I'm a wife. I'm a mother. I'm a step-mom. I spend most of my time grumbling and/or doing laundry. I love to read, talk, garden and vacuum. I don't have an opinion on everything but I can form one in about thirty seconds.
So Easy, A Wreckerator Couldn't Do It
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Don't worry, bakers; today's decorating challenge is SUPER easy. I'll even
walk you through it!
Now, are you ready?
Annnnd... [starting timer]... *go!*
...
Hours the thirteenth through eighteenth.
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And thence to bed.
I got really wrapped up in The Trespasser. SOMEBODY HERE IS CROOKED. And my
copy is trade paperback, so the pages take forEVER to read ...
An appreciation: Pat Summitt
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Growing up in middle Tennessee, Pat Summitt has been a legend as long as I
can remember. Winning a national championship in 1987 showed the nation
what w...
Let me try to explain this book. Henry is a 'practice baby' at a university in the 1960's. Apparently this was a real thing in the world. Several Home economics programs (Did you know that I was a home-ec Major my first year in college? True story.) had homes set up wherein they had orphaned infants that were raised by groups of college girls for about two years. After that, the babies were adopted by 'real' families. Henry is one of these babies. But he is so irresistable the stodgy house mother who never gets attached to the house babies falls completely in love with him and adopts and raises him in the practice house.
So I figured the book would be about how Henry grows up to be a womanizer. The author spends a ridiculous amount of time discussing Henry's need to please each of his practice 'mothers' and how he is incapable of choosing a favorite in any situation. That's not really how it went down though. Henry grows up, hates his adopted mom(for no real good reason?)pretends to be mute for a few years, becomes an artist, goes to work at Walt Disney, and dates a few girls. 4 to be exact. Maybe I am just jaded. But I don't think 4 girlfriends spanning between adolescence and your mid twenties grants you man-whore status. Am I wrong here?
Anyway, I love the idea of this book. I love that I had no idea such a lifestyle ever existed. But, honestly, I found Henry to be a pretty resistable character.
I am now going to admit my dirty little secret to you.
I am so sick of the pumpkin patch. There. I said it.
I am still keenly aware of what a blessing it is to be a stay at home mom who has the ability to go on field trips. I was only able to do this with Savannah and Kaylee a handful of times. I missed a lot and it broke my heart. That being said...I still hate the pumpkin patch. In my defense, I have gone three years in a row. It's always the same. 6 hours in a field with a bunch of kids bored outta their dang minds. Also, sometimes there are port-a-potties which makes the whole experience mo better.
I post this video almost every year. I have to do it in case any of you have missed it. You need to listen to this version of this song...daily. Probably for the rest of your stinkin life. And don't stop 3 minutes in. The last minute and thirty seconds are good enough to make a Baptist dance. Trust me here.
And to any of you who would complain that is to early for Christmas music.
1. Bite me. 2. My aunt Lana says that the weekend of Christmas Village is the official kickoff to the Christmas music season. I don't know why she is in charge of this but she is. Just accept it and move on.
Also, this is probably as good a time as any to tell my David Phelps story. I have been a huge fan of him for probably ten years. (If you never listen to any kind of Christian music, chances are good you have no idea who he is. It's nothing to be ashamed of, I just feel so bad that you have wasted so much of your life.) His voice to me is really beyond any other vocalist I have ever heard. Listening to him makes me feel like I am taking the perfect bubble bath. From me, this is the highest praise.
So... once upon a time, my husband left me with three kids and I was forced to leave my domestic headquarters and get a 'real' job. I found said job at a hospital. I can't tell you where I worked but let's just say that people came there for voice training, care, etc. One of the employees there was a voice teacher ( aPhD!) who worked with a lot of big stars. Not so much to fix anything wrong with their voices but, often, just to help them take better care of their 'instrument'. So one horrible day I was at work. I was in my tiny 3 wall office leaning my head against the outer wall in abject despair. I was just as sad as I could ever remember being. And the worse part was that I could not envision ever not being sad again. I don't know how long I had sat there wallowing in that state when I heard the voice. Drifting through those flimsy walls from the voice doctor's office to mine was David Phelps...singing.
I'm sure, if you are a skeptic, that you could never believe that God would arrange events to bring Mr Phelps to this specific place at that specific time just to give me a much needed 'boost'. But I believe that is exactly what happened. You just cannot imagine how much God loves me (he feel the same about you). It's just the kind of thing He would do.
And, no, I didn't get up from that desk and find my whole life changed in an instant. I still had a cruddy job, a mind numbing commute and a crappy minivan. I would live many years after that day still alone and sad. But that miraculous serenade proved something very important. I knew then and still that God sees me. He doesn't just love and think about me. He sees me. And that's a revelation that changed my life.
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be divorced? This, to me, is akin to wondering "What would it be like for the person I love most in this world to run over me with a semi truck daily for about ten years or so?" That is to say divorce is never something I contemplated until I experienced it. Nora Ephron (I love her so much, don't you?) has put words to almost all my feelings about divorce. You can(and should) read the whole thing here.
But here are some of my favorite parts.
But when you've had children with someone you're divorced from, divorce defines everything; it's the lurking fact, a slice of anger in the pie of your brain.
This is so true. I have no words to explain how much.
Of course, there are good divorces, where everything is civil, even friendly. Child support payments arrive. Visitations take place on schedule. Your ex-husband rings the doorbell and stays on the other side of the threshold; he never walks in without knocking and helps himself to the coffee. In my next life I must get one of those divorces.
Me too, Nora. Me too.
But I can't think of anything good about divorce as far as the children are concerned. You can't kid yourself about that, although many people do. They say things like, "It's better for children not to grow up with their parents in an unhappy marriage." But unless the parents are beating each other up, or abusing the children, kids are better off if their parents are together.
Every one of you know this is true also. Even if you think you disagree, you are just deluding yourself.
Divorce seems as if it will last forever, and then suddenly, one day, your children grow up, move out, and make lives for themselves, and except for an occasional flare, you have no contact at all with your ex-husband.
Merciful and loving God...please let her be right about this.
"Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself."
How long will you love delusions and seek false gods? Psalm 4:2
God is not OK with you.
He loves you but...
He is definitely not OK with you.
Before you grab your torches and pitchforks, let me make something clear. God's not OK with me either.
You cannot love your sin and be OK with God. You cannot declare it from the rooftops (or on Facebook depending on how you roll) while defying anyone to call your sin what it is...sin and be OK with God.
We have this really bad habit of making idols. We don't want to worship the One True God and His Son. We want to worship our chosen lifestyle, a few selected verses from the Bible or even a God we have created. One who is only love without judgement of any kind. We're like teenagers who think their lives would be perfect if only their parents would let them do whatever they want.
Let me give you an example. My ex-husband's wife says this about their adultery. "We may have gone about it in the wrong way but God wanted us to be together." I could honestly write a whole book about that statement. But for my purpose here let me just say this. You know you have created a false god in your own image when that god hates what you hate, loves what you love and approves of any actions you do as long as the outcome is what you desire.
God wants more than anything to be OK with all of us. He wanted it so much that he sacrificed His Son to atone for all our sins. But declaring your allegiance with Jesus while simultaneously relishing in sin is like trying to cover up cancer with a band aid. You aren't fooling anyone except perhaps...yourself.
You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.
Psalm 4:7
On a daily basis I allow peace and joy to be stolen from me. I'm not proud of that. In fact, I am downright furious about it. Being furious steals even more of my peace and joy. And I have to start taking responsibility for allowing that to happen.
I really wanted to read your book. I even requested it from the library. I only do this for books I want to read big time. I had read several glowing reviews of your work and even saw it featured on Amazon and in the Costco magazine. (I trust the Costco magazine in all areas.)
I only made it through 60 pages. And they were 60 awesome pages. You write really, really well. I was completely entranced by your story. You had already woven a rather intricate plot foundation. I was impressed.
But I just had to put your book down. It was just too much. Not too long. I love long books. Just too much.
By page 60, I had already been introduced to two dozen characters. And every one of those characters had a horrible back story. I suffered through the FBI agent who had watched his infant daughter die. The chemically castrated pedophile who was working on the highly secure secret project. The down on her luck waitress who becomes a single mom then a prostitute then a murderer. When this character abandons her 6 year old daughter at a convent, I nearly passed out from grief just imagining what it would take to walk away from one of my children. You wrote that stuff very well. But when I read the story about the nun who befriends the little girl, I knew I had to stop reading. Nothing you wrote was intentionally shock producing. I know you weren't trying to burden my soul. But you did. And, honestly sir, I am just to tender-hearted for this sort of thing. We live in a world that is pretty brutal. Just reading the newspaper can often send me into the 'ugly cry'. So while, I am sure that the rest of your novel is just as well written as the first 60 pages, I just don't have the emotional fortitude to withstand it.
I think I was supposed to like this book. I didn't.
I really like the idea of this book. A couple meet and yada, yada, yada at their college graduation. They form an odd friendship and each chapter of the book takes place on the anniversary of the day they met. This goes on for like twenty years. Sounds pretty awesome, doesn't it? It wasn't.
Basically I felt like I had read about this couple before. They felt stale to me. Pretty, smart, politically motivated Emma and rebellious, rich, handsome Dexter. I assume that I am supposed to want these two crazy kids to work out their differences and make the relationship work. They do and I could've cared less. Some other stuff happens so I won't spoil it for you but, trust me, that stuff is pretty boring too.
Oh Pat Conroy...I am so in love with you. I just don't think I will ever get over it. I don't think I even want to.
Let me start with this. If the only connection you have with Conroy is that you watched the movie "The Prince of Tides", then I want you to get up right now, get yourself to a library and find the C section. Get Beach Music, The Lords of Discipline or The Great Santini. It makes no difference what you get. Just get something. Then ignore your kids, your spouse, your job and your dog and just read it. The negative aspect of this experience is that you will live the rest of your life in bitter regret of all the years you wasted without Pat Conroy's prose dancing in your brain. Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself.
Conroy is not a "Southern Writer". I cannot explain to you how fully I hate that phrase. Carson McCullers, Harper Lee, Eudora Welty. These are all great writers. They also, like Conroy, happen to be from and write about the South. John Steinbeck wrote about California. Nobody calls him a "Western Writer". In fact, there are no other novelists from any region that are categorized this way. Now obviously I realize that the South is special. For instance, we are not ashamed of crazy people. We actually enjoy them. Also, we really, really like to eat. So food makes repeated and often sensual appearances in "Southern Literature". I hate that phrase too, by the way. Fiddle-dee-dee.
If you haven't ever read Conroy, please don't start with this book. At some point, you should read it but not first. See Pat Conroy hasn't published a book in 14 years. Apparently every idea he had during that time ended up in this book. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it but it's not for the uninitiated. The basic premise of the book is how one day can (and often does) change your life completely. For the main character, Leo Bloom, that day comes during the summer before his senior year. He meets the people who will form his core group of friends for the rest of his life. He also finds out that his mother used to be a nun. See, this is the kind of thing that makes Conroy a genius. He will create a side story based on a secondary character that really could be a stand alone novel. And, honestly, have you ever heard of a nun who leaves the convent to marry, have children and become a high school principal? Well you have now. See how this guy has enriched your pitiful life already?
This is far from a perfect novel. But it's pretty dang entertaining if you are willing to surrender yourself to the experience...which I always am. What else do I have to do?
I have been writing a lot. Mostly in my head. I have created many posts that are in 'draft' form in my mind that I have been hesitant to put on (virtual) paper. Mostly because I am scared. I fear that my often strong and possibly offensive views could make people angry. I realize this is silly. This is MY blog. I started it primarily for my children. My goal was one thing. I wanted my kids to know me. While I hope I live a long, healthy life, I know that all of us are mortal. With that knowledge comes the desire to leave something of myself as an inheritance. I wanted this blog to be a diary, a scrapbook, a love letter and a devotional for Savannah, Kaylee and Ava. And I would love for it to be all those things to Dylan, Emily, Anna and Katie too.
I want them to see the real me.
Therein lies the problem. The real me is opinionated and loud. The real me is also tolerant of the opinions of others. You won't find me arguing often. I really do believe that everyone has a right to their own opinions (even if they drive me nuts) and to live their life however they see fit (assuming that doesn't infringe on the health and well being of my family.)But I feel that I have hidden part of myself in order to prove how agreeable I can be. I don't want to be a loud mouthed hypocrite. But it's disingenuous for me to continue to ignore aspects of my life that make up the core of the real me.
Most of the material that I have tried to subdue relates to my faith. Any future posts you may read regarding my Christian beliefs will be presented unapologetically. That's the real me. I am a Christian. I believe that the Bible is true. Yep. Every word of it. (And, no, I won't be debating you about a random verse you pulled out of Leviticus. There is an old covenant and a new covenant. Jesus died to set me free from the old covenant. It's not complicated but I'll explain it to you later if you like.) I strive to follow Jesus in every way possible. I am also a sinner who fails every day (often multiple times per day.) Much of my hesitation stems from my shame at the behavior of many so-called 'christians'. Understand that I do not consider it my job to judge the sincerity of anyone's faith. That being said, the Bible clearly tell me that I can discern a real Christian by the 'fruit' I see in their lives. So, if you call yourself a Christian but you march around with a sign that says "God hates Fags" then understand that I am judging you and that your 'fruit' proves to me that you have no real relationship with Christ. God hates sin but He is crazy in love with sinners. On that topic, I won't back down from an argument.
I do not think I am better than you regardless of what your belief system may be. But I want my kids to know that their mom was an imperfect woman who spent her life trying to serve a perfect God.
