Ah, the Martini Gavotte. I didn't know realize what the Martini Gavotte was for when I was growing up. It was just another song in another book that was meant to graduate from by the end of the school year so that I could play in the spring concert and get an award. At the top of the page in my Book 3 of the Gavotte, there are four numbers across the top: 3 4 3 4 low 1. My only guess to this cryptic notation is that those were the fingerings that wer the hardest. There are also fours that are scribbled all over on the song and low ones. Tonation is hard for a young person playing violin. Tonation is hard for me now. I have always had a hard time with my fourth finger. When I would play with the pinkie it would go flat, like a locked knee. I've know that it was not supposed to do that. Dr. Jacobson used to try and help me get it so it would curve like the rest of the fingers. Never happened. It still goes flat. I remember at one point her yanking my elbow forward and the curve happened. Unfortunately, I never really practiced it and thus she couldn't get me to do it correctly. Today, I practiced it. I pulled the elbow around and practiced a curved pinkie fourth finger on every string. My pinkie is weak and the sound was not great, but I practiced. Now my pinkie is sore and my arm aches a little, but hopefully my hand will remember the skill and I can apply it. When I played the piece again, sometimes my finger still went flat, but sometimes not. It is like every thing else that is: discipline, practice, it is a process of learning. It is good to be playing music again.

I am listening to Beetoven's Symphony No. 9. It is the cd that my Dad is on, it won a grammy. You are welcome to stop reading this blog now in order to go put in your own copy of that music to play along.

I'll wait.


When I was a little girl, when I was in the womb, my parents were producing music. You know how you see those commercials of a woman playing music to her baby belly with the headphones wrapped around her and oh aint that cute, she'll have a smart baby because she is playing it Mozart? My parents didn't need headphones for me to listen to music. They made music. You are guaranteed that I my Mom's baby belly was rocked by some of the racket my Dad makes with his voice. He still does that today. He'll be in the kitchen reading the newspaper and something will trigger a song in his head and bursts into full vocal operatic baritone beauty. (And it always sounds good in the kitdhen, good acoustics) That is the way my family is. We sing a Christmas blessing before Christmas dinner. If the Pettits are with us, we sing in four part harmony. I think I have been going to choir practice since before I was born. I know the entire soprano part to the Halleluia Chorus and I have never read the score. My friend Matt Durden, he knew he bass part. He actually reads the score now though. My bet is that he went to choir practice last night. My parents sang, played instruments, led choirs. I had music not just in my played into my Mama's belly, it was in my blood, it was in my ambiotic fluid. It helped give me life.

My brother, kind man that he is, took me as his date to the symphony. The Atlanta Symphony. He didn't know where it was. That's funny because I have gone to the symphony so much, I can't not know where it is. It is next to the house that belongs to an elderly woman, who wouldn't sell her land to AT & T so they built a skyscraper less than 50 feet from her back door. It is still there. On the other side of the symphony, there is the HIGH. When I was in elementary school we used to take field trips there and all the kids would ooo and ahhh. I loved to look up. It seemed as though the ceilings were as far away as the sky.

When I walked into Symphony Hall with my kind brother, I felt like I was missing a huge part of me. I felt like I had walked into my home. That is silly to say because I am not a season ticket holder of the symphony. It is not something that my parents raised me back stage. I am not that dramatic. I don't think it was the place that made me feel that way. I think it was knowing that there were musicians there. Music was there.

At some point in the fantastic evening of the Berlioz Requiem (which who writes a death march that is overwhelmingly fabulous?), my brother asked me what I was doing musically lately. Nothing. I'm doing nothing. I listen in my car. I sing to worship at church and everyone wants me in the choir. I am doing nothing.

I took piano from the time I was eight until I was twenty-one. I played Chopin nocturnes. I took violin from the time I was three until I was eighteen and then again at 21 for a life saving one hour credit that allowed me to graduate college. I sang in youth choirs. I sang solos at church even though I wasn't that great.

What are you doing with music?

I have been disturbed ever since. At one point my husband was going to buy me a piano and then, he didn't. I wish he had. I wish we had the money now to buy one.

What I do have is an instrument that is pitiful at best. I do have my violin. It is a student model. It does not make a great noise, but then again, I probably couldn't make a great noise on it either.

I love this part in the symphony. It makes the hairs on my arms stand up. It is best heard at a loud volume. It will blow your hair back.

I pulled out my violin tonight, just to see. I figured if I tuned it, the strings would break. They did. The hair on the bow fell off. Not all of it, but a significant amount. There was no rosin in the case. Turns out it was on the floor next to the case. The bridge had to be reset. I dusted it. My mechanical tuner had a dead battery. I couldn't open the case to see what kind it needed. John got it open and it needs a 9V.

I am thinking, I am in school right now. There are violin teachers at the school. I am not really going for music. I am going to be a CPA. Same language, different dialect.

So what am I doing with music? I am thinking about it. I am listening to it. Maybe, just maybe tomorrow, when I get new strings, I will play it.

I love movies and sometimes tv because of the emotion it evokes in me. If I need to cry, Grey's Anatomy. If I need to remember that I am not alone? Breakfast Club. If I need to remember that I can conquer all odds? Rudy. If I just need to relax, I go to Green Gables.

Home agin, Home agin,
Jiggity Jig,
Home agin, Home agin,
Big Fat Pig

Home agin, Home agin,
Jiggity Jog,
Home agin, Home agin
Big Fat Hog!

Who am I to make you wait?

I thought about waiting until I got back to blog, but...

I miss my farm. I never thought that would be true. I mean I got to ride in a golf cart, got to go to the symphony and got to play with the prettiest dog in the world. So, why would I miss the farm?

I guess it has become home.

My stepson who is a black belt in karate is keeping the dogs and staying at the farm. I feel like this means that he will take care of my home. He is supposed to be installing some cabinetry on top of just eating us out of house and home and using our tv and internet. So not just taking care of my home, but improving it. That will be cool to come home to, a new cabinet to put stuph in.

I had no intention of being away from home so long, but things happen and then the homesickness sets in after so long. It will go away after while. I don't remember getting homesick too much when I was little. I remember calling my parents after two weeks at camp and asking if I could stay two more. They said no. But there was no homesickness then. So why now? I can't rightly say. Maybe it is part of this grown up stuph.

I will be glad when I can pet my dogs instead of someone else's dog or cat. I will be glad when I can go to my refridgerator, eat my no sugar, no white flour food. I will be glad to wake up in my own bed with my own quilt and my own teddy bear. Yes, at home, I sleep with a teddy bear. Two actually: Madison and Snickers. I have had snickers since I was one and madison since I was 21. They are my safety to make sure that no one takes me too seriously, including myself.

Although, I am traveling. This is not something I have had an opportunity to do much in my life. I get to spend good quality time with family. They are all people who I love and love me. This makes the homesickness, not so sickening. It makes me recognize the wealth I have in my life that is not nearly true for others. Did you know that one in five children are born into poverty in the United States? In the US? Can you believe? I have never been there. I have had the love of a mother and father, the love of a brother, the love of God, and here recently, the love of a husband and his family. That is still new and not sure what to do with all the extra new love that has come into my life. I just do my best to give it to other whom I run into along the way. I pray for strangers on the prayer list. I talk to anyone who calls me for help. There is only so much love you can store and you just have to give it away. The nice thing about having all the love is that there is less home sickness. So I guess I will just lean on the love a little more. There is a Bible verse that comes to mind: Trust the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding. And love the Lord, your God with heart, your soul and your mind. This helps too. So I will. I will miss my farm another day. ah the simple things...

The best dogs in the whole world. Farm life means having dogs. These two are accidents on our farm much like farm dogs are. You don't have to go to the pound in order to get a dog for a farm, all you have to do is walk outside one day and there they are. The black dog is Baby. She is an Austrailian Shepherd. She is a bit neurotic. Well, she was more neurotic when John got her. We were only dating when his son Eric, called John and pleaded to take this dog that the family that had her was going to have her put down. They had a family and a small yard and she was crazy. Initially, John had to chain her to the barn in order for her not to run for dear life. She was terrified and had been abused by a man. She didn't mind me petting her, but she flinched and went bezerk whenever John came close to her. Her neurosis calmed over time and now she knows that this is her home and nothing or no one will hurt her. She will always be fed, loved and have a safe place to be. So safe that a traveling sales man stopped through and surprise! she was pregnant. John is not one on taking the pets to the vet. The other dog he has, Red Dog, showed up fixed so he is not really all that interested in spending money on a useless dogs. But, turns out that pregnant dogs are no good for John either. So shortly after John and I were married in the dead of winter, Baby had babies. December eleven we think. She had seven and all seven lived through snow, cold and being born under a farm house. Out of the seven, five were given away. The girl pup went to Mom and Dad. She is by far the prettiest out of the litter, but totally inherited the neurosis. Mikey and Rocky were the two I kept. John wasn't giving away any dogs and I was giving away all the dogs and the last one made me cry so hard that I couldn't stand it. So we kept the last two. Someone decided that Rocky was pretty enough to steal and poof, he was gone off the farm. So now there is Mikey. Mikey is the best farm dog ever. He chases coyotes, calfs and crows. He is suspicious of anything or one that he has never seen before on the farm. Barks at anything that moves in the dark. Howls at the moon when he hears sirens. Baby still likes lovin more than any dog ever, but mostly likes hanging out with Mike. Although, Baby will from time to time go to the other farm and just hang out. Mikey is my dog. Red Dog is John's dog. Baby is the farm's dog. Mikey is my dog. Ahh...the simple things.

Reasons for a mudroom. Carter asked me a while back why we had a mudroom. My answer was due to living in the middle of a pasture. This is another reason for a mudroom. Pastures have foul agents that stick to the shoes. Generally speaking though, I don't go out into the pasture. There is not really a reason for me to be out there. So why do I have a muddroom? These shoes say it all.

They made the trek from the end of the driveway to the farm house. It is about an eighth of a mile from the road into the house. Our driveway began the grading process last week when it was sunny. The ground was dry and after two days of grading, our driveway was soft and ready to be completed with mixed gravel. Too bad, it rained. John made me take the Suburu down the driveway this morning knowing it would be slick and dangerous. I got out in time for my last exam, however, it was scary. So I decided to park at the road and walk in to the farm. The driveway was so soft that I sunk in the mud over and over and over. Ah, the simple things.

This is my kitchen window. Carter likes to hear stories about farm life. He is a big city kid/man so life on a farm is something he has only read about in books and maybe a bit in my blog. I haven't ever been a real photographer per se. Mostly Carter and my Dad take photos, but today I went out and took some. I have a standard digital point and shoot, nothing fancy, but finally compatible for computer. (Thanks Mom and Dad, btw.) I like this picture because it tells about the simplicity of farm life. Generally speaking, living on a farm and not being the farmer means living a very humble life. The farmer is pretty humble for that matter, but it is apparent that he doesn't have to be, he just always has been. This little flower was cut last Thursday. It was then stuck into an arrangement for church. From there, on Tuesday night, I snagged it out of the arrangement along with all the roses. The roses are almost gone, and were almost gone when I pulled them out for that matter, but this little snap dragon keeps on being beautiful. The bottle is something I picked up at Gertie Mae's when I lived at the Clarkesville apartment and have used ever since. It is an olive oil bottle. I think it is trendy. The thing about living on a farm is that the little things get noticed. I realized after being in a big house one day, there is no way to appreciate the little things, because everything was so big. I think I would rather stay in this old farm house and maybe fix it up or add a room and a porch than to buy a big house. Although, I may not have a choice one day due to not being the farmer. Its the simple things that I like about farm life.

Daily Morning Traffic Report for NEGA:

Watch out folks for the slow down on the driveway where it needs to be regraded, which will happen next week, so be preprared for that slow down then. Also, be aware of the lesbians who leave at exactly the same time everyday and drive the speed limit on less. They are repainting the bridge on towncreek church rd. so slow down. And finally watch out for the mad rush to walmart in dahlonega as no one will be able to get there on Friday due to the tour de ga comin thru, shutting down the town from 6 am until 6 pm. That's all for this channel blog news. Back to you---

I could eat fifty eggs...

****

If pro is the opposite of con, is progress the opposite of congress?

***

So why do you want to take the CPA exam?

--Because its easier than the bar?!

No, no actually it isn't. Its harder.

Wait a minute, so you're telling me that everytime I hear music, I'll hear sirens?

No.

So why not?

Because we get better.

We get better.

My Dad used to say that it would be better in the morning. He saved Mr. Walker's daughter by convincing her that it would be better in the morning. He saved her because it was true. It is always better in the morning. Mr. Walker gave me a Strawberry Shortcake ceramic lamp for that phrase. I can remember being drunk out of my mind and not being able to black out, pass out, throw up, or get drunk enough to get rid of the feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I could remember my Dad's story about it being better in the morning. Sometimes I would just drink until sun up to get to the morning. Sometimes I would just cry myself to sleep, knowing that morning was coming.

That is kind of the way it felt last night. It was a droning, spinning loneliness mixed with a little fear melted into total maddness. It is not something easily explained. It is what I used to drink up, smoke out and eat up. There are not many times that I talk specifically about the mental illness for which I am cursed/blessed, but last night I got an overwhelming desire to change the way I felt. Anything, just give me anything to change the way I feel. I know why people kill themselves. I know that hopelessness. I know that powerlessness. I know why people who do not have a memory of their Dad telling the story of a girl who made it through the night, don't make it through the night. It is painful. It gives me the spins when I try to sleep. It kept me awake until midnight last night and I was up at six this morning with a test in Algebra today at eleven. I just didn't want to take the test. I didn't want to live in this farm house. I didn't want to be married. I didn't want to be me. I wanted to runaway. I wanted to leave this planet. I wanted to change the way I feel.

Swathed in the emotion, I did the only thing I could think of to do: called Megan. But she didn't answer. No one else answers their phone at ten at night, so I had to go to plan b: writing. So I wrote until I couldn't focus and started the new harry potter, well not so new, book 6--again. Then I turned out the light around midnight.

I woke up this morning, soaked in hangover emotion. It made my head feel like a weight, unbalanced and tipsy, like it was going to fall off my neck. Luckily mornings are a fast process for me and out the door to school I went: distracted and unattached. When Meg called me back today, she told me the truth. She told me that she has felt the same way for about three weeks. Maddness, total maddness.

I am not the only one who feels like this. I am not the only one. It's not just me. I am not alone.

I can feel the insanity in my muscles, my blinks, my typing, my toes when they cross. There is a reason people don't celebrate anniversaries between year 5 and year 10: year almost 8 is really, really insane. This happened at six and a half too. It went away around seven and a bit. But now? Now it is tenfold the feeling of seven. I am ready for year ten now.

I watched friend after friend pick up a drink to change the way they felt. Each of them did it between year 5 and year 10. Those who made it to 10, made it. It is soooo much like a novel. The insanity is like a work of fiction.

There is a phrase that is tossed around like frisbee. It what my Dad said to Mr. Walker's daughter in a cliche. It is the reason I will wait out this thing that is happening under my surface...

This too shall pass.

Today the weather on my google side bar says that the lo 43/hi 72 and the current temp is 36. So I look on my igoogle and it says that the lo 46/hi 70 and the current temperature is 36. Just to make sure that the weather people are all so consistent in their errors, I go to weather dot com and it says that it is 50 degrees, feels like 50 degrees and the high is 76.

CAN YOU SAY NO ONE KNOWS WHAT THE WEATHER IS IN NGA?

Honesty is a big word, and, it changes things, and, it complicates things and, are you sure your ready for everything that goes along with telling the truth?

Gotta love being cursed with an overzealous sense of self awareness. It makes for great drama. In the drama of life, things today are high class. In the drama of life, I have borne witness to a lot of it this week. Some of it was my drama, some of it wasn't. Some of it was drama that I have had before and some of it, I never want it to be mine again. God is my New Employer and that struggle with despair, I don't ever have to do again. Marilla says to despair is to turn your back on God. I have despaired before, I have been in the depths of despair before, but I am never going back.

I have heard that if it ain't practical, it probably ain't spiritual. If it ain't right, don't do it. If it ain't yours, don't take it. If it ain't so, don't say it. Honesty is such a power breaker for pride, envy, lust, greed, sloth, gluttony and wrath. Honesty sweeps over me with a God-consciousness that I don't know where it came from or why It chose me. As I look at my day today, as I look at my week this week: I saw what was right in front of me as someone being dishonest. Most importantly, self dishonesty in someone else. What I didn't see, is the simple, sneaky, cunning dishonesty of myself.

I made a very low B on my test the other day. I told myself that the professor set me up to fail. That he was rude and belittling not just to me, but to the class as a whole. And he was rude. And he is belittling. Now that I see it, he has had the same act the whole semester. What I didn't realize is that he is not the one who is setting me up to fail, I was. I haven't studied like I did last semester. I haven't taken the same actions I did last semester in order to earn an A. That is why I have a B in marketing, which I don't care about marketing because marketing is boring and unrelated to what I want. But accounting is what I want. For no apparent reason, my sloth? my pride? my hopeless nature for self destruction that wins me big points against self esteem and confidence and takes me downward a road that has a spiral effect...

And then there is a manner of living that demands rigorous honesty, not honesty with others although that is helpful, rather honesty of self, which is what God sees when the day is done.

I didn't study enough for the last test. I might end up with a 3.5 this semester. Ahh...the drama of life. Next we decide in the hereafter in this drama of life, God is going to be our Director. 3.5 GPA is a high class problem for me. I'll take that drama anyday.

I like my drama better than other's dramas. I watched someone lie to themselves again: laying the brick in the walk of that rapid, downward spiral. I just am not willing to give up the life that I lead today to be a brick layer.

Ever have one of those days? You know those days?

You hear people talk about those days all the time right? Like everyone knows what on earth those refers to? Well, I have had one of those mornings of those days. I woke up and didn't want to get up. I was so wrapped in fear of my test today that I almost couldn't move. So I prayed. Then, I prayed again. I got out of bed and I got on my knees and ask God to bless me, bless me indeed, bless me a lot, that I might better do His will and not harm others. Yeah, the harm others came shortly there after. I began my routine only to find that I couldn't find my pencil case. I needed my pencil case for the test. And just like that--like getting hit by a sudden tornado--I was a wreck. I tore up my house looking for a pencil case. My poor husband tried to help and there was no help to be had. In the end, he got yelled at. So much for no harm. Once the case was finally found; once the fear of the test was finally acknowledged; once I was sitting down, reading my meditations despite hot cheeks and a headache; once I was back in slight balance, I apologized to my husband and tried to make things right. I asked God to remove the fear and turn my thoughts to what He would have me do (which was feed the dogs). I went to school and took the damn test.

I still have left over fear. It hangs inside of me because I don't know if I got one question right that hooked five other questions. So either I made a high A or a C. My insides are no longer in panic mode, but there is the feeling in the base of my heart of not knowing. That heavy sinking feeling.

Why can't I just lean on God like every normal person instead of turning into a tornado of fear? Rather than indulge that heavy feeling, I have tried to help someone else who is learning to trust God too. I have prayed for God to remove the fear. And now, here I am writing about the fear. I don't know why I want to be the star student. But I know that a lot of my self worth is tied into my grades. Somehow, someday I will let go of that emotional attachment and let God take over that part of my life. Then my self worth will no longer be about my grades, rather that I am a beautiful child of God and worthy of His love.

Well, I have lost seven pounds. I have lost two dress sizes and seven pounds. This doesn't make sense to me at al...so much so that I asked a trainer, my husband and a girlfriend all that question: WHY? Why can't I lose 17 pounds and two sizes? All three people say the same thing: muscle weighs more than fat. What? So why wouldn't I lose seventeen pounds of fat? I mean, I have had no sugar or white flour for four months. I am so pissed I am not at least ten pounds down.

It doesn't make sense.

But when whine to my brother and I say "I've lost seven pounds," he is astonished.

"Wow, that's great," he says. For the first time, I felt good about losing seven pounds.

"It is against the body's instinct to lose weight, so losing seven pounds is a big deal." That never occurred to me. "Besides losing two dress sizes means you are losing it the right way, you must be working out too."

I went through three people before I felt good about losing weight. I don't know what my brother said differently than the others. I know not once did he say, muscle weighs more than fat---that make no sense to me! I am not able to understand density and weight, thus the reason I am NOT nor never will be a scientist. He told me about things that I could understand. Yeah, I guess the body wouldn't much like to lose weight, I mean what happens if it starves? There are no reserves? It likes reserves. What my body doesn't know is I am an American, it's not likely I'll go hungry. I mean, if it gets really bad, there is always a soup kitchen. The theory that I might starve is the natural instinct, makes sense. Losing weight the right way, that makes sense to me. It means that I am taking care of me. Whenever I am taking care of me, I am in the will of God. Aligning God's will with my will isn't the easiest nut to crack, but one thing is for sure, God doesn't want me drinkin, smokin or meddlin in other people's affairs. He wants me to fit for Him. Thus, me taking care of me, puts me in His will.

Why is it, the older I get, the more my brother makes sense to me? Sometimes I wonder if he made this much sense when I was growing up.

Could you drop everything in your life on the promise of a stranger that there is a better way to live your life?

I watched this woman walk away from life as she knew it today. Everything in her world that she had ever experienced just went out the window. She called me in a panic. Her boyfriend was screaming at her at the top of his lungs. She was "jones-in" for dope. I told her to start walking, there is a better life over here. She grabbed her purse and cigarettes and did just that. Walked out on her life.

Can you imagine?

It is like something out of a movie.

I have done that before. I wasn't conscious that was what I was doing, but I have done that before. I didn't know what was wrong with me, all I knew is that it couldn't get any worse. I was willing to do what anyone told me to, know matter how much I didn't like it or didn't want to. Then, I came to. I was stuck in a place that wouldn't let me out. I had a roommate whose name was Beatrice, who told me to call her Beelzebub and was paranoid schizophrenic.

At that point, the resistance set in.

I don't know if this gal will experience resistance or not, but today she was willing to go to any lengths to change her life. I was full of awe. It makes me realize now that I am so far away from my moment of clarity. It made me recognize the resistance that I have today. She showed me where I came from and where I'll go to if I fail to enlarge my spiritual life. It made me remember that I don't ever have to go back to the place she was in and I have been. It made me see the peace and ease with which God has given me as a way to live today. I don't ever have to crave anything. I don't ever have to obsess over anything. I don't have have to loathe myself or others. I don't have to use anything to change the way I feel. I know the manner of living which guarantees a joyful life. I know that God is ever present and awaiting for me to ask for His help.

God Help Me. God Help Her.

God,
Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things that I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

There is nothing more soothing than waking up on your own, no alarm clock and no husband telling you to get out of bed, beginning your day with willingness and having a storm roll in to drop water steady on the tin roof. This morning no one is here with me. It is just me and Mikey who is the best dog in the world. It was such a warm morning that I went out to brush my teeth outside. I know that is weird, but my husband doesn't like the dog in the house and so when I want to pet the dog, I go out on the front stoop. It just happened this time to coincide with me brushing my teeth.

Then I started to clean. I was just so willing to clean my house, that I didn't even notice that is what I was doing. I don't normally enjoy cleaning so much, but lately, I am finding that if I will listen to my insides of willingness, it is amazing what gets done. So this morning after my morning prayers and teeth brushing, I was willing to clean. I did dishes (which for those who don't know, we are a little farm house and a dishwasher would not match the place, so we hand wash all of our dishes around here: thus the necessity for willingness!). I even stripped the bed and threw in a load of laundry with the sheets. I now know why I don't have any socks. I look forward to having every pair I own in about an hour or so. Yesterday, I was not willing to do all that. It feels good to naturally do something instead of doing something while being unwilling. That resistance of not wanting to makes the task so painful.

As I was cleaning, a storm literally rolled in like you hear about in a Garth Brooks song. It was such a pleasant thing, not scary at all. You can see the cusp of the storm out my kitchen window and just beyond are the mountains. It was beautiful. I love the way the rain sounds on the tin roof. People try to record that sound, but I don't know that its possible. The only downside to the rain is that it brings mud to the spring where our water for the house is drawn. That means no more laundry because the water will be to muddy to wash with, but maybe that is not such a bad thing. It also means no drinking water for about a day or two until the mud cleans out. Thus the reason for bottled water.

I am slowly beginning to like living out here at the farm. There are still things that I want to do in order to get it into a home instead of a bachelor pad, but they will come in time.

I get to go be a maid of honor today. Meg has an appointment with my favorite florist, Gertie Mae's, for her wedding flowers. Meg and I were on the phone until two in the morning looking at bride's maid dresses on-line. She is so funny about her tastes. She and I totally don't agree in that area, so when I see something I don't like I would tell her about it and sure enough, she loves it. My understanding is that is the traditional way it should be. Bridesmaids never like the dresses. Meg wants us to have a dress that we would wear again, but there is nothing about taupe or peach that I would ever wear again. Oh well. It is a good thought. The really nice thing is that she finds the best deals on things so it will probably be the least amount I will ever pay for a dress of any kind not to mention for a bridesmaid dress. She is a thrifty thing. I am grateful to be of service to her. She is my best friend and it is not often that she'll let you love her.

I have also found an old friend again. I love that. My brother says that love has no time boundaries. This gal that I found loves me just like she did when we lived together. It's as though nothing changed. How wonderful to love and be loved.

That is kind of how I felt about the storm. It felt like I was being wrapped in a grey cloud of loving arms. It was calm and peaceful despite the thunder and lightening. I used to be afraid of lightening until I was taught how it worked. My Dad taught me how to count the lightening from the thunder to know how close it is on the screened in porch on the black iron swing at the Avondale house. Maybe that is why I like the storm is because I don't feel alone, rather have the warm loving memory from a time ago.

With limited commercial interuptions...

Spring Break is over and nothing got done that I'd hoped would get done.

Watched "War of the Worlds" at home by myself in creeky farm house...bit scarier that way.

Hoosiers makes me feel like home.

Two job apps out for summertime work.

Zertek is tada for my allergies.

Thank goodness for working out. Didn't know I'd miss until it was gone.

Won a roundtrip ticket to anywhere in the US via Airtran. Thought they were lieing, but they weren't. Cool.

Took alumni survey. How do you tell your school that you got nothing out of your academics but had the best time of your life overall except that slight little problem with low self esteem and incomprehensible demoralization?

It snowed today around two thirty, so much for spring. My dogs are so cold they wouldn't leave my mudroom. They are huddled together on a blanket but don't tell John because he'll say I'm a softee. (Hinkley that means you.)

Sunrise, Sonrise. Good sermon on Sunday.

Easter was noisy. Trumpet, french horn and bad choir in balcony that you could have heard from across the street. Lots of family, lots of food, lots of youngin's.

This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it.

And the winners of the 1963 Sunfun Fest Shag contest are....

I have had a sleepover without any guests in my house. It has been rather strange. My house is messy, I have eaten whatever and whenever I wanted. I have stayed in my pjs and watched movies all day. Last night I stayed up late: midnight! And slept in late: eight am! It totally feels like a sleep over. Except, the sleepovers that I remember, I stayed up until 4 am and then was a brat the next day instead of sleeping in. I remember at Lea Anne's birthday sleepover where we all tried to stay up the latest and this gal who went to bed first woke up around two. She was so afraid that she couldn't go back to sleep, she couldn't go back to sleep. That is when I found out that Lea Anne liked to spin pillows with her feet.

The last sleepover I had was with Megan. She was so excited to come spend the night with me. She was like a little girl all over again. It was a great opportunity to become better friends.

I guess a sleepover with no people means that I got a better opportunity to know myself. My list of movies alone tells me something about me:

Private Benjamin (w/Goldie Hawn and not the movie I thought it would be)
Waitress
Man in the Moon
Serenity
SHAG, the movie

I especially liked SHAG because it reminded me of Lea Anne. She and I actually went to Myrtle Beach my senior year of highschool for spring break. I don't remember a whole lot about it other than I think we had fun.

I really needed a day off. Thank God for Spring Break.

...couple number 12!

I have decided that the fashion industry is totally looped, smashed, stumbling through life with unfounded reasoning in the direction they take. Totalled. Totally.

I went to the store today because John says that my new pair of jeans that are a size smaller than my old jeans are already too big. Okay, so I just spent $29.99 on left over wedding gift card money on these jeans that went out of size so I am not willing to spend that much again. So I say to myself, no sense in practicing impractical behavior; I will try something new. I will go get clothing from goodwill. Even better, I will get clothing from goodwill in PTC where the rents live because that is where the rich people are and good name brands will be there.

Mom and I go to "Well Spring" a gently used clothing store across the street from her house. It is THE nicest thrift store I have ever been in, even better than the one in Savannah where I bought super nice clothes for five bucks. It had good organization, well designed displays and kind sales people. Mom and I found one pair of jeans (*ranglers) in a size smaller than the pair I had on and two pair (Arm*ni & G^P) in the size I am currently in with the thinking that maybe my jeans are overwashed or something. Arm*ni, I couldn't get a leg in and G^P, I got two legs in but couldn't get them buttoned (what's the point in getting the legs in if it won't button?). Both are the size of the pair of jeans I bought at Macys, (Leevi 550). Neither fit. These are the two that have "clout" in the fashion industry. Maybe not the G^P, but definitely Armani. Fashion--eers are stupid. The wranglers, size smaller than Leevis 550, fit like a glove. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Since others are in the business of controversy, I thought I'd give it a try. Of course today would be a slow news day. The AJC had three sections today and the lead story was a commuter car-pool story (not a whole lot controversy on people trying to make the world a better place). Even Cnn had a hard time coming up with news. Luckily, they are resourceful.

They carried a story on a (R) representative who was speaking her mind about "gay lifestyle" and got caught on tape. The weak part of the story is that she is not a US Representative, she is a state representative from Oklahoma. Obviously nothing happening in any of the campaign states so I guess Cnn had to get creative...

The fun controversial part is that she compares gays to terr*ists. It is odd actually to think of gays as terr*ists, pretty big stretch.

The story states: She was invited to a meeting with other (R)'s and vocalized her opinions on the gay lifestyle. What she didn't know was that someone in the room had hidden a digital recorder. She was very outspoken on the topic to the point of calling gays terr*ists. Someone took the hidden recording and turned it into a UTube broadcast. There are people in the UTube broadcast holding up signs saying "I'm listening." One of the local gay & lesbian local organization is calling for her apology. She rebuts that she was vocalizing her beliefs as a Christian, they are not necessarily her legislative beliefs. She also states that it is her first amendment right to freedom of speech. She will not apologize.

There are several big issues with this story: privacy, separation of church and state and freedom of expression. I pick a combo first amendment rights, then maybe separation of church and state:

I take issue with calling anyone a terr*ist who is not a proven terr*ist, as in innocent until proven guilty or on the most wanted list. To me, this is not a freedom of speech (or expression) rather slander. If they write it down, it is libel. It is in the same realm of someone calling me a witch when I am not a witch. It goes directly to character of a person. Slander is name calling. Name calling is abuse. Abuse is illegal. Just like we are not allowed to hit people, we are not allowed to hit them with our words either.

Labeling an entire group of people as one is a generalization. So now, instead of slandering one person, an entire group of people got hit. So this woman, Rep. Sally Kern of the Oklahoma House, hit not one person with abuse, but millions with her statement as a result of the broadcast. (It's apparent to me that she hit one person initially so that they knew she would do it again. They caught her in a trap for opening her trap! Not so sure that ruining a person's career in politics was the best method of stopping the abuse, but that is not my controversy of the day.)

I am not arguing on whether on the gay lifestyle is Christian or not-Christian, but calling gays terr*ists is definitely not Christian. I learned when I was little not to call my little brother stupid--wasn't even baptized yet. So I am pretty sure that if Christ were to walk in right now, he would never say that the gays are terr*ists. My guess is that he wouldn't call anyone names for that matter.

Watching the story again, she says they act like terr*ists, scooping up children when they are two and three. This simile is still slander. It is still name calling and I am not getting yanked off my soapbox by a technicality.

If there is anything I have learned from the West Wing, it is all about what you say. Word choice is key to the message. My guess--strictly a guess--is that her real message is that she believes the gay lifestyle is not in accordance with her religious beliefs, her Christian beliefs. She also detaches them from her legislative duties.

This is the hard part, but I really get it.

She has personal beliefs, that mind you are poorly expressed, that do not affect the way she wants to legislate. I wish this were true more often.

I am a big believer that gay, straight, bi-sexual, tri-sexual, should have the right to be married. (Breathe...Watch the anger, stay focused on the debate not the emotion.) The reason I feel this way is because to me marriage is a spiritual thing not a legal thing. I think either the gov't should get out of the marriage business; or if it is going to be in the marriage business, make sure they are getting the maximum profit off of it. While I am all about this section of gov't being smaller, the CPA part of me says show me the money. I also recognize that it is really up to each individual religion to interpret what is and is not in its parameters. Let the religions moralize/demoralize the members of its body. Let the gov't mind its own business: governing.

This leads me into the complex part (separation of church and state): what happens when our religious selves want to govern? What happens when there is someone like Mrs. Kern who has strong spiritual beliefs who wants to govern. She is totally influenced in her legislative decision making by her religion. What if she were Mu$lim or Jew!sh? What if she were H!nd! or Budd!st? What if she were a witch, m0rm0n or atheist? So how do we take the religion out of the legislator? My only hope is that she will [and like I try to as well (although I limited in knowledge)], lean on the Constitution to help her draw those lines. I think that one can lean, I think it is hard. Someone would have to be extremely well versed in law making, state constitutional law and US Constitutional law. This is hard to find in legislators because we can only elect those who run. Obviously, Mrs. Kern was elected, she vocalized her opinion to other people in her party who get people elected and/or might have been other legislators which means she was influencing others. I know one thing is for sure for me, I don't want Mrs. Kern's religion (whatever it may be) governing me. I feel safe in saying that Mrs. Kern doesn't want my religion governing her either!

So I feel controversial today, how bout you?

When I started the Hydrangea last night, my husband came home in the middle of me painting. "Nice grapes," he said...

Doesn't look like grapes now, does it?

Hopefully, by the end of the weekend I will have a hydrangea on all the cabinets, but I might add yellow rose or two too. Two, too, that's funny.

Honesty can sometimes be not such an easy thing for me. Actually, rigorous honesty is down right painful for me. I would rather people think badly of me than tell the truth...sometimes.

We are an undiscplined lot. Only God will discipline us.

Rather than have God discipline us (because last time he sent me a messenger that made me want to be her), this time I got really honest. I got honest with myself. And then, I got honest with someone else.

What was so painful to get honest about? Going and seeing those women who only know me as a mean, nasty drunk. Calling them on the phone and asking them to come to the reunion when everything I remember about myself would not entice anyone to come to a reunion. I was unkind, illmannered and down right mean to women who had either relationship or no relationship with me. If they came through my path, I was aggrivated at either being drunk, not being drunk or wanting to be drunk and not being able to get that way fast enough and as a result, whoever the poor soul that ran into me, got it in the neck.

I remember one time that someone cut up one of my favorite t-shirts and posted scraps of it on my door during my sophomore year. I still don't know who did it or why. I felt victimized and outcasted. I was in tears and terrified that someone was going to eat me. The reality is that I probably did something that warranted a scare. I probably ate someone else.

This is the type of thing I remember. When I volunteered to help with the reunion I would never predict that they would ask me to call women who may not think well of me. Specifically two women who I owe a direct amends. Specifically someone I ate.

I stole a date. And then I blasted the gal whose date I stole, and I blasted her girlfriend who was there to hold her hand. I remember it pretty clearly. I couldn't imagine calling them and saying "Remember me? Won't you come back to see me again?" No way. The longer I mulled it over, the worse the fear got.

Am I willing to make the direct amends? Yes, I am, just not while I am soliciting for my class. It isn't really the right time.

So how did I get honest? I had to tell the head of the committee the truth. Does she know the details of my crimes, no. I told her how afraid I was of calling the list of women and that I owed amends to at least two of them, which I didn't think would be appropriate for me to call. She being the kind woman she has always been, said no problem and that she would take care of it. When I got her reply, I cried.

How did I ever do those things I did? Why would I steal another girl's date at a formal? What on earth was I thinking? I was a horrible, rotten person. I don't remember being raised to be a horrible, rotten person. How did I get to be a horrible, rotten person? I had no God. The only god I understood was one that would destroy me.

But, these women don't know that I have a God today that is all loving, all knowing and all powerful. They don't know that never in my life would I ever consider stealing anything not to mention a date. I would have done what I saw other women doing like going and dancing with friends and then going home to bed. Normal people...

I am really afraid to go back and meet this group of women. Why are reunions so...whatever. Why is it that people return to see others when they were horrible people? Aren't we supposed to remeniscence about good things? I mean, I don't remember good things...well yes I do. But what if they don't?

It doesn't always feel so great when you get honest.

The cabinets are well on their way to being hydrangea blue...

This is the first set, tomorrow the bottom set and then the hand painting will be added.

Woohoo. I found something I like.

Thoughts:

I have started listening to a local radio station that carries a show called Knee Deep in Blue Grass. I have always liked the sounds of a quartet and a banjo. There is something familiar about the music that I can't put my finger on.

I actually used MySpace today to look at some people. I have so many friends that are slightly out of touch. I miss them and wonder about them, but I am not worried about them. It is a new thing. I have old friends too who I couldn't do without in my life right now. Then there are the new folk, who I always guess what category they will fall into: those who stay or those who go. There is no way to know until it happens.

After having a completely detached day, I had every emotion one can have in three hours. It was impressive the very next day. Michelle calls it dealing and feeling. She says that at some point I will do both, and then it gets wierd.

Tonight is my night. I am not going out under any circumstances. I am going to movie watch, clean my house and make some dinner. I have been out the past two nights and I feel abit overwhelmed. Maybe I will work on my cabinets a bit too.

School got easier this week for no apparent reasons outside of no exams.

I am feeling nostalgic today....

You've got your ball,
You've got your chain,
Tied to me tight tie to me up again,
Whose got their claws in you my friend,
Into your heart, heart beat again
Sweet like candy to my soul,
Sweet you rock,
Sweet you roll,
Lost for you, I'm so lost for you
You come crash into me, yeah....baby

This weekend was perfectly lovely. No thinking, no doing, no nothing. Just like I like it after a mind meld of a week. It was me and my hubby doin nothin. At one point I went outside to the cow park to see what exactly that man of mine might be up to and I found him driving his truck around aimlessly among the cows. When I asked him what on earth he was doin, he said goofin off. Nothin. He was doin nothin.

My head was cold mush by the time it was all said and done. Today at school I was completely in detach mode. I was doing what it is you do when you go to school, but I wasn't really there. It was odd. I had people come and sit with me in between classes who I know and are in class with me, but they don't sit with me. But today, they sat with me. And called me darlin. Gotta love those military men. I didn't have the heart to tell them I had step children older than them. Hell, I've got step children older than me. But what the hay, when is the last time a young man thought me young enough to be so general with me? See, I am totally disconnected. In any other day other than today, I would have made him feel about the size of a pea.

Thank goodness that my morning meditation was on acceptance of self. The concept that we are right where we are supposed to be. So today my disconnectedness is all part of the grand plan. I am me. After long periods of emotionally taxing days sequentially, I disconnect. That is not such a bad thing. I think it is a coping mechanizm. It makes me feel like I am swimming.

Oh no,no,no...see the wave come crash into me...crash into me.

I am so done with midterms. I am in unavailable for thought mode. I have read every blog known to man, planned out how many movies I can squeeze into tomorrow, bought a starbucks for the first time in two weeks and am totally not into work, working out or anything relative to homework.

My friend Vicki is doing a girly movie weekend and while that sounds awesome, my hubby will never go for that one. Saroy is doing some kind of race across Texas, which I don't know that I am too into that. Carter is doing something, but there is no way to know because he won't blog. Mom and Dad? Hmm...I am guessing there is a trip to the d-o-g p-a-r-k planned, thankfully, I live in the middle of a dog park or rather, cow park, so no trip for me. What to do...

I think this weekend will be about not thinking for me. Maybe I will nod in and out of Anne of Green Gables/Avonlea while doing laundry, petting the best dogs in the world and loving on my hubby. I am sure he will be on a motocycle or hanging out with friends. I so want to be on spring break right now, but am so not. Although, maybe I can get JSK to switch out the mattresses for better sleeping enjoyment before I totally crash. Not thinking, that sounds sooo good.

I am actually going to do something on Sunday...become a Daughter of the King. I am actually already a DOK, but I will be admitted into the service officially and recieve my cross which is our habit. I am what I always wanted to be: a Baptist Nun. Strange, but true. My friend Katherine Oliver and I came up with whole scenario about that. But that's for a thinking blog not a non-thinking blog. I will also teach SS on sunday. That doesn't require thought though. Thank goodness...

MIDTERMS MIDTERMS MIDTERMS MIDTERMS....

Do you know the difference between marketing positioning and product positioning? What about five ratios to help describe a corporation? Perhaps it would be easier for you to discuss the inverse relationship of assets on the operating section of a cash flow statement? Oh, I know, I'll make it easier, just give me the x-intercepts of f(x)=x2+2x+1.

I had three midterms last week and three midterms this week and NO spring break next week...don't know who screwed that one up, but they did. I did Algebra, Microsoft Access, and Microsoft Excel last week. (Yeah those three were not all that imposing.) Then this week, I had marketing on Tuesday, accounting on Wednesday and Finance on Thursday. Now granted, these three are intro courses, but they were so painful!!!! I made an A on the mktg. I think I made an A on the Accting and today...I don't know. It was a standard blue book exam with three essay and three word problems with a bonus. I really want an A on it. I made a B on the first exam, so an A would be nice. But I don't know how I did because I think my brain is leaking out of my ear. It makes it complicated to think, remember, complete sentences.

I am so looking forward to not studying tonight even though I have a quiz in Algebra tomorrow (taking the standard quadratic equation and completing the square in order to get the standard shifted form to analyze the parabola). I am going to make dinner for my husband, go hang out with good friends who do not give me grades and wallow in good healthy exercise for my body which I have ignored in order to study this week.

Whew, I made it. This moment finally passed.

Notes:

*Why is my priest the best priest? Because she used "Groundhog Day" in her sermon.

*Must see: http://www.indianajones.com/site/index.html

*Got a new pair of jeans at the MACY'S president's day sale, dropped a whole size! Woohoo! So John bought me a new workout outfit too! (And beautiful gold earrings)

*Megan has the flu--like went to a doctor and tested positive for the flu, flu. And exposed me to it last night before she went to the doctor. Erg...

*Survived another Valentine's day at Gertie Mae's flower shop in Clarkesville. By the time I'd gotten there for my shift, the floor looked like the swedish chef of flowers had been there. There were flowers on the floor, in buckets, in vases, in tissue, in boxes for sale and not for sale. There were flowers for sale, delivery and pickup. There were customers and workers and designers and drivers and whew...it takes a village to raise a child, well then it takes a city to run a flower shop on Valentines Day. Although, there is no place better to be on a day of love than in the midst of beautiful flowers: roses, astrolameria, wax flower, greenery, gerber daisies, sunflowers, more roses, mmm...can't remember what the yellow flower is called, want to call it saledago, but know that is an herb. The day was awesome. Flowers, flowers, everywhere.

*Saw Jumper with Debbie on Friday night. Pretty good. Went in not knowing what it was about, came out not minding I spent 6.50+popcorn on it.

*Am trying to be in bed by ten every night...wonder if this will ever happen.

My church: Happy Lent

Today our associate pastor kicked off the season of Lent. I don't usually pay much attention when he preaches because I feel like he looks down on us as a congregation sometimes in his messages. I like Dena better. But today, he made some good points. Of course the Gospel reading for today was about the temptation of Christ. Initially he pointed out the things we give up for Lent and that Sundays don't count in Lent (which who knew that?). Then he reached into the scripture for something more. I am all about more.

He mentioned that the hebrew translation for the word Satan is advisary. I didn't know that. It makes more sense. I don't like the concept of Satan: a fallen angel with a resentment collecting souls for hell. It is not inspiring. Mostly that fallen angel concept seems as though all I need is a good proton phaser in a video game to get rid of him. But an advisary, I have those. I have met those people, places and things. I understand the advisary concept. Someone who challenges me.

Don went on to point out that the temptation of Christ was not for what He gave up in the forty days in the desert, rather the temptation was to be who He was not. This advisary was challenging Christ's inner most self and tempting Him to renounce those beliefs. Now that is a concept of hell that I can get into. I know all about that kinda temptation. I know all about that kinda hell. I have been there. And I am Not going back.

When I went off to college, my temptation was waiting for me. It had already let me know that it was there. It was a cunning, patient thing. Some people I knew from church and school had given into it already. They had stories of pleasure and glory. This made the temptation even more alluring. My parents raised me to live without fear, rather in faith. They raised me in the faith that Christ of virgin birth, was resurrected from death as a sacrifice for the sin that separated me as a human from God, our Father. They raised me in a house without temptations. I'll never forget that opportunity to give in to my temptation finally. It was all consuming. It was all knowing. It asked me to renouce my beliefs and I said yes.

As a result it destroyed me. I met a fate of pitiful, incomprehensible demoralization. And yet, I am not that person today. At a point of great pain, I surrendered. I confessed my sins, made my restitutions with people. And finally, I made my restitutions with God. Today, like every day, I ask for God's forgiveness. I try to do His will to the best of my ability. I don't usually know what that is. I do know today that His will for me is not to drink. His will for me is to be His beautiful worthy child. Instead of renoucing my beliefs today, I carry his message to the mountains, the desserts and where-ever else He may send me.

In my Sunday School class today we studied the second chapter of Matthew. I asked my class why King Herod killed all those children? Because he had no faith they learned. They recognized that Josef and Mary had faith. They saw the magi followed God's will. They started to write a paragraph about their own fear and faith. They all had a story they wanted to tell me (all at one time) about their fear and faith. One has scoliosis and might have an operation. One's older brother cut his toe off with a lawn mower. They are amazing kids. When they get it, they really get it. When I was trying to think of my story of fear and faith, all I could think was that it would take more than a paragraph.

Today I have the faith to face the temptations in my life. I don't have to renouce my beliefs today. I know who I am. I know that I am a Christian. I know that I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't meddle in other people's affairs. I eat healthy. I get it. I like it when my pastor gives more because I get more.

I am a mastermind.

I am an artist.

I am mad with housework!

I didn't get started on these cabinets until after lunch. I ended up being on the phone with my long lost girlfriend, Meg. Actually she is not long or lost, but we like talking on the phone (for two hours at a time), so people might think this to be true. She is a cabinet painting guru. As in she does it for a living. She is all about the colors and messy-ness. She was so excited I was painting my cabinets.

As you can see, these cabinets were built about fifty years or so ago. They are super-size cabinets. One of my cabinets is the size of two that are built today. Needless to say, the icky yellow color is painful. This is the color I have been eating over since I moved into the farm.

This ----->>>>>>>>photo is half way through the process. I had to lay a base coat of high gloss white in order to get the effect I was going for.

TADA!

It's a miracle. I have painted cabinets. You can call me Martha Stewart if you want to!

I still don't know if I like them yet. I stopped at three just to make sure this is the look I want. I still have bit of touch up work to do, but I wasn't willing to do it if I didn't like it. I think I will sleep on it. I was thinking that maybe they would be lighter than they are. But I may have mixed the glaze too heavy. I think adding some white or glaze will tone down the shock of the color. I don't know which though, so I will consult the experts.

I am taking on yet another household project here at the old farm. I have straightened and cleaned the sun room. I laid out a rug that John's mom gave us over six months ago. It has cat hair on it and will have to be repeatedly vaccuumed before it can really be used. I am not sure how to go about cleaning it other than vacuuming it because it is some kind of fancy thing, although it couldn't be that fancy after all, she did hand it down. It is a lovely blue and it covers most of the room which is good insulation as the only thing separating the ground from the room is some boards and a pitiful amount of carpet with no pad or foundation or anything other than cold air that you can feel through the pitiful carpet. So the rug will put another layer between us and the outside world. I am not sure what all will go out there other than my books for now. I would like for it to be a nice sitting room, but as of yet it has no power and no heat. So that will make the project long.

I am also working on the opposite side of the house on the cabinets. They were built in the fifties. If I could describe the color it would be nicotine yellow. Bleh. I have been given some good suggestions on what to do with them. I am going to paint some boards first to see what I like best before just painting and having to redo my work. I am looking at an olive green with a glaze. I am looking at a "mountain air" blue. I am looking at a high white gloss with a hydrangea blue glaze. I don't know what I like best yet. I still have to clean and scratch/sand them. The sanding is to give the new paint something to stick to and to eliminate residue the cleaning did not get up. You'd think you could just sand them, but ah, not the case according to experts. I call them experts because they have done this for a living.

Hopefully once the cabinets are done I can move onto the walls. That is a much more in-depth project than I am willing to do while I am in school. Maybe that will be a good spring break project. The kids at school are already talking about trips to Destin, going home to work for a week or going skiing in whereever. Must be nice to have money to travel. I will just stay home and keep working on me. That way I can get to a place where I can travel too one day.

Turns out that you don't have to give something up for Lent. Sometimes you can just give something for Lent (thank you Sherry for the clarification). So this Lent season I am not giving up anything, I am going to give myself a home. I have been working slowly but surely on it for a while. The back room is now officially a clean, well organized closet. The kitchen is a place where we can move and eat and live. It is cleaned and organized. It is more oriented for just me and John and if we like a set of guests. John redid the bathroom. It is so much nicer than when I first moved in. It has matching fixtures, a stainglass window and has been repainted. He also added a pretty medicine cabinet mirror instead of the old, rusted mirror where the frame of it was screwed into the wall. I will be glad when we have the sunroom at our disposal too. Then we will have three rooms available to us instead of two, a closet and a bathroom. The mudroom is the last option I have to adjust. It will take several men to fix. We have a six foot freezer in there with NOTHING IN IT. It is just plugged in, sucking up electricity. I would like to ditch it and put in an antique bakers table that we have. I would not bake with it, but I would store laundry stuff in it and it would give me a place to fold clothes. It would free up some space to put in a pretty antique bench so as to sit and take your muddy shoes off too. It is also one of those rooms that is like our computer room when I was growing up. It has a purpose for the use of a computer, but if you are ever looking to just stick something somewhere, it is a great room for that too. I would rather the mudroom live up to its name. Ahh....life at the farm.

This I give to myself: building a home I can call ours instead of his. More than anything, building a home instead of just some place to lay down. I guess if I am going to be here, in this shack in the valley of the mountains, in the middle of the pasture, I should make it a place that would be honoring and cherishing of not just myself but a place for God.

Who would ever know that in the game of MASH, I would end up with the greatest man ever, four cars, a motorcycle, a shack, potential children later on, and a job as a student? Ah, such is life.

Have you ever been in the middle of a spiritual experience, one of an education variety as opposed to a sudden revelation?

That is where I am right now. I can't seem to balance. It is not as though there is much to balance in the first place, but trying to get food in the mix makes me feel cloudy, fuzzy, like I can't stand up straight.

My brother asked me if I was going to give up anything for Lent. I laughed out loud. Give up for LENT?! You mean giving up alcohol wasn't enough? How about smoking? Meddling in other people's affairs? OH! I know I'll give up sugar and white flour, our bodies weren't meant to process that anyway. Oh, right, I have already given all that up! So what is it that you want me to give to God to enrich my experience with Him, or bring me closer to Him for only 40 days as opposed to say, the rest of my life?

Who was is that started this trend of forty days and forty nights of abstinence? Oh yeah. That Guy. I wonder if that Guy gave up alcohol, smoking, meddling, sugar and white flour just to get closer to God our Father. Some say He gave up sex, although I have never seen scripture about His celibacy. Some say that there is a human lineage, although I haven't seen any scripture that says that either. So we know know one thing is for sure, we don't have any idea if He gave up sex or not. 40 days and 40 nights in the desert, what was He thinking? Was He lost? It wasn't until he was worn out that He was tested. Faith fights temptation. And then He starts preaching. So why do we give up something for Lent?

You know, I find that food or drink or smoke is not really what blocks me from a relationship with God. That is just the stuph I hide away in, not the stuph that blocks me from His Spirit. The stuph that hinders me in a real walk with Him are things like: judgement of others, irrational jealousy, not taking care of me, dishonesty with myself and others, fear of loss, believing that I am unworthy. These things crush me. For some reason I do not naturally respond with "Hey Rae, you are a Beautiful Child of God." It just doesn't come up in conversation with me, myself or I. Inevitably, when my head says, "Wait! Don't leave me!" I am separated from God--instantaneously. Thunderstruck, as AC/DC would say.

I don't know that 40 days would do it for me. For only 40 days, I would be close to God? Is that all I get? I want to be close to God everyday. So shouldn't I give up something everyday to be closer to God? If I truly want to have a daily walk, shouldn't I do things daily?

I learn so much about my faith when I am growing spiritually.

Juliet says hey Romeo, you nearly gave me a heartattack.

• I can see the big dipper and Orion from the front yard.
• I have a marketing test on Tuesday that I am and am not nervous about taking.
• Megan is going to church and reading the book of Matthew.
• Mikey, the pup, is teaching Baby, the mama, that it is okay to be a loving thing.
• John has the sickness.
• I am still doing no white flour and no sugar. I am also up to three-five times a week cardio at 45 min, and two strength trainings: legs & hips, and shoulders, back, bi's and tri's. Next week will add in abs.
• My kids remembered to bring their Bibles to Sunday School.
• Am writing an article on DV for a local paper.

You and me babe, how bout it?

Success, or at least it feels like success. I am starting my fourth week (the 26th will be one month) of the diet. No sugar, no white flour. Do you know how hard that is? Do you know? And now Mom says that I will have to give up caffeine soon. Well preferably now, but I am a little overwhelmed with things I am giving up right now. Maybe later. It's not killing me yet. Typically I give things up when they are killing me. Sugar is not killing me either now that I think about it, but it sure was doing a number on my self esteem.

Today I was able to do 45 mins of cardio and "strength" training. The strength training is a three times a week thing focusing on different muscle groups each time. Today was legs. I did lunges with three pound weights twice (I was supposed to do it three reps, but I was afraid I was going to fall over by the end of the second one so I moved on to the next exercise). I did calf raises with three pound weights. I did hip adductions and abductions at 55 lbs. I did the leg press at four plates (the numbers were worn off so I don't know the weight). And finally I stretched. All of this took about an hour and fifteen minutes. Not bad. I came out feeling buzzy. If you ever had a buzz from a beer, you know what I am talking about. If you haven't...yeah, I don't know: sucks to be you? The nice thing about the buzzy was that it was from doing something good for me instead of something bad for me.

I also was able to eat correctly all day. I have also had the ketosis process start in which means that my body is processing the fat to make sugar instead of using outside sugars and storing excess sugars aka fat cells. It does weird things to my body like random muscle cramps in the legs or making my urine smell funny. The nice thing is that it means that I am getting smaller on a healthy rate. I haven't gotten back on the scales this week because I was too overwhelmed by the scale process last week. I have decided that I will do the footwork for healthy living process if God will handle the worrying about the weight. It leaves the mental consternation in the hub of prayer and eliminates daily mental activity that was cumbersome.

I have always found that exercising was a chore. My head told me it was hard so I wouldn't do it for long. The reality is for me to be at a healthy weight for my height and being the age that I am, there is no way for me not to exercise to maintain a healthy lifestyle. I wish there was and outside of heroin or the diet coke/cigarette method, there seems to be no other choice. I found a positive affirmation in my Shape magazine that has helped tremendously for my thinking: Working out is a way of honoring my body and my health. Since honoring the self is a way to honor God, it means something to me to honor my body and my health. I liked it and it changed my perspective on working out. Honoring God in all my affairs is a hard practice for life. I am slowly but surely being able to apply the God discipline in my life one affair at a time.

I am totally vegged out. I am ready to go back to school. I have to admit. I have been a slacker at the beginning of this school term. I really minded that I didn't get my books, but I really didn't mind that I didn't get my books if that makes any sense. I wasn't done with my winter break. I didn't know that of course until the wonderful three day weekend.

My hubby was at camp this weekend so I got the farm all to myself. Friday I went to school and then Grace's game which was awesome. They beat their rival team and Gracie score eight points. This was an important eight points as they only won by seven! It was a good game. I was sitting in the screaming parent section. I felt really bad for the refs. Although, I did see some of the calls that were obvious that they missed, but I didn't feel obligated to yell at them. After the game I had some Donnelly family time by hanging out at their house talkin' politics (Craig is GOP and Sherry is DNC...fun fun!) and drinkin coffee.

Then it was home to the MOVIE MARATHON. Yeah, my movie marathons make Carter's marathons look like duck soup. I also worked on my wedding scrapbook. I am spicing it up a bit to look more like a SCRAPbook as opposed to some pictures with pretty paper. It amazes me how much work an advertiser or magazine editor has to do in order to get page layout to work: placing opposing pages on similar color themes, having an overall flow to the book as a whole. My little book has taken a total new shape now that I have put some elbow grease into it. Although, I have run out of blue, light blue and yellow construction paper. Thusly the scrapping has come to a halt. I was busy all day Saturday and Sunday with the movies and the book. I didn't have church on Sunday due to fear of ice, which ended up just remnants of snow on the ground. It was excuse enough for me to skip church and watch more movies though. I know, I am a sinner and going to.... heaven anyway!

John was back from camp today which made me superduper happy. And now that my mind is totally numb from movies and fun, I am ready to go back to school. Luckily, I did organize for school. That was a good thing. I also did a chapter in my mktg class that seems easy, but something tells me the exams are going to be painful. Whew, I sure am grateful for MLK, Jr. today, how bout you? Thank you MLK for the day off for which I observed in peace and quiet of my own home.

I love Friday Night Lights. My brother thinks it is a stupid movie because the team loses, but the emotion in it still astounds me.

The movie is about integrity and intensity. Not many people can do both. Many times the intensity overwhelms the integrity. This is about 17 year olds being the best of the best. I remember being seventeen. I couldn't spell integrity. Okay, that's a lie. But I sure didn't have the ability to emotionally process integrity. I had no ability to be the best of the best. I never experienced athletics on the level that the men in this movie experienced football. These young men are rock stars for one football season. I love this movie because it clearly conveys the emotional effect of Texas football on five young men and their ability to be perfect.

It also touches on the end of that connectivity, that bond that happens between people during the emotions and after the intensity is gone. I can remember that at the end of a school year or the end of a musical. It feels like wearing a shirt that has been overstretched. It is too big and hangs in odd places. But it is comfortable to not be so tightly stretched out. I love that part of the movie: when Winchell smiles. They will always have that season no matter what else happens in thier lives; they will always be perfect.

notables:

• The routine I have in place for the semester is setting in well. I go to school, go to work study, go to work out, eat, study and play...a little. Mostly it is tiresome to my body on this schedule. My diet is successful. I am eating five small meals a day with a high protein content, no sugar, no white flour. I startled my brother with a fact that Michelle lost twelve pounds in the first week of this exact diet when she did it at my age. He was upset to think that I would lose more than a pound a week. I would be upset if I lost a pound a week. Turns out in my first weigh in, I lost 2 1/2 pounds. That was a diet for one week and one day of exercise. Next weigh in I will have two weeks of diet and one week and one day of exercise. Maybe the extra workout will give my body some umph to lose three pounds in a week. I was slightly bitter about the 2.5 pounds. I really wanted something tremendous like 5 or 10. People always tell me they lose a lot in the beginning. So much for that theory. It is nice to have a routine so there is less chance of screwing up. The army men have noticed my almond eating at eleven am or ten thirty am. They immediately asked about it. Funny how the work out fans can spot other worker outers. I also carry around a purple Nalgene bottle that my wonderful hubby got me. I think the combination were a dead give away for "athlete" (in the making). I do find that I feel like all my nerve endings are hanging out...I can feel everything. This is totally an abstinence thing. It happened when I came off of alcohol, nicotine and now...sugar. I don't remember the alcohol being such a bad withdrawl, but the nicotine: kill me now it was bad. I don't ever want to do that again. I'd love to smoke again, just not go through the withdrawls. Although, I doubt I ever will smoke again because the benefits are outweighing the addiction. Sugar however, I will eat icecream again. Not giving that up.

• I have my first quiz on Friday and still no book. It is a little upsetting to my 'A' student heart, but I recognize that it is in college algebra and even without the book I am ahead of the game in the class. She handed out example problems in class on Wednesday and I got them all right. Mmm...Plus, she drops our lowest quiz grade. Still, I am not used to not being way ahead of the class. Hopefully they will come in by today and tomorrow as per AMAZON.

• Fashion on campus has set in on this rainy Northeast Georgia day. All the fatigues have a poncho. All the girly-girls have "pretty" galoshes. They come in pink or black with polka dots, a red tartan, brown lined with black buckles. It is amazing how hip rubber shoes have become. The girls tuck their jeans into the boot to show off the boot. Weird. It is all the rage. If I could find one in none pink, perhaps a purple of some sort or navy blue, I'd probably wear them too. As it is, I will stick to my way cool hiking boots John got me before Christmas that were intended for me to walk on snow in WV without killing myself, but have come in handy for rainy Georgia days. Since we don't have many rainy days, I jump at the chance to wear them. I am less likely to go hiking in them as people are killing young women these days on the AT, so rain is a good excuse.

• Life at the farm is sad. We had a hefer give birth for the first time which makes her officially a cow. Unfortunately it was a "hard labor" and the baby got stuck in the canal. The cow made it, but the calf didn't. It was a beautiful thing too. But it caught pneumonia because the lungs never dried out. It was sad, but, I have come to find, part of the business of growing cows. The good thing is that the mama lived and is healthy. It means that more pretty calfs can be made and can make money.

• I have never been as excited to drive my dirty little Saturn as I was last night (I am conserving water and not washing my car. God took care of that for me today by letting it POUR down this morn.). I have been without vehicle due to some insurance and tag issues going on and last night I was able to drive MY CAR. The car that gets 37 miles to the gallon when buzzing around town and 40 on the highway. Yes, I get 37 miles to the gallon without being a hybrid. The bowing at the feet of the Saturn SL1 may begin. My eyes were opened to the gas crisis while driving John's vehicles. They get 27 miles to the gallon if you are lucky. I was feeling the pocket pinch that everyone has been screaming about at the top of their lungs in every form of media. I will not go through that again. I will make sure that my little gas stretching vehicle works no matter what until there is an alternative. Even the new Saturns don't get that kind of gas mileage. I will stick to my zip-zip car.

Boy I am fiesty today.

Back to it. I am back at school today. I don't have any books yet though which is strange. It is the first time I have purchased books on Amazon, so we shall see when they get here. My accounting class has a peaceful, easy feeling professor. Then I have a computer class where to my surprise, my professor was in a wheelchair. I have never had a disable prof before, but she was nice and the class seemed pretty straight forward. I get to build a website for class which seems way cool. Next is math. Yes, I have a college course called Math. It is college algebra according to the book I bought, but the class is called math. My D for Done in Calc back a hundred years ago didn't qualify me for Statistics, so I have to start from the beginning. I think it extended my time here by a semester, but it doesn't matter. I can do algebra in my sleep. Then I am off to workstudy and off to workout! Workstudy, workout..haha..

I haven't seen any of my friends yet, but I didn't expect to see them until tomorrow. I know of two classes that I take with two different friends. I was surprised in my accounting class that the gal that sat next to me was an evil girl to me last semester, but this semester asked for my phone number off the bat so we could study. Her question was proposed to ensure she was studying with a good student:"You made an A in the last course right?" I knew she made an A. I saw her grades on all her tests! Yes! I MADE AN A IN ACCOUNTING. Thank God for that one. I really wanted an A in that class. Hopefully she will be nicer than last semester. I think she is probably a nice person, she was just mean to me on a bad day. I am mean to people sometimes too.

Phrase of the day: "So how was your break?"

There are few things in life that evoke emotion outside of one's own experience. That is why we like actors so much. Those folks who can convey circumstances and situations so powerfully that we can feel it ourselves without actually having the experience ourselves. I saw a movie last night that moved me. It was overpowering in its love, agony, tension and loss. It was a story of getting honest, even if it is a death's door. I know about that: getting honest.

I ended up last night in a place of old haunts. I use the word haunts because it is a part of my life that used to scare me, my family and what few friends I had. I was in a constant state of paralyzing fear. I couldn't do anything. All I could do was drink. The drink would allow me to function and not remember. I wouldn't have to feel.

I know that people do experience a spiritual awakening in the middle of the place of their fear. That is not my experience. I was supplanted in the north Georgia mountains. I got a God shot. As a result, I have not been down the old paths since that time. They were shocking to my senses last night.

I made a decision to change last night. I did something I have never done before on that side of town. I went shopping at Target. That seems very simplistic, I know. I wasn't able to shop when I lived there before. I was only able to drink and fear. There wasn't any real shopping back then. You know, the kind of shopping where you go in looking for something not know what that may be and will know it when you see it? I ended up not buying anything but it doesn't make any difference. Now I have a new memory. I have a good memory, not one of fear or petulance or degredation of self. I have one of a peace and ease. One of time spent not drinking.

My story is a garden variety story as far as spiritual journeys are concerned. Last night is a part of my journey: making new memories; daily, small changes. Everyone counts, every bit of a new life bearing principals like integrity, awareness of God, willingness, honesty.

And I'm free in You...
Got no worries on my mind,
I know what to do...
That's to treat you right,
Love you kind,
Thank you ever on my mind...

So I am free to do whatever I want (except eat sugar or white flour). I watched so many movies today, I thought I would be crazy. I feel like I have had too many cigarettes without the coughing, mucus, bad taste in my mouth or smell on my clothes. Turns out this is not from the movies, rather from the lack of sugar in my system. Apparently there is a detox period (imagine that! just like everything else). It is a flightly, fuzzing sensation. So I used the energy for the good and went to the gym. I walked for about thirty minutes maybe more at an incline at a "brisk" pace. I broke a sweat. I felt good.

Ho hum, I hear the drum. That would be the school drum beating. I bought my school books on line today. They are a bit late in the purchase side of things, but you can never tell with online. I bought Dad's Christmas gift from CA and it said that it wouldn't get there until after Christmas, but it got there on the nineteenth. Who knows? Hopefully they will be here before next Friday. As by then the professors will have expectations. They cost me half what I bought them in the bookstore for which means that I overpaid last semester. Oh well, won't make that mistake again. Will order sooner next time though.

Have some cool pictures of the Opossum Drop but haven't figured out how to load them on the computer yet. New camera rocks! I take it with me everywhere. I need a hand protector case though, it is getting a little knocked around in the old purse. I am sure it will stay home more once I go to school. (four days left...)

I am still free for the next couple of days. Hurray...more movies...

Happy New Year!

Today is a day of rest, joy and challenge.

John and I went to Opossum Drop last night to ring in the New Year. It is in Clay's Corner, NC. It is just over the line past Hiwassee. There were gospel songs sung, prayers led by Dolly Parton and a video of patriotism with inspiring words from our current Preznit and past Preznits. Oh yeah, and they dropped a rodent at midnight.

We didn't get home until one thirty and I didn't get to sleep until about two-fifteen. So today was a sleepy day. I didn't get up until ten thirty and didn' get going until eleven fifteen. I ate my non-sugar, no white flour breakfast at lunch time. So funny. One of my girlfriends was shocked and laughing at me. But, hey, I am on break!

I am excited about our plans today to go and eat sourcraut and potatoes with our friends who are originally from Pennsylvania. They say that is their traditional New Year feast. Strangely, both are on my can eat list. They also don't make sweet tea because they are Yankees, so I don't have to be tempted. I look forward to the fellowship and food.

My brother has a tendency to make "resolutions" for the New Year. I had someone ask me if I made them and my answer was that my brother did. I know I want to lose about 35lbs. Maybe 40 if I can. I know that I want to maintain my 3.8 GPA (or better). I know that I want to go somewhere I haven't been... I am ready to grow through prayer instead of through pain. That's gotta happen at some point right? I am kinda tired of the being in pain to motivate me change. I would much rather just pray about things and change. No pain necessary. I know that I want to attain some physical/emotional peace. The chaos that I yearned for, I am no longer interested. I am ready to have one of those lives where people say so are you still doing...and for me to answer yes. So are these resolutions? I don't know. I know that they are things that I want.