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.

My husband might not make it into another day awake. I have never seen anyone operate on as little sleep as he has in the past two days. Wednesday, he came home at six thirty to sleep for a couple hours, until ten only to go to lunch with a business guy. Came home and slept from four thirty until six thirty. Then he went to work to come home and go to this thing in ATL until four the next day. He slept for an hour in between work and leaving for ATL. Then he slept from four until seven to leave for work tonight. CAN YOU SAY NUTS?!! I can't imagine operating on sleep like that. I know that he really wants this opportunity that he is losing sleep over but OMG!! CAN YOU IMAGINE?!!

My husband is officially nuts.

I have found out the hard way what skipping a workout does for me. By nature, I am an angry person. My parents thought something was seriously wrong with me when I was growing up. They consulted a preacher's wife because I was so angry all the time. She said the only thing you can do with a child like that is pray for them. I don't remember being as angry when I was a part of an excercise regimen. When I was playing a sport, I don't remember being as angry. These days my anger is tempered by things that I didn't even know how to do back then: prayer and meditation, behavior corrections, self awareness, identification of fears. I have found a new tool: working out. Although, I don't work out like some people, I do what feels good to me. So far, I am up to about a thirty-five minute workout. I have been doing it about everyday to everyother day. The other day my head told me that I should reward myself and take an extra day. This would mean that there were two days without working out instead of one. No big deal right? No big deal: wrong. All day long anything anyone said to me was wrong. They were wrong! My mother knows exactly what I am talking about because she used to be the anyone (unfortunately she was also the Mom so that meant that I was being disobediant to boot.). The other tool I used was never miss an opportunity to keep my mouth shut. So I am not necessarily telling the stupid person that they are stupid, but I am thinking it! AND I am smiling which means they know I am thinking they are an idiot. Dumb, dumb, dumb they are. As I am riding home from Cornelia with a good friend she looks at me and says she is sorry that I am so out of sorts. She asks me when the last time I worked out was because this is the point in the conversation where we go over our workout stuff. Hmm...two days ago. Yeah, she says, you can't miss a day of working out. That is what is wrong with you. You need to work out. You know what I am thinking? She doesn't know what she is talking about. Stupid people. So the next day I workout, hop in the shower, hop out of the shower and am singing around the house when the hubby says, oh, you're in a good mood today. Damn it. The girlfriend was right. I can't miss more than a day of working out. I was crazy. My guess is that my parents have been praying for me since Mrs. G told them to, so all I have to say is thanks for the prayers. I am not so angry today. Now I am going to workout.

So this week it was harder to love myself as I was in great anticipation and mostly just fear. This seems grave to those who don't know that I am afraid of my own shadow. This week though it was an ingrained, soul written, had no idea was there fear. Big enough that I was able to function throughout my life happily except when it was brought up at which time I thought I would throw up. Turns out that I am afraid of money. Not money like hey I got paid but money like not having to work for the rest of my life. While this is only a reality five years from now, it is still a great possibility. So I come writing today of good news for John and I: John got a killer job. I am no longer in fear. Turns out that through my little emotional upheaval I have learned that God doesn't want me to be poor. I have also learned that poverty is not spiritual. AND I learned that neither is arrogance. So, if you throw them both away, you have a pretty good person who can be of service to God. Hopefully, I will be a service girl.

In other farm news, someone stole my dog. The black and tan puppy. I am a little upset, and keep calling all other dogs, Rocky (his name), but it is better than finding him squished on the side of the road. There is nothing fun about cleaning up dog parts. It is easier on the heart and the eyes to just know that God got him. It did give me ample opportunity to see the pasture as I walked the entire 65+ acres with Mikey. Turns out that we live on a BEAUTIFUL piece. There are two creeks and a river that border the property. All of them look like something Cooper would totally get a kick out of climbing, swimming, fishing, camping, exploring through out. I was amazed by the landscapes they created. Found a good site for a bonfire which I totally expect to have in the next couple of weeks (after blackberry winter and once John gets back on a day schedule again--hurray for the day schedule).

On Saturday I was back to doing things that make me feel better again. I cleaned out the back bedroom. It actually looks like a place where someone could lay their head if they came to stay. There is a place to put our clothes and everything! There was LOTS of things thown away and LOTS of things to be given away. There was lots to just be put away. John thought it would be great fun to leave the trash outside to test the puppy. One for Mikey, zero for John. Trash all over the yard. ALL OVER THE YARD. Mikey had eaten something aweful, he was so stinky. However, he thought it was great fun and just couldn't get over the wonderful toy John had left for him. John didn't make that mistake again. He took the trash to the dump the next day, but left it in the mud room over night.

Our farm house is slowly turning into our home. Each day it gets a little more like John and I instead of like John and Albert. Thank goodness. Have I ever mentioned how bachelor's don't clean? Yeah, gross. But it is clean today. And I feel better about myself.

In the spirit of doing things that make me like myself, I have begun an attempt at physical sobriety. What does this mean? I don't know. It means that I have been praying for some time now to have the obsession and compulsion to eat more than I need to be removed and to give me the desire to be healthy today. It means that after six months of praying the prayer, I have become willing to not just work out but consistently work out. I also have not had a desire to eat after ten pm. While this sound surprising to some of you out there, my sleep schedule is all screwed up since I started waiting tables and getting home at eleven o'clock or midnight is standard with a period of wide-eyed-ness until around two am or on really bad nights, three. Much to my shagrin, I would eat at these times of the night. Nothing I ate was percievably healthy by anyone's standards other than the Pilsbury Dough Boy. Now if I eat, it is a bowl of cereal or popcorn. I don't know what has changed, I just know it has. I continue to pray my prayer and I continue to feel better.

Also, in the spirit of sharing good spirits, I baked my husband a pecan pie. Don't you wish you were at the farm right now?

There are some things that are unexplainable. For example, my not blogging for forever...

Another is the first Dave Matthews Album. There was a guy I met my freshman year. He was, of course, a GT man and was either not very bright or not very right, which ever, he flunked out. Before he did, he initiated me into the world of fraternities my first semester. His name was Dave and was from Hoboken, New Jersey. I don't know where Hoboken is, but I love the name. He was a big brother figure. Someone who called me his little sister. For example, he always had a pull out couch for me to sleep on if I was unable to get home and didn't want to fall prey to some smuck who was looking to get lucky. Another example was him kicking me out of his room when he was smoking pot. Ah, yes, looking out for his little sister. He always provided me a ticket to the GT football game even if I didn't have a date because he never had a date. He was a guinuinely (wow, how do you spell that word Carter?) nice guy, for being a pot head.

He also introduced me to good music, good people and good habits. He wouldn't let me drink and study at the same time: good habit. He introduced me to who I would consider my big sister at Agnes Scott: good people. He listened to Dave Matthews all the time: good music. I can remember most importantly, he made me feel a part of something. I guess I was a part of a friendship. At the time I was not very good at relationships. Actually, I have never been very good at relationships. I was particularly bad at them in college because if they didn't circle around drinking, there was no point to me. But he was a friend. He was my friend.

I think I only have one picture of him at a toga party at Delta Tau Delta. He was hanging out with Lori. She hated me, but whatever. That feeling of being a part of has always stuck with me. It seems like my relationship with Dave ended much as so many did: somehow aweful and awkward. But that small period when life was good, I remember. When I listen to Dave Matthews, especially the first album, I find that confidence and comfort of being in a friendship. Somehow the relationship is a part of me. It is a part of me that I am not ashamed. I was someone who I liked in that relationship. When I listen to it, it reminds me that sometimes, sometimes, just sometimes, I like myself.

Strangely, it also makes me want to do more things, have more relationships where I like myself. I haven't liked myself much lately. Mostly, I have wanted to hide under the covers and just wait for it to be over. I don't know what "it" is and Dr. Pinka would berate me for not haveing an antecedant to that "it", but IT has scared me for a while and I am not sure, but IT scares me into a place where I am not happy and don't really like myself. For the first time in the past couple of days, IT has been on the back burner and God has given me some willingness to get out from under the covers to see if I can battle IT. So I am taking action to like myself again: Clean the farm house, clean the farm house, clean the farm house. I want to make the farm look like a home instead of this mishap of two people colliding and calling it home. In the name of Divine Order, First Things First, had to have good music. So I hooked up my stereo system (can you believe I have been here six months and not hooked up my stereo? Can you say Rae is loony toons?) and to my disbelief, what was in the cd player? Dave Matthews. I knew I was on the right path. It made me like myself again. Thanks Dave.

My puppies sleep upside down. They sleep on their back with thier paws in the air like a dead opossum. They are also chasing cows now. When I mean chasing, I mean leaping up grabbing a hold of the cow's tail while barking incessantly and swinging back and forth while the cow is running back towards the heard. It is very entertaining. They love it. The cows who are easily two tons or just shy of it are actually afraid of my twenty pound pups *and their mom*. I'd like to say that I am not afraid of something that was twenty pounds, but I am afraid of wasps so there you go. We had FIVE wasps in the mud room this morning for which John caught all five and let them go outside. You'd think he's a zen master, but mostly he is just not afraid and a touch insane. Three made their way back into the mudroom while I was doing laundry. I have decided they must have a bat cave entrance into the mudroom. I killed all three. There is nothing about me that is zen like. There is only the roar from within that comes in the victory over the vile, stinging, invasive bugs. The pups think that I am doing a dance of some sort and cheer me on from outside. The days are becoming more like summer everyday. They are warm to a point of sweaty. I sit outside and play with my pups until they cower from the sun in their hot winter coats and retreat to the shade of the trees in the yard. Unless they find it necessary to show off and chase after a bull calf only to be recalled by my short, loud whistle that comes with a dog treat to which ever dog gets back to me first. They return, tongues hanging, begging for me to move into the cool. Never. I am all sun, all the time. I can't imagine not having summer. Although this will be a summer of firsts for me. First time at the farm. First time married. First time in school (ever). First time with my puppies. Maybe if I can learn to sleep with my feet in the air, I will make calmly through this wonderful season of heat.

Just some blog thoughts...

if you lived in my head you would know that I am feeling better by the way I started blogging today without a computer, but now John has the ick. ICK!

Automechanics are awesome people. I have never been to an auto mechanic that wasn't required by an insurance agency (due to wreck...speaking of which I find it interesting that my brother called me in the midst of his wreck, it occurs to me that I am the person he knows who knows the most about wrecks, which I am not sure if that is a compliment that he called me for an opinion or a humiliation because I have had so many WRECKS!!!) or that wasn't employed by a dealership before for serious work. I am not going to a dealership for my oil change, that is stupid, but you know, my light came on in my car. And, it is a new car and it is the first time the light has ever lit. And, I say to my hubby, let's take to Saturn and he said, let's not. And, we took it to a mechanic. John is pretty mechanically inclined which helps because there is no wool to be pulled because he knows how to sheer the sheep. Today my car purrs. I didn't even realize that it wasn't purring before I took it to the shop, all I knew was that I went from getting 37 miles to the gallon to 34 miles to the gallon, which translates in my head as waiting to long to change the oil, but nooooooo...... the mechanic made it purrrrrr...it now gets 39 miles to the gallon without long distance travel. I used to get 40 when I made a trip to mom's, but this tank was bustling about town after I got back from PTC. Oh yes, 39 around town...take that you oily men! The other cool feature they fixed was my ignition. I used to have to yank the steering column and turn the key and stomp my foot (the stomping was so not to lose my cool) in order to start the car. The lovely mechanic made it so I put the key in and turn and it starts the car just like a new car. Purrrrr....

Fafsa sucks.

Started watching the west wing series again. Strangley it is not as addicting this time. I turned to Pretty In Pink after one side of the dvd. I never made it through PIP because it was late and I fell asleep. Finished wathing Coal Minor's Daughter the other night. It is long, took me two times to get all the way through. There is something about country singers who are real that makes for comfort. When I say country singers who are real, I mean who have experienced their songs as opposed to having people write the songs for them. Some day I will buy that one. It was a real decent flick.

I like a super Wally World on a Friday in the mountains. It reminds me of Tuesdays in Decatur. The thing in the mountains though is that you ALWAYS run into someone you know. That didn't neccessarily happen in Decatur, although it happened a lot. The thing about Fridays is that everyone in the county gets paid because they all earn wage and no salary so they go see the super Wally for their weeklies. There are so many people in there that it is like the ATL because you have to just go about your way and ignore all else. Watch out for carts man because there is no seeing around corners. You just have to see about yourself. There is no acknowledgement that you almost get run down, they keep right on going. It allows me to be less self conscious about my shopping. It also allows me to disappear in the masses. I get a little confidence out of the whole deal. The hustle and bustle of the city. Nothing like it.

March is in like a lion. We have had so much wind it is surreal. Hopefully it will go out like a lamb and take the cold wind outta here. It is like a trick when I am trying to get dressed: oh look beautiful sunny skies...but then you walk out in it and are promptly hit up side the head with something the pups drug out from under the house because the wind picked it up just to remind you whose boss...brrrr...go away.

just some blog thoughts...

I am watching Anne of Green Gables, the sequel. I grew up knowing it as Anne of Avonlea. Why am I watching Anne of Avonlea? Because I am sick. That is what I watch when I am sick. I can remember it being on all the time on PBS or at least one hour of it on the Disney Channel.

This sweet woman at work said that I reminded her of Anne. She said that I was haughty just like the Anne girl. I said thank you because I will take any relation I can get to Anne Shirley. Weird compliment though.

I have been sick since Monday, only on Monday I didn't know I was sick until Tuesday morning I woke up as though I had been in an accident. My body was sore, my nose was stuffed up and my throat was scratchy. Turns out that Cooper had the same thing and was home from school. He had a cough to boot. So I went and watched over the greatest soccer player while eating popsicles and watching movies. Then I went off to grab his sister to take her to her chorus concert and by the time I got back to their house, I was beaten and battered by my cold. It fooled me though. I went to bed at nine and got up around eleven the next day and thought hmm....I feel better only sniffles and no pain.

So I took medicine and went to hang out with my favorite artist, Megan who is working on her first piece for sale. She has quite a talent. She says that she NEEEEEEDS me to be there when she paints. Mostly she needs me there to paint about like she needs me to be there when she cleans. This is a game we played when we were roommates. I would go and sit in her room and she would clean all around me and then she would come and sit in my room while I cleaned around her. It was dreadful to learn how to clean without her when we each had our own place. Needless to say, mostly she paints while I sit there and do nothing. It is the same effect as the cleaning. However, I got back to the farm and K-rashed. John told me not to go out again, but not me, not the social butterfly. I went out to meet with friends. I went to bed at midnight, midnight thirty only to rise at TWO PM today. I couldn't move. My body ached, my head pounded, my nose dripped, my sinus cavity was breeding virus and now I have a cough. I took some medicine again. I hate taking medicine. Thirty minutes I could stand and carry on a sentence and tried to take a shower. Then I passed out. Then John and I went to Dahlonega for a meal as I was feeling up. GReatest meal ever. Horrible server--excellent food. Like WOW. Then off to the post office and ZAP--no energy. I am glad that I got out because otherwise I wouldn't be convince that I needed to just stay home. Sherry called to see if I wanted to hook up and realized once I said hello that I was not in shape for it. So here I sit...Anne makes me feel better. She is the best medicine.

I saw a falling star tonight and thought of Sarah and thusly thought, I needed to blog.

Lots of cool things happening on the farm. We have a visitor that was originally thought to be a beefalo and now turns out to be a real cow called a long haired highland. Unfortunately, it is a calf so mostly it looks like a four legged ewok. (a beefalo for those who are wondering is half buffalo, half cow raised for lean beef) Our farm butts up to a farm owned by a fancy doctor from Augusta. Unlike us, he raises animals for amusement instead of income. He has all sorts of stange animals such as Jacob's sheep and funny goats and turns out--long haired highland cows. They are really beautiful animals, but not as nice as our muts on our farm. Also, turns out that laundry is a dangerous thing for me to do. There was a wasp in my washer the other night that was on one of my turtle necks I was pulling out of it and walla! stung not once, but twice. It crawled up my sleeve to get me the second time and I promptly derobed with all due speed. Other cool things, the puppies have learned to stay and sit. Haha! I have the smartest puppies ever. Turns out they are dirt balls though. Their new thing is to venture out into the pasture with Mom and RedDog so they can role in cow patties. Yeah, that's gross. Definitely qualifies for dirtballdumb.

Read my brother's blog about change. Gave him a buzz and it turns out that he had a friend who also had lots of change and that both of them harnessed their changes into productive results. I got to thinking about it and that never seems to be my reaction to change. For example, Megan moved back to the mountains from Athens. Major change and took my old job (thusly I have a new one) major change. Yet I whined about it. I cried a bit in selfishness. I even told her about how selfish I was being. No hurray or yippee or perhaps constructive behavior like a welcome home gift, no.no. WAAAA. That is how I respond to change. It is better than it used to be. I used to waa and scream and kick and hurt people who loved me. Why? Because I am nutso. The pastor's wife said that there was nothing to be done with a child like that (referring to me), all you can do is pray for her. Guess it worked. I still am upset by change. Mom says that not even normal people like change. That made me feel not so crazy. Next time though, I am going to have to figure out how to get a new room out of it or a bookshelf. Mostly, I just get heartache.

Althoguh, I would say this and will close, I am changing into a maybe nurse. I don't know what I want to change into, but I am trying to change my whole life because the way I used to be wasn't working for me. Sometimes lots of little changes shift over all to one large change that makes more sense than all the little ones. When it all comes together in some sort of coincedence, I call it a God shot. The nice thing about change is that I don't neccesarily know what is going on and strengths my faith the God does. Perhaps that is the constructiveness that I get out of crying over changing.

It is strange having more time off and making the same amount of money. I am not used to having this much time off and I really don't know what to do. I work Thursday thru Sun and then poof I'm done. There is no in between. It is a weird concept working less and making more. I wish I had done it a long time ago. I am glad too because come school time all this extra time that I have on my hands, I will be studying! I am so excited about the whole concept of going back to school. I am not sure that I know how to study any more though and that is frightening.

Puppies are not dirt balls. They are unconditional love balls. They don't care if you feed them or not. They don't care if you yell at them or not. They just want to be petted. My two puppies left that I am not willing to give away just fell asleep on me. As in, thank goodness your home Mom, we have been tired of playing in the cold rain all day and your lap is nice and dry and warm. Mmmm. Love me. I have accidentally stepped on these dogs, kicked these dogs and sat on these dogs and they still love me. It is hard to walk when dogs heard your ankles so mostly I just do the best that I can and apologize if I hurt them. Sometimes I feel the same way the puppies do: I don't care what you say or what you do, just love me.

Prestige is out today in my local movie gallery....gotta see Christian Bale....Oh, watched a really bad acting action movie that as far as action movies go it was decent. Called the Marine. There were some funny lines in it that made it easy to watch. It was very apparent that this movie was a coming out movie for the wrestler turned actor. May I say, he is one beautiful man. If for no other reason ladies, watch the movie. He is also slightly adept in acting and perhaps with the right guidance would do okay in movies. He should try a role as a diamond theif next. Overall it was a C- movie, but the effects were great. There were some excellent blow up scenes and some well done fighting choreography that made the film a rentable before the new movies show up. Do I remember the actor/wrestler's name? Unfortunately no, but someone will and he will do fine once he transitions into the main stream. If Ashton Kutcher can do it, this guy can.

Sometimes I watch movies to change the mood I'm in. Sometimes I watch movies because there is nothing else I want to do. Sometimes I watch movies because I don't know what else to do. Needless to say I watch a lot of movies. I have currently six on loan, three from the local store and three from Netflix. I also have four that I have purchased, but have not opened. Needless to say...

Some of the films I watch are funny and yet so true to life for example: Urban Cowboy. Saw this one last night. Funny and yet so true to life. It reminded me of Mama's in Atlanta. That is so real in the relationships of the people there: totally country and totally crazy. Although I totally get the 70's appeal too. I am sure that it was a hit. I rented it because I thought it was John Travolta's first film and first films are always surprising in one way or another. He surprised me in that he made a career off that role. He played a dumb cowboy. No oscar there. But it was right on for the part.

Some films I watch are horrifying. For example, I actually watched all the way through, I say that because it was not easy to do: Monster. Augh. What a horrifying thought and tragic in its truth. Absolute oscar. I watched one of those moves tonight without knowing that was what I was going to watch. I have put so many things in queue for Netflix, I can't remember why I chose the movie. It was called Sometimes in April. This movie was spectacular and riviting. The storyline is based around the genocide in Rwanda. It is an African Shindler's list. The difference was that there were no name actors in it with no name producers, director, etc. I don't know how exactly I picked this one. I think it was because I didn't know what happened in Rwanda, I just knew that something happened. Something aweful. Sure enough, it is amazing. When all of it happened I was a senior in highschool with no ability to look outside of myself long enough to understand what was happening. Now that I am aware, I recognize that the same thing is happening in the Sudan. Millions are dying and because we have no vested interest, unlike countries who have oil or weapons or better hype for elections, no vested interest, we let people die. It's not our business. I am not sure what exactly we could do since we are already engaged militarily in a war that is none of our business, but I am inclined to think that we should be careful minding business that is not ours for vested interests might become bloody interests. With that same man power we sacrafice for vested interest, we could create peace where there is no vested interest and we wouldn't have bloody interest either. I don't understand these wars. I don't understand these countries whose leaders honestly believe in the concept of power. Power is not everything. Mostly I find power to be nothing. So these leaders who sacrafice their countrymen like lambs, they don't know they have no power. So they make hate and war to show they have power. Hate is not power. War is not power. Power is an illusion. Unfortunately, the fall out of hate and war are not illusions. This movie was a great movie. Provocative. Political. Factual. Heartwrenching. It was amazing. I am still thinking about the things that occured throughout the film and probably will be for days. How appropriate too that tonight there is rain on my tin roof. This movie was a great movie. Sometiimes in April.

One pup, two pup
Red pup, blue pup....

They are slowly but surely going away. It is really sad. I am very grateful that they are not going away the bad way which would be via coyote or hawk. They are going to good homes AND one of them is mine. John gave into me keeping one pup. Rocky. He is not the brightest one, that would be Jill which Mom and Dad got, but he is the best farm pup. He waits on us to get home. He doesn't mess with the Red Dog (turns out that red dog is really not red at all, he is a black mouth cur, but whatever). He follows on John's heel wherever he goes AND he sits in my lap to sleep.

And then there were two: Wolfman Jack and Mikey. Mikey will make a great guy dog. Bachelor household. And Jack would make a good family dog. They are mine right now, but God is finding them others who want them.

Mom said when she left today that it was sad her taking a pup. It is sad, but it is so relieving. I was most afraid that Jill would get eaten because she was the most adorable and playful and thus most exposed to being eaten. My tears today were mixed for her to be gone from our farm, but to be well taken care of and for the knowledge that she would live. Relief is a powerful feeling. The boys I don't worry nearly about. I am glad we are down to two. BUt my guess is that my heart will break again when I give them away. It is just one of those things. My Mom cried for six months after I went to college. So I will cry for a half hour after each pup. At least I get to visit Jill.