Storming the Gates of Heaven

A good friend of mine used this expression last week in regards to the barrage of prayers she's been sending to the Lord. How descriptive those five words are! Sincere. Focused. Energized. Determined. BOLD.

I've been sending my own onslaught over the last three months. Asking for guidance. Asking for wisdom. Asking for blessings. Asking for patience. (That last one being the hardest. Yes, definitely, the hardest.)

Keep this dynamic phrase in mind. Grab on to it with both hands. Incorporate it into your daily life. Always remain positive. Never give in to doubt. Keep your resolve strong and the requests flowing.

Simply Believe. For if you do your confidence will not fail and your faith will blossom tenfold.

Expiration Dates

I went through our medicine cabinet checking expiration dates weeding out the old stuff. I do this periodically. Do you? There's the prerequisite Tylenol and Advil consistently available but I don't buy a lot of over-the-counter varieties until specific types are needed -- cough medicine, cough drops and extra-strength sinus pills for colds.....or antihistimines for fall/spring allergy seasons. That kind of thing. So as a result I only had to pitch two items.

As I was reading labels I started to think about other areas in my life that have encountered finite 'life spans', gone from vibrant and vital to colorless with no pulse. A few friendships came to mind. Those that died were mostly toxic and their death a blessing for my life. A couple of personal dreams faded out over the years. I don't give up easily so those were probably the hardest to let go. Store coupons (bet you didn't see this one coming!!). The ones I really wanted to take advantage of and the dates came and went...UGH. Food. You think you'll use that soup or that package of Stove Top Stuffing with no problem but it never quite sounds good enough when you're whipping up dinner so it continues to sit on the pantry shelf. Gift certificates. Don't you hate that when it happens?!#*! Especially when the object of the free offer is a wonderful restaurant or store, offering some of your favorite things.

I guess expiration dates have different meanings depending on the context. They are good when their information protects the health of your family, sad when you have to realize there's no hope in certain situations, and irritating when something is misplaced or forgotten.

Lives, relationships, goals that are colorful and important and interesting and challenging, that bring laughter and learning and uniqueness and depth never lose their flavor or go out-of-date whether you interact with those elements daily or hardly ever. Doesn't matter. Those extra-special threads that run through your life's tapestry exclusively depicting your story will never become useless. Expendable. The truly important will never fade. And that kind of insurance is the very best kind, don't you agree?

The Child is Growing Up

I remember saying multiple times, "I don't want to be mature. I don't want to have to think like a grown up." You have to understand I had beautiful manners and I knew very well what was expected of me...and I delivered as expected, I might add. But there are days where you just want to be carefree and throw convention aside. Who makes up the rules anyway?

Our child is now at that stage where much is demanded of him now. Job interviews. Behavior befitting a student networking with professors and other professionals. Parental expectations.

My husband and I looked wide-eyed at each other several times lately when the perverbial lightbulb has definitely glowed ever so brightly. Oh, my! 'He is growing up!' our silent communication hums between the two of us. YYYAAAHHHOOOO!!

All the hours, the sweat, the worry, the stress, the hope, the lectures, the examples, the mentoring, the village, the family, the love, the hugs, the praise, the church, the yelling, the clapping, the trust, the prayers are embedded in a handsome, fun, big-hearted, well-schooled young gentleman.

And his parents are mighty glad he's theirs.

Wedding Rings

I'm asked the proper protocol for wearing wedding and engagement rings often.

The bridal guides and etiquette books will tell you the wedding ring should be 'closest to your heart'. Thus during the ceremony you should slip your engagement ring onto your right hand and your groom will slide the wedding ring on your now bare left at the appropriate moment.

This tradition perhaps (I really have no clue) started when only bands were exchanged.

I, for one, have followed my own perspective. When my boyfriend asked me to marry him and presented me with his engagement ring, I was a-b-s-o-l-u-t-e-l-y thrilled. Not only was he telling me he loved me but he was pledging to spend his life with me. That is such a monumental declaration. I accepted his proposal and proudly wore the symbol of his promise.

During the exchange of vows I bowed to convention and had a bare ring finger on my left hand. But after we left the sanctuary, I re-arranged my rings by stacking my engagement ring THEN wedding ring on my hand. It felt good to wear the two pieces in the order in which they were given. The wedding ring sealed our new status as a husband and wife, topping the first ring which was his initial gift.

It's interesting to watch the ladies faces as we talk about it. Some reflect surprise, some doubt and others agreement. I'll keep spreading my theory -- the converts will come!

Freedom to Vote

I loved going to the polls yesterday. I voted after work and when I got there all of the machines (about 12) were busy. Two of my friends were working at the precinct sign-in desk. One told me there had been at least an 80% turn-out. I was thrilled at that impressive figure. Being an active participant during that long day so intrinsic to our American tradition would definitely give you an interesting perspective.

The high school in our community has the entire senior class volunteer as poll workers fulfilling a requirement of their class curriculum. Great hands-on opportunity. Brings the democratic concept to life. Should give them a new sense of appreciation for this liberty they have been given.

Say a daily prayer that our elected officials heed the Lord's voice. There is a plan filled with wisdom and guidance -- His plan. It does exist. All one has to do is listen which, in concept, is so simple. Yet we humans have a real problem with that listening 'thing', don't we??

Childrens Books -- How My Lifelong Passion Began

Ever since second grade, books have been my constant companions. I've read hundreds and hundreds over my lifetime...and hopefully that will change to thousands and thousands before I'm through.

Paddington's adventures. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's lessons. Baba Yaga's legend. The beginning of a life-long passion. One I've shared with my son. One he now claims as his own....

So much more than a hobby. More like an appendage. If ever cut off my life would be missing an integral part of 'me'. I spend time between the covers each and every day. Expanding horizons. Immersed in a good romance. Listening to a witty discussion. Relaxing. Dreaming. Learning.

Need to discover a good book with a small one in your life? Try Tuesday by David Wiesner or Ship of Dreams by Dean Morrissey. Snuggle close in a chair. Luxuriate in your precious time together. Count your blessings -- times like these are treasures, seeds for wonderful life-long memories.

If you need some wonderful titles, just let me know. I would be happy to share a few. But be warned! Once you start you won't be able to stop. You will get hooked. But no worries -- the only regret you'll have is you'll wish you started sooner!

Innocence

Thursday night was Trick or Treat night in our community. I look forward to it every year. The little ones are so darling. They cry "TRICK OR TREAT" and hold their candy bags out proudly. They peer into my basket to see what is about to be added to their collection. Shouting 'Thank You!!" they rush to show their parents what they received before scampering off to the next house.

This year I had several who wanted to talk. They explained their costumes, why they picked them, what their favorite candies are, how their school costume parade went. I listened to their animated tales, happy they felt like sharing with me. What a hoot!

There were a few I didn't recognize. Some are from depressed or unsafe areas of the city. I welcome the children knowing their parents have made a wonderful choice. We have plenty to share and those brilliant smiles and bright eyes deserve to celebrate a fun American tradition without worry.

To be so animated. Bubbly. Living in the moment. Safe with neighbors who care. Protected by parents who love them. As it should be...on Beggers' Night and the other 364 of the year.

Philip W Smith B&B: Graceful, Preserved Elegance

You all know I like to pass on compliments and positive reviews. I want to introduce you to Chris and Jill Nelson, proprietors of two gorgeous Victorian homes on Main Street in Richmond, Indiana. Within two'ish hours due west you will find yourself transported to fabulous woodwork, incredible jewel-tone stained glass windows, chandeliers, unique tiled fireplaces and claw-footed bathtubs. ( Check out their website: www.pwsmithbnb.com)

We have stayed twice with them. Two years ago we stayed at the Smith house. Earlier this month we stayed at the Martha E. Parry home. Very easy to find and just two blocks separates them. The breakfasts are delicious and there's always a yummy evening snack such as a homemade berry pie or chocolate dessert. (They are respectful to their guests' dietary needs.)

Chris and Jill are a young couple who are extremely involved in the preservation of the homes in the historic district where these are located. In fact, they have just purchased two more homes to renovate directly across the street. I would love for you to experience their gracious hospitality. A drive over during the fall, viewing the beautiful leaves along the way, sets the tone for a relaxing weekend. Enjoy!

Winterizing: More Than I Bargained For

For those that know me well know I love my flower beds that both surround the house and are free-standing. Over the twenty-some years we have been in this house I have switched from mostly annuals to a collection of perennials I'm proud of. From the practical (day lilies and sedums) to the unique (my Toad Lily is blooming now -- it is way cool. Look it up. Blooms in later fall and every stem is lined with a row of orchid-looking blooms. Amazing!).

Part of the annual cycle of care is getting the beds ready for the cold season. And this year I decided to do my sedum-oriental grass-hosta cut-back earlier than usual. By two weeks at least. Why? Because every other year I have waited until frost when by that time the grasses have shot up their feathery plumes and then turned to stiff, hard-to-cut straw-like stuff and the hollow stems of the sedum turn to bamboo'ish instruments of torture.

After 2 1/2 hours I was completely finished. So much easier. So much quicker. (I even used the electric hedge trimmers on the grass for the first time -- I went flyin' thru those wide stands! Woo-Hoo!!) How smart was I..... till I looked at my arms the following morning after I arrived at work. I felt this little twinge of some sort. I pulled up my left sleeve then my right to find both my forearms from my wrists to my elbows covered (let me repeat that...covered) with narrow yet long scabbed-over lacerations. I looked like I had been whipped repeatedly by some nasty uber-thin lash. I was so embarrassed!! I couldn't roll those cuffs down fast enough!!

So all of you neophyte gardeners out there -- LFME (learn from my experience): Yes, it makes perfect sense to be ahead of the calendar to prevent blisters and cut down on time...and Yes, cutting while still green makes it easier to shove those pliable stems into the yard trash bags....but No, do not allow bare arms to come in contact with those itty-bitty, teeny-weeny extremely sharp serrated edges of the grass blades while you do the stuffing. They're nasty, mean, adhere to "take no prisoners" warfare and show absolutely no favoritism. None whatsoever. Really. No joke. Nada. (ouch)

Evans Carpet Junkyard

How did we find them? We were at Lowe's looking at carpet samples and the salesman told us for the project we were attempting to do, it would be more feasible as well as economical for us to "go to the junkyard". Honestly the name was not at all appealing whatsoever. But I decided to go over and put my 'toe in the water' to check out the company and = wow = I bought a fabulous piece of Karastan and had it bound for a bedroom that very first trip. So don't let their name put you off. It's like opening a Russell Stover Chocolate box to find a Godiva assortment. Trust me. You will be thrilled with this discovery!

Here's the scoop: It is a family-owned and operated business since 1956. Located on Hague Ave, just south of Fisher Rd, there is a warehouse filled with a plethora of flooring choices! Not only can you order anything you like but you can walk around the building finding fabulous buys on buy-outs, over-runs and discontinued shags, berbers, solids, patterns, tone-on-tones, wool, nylon, blends. Perfect for residential and commercial settings. It is like a treasure hunt every time you go because the selection changes with sold items being removed and new items arriving all the time. Need your choice installed? Can do! Removal of that old worn carpet can be arranged as well.

Do you want to show off your hardwoods? They will bind your choice in whatever size or shape you need. (We wanted an L-shape for a foyer and hall combination and they did it beautifully.) Also on hand are a selection of larger oriental style rugs. I fell in love with one and we have placed that over the basement carpet where a new table and chairs will sit. The colors blend so perfectly together!

The Evans family has now re-carpeted every room but one in our home. And I have a feeling that will happen in the very near future. Take the time to go and have a peek. You'll be doing yourself a favor.

Nevers in My Life

I find the word 'never' to be a dangerous one. I rarely use it because of it's broad reaching ramifications. Just one time, one choice, one slip erases the right to use it. But for now, I can honestly claim this list still to be in the 'N' column of my life.

Never had an affair. (32 years and still in love...)

Never did drugs.

Never had a major operation. (I don't think tonsil extraction counts.)

Never broke a bone.

Never been to Russia, Italy, Egypt or Scotland.

Never passed out.

Never worn a cast.

Never lived out-of-state.

A few I hope to change. Most I hope never do.

Surprises

Some are expected on special occasions.

Some cause fear from unexpected news.

Some are shocking especially when they concern friends or family.

Some inspire conversations that never would have happened.

Some nudge us toward our dreams.

Some strengthen our faith.

Some make us reach out to others for all the right reasons.

Some produce tears.

Some appear on our front porch left by an unknown hand.

Some give birth to life-changing moments.

Some offer courage in the darkest moments of our lives.

Some are forgotten....

... and some stay with us forever.

Stockport Mill Inn -- Best Kept Secret

If you ever need a really, really quiet retreat away from phones, people, the office, then this is THE place. Tucked away south of Zanesville in Morgan county, this renovated mill on the banks of the Muskingham River will perfectly fulfill your desperate desire for peace. Located on the left side of the bridge as you enter the village of Stockport, this historic landmark will serve up a slice of pure Americana. (And I do mean village -- a cluster of homes where curbs are at a minimum, yards are lovingly tended, and the baseball diamond serves as the neighborhood gathering spot.) I had ripped out a review of the mill from OHIO magazine some years back and stashed it in my travel file. When we needed a place to stay this summer as we meandered our way toward PA, I rummaged through all the ideas in said file and VOILA'! the inn got the nod.

Positives: A true slice of Americana. This place is solid as a rock. Every room has a view of the river. Neat as a pin. Perfect place to stay in the fall when the leaves are changing. Take a good book and just chill. Top floor has room for 6, complete with kitchen, dining area, hot tub and glassed-in rooftop sitting room. Great for a getaway weekend for couples or families.

Recommendations: Eat in Zanesville or McConnellsville. (There is one pizza place and one very small eating establishment that closes early. The mill's restaurant is only opened weekends.) Two convenience stores exist.

Check out the website at www.stockportinn.com.

It's a YOU Problem

Another concept label I heard recently while driving on the interstate. My interpretations of this phrase shot off in all different directions. If a person decides to commit a crime to get some kicks and gets caught or if someone thinks using foul language in front of children is acceptable t...those are definitely YOU problems. Pretty cut and dry. All of the responsibility is on them. Someone else. Your hands are clean. Whew.

Now the flip side. What's your YOU problem? Mine? Scenario: We recently changed churches. The people are fabulous -- outgoing, joyful believers; the minister gives the most incredible sermons; we use our Bibles every week; I am learning so much. Now the 'hitch' to this perfect picture for moi is when the folks walk in wearing clothes that look like they slept in them or just mowed their yard or think that ultra-casual is fashion chic. And in their hands they carry a diet Coke or a Starbucks cup. Call me snooty or a stick-in-the-mud or out-of-date... fine with me, I really don't care. When I or anyone else goes to worship the Lord in His house, my belief is that you should wear your best. If that is a pair of jeans, so be it. If that is the same pair of jeans every week, I understand . But that isn't the case here.

My argument: if you were invited to the White House to meet the President or if you were given the opportunity to spend the evening with the president of your company, would you wear your wrinkled-up cargo shorts and a faded Polo shirt? Would you saunter into the West Wing on your way to the Oval Office carrying your favorite latte? Do you think Joseph and Mary strolled into the temple donned in mediocre clothing, carrying a glass of wine taking Jesus to to be blessed? I think not. Yet here are people entering the house of the Most High displaying inappropriate laziness instead of showing the highest respect and awe for the privilege of entering into the presence of the Most High. (small print disclaimer: this is the author's opinion and she takes full credit for it)

I had never shared this with anyone until a friend and I just weeks ago were having a very special conversation, a real heart-to-heart exchanging life-altering situations we each have experienced. When I told her how I felt she totally agreed with me then gave me some very sage advice: Wear what you want. We all will answer to God for our choices. In other words -- shut up and let it go, girl.

So I wear my 'Sunday clothes' and feel good about my choice. And the folks surrounding me wear not-so-Sunday-clothes....and I am at peace. (let's see... I can cross 'Church clothes' off the list....what's next? hmmm...maybe cell phone etiquette.....)

A PUSH present

All right. I get that labels change. But this is icky. Really. A push present?

I'm sorry but that is just absolutely disgusting. Sounds like you're being gifted for your role as a brood mare. (I can almost hear the stable groom yelling "NEXT!!!") Where's the love and gentility in that label? Ewww.

It's downright degrading, don't you think? Totally tacky and way too visual for me. It's probably one of the new vocabulary terms being introduced into the 2011 Urban Dictionery being prepared for print. I can just imagine the entry: Push present ( n. poosh prez'ent) 1. a gift given to a woman upon the birth of a child 2. better make it expensive 3. jewelry is always acceptable as well as expected 4. make that 'preferred' instead of acceptable

Think I'll stick with New Mother's gift, thank you very much. Might seem old-fashioned and clumsy to you but conveys the above coarse message in a much more beautiful and feminine and meaningful way, n'est se pas?

Behind the Comma

Listening to 'Mike and Mike In the Morning', I heard Greenberg say something about what appeared behind the comma concerning someone's name that I didn't quite catch.

Whether you're a doctor (... , MD) or a doctor (... , PhD), an accountant (... , CPA) or a gemologist (... , GG) there are professional designations you may use to label yourself.

Then there are the prizes and achievements earned/rewarded such a Nobel Peace Prize winner or Olympic Gold Medalist or Sole Survivor.

What about titles like President or Senator or Professor?

But my personal favorites are the ones that come with no extra letters. Or fanfare. Or headlines. Mother and Father. Friend. Soldier. American. Confidant. Neighbor. Mentor. And maybe we should add a propriate descriptors after a person's name that describes them like Mary Smith: Trustworthy, quilter, genealogist or Joe Brown: Storyteller, Civil War re-enactor, chef.

Because what you have filled in behind your name is all the really good stuff, isn't it??

Your Currency

I was reading my niece's Facebook page recently and a message from one of her friends caught my attention. The subject was potty training and the friend suggested using 'the currency' which would appeal directly to the child, influencing this three-year old to get with the program.

I had never thought of personal motivation as currency before and I'm loving that concept because it pertains to us all. ( I think most of us adults have been asked what makes us work harder on the job sometime during our working careers. Money, vacation time, free lunches, all fit into that scenario.) But every last soul on this planet has their very own 'something' that speaks to them on a whole different level and can work what may seem like a miracle when nothing else will. In this child's case it may be as simple as alone-time spent with her mother or a bowl of Captain Crunch cereal or a new coloring book. And logically that currency can change over time. Maybe that bowl of tasty breakfast food has become a box of Junior Mints or a pair of new shoes or an hour in a bookstore along life's path.

It is what it is. There's no judgement called for. No opinion wanted. No excuse necessary. No law to follow. It is truly the epitome of that old saying "To each his own".... to savor, to delight, to claim.

Paris and Lindsay -- Two Playground Bullies

Remember your mother's sage advice when you told her about another kid who was bothering you at school? Picked on you during recess or laughed at your mistakes or tried to intimidate you? She gave you a comforting hug and told you to "just ignore them and they will go away, Honey". Seemingly so simple yet so hard to put into practice when you're a child, your feelings and emotions stretching to cope with those stomach-in-knots situations. Eventually you and your adversary follow divergent paths and that contentious relationship dissolved into a distant memory......

Why don't the press, the paparazzi and the public apply that same logic and simply turn their backs on these two? Are we really so needy that we have to watch two women constantly embarrassing themselves?

I don't know about you but I get worn out by the feeding frenzy the rest of us are subjected to surrounding their sad life choices. Maybe realizing their behavior is not acceptable would be the best way to save them. Maybe being left out of popular publications and tell-all television shows would be the best life-changing rehab program of all.

A Summer of Monarchs

Have you noticed.......?

Have you found your eye wandering, following their fluttering wake?

Have you wondered where their path will take them -- over boxwood, under limb, through meadow, dodging car? Slipping through fence rails, pausing on welcoming blossom?

Have you hoped their journey be a safe one with a happy ending?

Have you been proud of their determination? Their will to succeed?

I have. I'm envious of their beauty, how the sunlight plays across the vibrant colors that brand their sails. I am overwhelmed by the miles they are destined to travel answering the luring call of their breed. I am thankful for the smile that lights each person's face as eyes focus on their fanciful, graceful dance. Filled with promise, shared for free.

Music to My Ears

Soft soulful notes swirl and dance in the surrounding invisible air. Hard driving beats of a drum set cut right through your chest. Guitar twangs, leg-slapping timing, head-bobbing motions, contagious smiles.

Music plays all around me. Everyday. Immersion is a relief. A pleasure. A douse of pure delight. Refreshing. Rebirth.

Smooth Jazz ~Soothing background sounds for driving; great for 'white noise' when hard-core concentrating is necessary for a project deadline. Feels like small, intimate club atmosphere in Chicago or NYC. Relaxing and sophisticated yet energizing and urban.

Country ~ Toe-tappin', sing-along tunes. Honest lyrics. Thoroughly and truly all our own. Fun, happy, sad, thoughtful, tearful, joyful, painful, God-fearing, poignant. Filled with values, laughter, shared experiences, emotions laid bare.

Top 40 ~ Monday through Friday work-day mornings. Tuned to a station that broadcasts what's happening in the mainstream by a team of hip DJ's. Trendy updates on who's hot and who's not.

Ecclesiastical ~ The old favorites. The contemporary offerings. Colorful melodies that act as modern reminders of the Lord's rainbow covenant.

Celtic ~ Generations from ages ago speak through the tales sending messages only my heart understands.

New Age/Deep Relaxation ~ Thorough, cleansing "exhaling". Re-centering balance. No concentration. Only feel.

Steel Drums/Caribbean ~ Dig the toes deep into heated white sand. Soak in the warmth of the golden sun on your face, your shoulders, your arms. Gaze out at the glorious sea shades of turquoise, aqua, green, teal. Sip a cold, fruity drink garnished with a vibrant hot pink paper umbrella. Now close your eyes......aahhh......

I hope music is a thread woven into the fabric of your everyday, matching mood and mind-set and need. Another beautiful dimension of life on this planet.

It Does Take a Village

When Hillary Clinton published her book, I had absolutely no interest in reading it. Seemed like a waste of time. Didn't like her politics, wasn't going to support this avenue of revenue for her.

One Sunday, months later, I was in our church's library and I saw a copy lying on the bookshelf. I walked over and picked it up. Flipped through it. Not a very thick book. An easy, quick read. So I sat down and skimmed through it. Aside from her pointed left-wing comments, the concept of the book was a logical one: We do depend on each other to guide, nurture, educate, prepare, protect our children. BUT...BUT... I, as the parent, am ultimately responsible for my own.

We cannot put the blame on a teacher or a scout leader or a coach or a neighbor when we are disappointed in the behavior or choices of our children. Morals, manners, personal integrity, faith, self-esteem, discipline must be given the means to grow and thrive in our own homes. As parents we most definitely have the right to choose who we want surrounding our children to keep them safe, act as good examples, and broaden their horizons in new and healthy and strengthening ways.

That's what LOVE means. That's how RESPECT develops. That's an EXPECTATION. That's our JOB.

Writing Letters

I don't care how addictive the lure of email and Facebook and texting is, nothing can replace seeing a real honest-to-goodness letter in your mailbox.

Admit it. Amid all this electronic community we now inhabit, there is nothing nicer than to be the recipient of a handwritten missive, knowing it took a commitment of time, a personal choice and a feel-good emotion on the part of the writer who understood you would share that same feeling as you read what was being shared on each page.

I'm issuing a friendly challenge:Sit down TODAY and write to someone who has touched your life. Or someone you miss. Or someone you have been thinking about but just haven't taken the time to contact. Or a family member you haven't heard from lately. Simply jot a friendly note ~ Or ~ write page after page after page. Whatever it takes, whatever feels good to reach out and put a smile on a face that will appreciate being remembered.

St Joseph's Indian School

My maternal grandmother was a proud DAR member. With documented proof of her ancestors who fought in the American Revolution, she moved up the ranks to become Regent of her chapter. (I became a card-carrying member just to act as a silent supporter for her!)

As a member there were opportunities made available to which ladies could make financial contributions and one of these was the St Joseph's Indian School in Chamberlain, South Dakota. At that time (in the 70's and 80's) it was an all-girl school. And my grandmother received a quarterly newsletter which she saved just for me when she had finished reading it.

I poured over that publication. The high school classes were very small and the girls mostly went to vocational or community colleges when they graduated, becoming nurses aides, teaching assistants, office staff, etc, through those programs. I would absorb all the info in every single article I read concerning their field trips, their academic classes, special visitors and the arts/crafts projects.

But you want to know the most wonderful part of this cultural interfacing -- all the way from the western plains to the Ohio Valley, from the tribe of the Lakota to a midwestern urban student? Their names. Their beautiful last names. Like Running Bear and Soaring Eagle and Shining Star and Whispering Winds. I was positively enthralled with those vibrantly descriptive, 'visual' names. I thought those girls were so so so lucky. And because of those very names I was able to follow some of them on their educational journey as I traveled along mine.

St Joseph's still exists, still educates, still contributes....and my heart is still touched by the ancient heritage and deeply rooted traditions illustrated by those young women with those incredible surnames which, in turn, had enlarged and enriched the dimensions of the world for a very lucky granddaughter.

"Christians Don't Gossip....They 'Share'!"

Oh, yeah. Put me at the top of the list. I will be the first to admit I enjoy some juicy gossip. I do! I think it has something to do with wanting to be "in the know", up on all the newest and most current info. I sure want to know what's going on in the office or the neighborhood or the church or the high school or the community. Who wants to be in the dark and feel stupid or awkward in certain situations?

People have always told me confidences because I'm an excellent sponge. I just keep my mouth shut when I'm asked to. Have I spread other whispered tales and innuendos to friends and co-workers? Without question. Call me bad. Call me human.

It's when you have a person in your corner of the planet who is mean, conniving, rude, jealous, manipulative using a secret or a rumor or a lie to advance themselves or get their kicks while hurting someone else that makes me mad. Or sad. Or defensive. Or want to strike back. So that makes two pathetic people, doesn't it?

Have I stepped up and verbally expressed my opinion to deflate a tidbit or two? Absolutely. Have I done it enough? Absolutely not. Gossip is a slick, tricky path. We all know it. We all spread it. We've been personally touched by it. We've used it. We've denied it. We've felt righteous because of it. We've been stung by it. We've been shocked. We've been doubtful. We've ignored it. We've fueled it.

I saw a comedian, Mike Warnke, on television many years ago, doing his schtick. This one-liner has stuck with me because it hit home. I still laugh when I share this: "Christians don't gossip. They share!" Don't you love it? We can rationalize anything!!

We can label it whatever we want, use it however we will. Justify the end by the means. I still listen to it. Hopefully my sharing days, though, have been narrowed to passing on the good news and not the ugly.

The "I FEEL" Generation

With all the marketing/sociological/demographic buzz terms such as Generation"X" , "Y"and "Me", I want to add my take on the current 20-somethings who flow in and out of my days.

They 'expect' a lot, take much for granted, seem to live in a very cushy bubble and, I fear, have no concept of what's outside that bubble once it bursts when they're handed their diploma and leave the ivy-covered walls of their selected institution of higher learning.

Am I lumping them all into one big pot? Yes, but merely for the sake of this entry. (We all know kids who are born knowing what they want to do and where they want to go from the moment they leave the womb. Many work very hard in the college classroom and many more work simultaneously at jobs to pay for that privilege.)

I just have one question for you: Have you listened to this generation and how they state their opinions? They ALL say the same thing. It's incredible. It's unusual to hear "I think..." or "My opinion is..." , the current catch phrase is "I feel....". Has this been your experience as well?

How are you supposed to react when you are told, in response to your inquiry as to when a certain someone will be arriving at your home for the weekend in order for you to make plans, "I feel I will be coming in on Friday or Saturday." WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN? Talk about gobbledeegook. So does that give me the liberty to be home or not when they knock on my door because I "felt" I didn't have to be?!? (I actually had this conversation last week. I gotta tell ya I was NOT a happy camper. To that person, whom I love dearly and cherish even more, I explained that they needed to figure out the definitive answer for their arrival. Period. And we'd go from there.)

This warm and fuzzy stuff was huge when these kids went through elementary and middle schools. Self-image and self-confidence and fitting in and everyone is special was all the rage. I get all the psychology behind the concepts. I do. But the first time one of these kids says to their boss (who is a member of my generation) something like, "I feel.... that the work day is too long" or "too strenuous" or " this deadline is too soon" or "I won't be able to work overtime because I have plans", I guarantee you they will gain some valuable first-hand on-the-job in-your-face knowledge. Initially they will receive the cold, hard look of incredulous disdain which will be followed immediately by verbiage designed to clearly remove any and all misunderstanding that the aforementioned facial expression did not already convey. (And most certainly, another guarantee, this boss will care less about their employee's tender feelings of self-image!)

Bless their inexperienced hearts. I know how smart they are and how they will adapt quickly as life teaches them lessons. This age bracket will become stronger and more resilient as their resume of situations grows. Just as generations before them have done. I truly really feel very strongly about this. (touche'!)

New Hair, New Glasses...New Me!

Isn't that nice to know we can 'reinvent' ourselves? First I cut 6" off my hair then I changed my hair color just a bit and now I have these very trendy new frames. I feel like a whole new me! (Still scare myself when I walk in front of a mirror ~ who is that staring back at me??!)

I'm pairing the new look with some subtle changes in my attitude. How easy it is to soften a spoken opinion or be able to see both sides of an argument or stand up with someone who is being bad-mouthed by coworkers. With well chosen words and a calm demeanor you can sway those around you easier than you think. Defuse a volatile situation. Re-direct energies in positive directions. By showing your heart and using your head, you will see changes in those around you. I already have.

Best Lip Balm EVER!!!!

My niece has discovered, in my humble but accurate opinion, the greatest lip balm recipe on the planet. Her line is called 'Anne's Garden' after her darling little girl. You have to try her Butter Cream Lip Balm. For only $3.50 (plus $1.00 postage), you will be absolutely amazed. This particular product is fantastic. I tried Chapsticks, Carmex, Blistex, Burt's Bees and all the other wannabes out there on the market. I finally settled on Mentholatum and have been a devotee for years. But not anymore. When I rubbed this on my lips I became an instant fan. It is light. Smooth. Not crusty or waxy. I was surprised how it lasts for hours. Great by itself or under lipstick. Pleasant fragrance. Moisturizes beautifully.

You can find it on her blog site (tidbits365.blogspot.com) or at her Etsy listing (annesgarden.etsy.com). If you have any trouble ordering, just let me know. You must try this product. You will love it just as much as I do!!

Sinks

My obviously antiquated understanding of the main and intended purpose for invention of the sink, be it kitchen, bathroom or basement, was the containment or holding of water, whether it was running 'through' to the pipe below while the drain was open or being held in the ceramic bowl while the drain was closed.

Yet I have discovered in my home that it is So Much more. Did you know it can serve as a wastebasket? Yessirree! Just toss any lint plucked off a shirt, maybe a small pebble that's fallen out of your shoe tread or how about that cough drop or gum wrapper that's been rolled into a tight little ball right down inside there and once you run a little water, hey!, it all disappears!! What do you know?!! Pretty slick, huh??

Funny - Haven't heard from any volunteers who were willing to step up and pay for the plumber when he charged me BIG TIME to snake out the pipes once all these 'contributions' had turned into a big globby-stinky-black-mucky-drippy mess which served as a barricade to the one thing that's supposed to be flowing through those very same pipes. Considering the 20 minute showers a certain person (who shall remain nameless) likes to take, you would think all that liquid would force the accumulating trash to simply wash out to the sewer line. Surely that hazy law or principle in my long-ago-and-far-away Physics class which beckons to me from the dark corners of my mind is trying to validate that assumption to be true.

And reminding everyone to use the wastebaskets available in each and every single room of this house (having been placed there accordingly for the sole purpose of collecting lint and paper and pebbles) along with telling that certain nameless person that they are not only wasting water but also turning the entire bathroom into a sauna, doesn't seem to be changing anything around here.

S0 maybe I just need to get a little craftier...like tuck a little piece of Limburger cheese in a drafty place so when the noses in the house start to pick up on it and complain about the odor, I can wonder out loud if it could be the stench of the yucky stuff in the pipes. Hmmm. That's one possibility. Perhaps a bit extreme yet oh so interesting to contemplate. A little mother's revenge. Sah-weet!!!

Jan Kish - La Petite Fleur

Jan is La Petite Fleur. A creative fireball whose flair for the fabulous, dedication to design and entrepreneurial spirit led her to start a culinary business. Well known in the culinary circles of sugar art after thirty years of dedication, she continues to grace the pages of the country's most outstanding bridal magazines, appear on national television and has now patented her own set of cake pans. Her decorated cakes, mints, almonds, cookies, and cupcakes have found their way to hundreds of discriminating destinations both near and far. All over the state of Ohio. From the east coat to the west. Across the pond as well ~ she has been retained to return to England this fall to create more memories for a wedding celebration.

In print. In person. Always astounding. Never disappointing.

I have had the wonderful opportunity to work for her. And with her. Know her as my boss. And as my friend. Her wheels spin 24/7. Ideas flow out of her pencil point and become sketches on very lucky sheets of paper. I invite you to discover her world at www.jankish.com .

I just wanted to share her. With you. Today. Just cause.

The Elusive Sweet Spot

The extra-loud volume of your clock radio jolts you awake (once again) with the help of your favorite morning DJ team. Your hand, mimicking The Addams Family's 'Thing', frantically searches for the snooze button to press, gaining ten more precious minutes of calm, quiet before facing the cold hard reality of another day. You settle back into your cozy cocoon, nestling under your soft bed covers. Your mind silently whispering "Ahhhhh...."

When the jarring music pops on again (the purpose is good, the timing is always bad) you realize all the stuff on your list to accomplish for the day has just evaporated. ~ POOF ~ What could be more important than your NEW priority? The discovery of the most incredible position in your 'nest' which you are not about to evacuate. You don't have the motivation or the desire. All your bones feel like they've just melted, sinking into the mattress. Your body is cradled in that extremely rare and oh-so-fabulous PERFECT SPOT.

A shower? Forget it. Pack lunches? Not hungry. Breakfast? Get your own. Take the dog out? YOU take the dog out. (Allowing yourself to wallow in The Moment is worth all the self-incrimination which most certainly will come later as you scramble around trying to accomplish all of the above.)

But, oh my, it is so SO worth it.

Inhale...Exhale...Inhale...Exhale

I am blessed with low blood pressure. Not dangerous-to-my-health low. I have an energy level that sets my friends heads to wagging. It's at that perfect level to juggle family (members~in town and beyond), job, going to the gym, volunteering, writing, church, studying, house and yard work, friends, writing, college kid, errands, appointments, reading, laundry, socializing, ironing, checking emails/Facebook, writing, taking classes, researching websites of interest, baking, catching a movie, passing tests, planning some time away, washing cars & car maintanance, cleaning out closets, burning CD's, praying, writing, being neighborly, taking evening walks with hubby, furniture/carpet shopping.......

Heck, this list makes my head spin. But not my blood pressure!! No sirree! The stubbornness this chick was born with is paying off in a big girl way. I am partnering my independent spirit with what is naturally occurring. Some people count to ten when they get upset. Some people scream and shout. I just don't want 'stuff' to overpower my composure. I want to possess that control over my own body. So my secret weapon is one word: Exhale. It's like pressing that rattling gauge on the top of a hot pressure cooker. Or poking a little teeny weeny hole in an inflated balloon. Ever so slowly the tension drops and all is back to normal again. Just three easy steps: close your eyes; inhale; exhale. Repeat. Feel all the angst slip out of your body? Ahhhhhhhhh.

Figure out what works for you. The best part: you will enjoy less lines and wrinkles as well!. With your genes (nothing you can do about them anyway) and gorgeous sunny days (sunscreen helps but sometimes those rays are just calling your name...) and children (your choice, remember? Crazy you!! Ha!) you will have volumes of opportunities to get some of the above without any effort on your part anyway. Absolutely free! At no cost to you!

So here's my challenge to you: stick your hand right in the mix and see what you can do to slow Mother Nature down a bit. And for those of you that all ready know -- Please share your tried-and-true trick below with the rest of us so we can benefit from your experience!

Trash Day

Along with the title of 'Queen of Recyling' in this house (and, yes, if you must know I actually do own a fabulous tiara which I wear from time to time), I also proudly wear the mantle of taking care of the weekly trash pick-up. I've decided it's a little bit of a control thing. Really? You'd call it a control thing? What?!?

Well, yeah. I can organize it the way I want to. I can make sure it gets out to the curb on time. I don't have to remind or bug .... or complain..... or bug ......or whine....or push anybody else. I get it done as soon as I get home from work the evening before our scheduled day. I'm efficient, neat and calm (the last being the most important of course). Wow. I sound someone I'd want to hire on a permanent basis for all sorts of jobs.

Just another reason this family darned lucky to have me. Think I better remind them more frequently just how much. Toot my horn every once in a while. But....on second thought maybe I'll just keep operating slightly under the radar. That way I can quietly maneuver in and around, smiling when catching a compliment whenever cast from hither and yon, yet all the while keeping the household humming along on my well-oiled wheels.

Wait~~maybe I should re-think that!

Compliments...or...'My Way'? Hmmmm. 'My Way'...or...Compliments? (give me a sec; juggling/juggling/juggling the these two concepts in my mind....) And here's the Master of Ceremonies with the announcement of the unanimous decision: "The win-ner iiisss... : 'My Way'!!!!" and the crowd goes wild.....!!!!!

Kick Ass Shoes

I wore a pair of turquoise, very pointed toe, embossed lizard pattern, inch-and-a-half heeled mules to work today. My neighbor gave them to me about a year ago. They were in her closet and she decided after buying them that she wasn't going to wear them. No receipt -- Did I want them? You bet. Way, way cool. An opportunity not to be missed. And to be honest I wouldn't have even have given them a second look, let alone purchased them because with the way they are cut I never would have thought I could keep them on my feet, let alone wear them any length of time.

All I can say is I am glad I proved myself wrong!! Have I worn them before today? Yes, maybe two or three times. But, oh, baby, for some reason today was THE day! Coworkers commented on them. Customers commented on them. One of my bosses even commented on them. I am telling you I felt like hot stuff today. All day. There is nothing that makes a girl feel more fabulous than an outrageous pair of kick ass shoes. Put me right over the top. I know I wore a slightly bigger smile and my hips swung just a little teeny bit more because of it. That "Hey! I am looking so cute and I know it and I am enjoying every single minute of it" kind of look. I was oozing (maybe that's a bit dramatic but you understand, don't you) that oh-so-wonderful warm and fabulous feminine confidence that feels really, really goooooood. And we all love to have those standing on the bow of the Titanic with our head thrown back and the wind blowing across our outstretched arms cause we just conquered the world kind of moments. Oh, yeah, we do.

These puppies will be a tough act to follow and I realize I do have to pace myself. Can't startle the folks day after day after day. But I can't let them down, either, now can I? Such a quandary. Well, we all have our burdens...and one must maintain expectations. It's a social responsibility I take quite seriously. Sooooooo.... I'll just have to rely on my stylist ( that's rich ~ that would be me, of course!) to pull something absolutely marvelous together in the morning. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. And VOILA! The makings of another fashion triumph. It is tough to be me....or that evil twin I was telling you about just days ago....

Olay Regenerist Night Recovery Cream

The BEST investment ever. Has B3 vitamins. Light not heavy/oily. You don't need gobs of it. $17.99 at my store. Coupons for $3 off appear frequently in our Sunday supplement.

This pale purple cream is incredible. Gets rave reviews from morning talk shows and consumer groups. Try it for two weeks. An hour before you go to bed, wash your face and gently rub it into the lines at the corners of your eyes. Around your mouth. Between your eyebrows. Glides right on.

Now relax. Read a sexy romantic novel. Look at Vogue. Watch reruns of Glee. Whatever floats your boat. Let it soak in nicely before you start nestling into the fabric of your pillow.

After two weeks let me know what you think. This product is fabulous, inexpensive and feels so smooth. You're gonna love it!!

I am SO not ready for this yet!!@#*!*

I thought all this aging stuff, and change in general, was supposed to start happening to people in the 70's. Or 80's. Not now. And certainly.... CERTAINLY.... not to me.

My nails stop growing at about a quarter of an inch long because at that length they break off (bad thing). I'm getting those little red skin spots (ugh--really bad thing). These little 'thick' spots are appearing on my collar bone (weird bad thing). A few white eyebrow hairs have shown up (pluckable bad thing). My upper arms started looking just a little like cottage cheese (dimply bad thing). When did the erosion lines appear running down into my cleavage (now come on! bad thing)?? What happened to perky by the way (bewildering bad thing).Eyelashes fall out (not-great-for-mascara bad thing). I remember stuff half of the time on one day(frustrating bad thing) and everything the next (frustrating good thing). And those red-old-lady-skin-dots (UGH! bad thing).

In all fairness I feel compelled to balance the argument: The hair on my head is growing faster than ever before (my stylist even mentioned it good thing). The hair on my legs hardly grows at all (time-saver good thing). I weigh 2 more pounds than I did at high school graduation (no joke good thing). I am lifting weights to combat the dimplies (take that! good thing). My knuckles aren't big yet (alleluia good thing). My nearsidedness is sharper than ever (great for reading good thing). And speaking of cleavage (underwires: priceless good thing). Still have tons of energy (fantastic good thing).

The few gray hairs on my head never bothered me because those can be hidden in so many clever ways, right, everyone? I've tried a few and praise the inventor of dye. Obviously your gene pool is ever so important to give you the interior framework to support whatever gilding you prefer to apply to the exterior. Eating right, exercising, drinking water all help. (blah blah blah) So be smart and treat yourself right, Girls.

Oh, ah, could you wait just a second or two while I...crunch chew chew crunch chew swallow. There. Sorry! My peanut M&M's were calling. Scientists will one day prove what I already know. Chocolate is a food group all its own and eases all sorts of stress and angst. Personally I find it more soothing than wine. Takes the edge off for me. Gives a person a much better perspective, makes the world a little bit brighter and their little anxieties easier to handle. Now, where are those tweezers of mine.....?

Daniel -- Profoundly Faithful

During his Palm Sunday sermon yesterday our pastor, Dave Bogue, referenced the book of Daniel several times. I remembered the story of Daniel surviving the lions den and his three friends walking out of the blazing hot furnace but not much else.

This morning I pulled out my new Life Application Study Bible and turned to Daniel located in the Old Testament. This edition fascinates me because of all the referenced historical and biblical background material provided at the bottom of each page. Did you realize Daniel, his three friends as well as all of the other prisoners chosen after Nebuchadnezzar defeated Jerusalem, had to walk over 500 miles to reach Babylon? I didn't. Intrigued I started reading this testament to pure faith. No artificial veneer. No false pretenses. They trusted beyond all measure, resolving to hold on to their integrity, discipline and belief in the Lord no matter the earthly cost.

Made me reflect, not just by staring in the mirror but looking deep down inside into who I am. I pray. I listen. I ask for guidance. Wisdom. Answers. Bring people and situations before God when my heart is heavy, as well as in celebration. I say 'thank you' as often as I can, don't you? (I know I'd like to hear the appreciation if I were He.) Keep the Golden Rule in front of me at all times.

But not enough. That is the bottom line I had to truthfully face. I could do more. Do it better.

I am in awe of these four men who did not bend their values, were respected by their earthly king and saved because it by their heavenly father. If ever I am tested to those extremes, I do pray that I will be able to walk steadfastly in the shoes of those gone before me, serving as another example of discipleship with unfailing trust, a full heart and unwavering love.

Me, the Mall and the Space Station

A week and a half ago I was watching the 6 O'clock News. The weather man announced that the International Space Station would be passing over around 9pm that night. "Look for a white light moving northwest to northeast." Ok. I'll keep it in mind. I like to see stuff like that. Made salads for supper. Did the dishes. Decided to go the gym.

I was riding the bike, reading as usual, when I remember what I'd heard. Glanced at the clock on the wall. 8:55. Plenty of time. Curious I decided to check it out. Left my book and towel on the seat and walked outside. The sky was absolutely cloudless. Dry air. Clear as could be. The most beautiful dark sapphire blue color. Perfect for station gazing.

I made my way to the center of the big parking lot trying to put myself in-between the tall light posts where I would have the best vantage point. Still wasn't real dark but it would have to do. Better with my hands up shielding my eyes. Started looking up and to my left. I had no idea if the 'bright, white light' would be low, close to the horizon line or high above me or even somewhere in the middle.

There! Oh, my gosh! It was white and it was bright and it was coming right at me at a decent clip from my left side. The station was easy to spot and it was alot bigger than I expected. In fact it was much larger than some airplanes you spot flying at higher altitudes. I found myself walking straight ahead on a 90 degree intercept to its movement so this incredible wonder of modern science would float right over my head.

Felt like good karma or something. I watched it continue on until the light faded, then disappeared. Just me. All alone with the space station. In a parking lot. Feeling very, very cool.

Jesse James, Sandra Bullock and a Cliche'

As soon as the news broke about Jesse's infidelity I told my husband if I was Sandra I would have looked that creep in the eye, pointed my finger right up in his face and said "Thanks for reducing this marriage and my career down to one stupid, bound-to-be-repeated-a-million-times cliche: Talk about being blindsided. Really, Jesse, great job. Thanks. Thanks a whole @#* lot."

She hasn't been seen nor heard from since the crap hit the fan and her life as she knew it splintered into a million pieces. Hopefully someone on the magazine staff with a kind heart called to give her the heads-up so she had time to get away before the mad feeding frenzy began. After her heartfelt, emotional speech at the Oscars (with Jesse sitting in the audience with puppy dog eyes moist with unshed tears.....gag me) how stupid, betrayed, raw, bewildered, enraged, embarrassed, foolish and used she must feel.

Here she was on location out of state, filming a movie, earning a paycheck. (Before marriage was Sandra in headlines due to promiscuous behavior, clubbing 'til 3am, getting stupid traffic tickets, shoplifting, dressing like a wench ~ the usual stylings of a steriotypical Hollywood bimbo? No. She worked hard at her craft and kept a lower profile.) And her husband is back home acting 'entitled' shall we say (Hmmm....seems to be going around these days...maybe 'ole Jesse will ne the one to sign up for therapy this week) on a couch in his garage. Ouch! Talk about sad irony.

Granted her hubby was married to a porn star, works on choppers/cars, is tatooed from here to there. All the usual 'bad boy' stuff. Clues to behavior? Who's to say. Sometimes love just sucks. Even when the lady is doing all the right things, the choices made by others can muck everything up. I give her credit -- she was willing to give her heart. Too bad the recipient just didn't understand the true value of the gift.

The Yellow Purse, the French, and Easter

I was getting in my car to go grab a bite for lunch and I saw this girl across the parking lot sling her purse up onto her shoulder. It was a yellow leather bag and the color caught my eye. Wasn't anything super special. Didn't match her shoes or her belt. Didn't really match anything at all truth be told. Just a cute bag. That was yellow.

POW. Yellow. Shoulder strap. Up out of ... well, I'm not sure where the 'where' actually is (or was) ... this niggling thought reared its head, rudely poking me (more like an annoying pestering really) in the memory department. SNAP. I caught a flash of a yellow purse on my brain screen. Square-ish kind of shape. Bright yellow. Quilted. Something long....long..... forgotten. My curiosity was peeked. A square-ish, bright yellow, quilted, shoulder bag that I obviously had. Sometime. In this lifetime. Hunger pangs would have to wait --I had a mystery to solve.

I sat in my car letting the 'ole memory run a background check. I got a glimpse of some kind of pattern on the material. And the feeling it was from my high school days. Dig, brain, dig, because now I was definitely determined to filter through all the layers in the gray matter filing cabinet to try and figure it out. Like taking two hands and digging in the sand at the beach to find some hidden kind of treasure. Almost there.... just a few more seconds....getting the sense that I've almost unlocked the mystery and.....FLASH!! It was like I had a fuzzy snapshot jump off the page of some forgotten album, complete with old-style serrated edges and the words "In Front of the Eiffel Tower" written on the white border. ...and was that me with the haunting yellow quilted bag hung on my shoulder??!!?

Oh, my. I probably thought it was just the PERFECT accessory for my bright yellow canary coat that I took along as well on the spring break trip my senior year with a group of fellow French students, assuming (sorry, no cable Weather Channel existed then) the weather would want to cooperate and be pleasant because: it was the week of Easter; everyone puts away their dark winter clothes and reaches for wonderful spring shades and fabrics; we all want to think about blooming bulbs, blue skies, and warm sunshine. RIGHT? Well, let me tell you that would be everyone except the entire French population which, as I found out Easter morning attending mass at Notre Dame, thoroughly intended to cling to their drab putty gray and ugly nondescript brown overcoats well beyond that landmark Sunday. I'm telling you I looked like some poor lost canary surrounded by a herd (yes, a herd) of the somber old, dull morning doves. Oh, geez. Did I look just a little tiny bit out of place or what?

Well, let me make an announcement: Wake up, people!!! This is Paris -- You know: P-A-R-I-S. City of Light. THE the fashion capitol of the planet. Ring any bells!??!! Home to Chanel and Yves St Laurent. Hellloooo!!? I guess someone forgot to inform the natives. And, above all, we were celebrating the gift of eternal life. The greatest sacrifice given, the greatest love ever shared. Ever heard of it?? Guess not. And sober?? All glad hearts and smiles must have been prohibited by law. Oh! And don't forget to include bright colors in that as well.

Bet I made a big impression. Bet I shook their world. Nah. On second thought they probably went home and gossiped about the crazy American girl who must have been out of her mind. Wear yellow on Easter? Are you nuts? And happy? Who ever heard of that? Too bad I didn't have any marshmallow Peeps to pass out. That woulda drove 'em right over the edge, like lemmings to the sea. Talk about a Kodak moment worth capturing.

Hair -- the LEAST of My Worries!!

When I entered the salon on Tuesday night my hair was 6 inches longer than when I left two hours later. The color had gone from pretty darned blond to a darker blond with some lighter blond woven highlights. (When I was leaving another stylist saw me and sucked in her breath and stared -- "You cut all her hair off!!!")

I was ready for a change...or so I thought. Four days later I'm still trying to figure out what to do with this shorter length that now gentle curls just under my ear lobes. I've experimented with a curling iron, hot rulers, and just plain straight.

Still shock myself when I catch my reflection in a mirror. Not comfortable at all with this look I haven't sported in over eight years. Gone is my ponytail tied with classic grosgrain ribbons. The varied collection of clips and barrettes lie idle on the shelf. No chignons possible now. I am just as confident with or without the long locks. But my self-image has changed because I still catch myself lifting my hand to flip the ends over my shoulder as I lean over or go to gather the entire mass to clip up while at the gym as always was my habit.

This new do -- Does it make me look younger? Older? Updated? So far the reviews have been stellar, applauding my decision. I still have my reservations.

But you know what?? Hair grows. It is one of those wonderful things in our life that doesn't change....just goes on and on. The Earth didn't stop turning because of Tuesday night. I'm not scarred. Didn't lose a limb. Not blinded or lost my sight or life. As an old co-worker used to say, "There's just a few days between a good and a bad haircut." So simple yet so true. Bad dye job? Try again. Uneven? Trim it. Too short? Just wait those few days.

Hair. It defines us. Drives us crazy. Makes us feel like a queen. A sexy siren. Or grounds us and makes us realize we are beautiful just as we are.

My Evil Twin

Wow. It has been four months since I wrote last. I have really missed this. Carving just a little time for yourself out of the day is good for your soul. Self-expression is important by whatever method or talent you possess. Mine is by the pen. I watched the DVD Confessions of a Shopaholic and fell in love with her by-line "Girl with the Green Scarf". I debated on changing my site's name to 'Girl with the Sharp Quill' but I didn't. Too copy-catty. But seemly that title echoed the other side of my personality....the one I can't seem to control!

I am a Gemini thus I can legitimately claim I have a dual nature. (Must admit I could care less about any of that astrology stuff. Don't even have any desire to learn about it.)But even though I have no interest doesn't mean that I haven't discovered how to use my birth date for my own purposes. Woo-Hoo!! Bordering on perfect really. Here's a great example: Growing up I was a goody-two-shoes, get good grades, stay-out-of-trouble-kind-of-girl (except in first grade when I decided I did NOT need a rest period on my little rug-thank you very much - so I would whisper to my best friend between the legs of desks and chairs and got shooed out into the hall two times....but that's another story for another day.) So whenever I did speak up or contributed a definite opinion people would look at me and say, "I didn't know you were like this!!' Heellllooooo, people!? Just cuz I didn't speak up all the time...like some others did....didn't mean I had nothing to share. Well, anyway back to my theme. And what I learned was when and if I did state how I felt and if that perhaps was just a bit edgy, shall we say, or was a tad bit acerbic or even just a touch nasty I could blame it on my evil twin and laugh!!! Talk about ideal! The day I figured that out and actually stated it out loud pushing off some pointed comment onto my dark side, everyone cracked up. They thought it was funny! And EUREKA!! I knew I had found the excuse of a lifetime. An ENTIRE lifetime. How darned lucky was that??

Now. Now. I see where your head is going with this. Don't even think I abuse this alibi at the expense of hurting someone else's feelings or simply to satisfy a twisted sense of humor (which I do hav....never mind). It's always said with a sparkle in my eye and a smile on my face. Hmmmm. But which 'me' is it....?