My Undoing

Few things in life drive me crazy. I mean, I'm relatively a calm person. I don't get overly anxious. I don't do drama (unless you count that stint in the eighth grade). I pretty much keep it simple.

This fly, however.

This hovering, buzzing, teasing fly is going to drive me INSANE.

It taunts me as I sit on the couch. It follows me to the kitchen and wreaks havoc while my hands are otherwise occupied. It has even managed to annoy the cats.

This fly, people, has got to go DOWN.



Really? you ask.
Is this all you've got? you wonder.



Well,

I could tell you how I have roamed the house today arguing with emotions while the laundry was folded. Or I could mention the fact that I became one of THOSE people who pump gas in their pajama pants.

But then, that might make you rethink my opening remarks.

Maybe it's not the FLY making me insane.

Maybe it's life at the moment.


Nah.

It's the fly.






Absolutely.

The Calendar Shows No Mercy

Last Friday I received a somewhat frantic call from the home front that went something like this,

Our internet has been shut off.

Now I won't give away the family member with the noticeable tremor in the voice, but suffice it to say, there was the faintest whisper of terror at the suggestion of no Netflix for the weekend. I was still at work trying to get a handle on a stack of papers to grade, but I did pause for a moment to ponder the situation.

When did I last pay that bill?

Through the power of mobile banking, a quick check revealed that last time was, in fact, December.

December?

December.

No wonder they cut that baby off.

When I tell you that my life turned upside down the moment my dad left this world, I mean it. I can't seem to focus on anything of importance, I obviously have lost all track of time, and things that use to be at the top of my to-do list (paying bills, for instance) have fallen by the wayside. I think things I shouldn't, visualize things I shouldn't, and (truth be told) say things I shouldn't. It's like the back end of a roller coaster car got knocked off track and I, the only passenger, am praying like crazy that I don't go tumbling down with it. As much as I love a good thrill ride, I am ready to put this one to rest.

Needless to say, one phone call later and a rather swift withdrawal of funds through the wonder of electronic banking, our internet was back on before the signs of withdrawal became too evident and it's a good thing...

One unstable person at a time is all we can handle around here.

Signs Your Mind Might Be Slipping

This morning I sat in the midst of a huge, scrap-metal junkyard / recycling kind of place and thought to myself, "I really need to get out of the house more." I had no idea such places existed. Surrounded by massive, moving machinery and watching men in hard hats maneuver swinging cranes this way and that, the unsolicited image of Bob the Builder infiltrated my mind. I had sudden impulses to see if the bulldozers had round eyeballs where the headlights might be. I half expected Bugs Bunny to pop his head out of a hole only to duck quickly at the sight of Elmer Fudd and his rifle peeking around a mountain of metal.

I swear I'm okay, Mom.

All the sights and sounds at the junkyard did fascinate me, however. No wonder kids are so attracted to that kind of stuff, whether in real life or in the animated form. I can remember years back watching my two youngest kids sitting outside on a sidewalk, ice-cream in hand, watching the city street crews dig a trench for new water pipes. That was better than television for them. Even today, if it's got wheels and power, the oldest will pause whatever he's doing to investigate (of course, it's gotta sound like it's got power, if you know what I mean). Granted, that's in his blood. We come from a motor-oriented family.

At any rate, the weather is chilly and I'm going through the I can't stay warm mode. Pretty sad considering it's in the fifties, I think. It's the wind that does it for me. That and a lack of sunshine streaming through the windows. January has never been my favorite month. Or February. Things really don't perk up to mid-March as far as I'm concerned.... and even that seems a ways off.

This is probably why that scrapyard captivated me so.

Who wants to bet my dreams are animated tonight?

The Curse of the Opossum

I am thankful for the husband every day, but I'm especially thankful for his presence any time there's an insect problem or a backed-up sewage system or an uncooperative vehicle. As of last night, I have one more interesting item to add to the list.

A renegade opossum.

We had just went to bed when the middle knocked on our door with the unusual announcement of a opossum on the back porch. The back screened-in porch. Where the cats were. Yeah... that got our attention real quick.

He was right. As we looked out our back door, there was the freakish-looking, always-creeps-me-out, blood-red eyes of the uninvited guest looking back at us. His (her?) focus was on the cheap, dry cat food I had just put out for the cats. When the weather is nice, we will sometimes leave the indoor cats on the protected (or so we thought) back porch. Of course, there's that pesky hole that's been in the bottom of the screen door for forever, but that shouldn't have been a problem, right?

Wrong.

You can only appreciate the humor that followed if you have been there before or have a good imagination or know our family. The husband grabbed his .22 while the middle rescued the indifferent cats from whatever tragedy might have been waiting. The opossum took one look at the now-armed man and scurried through the hole by which he (she?) entered. In no time, this stealer-of-the-cat-food was cornered, angered, and was no more (and we'll interrupt this description to excuse those of you who might be horrified at the thought of one less opossum on this earth).

What was funny is the fact that just as the shot was fired, I was headed to the room of the youngest to tell her not to panic. About that time, she met me with big, questioning eyes. All I offered was a simple explanation:  Dad. Opossum. Back porch. She shrugged her shoulders in acknowledgement and headed back to bed. That made me laugh. Evidently nothing is surprising in this family. The middle assisted in the burial, the mystery of the recent trash can scavenger was solved, and we all went to bed.

Where I dreamed I was a friend of Barack Obama and a University of Georgia football fan.
And now you know why I called this little tale The Curse of the Opossum.

Horrible, horrible dreams.

Priorities

This is the day the Lord hath made, and the day that I have successfully pushed everything I wanted to do yesterday. Such a procrastinator, I am. In the next twelve hours, I am hoping to cram in quite a few things:

A muffin and coffee. Church. A visit to our southern grandma. Lunch. Laundry. Pull fall stuff from the attic. Place fall stuff around the house. Another cup of coffee. Sit on the swing. Read. Clean my bedroom. Vacuum. Grill out chicken. Clean the kitchen. Sit on the couch.

In the midst of all that, I have to mentally prepare myself for another week of substitute teaching in a somewhat challenging class, throw some bills in a hat and see who gets paid this week, and try to be a pleasant person to be around.

This is why I go to church when I could stay home and get started early.

I need all the help I can get.

Please Don't Throw Your Dirty Underwear At Your Sibling

This thought is on my mind this morning because, well... it was being tossed through the living room last night. Really? Really. How old are my kids? As I crawled back into bed after shutting the bedroom door on life as I know it, the husband looked at me with one eye (while the other was kept closely trained on the laptop) and said, "Trouble in paradise?"

I know, I know. These days will pass and I'm sure I'll miss them terribly.

Maybe.

I think everyone around here is starting to crack under the end-of-the-school-year pressure. The oldest has all of his senior stuff, of course, and he was pacing the floor last night waiting for an exam score to be posted online. If all goes well, as he puts it, today will be his last official day of high school. Next week is Senior Week, the whole week off from work, and the BIG graduation day.

The middle is just trying to survive the next week, I think. His mind is already on next year. The youngest is swamped in end-of-the-year projects that make no sense to me. She's had three or four going on at the same time to go along with all the studying she's been doing. There's an award ceremony tonight that I think in her mind is just one more thing she has to do. Like I said, end-of-the-year pressure.

But then, there IS next week. I absolutely cannot wait and neither can they. The grandparents are coming out and all will be right with the world. I am positively certain there will be no dirty underwear issues while they are here.

I hope.

Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled ~ John 14:1

This time last month I was resisting the urge to turn on the a/c (a urge which I eventually lost by the 16th or so). This month I have been fighting the coolness of the house in a steadfast refusal to turn back on the heat. I lost that battle today when I kicked on the fireplace. Crazy weather. It's not that it's cold outside. It might be seventy out right now, but the nights have been downright chilly. From what I hear from others across the country, this up-and-down weather pattern is the same everywhere. Oh well. It won't be long till we're roasting in one-hundred degree temps that won't let up. At least that's the normal way of summer. Who knows with this year. I use to say midwestern weather was unpredictable. Now I say it's that way in the south. I'm thinking maybe this craziness is the new normal for everywhere.

Today our community is hosting the funeral of a fifteen-year old who attended our kids' high school... he drowned on Easter Sunday. This morning I read in our local news of a nineteen-year old who was killed by a manufacturing accident as he began his work day. The middle told us a story of a six-year old that was killed in a freak accident while with his dad. The youngest recalled a news story she just read of a newborn being found alive in a hospital morgue. Evidently it's not just the weather that is crazy.

Oh, and today is my first day of cutting back on the coffee.

Craziness everywhere.

Planning My Funeral At The DMV

While spending an hour and a half in our local DMV completing the tedious task of renewing and exchanging plates, my husband and I covered a multitude of conversational topics. We talked about taxes and politics, kids and supper ideas, and the annoying woman in the back who would not stop complaining about how long everything was taking. While the rest of us were thinking, Join the club, lady, the employee behind the counter patiently reminded her, No profanity in this office, please. Eventually our conversation turned to the unavoidable end of life on earth as we know it, and I'm sure we were entertaining those around us as much as the still complaining lady in the back.

I want you to bury me in my uniform, said the husband, referring to his military Class A's. Not on your life, said I. That uniform stays with me.

I want to be buried in that uniform, period, he said. Fine, but the ribbons and badges come off before they put you in the ground. You gotta have something to pass down through the generations, was my response. Nope. Everything goes with me. I've seen that stuff in flea markets before. It goes with me, he insisted.

So be it, I sighed. Then the wedding ring stays with you, too.

Oh no, he said. You keep that. Don't put me in the ground with that thing on.

It is so staying on, I assured him. Till death do us part and beyond, buddy.

He looked at me and winked and mumbled something about never being rid of me. Meanwhile, I got to thinking about my own closet and what in the world I would be buried in. I mean, technically, I'm all for cremation, but that topic has stirred up more than enough trouble with those around me. Suffice it to say, if I go before anyone who has other plans, it will make no difference what I would prefer and really... I'm okay with that. I suppose a funeral is mainly for the living anyway, isn't it? No sense creating more havoc during a time that has enough difficulties of its own. At any rate, I mentioned that nothing in my closet that looked nice would fit me at this point. 

What would I be buried in? 

Not my own military uniform. That thing should be preserved for posterity's sake (and besides, the collar drives me crazy. No one would ever believe I looked at peace while wearing that). Not my black suit. Too tight. Jeans and a t-shirt? Comfy, but no. Look, said the man of compassion,  I'll just put a pink top on you with a pink sweater and you'll be happy. (This was said to score brownie points at the remembrance of my favorite color). I don't know, I said, that's just too big of a chance to leave it up to you. After all, I've dealt with my fair share of questionable birthday and Christmas gifts.  I thought about it some more and then a picture popped into my head.

My wedding dress! Bury me in my wedding dress!

He looked at me like I had lost my mind and then started laughing.

Yeah, I can see you wanting that.

I love that dress, I insisted.

I know you do, but your wedding dress? Bet that would be a first.

And fluff it up all around me, I told him.  It'll look like I'm floating on a cloud. Might as well make a statement and besides, I always have wanted to wear it one more time. Just do what you have to to make it fit.

So there you have it, kids.

Dad in his uniform. Mom in her gown.

End it like it all started.

*And yeah... I would rather my daughter or granddaughter or somebody wear my wedding gown rather than stuffing it in a pine box, but hey, it made for a good conversation. Anything to pass the time at the DMV. =)

Roller Coaster Life

I love roller coasters, but I hate the height part of it. You know that clackety-clack sound that takes you to the tip-top part of a coaster? To me, that's the worst part. That and the eerie silence that coincides with the end of that clackety-clack sound. The tell-tale moment when the last car loses contact with the chain that sends the whole contraption plummeting down through twists and turns and speeding its way to no return... well, to the end of the ride anyway. The anticipation. The actual event. And the feeling at the end that cries, "I did it!" Ahhhh... makes me want to go ride one now even though I'm no where near one. I guess I'm thinking of roller coasters because that's how the day has been. Up and down. A twist here and a turn there.

Peaceful breakfast at a local place.
Stressful drive through the projects of downtown.

Relaxing five-minute nap on the couch.
Aggravating tax bill in the mail.

Joy at application for graduation notice.
Sadness at fee required for that application.

And so the day went, kinda back and forth for much of it. I took a two-hour exam that kept me in my seat for that full two hours... who cares if I really needed a bathroom break due to all the coffee I drank to prepare me for that exam. By the time I finished, my bangs were sticking straight up from the all the pulling of my hair that took place (so much for fixing it), my wedding rings were off because I can't stand jewelry when I'm hot or stressed (little tidbit for ya), and I had no time to spare before I headed to school for the daily kid- pick up (i.e. no time to hit the restroom).

Forty minutes later, back at the house, and all necessities taken care of,  I dyed a girl's beautiful head of hair her selected (temporary) color. We converted the front porch to a mini-salon, applied the color in the sunshine, and set the timer. All that effort and we're pretty sure it's the exact same color, maybe a little lighter. Oh well. Her hair smells like coconuts and reminds me of the beach. I'm debating if I would like to make a day trip there tomorrow just because. As much as I love roller coasters, I love the beach better. It's either that or the museum. Anything to get me away from a laundry basket and the computer.

The husband has taken care of getting me away from the kitchen. He took one look at me (after finding my wedding rings on the desk) and announced it would be a good night for pizza. And thanks to google and a little quick research, the youngest announced that one of my favorite clothing stores is near the museum. Combine that with a little birthday cash I've had stashed, and that plan might just beat out the beach. Come to think of it, I really don't care which direction I go as long as I go somewhere different. That's kind of the  fun with roller coasters, too. You go all different directions, but know exactly where you'll end up.

For me, I'll end up right back here.
On the couch. With the computer.
Serenaded by the oldest on the guitar.

No chicken exit in sight.

Really?

From my front porch seat today, I have read stories about

(click on links to read):

parents locking lips with their teenagers for fun;
the danger (?) a Tim Tebow Superbowl win could bring to the non-Christian world;
and controversial pictures of tiny hands and feet.

I am disgusted, confused, and amazed (and yes, in that particular order).
I really can't think of anything else to say.

Except the weather is beautiful from where I sit.
I would never kiss my child like that whether in public or private, joke or not.
I seriously doubt a Superbowl win by the Denver Broncos would incite Christian rioting.

And I wish I had pictures of tiny hands and feet of our lost baby.

I like to read news stories from a variety of sites;

 all three of these were found on The Blaze.

And for my own reasons, comments for this entry have been disabled.

See you next time!

Seven Minute Recap...

Cause I'm killing the light at ten o'clock.

1. Woke up with a smile.
2. Waved goodbye to kids.
3. Made some coffee.
4. Read my bible.
5. Talked to my dad.
6. Got a sick call from school.
7. Picked up a girl.
8. Went to doctor.
9. Picked up more kids.
10. Made it back home.

Yeah. Pretty typical, ordinary kind of day. I'm thinking I should have just called it a day then and went to bed early because shortly after 5:30 p.m., the remote went missing and over four hours later, I still have no clue where it went. The fridge is acting up, first the freezer side and now the refrigerator side. I have no clue why.

And I still can't find my nook charger.

Is it Friday yet?

Dear World (Take 2),

Well, I gotta admit, when I wrote that Don't Mess With My Monday entry just a few days ago, I had no idea that the world (and Monday) were about to fight back. Yes, I did get the laundry done and the house got cleaned, but sometime after four that afternoon I ended up flat on my back in the middle of an asphalt driveway and everything came screeching to a halt.

So what do the uninsured do? They pick themselves up and pray for healing. At least that's what I did. A quick internet search suggested that I probably suffered something of a mild concussion and though I am loathe to search any medical diagnosis online (they all lead to death, you know), I had to agree that this one was probably right on the money. My vision was not blurred and I wasn't sick to my stomach, so I figured we could save the trip to the emergency room, take Tylenol as directed, and all would eventually be well.

Then Tuesday morning rolled around. Might I say I whimpered like a baby most of that day?  I couldn't move, couldn't eat, couldn't think. My head hurt, my back hurt, and I swear even my pinky finger hurt. The husband suggested the ER more than one time and more than one time I said, Let's just give it another day. I dined on ginger ale and saltine crackers and when the man of the house wasn't around, depended on that other man of the house (aka the oldest) to help his poor mama out of bed. What a mess! I have never (birthing three children included) felt as bad as I did that day.

Wednesday proved hopeful when I could actually crawl out of bed on my own accord. Although ginger ale and crackers still remained my meal of choice, by the evening a pizza was actually sounding good. Even though I slept most of the day anyway, I had no trouble sleeping that night. This morning showed more promise as I woke up and could actually wave goodbye to the kids from the front porch. Yes, I immediately went back to bed, but three hours later I awoke with some serious hunger pains and only a slight headache. Tonight I can actually stand the backlight of the computer and seeing as how I've already gotten a few of those looks from the kids (the do your homework look, that is), I think things are finally getting back to normal.

And normal sure feels good, even if my head is still a little sore.

So there you have it. You can think you've got something conquered (like a Monday) and then everything changes. One thing about it, being down for the count makes you appreciate all those good days you took for granted. I'm going to have a busy day tomorrow playing catch-up with everything that got put on the back burner this week, but I'm looking forward to it just the same.

And a few final thoughts:

To my mom and dad, I'm sorry I didn't call you right away, but you know how it is... I always hate to worry you all. What I would have given, though, to have my mom taking care of me that awful Tuesday. I will never be too old to need my parents.

To my friend who is taking care of her own daughter right now, I will be glad when you are back. Enough said.

And to any of you out there who may have your own concussion horror stories to share, please don't. If I want to get freaked out, I've got the world wide web.

As always, thanks for reading. =)

Dear World,

Not today.

You are not gonna have me today.

I know things look kinda shaky. I stayed up late waiting on - - -

{This reading is interrupted to point out if you've read this before, yes, a portion of this

 particular  blog entry has been removed due to my belated better judgment.

 Ahhhh... the beauty of a delete button.}

And to everyone who is tired of hearing me go on and on and on about this... well, I guess there are other things to read out there. My next big dilemma will be the prospect of going on for a master's degree. Maybe I'm just afraid I won't be able to find a job. Anyway, if this topic bores you to no end, join the long line of already bored people called my immediate family. My children's eyes form an instantaneous glazed-over, bored look at the first mention of Can you BELIEVE what I have to do this week? The husband is the only one who really has to pretend interest. This was his idea afterall. His support is not up for negotiation.

Another thing trying to bring me down this morning was my beloved children. Oh, I know it is a Monday and they stayed up too late and sometimes mornings just stink. I understand the longing to keep the feel of cold, hard cash in your pocket and thinking life is not fair and wishing your siblings would just talk nice. I really do get it, but life and the school bell waits for no one. I considered jumping the car and driving them all to school to remind them who's the boss, but let's face it: I really didn't want to get out of my pajamas. No, I'm not lazy. I'm just practical. If they're mad at me there's no sense subjecting them to another ongoing lecture that can outlast three stoplights. Besides, there's always the ride home.

I'm gonna wrap this up and kick on the tunes. I've got all day to spread a little sunshine in my life via the washing machine and vacuum cleaner. My first cup of coffee is kicking in and things are looking up already. There are some bright spots to the day:

The Falcons won last night.

And at least one kid smiled at me.

I'm taking my Monday back.

(Let's Not Give This One A Title)

Today I woke up in time to get ready for church.
And decided I wasn't going.
Then thought I probably should.
And later regretted it.

It has just been one of those days.

The weather is hot. My mood is swinging. I'm thirsty at the moment, but have no desire to make yet another pitcher of sweet tea. Pictures of graduating seniors belonging to people I graduated with have been filling my facebook newsfeed. I'm happy for them; unfortunately, it all makes me feel old and I've grown weary of the smiling faces.

The grumpy dwarf?
Maybe, but stick around.
Chances are I'll be happy by the time this is finished.
A small chance, mind you, but it's still there.

I think all that nonsense about the end of the world yesterday has kinda zapped me. Sometimes I think, No, no... not yet, and then other times I think, NOW would be good. We watched the latest Chronicles of Narnia release last night and I actually sat on the couch fighting back tears. I mean, seriously, to stand on the outskirts of heaven? How could anybody want to return? I know, I know... there's purpose and all that, but good golly, that was a beautiful moment.

And for the record, I didn't think the world was going to end yesterday. I don't want anybody thinking that I'm all depressed cause I'm still here or anything like that. I think most of us understand the Bible is pretty clear on the subject of His return... I just feel kinda blah today, and for no good reason. My husband will look at the calendar with a knowing look in his eyes. Whatever. Sometimes he's just too observant.

I do want to thank everyone that reads these rambles from time to time. I get the nicest comments from people all across the country and around the world. (Do you sense the mood change here?) There's a whole community of people that I never knew existed. We write about everyday stuff... sometimes it's deep and meaningful, and sometimes it's not; but the one common theme that always rings true is it's all about life:

Gardening. Shopping. Kids. Spouses.
Nice grocery store clerks. Not-so-nice grocery store clerks.
Weather. Politics. Idiot drivers.
Jobs. School. Broken down cars.

Which reminds me, our fuel pump is making that annoying buzzing sound again. We've got a braces payment due in two weeks along with the electric and car and insurance and whatever else might creep up. And the job I've been waiting to hear about? Well, I'm still waiting. Lucky for me, though, I can take a hint. Mama didn't raise no fool.

And I think we're back to being grumpy.
Or maybe just happy.
Grumpy-Happy.
Cause you might as well laugh.

The joy of the Lord is my strength. (Nehemiah 8:10)

Of course, a Starbucks probably wouldn't hurt either.

I mean, surely the Lord would delight in a caramel macchiato.

And I bet He wouldn't order the skinny version either.

He's my kind of KING.

Do you see why I didn't give this one a title? It was all over the place.

My apologies. Just say a prayer for my family, okay?

I'm sure they would appreciate it. :)

I'll Apologize In Advance

This is going to be a random rant of the things that get on my nerves. I'm sorry, but it's got to be done. I have a very nice evening planned and I worry that if I don't vent at this very moment, I might not make for pleasant conversation later. I promise that this won't get nasty or rude (much), but if you want to move on at this point for more pleasant things to consider, please feel free. I'll never know.

I saw a kid at Walmart today wearing a t-shirt that proudly proclaimed, Blame It On My Parents. I didn't know who I wanted to shake more~ the kid who will no doubt blame it on his parents, or the parents that let him wear that shirt to begin with.

In another aisle, I couldn't get through. A minimum of four people were arguing in something other than English while another bystander talked on the phone about something that had nothing to do with the forty different jars of spaghetti sauce she was examining. On the way out, a small toddler was clutching a cart while stomping her feet and crying loudly while the lady with her carried on her own conversation on the phone.

Just another Saturday at an overly crowded neighborhood Walmart.
I know better than to get out on a day like today.
Maybe I'm just mad at myself.

I'm also growing weary of Facebook. Well, maybe not so much Facebook, but just the never ending abundance of personal information that some people think everybody in their virtual world needs to know. Am I going too far here? Sometimes I literally wait for someone to update their status with the announcement that they are entering the bathroom. And then maybe update what they did in there. Lord help us all if they decide to tag a picture of that one.

And yes, I will post this to Facebook like I always do on the premise that my mom is my biggest fan. And no, I won't deactivate my Facebook account, although if I trim my friend list any more, it will be down to my immediate family of four (the husband avoids any kind of social network like the plague) and my mom and brother. And probably my friend down the street and a few from back home. That would leave me with a total of ten friends and a whole lot of what's the point in this? I guess I'll leave things alone and just continue to sort through the stuff of everybody's everyday life. On the plus side, I might have an idea who follows me through Facebook if my friend list started decreasing on its own.

Of course, that would be sad, too.
Now I have guilt.
Maybe I should blame it on my parents.

To-Do List

My husband noticed this list when he sat down at the computer. Wow, he said. This could qualify for a full-time job. He truly is an observant man.

Crazy Tow Truck Guy Driver

I very nearly came close to death today. Well, maybe not that close, but close enough for me to thank the Lord for everything He's given me and to ask Him to please, please, please take care of my kids. That's close enough for me.

Where was I? you might ask.
What was I doing? would be a good question.

Answer? I was riding in a tow truck with our broken down truck behind me, sitting in the middle with no seat belt, inches away from the windshield with the driver sitting next to me texting away. Texting. One hand on the phone; one hand on the stick-shift thing. I think he was using his knees to steer. Oh, and he was talking and laughing the whole time with my husband who was happily swapping childhood stories with him. Obviously I was the only one aware of how close to death we actually were.

Well, I take that back. My husband was all too aware of my fingernails digging into his leg. He told the kids about that part later and for the record, he did agree with me. That guy was crazy.

Nice.
Very polite.
Knowledgeable about his job.

But crazy.

Life is indeed a very sweet thing.