Coup de Grace

coup de grace ("blow of mercy") means
a death blow to end the suffering of a wounded creature.

Act 3, Final Scene

Five.

That's how many drafts I have waiting to post. Revised, edited, rewritten over and over. Every time I go back they become more and more dull and lifeless. My postings, more and more sporadic. It is a sign.

I keep coming back to this place. Beating the horse, "Hey dude, is there life left in you? Are you gonna get up? Are you sure you're dead? Cause I think ya got a few more miles in ya." Ugh. "Don't be dead. Come on!", and then I kick it, because I want it to live.

How many times have I circled this mountain? Once? Twice? Now again?

I feel like such a flake. Do I have no stick-to-it-ive-ness? For once, I'd like to just make a decision and stay with it. But I'm so weak. Y'all say things to me like, "I'm gonna miss you", and "I miss your blog", and "You're so awesome it's stupefying!" Well, not so much that last one but I would totally be okay with it... What I'm saying to you is my co-dependence on your comments disables me.

Plainly, it's your fault.

Oh! But I've been so bored with my own writing lately I want to chew off my own arm and throw it into an abyss of death the next time I see one.

Every time I've done this (quit... not chew off my arm), it has been with good reason. Very good, legitimate reason (like responsible time management), (although the chewing can be easily justified, too) and still I find my way back. Maybe it's like peeling an onion? One layer at a time... God knows that to rip it away all at once would be too grievous for me, His tender little onion blossom.

Dang it though! I'm gonna miss it here... even though I've been so utterly lame lately. So lame it bruises me and crushes my very soul. Every time I look through my old posts, I wonder, what has happened to me? I used to be better at this! Is this God's way of causing me to let it go? This gradual dulling of my mind, my posts increasingly tedious -- increasingly boring.

Unsuitable.

Flat.

Whether or not that's by Design, I can't say, but it does make walking away more easily done, even if only slightly more easily done. Disobedience to this inner leading though could only mean more of the same lame that deteriorates into more and more lame. Who wants to continue that kind of legacy? And besides, my ego can't take that.

I'll tell you what this is about. God is totally gunning for me. He is trying to kill me. It's true. I'm not making that up and it's not a Conspiracy Theory. (See for yourself: Jn 12:24) I never want to sacrifice blogging. This is the thing I hold to with the most tenacity. I WANT TO KEEP THIS THING!

I can't say for certain why I feel God leading me here. I can't articulate the reason except to say I feel it has something to do with death to self, and also faithfulness to follow through with what I hear God saying to me in this moment, whether I "get it" or not. (See Rom 12:1-2)

I'm trying to think of some spiritually awesome analogy for y'all, to paint you a beautiful word picture, but all my brain will give me is this:

My acorn of a blog is entering the Fall
and then after that, the Winter,
where it will go down, down, down into the dark soil,
buried for a little while in the quiet darkness,
seen only by God and the worms.
There, God will do things to it and maybe one day
it will grow into a beautiful oak tree (down) by the river.

I'll wait while you get your tissues 'cause that was moving, right there. I just know it blessed your heart.

I hope that while I'm gone, y'all don't write anything awesome. If you do, email me the link okay, because I don't want to be the last to know. That would be like the Three Amigos... when one (that would be me) goes off to the bathroom and the others (the rest of you) have a secret meeting without him (me).

(If you're liking that little bit of genius Three Amigos prose right there, well, watch The Office more often and you can hear gems like that from Michael Scott, the little buttercup himself; and then you can gank them from him like I did just there.)

So I guess this is my swan song, my coup de grace, until God releases me and I can write something that isn't loathsome trash. Hopefully that release will come relatively soon. Meantime, y'all promise to miss me okay?, and email me some time. I like the social aspect of the internet very much. Y'all are my friends, and I miss you already. (PS -- You don't have to say you're proud of me. Just pray for me, because this is really hard.)

(heavy sigh)

Exit Stage Left

Curtains

I bet I could eat all those doughnuts in one sitting and other random thoughts.

1. Please share one middle school memory. It can be good, bad, ugly, funny. Pictures or words, I don't care, just share.
Middle School... that would be 7th and 8th Grade? Those were the worst of all my school years. Those were the years I was in serious emotional trouble; a danger to myself. I hated my life in every way.

• I spent several class periods in the Guidance Counselor's Office, dodging PE and also, brooding and sulking.
• I obsessed over, pined after and lost my identity in a thug (who I thought was so fine!) who had no interest in me. That's the year I learned the meaning of the word "unrequited" and also "infatuation".
• I wasn't good at putting on make-up (but still snuck the little bit I'd gotten from my mom or stolen from Wal-Mart into my backpack so I could apply it at school since I wasn't yet allowed to wear it.)

I was in trouble, y'all.

I know that's a heavy starter but it was that, or you know, lie.

2. What's your favorite Beatles song?

I like the Beatles.
Especially,
I'm Looking Through You
When I'm 64
Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da

3. If I asked you to describe your most comfortable outfit, what would it be?

Pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt, but I'm not sure that qualifies as a real "outfit", as in "something I might wear on an outing". If that's what "outfit" means, then I vote for my black knit dress. It's as comfortable as my first choice, only better looking.

4. Would you rather host a party or be a guest?

I enjoy a little of both.

5. Do you think we will move completely from traditional books to digital ones, and if we do, are you OK with that?

I should dearly hope not. Digital books do nothing for me. What pleasure is there in reading a book you cannot feel or smell?

6. Do you learn best by reading, listening or experiencing?

I'm tactile. I learn best by touching. I enjoy the other two, but doing something myself is the best way for me to actually remember what I'm learning.

7. If you are (or when you were) single, what is the kiss of death for you concerning the opposite sex? (That is, what is one trait or behavior or habit or anything at all that immediately turns you off from considering that person a potential match for you?)
All of these criteria rose up after I got sober. Before that, let's just say I was less demanding.

A. Violently sucking food out of his teeth
B. Wearing socks with sandals or super-reflective lens sunglasses
C. Acted needy or clingy or seeming desperate in any way
D. Smelling like an ashtray or taking the pot
E. Having snaggleteeth or halitosis

I would date: None of the above.

8. Snacks. Salty or sweet?

I'm weak. I fall for both.

9. Look around you in a four foot radius. What object is around you that you didn't realize was there or forgot was there? How long has it been there?

A bunch of cassette tapes. They've been there for 6 years--as long as we've been in this house. They've been in my possession for years and years though. I keep them because I'm a packrat they provide me with some much-appreciated nostalgia and dust.

10. What is your favorite Tom Cruise movie?

I'm not a fan.

Now Tom Hanks? That's a horse of a different color.

11. You buy a bottle of shampoo and discover that you don't like what it does to your hair at all. What do you do with that full bottle?

Glare at it and scold it for being a selfish and unfeeling waste of my money.

Then I give it away because maybe someone else can benefit from my misstep.

12. Your favorite Fall comfort food?

Warm pie, the orange kind.
You know the ones....The usual suspects. Sweet Potato and Pumpkin.

(leaning in to whisper) Although truth be told, I cannot tell the difference.

Can you?
There's more where this came from. Go to Lid's place to partake.

Happiness is...

Something I recognize in myself is that I find it disturbingly easy to complain about things. I find myself far too easily slanted in that direction, but today I'm thinking happy thoughts about happy things. This is by no means extensive, only a small conglomeration of things that make me supremely and incandescently happy.

WORDS sunshine real whipped cream rainy nights embroidery hoops ribbon velvet simple but unusual jewelry
wire baskets {especially chicken wire}
t-strap mary janes good jeans sweater coats
my first cup of coffee bluebirds springtime {le printemps}
french thrift stores fabric notecards
NESTS shipping tags kraft paper bags COLOR {{glitter}}
baby's breath
{the real deal and the flowers, but especially the real deal}
bunnies the smell of newborn babies
[twig pencils] crafting running outdoors with my iPod
used book sales {Pride & Prejudice}
air mail {par avion}
handwritten notes solitude REAL FRIENDS crowns hobby stores
|red & white stripes| Christmas
my family's belly laughs children's art a good deal snow
finishing a project Mad Libs diagramming sentences
finding the perfect purse
books that make me feel I should read with a British accent
{believing God} well timed jokes
a perfectly situated tree alongside a bubbling brook
cottage gardens
{family togetherness}

What about you?

A Case for Bacon -or- My New Favorite Health Foods

This lady may have just ruined my propensity to diet forever ("propensity", because let's be real, I'm not a consistent dieter, even though I try and I sure think about it a bunch. Does that count for something?).

Cheers! To long life and to bacon!

Status Updates

As you can see, I'm still thinking in status updates. You know what they say about habits--

[Powerful indeed is the empire of habit. (Publilius Syrus said that.)]

Ironically, Publilius was one of the names we considered for our last born.

[Old habits are strong and jealous. (That would be Dorothea Brande.)]

...even Magic Eraser can't help me now. There is more permanent marker on my little one this morning... it'll take a week and miracle to get his arms clean again.

...just realized Grandparent's Day is this weekend - time to start cranking out some sincere handmade cards!

...wishes that when I decide to go on a no-sugar diet, that sugar would suddenly become repulsive to me. Sugar is my unrequited love.

...loves getting new vitamins/supplements in the mail! They make me feel so hopeful.

...just played a little Spelling Bee on The Free Dictionary (nobody's revoking my Nerd Card), and I feel like such a little smarty when I get the expert words right! And then I'm zapped back into reality when I can't even understand the next word's pronunciation. Oh well, I still have the win of my 4th Grade Spelling Bee, where I correctly spelled the impossible word "fraction", and that beautiful trophy of a gold spectacled bee holding a book was in the bag! (I wish I still had it. I would totally rock it as the best bookend ever.)

...is now in favor of human cloning. Two of me has to be better than one. Although... now that I think about it, it's not misery that loves company, but laziness. Two of us would probably do even less than one, so nevermind. Better press on.

Funny is funny because it is TRUE.

I just got this email from one of my favorite friends ever, Melissa. I'm telling you like I told her, I needed this laugh today, lest I run away from home.

It's been a beautiful day. (Now's when that sarcasm font would be handy-dandy.)

Like I said, this was an email, so you know, completely plagiarized.

(I should know because one day, I "plagiarized" one of my parents' signatures on a Disciplinary Action Report, and then I had to write the Webster's full definition of plagiarism pert-near a thousand times.)(I still hate my parents for that one.)

(The actual amount is a bit cloudy, but I still have a pencil groove in my ring finger on my right hand to prove it was a whole HECK of A-Bunch.)

(There went my hand modeling career, like a fart in the wind.)

Anyway, I hate to put off the laughs, so let's move along, shall we?

-I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

-More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

-Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

-How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

-I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

-The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.

- Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

-What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

- I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

-I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

- Bad decisions make good stories.

-Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....

-You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

-I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

-I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

-When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.

-My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How do I respond to that?

-It really ticks me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.

-The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fatso before dinner.

Laughing must really be good for you, because I just laughed a bunch and now, I'm slightly less twitchy and a little more certain that everything is gonna be OH-KIZ-AY.

The silver lining: Where there's smoke, there is NOT fire.

My house smells atrocious right now.

Atrocious.

I was feeling very domestic earlier and set supper to start on the stove and decided to bake some egg-free sugar cookies for my allergy ridden family to enjoy.

(Actually, only the baby has the egg allergy but earlier in the week, I made chocolate chip cookies that he was denied so I was feeling bad for him.)

Supper was to be bean burritos, but I had to cook the dry beans first. I set them to boil, added some water a bit later as I saw the level dropping and then headed outside and promptly forgot all about it.

Much time passed (probably close to an hour) and my Sweet Pickle asked to come inside for some milk and then came quickly back out the back door exclaiming, "Mama, the house stinks. Why do your beans smell like that?"

"Oh my gosh! The beans!! I forgot all about them!"

There goes supper. It's looking like a great night to eat out.

The house is hazy like a youth function. Fans are on high, windows are thrown open and I keep spraying Oust, only to see it (smell it?) quickly defeated by the ghastly bean odor.

In conclusion,
Today will be "affectionately" remembered as
The Day She Set The House On Smoke.

And also, the day I changed the smoke alarm batteries,
because they have made nary a peep in all this excitation.

What is best for YOU

While it may not be insidious by nature, with my present circumstances it is most certainly insidious to me.

insidious - awaiting a chance to entrap; harmful but enticing; having a gradual and cumulative effect
syn. treacherous, seductive, subtle

Facebook is the beast of which I speaketh.

I think we can all agree that by nature, Facebook cannot be called a beast.

What I'm talking about here is conviction. Mine. I've been under some heavy stuff since I was recently challenged by this question:

What is the purpose in your pursuits this past week?

These words struck me, too:

Every commitment needs a purpose you can articulate & define.

We must learn to differentiate between distractions & duties.

Well okay then. That certainly clears things up then, doesn't it?

How does Facebook fit into my life? Distraction or duty? Can I articulate the purpose of it for me? Yes. It's a diversion from my duties, which is to say it's a diversion from my family.

For clarity's sake, the only reason I felt any conviction at all is because I know the time I've spent there, "just checking". I've begun to think in terms of status updates. My life is not a series of status updates.

We're homeschooling this year for the first time, and when I consider the purpose behind that, it makes the whole issue of Facebook very clear for me... and nothing grand just happens, I must remind myself.

Self to self talk: Well then ya know what ya gotta do, huh? You gotta drop it like it's hot!

And so that's what I aim to do - because I want to run as to get the prize, not chase multiple pursuits aimlessly.

So, at some point today, Facebook will suddenly drop off my radar.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When I went to Bible Gateway (which is a great site, by the way) to get the "prize" reference, this is what greeted me at the door:

“This is what the LORD says—
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel:
"I am the LORD your God, who teaches you what is best for you,
who directs you in the way you should go.”
Isaiah 48:17

Left to myself, I would chase rabbits and shiny things (and Facebook) all day, and then complain at the end of the day (or at the end of my days) that my life is what it is. I know, because I already have that nasty habit.

I am so grateful for the leading of my Redeemer (who redeems me from myself, among other things) because His guidance leads down the roads that lead to the desires of my heart...
family togetherness and a house filled with love...

Unpacking Your (lengthy list of) Adjectives

This year, being our first year homeschooling, there will be many days that I have to get things done and I will have to learn to brave the rapids (of grocery stores and car rides and such) with all three of my squeamish children and no one else.

This weekend, I got the chance to practice.

But Mama didn't raise no fool. It was the weekend, which meant I might not have to go it alone. I'll practice next time.

I called my sister (Backup! Holla!) to see if she'd like to come along with me (and my three wretched little shoppers) to go do a little shopping. She said she'd be delighted (or something like that). All I heard was yes, and I was golden.

Together, we braved a few fierce stores, and the callousMall, which is no debonair task. Thankfully, one of the stores had an enclosed play area, with a high, resolute wall, in place to discourage climbing out (which almost worked).

SIDENOTE:
I just love it
when a children's store
is set up in a way that
makes room for actual children.
I find it incredibly helpful
and supremely awesome.
Thank you!

We shopped close by and kept our eyes on the kids while they had the most fun shopping in as long as they could remember. (It was also the most fun I've had shopping with kids in as long as I could remember.)

It's not that they're bad shoppers. I mean, they are, but it's because they're just not made for it. Their Mama loves to shop and I have to explore all of my frumpy options before making a decision which makes for deranged and nostalgic shopping trips.

We figured we could tackle that lugubrious beast, the Mall, mostly because we could bribe them with treats, like candy and McDonald's. We went into a shoe store where I had to continuously remind them to stop taking the dashing shoes off of the crispety-crunchety peanut-buttery shelves to ask us if we liked them or thought they were cool. How 'bout asking me if I think my head might explode, because yes, Yes, I think it may!

When it was finally all said and done, we made good on our putrid candy and chicken nugget promises, and partook of a few of the boorish tasties ourselves. French fries can cure almost any ailment, far as I can tell.

In closing, if you elect me President, I promise that all stores will have a high-walled embankment for keeping little ones safe (perhaps from their own mother's who might squish them in an effort to just make them be still for goodness sake). And also, every woman will have a sister to shop with at all times. Amen.

(All adjective offerings have been underlined and linked wherever possible, and do keep in mind that they were chosen at random. Thank ya very muuuuuch!)

May I Have A Word? | Chapter 3

I've always been a big, big fan of Mad Libs, especially for the element of surprise. It's something that snagged me way back when, in like, middle school, and has never turned me loose. But I don't mind, 'cause I had love them lil' Mad Libs. It's a match made in Heaven. God made me to love language, and then He made somebody else make Mad Libs. And then we met, me and Mad Libs, and I fell in love.

So, as a way to work that sort of fun into my little blogging world, I'd like to present to you the May I Have a Word, Unpack Your Adjectives Edition.

By way of review, in case you're a little foggy,
an adjective modifies a noun, distinguished by one of several suffixes such as -able, -ous, -er, and -est, or by position, directly preceding a noun or nominal phrase.

Here is a short list of possibles:
colossal
lumpy
paltry
unkempt
husky
glistening
thrunchy

In order for this to work like actual, real live Mad Libs, what I'll do is write down your offerings and draw randomly from a bowl and use them when I find myself in need of an adjective... and perhaps, I'll write a little more descriptively, to make more room for more adjectives.

Also, I have not forgotten about your other offerings that have not yet seen the light of a posted post as opposed to a draft --- they will soon surface as well. Do not despair.

So go on now, and Unpack Your Adjectives so I can use them to tell you my tales.
And have a pleasant day!

With age comes oversharing?

I'd like to talk a little today about some of the particulars of aging, as it pertains to certain ones of the female persuasion.

I think we all know the expression, "With age comes wisdom". How about the slightly less known, "With age comes too much information". Heard of it? Well I propose, even if the expression is unknown to you, the concept is not.

I recently met a lady in passing; let's call her Lucille, shall we? Lucille and I chatted a bit as women do, making small talk. Shortly thereafter, a friend of hers, whom we'll call Pearl, walked up to us and greeted Lucille.

Keep in mind that these ladies were standing within arms reach of me, and I don't have excessively long arms, which means that I can hear them, and they know that I can hear them, and also bear in mind, I am a complete stranger to them both.

Pearl says, "Hey Lu, how ya doin?"

Lucille responds, "Wellll, I have a yeast infection and hemorrhoids so, you know, I should probably be home with my feet propped up instead of in here shopping."

I don't think that's what Pearl was gunning for.

This sort of reply always puts someone (who thinks you're crazy) in the awkward position of having to respond.

Let's keep going though, shall we? How about another example of this most troubling phenomenon?

My friend tells tale of the day a woman left her Grandfather in social difficulties. She describes her Grandfather as a very conservative, and very, very private man. One day, a family member shows up to his home. As he opens the door to her he says, "Hi so and so, How ya doin'?" She throws her hands in the air over her head and says in exasperation and with great energy, "Not too good! I'm bleedin' from the rectum!"

What happens between 17 and say... 50?

At 17, girls are mortified and prepared to drop out of school, and may even write into a magazine that bears their age telling of their most embarrassing moment, if they come out of the bathroom with a tiny piece of toilet paper hitchin' a ride on their shoe. It's too much to bear.

Fast forward a few years to age 50 and beyond, and you will see a loss of restraint that is staggering, where women will say in front of anyone what is going on in the area that was once known as private.

I understand that not every woman suffers from this affliction, but it is rather common. Common enough that you probably have a story yourself. If you don't, I'd bet the farm that you know someone who does.

Risky Business

My tongue might fall off.

It just might.

This sauce might also burn a hole in my intestines and ruin my liver.

Then again, it might not.

I'll take that chance.

It all started at the sushi restaurant
with the spicy mayo.
Where it stop,
nobody know.

Sugarhead, The Entertainer

Sugarhead uses half words, which I cannot get my fill of. For instance, she'll say she wants to watch teev, or she wants to go to the lib (long i). That apple didn't fall far from the Let's Talk Ghetto tree.

She also loves long walks on the beach and spends her free time making up words.

My most recent favorite came last night after bath time. Let me illustrate.

"Look, Mama, look! Look at my fingers", she exclaims, spreading her little hands open for investigation. "They're all cruffled."

Cruffled -
to soak, fill, or saturate with water so as to make soggy

synonyms: water logged, prune hands

She doesn't mean to be so entertaining. She just is.

{You can't have her. She's all mine.}

Make a wish

The dandelion radiantly shining in the grass like a spark dropped from the sun.
Henry Ward Beecher

The miracles of nature do not seem miracles
because they are so common.
If no one had ever seen a flower, even a dandelion
would be the most startling event in the world.

The Lord, our God, He is splendiferous!

Famous Last Words

Not much changes around here. Whenever people ask what's been going on, the answer is typically, "nothing new".

With the exception of the occasional illness or broken household item, things are pretty consistent.

This week though, I have something new to tell.

Something I've said for the past 6 years that I would never do.

Never.

It would take a miracle of such proportions that it is inconceivable that it would ever happen.

"Never", I said.

And then God chuckled, and He giggled, and He laughed and laughed and laughed.

Because He always knows something I don't; He knows what's coming, and I don't.

Until I do.

Dude.

This year, for the first time ever, I will be homeschooling.

Yeah, let that soak in.

(Y'all. I swore I never would.)

But the times, they are a-changin'. (Sing it, Bob!)

I do not pretend to know the full-extent of God's reasoning behind all of this, but there are a few things I hope to gain from it.

There is one major thing I want for our family, and that is for us to be close-knit... for our children to be in close relationship with each other, and for them to also feel safe, close and open with us, their parents.

These desires have been in my heart, ever present, since I became The Mama.

This whole thing just makes me laugh a little. It's so typical to have things work out in this fashion -- in a way that I get what I want, but it comes in such a manner I'd never have expected!

(Kinda like in the very difficult, early years of our marriage when we had 2 kids right out of the starting blocks (and I thought our ship would sink)... but God knew exactly what He was doing, because those babies kept us together when other things fought with all their might to pull us apart, and may well have succeeded if not for them... it would've been too easy to walk away. Having them turned out to be very good for us.)

The same is true even now. There are other things fighting against me, all the time pulling at me. Developing the closeness and togetherness I want for our family takes so much effort, and so much death to my flesh.

But I want it.

... and nothing grand just happens.

Love, God

If you want to know how much I love you, count the waves.

Regret

More often than not, the sentiments I hear on regret go something like this:

"I don't regret anything. Everything I've ever done / been through has taught me a great lesson, and therefore, I have no regrets."

By definition, to regret is
1) to feel sorrow or remorse for an act, fault, etc.
2) to think of with a sense of loss.

When I look back over the course of my life, especially where I was about 10 years ago, I have a strong sense of regret. My heart is heavy with a sense of sorrow and remorse, even now. I hurt people. I did awful things that I knew would cause other people serious pain.

How can I now look at my actions and feel thankful for the "lesson" that was in it for me? That, to me, is even worse than the initial offense, which was grievous. How could I elevate some lesson over the pain I caused to someone else's heart. Who can say what difficulty they've had to endure because of my choices? Is any lesson ever worth that?

I should think not. Emphatically, I say no.

If I had it to do all over again, there are things I would do differently, and that, to me, is the essence of regret. I pray for the people that I hurt, so that their hearts can know healing and true peace... that their hearts can be healed from the pain I put there. Truly, I want it to be taken away and that they will know the love of God that is theirs in Christ Jesus.

And just for clarity's sake because I can already sense the direction of your comments, I am not talking about not being able to forgive myself or even making an effort to make restitution. I am satisfied, on both accounts, and yet, regret still remains.

So don't y'all go worrying ya little heads about me. I'm not sitting here in some depressed stupor. I just had a few thoughts on regret. That's all.

And I'm curious to know, what's your view on it?

Do you think this guy was a Boy Scout?

Hurricane season is upon us.
Thankfully, there's been nothing brewing to cause alarm.
However, if something does begin to churn out there, I don't think this guy plans to evacuate.
This, my friends, is preparedness... the likes of which I have never seen.
I like to think I've seen alot, but this.... I stand amazed.

You may recognize these pictures from my photo blog, {Verbs & Nouns}.
This is what (this) one does when (this) one is too lazy to post something else.
Besides, you may not know about my other blog, and I think we can all agree, information like this must be shared.

Let the record show, I'm only being redundant in order to better serve the people.

Lead the way and we'll precede.

I've not forgotten to tell you all about the interview that took place this morning. I am prepared to do just that. Well, semi-prepared, which is why this is going up instead... interview + pictures + links to listen will be up later!

My heart has a deep affection for people who butcher well-known clichés. Well, not so much the people, per se, but for their mangled malapropisms.

Years ago, I had a friend named Jeannie, who was hysterical all the time and I adored her. I wish I still knew her. She was truly one in a million, a diamond in the rust.

Once upon a time, Jeannie was married to a guy by the name of Mouse, who was constantly misquoting things. So much so that she wanted to write a book full of them and call it, Straight From the Mouse's Mouth. She's a genius, you say? I concur.

And now I'd like to share some of my favorite verbal blunders with you (some Mouse's, but mostly not because sadly, I cannot remember them):

• She is a real catch! A diamond in the rust. [rough]
  
• Here Dad, would you like to cut the eucalyptus cord? [umbilical] {This would be one of Mouse's gems - the only one I can recall.}
  
• Oh! It gives me the hydrostatics to such a degree! [hysterics]
• Why, murder's the matter! Slaughter's the matter! Killing's the matter! --but he can tell you the perpendiculars. [particulars]
• He had to use a fire distinguisher. [extinguisher]
• Be sure and put some of those neutrons on my salad. [croutons]
• My new coat has lots of installation. [insulation]
• He's a wolf in cheap clothing. [sheep's]
• We have just ended our physical year. [fiscal]
• What are you incinerating? [insinuating]
  

Have you heard any good ones? Do tell!! And please, use one today while you're out and about. Just for the fun of it!

In Preparation for my INTERVIEW Tomorrow

Excuse me while I have a little F R E A K O U T!

Success in contingent upon...

...your participation.

Without you, there is no game, and that is just sad. We all need word games people. Come on now! Rally your enthusiasm! Don't let the government succeed at dumbing us down!

Go ye into the world (or dictionary)(or thesaurus)(or your preferred search engine) and bring me back some gems!

Come on! It'll be fun!

Go now... go read some books.

I Yam What I Yam

I hereby retract my statement that Sweet Potato ice cream is a comfort food. After 4 bowls in 2 days, I was anything but comfortable.

You know how your Grandma used to warn you about eating sweet potatoes while nursing because it was gonna give that baby the cramps? She wasn't kidding.

I am not saying that I'm writing it off entirely, and will never eat it again. That would be ludicrous. I do not exercise that much control over tasty foods. What I am saying is this:

Don't overdo it folks -- it will make you pay.

May I Have A Word? | Chapter 2

That's what I've decided to call the new word game.

And it's that time again, so serve 'em up!

I will attempt to have these up on Mondays from here on out, which gives me the week to work in the vocabulations. Today is Tuesday, which doesn't matter in the slightest. I'll work in the words anyhow, and next week, I'll set it to post on time.

BIDNESS: Instead of linking by way of naming the person who gave each word,
I will now link your site to the actual word (like I did in the previous post).
Thank you for calling. If you have any questions, please dial information.

THANK YOU for playing...

Now, may I have a word?

Multi-Topical and Disjointed: Welcome to my head. Let me show you around.

Pneumonia: The name of the thing that seized my poor Puddin', and attempted to consume us all this week -- also the reason behind my being, well, behind in the word game, and many, many other things.

Sweet Potatoes: Used to make me hungry for November--now makes me hungry for ice cream: Sweet Potato Pie ice cream... the name of one of many things that brought us comfort this week. Thank GOD for comfort! 'Cause sometimes life is hard, y'all.

In other unrelated news,
I made an interesting discovery during our stint. I am not of the [jentacular] sort, unless, of course, coffee counts as breakfast, and in most states, it does not.

Jentacular -- Of or pertaining to a breakfast taken early in the morning,
or immediately on getting up.

However, if in the hospital, I am otherwise persuaded. See, they serve up blueberry muffins with bacon, and also, ham & cheese omelets with bacon. At home, however, laziness (my very own) serves up coffee alone... and the brewing is completely Stretch's doing. All I do is mix it how I like it. Coffee is my "bre-fryst" (as Sweet Pickle says it--which I think is infinitely better than the original). The moral of the story: If you cook it, I will eat it.

In other, other unrelated and disjointed news,
I recently had the pleasure of sharing a new word with my BFF. I learned that one of her favorite scents, the smell of rain, is called [petrichor]. I really like that word.

Petrichor -- "Smell of rain". Petrichor (from Greek petros, "stone" + ichor)
is the name of the scent of rain on dry earth.

Also, I just found a sneaky little Diet Coke hiding in the back of the fridge. Today will be a good day. Amen.

Oblivious + Idiot = Obliviot

Yesterday I took all three of the kids to Target. (I appreciate your compassion.) Halfway through loading all of our items onto the conveyor belt (which leaves me with half a cart full of other items, in case you're doing the math), a guy with a large suitcase pulls up next in line. He takes his massive luggage and plunks it onto the belt.

Are you kidding? I still have HALF A CART FULL HERE, buddy. Wanna move your luggage?

No, he doesn't. He doesn't even try to keep it from moving forward. I have to unload at mach speed to ensure I have enough space to put my things down. The check-out girl looks at him and then back at me and gives me a look that says, "Is he for real?" And with my eyes, I say, "What is happening here?"

We communicate with our eyes, me and Check-Out Girl. She feels me.

My arms were moving so fast, getting the last of my loot on the belt, that they were a blur to anyone passing by. I was practically The Flash. (Except that for me, the speed was crippling, and when I was done, I was enfeebled.)

As I'm loading my bags into my cart, no lie, the guy plops this gigantic thing onto the tiny table (where you write your checks) and FLIPS IT OPEN! Oh. Yes, he did. And you know what happened? He knocked my groceries onto the floor at this poor girl's feet.

Me and Check-Out Girl? Our eyes are BUGGING OUT! "Can you believe this guy?!"

Not one apology, y'all. Not even a nonchalant, "my bad". NOTHING. Not a sound. Not even a grunt from this apparent caveman who is not accustomed to coming out into society where OTHER PEOPLE LIVE.

Unbelievable.

And every word of it, true.

Fount Drivel. The fount of never-ceasing overflow, apparently.

Oh look! I found another lost and forgotten almost-post. How very fortunate!

What is the weirdest food you've ever eaten? Doesn't that vary according to geographical location? I mean, I eat crawfish which is not weird to me, but I won't touch grasshoppers or sheep gizzard which may be a delicacy in other countries. Weird is relative. However, in my own opinion, I think maybe the strangest thing I've eaten is kangaroo or shark, or snail.

If you were to perform in the circus, what would you do? I'd like to do the thing with the long fabrics, where you're dangling from the ceiling. If I could do that, it would mean that I was strong. And lean.

Not to mention strong.

And lean.

What article of clothing most closely describes your personality? Eaaazzzyyy. My gray sweater coat.

Who was your favorite teacher and why? Ms. Short. Or as we called her, Lt. Short. She was my English teacher, and also my Advanced Comp teacher. I have two favorite things about her. One was that every day she gave us a new Word of the Day. And maaannn, I love me some words.

The other thing was this philosophy: Show, don't tell.

This woman has shaped my life in ways that she could never know. I'd love to know her again. She was brilliant. She grew up in Pennsylvania, came from a military background and was not Catholic like most everybody else in our tiny Catholic school. She was different in every way, and I loved her for it.

Still do.

What makes you feel the most secure? Family togetherness I think.

If you had a CB radio, what would your "handle" be? Didn't even have to think about this one...

Pegacorn.

Actually, you can call me that now if you want.

Even if we're not communicating via CB radio.

Which, I don't know how we could be, seein' as I don't HAVE a CB radio. (And it's not on my wishlist, either.)

I do like that name though. I like it a great deal. I'd like to adopt it as a nick. It would undoubtedly top the list... or at least come in second, just under Jedi.

Other than material things, what do you constantly think about? What to feed my family. Which I'm not entirely sure, but that may qualify as a material thing.

What is one of the strangest southern expressions (or other idiomatic expressions) you have ever heard? My personal favorite by far, is: Well, ain't this a fine howdy doo!


Now it's your turn. Fire away.

Because why do now what you can put off until you completely forget about it?

A long day ago, (as Sugarhead says), Mama Belle passed on this award to me.

{Remember that M.B.? Because I totally forgot until I found this draft.}

10 honest things about me...

1. When I incurred this injury last December, my toes were NOT polished.
I quickly realized, however, due to all the pain (OH GRACIOUS! THE PAIN!) that I would not be able to put that thing in a real shoe and I'd have to wear flip-flops to church, on the day of our Christmas production, in which I had a cameo appearance.

It's just like that old saying goes, "Nothing says Christmas quite like flip-flops and the smell of balsam pine".

Stretch gave the last call, "Y'all ready?" and I was all, "I'll be there in a second..." because I was busy polishing my toes mere minutes before Go Time. I am nothing if not vain.

2. Sometimes I think I'd like to pierce my lip (something dainty on the side) but I don't think it would be well-received, and also, (and more importantly) I am a wuss. And a sissy. Plus it doesn't really match all of my cottage-y décor.

3. People think I can make anything, but that's not true. I made clothespin angels with the kids that totally looked like dragonflies. I made them for the sole purpose of being hung on the wall above our Nativity. Y'all all remember the dragonflies coming to visit the sweet baby Jesus right? Yeah, well, they did. Y'all just weren't there to see it.

4. I love the word stupid. What else would you call this?

5. I do not like being publicly recognized, for anything. It embarrasses me and makes me covet the ability to evaporate (but then secretly still be in the room to hear all the nice things people wanted to say about me... because despite my neurosis, I'm always dying to know what people think of me.)

6. I'm honest, and I'm okay with that... because even if it means you might get mad at me, it still makes for the most authentic relationships.

7. I am guilty of looking more at the darkness than at the stars, despite my massive blog title up yonder.

8. Whenever I take quizzes, I tend to fall smack in the middle. Right or Left-Brained? I use both equally. (Secretly though, I wish to be right-brained). Introvert or Extrovert? 56% Intro, and I'm glad to be more intro than extro. Anyway, that's just a lil' [lagniappe].

Lagniappe -- something thrown in, gratis, for good measure.

[Thanks for that word, Mike. You chose something I actually knew!]

9. I have a general distrust of people who live in trailer parks. Stupid and short-sighted perhaps, but there it is.

And finally, 10. I wrote a book, which will land me some spots on radio talking about my book. The whole thing just makes me freak out a little and reach for my deodorant. See number 5.

I'm Published! Now, go ye and make us rich!

A Review: The Night I Went to a Dance Revue

In today's post you will find these words, proffered for such a time as this
by Rachel and Jackie, whom I adore.
Good words, girls. Who knew they'd fit my week so neatly?

Demarche -- A course of action; a maneuver.

Cancatervate -- To heap into a pile.

Mulligrubs -- Ill temper; colic; grumpiness.

And now, our story.

Approximately one and one half weeks ago, my friend Cassie and I made plans to attend a dance revue together (which I referred to in an email as a dance "review").

I hang my head in shame even now.

The day of the revue (which I will never ever misspell again, ever, in addition to the word "reservoir" which may or may not have stymied my taking STATE in the '89 (or was it '90?) Spelling Bee) arrived yesterday. Plans began to fall through around three o'clock in the p.m. Stretch would have to work late so I needed a new [demarche] for childcare. Yeeha.

After casting my net for a sitter in the form of a text message blast, I came up empty. My friend Angela, who'd come over that morning for a visit/play date, offered to come back and watch the kids for me so that I could keep my date. {She's a diamond in the rust.}

The plan of action: she'd go home, get her kids bathed and fed and come back, while I did the same here.

I began filling the tub to start baths and noticed the water pressure was low. I walked out to take care of other things (which I can't recall now) and when I returned, it was down to just a trickle, so I shut it off and proceeded to [cancatervate] the children into the tub and scrub them down in just a few inches of water.

A bath is a bath.

Having spent the day laying in the sun, my skin was not ready for the public. It was overladen (read: overloaded) with layer upon layer of Banana Boat Dark Tanning Oil. Hate the feeling, love the scent. The point though, was that there was no way I could show up to the revue (not "review" you dork) like that. And I had no running water. It was so uncivilized.

Suddenly, I remembered those three gallons of water that I'd purchased last year for hurricane season, that were still sitting under the carport. There are days when being a pack rat pays off. This, being one of them.

So with a gallon of water, I:

• Brushed my teeth.
• Wet a wash cloth and gave myself a quick, make-shift gypsy bath to knock the stank off, which there was plenty of.
• Wet, washed and rinsed my filthy head - which is extremely difficult to do with a jug of water that you're trying to reserve... because it was my last. (I'd already used up the other two.) Midway through the rinse, I set the jug down on the side of the tub, but instead of setting it down flat, I put in on the towel I had draped over the side, and then in all my klutzy glory, I knocked it over onto the floor, and watched 1/4 of my last gallon of water flood the floor behind my toilet. Wunderbar.
• Enter full-blown mulligrubs, rightly defined as ill-temper, colic and grumpiness. I was heavily afflicted with all three, with the exception of the colic.
  

It's now 5 o'clock, and Angela will be here at 5:30. My kids? Hungry. My hair? In a towel on my head. The house? Utter chaos. Meanwhile, I'm having to make some calls to get help with our water sit-chee-ation. Our neighbor? Offshore. Our other neighbor? Not home from work yet, but his bride say's she'll have him stop by on his way home. "Oh good! Thank you!"

Angela arrives and kids kick energy into maximum for game of indoor hide-n-seek. Super.

Meanwhile, I'm attempting to fix my hair (which I officially suck at) and walk out to answer the phone. Puddin' wanders into the bathroom (of course he does) and wraps his tiny hand around my very hot curling iron. My next move is swift -- to the kitchen to slather his little fingers with butter (because I remember reading somewhere that that takes the sting out of burns, but he's allergic to dairy, so I sure hope he doesn't have some sort of awful reaction to it on his skin).

The next series of events unfolds something like this:

• remember first aid kit in car and rummage until finding burn gel
• neighbor shows up to look at well
  
• feel embarrassed, out of control, and guilty for having to leave this mess with my house full of people that don't live here
• people total upon departure: 11
  
• supposed to meet friends at 6:15
• the next time i look at the time, it's 6:25 and I'm still at home.
• leave home when revue is starting
• Insanity. Insanity. Insanity.

I think I started breathing normally again somewhere around 7:30 or so. After the REVUE, we went for coffee. I had a steamed milk with vanilla. That, and the sweet girl time, was just what the doctor ordered.

A game? Oh I love games! Pick me! Pick me!

This is a very exciting day because I have thought up a fun game for you to play! I'm all about the games. Playing, in all its forms, might just be my spiritual gifting. Maybe I can talk God into adding it to "the list". Doubtful, but we'll see.

Okay, so, here's how she works:
You throw out some vocabulations and in return, I will work them into my posts for the week.
How fun is that?!!
'Cause what would be more fun than playing with words?
Oh, I know!
Nothing! Hahahahaha!

Okay, so I don't really have a fancy name for it or anything like that yet. I do think I should pick a day for word offerings though. I'll come up with that later. Let's just start with today and then I'll just wing it from here.

Just for fun, I'll give you a for instance.

You might recommend a word, like, oh I don't know, agowilt, in which case I would have to grab my dictionary because I haven't the slightest what it means (but I like it anyway because I love obsolete words), and then, later in the week, because I will likely have to strain for a while, you might read a sentence that says:

The thought of using unknown words filled her at once with excitement and agowilt.

agowilt- sudden fear; sickening fear

So, we'll all learn new words in context, and I will satisfy my unswerving appetite for words! The words can be obscure, weird.... whatever. Have fun with it!

Ready set go!

Disclaimer:
Let's keep it clean, alright?
Suggestions that are not clean will be promptly deleted.
Play nice, okay? Okay. :)

It's like they're being raised by wolves.

Sugarhead to her brother: "My oatmeal... you know, that brown one? It tasted good!"

Pause. No response from Sweet Pickle.

"You wanna taste it?", she asks
(touching the corner of her mouth that hasn't yet been cleaned after breakfast).

"Lick it."

How am I ever gonna make these children into something that can be brought out into society?

Originally written 16 Mars 09

{And PS: Yes, I'm back! Hooray!}

No Restraint

Tucking Sugarhead into bed tonight for at least the 3rd time, she says,
(because she always has to say something)
"Mama, know what I want for breakfast tomorrow?"

"I don't want to talk about that right now", I say. "We'll talk about breakfast tomorrow."

"Okay." (short pause) "Toast."

Indefinite Hiatus

I'm taking a break, y'all. There are too many things in my life that need attention. Alot of attention. I am so easily and quickly sucked into this thing. This feels like a replay of the last time I took a break, and it is similar... except this time I won't be back in a week.

It's time I faced the music. I've gotta to be honest with myself and hold myself to a standard that I hold other people to, but have been unwilling to live by myself. I think they have a word for that: hypocrisy.

Continuing to spend as much time sitting at this computer as I have been... I can't justify it anymore. I'm overdoing it, and I need to step completely away for a while. Some people are able to balance this part of their life with everything else, but as for me, I have done very poorly. And I need to rectify that.

I teach my children to do the right thing because it's the right thing to do. I guess I'm back in school, relearning that lesson. Stuff is piling up around here, and I'm not just talking about the dust, dishes and unfolded clothes. My priorities are in the wrong place and it's costing me, big time. Bottom line: My house is not in order.

And I need to see about that.

I think it's important that I remind myself that this blog is not my life. It's just a blog. It's not really what's real.

The irony is that the fear of missing out on something "important" has cost me the most important thing. By putting off facing this issue that has been steadily growing and growing, I have sent the message to people I care about that this is more important to me than they are. And that is just wrong.

I don't know how long I'll be gone, but for now I cannot see an end in sight.

Thank you so much for your understanding, and for really making blogging fun for me... really. I'll miss y'all, but I'll see you when I get back!

*** I am still able to be reached by email. All comments left for me here
are sent directly to my email, so if you need me, I can still be found. ***

Thanks again all of my lovely friends!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

And, just in case you came here looking for something to read,
here are a few links to a few of my favorite posts....

A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever
I'm Outdone
I have sunk (sank) (sunken) to a new low
100 Things
I'm no flibberty-ibberty-gibbit
She saw me, and then I saw myself

Okay well, in case I don't see you... good morning, good evening and good night!

Running To and Fro & Hither and Yon

Before we get to today's post, I want to say thank you to all of you who commented on the previous one. It did just what I had hoped - raised awareness - and that makes me heap glad!

..............................................................................................................................................................

Okay. So remember the running? It has commenced. And I am loving it. For the first 3/4 mile, at least.

And then I'm more or less hating it. But somehow still loving it.

I hate it. But I love it.

And I also love fragments {and rabbit trails, evidently}.
Always love those, never hate them. Just to clarify.

In other news, my mind has been all a-clatter, trying to inwardly organize things for an upcoming event where I will be selling some of my handmades. I am mass producing for the first time ever and she do not agree with me. I'm more of a create-as-the-muse-strikes kind of girl. This whole produce-produce-produce-must-keep-producing mindset is wearing me down... making me nervous.

Generally speaking, I am not a fan of The Nervous. I find it makes it difficult to do stuff.

And I really need to be doing stuff right about now.

I set a goal though. I will use up all of the materials I have, making as many things as possible with what I have on hand. And I will do it all this week.

I'll post some pictures relatively soon.

{Ya like how I threw in that "relatively"
so as not to actually COMMIT to any set and determined time?
See? That's more my style.
To know me is to love me.
Or to be perpetually frustrated.}

One of the things I'm making {Diaper/Wiper Pouches}, I posted pictures of long ago. I'll be making a slew of those, and also something else I have a hard time labeling. They're hand-stitched, framed quotes and words.

Every time people ask what I'm making I go all dead in the eyes. I don't know what to call them.

"Hand-Stitched, Framed Quotes and Words" is a bit loquacious, don't you think? Not to mention lacklustre. And dumb.

If you name them for me, I will make all your dreams come true.

I might even build you a cake or something.

So that is it lovely people.... that's what I've been up to.
Running on my legs, and running in my brain.

I feel like a hamster. Could someone bring me a salad?

traffic

Imagine for a moment...

A university student is looking forward to her summer job placement she's been promised overseas. She and her friend travel together. They are relieved to be received at the airport by men holding signs, speaking their native tongue. They are informed that plans have changed, and instead of going to Virginia as planned, they will now be heading to Detroit, to work there and to perfect their English skills. Too tired and weary from their long flight to question the change, the girls board a bus to their new destination. When they arrive at the hotel, everything changes.

The door is closed behind them and they are told to sit down. Their passports and papers are confiscated. They are told, "you owe us big money for bringing you here". They are then handed strip clothes and informed that they will be working at a strip club called "Cheetahs" to pay back their debts.

They work 12 hour shifts and are subjected to mental, physical and sexual abuse for one year before they are finally rescued.

Now imagine that's a true story, because it is.

human trafficking:
the recruitment, transportation, harboring
or receipt of people for the purposes of labor and prostitution.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

But this is a people robbed and plundered;
they are all of them snared in holes
and hidden in houses of bondage.
They have become a prey, with no one to deliver them,
a spoil, with no one to say, Restore them!
Isaiah 42:22

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Most of the time I feel ill equipped to do anything about this issue. It is so large, and I have no formal education, you know with degrees and capital letters behind my name which qualify me to do something big... and substantial. When looking at this issue, I quickly become outraged and then frustrated, because I feel powerless to help.

Finally, I've discovered a way to help! And I do mean finally, because I feel like I've wanted to do something for so long now... even more since I first heard the words of Sara Grove's song, When the Saints...

I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down that door

There's a campaign called The A21 Campaign. In their own words, their purpose is abolishing injustice in the 21st century. Particularly in the area of human trafficking. And I think that's pretty awesome.

I cannot think of a more worthy cause.

And y'all, you know what I love... that people are catching the vision - and offering me an outlet to DO something. Tigers Against Trafficking is a group that got started - that caught the vision - and they're hosting a 5K race at the end of this month. Every single dollar they bring in will go The A21 Campaign. Every single dollar. {Follow the link for more information}

But even if you think that's not for you, don't stop reading!

Not everyone can run that race, and not everyone can donate, but everybody can do something. Something that matters. Something substantial. And it's not just for people in this area. If you live on the globe, you can help. For a full list, click here. And to see if there are other ways to get involved in your area, click here.

I want to get my hands dirty in this. I want to have a part in seeing these people delivered and restored!

And now, FINALLY, I can!

We are called, y'all. Called to care. And true compassion demands action. So that's what I'm doing.

And I am fired up!

I may run that whole 3 miles.

King of Glory, have Your glory!