Ice, Earthquakes, And A Wake-Up Call

Okay.

So I live in a part of the country where people tend to panic at the first sight of a snowflake. Flurries are breaking news and schools shut down at the mere mention of possible icy roads. We've got our quirks, that's for sure. As someone who grew up in the Midwest, I have often found great humor at the sight of southern belles wearing their fur-lined boots in sixty-degree weather. I have shook my head more than once at the sheer panic that breaks out when the phrase "wintry mix"' enters the forecast.

I gotta say, I'm not laughing anymore.

We got hit hard with an ice storm earlier in the week that still has thousands of people without power. I've seen tornado damage on more than once occasion; what I have seen driving around the last few days rivals that same sort of devastation, let me tell you. No, there are no empty foundations or mile-wide paths of destruction... just trees down everywhere. Hundred-year old trees, beautiful live oak trees, majestic pine trees... broken, splintered, snapped. Piled up alongside the roads, in the roads, precariously perched on rooftops.

I have seen convoys of electric trucks from at least four different states. I was stopped in traffic by the Air National Guard as they removed a huge tree from the road. I've seen random citizens direct traffic at the many stoplights that are still not functioning.

And to top it all off, we experienced an earthquake last night. Not severe enough to do any kind of damage, but just so you know, in case you've never felt the earth shake, a 4.1 will rattle the walls as it rumbles beneath you. Very eerie, indeed.

I ventured out today only to discover gasoline is virtually non-existent on my side of the river. I felt lucky to find a package of chicken at Walmart. It really does make you stop and think...

We have been so blessed in our part of the world. We truly are a pampered, spoiled people. Now I'm not saying we're not grateful or ignorant of what we have; but my goodness, how fortunate we are! I was whining earlier in the week at the lack of electricity to power up my Keurig. Now I'm just thankful to have electricity.

Nothing like getting your perspective changed.

Good Morning! Now Can I Go Back To Bed?

Maybe it was the coffee I had at four in the afternoon.
Or the chocolate milk I had at nine in the evening.

The melatonin I took at ten certainly did no good.

I have been up the entire, blessed night. Not a wink of sleep. None. Zero. Zilch. I absolutely hate it when this happens. I am most definitely a sleep person. I go to bed early. I sleep late when I can. I nap as often as an opportunity will present itself. Back in the days of the classroom, I've been known to close the door, hit the light, and stretch on the floor behind my desk. Sleep is a priority to me. I know the health benefits. I think better. I probably look better.

So when I can't sleep, my entire world threatens to crumble.

I am not my grandma. She would be up cleaning or canning or doing something when sleep would flee. I am not my daughter. She would have already had a quilt block finished or embroidered a pillow or something of creative value. That is so not me. All I can do is bemoan the fact that I cannot sleep to no one other than myself.

I was going to get up at three and work on school work, but my eyes did not appreciate the light. I started a fire and envisioned myself sleeping on the couch like I often do with the cats by my side. The cats loved it, but the flickering of flames in an otherwise dark house did not do well even with my eyes shut. I am evidently just too darn picky.

So here I sit, twelve minutes away from my weekly alarm breaking the silence. I am trying to stay positive because the youngest mentioned to me after my last blog post that I have been getting rather depressing. I don't know what to tell you, girl. Sometimes that is just how this momma gets. Even so, I have been picking up my bible more and thinking about the goodness of the Lord.

For He is good... even on the nights I cannot sleep.

Here's to another Monday. And coffee. I should be on my third cup by nine.

Do Demons Chase You?

Okay, so not the most encouraging title, but I wonder if it got your attention. It really is a question, by the way. I don't throw things out there just to watch it wither. But anyway...

Another week down. I had a few comments on my previous post from last week that caused me to look back to see,

Just exactly what did I write?

I do tend to ramble on at times, although if you've been with me since the beginning you can recognize that my ramblings have become more spaced out over the years. I figure you can only ramble on about any one thing so many times. Even I grow weary of the thoughts in my head.

We managed to gather the family around the table twice this past week. A remarkable feat considering nobody seems to be in the same place at the same time. The youngest surprised me mid-week with a clean house and folded laundry. In fact, it was a pretty decent week until I got hit over the head with a two-by-four of aggravation. It started Wednesday night and ran for a straight twenty-four hours. In the wee hours of Friday morning as a debilitating headache began to overtake any chance of reasonable functioning, I found myself asking the Lord a lot of whys and whens, questions in which He rarely answers me. As my eyes finally closed, I wondered where my bible was as demons and ghosts chased me through my dreams.

Hey, I'm just here to make you feel better about yourself, remember?

This life is a funny thing. I make a few steps forward only to be tossed back about ten. I fill my head with stories I could write only to never put them to paper- and please, do not encourage me here. There may come a time, but now is not the time...

Unless I figure out a really good pen name and a way to cover my virtual tracks. Stranger things have happened.





P.S. Love you, Mom. Praying you feel better soon. =)

Winter Blues

My one chance to sleep in this week and I'm wide awake. I'm stressed from the work week, stressed from the decision to start graduate school, and stressed about the cats needing food and litter this week. Thank goodness I picked up some awesome coffee creamer the other night. The thought of it was the one thing that motivated me this morning.

We had a winter blast in our neck of the woods this past week. In fact, three days later, there are still random patches of snow on the ground where the sun doesn't shine. I've said it before and I'll say it again, the cold is one thing I do not miss about my beloved home. I think the snow is pretty as it's falling and when it has completely covered the ground- stumps and all, it truly is a sight to behold. After that, though, I'm done with it. Bring on the sunshine and flip flops, please.

A rare picture of my childhood sled with actual snow in the background.

Maybe it's this cold weather that has me down. I certainly do function better when I can sit on my front porch with the sun streaming down. The forecast shows nothing but clouds for the next few days. Football is practically over. I've not started any good books lately, and now I've got papers to write. Our family rarely sits at the table together anymore.

I'm in desperate need of a visit home.

Even so,

The sun will shine. March Madness is coming.
I have a ton of unread books. Papers I can handle.

Dinner at the table I can demand.

Spring Break is the perfect opportunity to drive.



We just gotta make it through February.

Why Is My Hair Orange?

I decided that today was as good as day as any to color away my gray. Once upon a time, you couldn't find my natural color in a bottle; nowadays there's a couple that are pretty darn close. Me being me, however, I thought we'd take it a notch or two darker (don't tell my dad). I sit here now... hair completely saturated, scalp burning slightly, stench in the air.

Oh, to be a female.

On the plus side, I have at least fifteen uninterrupted minutes to sit on the edge of my bed and peck out a few rambling thoughts. Trust me, nobody wants to see me parade through the house right now. It's better we keep this side of womanhood hidden from the innocent. Besides, the husband will brave the elements soon enough to make sure I have not dribbled any hair color on the tile while looking at me in amused wonder.

Oh, to be a male.

I've been thinking about the children a lot lately and wondering if I have done all I could do to prepare them for life. I've become something of a slacker in my midlife; I'm only hoping I was as dedicated as I like to pretend I was when I was younger. The middle reminded me the other day of how I use to always tell them their words had power- that's biblical, you know- and the oldest reminded all of us of how I used two plants as a lesson to them. No kidding here... the one we spoke "life" to flourished and the poor sap we spoke "death" to did not stand a chance. Funny how I don't remember that, but they do. Time has an odd way of picking and choosing memories.

At any rate, here all three of them stand just itching to fly the nest. I don't take it personally, I take it pridefully. Wait. Does that sound right? What I mean to say is I know they're not counting the hours to get away from me (I hope); I know they are counting the hours to try it on their own and in that, I take great pride.

But boy, will I miss those little people.

Did I rock them enough? Did I provide enough milk and cookies? Did I sing them enough songs, color with them enough, read to them enough? Did my good words outweigh the bad thoughts? Did I provide enough hugs? Enough band aids? Enough amusement? I know I was hard on them at times- I was their teacher for a while, you know. I also know reinforcements were called in from the father on more than one occasion. In case you haven't figured it out, parenting does take two. I don't ever want them to think they can tackle that life event on their own.

Good Lord, have we done enough?
Thank goodness they are HIS anyway.

With that in mind, what do I have to fear?
Except an empty lap. An empty table. An empty bed.

Sheesh. If this is what happens when I time the color on my hair, maybe I would be better of to stick with the gray... and now I'm making myself laugh.

It must be the fumes.

Brace For Impact

Earlier today I read a facebook comment directed at me from a former student and I'm not ashamed to admit, it hit me hard. No, it wasn't bad or mean or sarcastic, just a simple note that warmed my heart and turned it to mush. After taking a moment to compose myself in the bathroom (hey, who doesn't utilize that quiet space?), I asked the Lord for forgiveness for my self-centeredness of late and thanked Him for the people He has put in my life.

My grandma. We all know that.
My mom and dad. I couldn't ask for better.
My brother. The husband. The three ducklings.

My fourth-grade teacher. She's the reason I wanted to teach.
My high school friends. The reasons I survived a small town.

The drill instructor in basic training who yelled at me in the midst of a rather difficult obstacle course. That yelling is what made me mad enough to fuel a successful finish.

Neighbors, past and present. Friends, old and new. Family, far and near.

I gotta tell you, though, as crazy as it may seem, it's those younger ones who have impacted me the most. The third and fourth graders who let me play cowboy songs to teach them states and capitals. Fifth and sixth graders who let me sing silly songs to teach them verbs and prepositions. Seventh and eighth graders who rolled their eyes (but couldn't help but smile) when I would act like a fool to teach them complex diagrams.

The kids I've had the privilege of seeing graduate.
My own kids who I've had the privilege to teach.

I'm telling you right now, I've had it good. No matter what the future may hold, the people who have impacted me have made the journey thus far pretty darn sweet. I think if we could all grasp that and hold onto it, our influence on the world around us would make more of a bang.

Imagine the impact that would be.

Being A Life Coach Is NOT On My Resume

A new calendar is on the fridge. It's a Gary Patterson... we do the same cat theme practically every year. Can't risk shaking things up too much.

The youngest asked me earlier if I do New Year's resolutions.

The answer?

Nope. Notta. Not worth the pressure.

I'd like to lose weight. I'd like to read more. I'd like to watch more basketball. I'd like to be a better wife, mother, friend. I'd like to read my bible more, pray more, give more. I'd like to be nicer, friendlier, happier. More optimistic. Less negativity. Cook more, clean more, walk more. 

A whole lotta MORE.

But you know what? I am who I am and to be perfectly honest, no one has ever accused me of having too much ambition. Let's face it, here I sit on this computer, in a recliner, the Wisconsin/South Carolina football game winding down. I have floors to clean, fans to dust, and papers to sort.

And most likely none of it will happen.

Oh, I have tackled laundry like a champ and managed to declutter my dresser, but other than that, my cleaning spree is about to come to an end. I'm in the midst of a good series on Netflix so even though reading is a passion of mine, the book has literally been put on a shelf for now. Papa John's did the cooking today. My bible has yet to be opened.

No wonder I don't do resolutions.

Nevertheless...

Happy New Year!

I'm all for new beginnings, even if I don't make promises to myself that I could never keep. Don't think of it as low expectations... think of it as a reality that I refuse to deny. I'll get where I'm going, one Gary Patterson calendar at a time.