives you an idea, the radio commercial you keep hearing over and over. 

When I kept hearing about the "Couch to 5K" program and people started telling me about their running, I knew the Universe was trying to get my attention.  Who am I to argue with the Universe?

I spent big bucks to buy a big (and supportive!) bra and picked a date (May 28, 2012) to start the C25K program.  I even put the app on my iPhone.  I was ready for Monday....

Until this morning.  As I sat at my computer I wanted to go run.  Even though it was cold out.  Even though it was raining.  I wanted to do it.

So I did.  I consider this morning my "trial" for the C25K.  I did my running in my back field (huge mistake, I think, considering the mud and grass and rain and yuckiness) and was miserable.  But I did it.  And I'll do it again.  I will finish the C25k program.
 

Discovering some new shades of me

I've learned some things in the last four or five months.  Things that are life changing and damn important.

The biggest one was that I learned it's okay to be more than Mom.  Don't miss understand: Mom is still my favorite job and best title.  I like being the mom so much, I've chosen to stay involved with a youth organization my daughter was part of just to be available for some of the young ladies who need a mom-figure.  (A good friend of mine who is also involved with the group says I'm the "misfit mom" -- caring for the girls who don't fit the mold and making them feel appreciated and special.  I can live with that!)

Now that my baby is on her own, however, I don't find myself being the Mom 24-7.  Our oldest has never been a "check in often" kinda kid with us (she does the check-in with her mom more than her dad, so we occasionally check the hair salon where she's the "bulldog" just to tell her we love her).  The youngest, though is more...I dunno, connected. And she remains that way.  I find that she connects a few times a week--a phone call one day, a facebook message another. 

But that doesn't fill the mom role all the time.  That hole has caused me to re-evaluate myself and my goals and my life.  And that's been a wild ride, let me tell ya.

First, I've embraced my hobbies even more.  More knitting.  More painting.  More sewing.  More writing. 

And I've added a few new interests.  I've taken up archery.  I have every intention of starting the "Couch to 5K" program on Monday.  In fact, I'm going to use the weekend to buy a sports bra (I don't relish the idea of "The Girls" being unsupported!) and even try the first few days of the program just to see what it's like before starting for real.  I also have every intention of riding my bike the 4.88 mile "circuit" near my house before the end of the summer.  Not a small feat considering the size of the hills.

I'm being more social, less "in my head" as another friend often put it.  I've made a point of lunching with friends.  I've had long, detailed conversations with hubby.  If it stops raining this weekend, I plan to go geocaching and take my camera along for some awesome pictures of the Black Hills.

Change is hard.  Changing because you want to can sometimes be damn near impossible.  Being forced to change sucks rocks.  However, sometimes its the best thing for everyone.  I'm glad I've had the chance to be the full-time, stay-at-home, home educating mom I was.  And now I'm learning to be glad for the chance to explore other Shades of Me.

Here's the journey.....



 

I really don't like elephants. I don't mean the multi-ton animals with amazing dexterity in their noses. I don't even mean statues or figurines that represent those amazing beasts. Those elephants I like.

The elephants I've grown to hate are the ones that hang out in the middle of the room. They don't munch on peanuts, instead they feast on hurt and anger and disappointment and fear. They don't roam the jungles, they stomp on the feelings—and insides—of people. These elephants don't seem to be anywhere near the endangered species lists, either. Instead, they seem to be multiplying at a tremendous rate.

Part of these elephants' tremendous growth rate is my fault. I admit it. I over-think things and after awhile those things get infected and fester. And when two people I love both bring me elephants, I end up in constant pain.

Elephant A was smuggled in on a lie and "righteous indignation." I didn't even realize there was an elephant until it stomped on my chest. In fact, I defended the lack of an elephant over and over until the truth was screamed from the rooftops.

Elephant B has been growing off and on for a long time. Like a tree that tells it's age by the growth rings, this elephant is a product of years of major and minor indiscretions that are rehashed over and over.

Neither elephant wants to leave. Neither one wants to have a real conversation that would shrink or remove their presence. Instead Elephant A wants to be left alone, to pretend it doesn't exist. Elephant B wants to talk, but only about how great it is to be Elephant B and how I should have known all about Elephant A. Contrary opinions aren't tolerated anywhere near Elephant B. In fact, contrary opinions are met with personal attacks and screaming.

Obviously, the "owners" of these elephants refuse to communicate. One wants to maintain the belief that the elephant doesn't exist; the other wants to cast blame for insults both real and imagined. Either way, I'm left feeling betrayed and alone. My thoughts are mine and not accepted or appreciated by either elephant owner. Instead, I keep quiet. Thinking. Wondering why my "anti-elephant-ness" isn't important to these owners, to these people who I love.

These dueling elephants break my heart. I spend the quiet mornings in tears wondering how I can evict these beasts from my life. Silent evenings are spent questioning why my feelings and opinions are so worthless and unimportant. The hours between are filled with false bravado and the belief that without me around, the elephants would disappear. I know that isn't true, but it would be nice to run away and leave these elephants behind. It would be nice to have my sanity back, to have my opinions appreciated (even if the elephant owners disagree, which is fine!), to not be responsible for the elephants other people have dumped into my life.

I'm not sure how this is going to end. Maybe it won't. Maybe I'll find a way to stop noticing these giant beasts in my world. Maybe one or both of the elephant owners will be willing to see another side. Maybe the elephants will continue to grow and I'll be forced out of these relationships as the elephants continue to take over. Maybe tomorrow the tears won't come and that will be one step closer to banishing these hateful beasts.

I hope so....

My sister and I are just three years apart in age, but we're decades apart in life. My baby is a college freshman and her's is just learning to walk. We're also each starting a challenge tomorrow--challenges that are on polar opposites.

My sis, I'll call her "Styx," is going to spend the next month not eating out. I'm not sure how strict she's planning to be about it. No coffee at the local coffee shop? Or just no lunch hour rush to the drive thru? Either way, I know she's going to succeed in her goal. Styx already knows how to use a crock pot and I'm positive that it will get a lot of use in the next 30 days.

My family will be at the opposite end, however. Tomorrow, I start NaNoWriMo. Again. In my home, that becomes "Don't bother Mom until she hits her day's word count. Or else. No. Really." (NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, is a time for crazy people to write 50,000 words in a month. Yes, 1,667 words every day for 30 days, even with Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and Cyber Monday.)

For the next 30 days, my hubby will be scrounging the kitchen wondering if his wife will ever cook again. Experience tells me my meals will either be very messy or take out because those are the meals hubby "makes" best. I shudder to think of the dishes that will await my writing breaks. We won't contemplate what the laundry might look like on December 1.

I know Styx will make it. She will be a cookin' fool in the month of November and will probably find some amazingly yummy recipes in the process. Heck, I plan to post a few here as a show of support. I hope I, too, make my goal of 50,000 words. This will be a new series and I'm excited about the idea. I'm really hoping that NaNoWriMo will get me back in the writing groove. That's the goal, anyway!

I'm gearing up for National Novel Writing Month. Check out the post I did as my alter-ego, Nichole R. Bennett.

http://secondwindpub.wordpress.com/2011/10/28/of-chocolate-pie-and-novel-writing/

Trust me when I say that growing pains aren't just for kids anymore. Parents have them, too.

It's hard to watch your little one spread her wings. I want her to fly, but I don't want to see her fall. I think watching her climb trees and run up the slide were easier than seeing her struggle in search of her future.

As this happens, I'm trying to find my place. When the kid was very young, my ex threatened to kidnap her. I know now that it was a scare tactic and he had no intention of doing that (it would have seriously cut into "his" time to care for a little one). At the time, however, the threat was enough to keep me vigilant, to make sure I watched my little one. My vigilance wasn't always toward her. I mean, I never worried about bumps and bruises acquired through being a kid. What was happening around her, who was in the shadows, those were the things I tried to be extra cautious about.

She doesn't need me for that any longer. Now a legal adult, she is supposed to watch those shadows for herself. Do I think she can do it? Probably. Does it still scare the bejezus outta me? Definitely.

But I'm trying. I'm trying to let her do her thing. But it's not easy. I remember the days when Mom's opinion was the most important. Now it's not. To be honest, that's a bit of a blow to the ego. To go from adviser to "butt out-ski" almost overnight. My biggest problem, I think, is that I like being the mom. I've always looked upon that as being my best job, the one that brought me the most satisfaction. And yes, I'm still the mom. I know that. But it's a different relationship now. One I'm trying to get a handle on and feeling like I'm failing miserably.

Don't get me wrong! I haven't spent the last two decades sitting in a rocker telling my kid what to do and not doing a thing for me. (Sorry, really lame Psycho reference.) I have other interests, other commitments, other adventures that don't depend on "mom-ness" but they were never my first priority. Now I'm trying to move them up. I'm focusing on my crafts: writing, knitting, spinning, sewing, painting. I'm making time for my organizations—specifically Eastern Star, Daughters of the Nile, and my local writers group. I'm scheduling activities for me: china painting, knit night, spin-in.

Most importantly, I'm communicating with hubby. As hard as this empty nest/growing pain thing is for me, I know it's hard on him, too. He "picked" this little girl to be his. He married a woman with a child, taking on that responsibility. He adopted her and became the dad when he didn't have to. As a married couple, we've never known a time when there wasn't a child around. I know we're both struggling.

As I grow into this new role, I can only hope I'm doing it right. Like the rest of parenting, there's no handbook for this, either. I will make some mistakes. Hubby will make some mistakes. I pray none of them are permanent ones or unfix-able ones. And that the kid will cut us a little slack as all three of us try to navigate this uncharted territory.

Anyone with suggestions, bring 'em on. It's nice to know that I'm not alone.

Me

Weather in the Black Hills has been demented. Yesterday it was about 70 degrees Fahrenheit. The day before it was above 95. Today's forecast is for the upper 80s. And it's been like that most of the summer.

For the most part, that's not a problem. Except for when I want to be outside. Call me a wimpy, but I have no desire to go for a three-mile walk or bike ride (I don't run/jog) in either pouring rain or scorching heat. I'm just not that dedicated. I have, however, been moving more. Not moving like to a new house. Moving like off my butt and on my feet.

For those of you who like to sweat, that probably sounds lazy. I don't like to sweat. I don't like to exercise for no reason. Yeah, I know being healthy is a reason. Just not one that honestly appeals to me. I would much rather be reading a book or knitting socks than walking to the closest stop sign. (I live in a more rural area. The walk to and from the stop sign is my 3 mile round trip.)

My other exercising problem is that I'm a naturally frugal person. I could join a gym and then be guilt-ed into working out, but I don't want to spend that money. Especially since my hubby is retired from the military and we live fairly close to an Air Force base. I could use the base gym for much less than a gym membership downtown or a membership to the local Y. But, then there's that little problem of gas. Do I want to drive all the way to the base just to work out. By myself. When I could just as easily walk to the stop sign and back.

And now we're back to the weather. Full circle.

So I bribe myself. I already mentioned that I'd rather be reading a book or knitting than exercising. Thankfully, there is a fantastic podcast that combines both: CraftLit. Heather, the host, is amazing. She finds some great readers on Librivox and adds her own insight as a former English teacher. I download a few episodes on my iPod and Heather and I make that walk. Every once in awhile, she talks about her vacations to Deadwood, South Dakota, (a mere 40 miles from me) and I'm tempted to drop her an e-mail. Then I remember I'm very behind on the podcast since I didn't hear about it for the longest time and her life has probably changed since the piece I'm listening to. Seriously, I'm on episode 53 and, according to her website, she's recorded number 230-something. Yep, I'm a little behind. And I only listen to CraftLit when I'm exercising outside. So on those pouring rain days, I'm not listening. Neither do I listen on those scorching hot ones.

When I need to "get my move on" those days, I use the Wii. I have a few different Wii games designed for fitness: Wii fit, Yoga and Pilates U, Walk It Out, Zumba. I'm pretty good about doing something at least three days a week. I may not always like it, but I do it.

I'm not sure if it's the "I'd rather be reading" part or the "frugal" part, but even three days a week is a challenge.

Is that just me? Or have I just not found the exercise for me yet? You'd think after 40 years, I would have found something that fits in, but not yet. I'm open to suggestions...

Me

I've been crafting. A lot.

I have an afghan almost finished and I sewed three tops and a skirt earlier this month. I love to create.

Too bad I'm not writing as much as I should!

Me

I miss my baby. But I'm really disappointed in her, too.

I had the dubious honor of taking my little girl to college this past week. She's only a few hours away, but she's homesick. Or, rather, she doesn't think college is for her. I'm not sure how a person can tell that after two days and before classes even start, but there you have it.

When I talk to her on the phone, she sounds so sad. So very sad. And that isn't her personality. In fact, she has a smile that you can hear in her voice. She is usually so outgoing and bubbly. She is normally a kid who makes friends easily, yet she's spent every spare moment so far sitting in her dorm. Yes, I realize the upside is that she isn't out partying, but she isn't out doing anything else, either. One of my favorite sounds in the world is her laughter, and I miss it. Like crazy.

I don't understand where she's coming from. I honestly and truly don't.

You see, she's fortunate enough to have this golden opportunity. Due to some circumstances, she has college practically paid for. She is being handed an education right there on a silver platter and she acts like she doesn't want it.

I know I'm biased. I think a college degree is important. Very important. So important, in fact, that I spent a total of 15 years trying to get mine. I won't go into the statistics of how much more a college graduate makes over a lifetime. It's a significant difference. Are there more important things then money? Of course there are. At least there are until you can't pay the rent. Then money becomes a bit more important. What's that phrase? Money can't buy happiness, but it's more comfortable to be miserable in a BMW than on a 10-speed. Something like that... A college degree is the difference between working in a coffee shop and owning the coffee shop.

And despite what she claims from customers at the restaurant she worked at, I've never heard of anyone who regretted getting their degree, but I know plenty of people who regret not getting one. (Hey, if I'm wrong, let me know!) Besides her education is practically paid for! Where is the "waste of money" if it isn't your money? (And why couldn't she come up with that moral argument when she wanted a car/prom dress/TOMS/new flat iron?) Where is waste if you take advantage of a limited time opportunity?

I hate to admit it, but I know that if she leaves school I will loose a certain amount of respect for her as a person. Don't misunderstand!! I will always love my baby. And yes, I want her to be happy. I just want her to also be educated. At 18, she has no idea what's going to happen in the next 5-10-30 years. And in all that time, she will need a roof over her head, food in her belly. But I will always remember that she had this chance, one that I had to work so much harder for, and she tossed it aside like a rotten tomato.

I honestly don't care what her degree is in. History? Fine. English? Fine. Physical Therapy? Fine. Counseling? Fine. Underwater Basket Weaving? Fine. I just want her to have that college degree. To have something she can use to fall back on later.

In the current economy, there are enough people unemployed (and, to be fair, underemployed). Many of them are fighting for those minimum wage jobs. Competition can be fierce. An education is a way to give yourself an advantage.

Plus, with all the general classes required, a college student learns a lot of things which can open their minds to so many more opportunities. And opportunities open more doors.

The idea of her miserable breaks my heart, it makes me cry. But I'm not giving in on this one. It's more important for her to have that sheepskin, to take advantage of this opportunity she's being given. I know it's harsh, but if she drops out, she's on her own. No more funds from mom and dad. We will support her as long as she remains in school: car insurance, health insurance, laundry money, whatever it takes. We'll even help once she graduates and is actively looking for work in any field. But not if she leaves school. That's a decision I can't support. And the thought of that breaks my heart.

I know that at 18, she is considered a legal adult. She's made decisions in her six months of adult-hood that I disagree with. She still hasn't registered to vote, which just bugs the crap outta me. We won't discuss the septum piercing. *shiver*

I will always love her. Always. More than she can possibly imagine. But I can't support her making a decision that will limit her future. Maybe I'm just a snob. Maybe I'm I worry too much. Maybe I'm just an overprotective mother who wants what is best for her child. Maybe I'm so cheap that I can't imagine throwing away such an opportunity just because. Maybe I'm letting the sadness in her voice get the best of me.

I think the next few weeks will be tough. On all of us. And I wish it weren't. I wish I'd hear the smile again. I wish she would look toward the future instead of acting like she was stuck in a prison.

Me