Hmm, I wonder...

I had that dream last night. You know the one. The teeth fallin' right out of your head dream. I hate that dream. And I must admit that it has left me feeling completely out of sorts today. Not out of sorts because I'm afraid of loosing my teeth (they seem pretty secure) but out of sorts because as most of us know the teeth falling out dream is a symbol of ones life being out of whack and man do I feel out of whack right now (a fact that I didn't admit to myself until this dream made it painfully clear).

I was reading on a dream analyzing site that when we have a dream such as this we should write down all of the events--such as setting, people, feelings--of the dream which will give us a better idea of what the dream is trying to tell us.

So here goes. I invite you to read the details of my teeth falling out dream as I remember it...

The setting of my dream took place at the home of some new friends we had made (these were not any of our true life friends, in appearance anyway but maybe symbolically they were--who knows) it was some kind of festive occasion but there was a general feeling of awkwardness in being there. Something was strange about the friendship but I don't remember or can't pinpoint what it was exactly. I remember their house was dark (dark furniture and carpet) without a lot of natural light, which only added to that feeling of awkward uneasiness.

I walked out into the back yard, bright with sunshine, to a picnic type setting. People were gathered there and children were playing, but I felt a little shy and unsure as I walked down into the yard to go stand beside my husband.

It was when I opened my mouth to speak to him that it happened. With the most gentle push of my tongue my teeth began to fall out. I felt them fill my mouth and I spit them into my hands. It was terrifying as the perfectly polished, brilliantly white strong teeth filled my hands to capacity.

I felt the fear in my eyes as I looked to Rick for help. I needed him to get me to the dentist quickly so my teeth could be saved and I expressed that I had felt that something was wrong with me for a long time. I had suspected that I had been very sick but had ignored it and now it had grown serious. I needed medical attention right away.

I walked into the house-- gingerly trying to balance the unmanageably large pile of teeth (still perfect and white) in my hands--and told my kids that we had an emergency and needed to hurry and leave. Hesitant to quit what they were doing, my kids continued to visit and play. As I began to plead with them again about the state of emergency we were in I lost hold of my pile of teeth and they scattered all over the floor, getting lost among the toys and clutter.

I crouched down and while frantically trying to retrieve them, I cried. I cried because I was falling apart, I had no control and it didn't seem to matter to anyone else but me. Of course upon seeing this, my kids rushed to my aid helping me find each tooth--but still feeling an overwhelming sense of urgency to get help-- I told myself to wake up and escape from this awful nightmare immediately, which I did.

So there you have it. My horrible dream. Feel free to analyze away (if you read the whole thing--wow that's a long post). And maybe, just maybe, I'll tell you what I think it means later.

Do you ever write down and or analyze your dreams?

Still swimming...

"The same God that placed that star in a precise orbit millennia before it appeared over Bethlehem in celebration of the birth of the Babe has given at least equal attention to placement of each of us in precise human orbits so that we may, if we will, illuminate the landscape of our individual lives, so that our light may not only lead others but warm them as well."
~Neal A. Maxwell

Last week was a time to vacation, this week a time to reflect. If I could bring just a portion of the light and warmth that my Savior blesses me with each and every day to others my joy would be full. It is the greatest desire of my heart, one that--because of my human frailties-- too often gets neglected, but one that I will never stop striving to accomplish.

Wish me luck... (please)

Truth be told, you're pretty awesome...

I found an old blog post of mine, written in March of 2008 and thought, "Hey this kind of sums up what I was talking with my sister about last night." So even though I was getting ready to write an entirely different post, I think I'll share this instead.

In the old post I was talking about how I had just returned from a writer's conference. I mentioned a few things I had learned, but the following is what I want to share with you today...

"...Another principle we discussed is how truth is full of light, peace and joy. Truth does not leave us feeling sad, empty or depressed. For every lie there is an opposite truth. So if Satan tells me the lies that I'm not good enough, that I can't do it, that I'm not of worth. There is an opposite truth that I am amazing, capable and of infinite worth. The lies fill me with darkness, the truth with light. It's a simple concept, but it holds such power. Satan never wants us to realize just how glorious we are. He wants to keep us trapped in his lies, but if we'll seek the spirit of truth we'll know that we are worth so much more than we ever imagined."

The lies fill us with darkness, the truth with light. It's so simple, so powerful and so TRUE. Truth does not leave us feeling sad, empty or depressed about ourselves. Truth empowers us to change. Day by day, little by little we keep fighting a good fight and we become who we want to be if we allow truth to penetrate our hearts then plug our ears and say, "La, la, la I'm not listening." to the lies that seek to oppress and destroy us.

Also found in an old blog post was this questioned that had been presented to me by the spirit during a difficult time in my life...

"How long are you going to let the father of lies deceive you? How long are you going to allow him to tell you that you are less than you are? Walk with boldness. You are a daughter of God, and as a daughter of God, you can do anything."

WOW.
So say it with me won't you...
"La, la, la I'm not listening"
and lets get out there and do some good because as daughters (and sons) of God we CAN do anything.

Might as well try...

About a week ago I saw a sweet elderly woman taking a walk out in nature. It impressed me. Especially because she hobbled up the path in a painfully slow shuffle. Again, very impressive. But I wondered if we have to resign to walking in a painfully slow shuffle as we age. Can there be anything done to prevent this? I guess only time will tell. But just in case something can be done. Just in case I can work to save the strength of my body now while I've still got a little, I'm pushing myself to work out again (yeah, I know I told you that yesterday). I'm fighting while the fighting's good. Yes I am.

Funny thing is, in my attempt to save myself from walking in a painfully slow shuffle--today, day two of my great workout comeback, I'M WALKING IN A VERY PAINFULLY SLOW SHUFFLE.

Oh well, at least it's temporary.

Here's to health and vitality.

Man I'm gonna be mad if this doesn't work.

Here I go again...

This is the third time I have used this picture on my blog. The first time was for a "Self Portrait Tuesday or SPT (remember when I used to do those) where I talked about sending "good mail" to friends. The second was a "Writer's Workshop" where I talked about being my own "vault friend" and sending letters to myself. And today I post it to talk about my desire to work out again.

You see when my sister saw this picture the second time I posted it she said, "Oh my gosh that P90x is really working for you." To which I replied, "Actually I only did P90x for like a week and a half so I didn't get much out of it."

She said, "I thought that picture on your blog with the letters was from doing P90x."

I said, "No that picture is from a long time ago. Didn't you notice my dark hair?"

And then we both wondered as to why I look like I've been working out in this picture. Until I remembered, oh yeah. I look like I've been working out in this picture because I HAD BEEN WORKING OUT duh. This was taken when I was working to become fabulous by forty. Remember those days? Ah, good times. At that time I was doing workout tapes called "The Firm" can we all just pause for a moment and say "Ouch". Those tapes kick butt (literally).

As a matter of fact they just kicked my butt again this morning and now my legs feel like jello and I want to throw up. Nice. But I'm going to keep it up by golly. Because although I don't mind getting old, I do mind getting old and broken down. There's still far too much to do in this big ol' world. I've got to fight for this body o' mine. Fight I tell you. And it is a fight because working out pretty much stinks.

That Jackie lady trainer person on TV (do you know the one) says that we can tell our minds that working out is pleasurable, but I guess I must be weak minded because my mind says, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE MAKING ME DO THIS!!! THIS STINKS!!! I HATE YOU!!!"

So if you have any tricks for making working out seem pleasurable do tell because I need all the help I can get.

...but keep it G rated.
This is a family blog. :}

A few (too many) words about me...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
About me. Do you have an about me page? Because people want to know. Write a page that describes who you are and what you’re about or spruce up your current about me page!




I don't currently have an about me page because I haven't ever really wanted one. I guess I figure this whole blog is a big ol' all about me extravaganza so who needs more. Who? I ask you. Now if the answer is you. If you indeed want to read more pointless facts about me then I will be happy to grace you with a re-posting of my 100 things about me, written in 2008.

Some of the facts have changed like my roots don't need to be done right now and I've already tried the brunette thing and am over it and instead of working with the young women at church I now work with the Relief Society (or various degrees of slightly older women) and yeah, you know, stuff like that.

And now for your skimming pleasure, I give you 100 things about me...

1. I am an Arizona native
2. My ancestors were among the first settlers of Mesa and other Az cities.
3. I am the third of seven children
4. I was a “surprise” (I say accident but my mom doesn’t like that)
5. My older sister and I are only a year apart.
6. I was born with dark hair. Then it changed to blond. Now it’s back to dark, but I make it blond.
7. I desperately need my roots done.
8. I’m considering going dark brown and being done with the whole root business.
9. I won student body vice president in 6th grade because I gave a killer speech, even though I was normally very shy and quiet (see #s 98 and 99 for explanation). I quickly discovered that politics was not for me (meetings and work—yuck!)
10. In eighth grade I discovered that I was good at long distance running, but turned down a chance to run with the varsity team my freshman year (extra training and hard work—yuck!)
11. I regret that I never strove for greatness.
12. I would love to start running again and train for a half marathon.
13. We never moved while I was growing up. I lived in the same house from age 1 to 20 (except for some time away at college and a summer apartment with friends).
14. I drove a VW Karmann Ghia in high school and college.
15. I was a daddy’s girl and could talk to him for hours on end.
16. I have had the privilege of speaking with my deceased relatives.
17. I’m not a medium or psychic, I believe anyone can talk to the deceased.
18. I met my husband at Mesa Community College in Spanish class.
19. I don’t speak Spanish.
20. My parents sent me away to Rick’s college to meet a good man (in hopes of steering me away from my high school boyfriend).
21. I had already met a good man (Rick, my now hubby) at home, so while I was away I wouldn’t date the same guy more than twice and I didn’t kiss anyone.
22. The first time I kissed Rick it was electric and we made out (kissing only) for over three hours. Crazy.
23. During a bout of insanity I returned for a second semester at Ricks College.
24. I went home for Thanksgiving and got engaged.
25. Three months later I was married.
26. I was the recipient of a miracle that I would love to talk about but can’t.
27. I have an absolute testimony of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
28. I have always dreamed of being a mother.
29. I had my first baby 13 months after I got married.
30. I have been pregnant 8 times, which would have resulted in 9 babies.
31. I’ve had two miscarriages.
32. I am the mother of 6 (two boys, four girls)
33. I’ve always loved baby boys (I always made my dolls be boys)
34. I wanted to be the mother of 9 boys.
35. I love being the mother of girls.
36. Little boys still melt my heart.
37. I have been blessed with a great deal of patience and rarely get my feathers ruffled. Except for….
38. When I’m involved in a project or want something changed or moved—I want it RIGHT NOW! And can’t wait for help.
39. I’ve moved heavy furniture and the piano by myself many times and have broken the leg off of a dining room table and dinged many a finish because I was too impatient to wait for help.
40. I am a S.H.E. (sidetracked home executive)
41. I lack time management skills. Therefore….
42. I am almost always running late.
43. I like driving with my kids.
44. I hate driving on high, winding roads or bridges.
45. My or my children’s lives will have to be at stake before I will drive the Salt River Canyon again.
46. I am a member of the American Night Writers Association.
47. I love to write.
48. I have written a novel, but am stuck in revisions (I’m in a funk)
49. Writing poetry is my favorite especially children’s books written in verse.
50. I enjoy writing talks.
51. I showed up late the night Rick proposed because I was engrossed in helping my sister write an essay for school (at least he knew what he was getting).
52. I love Sunday afternoon naps.
53. I’ve been taking Synthroid every morning for about 12 years for hypothyroidism, but….
54. I have been blessed with incredible health and am rarely sick.
55. I am a night owl, but….
56. I hate sleeping in, so….
57. I don’t get enough sleep.
58. Waking up at the crack of dawn for yard sales is one of my favorite things to do.
59. I love to treasure hunt in thrift stores too.
60. I love taking old, ugly things and making them pretty and useful.
61. I love to decorate, but…
62. I have been uninspired in the decorating of my new home.
63. I desperately miss my yard sale and thrift store hunting trips.
64. I miss the city but…
65. I am starting to feel much better about my new life.
66. I enjoy working with the Young Women at church. They keep me young.
67. I want to eat better and exercise so I can keep feeling young.
68. I love healthy food that tastes like the goodness of the earth, but…
69. I love junk food too and it’s easier.
70. I love how I feel when I get regular exercise, but…
71. I hate to exercise regularly.
72. I like exercising with friends, but…
73. I like sitting around and eating with friends more.
74. I have imaginary friends a.k.a. other bloggers, strangers that I read about regularly.
75. I think it would be fun to meet my imaginary friends someday.
76. I am terrible about calling friends but once I do…
77. I can talk on the phone for hours.
78. I love my laptop and call it my precious (like Gollum and the Ring).
79. I love many kinds of music. From spiritual, classical, big band, and Josh Groban types… to rock, pop, alternative, and almost anything 80s, but I’m not too fond of Country. Although…
80. I like watching country music videos because I think cowboys are hot. But…
81. I wouldn’t want Rick to be a cowboy because….
82. I love how much Rick and I have in common including our taste in music (except for Josh Groban, Rick hates him) besides…
83. Rick’s broad shoulders, bald head and goatee remind me of a biker dude and…
84. I think biker dudes are hot. Although….
85. I’m most attracted to Rick when I’m sitting next to him in church while he is dressed in his crisp white shirt and tie.
86. My heart leaps to know that I am married to a man who loves the Lord as much as I do.
87. I love bald heads especially my hubby’s. If his hair could be restored tomorrow I’d beg him not to do it.
88. I love snuggling up and watching TV with Rick especially the food network’s Diners, Drive-ins and Dives—yummy!
89. I love going out to eat.
90. I pretty much love any kind of food.
91. I don’t like sugary candy but I love chocolate and….
92. I can’t say no to a pastry, but….
93. I like salty, savory more than sweet.
94. I am a good cook but I don’t enjoy it.
95. I am the queen of throwing a meal together without prior thought or preparation.
96. I love shoes, but not those that require socks. I hate socks.
97. I love being with my kids and enjoy summer break more than the school year.
98. I can be shy one on one but…
99. I don’t mind speaking to large groups.
100. I am generally an optimistic girl who loves God, family, and country. I am grateful for my gifts, talents, and blessings as well as my tests and trials for they have all, the good and the bad, brought me greater understanding and love for my Heavenly Father and Savior Jesus Christ. I love to testify of them. Of their goodness and glory, their merciful love and their wonderful plan of happiness. They live and because I know this—my life is bliss.

If you read through all of that you deserve a prize.
Sadly, I don't have a prize for you, but you sure do deserve one. Yes you do.

A mantle of happiness...

I would tell you how disappointed I am in this picture of my mantle--1) because I had to take it with my phone, 2) because the lighting is so bad and 3) because the ginormous pipe shooting up through the middle of it is simply not pleasing to the eye--I would tell you all of this and more if this post was meant to be about my mantle...
...but it's not.

This post is about a super awesome friend who read my blog this morning and upon reading that I needed pumpkins for my mantle SHOWED UP AT MY DOOR WITH AN ARMFUL OF THEM IN TOW. For me. And then proceeded to allow me to talk her ear off about the fate of my world as I know it. Not the world in general. Just my world.

In short, she made my day. So now when I feel like I should do something for someone else, but doubt myself and ask, "Hmm, I don't know, should I really do this?" I will answer myself a big old YES! Because I learned that the fate of the world (as I or others may know it) just doesn't seem to matter as much when you have plump happy pumpkins on your mantle.

Especially when they're grown and hand delivered by a thoughtful friend.

Have I ever told you how much I hate titles...

This picture could mean only one of two things...

A) I'm going through a mid-life crisis

or

B) I went to an 80's birthday party this weekend

Hmm...

which one do you suppose it is?

P.S. my mantle is crying for some pumpkins. Crying for them. Hope this week will slow down enough
for me to get to the store, or the pumpkin patch or whatever. I need pumpkins people.

Peace, be still...

Patience is...clearly not fatalistic, shoulder-shrugging resignation. It is the acceptance of a divine rhythm to life; it is obedience prolonged. Patience stoutly resists pulling up the daisies to see how the roots are doing. ~ Neal A. Maxwell

I'm needing to be patient right now. I am not wanting to be patient right now. But even in all of this I know that no matter what feelings get stirred up in my heart and mind concerning the things that I have no control over, if I am humble, there is a source for peace. There is always a source for peace if we are willing to accept it.

The Savior Jesus Christ is that source. This is an absolute truth. And I can tell you that today the confusion, impatience and concern that I have been feeling have been washed away because today I sought peace, patience and understanding (several times mind you) and that is what I have received.

And as I was scrubbing out my sink (because one answer I received was to continue to serve and honor my home. Which is quite a lovely thought in and of its self, don't ya think. Serve and honor... and here I thought I was only doing drudge work all of these years) I was overcome by the Spirit and I marveled at what it really means to be a child of the living God.

I am a child of God, sent here by Him, and I can find comfort in His perfect plan for me.
And today I will run through the daisies that He has so generously blessed me with and leave the structure of the roots to Him.

After all, He's a far better gardener than I could ever hope to be.

At least I'm trying...

I've been quite the grown-up lately, keeping on top of things and being neat and tidy. I know, you're impressed. right?

Anyway this past weekend got away from me and so did yesterday for that matter. Hey life gets busy sometimes. And to make matters worse, the holidays are in the air. Holidays make creative (somewhat flighty) people drift off into a la-la magical land of, "I wonder what I can make today or Ooo, lets decorate and forget all else" state of being. Very anti-grownup I'm afraid.

Because of this I decided today was a day to resort back to "timer cleaning" (you know when I set the timer for 5-15 minutes per room (whichever I feel I can commit to) and clean my little heart out).

Problem is when you're a person who needs a timer for cleaning...

You never know where you put the dang thing the last time you used it.

it's sad really.

Hmm...

I wonder what I can make today?

So happy...

Some time ago, I picked up these paintings at a yard sale for a dollar. Yes yard sales pretty much rule the world. Of course the frames were in all of their seventies glory when I bought them, but nothing a little paint couldn't fix.

At first I painted them with more of an antique type paint finish and I have to say it didn't do it for me. Every time I'd walk past them I'd think, "Nop, that's not doing it for me. They need to be white."

So yesterday I finally pulled them off the wall and slapped some white paint on them, which lead to me taking care of some other neglected yard sale finds.
So happy.

My sis-in-law and I were talking the other day and she asked, "if you could think back to a time when you were the happiest. When would that be?" (or something like that). And besides the obvious--marriage, kids--I wasn't quite sure.

But yesterday I was reminded that I'm the happiest...




...when there's a project on my mind and paint on my hands.

Now that's bliss baby. Solid Bliss.

So good to know...

Writer's Workshop Prompt:
10 Reasons why you love your job.

Only I'm changing the prompt a little (well, kind of a lot) because I'm rebellious like that.
And my slightly (well, kind of a lot) tweaked prompt shall be:

My one job.



A strange thing happens when one becomes a small town person, and now I find myself saying things like, "Aww man, I don't want to drive into town today." Into town? Really? Who am I? But this is my reality people. I own it. Because it's true.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to make round trips "into town" and back 20 times a day (slight exaggeration), but I do, across horrid, bumpy dirt roads no less (feel sorry for me yet?).

So sometimes, after picking up one kid and waiting for another to finish music lessons or the like, I hang out "in town" instead of driving back and forth. This process often irritates me because I always have SO MUCH TO DO at home.



But on Monday I was given a gift. While hanging out "in town" watching my kids play at the park a sweet gift flooded my mind and my heart as I heard the Spirit whisper, "This is your one job. The most important job you will ever do."

It wasn't a warning voice as in, "This is your one job so you better not mess it up." But a sweet reminder, a special feeling of permission given to me by a loving Father in Heaven that it was okay for me to put all other things aside because this, my one job, was what mattered the very most.



Now, because of this precious gift, when I am with my kids I am really-- WITH MY KIDS. The need for multitasking is gone. Because after all...




I only have one job.

Woo-hoo...

I told you I was setting some goals. And I meant it. So this morning I whipped me-self up a little goal calendar (for one particular goal. I'll make others for other goals) because I'm a visual person and things such as this make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

As you can see I didn't spend any amount of time creating or perfecting my calendar because I have much to do these days. You know. With my new goals and all. I just slapped it together and added words of things that-- by working on and accomplishing this particular goal-- I'll be able to better enjoy in my life.

Hooray for goals. Hooray for progression (it's my favorite thing about being alive you know. Progression. So Fabulous.)
and Hooray for happy little doodled calendars that bring me joy.

The bus stop of loveliness...

Today, whilst at the bus stop with Mr. Waylon, I was gifted a bag of rolls, home baked by my lovely neighbor. "I got to baking this morning..." She said. "And these are for you."

"Lucky me." I squealed. And I meant it too. I was hungry at the bus stop. And bread is my favorite food group.

Along with feeding my hungry belly, this act of kindness also confirmed to me what I had been feeling all day, which is this...

I need to make time to do the things I love each and every day. That's right I said each and every.

If I want more creative time then I need to "pencil in" more creative time.

If I want to get back to playing the piano... pencil it in lady. Pencil. it. in.

In other words I'm setting some goals for myself. That's right...goals. I'm taking charge of my time, prioritizing, and living each day to the fullest.

And someday. Yes, someday. I'm going to be able to gift others with bags of homemade goodness, of one form or another, to brighten their days too.

Yes I am.

Breaks over...

(Norman's mom)

Once upon a time...mostly back while my oldest three were little... I oozed creativity. Creativity was my life's breath. I wrote, painted, decorated, reupholstered furniture, sewed, made crafts, sold crafts and created precious family heirlooms for my kiddos (to name a few).

Fast forward to now...

The other night my younger three pulled my canvas "monster" book (that I never finished sewing together) out of a memory box and squealed with delight (okay so they didn't squeal but they were very excited to look at it, pass it around and touch every page) "What is this?" They asked. Had I really never shown it to them? "It's a story I wrote when Landon was little." I told them. "Wow!" They exclaimed. "Did you paint these pictures yourself."

"Yes. It's a story about a little monster named Norman who is afraid of children." I explained. "Would you like to hear it?" We sat down and read the story of Norman (incidentally, when Monsters Inc came out my kids were quite convinced that they had stolen my idea. cute) and afterward I thought...What the heck am I doing with my life? Why have I abandoned creativity? Why?

And now I CRAVE creativity. Yes, I needs me some creative time RIGHT NOW.

Anyone want a canvas book? I'll make you one. And maybe I'll even sew it up for you too.
Maybe.

Sail away with me...

(this table was my last lucky find, while still a resident of the Valley o' the sun)

Last night I had the strangest dream... I sailed away to China in a little rowboat to find ya... no I didn't really (those pesky 80's songs. They just pop up when you least expect it).

I actually dreamed that several of my blogging friends (and some that I just stalk) came to my house for a fun little blogging people's get together of sorts. It was a bit awkward if I'm speaking the truth because all of these women. that I admire. were in my house. My house. And one of my favorite designing bloggers was making a phone call IN MY ROOM. Most of you have met my room before (it looks a lot better these days. I'm slowly evolving) and it was in all of its disorganized glory in my dream. Thanks dream for making me feel like crumb after all I've done to try to change. Thanks a whole heck of a lot.

Anyway, then came the part when I was asked to show the blogging people persons some of the interesting things to do about town...-crickets chirping-... I had nothing. So my mind quickly transported us to the Valley of the Sun, my beloved (P.S. people from the Valley of the Sun never call it "the Valley" (except for the broadcasters on the evening news) I bring this up only because it bugged me in my dream that I was calling it that)

Safely in the warmth of my "Valley" home I turned to my guests and, with a happy gleam no less, announced that I would be taking one and all to my (brace yourselves) FAVORITE THRIFT STORE. Oooo. Rowdy. But when I googled it to find its location the address came up as being on the corner of Southern and Pecos (?) This hurt my head. Even away in dreamland IT HURT MY HEAD. "How can this be?" I questioned. "It simply doesn't compute." I groaned.
But the google map said it, right there-- Pecos and Southern--marked with a big, b0ld star. Well I knew good and well that Pecos and Southern are parallel running roads that DO NOT INTERSECT. so I caused myself to wake up. so I could prove to myself that I was right. And I was.

So what's the moral of this dream? Well I figure it can be one of three things...

1) I need to have a blogger people persons get together of sorts at my house.

Or

2) I'm being chastened for not knowing more about the rich abundance (?) of fun things to do in the town where I now reside

Or

3) I've been estranged from my "Valley" home and thrift stores for far too long and a trip is in immediate order. immediately.

Then again it could have been a dream no more profound than sailing away to China in a little row boat to find ya or some other such meaningless fiddle-faddle.

And yes I just said fiddle-faddle. And yes I kind of liked it.

This much I know...

What a weekend we had. A weekend of bad news. First from my hubs and then from a friend. And though my mind reeled around, trying to think of possible solutions... What could I do? How could I help fix things?... I ultimately came back to the same conclusion that I always come to during times of trial, which is that I have very little control over what happens in my temporal life.

And that's when I remember and take great comfort in knowing that I do however have all control over what happens in my spiritual life. Nothing (aside from my own hardheartedness and stupidity) can stop me from growing spiritually and enjoying the presence of my Father in Heaven and Savior Jesus Christ in my life. Nothing.

So I spent a good part of the weekend trying to stay close to the Spirit (fasting, praying, attending the Lord's house). I allowed the Lord to manifest His power unto me and I found comfort, hope and joy in the knowledge that He lives, that His work will go forth and that He is always there for those who come unto Him.

What a comforting feeling indeed.

Be careful what you wish for...

I'm in a hurry this morning. No time to blog. No time at all. But I want to blog because I told Mr. Blissful I would and also I wanted to tell you about my new glasses. So while I'm waiting for my eggs to cook (breakfast is the most important meal of the day. even if you're busy) I'll do just that.

Okay, first of all I lied. These are not my new glasses they are Paige's new glasses. I don't wear glasses, but I covet these.

When Paige put them on her cute face I said "Oh my gosh those are so flippin' cute. I want some." (or something to that affect). So Paige let me put them on my not quite as cute face and when we showed Mr. Blissful a wide grin spread across his saxy face and a gleam shone in his eye to boot (I think he was picturing me as a saxy secretary, that's what the look on his face would suggest, but I can't say for sure :} ).

Anyway "nerd" glasses (that's the modern lingo for them. you know the word on the street. yeah I'm up on these things) are the stuff right now did you know that(I did because I'm really cool and up on these things you know)? And I WANT SOME.

So I was fixin' to order me some fake ones when I remembered...
Hey I'm 41 years old. Chances are I just might need glasses FOR REAL.

Looks like an eye appointment is in order toot sweet. :)

Do I really have to come up with a title for this post? Blah, I hate titles...

"You need to blog." Mr. Blissful encouraged last night.

"Nah, I don't feel like it." I answered.

"I'll watch TV while you write. Come on."

"Eh. don't think so."

"Isn't it Self-Portrait Tuesday or something like that."

"I don't do Self-Portrait Tuesday anymore. Besides it's Wednesday, the day I do Writer's Workshop."

"See. You need to do Writer's Workshop."

"I can't I'm too tired."

"Sure you can."

"Zzzzz..." with my daytime clothes still on no less. Told ya I was tired.

So I missed Writer's Workshop this week. I mean I guess I could still do it but eh, I don't feel like thinking that much right now.

So instead I will tell my friend Rachel that I like her idea of posting about the many adventures of Mr. Landon on his mission. And as soon as I get the writing bug again I will do just that.

I've thought about posting Mr. Landon's address so all y'all could write him happy little messages, but then I remembered that I have no idea who reads this here blog and I don't want anyone to write my baby nasty mean spirited messages. Not that I think anyone would really do that but you can't be too careful when you're talking about your baby. Am I right? And as Landon said himself of the people he meets, "They either bless us or curse us." So I know there are those out there who like to curse people if they happen to disagree with them and again, I don't want anyone to curse my baby through the mail.

So I thought, "How 'bout facebook?" I could post his address on facebook. But I'm friends with people on facebook that I haven't spoken to in over 20 years and I wouldn't want one of them to write to my baby and say, "Your mommy is a twit" (do you love the movie Matilda as much as I do?) So I guess facebook is out too.

And I can't post my email address for all y'all to email me for his address because my email address has my last name in it and I try to keep my last name from this here blog. So in short, I guess all y'all can't write my baby happy little messages. Dang it all.

But I will tell you that he is doing very well and having some miraculous, heart warming experiences. And even though I miss him SO MUCH, I wouldn't trade this time for anything. Having a missionary son is FABULOUS.
If I do say so myself.
And I do.

If I must, I must...

On Sunday my dear Mr. Blissful looked me straight in the eye and said, "You need to start blogging again."

To which I replied, "Eh. My heart's just not in it right now."

But when Mr. Blissful talks, I listen (stop laughing Mr. Blissful. Okay so maybe I don't completely listen, but lets just say I try to be accommodating when I can :} ).

Anyway...

So I'm going to try to get back into blogging. For my dear Mr. Blissful. Because I kind of like him a little.

Today I blogged over at Words for this Day. My other blog. That I love. Because Mary at Blogrock made it so dang cute. Did I ever tell you that a little splash of red is my favorite color. Not full on all over red, but a little splash of red. Yes I love a little splash of red and that's what my other blog has. love.

But I never write over there even though I really want to write over there. So today I did, write over there I mean. And you can read it by clicking the cute button below (see the fabulous splash of red) if you feel so inclined to do so. Thank you much and have a fabulous day.

A morning serenade...

I've been away from blogging for what feels like forever. I've missed it, but I've just been too busy to do anything about it.

Until...

This morning.

This morning I allowed myself a little downtime. It started with a need to hear Phantom of the Opera music. I love that music (I really need to buy the CD--and no I don't own an MP3 player because I've always had children at home who call, "Mom" every five seconds and one cannot be plugged into such a device and still hear themselves being beckoned every five seconds. So don't be making fun of me for it okay. alright.) so I clicked on some Youtube whilst making school lunches for the kiddos.

Someday I must do an entire post dedicated to the music of the Phantom. I love stories such as that and I love how brilliantly the music captures the emotion of the story. And furthermore I love talented people who bring such brilliance to life for my enjoyment. Thank you talented people. Thank you.

And speaking of great stories that evoke great emotion...
There has been great weeping, and wailing and nashing of teeth at the Blissful house over a certain book entitled "MOCKINGJAY" (I'm sure some of you have heard of it--the third in the Hunger Games series-- you know) Anyway I haven't read it by my dear daughters have and oh my... that's all I can say... oh my. Such drama. Such confusion. Such heartbreak and sorrow. Thank you talented writer person. Thank you (I mean that sincerely. I love books that can do that).

Anyway...
So I'm watching Phantom music this morning, which leads to watching Beyonce sing Phantom music, which leads to watching Beyonce and Josh Groban sing together, which leads to watching Josh Gorban and Celine sing together, which leads to watching Josh sing (because I had forgotten how much I love Josh) which leads to tears, of the crocodile variety, streaming down my face when I listen to Josh sing "To Where You Are" because it reminds me of my Dad.

Whew... you just gotta love music.

And again I say, Thank you talented people. Thank you.

Now I must go find my long lost Josh Groban CD (did I mention that I love him--and that I don't own an MP3 player) because downtime is over and I very much desire for him to serenade me while I work. Sing to me Josh. Sing. to. me.

Whew...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:

Can it be saved? Think of something that is ruined when it’s totally wet. Write a scene (truth or fiction) that involves you and a soaked item.




"I'll be there in a minute." I'll admit it's a phrase I use far too often with my kids, but this time I had a good reason. I was already engaged in a conversation with Marlee and Jamie knew she shouldn't interrupt.

"Can you come now?" Jamie called a few minutes later. "We want to give you your birthday present."

"Almost." I told her. "I'm just finishing my talk with Marlee."

Then came Waylon's plea, "Mom hurry." His voice sounded faint and strained so I hurried upstairs, afraid that he might be trying to hold something heavy. But it was my heart that grew heavy as I rounded the corner to see my lumpy, little boy sized birthday present wrapped tightly inside of a DOUBLE LAYER OF PLASTIC TRASH BAGS.

"Waylon's not here. He went in the other room for something." Jamie slyly set up the surprise.

"Oh really?" I answered, trying to disguise the fear in my voice. Then with trembling hands I tore through the trash bags to reveal the thoughtful gift of a boy. My boy. My Waylon. He was soaked with sweat, but thankfully, THANKFULLY, not yet ruined.

Well that was interesting...

(Please excuse the randomness of this picture)

I had a birthday shout hooray...

I am now officially over 40 but still fabulous I must say (I decided this is my year for not expecting warm fuzzies or validation from others, but giving it to myself) far more fabulous than last year, but only because I've learned some new, life changing things from my Savior this year and through Him we can all feel fabulous. It's true. Really. You should try it.

So I figure if I continue to learn and grow I'll remain fabulous (no plastic surgery required) throughout my 40's, 50's, 60's (well fabulous sixties doesn't have quite the same ring to it does it, so we'll say...um...super or spectacular or splendorific (you get the idea) sixties and seventies. We'll figure out the eighties and nineties later. There's time).

My birthday was a bit interesting this year to say the least. Lets recap shall we...

1) My husband was out of town :(

2) The restaurant I wanted to take the kids to (I decided if I couldn't be with my husband I'd make a fun night out with my kids, remember personal validation and warm fuzzies) was closed due to a gas leak :(

3) I accidentally told someone that I didn't like the gift they got for me (this is an awkward somewhat HILARIOUS but terrible story that I may or may not share... but most likely not) :}

4) Jamie and Waylon tried to surprise me by nearly giving me a dead child for my birthday (this story I will share but later) :o

but on the brighter side...

5) It was also the first day of school and I am now officially an empty nester during school hours mom. :)
and

6) My sister-in-law made me a really yummy cake (that I ate. In my bed. 'round midnight. Cuz my hubby was gone) :D

Fabulous.

You're all invited...

I read C jane. See it says so on my sidebar and here's the newer version of her button on this post (you can click either and they'll get you there. gotta love them buttons). Anyway I read C jane and this morning I read her post about a gathering she went to. A "gathering of creative friends".
And...

1) I love this idea. A gathering of creative friends. How fun is that.
And...

2) Miss Marlee and I want to have our own gathering of creative friends because she and I both kinda live for creativity. Kinda.
But...

3) I know all y'all who read this will say, "but I'm not creative." And then I'll have to hurt you for saying that (not really, but you know...) because by divine nature we are all creators. Some of us just don't recognize that yet.

For example: Marlee's YW leader is known to say that she doesn't have any talents and yet-- AND YET--she makes the girls the most delicious home baked goods every week and she can garden like no body's business which, in case you didn't know, equals talent and creativity. Yes it does.
So...

4) Miss Marlee and I want to and will (someday) have a "gathering of creative friends" party so y'all just better start paying attention to those talents of yours right now cuz we're gonna invite you and you're gonna have to share and it's gonna pretty much be awesome.
Now...

If you're still feeling nervous about it I want to share with you my favorite quote from C jane's blog post this morning (it's not plagiarism if I recognize the author and put quotes around it--right?)

Anyway she said ( and I quote. See not plagiarism)

And of course there were plenty of confessions of depression, mania and self doubt as per usual in a gathering of "Creative Friends."

Miss Marlee and I read this and said, "Amen" and "Hallelujah" because ain't that the truth creative people everywhere (which is all of us remember) AIN'T THAT THE TRUTH.

It's only natural that the adversary, who knows good and well that "men are that they might have joy", would do everything in his power to keep us from doing that which brings the most joy-- creating.

So set your depression, mania, and self doubt aside (or bring it with you if you must) and get ready to party with us (someday) at our very own special "gathering of creative friends".

LOVE IT.

P.S. This post reminded me of a silly poem I wrote some time ago that goes a little something like this:

I am making a fear catch sack,
To carry my fear upon my back.
My fear tries to stop me, to make me hide,
But I won’t.
So if it wants to stay by my side,
It must climb into my sack,
And come along for the ride.

P.P.S. Visit C jane's post then visit the link to her friend's art page (found at the end of her post). I LOVE HIS ART SO MUCH that I pretty much want to marry it. It's got me fantasizing about being rich so I can buy all of it because I love it so much I REALLY, REALLY want to marry it (did I say that already).

And in case you don't go and follow the link over there I'll give it to you HERE because I love his art so much I... well you know, and I want you to love it with me.

The Hard Way Cafe (table for one please)...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
DESCRIBE THE FIRST DATE YOU WENT ON IN A BOY'S CAR




"You learned things the hard way." The random elderly library patron said to me as I played puppets with my kids one afternoon.

"And that's why you're such a good mom now because you know how important it is to watch over and guide your children." He seemed to peer into my soul as he spoke and though I didn't know him (was he a psychic... an angel?) I wanted to cry back, "Yes random elderly library patron, yes I did learn things the hard way and yes I would throw myself under a bus if needs be to protect my children from doing the same."

Fortunately for me I haven't needed to throw myself under a bus because I've been blessed with good, smart kids with a heck of a lot more common sense than their mom had at their age.

I bring this up because after reading my post about my motorcycle ride, a family member told me that because of my shenanigans growing up I was lucky that I didn't have daughters who did stuff like that. You know... Carma.

But the idea behind "Carma" is that it's one of those "what goes around comes around" kind of things and in general I'd have to say that I wasn't a bad kid (I used to listen to "Afterglow" (a group who sings church hymns) on my Walkman for heck sakes (and said things like "heck sakes" for heck sakes)) I didn't want to stir up trouble, walk on the wild side or stick it to the man (if you will) I was just a naïve kid who blindly walked through life letting whatever happened happen much of the time.

Which is why I got on the back of that motorcycle that night and why I can't remember my first date in a boy's car. Hmm... I think my first "official" date in a boy's car was with a super cute guy who was visiting from out of state, but I can't say for sure because boys were my folly. Yes they were.

A folly that my daughters have managed to avoid because unlike me (at their age) they have goals, they have direction, they have dreams and aspirations, and if me having to stumble down that "hard way" has helped get them to this point I'd gladly do it again.

After all, it's far less painful than being thrown under a bus.

Well... maybe.

P.S. I am no longer a naive gal and I know good and well that someday one of my children or even the whole lot of 'um could decide to go frolicking down that "hard way" for themselves. I get that. I do. But for now I'll continue--as the random elderly library patron observed--to look after, guide and love them the best I can.

Would you like some crackers with that cheese...

Miss Marlee reads. Oh how she reads. She is a reader extraordinaire with a passion for (you guessed it) reading. Which is why she is my go-to gal when I get stuck while plotting my book. I yell, "Marlee, could you come here for a minute." And she graciously cozies up on my bed for a plotting pow-wow that often turns into an hour long (or so) brain storming extravaganza. It's fabulous.

Marlee laughs at me because I'm extremely picky about what makes the cut for my plot. But then I remind her that I'm going for the gold here (writing is my sport. Some train for marathons, some dream of scaling tall mountains, I want to "stick all of my landings" and write the best story ever) I tell her my story can't have any holes that make the reader say, "huh?" It can't have any "pretty bows" where everything gets wrapped up a little too conveniently, and most of all IT CAN'T HAVE CHEESE. No cheesy pleasey for me. "My story is lactose intolerant." I tell her. And she laughs at me. That is she did laugh at me

Until...

We went to a movie--Marlee, Paige and I. We went to a movie that we had long anticipated for what looked to be an intriguing story and a very HOT leading actor (and what mother doesn't like to encourage her teen girls to lust over hot male actors I ask you?) We went to this movie and we LAUGHED (it wasn't a comedy) we laughed and I turned to Marlee and said, "This movie is not lactose intolerant."

This movie had it all...
1) holes
2) pretty bows and
3) cheese. lots of cheese. Smothered, oozing and dripping in it.

It's only saving grace was the HOT lead actor.

But I don't regret seeing it because...

1) I had a fun night out with my girls (making fun of a movie is almost as entertaining as really enjoying it) and

2) Miss Marlee will never laugh at me during plot pow-wow again.

So that's why they were so mad (I get it now)...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
It happened on a motorcycle



Before the motorcycle there was a yacht. A beautiful yacht docked by Sea World in San Diego. A beautiful yacht that I was invited to vacation on because--before the motorcycle-- I was such a "nice, quiet, polite girl".

Before the motorcycle I went with my friends (who had invited me to stay on their yacht) to Disneyland. We had fun. We met boys. We invited the boys to meet us later at the yacht (my friends' parents were staying on a big ultra fancy yacht while we girls stayed on our own private little baby yacht) the boys agreed.

Before the motorcycle my friends and I sat on our own private little baby yacht and waited for the boys. Then they...um...he came. He as in the boy that I had met. He was the only one who showed up.

Before the motorcycle I walked with this boy up the dock and out to the parking lot.

And then... the motorcycle

I climbed onto the back of it and held on tight to this boy that I hardly knew (lets face it, I didn't know him at all) and sped off with this boy I didn't know at all into the dark night of a town I didn't know at all.

I was 15.

After the motorcycle I walked hand in hand with this boy back to the little baby yacht only to find THE FRIENDS' PARENTS WAITING THERE FOR ME (the friends told them I was in the bathroom. They were beginning to think I had a digestive disorder)!

After the motorcycle... yadda, yadda, disapproving unhappy yadda...

I never got invited to vacation on a yacht again.

And he's off...

My boy was safely deposited at the MTC (missionary training center) last Wednesday. We enjoyed a wonderful family vacation together taking him up to Utah. A vacation that I will write about in segments as time permits (I seem to be very busy these days). But as my phone has been broken for over a week now (I dropped it and broke it in half) I thought I'd better give at least a quick report to tell y'all that the boy/man is on his way and doing fine (at least I assume he's doing fine. I can't rightly say that I know he's doing fine because he hasn't written to me yet. I know--right. The little stinker).

Yeah, I hear ya...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
I wish I would have…describe a time when you didn’t take action, but later wished you would have.
OR...
Describe a time when you realized that you needed to take action to save yourself from future regret.




"I don't care if I never have a book published." I told Rick not too long ago. "In fact I don't really care if I never finish revising my book or if I never write another one. I'm happy just writing my blog. It gives me my writing fix for the day and that's good enough for me." And I meant it too.

Until...

I didn't write on my blog for awhile and wouldn't you know it... MY CHARACTERS CAME OUT TO PLAY. They danced up and down my spine, tickled my nose and caused a whirlpool of excitement to churn around in my tummy. It seems they've missed me and after sufficient begging (seriously, they won't let me sleep) I agreed to come back to them.

What can I say, we're in love (my characters and I) and nothing can separate us (except for blogging, dirty dishes, laundry, children, reality TV, stopping to drive someone here there and everywhere, life... you know... whatever) we always find our way back to each other and oh, the reunion. There's really nothing better.

P.S. Later I'll tell you about another fun thing that happened to make me get back to writing.

P.P.S. I'm gonna have to figure out this whole blogging thing because it does give me my writing fix for the day and that's not good when you've got characters begging for attention. Hmm... what to do? What to do?

Maybe if he had called first...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
What summer means to your family

**********************************************

Summer for our family usually means visitors. Friends, family, fun. We love visitors.

Well... most of the time.



This summer visitor, found hanging out by our doorbell yesterday, wasn't exactly welcomed with opened arms. I'm afraid we quite rudely shrieked in horror when we walked out the door and found him (her (?)) there.

Guess we need to work on our hospitality skills.

And so it goes...

It's been an eventful few weeks in the blissful house. I wish I could say that I've been away vacationing in the Caribbean or some other such news, but no such luck. Truth is, after watching my dear Mr. Blissful deteriorate right before my eyes this past month (he's been sooo sick, still is, and has lost close to 40 pounds in less than a month) we finally got a diagnosis of diabetes last Monday (I knew it. I told you I like to read medical books and he had all of the symptoms. Bummer).

The Doctor wanted to admit him into the hospital to get everything straitened out, but because we don't have insurance we're stuck trying to get him regulated the slow, slow, SLOW way and I hate watching him suffer. Those with diabetes know that when not properly regulated it can be a very MISERABLE experience. More miserable than those of us without it could ever fully comprehend.

Because I'm the star chef around these parts I've been doing a lot of studying this past week, trying to figure out how to feed my man (Paula Deen, the affair is over. It's splitsville for us now and forever. And this time I mean it). It's a lot to learn and we hope to meet with a dietitian after his lab work comes in and we know exactly what we're dealing with (the Dr suspects it's type 1. Bummer.)

Anyway it's been interesting. I've had to take on the role of the tough, take charge one and I dare say it's been good for me. But even so, I can't wait for my dearest love to be back to feeling like his normal healthy self again.

P.S. We went to the Valley this weekend and had to stop in for a bite at a fast food place. Because I'm the one who's been studying his diet, Rick kept asking me if he could order this, that or the other and when I'd say no the girl behind the counter looked at me like I was some kind of psycho controlling wife. Seriously funny.

Love her...

I'm tired today. SERIOUSLY tired. I had a great chat with my sister last night. So great that it lasted til 2 am. Fabulous. That's not what did me in however. It was the stupid, STUPID movie I stayed up to watch after that. 4 am. That's what time I went to bed. Four in the stinkin' morning. Why?

So now I'm dying. To death. I figure I have a few choices to help with this problem.
1) Go take a nap (the obvious choice)

2) Crank some LOUD tunes while cleaning like a mad woman to get my blood pumping

Or

3) Sit on my tired buttum and attempt to write a blog post.

While trying to decide what to do I've been sitting on my buttum reading blog posts (go take a nap already you nerdball) and whilst sitting here on my buttum, Busy Bee Lauren challenged me to find my favorite old picture and post about it. So now I can't nap. Because it's a challenge. And I loves me a challenge. And I also love this old picture. It's one of my ALL TIME FAVORITES.

Ah, our Christmas card from 2003 (yes I sent this out to everyone). I don't think I need to tell the story behind this picture because it's Jamie. And all who know my Jamie say, "Oh, of course."

If you don't know my Jamie you can read a little about her HERE, HERE or HERE.

One of the subjects of mine and my sister's conversation last night was how much we love this Jamie girl. She definitely keeps it real. Everyday she keeps it very, VERY real. Love her.

So worth it...

Writer's Workshop Prompt:
Before I was a mom...




I'm supposed to be on my way to Utah right now with my dearest love. Just he and I (and well, two other men, but no kids). It was to be a weekend of enlightenment and good times for all.

Until...

Waylon decided to participate in a fun little barf-o-rama that began just before bedtime yesterday and lasted ALL NIGHT LONG. So at home I sit... because I am a mom.

Before I was a mom I could selfishly do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I could jet set the world over if it suited my fancy without worrying about the needs of anyone else.

Only...

It didn't suit my fancy to live for myself. Because before I was a mom all I wanted was-- to be a mom.

Barf... missed opportunities... and all.

Of course that doesn't mean I can't be bummed about the barf... missed opportunities... and all.

Because I am.

But at least those kiddos o' mine are worth the sacrifice.

So very, very worth it.

Run, run as fast as you can you can't catch me I've got Jack...

Lately I've been feeling a little like Forest Gump in that I want to keep running and running and running. I feel like I need to be out in nature more to clear my head and contemplate things.

Saturday night I went out with Waylon to lie on the trampoline, gaze at the stars and try to think, but then the sprinklers came on and sent us both running for the house.

Last night I told the fam, "I'm going for a walk. Who wants to come?" All but Landon joined me, but when we found that we had walked too far from the house Paige called Landon (ah, cell phones) and he drove over to pick us up. I wanted to keep walking but because it was eight thirty and we were on a dark and secluded dirt road my sweet protective husband asked me please not to.

What I really need is to get out by myself and run. I need quiet time to reflect and ponder, to form the words that need to be written down in those letters to myself (that I spoke of in an earlier post). Until I find that psychiatrist or vault friend I NEED TO RUN. Of course running with a vault friend and or psychiatrist would be even better (will psychiatrists run with you) but for now I'm hoping that if I run with Mr. Jack the dog my husband won't object to me being out alone.

Jack's fierce (Lily, not so much) and he'll rip the head off of any who try to mess with me.

I hope.

Okay, I'll tell you...

Well there certainly aren't a shortage of memes out in the blogsphere to get involved in. They're EVERYWHERE. So many in fact that it's hard to decide on just one.

But today I'm going to join with My Little Life for Five Question Friday because I don't feel like thinking too hard this morning and I'm hoping that answering questions will be easy. Plus her button is really cute. Just look at it. Cuteness.

So let's get started with today's Five Questions...




1. If you could go back to college would you change your major? Or, if you were to go to college right now...what major would you choose?

Because my major seemed to be "How to be a goofball and have as much fun as possible" then I would say YES I would definitely change my major. I've kicked myself many times through the years for not taking college more seriously (or seriously at all) back when I had the chance. If only my young self had known that that was her moment to grab opportunity and run with it. If only she had known how hard it would be to get it back later. And that's where I find myself now...

I've arrived at "later" and now it's time to get serious and figure out just what I want to be when I grow up. My baby is starting school this year and I think it would be great if I could too, but since I've already gotten that degree in being a goofball and having fun, I have no idea what to major in this time around. Hmm...

2. What do you love most about your home?

Oh my home. A subject that sends me running straight to the psychiatrist's office (if only I had a psychiatrist). I have a love hate relationship with my house. It's beautiful, it's spacious, it's surrounded by wonderful people. So what's the problem? You ask. Unless you're a psychiatrist you really don't want to know it's really far too deep and utterly ridiculous to get into. But though I've struggled with this for some time I think it's beginning to get better. Yes I think it is.

Despite all of this however, I can tell you that my favorite thing about my home is the ginormous family room at the far corner of the upper story. Notice I said "far corner" which is why it's my favorite thing especially when we have gatherings with many children or sleepovers with many children. We don't hear a thing. Fabulous.

3. What types of books do you like to read (if you like to read at all)?

While most young people can be found reading the latest fantasy or romance novel, when I was a young girl it wasn't unusual to find me with books with titles such as "Children's Hospital" or "True Stories from the ER" Of course I did read some romance, I am a girl after all, but my favorite stories have always been those of the real life human experience. And while my favorite book, the one I've read the very most is "The Hiding Place" about an amazing woman who ended up in a concentration camp during WWII, I'd have to say that I have spent much of my time reading stories of a medical nature.

In college I did a report on a book about the surgeons of the Civil War and I've read my copy of a medical encyclopedia so many times that the cover has fallen completely off.
Hmm... I think I may have found my major.

4. What is the grossest thing you've ever eaten?

While on a recent juice fast, I found a recipe for a homemade vegetable juice concoction that was supposed to be SO GOOD for strengthening my body. I think I spent a small fortune getting all of the vegetables for that juice only to turn around and DUMP IT DOWN THE DRAIN. It had to be the nastiest thing I have ever tasted, my salivary glands are spurting in protest right now just thinking about it. Trust me, I would never have poured that much money down the sink if there was any way around it but it was THAT BAD. Bluck.

5. If you HAD to be a character on a TV show, whom would you be?

This one is hard for me. I don't watch a lot of fictional television (refer back to question 3) and I have no desire to be any of the characters I watch on reality TV. They're all off their nut. I'm trying to remember if there was a TV character I really wanted to be back when I was a young single girl but I'm drawing a blank (my favorite, favorite show as a teen was "North and South" maybe I'd want to be Madeline (I think that was her name) on that show so I could smooch on that hunky, hunky Orie Maine or however you spell it (Patrick Swayze) or maybe I'd be Ashton Maine for a day because she was so delightfully evil).

Then again if I was a young single girl right now maybe it would be fun to be the Bachelorette for a season. But then I have a very hard time being mean to people and just might end up with an entourage of 20 guys following me around for the rest of my life because I'd just have to give them all a rose. Wait, I lie...

It's been so long since I've been single that I've forgotten my breakup history. Sever and run. That was my pattern. Sever a limb (my limb, his limb whatever) if you have to and high tail it out of there. Never looking back, never becoming "just friends" just run (I was never good with breakups. My older kids have heard the stories and they think I'm evil. Hmm... maybe I should be Ashton Maine after all).