Krissy's Eulogy

Krissy was the baby. Our beautiful baby sister, born on June 5, 1966 and taken to her heavenly home on December 18, 2005. The only child born to her parents, but welcomed by a slew of siblings. Since she was 7 years younger than Rocky, the previous baby; we were all quick to dote on her, and just as quick to point out to Mom how terribly spoiled she was.

Despite the fact that we’d like to blame how spoiled Kris was on Mom, we have to take credit for our role in it as well. We created our own little monster! It was hard NOT to spoil Krissy, because she was just so darn cute. She had those huge dark brown eyes with long, curly eyelashes, olive skin that surrounded perfect, pearly white teeth in a rosebud mouth. She said cute baby things like; “Cha-Cha bo!” when she wanted her bottle filled with Chocolate Milk.

Yes, chocolate milk!

What kind of mother gives her toddler chocolate milk in her bottle? One who believes the sun rises and sets in her precious baby girl!  It didn’t take long for us to believe it as well, and we showered Krissy with gifts and lots of love and attention.

Long after we had all become adults, Krissy remained the baby, a role that she settled in to quite nicely. I‘m sure she‘d say that being the baby had its advantages, because even though the rest of us stopped exchanging gifts at Christmas, or for birthdays, Krissy still got presents from all of us, because, well….she was the baby!   Then, we’d all groan and complain to Mom about how spoiled rotten she was!

Kris may have been spoiled in many ways, but that is not to say that life was always kind to her. She had more than her fair share of life’s difficult times. The fact that we are standing here at her early grave is proof.

Could her life have been different if she’d made better choices?   Probably.

Was she capable of surviving on her own as we all expected her to do when she became an “adult?”   I am not so sure.

After having lived with Mom all her life, including after Cody was born, she was cruelly tossed out of the nest with Mom’s death. We encouraged her to spread her baby wings and fly, and for awhile, it seemed she’d gotten the idea. She tried hard to make it on her own, and we applauded when she got a job and bought her first car. Then life got to be overwhelming for Krissy and we stood back and watched as she fell flat on her face. Drugs. Homelessness.  Poverty.

In the past ten years, we expected that spoiled little girl who was ill prepared for this cold, hard world to suddenly grow up and make it on her own as we went on with our lives.

Suddenly, Kris was faced with life-threatening strokes. Three of them in a row.  She amazed us and her doctors as she fought to live and overcome the effects of the paralysis on her right side.  She didn’t complain and adapted to her circumstances the best she could. I was particularly awestruck by her strength.

Despite the doctor’s warnings that she was sure to have another stroke if she didn’t change her lifestyle, she continued to smoke.

Recently, she went to live with her father and I talked to her just after she settled in, asking the question that every smoker dreads….

“Krissy are you still smoking?”

“Noooooooooo!” She said.

“Oh Krissy, I am so proud of you for stopping! When did you have your last cigarette?” I asked.

“Yesssstttteeerrrrrrdaaaaaayyyy!”

Bless her heart! She was trying!

Who knew that Kris was as sick as she was, on top of attempting to recover from her strokes? Krissy didn’t complain and finally, last month her dad recognized that something just wasn’t right and took her to the hospital. That’s when they discovered that cancer had invaded her fragile body. It was everywhere.

They prepared her for the end of her life here on earth, telling her she had two to six months to “live.”

You know, I think she was probably ready to leave her struggles behind and have some much deserved peace.   How much can one person endure in one lifetime?

The author, C.S. Lewis once said, "Has this world been so kind to you that you should leave with regret? There are better things ahead than any we leave behind."

Kris was ready to leave, without regret.  Knowing there were better things awaiting.

In closing….When I heard the words of this popular country song by Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton, I immediately thought of our baby sister laughing with joy as she spread her wings to fly. Filled with perfect peace at last! There, on the far side of the sky, she joins her mother, grandparents, and sister Kim. I know that we’ll all be together again one day soon.

Listen to the words of this beautiful song.

When I get where I'm going
On the far side of the sky
The first thing that I'm gonna do
Is spread my wings and fly

I'm gonna land beside a lion
And run my fingers through his mane
Or I might find out what it's like
To ride a drop of rain

[Chorus]
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
I will shed the sins and struggles
I have carried all these years
And I'll leave my heart wide open
I will love and have no fear
Yeah when I get where I'm going
Don't cry for me down here

 

 

 

 

Krissy's Funeral

The weather was perfectly gloomy for my baby sister’s funeral this past Friday. The grey “marine layer” that rolls off the ocean just 10 miles away, was thick and hanging as low as our spirits. Since leaving Orange County 25 years ago, I’d forgotten how chilly and wet it can be first thing in the morning, until the California sun finally breaks through and burns off the miserable fog.

Krissy was the second sister I’d lost to cancer and strangely, the second sister to die at the young age of 39. What are the odds? What are the freaking odds?

Krissy didn’t make it a month after her diagnosis. Cancer had invaded her entire body. A grapefruit size tumor in one lung. Cancer in her lower intestine and ovaries. It was already in her bones. They said she had about 2 to 6 months to live and sent her home with Hospice. How does a young woman go into the hospital on several occasions during the past year and see a doctor regularly, for high blood pressure and complications of multiple strokes, and NOT be diagnosed with cancer? I think that she was “dumped” by each hospital that she entered, because she was a charity case. They fixed her obvious ailments and got her out of there quick. Her dad said he’s going to file a lawsuit for “wrongful death.” Now, I am no expert on these matters, but several “somebodies” dropped the ball.

The graveside funeral was lovely, even though there were only 9 of us in attendance. Her father and her son chose not to attend the service. I don’t understand and I wouldn’t have made the same decision, but in my life lessons I’ve learned the hard way that I must let each soul walk their own path.

I didn’t get to tell my sister goodbye in person before she died. Fortunately, she knew I was on my way. I was scheduled to go see her last Wednesday, but she passed away that Sunday before my trip. Instead, I wrote and presented a eulogy of sorts. I’ll make that my next journal entry.

For Krissy

"When I Get Where I'm Going"
(feat. Dolly Parton)

When I get where I'm going
On the far side of the sky
The first thing that I'm gonna do
Is spread my wings and fly

I'm gonna land beside a lion
And run my fingers through his mane
Or I might find out what it's like
To ride a drop of rain

[Chorus]
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
I will shed the sins and struggles
I have carried all these years
And I'll leave my heart wide open
I will love and have no fear
Yeah when I get where I'm going
Don't cry for me down here

I'm gonna walk with my grand daddy
And he'll match me step for step
And I'll tell him how I missed him
Every minute since he left
Then I'll hug his neck

[Repeat chorus]

So much pain and so much darkness
In this world we stumble through
All these questions I can't answer
So much work to do

But when I get where I'm going
And I see my maker's face
I'll stand forever in the light
Of his amazing grace
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
Hallelujah
I will love and have no fear
When I get where I'm going
Yeah when I get where I'm going

In Loving Memory of my baby sister...........

           Kristina Patricia Ankeny

       June 5, 1966-December 18, 2005

It's Cold and Flu Season!

“There ain’t nothing uglier than a sick, old White woman!”

                                `Immortal words of JM Newman-my Papa

                                                                              

The wait for my prescription to be filled would be “at east 45 minutes” according to the cheery clerk at my clearly over-burdened HMO pharmacy Monday evening.

Every stiff chair lining the perimeter walls was filled with someone who looked, sounded and probably felt just as bad as I did. If I may speak for all of us, “we” were in NO mood to wait that long in a room full of other sick souls; one of which was likely to infect us with some horrific malady, destined to be the final nail in our coffin, considering our weakened state.

As I had spent three wretched days in bed with fever, body aches, congestion and a cough from the depths of HELL, I knew I had something akin to Meningitis. But the fine young M.D. disagreed and told me I had a “virus.” Of course, there was “nothing” he could do except write me a prescription for cough medicine with Codeine and then recommend “Sudafed” with lots of fluids and rest. He politely patted me on my feverish head and off I went to the pharmacy.

My 45 minute wait, turned into an hour and my body was revolting. It was the first time in over 48 hours that it had been in a vertical position. I headed over to the vending machine and bought a cool bottle of water, hoping I was strong enough to twist open the cap.

After and hour and a half, they still hadn’t called my number, or put my name up on their visual display. There was at least 25 people waiting in line to pick up their prescriptions. Considering the numbers and how slow the line was moving, I figured I‘d just better get my fanny in line and hopefully, by the time I got to the counter, mine would be ready.

We took the wait in stride; laughing and joking amongst ourselves. And, of course, covering our coughs. One lady behind me picked up the newspaper and turned to the obituaries saying, “I am going to look and see if I died!”

I replied, “Well, if I didn’t die, I sure missed a good opportunity over the weekend!”

Another lady said, “I think I am going to die of old age before I can pick up my prescription!”

Finally, after another 45 minutes passed, I made to the counter, paid for my prescription and left. I had to step over some guy’s skinny, out-stretched legs to make it out the door. He may have just been asleep, but I swear, it could have been rigormortis!

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s cold and flu season.

 

 

Special Announcement

Fly Boy and Fall Girl are expecting!  I am going to be a first time Grandmother, in August 2006!

They didn't waste a bit of time since he arrived home! 

Congrats to all of us!

Just call me Grandma!

Oh the things you'll see.........

My work site is at about 4200 feet in the mountains, surrounded by farmland and small ranches; some passed down through many generations as evidenced by an old family cemetery tucked away in a hidden corner just off State property. 

The mountainsides are covered with forests of ancient, gnarled scrub oaks and tall pine trees that reach for our clear blue skies.  Our firing range is bordered by craggy rock hills, covered with sage and tall, wind-whipped grasses which must hide a variety of local wildlife that  probably pay no mind to the humans shooting at paper silhouettes, several days a month.  If it gets too noisy, there's plenty of other similar areas to settle in comfortably on the property.  We won't bother them, and they know it, because we've got some serious work to do. 

Our job is to keep the bad-guy clientel inside the safe confines of the fences, with armed towers and electrified perimeters that no one has dared tried to scale.  While the job is often interesting, it's equally  negative and not the type of job that gives you a great deal of personal gratification.  So we find our simple pleasures when we can get them; a well-executed drug bust, finding weapons before they end up stuck in someone's ribs, saving a life by being first on the scene in an emergency, sometimes it's just being a positive, professional role model.  

When it comes to animals, even the biggest tough guy convict can be reduced to a quivering mass of jello. While not policy, nor condoned by management, many feral cats have been lovingly tamed and cared for by our local felons.  With staff assistance they've managed to find adoptive homes for countless kittens and helped end the cycle of reproduction by assisting us in trapping the unruly ferals so we can get them spayed and neutered before returning them to their happy home.  The tame adult cats are simply placed in cat carriers and staff haul them off to be sterilized and returned to their happy "owners."  

I am happy to say that there are no more kittens awaiting adoption in my facility.  

(This entry wasn't meant to be about the kittens, but it turned out that way.  I really intended to write about the fact that I saw a Bobcat on grounds yesterday.  What an amazing sight!)  More later.    

Ahhhh Memories!

Tomorrow is my 52nd birthday. 

I think I still look pretty good for my age.  Most people can't believe it when I tell them how old I am, so I must be doing something right.  But, admittedly, I am going into this aging process kickin' and screamin', fighting every step....like Mike Tyson. 

However, I can't help but get a little melancholy about the old days, when I could turn some heads, since now when someone's turned their head around me, it's usually to sneeze.  So, tonight, while perusing my favorite journals, I came upon this entry by Wendy about how she really offended a Spanish-speaking woman when she tried to communicate with her by using her limited foreign language skills. 

It brought back memories of about 20 years ago, when I was a cheery, pretty, skinny, young professional woman .....................

Me:  "Helllloooo"

Caller:  "May I speak to Chi-Chi Naglas?"

Me:  "I am sorry, you must have the wrong number!"

Caller:  "This is not Chi-Chi Naglas?"

Me:  "No, there's nobody here by that name."

Caller:  "Okay.  Goodbye"

I figured that Chi-Chi Naglas must have had my telephone number before I got it because over a two year period, or so, I'd receive calls for Chi-Chi.  Every time I'd patiently tell the caller that once again he had the wrong number.

Then one day, I heard my Lieutenant speaking in Spanish to someone, and my ears perked up when I heard the word "Naglas."  After his conversation ended and we were alone, I said, "Robert, what does 'Naglas' mean in English?"

Embarrassed he replied, "Ass."

I then told him the story of how for years, I had someone telephoning me at home, asking for "Chi-Chi Naglas" and how I'd politely tell them that they had the wrong number!

Robert about died laughing.  He looked at me with a huge toothy grin and said........

"Lisa!  Don't you know what he was saying?  He was asking for 'Tits and Ass!' "

What this fat-assed, middle aged White woman wouldn't give for a call like that now!

 

 

What life delivers!

Today, we celebrated Phil's upcoming retirement after 22 years of faithful State service, with a potluck.  Well, I should say...some of us honored Phil by continuing with our plans, even though he couldn't be there with us.  

There was one whole department, in fact the department that had promised at least 20 different food dishes for the event,  who decided we were "tacky" by continuing with the "celebration" when Phil was laying in a hospital bed after suffering a stroke on Tuesday morning. 

After we learned of Phil's stroke, the planners...those closest to Phil, discussed the situation and decided that if Phil couldn't come to the party, we'd take the party to him, via video-tape.  He had a long road to recovery and certainly wouldn't be in any shape to attend a party again any time in the near future.  We felt that if the potluck went on as planned and we could video-tape our messages of love and encouragement, it would help him in his recovery so he could enjoy the retirement that he'd worked for so long!  So, we continued as planned. 

Phil's condition worsened.  He suffered a major stroke yesterday afternoon.  It didn't look good.  That made us more determined to ensure that Phil knew how much we loved him, and how he touched our lives while we worked together so closely over the years.  Nothing was going to change our minds about video-taping our tribute to this man, and we felt it was a very loving and special thing to do.

However, a lot of people didn't think the way we did and they refused to participate.    

They were offended and in "an uproar!" according to some sources.  They weren't coming and they were not contributing their food items as promised. 

They telephoned my secretary repeatedly through the day with snide comments about what we were doing.  She and I were stunned at their response to something that we; his closest co-workers, thought would be a blessing to him and his family at this difficult time.  

Then we received more bad news.  Phil was on life-support and not expected to live. 

We shed tears as we continued with our plans to honor this wonderful man.

We didn't have much food, but we had enough for those in attendance.  Our serving area was decorated with colorful tablecloths, bright blue paper plates with matching napkins, and helium filled balloons, which surrounded an 8x10 framed photo of a young uniformed Phil, all those years ago.  We signed a Get Well Soon card and a Congrats on Your Retirement card! 

The Master of Ceremonies scanned the food and serving area with fun commentary!  Like a roving reporter, he asked those in attendance for favorite memories of Phil.  We all stepped forward for our turn to share our love for the man who couldn't attend.  We joined hands and prayed for Phil's recovery and thanked God for the time we shared with him on the job.  The MC filmed that as well. 

Then we headed down the mountain, to the hospital where Phil lay in the Intensive Care Unit.  His devastated wife and their son shared that Phil was able to communicate with them yesterday by nodding yes and no to various questions after his first stroke.  By yesterday afternoon, he'd suffered a massive stroke and was hemorrhaging.  A risky new medicine was administered and it wasn't effective.  His brain was swelling.  One nurse said Phil's stroke was the worst he'd ever seen in his career.   The family decided they would wait a day or two to see if there was a miracle, before disconnecting the life support.  Phil wouldn't want to be in that state, said his wife.

Two by two we were allowed to "visit" with Phil.  I held his arm and told him that I loved him and how grateful I was to have him in my life.  I told him how much I depended on him at work, and what a great work ethic he displayed.  How his quiet and calm nature was always such a pleasure and how I'd miss his wry sense of humor!  

When it was time to leave, I told his wife about how our party went today.  I told her about the video-tape and she was thrilled.  She said that Phil would have wanted his party to go on without him, and that she and her family would treasure that video-tape for the rest of their lives.  

I feel in my heart, we did the right thing.  I can't understand the attitudes of the others. 

When things are done in the spirit of love and honor, it can't be wrong.  

 

 

 

 

Cuts like a knife

The boarding school child, home for the holiday, and her "overly-positive", yet "demanding" mother are butting heads.

Ok, so in my child rearing efforts, I have tried to teach my kids that there are more appropriate ways to deal with their anger than to yell across a crowded mall, "I HATE YOU! YOU EFFFFFFINNNN BIOTCHES!" to a couple of teenage bullies that have "tried to ruin" her life.

But a kid can only take so much of being called and referred to by the horribly derogatory terms and names that can deeply cut a fragile soul.  Add in the techno ability to post such things on the internet at a popular "My Space" site, and the lightening quick aspect of the email and you can torture a young woman who doesn't even attend school with you anymore.

High tech harassment.

Bullying at a much more sophisticated level.

Right or wrong, hopefully, spewing pent up emotions at her tormentors released the anger that she'd turned inward, causing her to inflict visible injuries on her beautiful body.

If only they could see the cuts bleed.

As Jesus said, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."   

Finally!!!!

Finally! 

I am now able to post!  Geez! 

I can't tell you how many times I had to delete cookies, footprints and temporary internet files to fix this problem! 

I will post something a little later after I calm down, because right now all I want to do is cuss AOL, Bank of America, Netflix, etc.

 

This is only a test!

This is only a test!  If this were a real journal entry, it may say something with substance and have no damn banner ads!

I am sooooo frustrated. I have cleared my "cache!"

I have deleted my cookies!

I have deleted my temporary internet files! 

I have erased my footprints!

And.....I STILL CAN NOT POST TO MY JOURNAL, except through AIM.

I do not want to post to my journal through AIM. I want my journal to work exactly how it did before AOL screwed it up with banner ads!

Arrrrrrgggghhhhh!!

Ok...So I cut my nose off to spite my face and abandoned AOL J-Land without the expertise to manage the technical aspects of Blogger.

I can't stand it. I have to be able to post my thoughts without the frustration of plundering my way through a new system that doesn't promptly post my words. Arrrrrggggghh.. Therefore, AOL...I humbly bow my head, with my tail between my legs and return to my beloved J-Land, to resume my writing....ADS and ALL!

But....that doesn't mean that I have to like it!

Moving my words.........

Please visit me at http://wearinmyheart.blogspot.com/

 

Here's what the Washington Post says about this banner ad issue that's causing AOL bloggers to find homes elsewhere:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/11/22/AR2005112201648.html

Save the excuses. Just pee in the bottle!

On Monday morning, I was sitting at my cluttered desk doing whatever managers in State service do whenever they are not in the ubiquitous “meetings” of the unlike minds, when I received a call from the Employee Relations Office.

The cheery secretary said, “Captain, would you please come up to the office when you get a minute?”

Being the “glass is half empty” kind of person that I am, I immediately began thinking the worst. A call to the ERO’s office can only mean one of a few things, such as; a grievance has been filed against you, a subpoena with your name on it is about to be placed in your hands, you’re about to be walked off grounds and be placed on Administrative Time Off pending the completion of an investigation or ::gasp:: terminated for some transgression.

Swallowing the huge lump in my throat, I went for the latter, jokingly saying “You’re not going to fire me, are ya?”

“No!” she replied with a touch of laughter, “Just come on up here when you have a chance!”

Deciding that I couldn’t take the stress of anticipating what this summons was all about, I promptly bounded up the stairs and stiffly presented myself as requested. The secretary handed me a pen and said, “You have been randomly selected for Drug and Alcohol Testing! Read this and sign here.”

“Oh thhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaattttt!” I said, relieved.

Bring it on.

But all of a sudden, I began to feel conspicuous, even somewhat guilty.

Good God, I thought. I had a glass of Plum Wine last night. Alone. Purely for medicinal purposes I might add. I needed to relax my aching back.

I felt horribly compelled to share that information with the secretary, sorta like throwing myself upon the mercy of the court…… Honest, it was only one glass. No, I don’t have an alcohol problem!

Fortunately I came to my senses and I decided against spilling my guilty guts to this young office assistant. Nothing is sacred around that place. I can just hear the gossip now!

Instead, I’ll just wait for the test results! Lord…. it’s enough to drive a person to drink.

Thank God I didn’t take that prescription muscle relaxer that Tam offered me! J

Ab's Graphic Art Project

Is that awesome or what!

Art and Providence

 

"Providence creates an unfolding situation that is exactly what the person needs, although not always what he may think he wants or desires.  This is called luck by those who are unaware of the workings of higher Worlds.

Providence also creates very difficult circumstances to reveal or dissolve a fixed situation ... This is called bad luck or later, A Blessing in Disguise."
                                                                 ~ Warren Kenton

 

Having been thoroughly enjoying my current empty nest, I’ve neglected my journal. I don’t know whether that’s good or bad. Perhaps most of my writing is generated when I am at my wit’s end and life is simply overwhelming. Right now, I am in a good place emotionally and the words don’t come so easily.

This quote from an Inspiration Line ezine just really hit home with me today while I was thinking about Ab and the events that led up to her going to boarding school. While she initially believed that her life was ruined forever, I think she’s beginning to believe that this has all been a Blessing in Disguise.

When I visited Ab during Parent’s Weekend, I noticed a significant change in her attitude and appearance. She was wearing very little make-up and she was obviously happy, introducing me to all of her eclectic friends and chattering almost non-stop. I commented about how many friends she had and she said, “Mom, everyone here says that I am adorable!” Oh how this child needed that validation from someone other than her family!

We toured her classrooms, met her teachers and learned about what she was studying academically and in her art major. It’s truly an awesome learning environment with teachers and administrators who really care about their student’s success. The art displays were exceptional and I am proud to say that my daughter’s three dimensional ceramic sculpture was one of only four to be displayed on a pedestal in the art show! Her colorful and very professional graphic arts project was also display and it looked like it could have been a CD cover!

My 13 year old aspiring artist was very matter of fact when talking about how often they have nude models for their drawing classes. Although, she said it kind of grossed her out when one of the nude women raised her arms to reveal her hairy armpits.

In some aspects, the independence she has in that para-college campus atmosphere is a little daunting, as for some reason the kids like to think of them selves as young adults. And, in many aspects they are, but I don’t like hearing my daughter or her friends curse as if it’s totally acceptable.

As we were having dinner with the students in their chow hall on a perfect evening for enjoying the crisp outside mountain air, several people decided to come back in from the patio area after being bombarded by hungry wasps hovering over their food. As the door opened right behind us, a mom commented about the wasps and Ab’s girlfriend who joined us said, “There’s a shit load of ’em out there!” Ab threw in a few colorful phrases once or twice during our visit. Her older sister and I had to advise her that she is still only 13 years old, and that she should not use that kind of language, especially in front of her mother!

Tam and I tried to get Ab to come spend the night with us at our cabin that we’d rented for the weekend, but Ab was adamant about hanging out with her friends instead. It didn’t hurt my feelings in the least, because I am thrilled to see my baby girl happy and enjoying life once again.

Providence, for sure.

He's Home!!!

Welcome HOME Fly Boy! 

Well Done, Soldier!

I am so very proud of you and very grateful that your tour in Iraq is finished!  Thank God you are home on American soil!  I send my love and thanks for your service to the Iraqi people and the United States of America!

Now, can I have some grandbabies?  Please?  ;)

Love, Mom

 

Monday Photo Shoot: Fall Foliage

San Bernardino National Forest, in Southern California

I took this shot Saturday in Idyllwild while visiting my kid at school!  It was a beautiful day...in more ways than one!

Internet Dating

To reach any significant goal, you must leave your comfort zone.

~Steven Covey

 

Papa used to say he’d get married again when he needed help back and forth to the bathroom. Me? I’ve decided to start looking now considering I ain‘t gettin‘ any younger.

So, I stepped way out of my comfort zone. Yep. I joined one of those online dating services; the one that claims it‘s “Different” with “Thousands of Success Stories!” You know the one, founded by the grandfatherly Doctor; a relationship “expert” who combined “clinical expertise with the latest technology” (a computerized Personality Profile) to help millions find the right person for life-long love and happiness.

Compatibility is the key according to our relationship expert and his detailed questionnaire will measure the intricate facets of a person to include the “29 dimensions that are most important in relationship success.”

Now, supposedly he finds you matches, based upon some of the important dimensions. The introductory profile information lists three of the “Relationship Strengths” from the person’s Personality Profile, his best life-skills, how his friends would describe him, what he’s passionate about in life, what he’s thankful for and how he spends his leisure time. Then of course is the list of things you two have in common. You may also receive a photo of your match, or he can share it with you at a later stage. The next step is for one of you to begin communicating with the other match by selecting 5 questions out of a possibility of 20 or so that they provide for you to ask your match.

Call me picky, but any woman who’s worked around convicted felons as long as I have can quickly spot an idiot. Who knew there were that many on one dating service? I have “closed” matches on 55 of ‘em.

The latest………………………

Meet dick. Yes dick. Not Capital D…Dick. Just dick. Obviously dick doesn’t know how to capitalize his name.

I don’t know. Maybe he had potential; he’s 55 and a successful Real Estate Appraiser, who lives about 45 minutes away. But you know….I just find it hard (no pun intended) to refer to someone as “Dick.” Try introducing your new boyfriend “Dick” to your 13 year old daughter.  It just wouldn’t work.

Although, it wasn’t just his name that sealed his fate with me, it was his choice of introductory questions that he asked me to answer.  Well, actually it was just one of the 5 that was a real turn-off for me and I felt it was indicative (again, no pun intended) of his true colors.

The offending question:

How do you feel about premarital sex?

Answers available:

0 I am completely opposed to it.

0 As long as marriage is imminent, it is okay.

0 In the context of a loving relationship, it is okay.

0 I accept sex as a natural part of dating.

0 _________________________________________________.

 

There was just not enough room in that fill in the blank section for me to completely answer this question as I wanted.

Something like…………Dick!  Dick…….Dude…is this really a problem for you? How many 50 year old women have you dated that have decided to save themselves for their 2nd marriage?

So, instead I just closed the match.  You know, I have a feeling there are a lot of Dicks out there.

I may be single for quite awhile.

 

Being somewhat germ phobic and almost obsessive about washing my hands, I haven't been sick in a couple of years.  So, what ever hit me last Tuesday, knocked me on my rear and I've been in bed for days now with fever, congestion and feeling downright yucky. <==== Surely a clinical term.

I can't remember when I've slept that much!  Actually, yesterday I did manage to stay vertical for several hours in front of the television until I'd had enough of the ever perky designers on home makeover shows on HGTV.  In between naps, I finished two fun, girly books; The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters, by Elisabeth Robinson and Can You Keep a Secret? by Sophie Kinsella; author of Confessions of a Shopaholic (both of which I loved) and have started a third, Blue Shoe; by Anne Lamott.  I am willing to share the first two mentioned hard-cover books with any of my journal friends who are interested, if they'd also pass them along when finished.  Just send me an email with your address and I will send them off bookrate. 

On a positive note, Fly Boy is counting the DAYS until he's home.  Yes, he will be home sometime this month!  Can you believe it's been a year already?  He's saying..."Only 12 more flying days!"  And, based upon the harrowing combat time he's had lately, I can understand why he's counting flying days!  We were both crying when he shared his 4 hour combat mission where they took continuous fire and two direct hits to the helicopter without crashing!  It was incredible and I cannot believe the stress these soldiers experience and then get right back out there and do it again! 

Please keep him and his troop in your prayers as they wrap up their time in Mosul, Iraq.

 

Pimping my brother's new journal..........

Please welcome my brother to journal land!  His journal is entitled, I am better at writing than speaking....and he says the title says it all!  A father, husband, cop, Christian and so much more. 

 

http://journals.aol.com/ktmcoach/Iambetteratwritingthanspeaking/

Catchin' Up

There are so many reasons that I’ve neglected my journal lately. If I’d taken the time to write about many of the things that have been going on, I’d have some pretty special individual entries. Now the moments have passed, and I am not sure that I can recreate the enthusiasm or interest that I had at time. Rather, this will be just a jumbled catch-up of the past couple of weeks, to let my friends and family know I am okay and for my historical record.

Today begins Abs third week of boarding high school and I am happy to say….she LOVES it! Actually, in all this time, I’ve only had a few emails from her begging me NOT to pick her up to show/sell her lamb at the county fair because she doesn’t want to miss any classes! (Good Lord! My child has been abducted and just who is this cooperative little imposter?) And, she said she has “many friends” and “this place is cool…way better than home!” Score one for mom!

Parent’s weekend is October 15th and 16th and I guess that will be the first time I will see her, since she’s not coming home for the fair. I can’t wait to talk with her, find out about all her classes and meet all her new friends! I’m hoping to see a very happy teenager at that time.

I am thoroughly enjoying this empty nest and I think the best part about it is that my house stays clean! The freedom that I am experiencing is almost a little daunting. I’ve been raising kids for a long, long time and I’ve never had this feeling that all I have to worry about is me! One Saturday, I took off to Los Angeles, to visit my Uncle Lee and his stepson who’d come from Northern California to see OSU and UCLA play in the Rose Bowl. I couldn’t let them come within a few hundred miles and not be able to give them a hug! I met them after the game at the Burbank Hilton and enjoyed a nice dinner and then spent the night with them in their suite. Since they had an early plane to catch the next morning, I had the place to myself, so I propped up my feet and enjoyed the very thick Sunday Edition of the Los Angeles Times before stopping in the hotel restaurant for a nice quiet breakfast. After my meal, I hit the road and did a little shopping on the way up the mountain. Another great mini-vacation!

My Grandma Jessie is just barely hanging in there. My Aunt Mary called the other morning and said that Grandma had a very rough night. Mary is at the point that she’s staying with her constantly because she‘s told her how tired she is and “I guess 89 years is enough.” Grandma was pretty coherent yesterday when I called to tell her how much I love her. She said, “I know Lisa and I love you too. I’ve just had soooo much love in my life!” I then said, “Grandma if you go to Heaven soon, would you please tell my dad how much I love and miss him?” She replied in her sweet Okie drawl, “Oh, yes I will and your mother too!”

I just cried because I thought that was so very sweet! What an amazing woman.

More later.

 

 

School Daze

The car packed was packed to it’s breaking point Saturday with nearly all the essentials needed by a 13 year old heading to boarding school.  Tam, Ab and I made the best of our 3½ hour trip on Saturday to Ab’s new school, by joking and talking about the adventures she would experience in the new setting. After an extended summer that she was really getting to like, Ab joked that she’d rather stay home and eat Cheetos, than go back to school.

Especially “that one” where she didn’t know anybody!

Ab mentioned that she was glad Tam came along to help her decorate her half of the dormitory room. As if I couldn’t hang a poster of Kurt Cobain! Geez. It was my job to make the bed. I can guarantee that’s the last time it will be made for quite some time.

Upon arrival we were glad to see an eclectic mix of kids, also new to the school, as the “returning students” were not going to arrive until the following day. Of course to hear her tell it, they were all “preps!”

I knew when I saw the girl wearing way too much dark make-up and a fan-folded dollar bill in her hair as a very stylish bow, a teacher that had wide purple stripes in her hair, and a White boy with a huge afro, that Ab would eventually find a kindred spirit. Walking to the beat of a different drum has some advantages.

She wore her “You’ve ruined my life and can’t you tell I am clearly miserable here” look for the entire registration period, which had the desired effect on me. It was especially heart-wrenching when I heard that Ab’s Korean roommate ditched her after dinner for a group of Asian girls.  Then Ab wandered around by herself for quite awhile.

Later, during the dorm meeting, she made sure to stand away from the group of giggling and happy girls who were there to introduce themselves. I watched her from my perch on the hearth of the fireplace and breathed a little sigh of relief when I saw that Tam had forced some interaction with Ab and another new girl who was also off on the sidelines. “Tansy” commented on how cool Ab’s Slipknot shirt was and I think they found some common ground.

I am hoping by now that she’s found a group of kind girls that will welcome my shy one into their fold. My parent’s handbook says it takes about 2 weeks for the kids to workout their social circles, before they can start settling into the routine of school. First things first, I guess.

Their schedule is so full for the few days that I haven’t heard from her and I am just beside myself. I can’t wait to hear how it’s going and I am praying that she’s doing better than when I left her. It’s so tough, but I know I did the right thing and I am betting in a few months, she‘s going to love it there!

Civic Duty, et al.

Today for the umpteenth time in so many years, I presented myself at our Superior Court for my civic responsibility.....Jury Duty.  

In my opinion, considering my background, I'd make a hell of a juror, but for some reason, those defense people just don't like me in the jury pool.  I was excused and out the door with the second preemptory challenge.  Thanks but NO thanks, they say.  So, I will see them again this time next year for more of the same. 

Time for some awesome news...............My girlchild was accepted to the Arts Academy High School as a Visual Arts student and awarded.......ahem.......$25,270 in scholarship funds for this school year!   I couldn't believe it!  This is a dream come true!  She had to have an additional telephonic interview with the Dean of the Visual Arts department, which was the clincher.  He indicated that her artwork was very "fresh!" 

I think she's going to love it there and really discover her true talent and passion in the various art forms that she'll have a chance to study.  This is a college preparatory school with demanding academics, but small enough that they will keep her busy and on track with her study skills, in a positive environment with kids that have similar interests.  I am praying that she makes some awesome friends this year.

We are currently in the process of packing and getting everything together for her arrival at the school this Saturday, with classes to begin on Monday!  Today I bought her a desk/study lamp, and colorful new bedding for her dormroom.  And a flashlight, because classes go until 6:30 pm.  Yesterday I filled up a new fangled plastic footlocker with new shampoo/conditioner, toothbrush and toothpaste, new jammies, socks, writing materials, a laundry bag/soap, etc.  Thank goodness I taught her how to do laundry because she's on her own there with that!  We still have to shop for some new clothes and a "fashionable" backpack, by Friday.   Yikes! 

Katrina

My personal and professional life this past week had me spinning 90 miles an hour (a poor choice of words, all considered) and I am ashamed to say I didn’t realize the magnitude of the destruction and devastation caused Hurricane Katrina until Friday night when I finally sat down in front of the television and watched the benefit concert, Dateline and 20/20. Nothing drives a point home like seeing video and hearing the horrific stories.

I am heartbroken and saddened for the sea of precious humanity awaiting help from a government who has been slow to respond to this overwhelming natural disaster. Our government’s tunnel vision focus has been on possible terrorist attacks, when in fact, “Homeland Security” is so much more. We can only pray that this is a significant wakeup call for all of us when it comes to the power of Mother Nature and the appropriate response in the aftermath.

Once again, I will try to prepare my home and family for “The Big One” that California is predicted to have one of these days. My previous efforts at ensuring “earthquake preparedness” have diminished greatly over the years. Supplies must be rotated and replenished. This disaster has reinforced the fact that a family must be self-sufficient for quite some time before expecting help. I vow to make this a priority over the next few months.

My daughter in law, along with 2500 other soldiers from Ft. Bragg, North Carolina, have been deployed to Louisiana to assist in the relief effort. According to Fly Boy, she was very excited to go, despite not knowing how long they’d be there. I hope they can provide a lot of assistance and that they find it to be very rewarding. I only wish I was in a position to help. If I were retired, I’d make my way there to assist in any capacity needed. Instead, I will provide my assistance via a monetary donation to the Red Cross and pray for strength for the victims of this deadly storm.

 

Krissy

Krissy is my youngest half-sister.  She's now 38, but has always been the baby.  Even after she had a child, she lived at home with our mother and they were two peas in a pod.  Mom was not a good role model and suffered from a variety of ailments, including mental illness.  Neither of them held a job and I don't know they managed, but they lived on a steady diet of greasy fast food, sugary soda and cigarettes. 

About 10 years ago, when she was just 58 years young; my mom died suddenly as a result of respiratory arrest.  Not surprising considering the constant smoking.  After her death Krissy just seemed to fall apart emotionally and physically.  She began using drugs and lost custody of her teenage son due to the drugs and neglect.  She became homeless and at one point we even filed a Missing Person's Report with the police because we couldn't find her.  We were certain she was dead, but thankfully that wasn't the case.  But she could have been considering the circumstances in which she was found. 

Somehow Krissy had the good sense to call for help.  Our brother came to her rescue, and took her away from the drugged man that wanted to hold her hostage for her part of the rent for a nasty, roach infested motel room in a seedy part of town.  Kris was given a fresh start with one of our sisters in the Mid West, but before long she headed back out to California and was homeless again in no time.

Several weeks after she had her first debilitating stroke we heard from her in the county hospital. Before long they put her in a taxi and sent her on her way.  Still unable to communicate properly and having extreme difficulty walking, she had a second stroke in the homeless shelter.  Ultimately she ended up back in the hospital, where she suffered a third stroke that they didn't think she'd survive. 

Her will to live and her drive to regain her strength was amazing and inspiring.  In no time she was again ready to be released.  I met with the hospital's social worker and we made arrangements for her to collect Social Security Disability and obtain appropriate housing for someone in her condition.  Before long she was living in a group home with a loving caretaker who fixed her charges wonderfulhomecooked meals and ensured they took their medications as prescribed.  

Kris lived in the group home for the past two years and did pretty well.  Eventually her son graduated high school and was permitted to come live at the same place.  We'd talk on the telephone every once in awhile, which was difficult because her speech was greatly affected. 

I don't know how she managed to purchase cigarettes on her limited income, but she continued to smoke, despite the doctor's warnings, and the concern of her family and friends.  I knew the danger and had talked with her doctors.  She was at extreme risk of suffering a fatal stroke due to her high blood pressure, which increased with each cigarette she put to her mouth.  Regardless of what any of us said, she continued with her nicotine habit. 

Today I received a call from her and we managed to catch up on a few things.  She had moved to her father's house up north, and her step-mother was going to be her paid caregiver.  I was excited for her that she was now in the care of family. 

Of course I had to ask the question that every smoker dreads..........

Me:  Kris, are you still smoking?  

Her: Noooooooooooo! 

Me:  Oh my gosh!  Krissy I am so proud of you for stopping!      How long has it been since you smoked?

Her: Yessssssssstttttuuuurrdddaaaay!

God love her...It's a start!

 

Dyin' to go there.........

Since yesterday was the 1st anniversary of my father’s passing and I visited “him“ at the cemetery, this topic just seems appropriate.

 

Life and Death

My family has spent a lot of time visiting cemeteries. With Papa’s interest in our family’s genealogy and history in general, it was inevitable that we’d spend a significant part of our annual vacations visiting graveyards of long dead relatives and various famous and some pretty infamous historical characters.

Every summer we’d head to Eastern Oklahoma and Arkansas to make the obligatory cemetery rounds and pay our respects to our ancestors and in some cases, descendants whose lives were cut tragically short. Papa had at least one son buried in the Indian “Camp Creek” cemetery and a marker for the other son who was “buried at sea.” There were generations of Newman and Riley family members buried in sunken graves shaded by ancient oak trees. Markers and headstones worn by weather and time. Decoration Day flower arrangements soiled by the red Oklahoma dirt. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Uncles, Aunts and cousins.

At the Salisaw cemetery was Papa’s young half-sister who died as a child in a horrific car accident with her father at the wheel. Muldrow cemetery held “Mama” Spencer, my great-grandmother. Many a time my Grandma Jessie stood at her grave and shed tears of sorrow, as if her death had just happened, instead of years before. “I miss my mama so much!” she’d cry. You never get over the loss of your mama she said. “Jessie, Do you see the angels?“ said Mama Spencer before taking her last breath. Grandma Jessie had sisters and brothers buried there as well. They all had their stories. Some died in infancy. Some too soon as adults, and all before her; the eldest.

It was during those times that I came to know my family’s colorful history. The successful suicide of my paternal grandfather after many unsuccessful attempts. His never ending grief at the loss of Brenda in the accident while he was driving. The Chitwoods, buried in Arkansas, who never acknowledged their illegitimate granddaughter. Their son, buried in Texas, who fathered the girl, and loved her mother to his dying day, even though they never married. Her picture found in his wallet after he died, would prove it.

The war heroes. Family members fighting on both sides of the Civil War. “Change of life babies.” Surprise! The Aunt who tried to extort money from a kidnap victim’s family, even though she had nothing to do with the crime. Tales of the boys hiding up in the trees to watch as she snuck off to be alone with her boyfriend. The great grandmother who fell to her death from a runaway horse and buggy. “Didn’t everyone think Grandpa pushed her off ?” Papa would ask his mother.

The children understood the routine. We visited all the “live” relatives and all the “dead ones.” All of ’em. We remembered. We learned. Heading into Grandma’s house one afternoon after an all day cemetery marathon, she said to us….Did you go to all the cemeteries?” My little brother who was about 9 years old promptly groaned…”No we passed one!” We needed a bumper sticker that read…This car stops at all graveyards!” ”Hey“ I‘d joke with the kids when they‘d had enough, “Don't you know people are just dyin’ to go there?”

Then to the folks that weren't kin. Once we stood at Charles “Pretty Boy” Floyd’s grave, while my grandmother recalled her younger days as a neighbor to Pretty Boy and his family. “Public Enemy Number 1” was a folk hero to the Oklahoma people who dubbed him their Robin Hood, for his actions of stealing from the rich to help the poor. His shiny new headstone replaced the one that was stolen years before and “‘fans“ continued to chip away souvenirs.

In Arkansas, along the river at Wilson Rock, we visited the original resting place of Tiana Rogers, a Cherokee woman who married Sam Houston. Papa shared his knowledge of Tiana’s life, and followed it up with a visit to her final resting place at Fort Gibson. Later we’d visit the museum in Houston, Texas to learn more about Sam’s fascinating life in public service. Judge Isaac “Hanging Judge” Parker’s court, gallows and museum were nearby in Fort Smith, and by visiting we learned the fate of many of the lawless in Indian Territory who faced the judge and ended up in the local cemeteries.

I’m not so sure that my oldest children and younger brother’s will remember those times with Papa, but I hope they do. Maybe this entry will spark a few hidden memories and they‘ll be thankful for the special times in their youth.  It is now the time in their lives when they are begining to bury their ancestors.  I hope one day they will visit those resting places with their kids and share the stories of their lives. Every life has a story and it’s meant to be told and cherished for generations.

This story is part of mine, in honor of Papa. 

In Loving Memory-One Year Ago

                         John Morgan Newman

                              January 29, 1936-August 25, 2004

School Shopping!

Experience is a hard teacher because she gives the test first, the lesson afterwards.               

                                               ~Unknown

 

Today we will tour another private school to consider if Ab doesn't get accepted to the art academy.  This school may be the best after all, considering she's been pretty spoiled and sheltered all her life.  This type of rural environment that's about 3 hours North of us, with all of its simplicity will certainly build character.  Here's info from their website: 

Paul Squibb, a Kent School alumnus and Harvard graduate, and his wife, Louise, founded Midland School in 1932, believing that the essentials of a good education are a student, a teacher, and an idea.

Beyond being a college preparatory boarding school, Midland was created to be a small, rural community that relies on the work of its inhabitants to meet its basic needs. Conceived in the midst of the Depression, these ideals still form the center of the school's philosophy, and every student who earns the privilege to attend Midland will assume not only a great deal of responsibility, but a great tradition of service.

In a world of increasing complexity, Midland School's objective is both timely and straightforward--to foster in young people a strong, lively intellect and impeccable character. A splendid physical setting and the unique opportunities afforded by a twenty-four hour day, seven day week boarding school provide a community in which both students and their teachers live together, bound by the tenets of self-reliance, minimal consumption, and closeness to nature.

The School is a non-profit organization that is governed by a 16-member board.  The estimated value of Midland's property is $15,000,000 and the school's growing endowment is currently approaching $4,000,000.  Annual giving generally yields $300,000 for the school, the bulk of which helps fund Midland's substantial financial aid. Certainly, Midland's budget and use of financial resources looks nothing like other boarding schools, and we pride ourselves in putting our limited funds into people and program, rather than new structures. It is the hope of the school that our students inherit some of these lessons in frugality, and generosity.

Sounds exactly like what this child needs!  Wish us luck! 

Now, I am off to roll her lazy fanny outta that bed!

Bumper Snickers

 

Be Counterculture. Raise your own kids.

 

As I made my way through the grocery store parking lot to run in and grab a bottle of cranberry juice, I saw the above message on a bumper sticker. It just about stopped me dead in my tracks, but considering why I needed the cranberry juice, I hurried on about my business.

Now that’s a novel concept, I thought to myself.

Then I immediately began to experience a heroic sized guilt trip for even considering placing my child in ::gasp:: boarding school.

I thoroughly beat my self up and questioned my decision all the way home. By the time I walked in the door, I wanted to turn my cranberry juice “cocktail” into the real thing with a big shot of vodka. But I didn’t. I just cried instead.

What kind of mother sends her kid to boarding school? Am I throwing in the towel? Letting someone else “raise” my kid? Is this really the best thing for my child? Shouldn’t I be able to handle a 13 year old? Geez. (Give me a convicted murderer any day.)

Once bitten-twice shy they say. After Bubba‘s escapades, I am just not willing to take any chances with this remaining wild Indian. So, I have made up my mind (again), she’s going. That is, as long as she’s accepted by one of the two schools to which we‘ve applied.

In fact, she better pray that she gets accepted by the artsy school. This second one is a lot tougher. They make ’em do “chores” and chop firewood.

Imagine that.

 

Attitude is Everything!

If attitude is everything, let’s just say Ab fully displayed a poor one when we toured the private school on Thursday.

She looked the picture of cool indifference, with arms crossed in front of her, tight jawed with one word answers like, “I dunno.” to open-ended questions posed by the young Admissions Dean as she provided us an in-depth tour of the very prestigious school. A full scholarship was waiting in the wings for my Native American artist-child who was clearly told that they want students who want to be there. In fact, she said they recruit students from all over the world for their student population of just 300.

I explained that Ab was really shy in new social situations, which is true, however I am not sure that she fooled the Admissions Dean who has a Master’s Degree in Psychology. I came clean and told the Dean that Ab was going to go to boarding school whether it was there or somewhere else, so I’m sure that it was an extremely scary proposition to her, hence the attitude.

I also explained the two significant losses Ab experienced in the past year and a half, which affected her greatly. When asked about her grades, and her plans to apply herself, again Ab wasn’t convincing. I was becoming horrified, giving her the “evil eye” every chance I got, and I was sure that the whole process was a HUGE waste of everyone’s time. Especially mine.

My frustration was evident by the time we got back to the Admission’s office, where the Dean reviewed her transcripts of the past five years. I again resorted to begging for mercy by asking for her honest opinion as to Ab’s chances for acceptance there. Surprisingly, she told me they were low on 9th graders, and that while it was fully up to the admissions committee, she felt on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being “absolute” that Ab was about a 7 to 8 for admittance.

You could have knocked me over with a feather! And…the pessimist that I am makes me say, “I will believe it when I see it!” Certainly, I am not holding my breath. If anyone’s interested in placing a bet, please let me know. In the meantime I have requested another week off work, which was granted, to continue looking for other options.

Weekend Assignment #73

Our Blogfather, John Scalzi has given us another weekend assignment.......

This sunday marks the second anniversary of the official beginning of AOL Journals, and this year has seen some exciting changes, including the addition of the AIM Blogs to our community. To celebrate another year of AOL Journalers doing their thing (along with the other anniversary things planned by AOL-J members themselves), I thought bring the Weekend Assignment into play.

Weekend Assignment #73: From your own AOL Journal or AIM Blog, pick your own favorite entry from the last year (from 8/21/04 onward). Link to it in the comment thread below, so we can all see what it was. You can alternately, of course, create a new entry where you link to your favorite entry, but that seems a bit overly complicated. Linking directly to your favorite entry will be fine. If you want to include any thoughts on the entry in your comment, well, that would be great, too.

If you don't have an AIM Blog or AOL Journal, don't fret: Just pick your favorite entry from your own site in the same time frame and leave a link.

 

Here's mine.  I am not sure if it's my absolute favorite, but as I am approaching the first anniversary of my Papa's death...August 25th, it just means the most right now.  I think you'll see why. 

http://journals.aol.com/cw2smom/WearinMyHeartonMySleeve/entries/501

Who I Am-Black and White

They say you can tell a lot about a person by what is on their bookshelf.  What does this tell you about me?

Please link to the rest of the Round Robins to see what they express through their photos for this week's theme; Who Am I-Black and White.

1. Patrick  http://astopatwilloughby.blogspot.com

2. Alan   http://journals.aol.com/botdotdotdot/F-Stop

3. Renee  http://journals.aol.com/acyrlicstains/publish/  

4. Dawn  http://journals.aol.com/auburndawn/DawnsDrivel/  

5. Lisa  http://journals.aol.com/cw2smom/WearinMyHeartonMySleeve/  

6. Danielle  http://journals.aol.com/danielled1/Everybodyknows  

7. Deb  http://journals.aol.com/SassyDee50/SassysEYE  

8. Nancy  http://journals.aol.com/nhd106/Nancyluvspix/  

9. Aunt Nub  http://journals.aol.com/montaukny/FoolsParadise  

10. Phinney  http://journals.aol.com/geminiwilder/Paragon/  

11. Monica  http://journals.aol.com/photographybymon/Mamarazzi/  

12. Karen  http://journals.aol.com/mavarin/MusingsfromMavarin/

13. Carly http://journals.aol.com/ondinemonet/Ellipsis  

14. Derek http://journals.aol.com/deveil/PictureoftheDay  

15. Marie http://journals.aol.com/mariebm56/PhotographsMemories/entries/742  

16. Celeste http://journals.aol.com/csandhollow/Mydayandthoughts/  

17. Steven http://journals.aol.com/sepintx/sometimesphotoblog/  

18. Kat http://journals.aol.com/mskatdabrat/FromEveryAngle/  

19. Betty  http://journals.aol.com/rap4143/MyDayMyInterests/  

20. Becky http://journals.aol.com/ryanagi/Wherelifetakesyou  

21. Tess  http://journals.aol.com/tc01hm/FirstDigitalPhotos/  

22. Mary http://journals.aol.com/alphawoman1/Alphawomansblog/

23. Chris http://journals.aol.com/jeroldssis/ItsAllAboutMeIthink/entries/108

24. Robbie http://journals.aol.com/krobbie67/RobbiesRantsRaves/entries/2120
   

A little good news.........

Ab and I will tour the private school for the arts on Thursday!  They have a full-tuition scholarship available for a Native American student so we are keeping our fingers crossed!  What a blessing that would be to have this incredible opportunity all paid! 

Today and tomorrow we will take digital photos of her art work and photos to create a portfolio to take with us for the tour and interview!  That should be fun in itself!   Pictures later!   

Ok Cupid Test Results-Which Looney Toon Character are You?

Here are my online test results from Ok Cupid...

 

Porky Pig! You scored 28 Aggression, 100 Sophistication, and 42 Optimism! Non-aggressive, possibly shy, dapper, well-mannered, and likely far too hard on yourself, you are the prototypical conscientious friend who too often gets taken advantage of. Generally you don’t like to make a fuss and are more or less adverse to risk-taking. There are those out there who make entire careers out of manipulating people like you, and you should be very weary of them. Regardless, try taking a few risks and definitely stick up for yourself more. Maybe quit your safe but boring job, or ask that special person out. You are someone of high moral character and probably deserve far more out of life than you are settling with.


My test tracked 3 variables- How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 18% on Aggression You scored higher than 81% on Sophistication You scored higher than 27% on Optimism

Link: The Which Looney Tune Are You Test written by coolguy3000 on OkCupid Free Online Dating

School Days and Such......

Ab is a very gifted, artistic child.  Music, photography, poetry and art of any kind.  While music is her absolute passion, visual art is running a close second in her colorful world.   

Her 8th grade teacher was an amazing multi-media artist and she shared her love of art with her students.  She really sparked an interest in Abbie with lessons on Escher and Georgia O'Keefe.  It's a toss up on who is her favorite.  She loves geometric designs and impressionistic works, especially modern art. 

Right now she's outside trying to catch the perfect shot of lightning with her camera, while I am hoping she doesn't get a real life lesson in the electrifying properties of the universe. 

Recently, my favorite times with Ab have been watching her discover her world with her amazing abilities as a photographer.  Yesterday I framed her Tatiana photograph to show her just how good it looks and I believe I got my point across.  It looks fantastic in a matted frame!

So, in my internet research to find a boarding school for her, I found one a couple of hours from here that specializes in the arts, music, theatre and dance.  We sat together at the computer screen and read all about what this academy offers and checked out the slide shows of the incredible art the students have created.  Ab then became excited at the possibility of attending a school with such a unique environment for learning.  She said, "Mom, that's way better than the high school here!"  I've put in a call to see if we can take a tour this week while I am off work.   

It's shockingly expensive, but they do offer some financial assistance so I will see if we qualify.  I want to give her the opportunity to discover her talent, improve her self-esteem and make learning fun and exciting along with kids who are interested in the same things.  Otherwise, I am afraid the lack of structure, the large classes and drug activity in our public high school will be her downfall. 

I am not about to let that happen.     

 

 

  

Oh...Where's the Innocence?

In my previous entry I mentioned some issues with the girl child. 

Suffice it to say that there were some serious problems that resulted in the arrest of a 20 year old man for several felony counts. Oh the tangled web we weave with deceit.  She looks older than 13 and she chose to lie, so there have been many lives affected.  There are also arrests pending for other young adults (men) who were involved with some of Ab's 12 year old friends, who also look older than their tender age.  Still, none of them look like anything other than jail bait and that's what it got them.  Idiots, plain and simple.

It's been a horrifying week and I am not sure where to go from here.  I have to protect her from herself and her risky behavior.  The research I have done leads me to believe that she is at a very high risk for continuous and future behavioral issues and I have to change the collision course.  It's causing me to do some serious thinking about what's next in the form of schooling, friends and homelife. 

Sending her to public school here in this town is likely to cause her to seek the same path as Bubba.  Since her behavior is just becoming an issue, perhaps a challenging school with incredible programs and activities will help her to turn her life around.  My work schedule leaves her without the appropriate supervision needed at this stage of her life.  There are no full time private schools in this area for high school age students.    

I attended a retirement seminar last Thursday and I am looking at May 1st to begin my official retirement.  And, it can't get here fast enough. It's a possibility that I will be able to burn some vacation time for a few weeks prior to calling it quits.  If I were retired, it is a possibility that I could home school or drive her to a school down the mountain.  Right now that is impossible, so I am considering a boarding school for her freshman year.  Not the kind of boarding school exclusively for troubled teens, but those that are college prep who take underachieving kids.  Boarding school is terribly expensive, but I think I could manage it by really changing my spending habits, if they have monthly payment options.

Ab sat down with me and we looked at several schools that have outstanding arts and computer programs, one in Northern California and one in the southern part of the state.  I will be off work next week on "vacation" to get all this figured out.  Please, keep us in your prayers. 

 

Some Good News....

Trish recently joined Weight Watchers.  She lost 4 pounds the first week on the Flex Plan, which is basically eating anything you want, as long as you don't exceed your daily allotted points.  Well, there are a few extra points to play with throughout the week, but we're talking just about an extra day's worth that you can fudge on as needed.  The point value for just about every type of food known to man is listed in a handy, take along book.  There's even a book that contains the point values of a variety fast food and some decent restaurants like Applebees.  Applebees even has a Weight Watcher's menu, listing the points for their entrees! 

As I watched Trish eat a variety of foods all day long, and found out that she lost 4 pounds that first week, my interest was sparked.  So, last Thursday, I tagged along and joined up.  I just had to give it a try. 

I was tired of my low carb diet and had started to fall of the wagon.  I managed to keep off the 20 lbs that I lost while recuperating from my surgery, but I was beginning to feel deprived, especially after seeing what Trish was enjoying.  Fruit.  My gosh she was eating fruit.  A no-no on the low carb diet. 

Soooooo, I have been enjoying my 26 point daily allowance and I am eating like crazy.  Fruit.  McDonald's Happy Meal Cheeseburger and Fries, Cereal and Milk.  Snack Well Cookies.  Shrimp salad.  If this is dieting, it's my kind of diet.  All it takes is portion control and better food choices. 

And.....tonight was my first weigh-in and drum roll please...........

I LOST ONE and a HALF POUNDS! 

Pride or Problem

History repeating itself? 

It was a very short night.  I will try to sleep tonight.  If I can.  It's so scary.  Parenting is so tough.

A troubled teen.........

Sex?  Drugs?  Alcohol?  Sneaking out in the middle of the night?

"You can be your Mom's pride or problem." the Deputy told her last night. 

More later..................

17 years ago today...........

Seventeen years ago today..........8/8/88.........I quit smoking. 

Cold turkey.  Went to bed the night before and woke up to becoming a non-smoker!  It was tough.  One of the toughest things I have ever accomplished. But I did it! 

I loved smoking.  I bought in to the hype of the sophisticated woman style of cigarettes that they advertised....long, sexy Virginia Slims. 

Pepsi and cigarettes were my only vices in life back then.  ::Big Sigh::

I miss those cigarettes at times, but never enough to pick one up again.  I still drink the Pepsi, but it's Diet Pepsi now, and sometimes it's Caffeine Free Diet Pepsi to keep my heart from fluttering too much.  Damn, I live a boring life!  

Which reminds me of a joke my Papa used to tell.......

There was this old woman who stood on a corner every day, beating a drum and loudly testifying to the change in her life since she found the Lord....

She said, "I used to smoke....I used to drink....and I used to fornicate....NOW all I do is stand on this here corner and beat this damn drum!"  

Goodnight all!  :)

This and That.......

The above photos are of the kittens we are "fostering" until they are adopted by someone who contacts our local Humane Society, who will refer them to us.  Ab rescued four beautiful kittens who were abandoned by their stray mama, right down the street from us.  They appear to be 3-4 weeks old and are doing just fine so far.  One of the kittens was already adopted by one of our neighbors and Ab is just beggin' to keep the furry black one that she's named Wednesday.  I am partial to "Spot" who is named for his big black spot markings.  But, we are going to have to find homes for these precious little babies, because my 3 adult cats are very opposed to the little intruders in their space. It's hard to believe that my spoiled "kittens".....that I rescued from the prison, will be a year old on August 23rd.  How time flies! 

On a positive note, the protesters scheduled to make an appearance at the funeral of one of our local soldiers killed in Iraq, did not show up on Saturday after all.  I don't know what happened, but I am pleased that they didn't mar the somber event with such idiotic nonsense. 

The "church's" telephone number was posted on the web comment section of the Bakersfield Californian and I don't doubt that a few riled up, flag waving, American truck drivin' Republican Dust Bowl Okies made their opinions known at the church's headquarters.

Bakersfield is known nationally for it's assertive police department and a very capable Sheriff's department and they said they were prepared to make a very visable presence at the funeral. In fact, it's a possibility that the protestors heard about all of the stupid criminal-types that like to come up from Los Angeles and rob our banks, mistakenly thinking that Bakersfield is just a sleepy, cow town with a Barney Fife deputy.  Every one of 'em have been wrong.  DEAD wrong!  

So, instead, the soldier's family was greeted by a huge turnout by supportive friends and the public, who also lined the streets with flags and banners to honor him as the procession passed to the cemetery.  His young widow and parents must be extremely proud and touched by the outpouring of support.  May he rest in peace.  

Ab gets her very first pair of contacts tomorrow!  Since she would never wear her glasses, I am sure that she will find the world to be a much brighter place now that she can finally see!  Hey, it may even help her with her school work!  Good grades?  We'll see.  One thing that the doctor told her is that her vision is soooo bad, that she's going to have to wear glasses or contacts to drive.  Maybe that will be an incentive to wear them. 

Today is "Gotcha Day" for our family.  It's a day that we celebrate the day that Bubba and Ab became "officially adopted."  Ab was off doing things with her girlfriends, so we will have a belated celebration.  Bubba telephoned me the other night from Oklahoma, taking about possibly joining the Army.  Progress there. 

Additionally, today would be my late sister's 50th birthday. She died 11 years ago as a result of a rare form of Breast Cancer, called Inflammatory.  Kim was a wonderful, fun-loving and beautiful soul whose life was ended too soon.  I planned an entry to honor her today, but I didn't get it done.  So instead, Happy Birthday Peaches!  I love and miss you Sis! 

Well, I am off to get some much needed beauty sleep. 

Thinkin' of Kat and Pam!   

 

This Beats All!

This article from our local newspaper, The Bakersfield Californian, tells about a "Church Group" which plans an "anti-gay" protest at the upcoming military funeral of one of our young soldiers who was recently killed in Iraq.  Ironic that this man died serving our country which allows us the freedom so idiots like this can protest.

 

Group draws local backlash for plan to protest funeral

Widow of soldier killed in Iraq asks mourners to ignore church's message

By STEVEN MAYER, Californian staff writer
e-mail: smayer@bakersfield.com

Posted: Thursday August 4th, 2005, 10:30 PM
Last Updated: Friday August 5th, 2005, 5:00 PM

Members of Bakersfield's gay community said they will not mount a counter-protest on Saturday when members of a controversial Kansas church are expected to picket the funeral of a soldier killed in Iraq.

Army Pfc. Ramon Villatoro Jr., 19, of Bakersfield, died July 24 when a roadside bomb detonated near his vehicle. Three other U.S. soldiers also died in the blast.

"We think the soldier should have a dignified funeral," local gay activist Whitney Douglas-Weddell said Thursday. "It's bad enough that he was killed. Now the family has to put up with this hate group showing up."

Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, which operates two anti-gay Web sites, claims America is being punished by God for its tolerance of homosexuality, resulting in the deaths of soldiers from roadside bombs.

Members of the church have been demonstrating at soldiers' funerals across the country. They have carried signs that read, "God Hates America," and "Fags are worthy of death."

Bakersfield police said they will have a visible presence at the funeral.

Amanda Villatoro, Villatoro's pregnant widow, has invited the public to attend the 9 a.m. Mass at Our Lady of Guadalupe Church on East California Avenue. She asked mourners to pay no attention to the protesters, no matter how hateful their message.

In an interview broadcast Thursday afternoon on the "Ralph Bailey Show" on News/Talk 1560 KNZR, Westboro pastor Fred Phelps openly celebrated the deaths of American soldiers serving in Iraq.

"You're a happy man today. Four more Americans died and you're a happy man. You're pleased about that," Bailey said to Phelps.

"Absolutely, and you ought to be," Phelps said. "Look, the veracity of God's involved here. He hasn't done near the damage to this nation that he ought to do and that he will do. This nation's got to repent."

But ministers and clergy from mainstream denominations condemned Phelps' message Thursday.

The Rev. Craig Harrison, pastor of St. Francis Church in Bakersfield, a Catholic congregation, compared Phelps' selective use of Scripture to Charles Manson's use of the Bible to support murder.

"What they are professing has nothing to do with Christ's faith," Harrison said of the Kansas church.

Thomas Calderon, a Vietnam combat veteran and a member of Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 97, said he's disgusted by Westboro's plans to demonstrate at the funeral.

"I think this gentleman, this soldier was doing what he was told. That's what soldiers do, right or wrong," Calderon said. "These bigots are totally irresponsible and ignorant of what this country stands for.

"It hurts me that a young mother has to be subjected to this at her own husband's funeral," he said.

"If these people were in the military, they would be committing treason. These are statements against humanity."

Westboro Baptist Church teachings

The Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kan., makes its position clear on its Web site. The church preaches that God is intentionally killing American soldiers in Iraq because America is too tolerant of gays.

Here are some of the church's teachings in its own words:

• "God has become America's terrorist."

• "Thank God for the bombing of London's subway."

• "Thank God for IEDs (improvised explosive devices, also known as roadside bombs)."

• The Web site twists the name of Our Lady of Guadalupe Church, calling it "Our Lady of Sodom Church."

Gays are not the only Americans vilified by the Kansas church. Jews, Catholics, Episcopalians, blacks and other groups also are targeted.

SOURCES: godhatesfags.com (the Web site for Westboro Baptist Church) and the Anti-Defamation League

From the commentary section asking for reader's opinions:

Protest at a military funeral?

Military funerals such as the one Saturday for Army Pfc. Ramon Villartoro Jr., 19, of Bakersfield, who was killed July 24 in Iraq, are a time to grieve, honor and remember a man who gave his life in the service of our country.

But the controversial Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas, thinks Villartoro's funeral is a time for them to protest the bombing of their own church in 1995 which in its view is a terrorist attempt to stop its anti-gay preaching.

Westboro, which is led by minister Fred Phelps, a disbarred attorney, claims 20,000 such protests in the last decade as a way to preach its main philosophies as espoused on its websites, godhatesfags.com and godhatesamerica.com

Villatoro's 19-year-old pregnant widow, Amanda, advises that people should not pay the least attention to this out-of-towner protest. (Amanda Villatoro is one smart lady!) 

Is it any surprise that Fred Phelps is a disbarred attorney?  What a rotten excuse for a human being.