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!

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

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

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

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

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

Next week will be a busy one. No doubt about it.

First, the Central States Fair is in town and the kid has (once again) convinced us to let her get a "Big D" pass. So, she gets to ride the rides all week (Monday through Friday at 9 p.m.) for "one low price. She'll have fun anyway.

On Monday, I turn 30-something. No, I'm not trying to hide my age. I'm just too tired and haven't had enough coffee to do the math. Ages/dates/numbers were never my thing. Lets see, it's 2008. I was born in 1971. That's what? 37? Ok, so that's how old I'll be. (Yes, M, S & H, I know you're all younger than me. So what? I'm cuter and smarter.)

Tuesday night I get my eye surgery. I'm really starting to get excited. But also nervous. Because of that, no makeup all week. That will be OK. Makes getting ready in the a.m. a little quicker I suppose.

Wednesday I just may get my nose pierced. Yep. You read right. I found out that hubby thinks its "sexy" as long as it's "tasteful" (read: small and conservative) and I do have a bit of a wild streak in me. Yeah, I know that comes as a shock to those who know me IRL. Oh well. On a side note, is it an oxymoron to use "conservative" to describe a nose piercing? Something to think about.

Thursday, I'm supposed to go to a birthday/going away party for a friend. The problem is that it's a "dress up in your favorite costume" thing, and I have no idea what to wear. So, I haven't RSVPed either way. Hmmm...

Friday is my (and hubby's) anniversary. Nope, can't tell you off the top of my head how long. Let's see, the kid was 4. Now she's 15. 11 years, I suppose. Or 111 some days. No, no idea what we'll do. We did already exchange gifts.

About the gifts. My old embroidery machine kinda died (long story) and hubby bought me a new one. As far as I'm concerned that counts for birthday AND anniversary. But he also bought me a Sturgis shot glass when he went up for the rally (birthday) and a new motorcycle helmet (anniversary). His wallet was literally falling apart , so that's what I had gotten him for the anniversary and I couldn't stand his whining about it anymore. I finally gave it to him. Complete with a dollar that he promptly gave me! What a guy!

So that will be my week. I have some new yarn that I got on e-bay. (It's SOOOO pretty and will make some beautiful socks!!!) I'll try to get a picture later. Same with the motorcycle helmet.

Oh, I have to finish a dress for Daughters of the Nile. I got it cut out last night and that's the part I despise. I need to run to the fabric store for thread, a 7 inch zipper, 5 buttons (which I won't use, I'll use snaps -- I hate button holes!), and some interfacing. I'm hoping to have that dress done by the September 13 meeting. I finally did all those embroidered bookmarks (128 of them total) that I wanted by the time my term as Queen starts and will get a picture of those, too. I'm even working on corsages for my installation in March. I need to work on the lap quilt I'll be raffling, though. I need that finished by my installation, as well. I have 4 blocks embroidered and the design for one more ready. I need to decide what other color fabric I'm going to use, though, and purchase the designs I want to use that I don't already have.

And I'm knitting 20 washcloths with stars in them for Eastern Star in November. I have 15 of those done. Also got a perm this week, since the step-kid is attending beauty college and needed a "head model." So a new picture of me is probably necessary, too. (Hubby is getting his hair cut today by her for a school assignment.) Although, step-kid says she is learning color next week, so I might get the gray hidden before I get a new picture. As hubby would say, "NCT" (Never Can Tell).

Oh! On the writing front, I have an idea for book two. Well, I have TWO ideas for book two. If you're interested, I'd love some input on them. (Either here, or at my writing blog: http://www.nicholerbennett.com) Anyway, the first idea is the murder has to do with sacred Native American land, a casino/resort/campground, and a rancher loosing grazing land. Idea number two has the murder being more of a revenge killing between an outlaw motorcycle gang and a "cop gang" with maybe a campground, and definitely some Sturgis Rally flavor. Oh, either way, the murder will happen at a sacred Lakota site in the Black Hills. That's a given. I don't want to go into too many details in case someone just don't care, but if anyone wants more info, let me know at either site. I want to really work on book two during NaNoWriMo in November. And for those wondering, no book one isn't finished yet, but is about half to two-thirds of the way.

Well, I guess that's enough for now. I hope to get those pictures up and be more faithful in writing here.

Ain't she purty?

My little girl isn't so little anymore. She turned 15 yesterday.

She's had a rough year. Starting high school. First boy friend. First break up. First date. Car accident. Finding out some of her friends weren't. Making new ones. Through it all, though, she's been the same basic kid. For that I'm so grateful. She has a good heart. I'm really proud to be her mom...

It's one thing to write about terrible events in some fictional character's lives. It's another thing to live through an event like that in your own.

Let me explain.

Tuesday, April 1, started off like any other day. Here in the Beautiful Black Hills, we'd had some snow (not unusual for late March, early April) and the roads were a little slick. Since it was April Fool's Day, I started it off by telling the kid she didn't have school. Got her hopes up, just to say "April Fool's!" I know, I'm a meanie. She got up, got dressed, and headed off to school.

Before I continue, let me explain something. The state law in South Dakota gives 14 year olds the privilege of driving. I'm not a native of this state, so maybe that's why it's not a law I've ever agreed with. I think 14 is a bit young. If 16 was good enough for me, then it should be good enough for everyone, right? But ask any South Dakotan between the ages of 12 and 16, and you'll hear what a great idea this law is. So the kid and her dad convinced me to let her take driver's ed, let her get a car, let her drive herself to school.

So Tuesday, I'm waiting. Waiting for the call that my child is required to make. The one that is supposed to put me at ease about her driving. The one where she tells me in the most annoying of teenage voices that she's once again made it to school on time. Instead, when my phone rings, she's crying. "Mom, I've been in an accident."

My husband says my response was to scream "Oh My God!" That's when he knew something was wrong, perceptive guy that he is. I spent the next few minutes trying to talk to our daughter, answer hubby's barrage of questions and get dressed (hey, when you work out of your home, you you can delay showering right away!). I finally heard a man's voice, "You need to hang up." My sobbing daughter replied, "It's my mom. She'll be mad." The man took the phone from her and told me he was a paramedic. I needed to meet them at the hospital. Once again I thought I was going to vomit. My overactive, mystery-laden brain was coming up with all kinds of scenarios.

On the way to the hospital, I started making calls. The school needed to know she wouldn't be in today. The auto insurance company needed to know about the accident. (Where was that policy info anyway? Oh yeah, in her car.) The medical insurance company needed to know she was going to the hospital. (What do you mean I have to call you back? Aren't I supposed to get pre-authorization for everything? Oh, the rules are different in an emergency? I see.) Her grandparents needed to know.

Since the ride to the hospital obviously took at least an hour -- difficult since I know hubby was really pushing the speed limit, going the most direct route and it's only 10 miles from our home to the hospital! -- I had time to make these calls. I called my dad's cell phone. Dad is a retired cop and can handle an emergency. He didn't answer. I called Mom's phone next. Mom is a never-to-retire homemaker who doesn't deal real well with blood, vomit, or hysterical daughters. She says didn't understand a thing I said besides "I need to talk to Dad." Meanwhile I remember my husband telling me I had to calm down.

Once I got Dad on the phone, I really lost it. I was able to finish my mini-break-down (first of many, it turns out!) by the time we got to the hospital. We beat the ambulance there and had our daughter all checked in by the time she showed up. I'm not sure how that happened, to be honest. I don't remember answering any questions. Hubby probably handled that. I'm almost positive I didn't.

When we saw her, she was on a backboard with a neck brace. An oxygen tube was stuck in her nose. Her face was scratched and scraped from the airbag. Her eyes were red (well, the one she could open) from crying. Her clothing was burnt (not only the sweater, which you see here, but the cami and bra underneath it). She had two fat lips. Once again, I thought I would vomit.

I won't go through the emotions of the cat scan and x-rays. I know I talked to the cop as he gave her a ticket for failure to yield. I know I didn't argue with him. I just wanted to be back in the ER room with her. Besides, years of experience taught me not to argue with a cop. Or is that just not to argue with Dad?

I remember having to leave a few times. Telling the kid I had to pee, when I was really in the bathroom crying.

Eventually, the doc said they would release her... sort of. She needed to be taken across the street to an oral surgeon. Her jaw was "very broke." She ended up having it wired shut, a condition she doesn't need for dietary reasons (the kid is 5'6" and MAYBE 120 pounds!), but will have to live with for the next 5 weeks. At least. By the way, the cost of that part alone was more than we paid for the car. And that doesn't include follow-up visits or the ER trip.

Now, a mere two days later, I'm still a basket case. I find myself accidentally starting down the path of "what if" and can feel the tears well up inside me. I'm not sure this kid will ever get to leave sight of either her dad or me. Looking at the car, I know how close we came to losing her.

I know I will never again leave the house, or let her leave the house, or let my husband leave the house without saying those three words that annoy every teenager -- "I love you." I know that I will take my writing more seriously because it's something that is important to me and I've seen that we really don't know what tomorrow brings. I know that we should never put off what needs to be done right now -- at least not when it comes to those we love.

I'm so sorry I had to learn these lessons. I know it was Divine Intervention that kept my daughter from being "more hurt." Her angels were on the job that morning. Take a few minutes right now and tell your family and friends and loved ones what they mean to you. You might be really glad you did. No matter what, it will put things in perspective for you.

What a week!

I've been a little stressed lately. (Hubby is rolling his eyes, I'm sure.) I have a little trouble saying no. (There goes Hubby again!) But it's the stress at home -- mostly self-imposed, I admit -- that's got me frazzled. Perfection is a pain in the arse. If I don't think I can do it right, or don't have the time to do it right, I wait. And then, in the case of laundry, for example, it piles up. And then I have to do a LOT to catch up. And then I get stressed.

Lost weight this week. Not as much as I gained the week before, but I still lost. Since the beginning of October, I've been gaining and losing the same five pounds. I'm ready to break through that, though. I need to break through that.

Did get my hair died. Finally! It's cute and I'll try to get a pic this weekend. It's darker than I've usually done, and no red, which is unusual for me. But I do like it. Oh, and there's some purple in it. That I love!

I haven't done a lot of writing this week. I think a combination of the self-imposed stress and the nasty critique made me lose my focus. I can feel it returning, though.

What else? Ah, roller derby. I'm playing with names, and the ones I really loved were taken. DANG IT! Nancy DrewBlood was my favorite, and of course taken! Now I'm thinking of Mizz Prizz. Since I'm a bit more "prissy" than some of the others. Any thoughts? I helped Pinkie B Witched fill out the grant info for our league, and the deadline was yesterday, so we should hear something soon.

I'm doing two craftster swaps. One should be finished today, and then I can focus on the second. I also have an Eastern Star official visit on Saturday. In case I didn't mention, I'm headed up the line there, as well as in Nile. (Those with no Masonic background are totally lost, I'm sure.) Up two lines? Goes back to problems saying no. I will be glad when the OV is over though.

Oh! Notice the second ticker at the top of the page? My sister challenged me to a dare. (What are we? 12?) Anyway, she bet me that I can't make a quilt every other week in 2008 and donate them all to charity. Here are her rules:

• all quilts have to be for at least a double-size bed
• they have to be made out of quality fabric ("no crappy polyester," I think she said)
• the quilts all have to be donated to a homeless shelter or women's shelter
• a picture of the quilt and a receipt from the shelter are required

So, that's 26 quilts. I got the stuff for the first one yesterday and plan to get it finished this week. Hubby wants to know when I'll make the quilt for our bed that I've been promising him. I want to do one for my dad, too, but he doesn't know about it (although he may read this occasionally) so I don't have to hear about not having that one done. Unless of course he DOES read this, and now I'll have to hear about it, won't I? Oh, the prize for our challenge is a free lunch. Not as cheap as it sounds. The loser has to drive to the others house for the weekend and buy the winner lunch. Since my sister and I live about 500 miles apart, that's a big deal. Hope sis has cash. I 'll pick a pricey lunch!

That's about it. Tons going on. Next week I hope is a little less stressful. My plan is to MAKE it less stressful!

The kid completed her first round of finals, and, while the grades for the final exams could have been better, her semester grades were As and Bs. No point in complaining about those grades!

I'm in the middle of doing two craftster swaps, but I won't be mentioning WHAT I'm making until I know my partners get their packages. One of my partners, I know, was checking the blog earlier. I will admit, though, that crafting for a New Year's resolution to be more organized is a challenge. I've come up with something for it, and finished that one. I just hope my partner likes it. Then again, sometimes one person's organized is another person's chaos, so I hope I'm on the right track.

Looking at the calendar, I see this is another busy week, with meetings every night. Sometimes I wonder how I get to that point, but I can't imagine giving any of them up right now. Add teaching Sunday School, and picking up the kid from school, and running to the grocery store, and making dinner, and doing laundry... sometimes I just feel like I'm at the end of my rope and even the things I volunteer to do because I like them start to be a strain.

I've written another few pages of Ghost Mountain, and I'm planning to submit it to a contest. The contest takes the first 20 pages, plus a two-page summary. I don't really care if I win. The cool thing about this contest is that the judge is an editor at one of the publishing houses. Now there is someone I'd like to ask to see the rest!

That's the week here. I lost a few pounds at WW, but I seem to be having a lot of trouble with it. Partly I know I've had the "munchies" and been REALLY craving the chocolate. I know that doesn't help, either. I saw a picture of me taken almost a year ago, and even I didn't recognize myself. Odd, isn't it? I do need to decide, though, if I want to lose another 15 or 30. I KNOW I want to do the 10 or 15, for sure. It's the other weight to put me where WW says I should be that I'm not sure about. I've decided not to make up my mind until I get to where I know I want to be. (Gee, without giving my goal weight away, that gets confusing!)

Well, that's my ramblings for tonight...

Until next time!

The kid is sick. Well, not so much anymore, but she was this week. Her temp reached a high-point of 102.6. YIKES! The ER doc determined it's a virus of some sort (gee, thanks) and gave her vicoden (or however THAT's spelled) for the aches and pains so she could actually get some rest. When he left the room, the kid says "Isn't that what House takes?" If she starts to walk with a limp, I'll be worried!

She has finals next week and is very concerned about them. Being homeschooled that wasn't something she ever did before. Then again, she's a freshman in high school this year, and I'm not sure "regular school" kids in middle school would have taken finals. So the weekend will be spent resting and studying.

Oh, the vicoden must have worked. Her fever finally broke last night and she was her normal, goofy, teen-age self once again.

Dang my kid is beautiful. Then again, so is her best friend (picture #2)! Her sister isn't half bad, either (picture #3)!

For those of you in the Upper Midwest, DO NOT BE ALARMED! There are no animals dying!

At least not in the horrible ways you may be "hearing."

No, rather, my hubby got his Christmas wish — bagpipes!

Why exactly did I mention those to my parents? I'm not sure... Oh well, he's a happy camper and is actually getting a little better.

I do think the long horns on the wall clash with the pipes, though! *grin*

Well Christmas has come and gone, and still no word back on Ghost Mountain. I don't even know who ended up with it TO critique. I was talking to my sister about it, and a thought occurred to me: what if it's an author I don't like? Then if THAT PERSON doesn't like my story, I can be OK with it. But what if they do and I don't like their stores? Interesting dilemma, isn't it?

We spent Christmas with my family. First time in 10 years, to be honest. Anyway, this is a picture of the lap quilt I did for my grandmother. The blocks are the Lord's Prayer.

As for gifts, I got a lot of jewelry, a book on angels, one on saints, a few on Celtic Christianity, Pirates of the Caribbean Scene-It, and some knitting stuff. The kid got mostly clothes and fairies (she likes fairies!), and hubby got coins and bagpipes. Yes, I said bagpipes. No, he has NO IDEA how to play. My mom got the "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?" DVD game and we spent some time playing that. I've learned that I AM smarter, but not by much.

Only other homemade gift I did this year was a purse set for my step-daughter. I'm not sure she liked it (she's hard to "read" ya know...), but I think it came out really well.

Just got home from visiting family for Christmas (will post more about that later) and downloaded the pictures from my camera. This one I had to post because it was so darn cute!

Well, I was right... Had to get the kid...

What a mixed week.

I gained a pound. A full pound. Amazingly, I really wanted to LOSE that amount, so now I have to lose two pounds to make the WW official 50 pounds. Dang it.

For those who read the comments, I did mail off the first 50 pages of Ghost Mountain and it will be at the coordinator's tomorrow. Gotta love "priority mail." Now I'll be doing edits on other places. I love my critique group, but it does get hard to keep up with the edits while adding new and exciting material. Or maybe I'm just stressing.

Yeah, I know that's going on, and I know I need to make time for myself, but I don't see that happening anytime in the near future. Add the chaos of the holidays, and it really won't happen.

Oh, and the teen ager has a sore throat today, but went to school anyway. I'm waiting for them to call and say she's sick, come get her.

And I broke my toe on Sunday. It's still in the "pretty" Technicolor stage and hasn't reached "rotting fruit" shades yet. Still hurts like heck, though.

Sometimes, ya just feel like you need a vacation....

The kid didn't take marching band, but she she had to wear the uniform anyway! Last night was a concert -- both local high school bands played and then they had a "drum line" competition. Weirdest competition ever. No trophy, no judges, no winner. But she had a good time and the bands played fantastically! (Easy to say, since her best friend is in the band at the other school!)