And The Boy Said...

So, the 17 year old boy comes to me and says, "Ma, can me and my friend go to a motocross track 4 hours away from home, race ATV's all day and then spend the night at a camp ground in the woods?" I carefully thought about it for an entire 4 seconds and said, "No." For the next 3 days he followed me around the house asking me why I was so mean? I told him I used to be nice, I only got mean after I had kids. He tried every trick under the sun to make me and my husband feel guilty for not letting him go. This is the same boy that tried to swim in the ocean in Florida a week ago while there were black flags posted because of a tropical storm off the coast. This the same boy who, being very allergic to blueberries, asked if he could eat one to see what would happen. This is the same boy who wanted to put a motor on his skate board. And this is the same mom who said, "No. No. No." I promised him we would do something really fun instead. The boy asked, "Ma, what are we doing this weekend instead of me going to a really cool motocross race track and racing ATV's for 2 days?" I said, in my best-ever cheery voice, "Oh, boy, we are going to church on Saturday night with the puppy and on Sunday, you're just going to love this, we're all going to go apple picking!" What do you think the boy said? . . .

Hungry Pup

Don't let those puppy dog eyes fool you. This sweet, innocent puppy was guilty . . .
of being hungry for the word of God.
"Your words were found, and I ate them,
And Your word was to me the joy and rejoicing of my heart;
For I am called by Your name, O LORD God of hosts." Jeremiah 15:16
Yep, this pup ate the word. He ate the front and back cover of my Bible, the concordance, a few maps, some essays and a chunk of Genesis. So, I fashioned a new cover using a pizza box and some duct tape. What do you think?



The women at my new job were very impressed. One of them said to me, "Oh, how MacGyver of you!"

Yay me.

Just Sad

Sometimes life is good and sometimes not. It's always hard to see times come to an end. Babies grow into toddlers, who grow into children, who grow into youngsters, who grow into adults. Vacations end, visitors leave, puppies become dogs, kids move away. Families feud, make up and feud again. What is living, dies. What's the point? I think the point is to live well while the living is good. My dear friend is at the end of her life and it saddens my heart. There are still too many things we have to do together. But, during good times and bad, we found a way to laugh. We shared stories and feelings and food and drink. We shared good health and bad health. We shared secrets and prayers and faith and love and joy. We have encouraged each other with God's word. We have agonized over our children, our country and world affairs. We armored up and stripped down. We licked our wounds and stood back up. We are battle scarred. We have seen the enemy but, we have found victory on our knees. It's easier to stand after you've been on your knees. When things seem impossible we remind each other of God's promises and say, "It's a season." There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: . . . Ecclesiastes 3:1 We have built memories, relationships and bridges. She loves me and I her. She'll go where God calls her, as we all will someday, the only difference is, she does with true peace. Her favorite verse: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27 I am not afraid my friend, just sad...

"I Ain't Letting No Chinese Dude Hold My Hand" - Conclusion

..."Sorry, Nancy, I don't go into back rooms and disrobe my feet for anybody. It's either out in the open or not at all," I said while digging my tired, un-pampered heels into the ground. "Okay, my chicken little friend, this is my treat to you. We'll do it your way," she replied. I whispered, "Stop calling me chicken little, they're vegetarians." Fast forward 10 minutes: we are now laying back in big cushy chairs, in the front of the parlor, where the receptionist answers the phones and folks come in to get their vegetarian dumplings and herbal teas. Nancy has her head back, is half asleep with her eyes closed and is moaning softly. I had my head back, but with only one eye closed. I kept sweeping the parlor, Nancy, the 2 little Chinese men, the receptionist and the variety of people coming and going with the open eye (just call me Jack Bauer). After 15 minutes, I was bored, so I started talking to Nancy. "Hey, Nance, at the Hershey Park Spa they dip your feet in warm chocolate. I think they dip your hands in warm chocolate too." She said, "Oh, have you been there?" I laughed, "Nancy, have I ever been to any spa??!!" We laughed and talked for the next 45 minutes. It was delightful, after all was said and done. I probably won't ever do something like that again, but I'm happy for the experience. When I came home, my husband asked, "So, how was it?" "Well," I replied, "I didn't let the Chinaman hold my hand." I expected him to question me, but instead, he gave me a peck on the cheek, a pat on the back and said, "That's my girl."

"I Ain't Letting No Chinese Dude Hold My Hand" - Part II

..."I don't know, Nancy...I'm not sure about a reflexology appointment," I said. "Come on friend. It's my treat, it'll be fun," she said. Reluctantly, I agreed to go. We drove to a little whole in the wall, in the next state. We walked in through hanging beads. All I could think was, "How many bodies have passed through these beads?" while looking for my hand sanitizer. This place specializes in messages, vegetarian dumplings (of all things) and Chinese herbs and teas. They also had a huge purple room set aside as a shrine to Buddha (who, by the way, does not have a healthy body image, just saying). Now I am thinking, "What have I gotten myself into!" 2 little Chinese men came out of the back and ask if we want our hands done too. I turned to Nancy and said, "I ain't letting no Chinese dude hold my hand. I only let my husband hold my hand." Nancy laughed. "You're silly," she said to me. To the Chinese men, she said, "Only the feet for my friend." Then, they directed us through more hanging beads (ewww) to the back and told us to go inside separate rooms. "Nuh-uh! I ain't going into a back room with anybody!" Nancy laughed. "You're silly," she said to me. To the Chinese men, she said, "My friend is chicken little." I'm thinking at this point, "Call me whatever you want, but I am putting my un-messaged foot down!" To be continued . . .

"I Ain't Letting No Chinese Dude Hold My Hand" - Part I

A few years ago my daughters decided I was underprivileged because I never had a pedicure. They saved their money and said, "Mother, because you have been the best mother ever, in fact, a mother like no other, (okay, literary license) we have saved our money and are sending you for a pedicure." I was thrilled. Finally, someone else to do my little piggies that spent endless hours running to and from the market. I planned on a meal out at the brick oven Italian restaurant, all by myself, before my pedicure. No one to interrupt my thoughts, no one to serve, no disputes to settle amongst the children - just me, daydreaming, praying, eating a meal without rushing. Sounds lovely, right? Well, it didn't exactly turn out that way. 3 people saw me by myself and wanted to sit with me. 2 actually sat down and ordered drinks before I politely told them to scram. Then, I had to wait 15 minutes for my pedicure "appointment". The water in the tub was so hot I immediately got flushed and had a hot flash. It didn't help that the woman next to me had gross toe fungus or that the sweet Asian women keep on speaking to each other, looking at me and giggling. The nail polish I picked was almost empty, but they used it anyway. 7 toes into my first-ever pedicure the polish ran out and they had to use another bottle of polish that didn't exactly match. Not the professional look I was going for (sheesh, I could have done that). So, when my dear friend called me this week and offered to take me for a reflexology appointment, her treat (because "you are a friend like no other" - she really did say that), I was skeptical . . .

Decision Well Made

"Why aren't you blogging?" many folks asked. My answer has been, "I'm too busy." That's not entirely true. The real reason is that I was not in a great place. Lord knows I like to embellish the truth, or tell the truth in a funny way. I write the truth as I see it, through my lense, which is usually silly (y'all know I can't make this stuff up, right?). It was hard for me to write this summer because we had some heavy things on our minds. I know my friends love me during every season, but they enjoy me more during the good seasons and I like to be a joy to others. So, I didn't write because I wasn't seeing the joy or the silliness. We had decisions to make regarding the boy's final year of high school. He had a great year at the military school and they wanted him back (they offered him scholarships and leadership positions). But the bottom line was he didn't want to be away from home. What was best? Do we send him somewhere we know he'll succeed but would be unhappy OR do we let him stay here and hope and pray he makes good choices? Clean, quiet, empty room at the end of the hall OR messy, noisy, occupied room at the end of the hall? Life up OR life up-side-down? Well, I'd tell you about it, but the boy wants to know if I made his lunch yet, if his pants are dry and if I can pick him up after baseball practice tomorrow. Decision well made.

Here! And here, oh, and here...

My last post I asked, "Where was I anyway?"
Well, I was here...

and here...

and here...

and here... (puppy won "Best of Show")

and finally, here...

and now, I am here. . . sitting in front of the blue glow from my computer screen, losing my tan.

Hurricane Irene Miracle

Hurricane Irene hit our little burg in New Jersey. The exterior of our house was spared almost completely. A few tree branches sprinkled our property. One branch was rather large, but it did not damage a single thing. The trees needed pruning anyways and so, Irene saved me from hiring someone to do it. Leaves flew everywhere, but fortunately for us, leaves don't hurt anything. Somehow, though, Irene made her evil way into the boy's room. As you can see, it caused quite a whirlwind. Miraculously, the boy was unharmed. In fact, he slept right through it. The boy has assured me he'll get right on the clean up.

I hope you are all well (if you still bother to check my blog), and I have missed you dearly. Where was I anyway? Be blessed dear ones!

Working 9 to 5, Not ... continued

... so, with this list of demands, I went to the Lord. "God, I need a job," I said. "It has to be something fun, something that won't interfere with the raising of my teens or working for my husband, and something using my specific gifts and talents." God said, "Is that all?" I said, "No, I want lots of money, too." God said, "Don't push it." I said, "Fine... but not until September, I'm too busy with the kids and guests. I want to be able to enjoy my family and provide healthy and delicious meals for them. I want afternoons free to cook. I want to linger at the dinner table long after meals are over. What I'm saying, Lord, is the only available time would be Sunday evenings." So, God went right to work. In a matter of 6 minutes, I was hired to work Sunday evenings, 4 pm to midnight until the beginning of October. In October, my position and hours will change. I can pick my hours (15 - 25 hours per week) anytime Monday - Saturday. God saw fit to have me minister to women suffering from serious addictions. Currently, (I did my first shift yesterday) I am a monitor on Sunday evenings to 9 delightful women living in a Christian rehab facility. In October, I will be their Spiritual Counselor. I would have never taken the job, feeling wholly inadequate, if God hadn't provided everything I asked for. I am so grateful and so in awe of our God. HE provided all that I asked. The only thing I would change? I would have asked God for a new wardrobe, too : )

Working 9 to 5, Not

I have worked for my husband at our home law office for 23 years. It's been the absolute best situation I could have ever dreamed of. When the kids were little I hired a sweet old lady (may she rest in peace) to come to our house to watch the kids while I worked in the office. I took frequent breaks, ate lunch with my children and was there for every major (and minor) scrape and scrap. I was so efficient that when them new fangled computers came out, we streamlined the office work to a minimal. I was able to homeschool the kids and run the office in record time. We deemed my husband the Dean of our little Academy of Academic Excellence and as such, he came to all homeshcool trips and ceremonies. He even got to drive the van! How blessed was I? But, times are a changing. Work is slow, the kids are older, the dryer died, the van needs upgrading, college/private schools are expensive... so I told my husband, "I'm getting a job." He said, "You have a job, I still need you (awww) and there are too many people living here right now. I can't cook for them. I couldn't do what you do. Don't leave me," (literary license). So, I began to pray about it. I asked God to provide me with the absolute best situation I could dream of. I said, "God, I need a job. It has to be something fun, something that would not interfere with the raising of my teens or working for my husband, and something using my specific gifts and talents." God said, "Is that all?" I said, "No, I want lots of money, too." God said, "Don't push it." I said, "Fine..." (Is it a sin to roll your eyes at God?) ...to be continued...

Reap What You Sow

You reap what you sow. Who can argue with that? One red pepper and two feeble tomatoes is what I have sown from my community garden plot. I have gone to water the plot three times...hmmmm...and produced three fruit. Not much effort, not much harvest.


However, my black-eyed susan's, porch peppers, basil and petunia's are doing well, don't you think?

I step out my front door and water my plants and they respond by growing well.

The problem, as I see it, is that we sow well when the sowing is convenient or "fun". Raising babies was fun, ... teenagers... not so much. But, I must "tend" to raising them as I would anything else that I want to reap a harvest from. I did not expect to reap a huge harvest of tomatoes from two feeble plants that I only watered three times. (I'm sure my kids would be thrilled to know I am comparing them to tomatoes, but that's how my brain works.) Tending to teenagers is a full-time job. Just feeding them dinner is a challenge. The story of Jesus feeding 5,000+ is only amazing to me because Jesus still had energy to feed the souls of His people after feeding their stomachs. After food shopping, cooking and cleaning, I don't have much energy left. I have a friend who is very sick, so her teenage daughter moved in with us. That makes 3 teenagers and 3 adults to feed and tend to. Every night of the week someone invites someone for dinner. Two nights last week we had 9 for dinner and one night we had 30 (the baseball team). I'm not complaining, in fact, I love having people here. That's the part of sowing I don't mind. It's the deeper stuff that gets me tangled up, the feeding of souls. I want to produce a garden with a huge harvest. Pray for me, that the raising of those in my home will be more "fun" and thus easier to tend to. I wish my kids were like my basil, when I want it to continue to grow and produce a bigger harvest, I just pinch off their heads...

More Stupid Things

. . . After my workout and a few unnecessary comments under my breath about bug spray not keeping away all types of pests, I headed home to shower. But not before a gal at the gym offered to make a sample shake for folks to try. They use fresh fruits, vitamins and protein powder. She asked me what kind to make. I said, "How about the Pina Colada?" After she made the shake, she offered me a sample. I said, "Oh, no thanks, I'm allergic to pineapple." Stupid, right? Then I headed out to meet some friends. One friend is the mother of two 7 year old girls. One girl is rather dramatic. My friend shared that her daughter says to her, "Mom, you're ruining my life." My friend asked, with great concern, looking for pearls of wisdom from the "mature" mother of 3, "What do I say to her when she says that to me?" Stupidly I replied, "Tell her she ain't seen nothing yet!" Not very helpful on my part, in fact, a stupid and useless comment. After a moment of thoughtful consideration, my friend, the dear gal that she is, burst out laughing. She takes me so seriously and values everything I say. She thinks I have it all together. Poor thing. . . I just pray that my stupidity never outweighs my ability to laugh at myself.

Stupid Things

Like many people, I keep a supply of items in my car for emergencies. Pain reliever, water, a flashlight, a blanket, an umbrella, bug spray and, of course, hairspray. You never know when you're going to have a bad hair day, right? Yesterday was just that, a bad hair day. On my way to the gym I noticed my hair was a mess (don't judge me). I reached over and grabbed the familiar green bottle and sprayed my hair in perfect place. My eyes began to tear so I pulled into the parking lot at the gym and reached over and grabbed the saline (another emergency item). I rinsed my eyes. When my vision returned I saw that I had sprayed bug spray on my hair! By the way, bug spray holds your hair into place just as well as hairspray, though I would not recommend this unless it is a true hair emergency. Earlier that day I was walking with my husband and the puppy. We met, formally for the first time, neighbors that have lived on our block for 2 years (again, don't judge me). The wife is pregnant. She was refinishing a bed frame and not having a good time at it. I told her to use her "pregnancy card." Then, because that wasn't dumb enough, I complained about how the puppy wanted me to carry him home because he was tired. I said, "Sheesh, he's the one with four legs, I only have two" . . . to be continued. . .

The Cell

Do you know why we call cell phones cell phones? It's because having a cell phone is like carrying around your own personal prison cell. You can't ever escape the bounds of those who want to know where you are and what you are doing. And it's not bad enough that people can call you, they can also text you. "Y didnt u pick up when i called? lol" Seriously? I text back, "What's so funny? Y r u always lol?" And do you know what? People answer me with, "lol!" only this time with an exclamation point! Give me a little solitary confinement please. Lock me in my room with no communication devices for a week. Talk to me through the door. Or better yet, write me a letter. Wouldn't it be nice to get an old fashioned letter in the mail instead of just bills or an advertisement? Don't get me wrong. I love technology as much as the next guy, I just think we go too far with it. I don't think we ever get enough time to be alone with our own thoughts. I would make this post longer, but the warden is calling . . . I mean, the cell phone is ringing . . .

Laugh With Your Family, Not At Them

I am very sad after reading some excerpts from a newly published book. It's written by a wife and mother of three. They all live a healthy and relatively wealthy existence. What made me so sad was that the whole book was one long whine about her family. She makes fun of them on every page, in a mocking manner. I want to take this opportunity to apologize for the complaining I have done over the years about my family. I never want to sound like this woman does. I think my life is full of humor because of my family and I hope that what I share with you all is taken at face value. I love my family; my husband and my children mean the world to me. Without them I would be empty. For every dish I clean, for every sticky counter I wipe, for every hair I pull out of the drain, for every roll of toilet paper I must replace, for every dinner I cook, for every vacuum cleaner bag I change, for every smudged window I wipe, for every toilet I clean, for every article of clothing I don't get to buy so I can buy something for my children, for every load of laundry I do (actually hubby does laundry- boy, do I love that man), for every bed I change, for every cent I spend on food, for every finger print I clean off my walls (yes, I do wash my walls), for every greasy phone I pick up after the kids. . . I thank my dear Lord. I thank Him for entrusting me with these precious jewels (diamonds in the rough as they may be). I thank Him for the comedy that is this messy life of mine and pray I always have someone to pick up, clean up after, cook for and most importantly, laugh with.

Persistent Petunia

Despite my perpetual neglect, these pretty pink petunia's were persistent in producing a pulchritudinous plant.

Since You Asked, Parsley

Isn't It Great?

Ask me how I am . . . Okay, my back hurts from working in my strawberry patch for 2 hours. My neck hurts from sleeping in a funny position for 4 hours. My hand hurts from the blister I got from the wooden shovel I used in the garden. My feet hurt from walking 2 plus miles at the gym. My stomach hurts from laughing so hard while I walked with a friend. My allergies are bugging me from the new puppy. And my brain hurts from working on some children's stories I hope to get published. How am I? I am great!! I love my strawberries, they are sweet and bright and do not talk back to me. I talked to them for 2 hours and they agreed with everything I said. I slept for 4 hours in a row, that's wonderful for a chronic insomniac. My wooden shovel was a birthday gift from my family a few years ago and I smile whenever I use it. I love to walk and I love to laugh, combined it's a big ole' endorphin party. The new puppy is a joy and hours of fun a day. And finally, pain has long been known as an inspiration for writing, so bring it on.

ouch ... ouch ... ouch ... smile ... smile ... smile ... ouch ... ouch ... ouch ... smile ... smile ... smile ...

A Lovely View

This is my kitchen window. I have a lovely assortment of items on a pretty glass shelf that sits above my kitchen sink. In the center is a vase filled with sea shells, sand dollars and beach pebbles. I smile every time I do the dishes for the memories I have from vacations gone by with my family. This vase has items from two coasts and four different beaches.


Today, as I stood at my kitchen sink, doing the dishes, smiling as I often do; I looked closely at the vase and my smile disappeared. That's just lovely, I said to myself. . .




. . . a closer look revealed a stupid, stinkin' stink bug at the bottom of the vase. So, I did just what you would expect a neat freak like me would do. I turned the vase half way around so I couldn't see the bug. Now, he (the stink bug) and me, both have a lovely view.