I have been told that in order to have self esteem, you must do esteemable acts. How hard it is to take action when the self esteem is so low it registers a negative number? I can tell you. It is pretty damn hard.

I went to the gym today. That is hard when you have negative self esteem. Everyone else around me was better than me. They worked harder. The looked better. They sweated more. I was...

Without.


I am not sure when my self image got so low. In high school, I was a crazy person. I was on a sports team (cross country, swimming or soccer depending on the quarter). I was in a lot of clubs. I was a part of a production (either at school or church or a private concert for violin or piano). I was a decent student: out of 6 classes I made A's and B's with one inevitable C by one point. I went to church on Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings and evenings and sometimes even Fridays and Saturdays. I had a lot going on and was constantly on the go. I was crazy because even with all of those activities, I always felt like I didn't fit in. I had so many groups I interacted with and none of them was I apart of wholly. I didn't go to school with the youth in the church. I didn't go to the same piano or violin teacher as the kids in the performing arts. I loved the performing arts, but I played instruments, I didn't sing and dance. I was in dance classes but I was an athlete. Nothing fit. I don't know that I had a best girlfriend the entire time I was in high school. I was only ever asked out once in highschool and I never went out on a date. Too boot, I was a mean, arrogant, judgemental girl. I don't know that this made me have low self esteem, but it is the first time I am cognizant of having low self esteem. I don't know that when I was in highschool I was aware my esteem was low because I was still figuring out who I was. I never was worried about my body though. I never found low self esteem in my body image. Of course how can you when you dance for an hour and then after school do a sport for an hour? Two hours of working out everyday makes anyone sleek and wonderful.

I don't know how I got to negative self esteem, but I know that I have it. I know mentally that when I do things like go to the gym, it creates self esteem. So in that sense, I have more esteem than I did yesterday. If I could do that everyday: just do one esteemable act, perhaps I could recreate a ground zero. Maybe even go into the positive numbers of low self esteem. I don't know.

God grant me the strength and courage.

I have so many letters to write today. I have three blogs to finish, two thank you letters, two belated birthday cards and two real omg letters to two people who are patiently waiting...

I have so many pieces to play today. I have a Bach Invention to polish, two sontinas I am working on and two real omg hymns to learn of two hymns who have been patiently waiting my whole life to be learned and played...

I have so many rooms to clean. I have a bathroom that has put up with three people this week instead of two. I have a kitchen that has a trash filled from not just me while John was at work and two real omg sinks full of dishes desperate to be washed, waiting patiently...

I have so many movies to watch. I have one that was ordered last week and is still not watched and may never make it into the dvd player before being returned to netflix which is like omg, rae didn't watch a movie? Meanwhile the others that know it is their turn out of the library of good movies scream to be played...

I have so many groceries to buy...

I have so many flowers to arrange...

I have so many friends to say hello to ...

I have so many phone calls to make to catch up on life...

I have so many dogs to love...

I have so many, so many, so many things to do.

Gonna rise up

Find my direction magnetically

Gonna rise up

Throw down my ace in the hole



I live on this farm in these mountains, but once in a while a get-a-way is necessary. Then the trek to the rents and back again, just a little away, not too far away, comes to be. After a bit of time in the more southern part of the state yet not considered south because it is not as far as Macon; after a little bit of love from Mom, fetching with the Patches and singing from Dad, I start on the back again part of the trek. As I ride to music (eddie vedder preferably), I find myself moved in different directions. It is traveling music that allows me to appreciate my drive and its surroundings.


As I came around that curve, you know, the curve where the ATL skyline bursts through for the first time and no matter how much traffic you are surrounded by, it just strikes you. It strikes you every time. Stunning. To me, if feels like I am seeing home again. It makes my heart gasp. Coincidentally, traffic slows right at that point as well, which is good so I can soak it all in. The architecture of the buildings, the crazy billboards, the signs marking familiar places I know so well. The cityscape weaves through overpasses and sudden shifts in the traffic that makes me pay attention to the road. Then as I move over left to go northeast instead of west and then back to the right again allowing me access to the road that stops short getting me home, I pay a toll of fifty cents only to find my company includes vehicles that live in this nostalgic place: mercedes, lexus, bmw...beautiful cars for a beautiful city.

As I wait in line to pay my $.50, I wonder, what would it be like to live here again? Would I be employed instead of in school? Would I be successful? Would I have dogs? Who would my friends be? Would I be married? Would I be sober? It's my turn to pay: "thank you."

The farther north I ride, the less expensive the cars are: they go from sports cars to mom busses to work trucks to farm trucks. The farther north I ride, the smaller the buildings get. The building of last resort is where the road says that it is ending and on the other side of the stop light it gets a new name which makes it local instead of stately; is a home depot that built its self into the side of a mountain and fought long and hard for a too tall sign and lost. Then the buildings are but farm houses and barns. The pastures stretch and the architect of this landscape is not human. There are trees taller and older than most anyone who lives in the farm houses. There are tucked away bbq smoke houses. There are fruit stands with fresh produces parked at the main road that carries me to my farm, there at the last stop light.

The next twenty miles are all God's country. There are stopsigns instead of stoplights. The "traffic" consists of a man on his tractor carrying a round bale to another part of his farm and had to surface on the two lane road to get there. Despite the double yellow line, there is time and ability to pass him, but not without a wave and a smile. The roads begin to curve. They go up and down and all around. Soon, there is no way to go over 20 miles an hour to get through the dead man's curve and I am almost home. Turning right at the winery, I can see the workers tending to the vines. Last turn...

My whole body begins to relax, knowing it is within walking distance to the farm. But as a reminder as to why I call my farm home, coming around a curve, the sky opens up to a magnificent mountain picturesque scene and I know. I know that I would never be the person I am today. I know that no matter how enticing the city can be, I would never have met the man of my dreams; I would never have these dogs; I would never be in school; I would never have my best friend I have; I would never have stayed sober but rather fought a losing fight.

I would never be me in that city. I know, that I am, I am right where I am supposed to be. I am finished with the trek back again. I am home.

Why is feminism percieved as something bad?



From Websters:
Main Entry: fem·i·nism
Pronunciation: \ˈfe-mə-ˌni-zəm\
Function: noun
Date: 1895
1 : the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes

2 : organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests
— fem·i·nist \-nist\ noun or adjective
— fem·i·nis·tic \ˌfe-mə-ˈnis-tik\ adjective



Why wouldn't I want to be treated equally in all aspects of my life or have someone argue on my behalf to be treated equally? My rights and interests: wouldn't that include things like work, play, home, faith, relationships with others including my husband, children and future children, parents, siblings, friends: why wouldn't I want something like this in my life? Why is it considered bad? Why wouldn't I be considered a lady for desiring equality?

Can you tell I've been trolling on your site Vicki?

I found a link to LAF. It seems like this great site for conservative women, yet I find fallacy in its name. It is not that the site is about "Ladies Against Feminism." I read the starter as suggested and the who we are section and I have to disagree with the name of the site. In reality it is all about women who are feminists to the nth degree. I was so proud to see women being women on that site. What the site really is, is Conservative Feminism. Liberals don't write the book on feminism, although they do cause a lot of ruckus ever since that bra burning incident in the 60's which will never be forgotten. In order to be a feminist just means you are to be female and have rights and interests. There is no question that LAF has interests and rights. I don't agree with half of them, but I respect that someone stands up and states a position even if I don't agree with it. It is the fundamental of freedom of speech. A fundamental that as an American woman, I have the right to practice and so does LAF, supported by her site. I think she is the epitome of feminism and her campaign against liberal feminism almost proves the point of feminism, which is in some wild way ironic and ridiculous, which takes the power out of her persuasion from her soap box on which she stands.

I would much more be attracted to her site if she stood for honesty which is that she is not against feminism so much as is a conservative feminist and that is just okay to be.

Ever have reality hit you in the chest so hard it makes you gasp? Had that happen to me the other day when I realized that my step son wasn't just staying for the weekend, rather moved into my little farm house. That is not so easy to sneak into, but he was stealthy about it and commandeered his Dad in order to make it happen. One thing is for sure: I am totally a new wife. When I was asked if my step son could come and stay, I said sure. NEW WIFE. Old wife would have said "for how long?" or "can we talk about this?" or "I need to think about it." New wife says, "sure" and two days later says, "wait what did I say yes to? oh, no....".

Just when I think this whole wife stuph is old hat, they sneak a new one in on me.

When that "no smoking" sign goes off it makes a ding and you'll know everything is going to be alright.

Okay, where's the ding? Where's the ding?

It's comin....I promise its coming, just wait for it.

Okay....














Ding.

daisies are the friendliest flowers

Today at the healing service, which I highly suggest to anyone who just needs to feel loved, the homily was on God's presence with us. Our priest is so poetic in her oration: "To be in God's presence is to let ourselves be swept away with the Divine Tide." Isn't that the truth of the matter? If I just let go, God always, always, always, takes ahold and things go smoothly. Then the Bible study just after that with the DOK was on Romans. Romans is a hard book, especially when taken in chunks. The versus we read were from Chapter 8, 1-11.

I like verse 2: For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death.

and I like verse 9, the first part: However, you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you.

I have worked very hard in this life of mine to become happy, joyous and free. Lately, I have noticed that there is a lot of prejudice in many of the people I learn from towards my faith. not My faith, but my Faith. They don't hold any prejudice towards me. It has been a burden to listen to those who ride the tide of spiritual kindergarten only to find that they can only teach me the ABC's. I have had a thirst for more. I started asking around in those circles of women if there was any interest in studying the Gospels with me and found only one yes. I told God to show me women who want to study the Gospels, or the Bible or something more than the ABC's. I need more! Today, happily, I landed square in the middle of women who are full of wisdom and knowledge of the Bible and my Faith.

These versus we stumbled into and around in Romans made me realize that through my Faith, I am free. It also reminded me that while I associate with those who are in spiritual kindergarten, I am not isolated. I am not alone. The Spirit dwells within me. I am truly a spiritual being having a human experience. I am not alone. That prejudice and antagonism seems to fall by the wayside when I shift my perception to embrace my Faith. All men of courage have Faith. I just have to have the courage to carry that Faith, to seek that Spirit that dwells within me when faced with those who carry the prejudice and adversity. Although, I do not rebuke my ABC's. Without them, there is no possibility to have the Faith that I have today. I just will put them at the beginning of this Spiritual Experience.

And so it begins...



The cows are going to slaughter. Actually, just the calfs go. This seems so aweful if you are a pet lover, but these cows are not pets, they are car payments. So Albert took 8 youngins off to market this morning. This means nothin to him, he lives on the other farm. Me, however, it means a lot to because I live here where the babies were taken from. My husband is to work so he is laughing that I am stuck on the farm. Why is it such a big deal? The mothers cry for their young for three days. They don't cry like boo hoo. They cry like moo moo. It is how they call their young when they are too far away from the heard or time to eat or lost. So they will look and cry for three days...and nights. They will break away from the heard and go looking for the youngins so that they are all discombobulated. They roam all over the place crying for their young...and all night. Sometimes they get stuck right outside my window...all night. Luckily, I can scare em off if it gets too much, but still, it is loud and it is painful. And it is three days of mooing...and three nights.

Lack of Power is my Dilemma...

this is the underlying factor for many things in psychology including alcoholism/addiction, borderline personality, codependency, and anxiety disorder. i hear over and over that alcohol is but a symptom, the underlying crux is control. people who have panic attacks have stress induced attacks brought on by a percieved lack of control aka fear. while there is medication to treat panic attacks, therapy is better...irrational fear is percieved, not real. then there is real fear: omg i might die, a black bear is chasing me. although... if the bear is not there, heavy psychotic meds will be administered at once, but that has nothing to do with power, that is more on the side of crazy...ha

so today, this afternoon, a gun shot rang out at our farm. my husband was outside watering the dogs when he hit the ground. i came running outside to see if he was okay only to find him perturbed that someone was discharging a weapon on the farm and we didn't know about it. he drove out into the pasture to look for someone near the stump dump because that was the direction the sound came from. i went back into the house...to find the entire house was without power. the percieved fear of a gunshot was really a transformer on the property and one unhappy bird. talk about powerlessness...

people say that medication can treat irrationality, but in reality, faith is the only truth that works for fear...my husband was not afraid to go out into the pasture looking for someone holding a weapon, despite the underlying fear that if someone was out there he could have been shot. that faith brought out the truth that a person was not the culprit of the racket, just an unsuspecting animal. my husband was not afraid. this is new because ten years ago he was.

lately i have had some strange dreams, violent, drunken dreams. i have had a hard time understanding what was going on. i finally realized that eight years ago, about this time, i was so heavily intoxicated, i can't remember days. not like hey, i can't remember what i did last night, but hey i can't remember what i have done since i got on a plane in orlando and flew back into atl on the fourth of july and now it is the tenth of july and i don't remember anything in between. strangley, i went to work, i went to the bar with friends, and i probably came home, maybe. those are just guesses. i think the reasons for my dreams are due to the powerlessness i was experiencing eight years ago both over alcohol and in the figurative language of "boom, boom out go the lights" when i drank. i was anesticizing myself in order to not have fear. i had no control and in order to become empowered, i had to come to believe in a power greater than me.

i still have a lot of fear today, but not the irrational fear i once had. i have a lot more faith today. one thing is for sure, i remain powerless.

I threw my first party last night. Not as in first party ever. My first party ever was a back to school party when I was sixteen. But it was my first party as a Mrs and at the farm. Now, just like then, not everyone came who I wanted to come, showed and then there were those who didn't stay long enough. Strangely, this seems to be the way it goes with parties. People who say they will show up don't and people who say they can't make, miraculously do! It was a fun evening setting expectations aside. Cleaning the house all day wasn't all that fun. I was almost so tired by the time the party started that I was willing to say so sorry, we cancelled it. But I didn't thankfully. We grilled out burgers and had pot luck sides. The house was lovely and the evening perfect. Everyone brought citrenella which SO really helped, and as a result, we are fully stocked for another hang-out-get-together. We bought tiki torches from the dollar store for more than a dollar but cheaper than the home depot tiki torch that was more than a dollar. So between the tiki's, the candles and the bug juice, we were bug free.

I got some nice shots while there was still light. They are my friends:

This is DonnaRae.

She wins the award for best t-shirt ever.

She also has a great name becasue it includes the name RAE. This is her husband, Lee, who is the first person I've met that used the word "schlep" correctly in a sentence. They are yanks via Florida who moved to North Georgia as a result of a work transfer. They are such city folks. It is cool that they showed up when they did because we had another set of friends who were yanks via Florida who left to return to Florida about the same time. It was an good, even trade.

This is Gena and Bella or Bella-bug as I call her. In our family there are Kellybug and Jennybug so Bella Bug just happens into my language. Gena is a long-time, dearly loved friend who had this perfect child about two years ago. In this pic Bella is playing in the dog's water bowl while ringing the chimes hanging over it. It was her very own game of splash and ring. She was a hoot the whole night. During the fireworks she kept saying "More Mama! More!" In case you are curious, yes she is always dressed this cute.

This is one of mine and John's oldest and dearest friends, Nicki. Nicki is the only one out of my friends who can not just make my brother smile, but make Carter burst into outright, full throated laughter. Nicki is always full of jokes and smiles. And last night, not to outdo himself, he made my day. He brought fireworks last night. When I think of someone bringing fireworks, I think of blackcats or sparklers or a roman candle or two. Oh NO. Not Nicki. We had fireworks like the kind at the end of a Braves game or at Stone Mountain or at the lake in Avondale. It was UNbelivable. They were cannons that scared the heck out of my pups and lit up the sky. It was UNreal. He must have brought $100 worth or fireworks. They were so cool that people offered to help him pay for them when it was all said and done. I couldn't believe that we had real fireworks at the farm. Who'd of guessed I'd throw a real Fourth of July party? One thing is for sure: thanks to Nicki, more people will show up next year.

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear MEEEEEEEEE....Happy Birthday to me! HAHA!

Yes, I got a piano for my birthday. In case you are curious, it is a $35 piano I bought at a garage sale this weekend. It took two women and John to load it on the truck. It took John and an older man, who just happened up from floating down the creek that boarders our property, to get it in the sun room. It took me and John to get it over the hump from the sun room into the spot its in right now. Woohoo! The first song I played on it was "Rejoice, the Lord is King" from my Music Makers awarded hymnal for perfect attendence during the 82-83 school year at First Baptist Decatur. It is a 1975 version. Hurray!!!! I have a piano!! My music quest is coming to life.

Waiting with baited breath