Sometimes there is just no way to follow up a good weekend. It was just good.

My weekend started with notice from my microecon prof that class was cancelled on Monday. Whoohoo! Good day. Then on Friday evening, I had a warming dinner with friends from here and out of town. There was bbq and bananapudding. I made three cheese mac n' cheese. (I left out the milk but it didn't seem to matter.) I was so glad to be able to hang out with Meg & Sebatian and so many people I hadn't seen in a long time.

Saturday I slept in until ten am. I slept twelve hours! Can you imagine. This week I was off on my sleeping. I was only getting about six or seven hours of sleep a night, so John was not surprised I slept so long, but I was!

It was a college football day. Since the games didn't start until twelve, I watched Rudy. It was awesome. Then I chatted on the phone with Meg for about an hour, while watching NC and UNC-whoa is all I have to say about that game. Then came the house cleaning. Most people would have settled into their homes by now. Especially since they have been in it for about a year. I don't really know why I just up and decided to nest, but I did. Now my kitchen looks like a kitchen instead of some place that looks like a compartment of a storage box. The rest of my house still looks like a storage box, but my kitchen looks like home. Next weekend will be another room I am sure. Whew. I could live in that kitchen.

Then John and I were invited to a "couples" baby shower. Apparently it is the hip new thing. So we had plans to go to ATL, but instead we got to actually meet the baby, it was two weeks early! A new baby girl. She was beautiful. She was born in the same hospital as my Dad (yeah, didn't know that until Carter told me). It was a gorgeous hospital. Guess Dad was living it up when he was born. Then we called Carter and asked him to stop eating (munching on the phone) and go out to eat with us. Being the kind, cool brother that he is, he did. He took us to the trendy restaurant around the corner and we had good times.

Sunday was good in that my kids learned about fishers of men. We made a fishing net and fish and hung them from the ceiling. Yep, you try that with 5th and 6th graders. Its not easy. Then we had breakfast with the boys. Then back to the polishing of the kitchen. Did I mention how pretty it is now? It is nice.

There is no way to follow a good weekend...except for by having a Monday that I only have one class to go to. That is a good way to follow a good weekend. I love being back in school.

I have some concerns about the the State Speaker of the House's proposed tax reform. The more I learn in my two economic classes the more concerns I have about his policy shift for the state. I recognize that a new tax policy is imminently needed as it seems that cuts continue for the state which tells me they either are going broke or might become broke because of all the tax cuts.


So how do you politically recoup the losses (tax cuts) that have made you popular as a politician, but not raise taxes (lose your job aka political suicide for the GOP of GA)? You call it something different: you call it TAX REFORM.


It is interesting watching the bashing back and forth between the speaker and the governor. I don't know that I have seen such blatant intra-party squabbling since Mark Taylor ate Cathy Cox in the democratic gubernatorial candidacy. The speaker is stealing some thunder from the Governor who is trying to get into national politics, while laying some ground work for his own progression as a politician. This makes Sonny very unhappy. He likes his thunder.

What the speaker is proposing is a sales tax as the main source of revenue for the state. He wants to eliminate the property tax because it is "too high." In listening to a snip it of him on 11 alive, he wants to almost eliminate property tax (thus, who would still have to pay? My guess is the middle class.). Here are my concerns:

• I have learned that sales tax is a regressive tax. A regressive tax is one that increases the less income you make. So the more money you make, the less tax you pay. The less money you make, the more tax you pay. This means that the lower echelon gets lower and the higher echelon gets higher and the middle gets stuck with the bill.

• I understand that there is a misperception that taking the property tax money and giving it back to those who own property would give them money to spend thus being collected in sales tax. This takes into two assumptions. One, that the items the wealthy buy with the money is not more land. Two that they will buy things that are sales taxed in Georgia. What happens if they take the two grand from the non-prop tax and reinvest it in more land? What happens if they buy stuff in N.C.? Then the money that is redistributed will not come back to Georgia as revenue, but create a gaping whole in the revenue collection process. Also, what happens if they save it? This is something I have not heard the Speaker address yet: who makes up the difference in revenue if it is not collected by the state?

• Now, dealing with the flip side of the problem. What if they are a home owner and every year claim property taxes as a write off for their federal income taxes...now that there is no property tax, there is no tax write off. So much for not paying the property tax. Now instead of the state getting that money, the Feds get the money. That doesn't seem quite right. How will we know that money gets redistributed to Georgia? We don't. Instead, we just pay more taxes. Doesn't it seem like if property owners were going to pay taxes that the State should be the one getting the cash? I mean come on. There is no way for the property owners to reinvest when they just change the name on the check.

• Finally, there is a notion that the sales tax would broaden the base of income by taxing the passer "throughs". The tourists will make up for the difference. I recognize that we are definitely becoming a nation of leisure. We are wealthier than most nations and more of our citizens have the ability to travel. As an added bonus we have states instead of little countries so there is no reason to have extra papers to travel and eliminating a hassle for the common vacationer. Well, cool. Where would you like to travel to? Not Georgia, they tax you for going there. It is too expensive to be considered a stopping point. Let's go to New Hampshire where there is no sales tax at all. Then we can consume all we'd like. Get my drift?

Why do we want to run off a major industry in Georgia? Why tax that industry? Why not tax manufacturing or utilities? Why tax tourism? Why tax the poor? Why tax those who have property? What is the point in taxing everyone for everything and not getting a whole lot in return?

Although, it does shine the spotlight on the speaker. It does boost the political squabbling in the state congress. It does make those of us who watch, watch with more fervor. These are good things for someone who wants to be looked at as the next GOP gubernatorial candidate. It is also a great way to hide the fact that you want to raise taxes as a solution to state going broke.

I guess the main thing taking micro and macro economics has taught me this semester is that the Speaker needs to enroll in the courses before he goes off creating economic policies. If he hasn't had the courses, then he will become educated. If he has had the courses, it will be a good brush up and maybe knock some sense into him. All in all, my economics courses have taught me, not many people understand economics.

I meet you for coffee,
We get together periodically,
I got a bad case I can't shake off of me,
People wonderin how, wonderin how it oughta be...

Sometimes I run smack into myself. When this happens there is a great emotional distress. Who am I? How did I get here? What am I doing with my life? What am I contributing to life? They are all very disturbing questions that typically reveal some self awareness that ready or not here I come. It takes days to process and even the simple tasks take effort to focus, perform and follow through. Emotionally I turn into one of those train wrecks that you hear about on the news where some poor soul got stuck on the tracks because the car died. Just aweful. We secretly say to ourselves that we are glad that we don't know the poor soul. I have been that poor soul over the weekend. Train wreck victim. A casuality of my own mind. I live on a foundation of rigorous honesty. I have principals in my life like integrity, willingness, perseverance and an awareness of God. When honesty fails, when I become dishonest, oddly, my foundation cracks. All the other principals are contingent upon honesty and without that, I go a little bonkers. I look and act like a train wreck. That train whistle is pulled along with the brakes by the engineer as hard as they can be pulled, with no hope. There is nothing to do but run over that gal trying desperately in fear to get the car to start. It effects every relationship. It effects every commitment. It exhausts me. It makes my muscles sore. I start to daydream, but not really dream, just not see what's right in front of me. I become not present in my own life. Train wreck.

When I find that place of honesty, all is made right. In one single instant, I feel, I see, I hear, I return and am snapped back into the here and now. I am present. It is weird. It is a process. I have to get honest with one person, then another person and finally with myself. POW, I am back. Standing on my own two feet. I know where I am, who I am, where I am going and what I am contributing to life. I can pray again. I can take on the big, bad college grade. I can be where I say I am going to be and be who I tell you I am. My foundation is solid like a rock.

Thank goodness it only lasted from Friday to Monday. I am sure that it would have been aweful through out the week when I am supposed to be paying attention in class.

I didn't used to know how to be honest. I didn't know what was going on with me. I was in a state of disillusionment for years. I was drowned in liquor. It perpetuated the state of numbness. Like a 24 hours that repeated its self over and over. The same train wreck everyday. I couldn't get honest. I was constitutionally incapable of a manner of living that demanded rigorous honesty. Thank goodness, I don't have to live that way anymore. Thank goodness I have the support, the love, the steps to take to keep me on track. Thank goodness for Grace.

I have had four tests in seven days, Halloween & b'day with Iris, anniversary with the hubby and faced a cheating scandal that threatened my academic standing. Right now I feel like my brain is oozing out my ears and all I want to do is sleep. I finally caught up on my blog reading today and realized I was two weeks behind in my own blogging. I still have a paper due today and then my thinking can cease completely. If you want to know anything about organizational development and behavior, LIFO & FIFO inventory, the Coase theorum or how the increase/decrease of the dollar effect aggregate demand, get it now, because by tomorrow it will be gone out of my head.

John and I ate year old wedding cake for our anniversary. It was great fun. Then we hiked Brasstown Bald, which if you have any type of heart condition or breathing condition I highly recommend you take the shuttle instead of hiking it. The trail is only six tenths of a mile, but it is on an eight percent grade. If you are a stair master queen/king then this would be no problem, but if you are like me-twenty pounds overweight and out of shape, it nearly killed me. But I was going at a pretty serious pace according to my husband. The way down is cake. It makes you appreciate the trek up.

Iris won best costume in Clarkesville for 3-5 year olds. She was a witch. She won a $50 savings bond. I thought that was cool. There was a whole troop of us who escorted her around the square and taught her how to say trick or treat. She would get so excited to say it because she had about five or more people who would applaud her saying it. To boot she got a piece of candy. Meg was a witch too. I was over tested to dress, although next year the troop that went around the square with Iris decided to dress as a group: ie The munsters, or the Adams Family. Something like that.

My holiday season will start next weekend. Every weekend after that I will be booked for something. There is a wedding, a baby shower, a turkey day, and two Christmas parties already on the docket. Somewhere in there I have to go see my mother-in-law. Plus, I am supposed to shop for family gifts, have a bonfire at the farm and have finals.

I think this weekend is going to be about sleeping, maybe some movie going too, but mostly about sleeping. Hopefully, my brain will be restored and capable of making it to the end of the year.

Pray unceasingly. Pray with your thoughts, words, feelings and wills. This was Dena's message this morning. She always amazes me in her ability to hit the nail on the head of what I need. I need more prayer. I have tried to pray unceasingly all day today. I have never consciously tried it before and turns out, it is really hard. I get distracted from prayer easily. If I am in conversation, I can't seem to pray and talk at the same time. I also find it hard to return to prayer once I have had a conversation because I am either a) thinking about the conversation and its elements or b) thinking about self...what I want to do, what I want to say, what I have going on at school, etc. I used to think about other people: what are they doing or thinking, but I have come to find that is a waste of time altogether. So Dena says less thinking, more praying. I have heard that the object of spirituality is to take out self and replace it with God. I am sure God knows that is an impossibility on a whole, because he made us non-gods, rather God-like, but not exact replicas. So if I stop thinking about self and instead pray (think about God)...She says that God wants us to talk to Him. She says that God wants a relationship with us. But doesn't that seem a bit much to only have a relationship with God and no one else? Or maybe, that is not what she is saying. That seems like a Rae twisted bit. I think she may have been saying that when we pray unceasingly our actions will follow and our relationships will too. Kind of like the ping pong balls and the sand. But I have tried today. It is hard. I am distracted right now! I guess I just have to keep trying. It will probably get easier. It is a lot easier to pray when there is an urgency about it. It is harder to pray when you are like, Hey God, life is good. Thanks....No urgency. I must be missing something. I guess I will pray about it until I find out what it is.

My husband is always telling me he is the smartest man in the world...then my Dad walks in the room. My Dad never ceases to amaze me.

I am back in school, dutifully studying and going to class. I have been very proud to say that I have not skipped a single class. My hardest class is macroeconomics. The reason I say this is that his test was so hard that he is giving us an opportunity to make points on the first exam by watching a film from PBS. It is called commanding heights. It is about the global economy and the philisophies of government planned economy contrasting a free market. It is taking us through the turn of the century to present. It is a long movie. I think it will bring my C up to an A. That would be good. I am feverishly taking notes and mostly listening to what is being said as opposed to watching because there is so much information. One of the only pieces of music came on just after WWII in the movie. They were talking about the downfall of the conservative political party and Winston Churchill and the rising of the Labor Party with a resounding new effort to build a new Jerusalem. What was the piece that they played? Jerusalem. My Dad's girls' song. I don't know how my Dad did it, but he amazed me again at his intelligence.

I sang along.

My professor thinks I am nuts, not to mention the girl sitting next to me.

Something weird happened at school. People are missing. I thought it was just a Friday thing, like everyone cut class on Friday to go do whatever it is they had to do, but they were missing again today. Someone said that there is a bad cold going around...weird. I am grateful for the good parking spaces though.

Our house is officially in the fall mood whether the weather is or not. We went by the storage unit and picked up fall/winter items while storing not so fall and winter items. We also went on a great pumpkin hunt. John took me to Bert's pumpkin patch. There were two parking lots full of cars and then some. There was one great pumpkin patch that had all kinds of pumpkins. There were GREAT BIG ONES, itty bitty ones, green ones, white ones and even a set called cinderella pumpkins. We got a normal size orange pumpkin, a white one, a green one and a cinderella one. They also had all the accoutraments too. There were corn stalks and wild dried maize. So we got some of the maize, but decided to cut down our own stalks from our neighbors farm (per their permission of course!). We used our goodies from Bert's along with our own farm elements to create a beautiful harvest display at the end of our driveway. Fall is here!, it announces, at this house! Come and see! When you get to the door, the maize hangs with a beautiful bow. Fall is here! Just wait and see!

I am hoping to encourage the weather. It is getting right cool in the evenings where a light jacket is required. Just that thrill, that chill, that air that fall is coming.

I am ready or not!

My brother likes to hear about farm life. Two words: chicken litter.

Do you know what chicken litter smells like? It smells like money.

That is something that we say as we pass by a farm that has just emptied its chicken house or a farm that has just spread litter over the pasture. Chicken litter will grow grass on cement it is so powerful. Its potentcy in not just in its smell, but also in its power to grow things. It is a by-product of having a chicken farm that grows more money for the farmer who sells it and better pasture for the farmer that buys it thus making money for both farmers. So it smells like money.

That being said, anyone who has been to my humble abode knows that I live in the center of a pasture that grows cows. Yes, that is right my friends, right now, my house smells like money. Unfortunately the smell does not leave until the first rain...which we've had oh so much of lately.

My dogs found a whole chicken that was dead that fell out of the litter truck among the litter. They have been chowing down on the innards of it since yesterday and thumb their nose at the dry dog food I feed them. Gross. There is nothing like living in the smell. I forget after a while about the smell and then I sniff it and start looking for what is causing the stench and realize, oh! Money.

Ah, farm life. Can't beat it when it smells so good.

I had the whole weekend to myself. My husband was off to his Mama's and I was to study all weekend. You know what I did? Nothing. Not one single thing. Well, I did go work with Gertie Mae's at a fancy wedding. I succefully tied back the tie backs, placed the table placements, and garnished the railings. The railings were the hard part because I didn't have any experience in garnishing with garland. However, I was successful. Sherry did all the really hard stuff like designing everything. Then I came home to do...you guessed it, nothing. I watched almost a whole season of West Wing. In my search for the next season among my dvds, I realized that I have two fifth seasons. If that is not wierd, I don't know what is. I don't know how I got two fifth seasons, nor do I know why I would want them. I must not have been paying attention when I bought them. I really need six & seven to complete my collection, but not this past weekend, because I was doing nothing.

I don't usually comment on public events. I am a quiet active political person. I read, assess, form my own opinions and then vote. Although, if this was the trend, then no one would stand up and shout at the rain. I don't like to rant. I find it aggrevates my anger, like scratching an itch, it only gets worse. I take a point of view of discerning instead of judging. This keeps me out of trouble on so many levels: I don't alienate friends or family members; I don't propel the angry Rae image; and I have lots of people who enjoy my company. My close friends know my personal love for all things political give me a bit of room when I just need to talk about politics.


I haven't really consulted anyone before writing about the next little bit, but I haven't had that safe space to spell out my opinion on this particular event. So here goes,...


I have always been a bit mouthy whenever I hear racial slurs. I will cut people down for using phrases or words or even having an ethnocentric attitude. I don't stand for it inter-racially or intra-racially. If I hear a black man/woman using inappropriate language with another black man or woman, I will slice him/her to ribbons for self degredation. I just won't stand for it, under any circumstances. This being said, I have been almost killed for being mouthy (about racism or any number of other things, which is why I am less vocal today). However, I have also been respected for my prescence of mind, courage and heart.


I am not sure where I get this strength. The only thing I can think that I rely on is my experience in high school. Most kids in my neighborhood went to a private school. Everyone in my neighborhood was white. The public school that serviced my neighborhood was about 85% or more black. There were some Asian, not many and the rest white. I remember being one of three white females who "graduated" the seventh grade. My best friend in the eighth grade was suspended for fighting with a girl who called me a "white bitch" in homeroom. I remember Joseph Lowery coming to speak to my school. It was a very big deal and we were all in the gym for about an hour listening to him preach. The other thing I remember about that event was being in fear for my life as I walked out of the gym because I was one of the few white students. I remember being grateful that my spanish class that I was returning to was the first door on second hall past the gym exit on the left. I was afraid. The people in the school were pumped up after he spoke, with anger and a dangerous encouragement. I remember being called goldie locks for my blonde hair. I remember shootings at the mall next to the highschool. I remember having to walk through the mud in my pumps and dress that I wore for National Honor Society because there was a huge fight on third hall that left blood on the floor and lockers. I remember one of the coaches walking to the disciplinary principal's office with two young black men in headlocks so they wouldn't fight. I remember people going to jail everyday for violence in my school. And I knew why they were fighting. There was an underlying racial tension in my school that you couldn't cut with a knife. It was both inter and intra racially motivated. It was dangerous in my school.


I do not put up with racial slurs because cutting words are a result of cutting thoughts. Cutting thoughts and words lead to slicing actions. Racial violence is unacceptable on any level in thought, word or deed. I will not stand for it.


These young men, these Jena 6, that stood up for their civil rights through beating a classmate and leaving him for dead...I will not stand for it. There is nothing justified in their actions. They were violent. There is nothing about violence that deters racism. Martin Luther King, Jr. knew that. It is about changing thoughts. Violence does not change thoughts. The student who had to ask his pricipal for "permission" to sit under a "white" tree should have been the first indication to the principal that something was wrong in his school. PERMISSION? Are you kidding me? Why didn't the principal ask the student back, why do you feel the need to ask for permission? What is it that we as a faculty and staff, as educators need to address that would eliminate this lack of freedom for the student? Where were the teachers? Why was their no authority for the children? Why would racism ever escalate to a place of violence in today's society? THEY ARE CHILDREN. WHAT ARE YOU TEACHING THEM?


Do I think that the young men who beat the one young man should go to jail? for murder? Yes they should go to jail, and for attempted murder if there is proof of motive and intent suffienct to support the charge. If the young man who was beaten died, they should be prosecuted for murder. They committed a crime. I don't care why they committed the crime. They broke the law. The worst thing about taking the "law into your own hands" is that you are no longer protected by those laws. You are an outlaw. You are a criminal.


I don't know really what motivated my parents to send me to public school vs. private school. What I do know is that it was the best cultural experience I could have. I learned what it meant to experience racism. I know what its like to go to a school where tension is a part of the daily function of the school. I know what its like to say, yes I graduate from that highschool and have someone ask me back, "and you survived?". I know what it is like to be the minority. I know what it is like to live in tolerance and diversity. I know what it is like...

There has never been a reason for me to hit, kick, demonstrate in any violent way my intolerance for racial slurs, racial hatred, racial oppression. So why is there a reason for these six to get away with attempted murder for their intolerance of racial oppression? The answer is that they shouldn't. And if they do, their leaders should be ashamed of themselves.

There is a strange phenomena happening at this school. I haven't experienced it in the real world which may be a statement of maturity or ignorance. The women (as I only have exposure to women) are talking on their cell phone while going to the bathroom. I have been on the phone in mid-conversation while at home and snuck in a bathroom break, typically I am talking to someone who is family, like my Mom or Meg, but in a public bathroom? These gals just keep right on talking while they walk into a stall. No, I am not talking about: "hey, can I call you right back in a minute" conversations. I am talking about on the phone when they come in, while they wait in line for a stall, while they pee, wipe and whatever else, while they wash their hands and leave the bathroom. Never stop talking. It is the most amazing thing. What on earth are they thinking? What on earth is the person on the other end thinking? These women make their peeing public and their conversation public. It is so obscene. Who uses the bathroom in public without being arrested?

Strange women at this school.

SO...I am looking for a violent movie that is not passive violence but not grotesque violence yet provokes discussion. Any suggestions?

I tried to go with A Street Car named Desire, but it is too subtle as a result of desensitization. Then I made a pendulum swing to American History X, but I might traumatize the public. Any suggestions?

It is for a grant that will gain money for Crime Victims Awareness Week. Yes, this is a real thing and I have most of the grant proposal worked out except the movie. I need a middle of the road violent movie that has some of the road to recovery in it. Any suggestions?

It needs to be something the public would want to see, which means documentaries and super old movies (like black & white) are out. Something more recent with a real message of crime victimization. Any suggestions?

3 A's down, two to go. I am almost through a series of "first tests" and mid-terms. It just depends on the prof as to what they call it. Some of the tests I have not made ligitimate A's on, but curves are great. I made an 87.5 (high B) and with the curve, I made a 104.5. Yeah, isn't that one weird? The highest grade in the class was a 92, so I figured on 8 points, but not 16.5. Crazy. I had another test where I made an 80 (barely a B) but the curve was twelve points! He had to throw out three questions on that one and then to boot he curved. Crazy. The third test, I haven't actually gotten back yet, but when you know the answers, you know the answers. There is only one real rule in Accounting: BALANCE. Not only did I balance, I put all the numbers in the right spots. That is the only way to balance. He is a funny prof, he calls me Dr. G. which makes me laugh because for the first time in my life I am being called my Dad's name instead of my Mom's. Crazy? Yeah, Crazy.

I got invited to a Toga party! Isn't that just the funniest thing ever? I was so tickled. I told the gal thank you, but I am a little old. She said no one was too old for a toga party. Maybe that is what I will do for John's 50th b'day, throw a toga party. I told her that I was going to a 50th b'day party on Sat night, but thanks. She snarled up her face and looked at me like I was a duck and said, how OLD are you?

Today is a great day. It is cool outside (thus inside my home). My husband is home. We are at our home together. It seems like we haven't done this in a while. He has something to do or I have something to do or we are not here at all but visiting someone. It has been a while. I like long mornings in bed with coffee and reading and a cool breeze.

Has anyone seen my week? I had an extra week lying around here, but I am not sure where it went. I could have sworn it involved a test, a quiz, a paper, a presentation, working, traveling to WV & back again. If you see it would you let me know? I could really use some perspective on how I did in my grades. I would think some thank you notes would be in order for the visit as well too. Let me know who to send those too btw. You know, maybe I should turn in a time sheet too-or a paycheck? I don't know what happened to my week. It was just here. Or there. Mom always tells me to look under my bed. Maybe I can find it there, next to my soccer cleats from tenth grade.

I wrote an essay. Well, I wrote a speech, I think. I am not sure, I have never written a speech. But the essay had repetitive key clauses that makes it sound like someone campaigning rather than someone entering a contest. The contest was for a prize of $125. The poly-sci dept issued it at school. One of the profs gave out extra credit to his students so they would enter it, which means that I have some competition. I didn't think I would have any, but as it is, a few who go for the extra credit, one of which I know, is taking the LSAT, threaten my chances for winning. Whew, smart gal. I don't know that I am that smart, but maybe I can win the contest. And, the money would be nice.

The question for the essay is: With the uncertainty of the upcoming 2008 Presidential election, is it time for: a woman president, a minority presdient, a mormon president?

I think the idea behind the question was to support one of the three and write about it. At the time I started brainstorming for the paper, I was watching the West Wing. This is something I do often. It helps me to write. They speak with the forethought and vocabulary which I like to write. I wish I could speak that way, but I am just now learning how to think before I speak and have only had a couple years practice at it. I still screw that up as a result. I had finished the second season and went to put in the third season. At the beginning of the third season, they perform a 9-11 tribute. It stirs me to watch that particular episode. It is called Isaac & Ishmael. (I might be spelling the names wrong, but you get it.) It directly answers the 9-11 attacks. It amazes me to see this episode. Strangly, as I watched the small play and it shifted my perception. Instead of seeing the question as choosing one candidate and supporting it, I saw it as a yes or no question. I answered yes.

I don't have many opportunities to write my opinions nor do I write well, but I am including the essay because I worked hard on it and I don't know that anyone will read it (outside of the professor judging the contest) and want some feedback. Know now, this is a long blog.

The essay(maybe speech):

Speaking with one voice, people of varied backgrounds filed for their candidacy for election to the Presidential office in 2008. The time for a president of another race, gender, creed is now. The Forefathers of our country created an idea, a foundation for this country, called pluralism. What started as an impetus to freely believe and worship as they chose, now employs the freedom to elect the office of the President of the United States as the people choose. Let the President believe as she wants to believe. Let the President be who he is and not pretend to be someone we want him to be. Let the President not just exercise the freedoms the forefathers created, but represent them. Let the President be elected based on the populace and their representatives. The idea that our country can have a society that embodies diversity on all levels of government stems from the building blocks upon which the writers of the constitutions constructed this country.

Pluralism challenges the people to utilize their free will to know that something new encourages the office of the President to grow stronger on a domestic and global scale. Changing the norm, while it admittedly presents a challenge, has promises of new diplomacy, peace and power. No one likes change. Change is difficult.

Change has been so difficult for the American people - they had to be told twice that people of color had implicit rights as citizens of this country. The first time cultivated a war great enough that more Americans died fighting in it than in any other war. The Civil War divided our nation, fighting over racial liberation. A second revolution through peaceful protests occurred over 100 years later.

Change is so difficult for Americans that it took 72 years to concede in 1920 that the constitution was clearly written to include both genders, that women have equal rights to citizenship as men. As insurance and clarification the nineteenth amendment was ratified. A second revolution occurred hand in hand with the revolution of race. Women began breaking barriers in the work force. The growing pains of this country lasted more than a century.

Change is so difficult for Americans that the founders of this country in 1773 rose against their authorities to fight for the rights to worship God as they chose. Looking for a new life, a new perspective, knowing that the end result would mean revolution and independence, to choose as they wanted, they went to war. This war, the American Revolution, which lasted for eight years, led to freedom of religion. As reinforcement that the efforts of these men, who fought so diligently and victoriously, would not be in vain, they founded a guiding principle of separation of church and state. This principle allows us to freely practice religion as stated in the First Amendment in the Bill of Rights.

Shifting perception can be a magnanimous event when it comes to convincing 300 million people. Luckily, the shift has begun. The voice of the people can be heard with the listing of the candidates. The people are ready. The people are ready to handle the change commanded by Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and Benjamin Franklin.

These candidates embrace the possibilities available to them through the rebellion of the monarchy in 1776. Standing from their podiums, they shout at the top of their lungs that which you would counter at the top of yours. They are qualified, they are knowledgeable, and they are the essence of the populace voice. The candidates present opinions and solutions to issues that affect the heart and soul of this nation. With tenor, rhythm and pitch they stand heads tall convincing one person at a time the egregiousness of the necessity to vote. Listen to their voice and find one that is agreeable and vote.

In these days of the uncertainty of the coming national election, weighted issues persuade the candidates to voice their answer to the failures of the current administration. The “war on terror” falls short of the promised success in its initial campaign. These failures have generated its greatest weapon, propelling the people to act for change in their leadership. Armed with the same intentions of the Americans from over 200 years ago, the candidates thrive on their diversity. The failures of the current administration promote the pluralistic draw of contenders for the next chance at Commander in Chief. Side by side they stand to be elected, which in turn infuriates the Islamic extremists. Unknowingly, the Bush administration may accomplish exactly what it set out to do: strengthen and protect the country. To win this war, the time for a president of a different gender, race or creed is now.

Change is imminent. Change is difficult. Change is now.

There is a strange thing happening at school. The students are studying. Now, I know this may not seem odd to so many of you who have had a true college experience, but I haven't. The first test season is now in play (mine is not for another week and a half, but others are not as lucky). It lasts from now until the first week of October. There are students everywhere in the hallways, common areas, libraries and they are studying. Some of them look haggard from staying up late last night. Others are skipping a non-tested class in order to study for a testing class. They are in groups and individually wrapped around English, Finance, History, Economics. Some have even coaxed a tutor into helping them study.

The A students though are not studying like this. They have all been studying all along. They have been reading the chapters, reviewing notes everyday. They know the material already. That nervous studying that is going on with the non-A students makes the A students roll their eyes as though to say, where have y'all been? We've been in study mode all along. A students get to class early. They carry the appropriate book for the class. They don't skip classes for any reason. Most importantly, they are not frightened when they enter a testing class. They know the material. They test themselves everyday on the material. They can discuss the material critically in a discussion using correct definitions, key concepts and core principles. Who cares about a test, they are educated.

You know what I have been thinking for the past several hours as I walk through the hallways and common areas? Where have y'all been.

Acconting is bending my mind. Did you know that assets are a debit? They are a positive debit. Did you know that expenses are a debit--see that one makes sense, but wait-they are a positive debit. Liabilities on the other hand are a positive credit. So is owner's equity (capital). Accounting is trying to shift my perception. Ignore everything you know about credits and debits, my accounting teacher says. He is not a Dr.. He is a CPA. He is a gospel singing, West Virginian country lovin', right wing conservative republican. He wears his Sunday best every class. He could be on one of those Christian Network shows, except he would be teaching accounting.

Assets Dr+ Cr-
Liabilities Cr+ Dr-
O/E Cr+ Dr-
Revenue Cr+ Dr-
Expenses Dr+ Cr-

A=L+O/E

Now I have learned new things since I have come to this college, but none as difficult as this. Although, wanting to be an accountant means that this idea has to be second nature to me. If I look like a pretzel at the end of this sememster it will be because of beginning accounting.

I got the Snickers! Finally. I have a professor who teaches an 8 am Macro Econ course who is a very bland orator. His voice is pretty close to monotone and he loses volume at the end of his sentences which makes him sound as though he is mumbling. He is really deliberating, but it comes across as mumbling. He does wierd things like bangs on the desks arbitrarily to wake the dead--rather wake the sleeping in the class. If I were a traditional college student with no drive or clarity in direction for my life, the class would be hard for me to stay awake in too. As it is, I am always awake at 8 am on any day and I want an A. So I listen, take notes, drink lots of coffee. Another impetus to listen is the snickers bar. I don't know that I will eat the thing. It was just that I hadn't gotten one yet. He tosses snickers bars out to the people in the class who answer his questions correctly. I have been so busy taking notes that I have not found a successful strategy to answer a question and take notes. Today I found it: talk and take notes at the same time, but watch out for the throw. He asked a question and my head coordinated my mouth to open in an almost involuntary way and answer the question. Although, I was still jotting things down as he began the toss of the Snickers Bar. It was a quick glance that I realized I was being rewarded. Unfortunately, he only gives one bar per person. I was able to execute my new found tactic several other times, alas, no extras. There is a maximum. Now there is a quiz on the material that I have to take tonight. I hope that I can get another A. My last quiz was an A. He drops the worst three quizzes and doubles the highest two. I am not sure how this balances out, but I am sure he knows how it works, which is more important. I was begining to believe I would never get a Snickers even though I know the answers to all the questions. Whew, finally.

There' s nothing like being Mrs. Kahle. When I say that name out loud, I always think of John's Mama. But officially, as of yesterday and the Social Security Administration of the United States, I am Mrs. Kahle. My driver's liscence says so too. Strangly, I changed my name on my liscence but my renewal date is the same. They didn't harge me for it though.

My first duties as wife to a tenant farmer was to tend to cows. Yes, cows. Calfs actually. We had a dead calf on the farm yesterday morning. They sometime contract a disease called black leg. They get it from the dirt. Cows, as it turns out, don't just eat grass. Sometimes they eat dirt on purpose. It has minerals in it that they need to stay healthy. However, for the calfs, it is life threatening when not vacinated. Thus, dead calf. The cows, when they lose a calf, holler. They don't holler when the calf dies. So it is hard to know when one is dead until they are gross. So this morning, the other calfs recieved shots for black leg. We are not sure that is what the other calf died of, but it is better safe than sorry. Eight calfs, eight shots. Papa Bud and John rounded up the herd and seperated out the calves. I rounded up the vaccine and syringes. I also handled the dogs otherwise they like to play with the calfs. Finally the calfs are caroused into the chute. I hand the loaded syringes to John, who shot the calf and painted it. You paint the calf so you don't shoot it twice.

Now I know it seems like I didn't do much. I sure didn't break a sweat or wade through cow manure. My husband was DISGUSTING when he finally got done and let the calfs out. He had sweat, dirt, manure all over him. Bleck. So he trapsed in and immediately took a shower. I sat down to blog and then, I could smell it. I smelled like cow. I smelled like icky, sticky gross cow. It was in my hair, a thin layer on my skin. whew. It was aweful. So I was next in the shower. I would have to say, I am officially Mrs. Kahle via the United States and the farm.

I have A's in all my classes as of this week. What does that mean? It means that I have only one class that has not given me a grade at all and won't except for an exam, so all the other classes the work I have turned in is an A. In English (two quizzes and team minutes plus two extra credit visits to the writing lab), I have an A. In Econ I (one quiz and participation), I have an A. In Management (three journals, class participation, one paper, three team meetings), I have an A. In Accounting (two homeworks), I have an A. Econ II, no assignments yet. I only have exams in that class. No extra credit either. Yeah, when he said that as he was giving out the syllabus, half the class dropped out. Wimps. I have all A's. Beat that with a stick. Hopefully it will stay that way. Time to study for my next quizz in English. She gives a quizz every class. So I go to the writing lab every class too. That way I am a point ahead. I want to do what Grace does and make 105 in the class. hahahahhaa.....105 in a college course that's funny.

I am supposed to teach fifth and sixth graders about the Armor of God tomorrow. I wish I could teach them about the amour of God. Alas, it is not to be. The passage is as follows:

Finally. to be strong in the Lord and in the strength fo his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but it is against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly places. Therefore, take on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, stand firm. Stand therefore and fasten the belt of truth around your waist and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arows of the evil one. Take the helment of salvation, and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God. Pray in the Spirit in all times in every prayer and supplication. Pray also for me so that when I speak, a message may be given to me to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it boldly.

Ephesians 6:10-20

Yeah--spiritual warfare and sixth graders. Somehow that baffles me. They will be shaped by the ideas that I am teaching them and you want me to talk about the devil to sixth graders. How do I know that the devil hasn't already repented and asked God's forgiveness? How do I explain that there is a fight going on that we can not hear or see that is going on to steal our souls when we are dead. Both sides want the soul. Both sides don't get to keep it. Which will you choose? Yeah, I didn't like it when they taught me about it in ninth grade at Gatlinburg, I am not really sure these kids will like it at sixth grade. Especially since they are Episcopalians and this is really Baptist material: wear your armor of be taken by the devil. Yipe. It sounds even scarier out loud. In the good fashion of being a West Wing watcher, I am going to spin it.

I think rather than giving them the whole passage, I am only going to give them the armor of God part. All the devil's fight, I am going to spinout. I think we can talk about how to use the armor in our world (ie we wear the breastplate of righteousness: do the next right thing; belt of truth: we don't lie; etc). I think they can grasp the good versus evil part. We talked about that a little last year in Narnia and all of them have read Harry Potter so that's an easy analogy. Then we can talk about how we use the spiritual tools in the world so as to represent Christian values. That sounds a bit more like it. If I had had someone say hey, we tell the truth, we make ourselves ready for the day and what the world will throw at us by taking God with us through out our days, I might have not been so offended or freaked out as a youngster. They are 11. At eleven I was worried about whether or not my brother was going to get the remote on Saturday mornings when we watched cartoons. When I was eleven I was excited about being chosen as a patrol. When I was eleven, I thought my strings teacher was stupid. When I was eleven there was a lunar eclipse that we got to go out and see during our library period and all the teachers were afraid that we would look at the sun and burn out our eyes. When I was eleven I was sad that this was the last weekend the pool would be open and it meant that School was really back in session. When I was eleven, I wasn't gearing up to fight the devil. The Devil? I mean come on...that is a really big deal. I mean God is a hard enough concept to grasp, but His arch enemy? And He wants me to be ready to fight against something playing at God's level when I am eleven? I just want to run the Labor Day race with my Dad, my brother and Uncle Carter and his girls.

I hope I can teach this lesson tomorrow. It overwhelms me.

It's happening. It's all happening.

I am getting a callous on my finger from so much writing. I write my book notes. I write my class notes. I write my flash cards. I write the minutes for team meetings. I used to get knots in my hands from using a mouse or typing, but the thing about college is that while everything is different, nothing is different. The kids have laptops, cell phones in class, ipods, coach hand bags...can you imagine giving a $500 bag to an eighteen year old? I don't even feel responsible enough and I am much more than eighteen. But no one uses the lap tops in class. They all use pens and notebooks. I figured it would be like Elle at Harvard. Nope, pens, paper, notebooks and text messaging under the desk. The new way to pass notes to the friend--who happens to be across campus.

GT plays at 3:30 on Saturday. In the spirit of nothing changing, I am inviting friends over to watch the game and am going to grill out. No beer though. Beer will be the thing that changes. NotreDame. There was a cool go-get-em article about Tech offense today. It made me more excited about having satellite.

I have my first day off from school on Monday: Labor Day. Whew. That means that I can get way ahead. That will be different. I will actually remember the semester. That will be WAY different.

Don't make any major changes in the first year, but change your whole life. Yep, I have done this before.

I am sick. I have been in denial about my sickness now for about four days. Today I finally fessed up and went to Wally World to buy some sickness fighting medicine. I kept trying to believe that I was allergic, but yesterday really aweful things started to kick in like muscle exhaustion, headache and that ickiness, you know the one that comes with a cold. Now my brother will read this and think he is sick too, but for me, I have to be ssssssssiiiiiiicccckk before I am actually sick. There is a theory that what we demonstrate we are. I put a lot of faith in this theory. So thusly, I am never sick because I demonstrate health. But lately, that has been the farthest thing from my mind. I have been studying and eating healthy and studying. I forgot to stay healthy. It might be because of stress as they say: stress weakens the immune system: thusly, I am sick. I have been stressed. It is hard to eat two and a half cups of vegetables a day when I have been a kid who refuses to eat vegetables. It is hard to be a student who is sober who has been drunk all my academic career. It is hard to practice grown up behaviors when I have only been a grown up for a few years. I sometimes wish I had more experience at it, but I am doing my best with what I have: thus, I am sick. Luckily, the sick fighting medicine is powerful stuff and I am able to function very well on them. I am still very tired, but hopefully my cold will only last for seven to ten days like they say, which means I have three to six days left.

Ugh...I thought Carter was supposed to be the one who gets sick. Ugh... I am sick.

Ainsley Hayes is still my favorite character next to Leo on the West Wing. Mmm...well Josh, or maybe Donna. No, Ainsley Hayes. She was only on for a little while and was totally irreplaceable. She is smart and savvy with debate. She is firm in her convictions and unapologetically quirky. She is educated, elegant and eloquent. And to boot, she is southern. Her ability to endear herself despite her late introduction to the ensemble was done so convincingly that she is immediately commented on when she is not in an episode. I want to be just like her when I grow up. Long blonde hair, educated, autonomous, respected by her peers and grateful of her blessings. Mee tooo.....

I was able to convey myself clearly & concisely in class today without sounding arrogant or abusive. That is not something that I do well, but considering that I haven't spoken to anyone on campus until today, I had the ability to organize my thought process and speak with thinking as opposed to the other option, which I tend towards. Thank goodness someone finally spoke to me. I was begining to believe I had lost my touch. But this young man who was awkward and thin, but had a very obvious awareness of himself, asked me if this is where accounting was and struck up a conversation with me. Turns out he is in one of my econ classes too. Then out of nowhere a young girl joined the conversation. She like me so much, she came into the class and sat right next to me. I was so glad she did, I offered her a stick of gum. Then because this young guy and girl were talking to me another guy started talking to me too...It was like a full fledge social circle. I was so grateful! I was begining to think no one would ever talk to me. Thank you God. I needed an affirmation. TO BOOT, this guy in my english class came in and said he'd been following me around for the past two days. I was surprised. I sit at the front of the class so I don't ever see anyone behind me. He is all of my classes except one. HA. Turns out he is a really cool old person like me. He is 29 and loves a woman in Korea which is why he is so late getting his degree. Isn't that cool? I got to talk to people today. I hope that happens tomorrow too.

I am so tired from being excited about school. Not that I am tired of school. I am not tired of being excited. The excitement is wearing me out. I am physically tired. Yeah, so early to bed for me.

It feels like highschool. Or maybe that is the only thing I have to relate to because that was the last time there were boys in class with me. It is strange to see them in the classroom. It has been so long. Although, the classes are packed with people. That is strange too. At ASC the "big" courses were 20 people. Both of my econ courses have 40-45 people. The army is something strange too. There is an unfamiliarity with fatigues that is terrifying. Then there is the turnover from one class to the other that reminds me of the bells ringing at Avondale High. They would ring and everyone would shift. The same is true here but there are no bells. The same cliques exist: black, hippies, slackers (which sometimes blends into the hippies), military, greek, drama/musicians (they are so easy to spot), the geeks, the beauty queens, the jocks. There is one guy who has walked around all day with goofy/hip shorts on and a golf club: gee wonder what sport he plays! It is so like highschool. And in good fashion, on the first day of school, we have done almost nothing.

I am taking two econ courses that one of the profs owned up that they are almost the exact same course. The prof are the only people that have introduced themselves to me all day. I thought maybe I was supposed to intoduce myself, so I joined a conversation behind me before the second class started and was politely rebuffed. They all have their friends already and I'm so much older than everyone else. The guys all hold the doors open all the time and I say thank you (something else I am not used to, outside of my husband opening doors) and they say "yes ma'am." If my professors call me ma'am, I'll just die. I have a feeling this will be a lonely trek. Maybe not.

I am taking two econ courses that one of the profs admitted that both courses were almost exactly the same. The first prof (an obvious NGA prof)was jovial and prepared for it being the first day. He didn't talk about anything and assumed that no one had read the book. The other one is a uga professor and teaches so abstractly, that I was the only one who took notes. He talked about the entire first chapter, but I guess I was the only one who had read it already and could pick up on the concepts he was tossing around the room. There were a lot of people who were totally in the dark. Did I mention that it was like highschool? Except the grading is drastic. The text is simplistic. The exams are multiple choice...I hope I can remember how to take one of those. They were outlawed at ASC: all blue books. There are quizzes and extra credit in the NGA prof and no extra anything in the UGA prof's class. UGA doesn't even care if you come to class. Uga also doesn't care if you pass or not. NGA prof actually wanted to know your name. Thank goodness the UGA prof is in the middle of the day b/c otherwise, I'd fall asleep.

Then there's the army. There is nothing about them that is normal. Every young cadet is in the sand motif fatigues. When I go to get a bit of something from the student center, they are yelling on the drill field. They are polite. They are concise. They are respectful. They do not hug girls like the commuter boys do. They might sit with a girl, but no touching. I keep waiting to see weapons. But there are none. There are just hats and badges. They salute each other in passing which just about made me stumble as I was gawking while walking.

Different life I am living today than I was living when I on Monday. Different life.

I am a fully registered, book bought student. AND I still have some cash left over. Who would guess? I have been studying for about an hour now and did you know that economics is the science of scarcity and how the individual and society deals with that scarcity? Yeah, I am not even through the first chapter. I feel like I should get a head start seeing as I have two, not one, but two econ courses back to back tomorrow.

Registration was crazy. There were no lines, everything was done online. Advisement was everywhere in the computer lab. There were only about 30 of us who didn't pre-register for Business. Registration is broken down by departments now. I was expecting to run to a professor here there and yonder to get things signed off * then go register at an open hall somewhere with the registrar's office. But nope. It was all in a computer lab: registration & professors all together. I had one professor recommended me one way and another one say, well, I wouldn't do that. So it is a 50-50 shot as to whether it was the right decision on my courses.

I was the first person at the advisement/registration seminar this morning. I received kudos from one prof and my husband reminded me that I wouldn't have made it had it not been for him...did I mention that he makes me coffee everymorning? Yes, I would have made without him, but he does provide great incentive to get up and go in the morning. It is a much better incentive than say, a hangover. I also had one prof who laughed at me the whole time because she would say: this has changed, but you don't care you have a degree; well you need this, but you don't care, you have a degree; can you take this?of course you can, you have a degree. Then another prof would say: "Weren't you the first person here this morning? You need more attention." But the reality is that I was also the first registered out of the dept. I was done by 8:49 am. But I really confused them by showing back up later on around ten. I needed a printer to print out my parking info, so I went where I knew one was. The guy who came in second this morning was still way out in left field when I left to go buy my parking pass which was the last thing for the day. He handed out kudos for being so efficient.

Okay-I think we got that cleared up-nothing effects me (including financial aid) because...I have a degree. I did get a copy of my ASC transcript-uh, yeah that was embarrassing. I can't remember some of the courses I took. I thought I only had one D, in Calculus, but not so much. No wonder my Dad was crying at graduation. It was AMAZING that I graduated. You can really tell which semesters I drank heavily. It is pathetic. But...that doesn't effect me, because I have a degree. My new GPA is 0-0 until I take a test. Clean slate. Nice.

I am studying for Economics. Who would think? I am taking Econ2105 & 06, Acct 2101, Eng 2238 & Mgmt 3361. It sounds really heavy, but mostly just the books are. I paid $600 in books. Thank goodness I had a book voucher for them. I still forked out some of my own money, but nothing too bad. There is only one book for Econ so I saved a penny or two on that one. I only have two books that are used. Hopefully they will all sell back. That would be way cool.

Gosh, I love being a student. It is so invigorating. Back to studying.

Today I did something I have never done before: played hookey. I have always felt obligated as well instill by the rents, to go to work or school or follow through with plans if they are made. This is something I learned a long time ago. We are not lazy. We do not just not go to work. That isn't how it works. But I know that people do it all the time. Seniors play hookey on one specific day to go to Six Flags or folks lay out of work to go to the pool as a "day off". Outside of real holidays or planned vacations, it seems that I have never had the ability to just not go to work. So today I did. I went to work, tied up the loose ends (it IS my last day) and zipped off to the lake. I met up with Sherry and we took off to lay out and talk and catch up to do nothing. It was wonderful. I thought I would feel harried that I didn't go back once we were done catching rays, but nope. I am full of excitement of my next new venture. I am going to school tomorrow. Hurray. I am tickled pink. I drove home from the lake thinking, whew. I get to do something that is all for me. I get to improve my being and not ever take a lousy job again. From here on out I can just be me. I will actually have another degree when I am done: BBA, bachelors in business administration with a concentration in accounting. I will have a trade. Thank goodness. No more hunting or pecking to find out what I can or can't do. I have direction. I have purpose. Wow, that is fulfilling.

It doesn't come by the bullwhip,
It's not persuaded with your hands on your hips and its
Not the company of gunslingers
The epicenter love is the pendulem swinger
She is, She is.....

There is nothing about me that isn't about a pendulum swinging. I do not change by pain. I do not move by discipline. I do not change on penalty of death. I change because that is what I do. I do seek God. I do seek that balance, that serenity that comes with faith. I am not mixed up inside. Yet I am getting ready to change again.

I started on this journey a long time ago. Initially it was as a result of finding out that my degree qualifies me to have a degree and not much more. I was crushed to find out that while I was definitely a student, I was not the best student. Of course I was a drunk student and didn't know it. I still wanted to go on and get more schooling. It was a desire even when I was still drinking. I used to tell people that I was going to go to Ga State to get a masters in abnormal psych or forensics so that I could one day work for an investigation unit of some kind. Unfortunately, I was paralyzed by my drinking and not even able to get out of bed in the morning to even begin to gather information on the idea not to mention do anything other than drink enough to stop the nausea and shakes. Then I stopped drinking and found out that my perception of myself was...warped. I am capable, if I am sober. So now I am sober and I wanted to go back to school.

Being a good pendulum that I am, I looked into law; into nursing; into teaching. Nothing fit. Nothing seemed like something I might be capable of-even without the drink. My desire manifested into my application under the premise of nursing. Seemed reasonable enough and the state is paying folks to get their rns. My life swung right out of that one. Money, property and prestige diverted me from my purpose aka a good looking job. So here I am swinging back into school. This time without any of the aboves as an attempted school ambition. This time I enter with the hopes of accounting. I don't know if it is the right thing. I do know that I am supposed to be there. I am able to be a student. This time I will be a sober student. Hopefully that means I will be an A student instead of a C+ student. There is a definite chance as long as I don't take a drink.

Three more days and I will change. I will go from working girl to student. Pendulum swinging.

There is something to waiting. It can be very painful if there are high expectations. At that point the waiting changes to anticipation. I am slowly but surely waiting on classes at NGSCU. The registration is onTuesday and the classes start on Wednesday. Each day there is something to do. All of it is the action of waiting. First there was the immunization. There was seven days of waiting in that. Then there was the student loans. There was two days in waiting. Then the computer. That was a long waiting because it was double. There was the waiting on the delivery and the waiting on the school. It was hard. My husband even participated in waiting for the computer for two days. It didn't arrive on time so the waiting was even harder. Luckily the matching wireless mouse came a day early and arrived with the computer which eliminated a day of waiting. Then there is the deposit check for enrollment that will be returned after ten days of classes with no drops. Whoa, that means I have to wait into the school year. That means that part of my waiting will actually be taking classes. But it is necessary as a connecting puzzle piece. So that makes it a transitory waiting. Along with everything else, I wait until my job is done. My last day is the day of registration. So waiting for school is also waiting to quit. How coincidental that waiting would be overlapped so well. And here all this time I thought waiting was about service to a table and it's really just about life.

Hot Hot Hot Hot Hot Hot

Farm life is hot. There is no ac at the farm which means that when it is hot, it is hot. There are fans and they really are uninteresting once the heat reaches a certain level. Although, now I understand what the Sistas felt in the Divine secrets as they lay in their hammocks on their front porches and smelled of sweat and powder. What's worse is that there is no ac at work either. They sent people out to fix it and nothing happened. They will have to cut in a new duct and they don't want to so they never showed back up.

The cows all hide underneath one tree next to the fence line when it is hot like this. They also go down to the creek and just stay there. That is the two places they cling to when it gets like this. It is amazing. My dogs live in the creek. I have decided they need gils. They come up to the house when I come home and are soaking wet with mud and strange things attached to them from the river. The horse doesn't seem to notice. Although he is grey with sweat which is different because normally he is white. Then there is the donkey and he just hides in the cows.

Did you know that I started talking at 4 months? Learned that last night from my Mom. She was looking through the old baby book and found that my first word was DADADADADADA at four months. That's awesome. I have never heard of a person talking at 4 months. I said bye-bye at 71/2 months. That's awesome.

Its hot, hot, hot.

Today was a testing day. It was the second day in a row I tried to get my immunization records in order to register for school. People are telling me no over and over and over. It is wearisome to not lose my temper, yell at someone, cry. I am not sure why it is so difficult to prove that I have been immunized, but it is. How do they do this in a courtroom? Prove, prove, prove...

There is a tool that I have learned how to use a long time ago. I only use it in times of complancency or aggrivation. Typically, I am in action of gratitude. As a result I don't have to drink anymore. But sometimes when I lose that gratitude, I have to actually act it out: a list. I write a list of things that I am grateful for in order to alleviate frustration and thoughts of hopelessness.

I AM GRATEFUL FOR:

a mini-marathon of Law & Order on TNT
the Braves gaining a whole game on the penant race
not having any embarrassing film on me from Woodstock
reading all seven Harry Potters
having a goal to which I can work towards: CPA
watching the shuttle go up on tv with my husband
that Sherry's home from vacation
being able to read
having a foundation in a faith that is comforting, overwhelming, and miraculous
mighty mikey
coffee my husband brings me every morning
black snakes not in my house
my family
my new computer that will be here on the 15th
credit to buy the computer
my bills being paid
student loans
new indigo girls cd bought with bday gc


Not really all that frustrated any more. What are you grateful for?

We thank then the O Father, for all things bright and good,
The seedtime and the harvest, our life, our health, our food,
No gifts have we to offer for all thy love imparts,
But thou which thou desirest, our humble thankful hearts!

All Good Gifts around us,
Are sent from Heaven above,
Then thank the Lord, Oh Thank the Lord,
For all his Love...

Our readings for our service today were from Hosea 11:1-11; Psalm 107:1-9,43; Colossians 3:1-11 and Luke 12:13-21. Our associate priest gave the sermon and he is also a chaplain at a local college. He took the perspective that these lessons were about wealth. And I guess to some respect they are. He spoke specifically on Luke. He started out with sibilings will be sibilings and how wealth could seperate a family faster than anything. He said that wealth gives the human perception that there is security, prestige and self: who you are. He said that Christ was looking at it as what you can give. He did mention that poverty was not a virtue nor was wealth a sin. He also mentioned that 16 of the 38 parables that Christ taught were on possessions. He closed with a story of a woman in Mississippi who had nothing all her life giving $150K to a college for black children to have scholarships. I found his message noble and seeing as the church is in the habit of raising money, slightly bias. I also felt like he missed the point.

I thought the first lesson was on God calling his rebellious children of Israel, who were committing idolotry to Baals, to him without using force, but rather mercy. The second lesson, a psalm and gradual, was a psalm of thanks for that mercy. The third, the epistle of Paul, was a teaching of what children of God should do: seek things that are above, where Christ is...set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth...put to death therefore, whatever in you is earthly:...greed (which is idolotry). The fourth and gospel is Christ, again God talking to his people through a human manifestation saying: so it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God. The line on these passages was that God wants us to have a relationship with Him. Do what He asks. Come when we are called. Do not fear. He is not going to punish us for our poor behavior rather teach us what is good and right. Then we are to do these things. Christ tells us (which is one of the things we say at every service): Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. Why is that such a scary thing for us to do? Why is it that we believe that if we do as we are told as children of God that we will be punished? Or maybe we fear for selfish reasons: not getting what we want or losing what we have. Why is it that we want for worldly things? BECAUSE. Because we are not God. We only have a piece of God when we believe and listen to that still, small voice.

Do Not Fear. Why do we fear? Because we are human. God will not punish us because we are human. He created us. He made us flawed. He will forgive us. All we have to do is ... is... ask. All we have to do is ask. He tells us to have faith. So if we ask, he will give us faith. And we never have to fear again. Look towards Godly things not worldly things. Seek and do God's will. He is telling us to join Him. We are to seek and do God's will.

The passage is not about wealth and gifts, it is about recognizing that wealth doesn't matter at all. It is worldly and we are to look for the non-worldly. We are to do things that are what our Father asks of us. We are to practice with all essence of the word in all aspects of our being: humility.

Maybe I should write my associate pastor a letter... or maybe his goal was to raise church funds for the whatever goal they are into achieving these days. I don't pay attention to church finances. There is a guy in our church who is the president of a bank that does that. I just tithe. That is my part.

How did he miss that? We are to seek & do God's will.

Last post July 12...wow.

I went on vacation for the month of July. I think I got lost. I know that I had a birthday or two and went on vacation, but I don't recall the rest of the month....my husband got fired from his job. That was aweful. But the month is just gone. No recollection of it at all. I didn't even write down in my check book for two weeks. Do you know how hard it is to keep a running tally in your head when you are estimating? Luckily, I have done all that this week. I actually balanced my check book and was only off by $3--woohoo. Managed to get that corrected and tidied up. I wrote in my journal trying to recount the month of July and it turns out I did do a few things:

I decided that just because my husband was fired, it didn't mean that I was or that it would have to impede my ability to continue my job.

I went on a paid vacation for the second time as an adult to the beach. It was great fun with Grace & Cooper & Sherry. I saw dolphins, sanddollars, shells and read the entire new Harry Potter (yeah, in three days). Rested up to discover that I can still go back to school if I want to.

Decided that I did want to go back to school, that I didn't want to be a nurse. Think that I am a good bookkeeper and have decided that maybe I could do something with a CPA. We shall see.

I bought a computer. It will be my first ever personal computer. It is my ASC class color of RED. If I can find a wonder woman sticker to put on it, I will.

And I returned to work to find a mess that needed lots of attention and found myself rested and ready to go back.

Tid bit thoughts for blogging that happened during my lost month:

NPR interviewed a man at the finish line of the Tour de France and asked him his opinion about the doping that seems to be common place in the bikers: he said he couldn't see how these men would accomplish the race without the dope. This seems to be the perspective that people are having on the Barry Bonds thing to: who wouldn't use substances to advance. I am sure you understand why I scratch my head. I have been told that I would be arrested for a felony if I drank and drove. But if I am a baseball player or a bike rider, I can operate on a daily basis for carreer advancement on drugs and it is okay? it is expected? Now I could be wrong, but didn't people win the Tour de France without drugs 100 years ago? Did Hank Aaron use drugs? I mean get real.

Why is it that these people are knowingly using drugs and they don't get arrested? Because they are legal drugs? Cattle hormones are legal? So is a beer, so is nicotine, but if I were to light a cigarette in a Georgia restaurant, I would be arrested for smoking in a legally binding non-smoking facility. So why is it that these athletes are allowed. Why is it expected? Nonsense.

Some other thoughts were on Harry Potter maddness and who knows what else.

I missed the whole month of July. That is amazing.

Mama said there'd be days like this,
There'd be days like this,
My Mama said...

So I want to quit my job. Once again. I am really good at my job. I mean, I am really good at this job, but the people. Man, the people. They are as sick as the day is long. They act up, misbehave, are immature, crazy nitwits. Yes, this includes my husband at this point in my processing of emotion. Can ya tell I'm still smarting from today? Because I am. Have I talked to Michelle, no, I haven't. Do I know what the right thing to do is? Sortof. I think the right thing to do is not to do anything at all. I think the right thing to do is to call in sick tomorrow so I can calm down, take the time to find out what God wants me to do. If there are no thunderclouds or loud booming voices, I will just have to pray. And wait. (or some people call it meditating) I might have to go see a Harry Potter movie too. But that would be more about escape than about prayer or meditation.

Mom & Dad say go back to work like a big girl. Suck it up buttercup as my husband says. Maybe I am sick. Sick in the head and need to get better. Drama, drama, drama. I swear.

Maybe it is just one of those days. Like the song says.

Maybe tomorrow will be better, Mama says those days come too.

"Travel lightly, remember your purpose, offer peace"

This was the message this morning that Dena gave. It was based on the gospel reading: Luke 10:1-11,16-20. When I heard her read the passage (the lectors read old testament & letters to Paul, priest reads the gospel), I thought whoa, lotsawords. Her synopsis was on par for that section. Although I don't remember reading that in Luke. I remember the passage in Matthew that is more common place: Go ye therefore into all nations...evangelism is something I am not all that fond of because of some of the ways I have been exposed to it. I didn't grow up in a church of hell, fire and brimstone. If I did, I missed that part. I feel like I was taught that God is good. God is love. And sometimes things happen that we can't explain which is why we are not God and God is God. Generally, when I find someone come along and "WITNESS" to me, I find them immediately repugnant and henceforth keep my distance. There is an addiction that comes with religion for some people. It isn't pretty. Being raised the way I was raised makes me highly sensitive to the spiritually sick. I liked Dena's message because it sounded like the kind of evangelism I could participate in. Travel lightly, remember your purpose and offer peace. I like Christ because he keeps things simple. He didn't say go out and konk people over the head and tell them to be Christian or that they need to be a "better" Christian. It is about attraction not promotion. It is a healthy religion. Not one of violence or condemnation or judgement. That's my kind of spirituality.

Was formally asked to be a Daughter of the King today. It seems like my kind of spirituality too. It is an order of women in the Episcopal church that pray, study and worship to strengthen spiritual growth among themselves, their parish and their community. I can pray for people. It is one of the few services I am able to give. There is a three month process to go through before I would become a daughter, but I have been in great need of a group of women who study the Bible. I have prayed for that for a long while. These women all seem very wise, although they are also very old. They are recruiting younger women to continue their chapter. I think they would be good spiritual mentors. My kind of spirituality. They would teach me how to travel lightly, help me to remember my purpose as I went out to offer peace. My kind.

Happy Fourth!

Don't buy a fifth on the third for the fourth.

In celebration of all those have an opinion about politics, religion or any other damn thing they want to opinionate about, have a great day honoring the country you live in that gives you that right to be opinionated. I celebrated mostly on Saturday at Lake Burton. There were fireworks that were better than any other fireworks in the country up there, in my opinion. There was a bag pipe player who while we were waiting on the display to begin played America the Beautiful and everyone cheered. Then there was a million dollar home that played Fanfare for the Common Man by Aaron Copeland and everyone stopped and looked stupid because everyone thought that was the theme for the Olympics, why would they play that for the Fourth of July display? Uneducated rats. I should have jumped off the boat. I was the only person on our boat who knew why that piece was significant. No one else could even identify it as the Olympic Theme. I felt different from all of them and was ready to go hangout with my study partner from ASC who we both laughed out loud when our professor played Rodeo as the first piece on our final exam. Beef its whats for dinner. It takes a special person to laugh at a music because we know what it is not because we studied but because it is a basis for our very being. Music flows in every ounce of my body. I hate silence, unless it is scored that way. Play me something that will make my heart rise in my chest and make me proud. Play me something that makes me feel like I am soaring on clouds. Play me something that makes me cry. Play me something that makes me laugh out loud. Play me something that makes me sing, with my windows down, sun on my face and moves me from this earth elsewhere.

Anyone who does not have something like that in their life is missing out on life, in my opinion. My parents are players and conductors of music. My brother is a singer. I am a listner, for now. I used to be a player. I used to be so moved when I played something well. Although, as soon as I get a piano again, I will too participate in that music. John & I are going to look for one today. I think music is one of the best things my parents gave me. That and an intimate look at faith. Turns out the two are intertwined.

Listen to your favorite American musician today. That's the best way to celebrate the Fourth of July, in my opinion. God Bless America.

Birthdays are funny things. I remember celebrating like crazy as a kid. I had a barbie birthday, a coca-cola birthday, a hey I'm three birthday. Today I had an Ann Taylor birthday. I figure if we are going to have labels for the birthdays...I was in the midst of a crazy sale and bought two pairs of pants and five tops for under $100 bucks. Can't beat that with a stick. That is what my husband got me for my birthday. My brother got me a double disk set of Les Miserable and a cool Wonder Woman card. My parents sent me a singing chickens e-card. My girlfriend LAA sent me a card and my Mother-in-law sent me a dollar for every year I am old and I got $30 bucks! I am 31. HA! Isn't that funny?

I have never been as overwhelmed with work and hospitals as I was this week. On Monday John and I planned to go see Martha Jean at Northside as she had a scheduled surgery. Then over the weekend my pal Nicky managed to land on his head in the water and lost feeling in most of his extremities which incurred another surgery. Just for kicks my boss decided to have a heartattack. So in twenty four hours on Monday flowing into Tuesday, John and I were at three hospitals, which if your curious as to how that happens at the farm, it means LOTS of driving. We drove to Gainesville. We drove to Atlanta. We drove to Athens. In 24 hours. Monday was almost an 24-hour awake day as we were at Gainesville until four in the morning. That is hard on a body that is almost 31 years old. I used to do it all the time without batting an eye, but it crushed me this week. I am still tired. Well, not so much today. I was tired until yesterday. Then all week was work until 7 or 730 pm. whew. I didn't think I was going to make it to Saturday. Turns out that all three people are sorta okay. Mama Jean is home. Nicky is home and has feeling back. My boss...well my boss is crazy so I don't know that he will ever be okay. Yes, he knows I think he's crazy. This is not news to anyone. I took my job knowing how crazy he was!

I am excited today because John and I have been invited to fireworks. Not just any fireworks, Lake Burton fireworks. I know that Lenox Mall thinks they have it going on with fireworks, but Lake Burton has twice as much money as Lenox and the only thing they spend it on is the fireworks which makes it spectacular. The keenest part is that you are on a boat in the middle of a lake surrounded by mountains. This means that when the cannons fire there is an echo. When the explosions blow, there is an echo. You kind of feel like you are in a steel drum and someone is banging on all sides of it at one time. It is so cool! I can't wait. I even have a new patriotic broach to wear for icing on the cake.

Here at the farm not much is going on. Mikey ate a frog. Swallowed it whole and it made him sick. Really sick. John says that the dogs get high off the skin of the frog kind of like cats and nip. I thought he was nuts. I gave Mikey a little pepto with some food to make him not so sick. Baby has twisted her front leg. It is not broken, just spraned. She has been pretty settled this week as opposed to chasing rabbits and coyotes. When the storm came up though they both ran in the mud room. John even let them stay in there over night they were so pitiful. We have a baby calf that has no mama. She has to be bottle fed which is very funny. She hollers at the top of her lungs when she sees us comin and then drains a bottle like a drunk under Cheshire Bridge. Then she just stands there like whew, didn't think yall were ever going to get here. She then says thank you and goes back to the herd. Funny animals.

Some will strut and some will fret see this an hour on the stage others will not but the'll sweat in their hopelessness in the rage we're all the same the men of anger and the women of the page....

Whew...my kitchen is CLEAN. Almost. There is still the whole concept of painting the thing and getting the stuff that is not ours out of it. Just getting the stuff that is not ours out of it will be a task for the weekend. I did take the leaf out of the table and took out four chairs which gave us more room than believable. Tonight I tackle the living room and then tomorrow I tackle the lake! Gosh the difference on the inside of me is always amazing to me when I clean up the outside of me. I feel productive and useful and like I am slowly getting back to being me.

The lake always amazes me. Did you know that rhodedendrums can only bloom at a certain temperature? It has to be cool...not cold and not hot, cool. The rhodedendrums are still in bloom up here on the lake. It has to do with the mornings being so cool and the shade of the mountains and the natural underbrush. I think they have and altitude requirement too, but I am not sure about that one. It is so cool in the mornings that I have to wear a sweat shirt to work so I look a bit ridiculous with shorts and a sweat shirt. But this afternoon it is going to be 91 and there is no way to get around it.

The other odd thing about the lake is that there are two kinds of people who are on the lake. The diner next door is such a good theatre for it. There are those who live and work here and then there are those who live in the houses on the lake here. The difference between the two is about 100 grand a year. At lunch around 1130, all the men come in. They are constuction of every sort. Generally they are related to the women who run the diner. They have specialties and all work on any number of homes on the lake. Then around 1230 come the lake people. They are in their matching clothes, sun bleached faces, clean shoes. They are totally different. They come from Atlanta, New York, Charleston, the Bahamas. Yes, we have one set from the Bahamas. They typically have children with them who are unruly and have to be told to take their feet out of the booth. They aren't related to anyone and mostly are hard to wait on because they have such expectations that are just not true for this family diner. For example, Nanny makes the bisquits and when they run out she is not making any more and your nuts for asking. Her children and those who are married to her children and their children and those who are married to them do not ask for a bisquit, they ask if there are any left. The lake people get frustrated because their whim is not met. Nanny is 73 and doesn't care. HA! So different.

I like it up here. It is familiar. Comfortable. Well until it is 91 degrees, but then there is a lake to jump into so who cares.

Being overwhelmed is so overwhelming. My house is in explosive mode. I think it would be easier to burn the thing down and start over than it would to get it staight. I forget what it takes to work a full time job, be a girl, be a girlfriend or rather these days a wife, AND keep a clean home. I used to do it when I worked for the City at my apartment, but since the wedding my whole life seems upside down. Now that I am back to a life of regularity, I have forgotten what it takes. My house isn't kinda sorta messy. It looks like it has been hit by a tornado of clothes. Yes, its that bad. There is no way I can handle it any more and I am overwhelmed as to where to start. I know that I will start somewhere though. Tonight will be a Dixie Chicks/Indigo Girls/Dave Matthews Sing-fest and cleaning tirade.

It is really exhausting being overwhelmed. Just writing about it makes me tired.

I woke fifteen minutes late this morning which was bad because I needed to leave fifteen minutes earlier than usual. I managed to get out of the door fast enough to get to the bank and leave downtown Cleveland on time to be on time to work. Then when I got to work I was fifteen minutes early.

How did I do that?

Mom says that she misses the blog. And since I haven't done this in a while, I am not sure this entry will be all that well thought out, but just the same, for Mom...

I was standing,
You were there,
Two worlds colliding,
And they could never tear us a part!

Yeah, so I have fallen in love with my husband again. The whole adjustment period is finally over. Thank goodness, I thought that someone would be in for it like the Sopranos. We are very good partners. We both are learning about communication in the home place which can be great fun. Often there are a lot of "what?'s" passed back and forth as we have trouble understanding. That can be frustrating. But the outcome is so worth the what. However he did hear me when I screamed SNAKE! There was no miscommunication that there was a HUGE BLACK SNAKE in the house. He got that one without a what. That's a good thing. It means that we definitely have some level of communication, which is good.

Strangely, we get along really well in the workplace too. Did I mention that we are working together now? We are. Luckily there are two office locations and he is mostly at the real estate office and I am in the bookkeeper office. (Did you know that bookkeeper has the most double letters, back to back, in one word?) But there are not all that many whats at the office. It is mostly, did you? Yes, did you? Not yet...easy stuff.

You'd think that I would have learned how to communicate with someone by now. I have been walking and talking since 9 months old. But talking to someone as a roommate, a lover and a partner...never crossed anyone like that before, but you'd think it wouldn't be all that different from talking to my girlfriends. Yeah, he totally doesn't understand me when I go into girlfriend language. He rolls his eyes whenever Sherry or Meg call. Like, whatever! It turns out that husbands speak their own language. Weird. But wonderful.

You know the first rule of flyin is? Well I s'pose you do since you already know what I'm bout to say.

I do, but I like to hear you say it.

Love, for all the mad in the verse, you take a boat in the air that you don't love she'll shake you up just as sure as turn in the worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she ought to fall down; tell you she's hurtin 'fore she kicks; makes her a home.

Storms getting worse.

We'll pass through it soon enough.

While I'd like to believe some crazy film taught me this lesson, I know who did. Though it does make a great ending to a good movie. I have been trying to watch the whole movie and have been unsuccessful until today. Got through it, start to finish. I remember the lesson and who taught it to me. It was my Dad.

When I was little, a man gave me the most beautiful lamp. He gave one to my brother too although it was a boy version and mine was a girl version. I don't know that they are worth anything, but they were worth a lot to him. My lamp was Strawberry Shortcake. I remember growing up with Strawberry Shortcake stories and dolls and it seemed like at one point she joined the Saturday morning cartoon line up. I don't know if the stations still do that, but I knew my morning was over when the Soul Train came on and it was time to get dressed and into yard clean up clothes. I can still smell the doll. She smelled like what I would imagine a plastic strawberry would smell like. I know that if you put her in front of me blindfolded, I could tell you who she was. I also had a Strawberry Shortcake bathing suit that I wore forever. It had a criss-cross back and was very confusing to step into for a two year old...or how ever old I was.

It never occurred to me that my parents wouldn't have given me the lamp. It made since to me that since almost every thing I owned they gave me, why not the lamp? Some how in conversation the story of the lamp came up. I think Mom was driving us in the blue marquis on to violin. She told me the story: Mr. Walker had a daughter. She was extremely upset about something so much so that she was determined to run away. My Dad was the youth/music minister of Mr. Walker's church so in the middle of the night, my Dad went to help when called. He some how convinced that youth that things were not as bad as they seemed and that it would all be okay in the morning. Everything is always better in the morning.

I don't know if it is the job of a minister to go into a home with a confused, scared young woman and convince her that life is worth living, worth loving and worth staying for, but that is what my Dad did. She woke the next morning and yes, everything was better in the morning. She learned that when we trust, have faith and believe that we are loved that things pass. It is just a storm and we will pass through soon enough. Her father was eternally grateful to my father for saving his daughter's life. And I got a really cool lamp.

I have always remembered that story. I think sometimes it is the reason that I didn't kill myself when I was drinking. I have a memory of coming too over my bible searching desperately for the answer in tears and without a notion in the world that in order to find God I would have to be sober first. What I did know was two things: God was in that damn compilation of books and that I would have to look for him in the morning because it was too dark and would all be okay in the morning. So I would lay my drunken head down, pass out, come to, go to sleep, and sure enough it passed. That horrid sensation, that emotional crush, that unbelivable, incomprehensible demoralization was gone. Today, I don't ever have that. The storm has passed and when I go to bed or wake up, it is always okay.

It is always interesting to me why anyone would want what I have. Lately I have been in a room full of people and felt completely alone. That is hard when my whole being is contengent on a connection with others. Yes, I am that dependent on people still today despite everyday I work on a relationship with God. This woman came up to me on Saturday night after the meeting to let me know that the things that I share she relates to and so much so, she would like me to tell my story at her anniversary. I almost started to cry in public. I don't do that and if I do, something is WRONG. Really wrong. Of course I didn't, I almost did, but it was so startling that I said yes, I'd be honored and then told her that I was so overwhelmed I had to leave. So I left. I went to eat dinner with my husband and a friend. Mmm...ribs. So now I am going to tell my story in front of a whole bunch of people who know my story because they experienced most of it with me and who knows, maybe someone will get something from it. If nothing else, I already have.

Everyone in my life has gone stark raving mad. They all seem to have some great crisis going on so when I call them and say "how was your day" I have to be prepared for a lengthy conversation with me saying things like mmhmm, oh no, well that's too bad. Meanwhile, my life is looking up. I am happy to say that my husband has a killer new job as do I. Couldn't ask for much more, so when they finally take a breath and say so how are you? I say oh, fine. I feel like a horrible person because I can't say HURRAY! This is the coolest thing ever! Because then I would be a jerk. I have decided to take refuge from the chaos and go see my Mom. Hopefully my new workout stuff will come in by the end of the week so I can look hip when I work out at Mom's. Nothing worse than looking like a loser when things are on the up and up. My one friend who is not in choas is also bailing out this weekend to the homestead and it sounds like a good idea. It will be the first time away from the hubby as I doubt he will go because he is a freak, but I am ready to go see my Mom. Sometimes a girl just needs her mom even when she is thirty. Even our cows are freaking out. They are almost done though. We took two calves away from the mamas and one calf died. So the mamas are walking around screaming at the top of their lungs for the babies looking incessantly for their children (when they are in the barn--you'd think they'd stand in front of the barn, but they wander aimlessly around all 65 acres). They will forget what they are doing tomorrow and go back to being cows again. Maybe that is what will happen come Monday, everyone will forget what they are doing and go back to being cows.