MammaMia!

OK, despite the ratings, I bit and went to see MammaMia! with my friend Sharon. I have never been the biggest ABBA fan, but this movie just sounded light and fun. And after this last week, Sharon and I decided that a mindless movie was just what we needed.

Yes, the plot was paper thin and full of holes, but this is fairly typical of musicals. It was painfully obvious that, despite being adorable, Pierce Brosnan is no singer. But, the costumes were great, the scenery, breathtaking, and Meryl Streep was her usual amazing self.

What tickled me was the audience demographics. I expected mostly ladies between 40 and 60. But there were quite a few 70 and 80 year old's there as well. And everyone came out smiling.

Ratings, schmatings! People coming out of a movie smiling and singing?

I call that a success!

1-800-CALL-VIK

1-800-CALL-VIK.

Vik is the person that fortunate computer owners have in their lives. The computer whiz who will take frantic phones calls for help when I have questions about how to do something, or have managed to screw up my system somehow. I know that I am not the only person who makes these frantic phone calls to him, but he always answers in that calm, reassuring voice and I know that he is going to make everything OK.

Vik is living on borrowed time. He has heart problems, high blood pressure, diabetes, neuropathy, and other health issues. He deals with the stepfamily issues that would have had the average man leaving long ago. But, thankfully, VIk is not the average man. He moves through life with a gentleness and a sweetness that belies his circumstances.

We need more Viks in this world.

Today

One thing nice about a new day is that it is like a clean slate. It gives us the chance to start ovcr and try to do better.

Good sleep is so healing. Kind of like a band-aid for the soul.

So, to today! :)

I Said it Out Loud

Oh my.

I am usually a tactful person. At least I try to be. I try to think before I speak.

But today, exhausted from no sleep and effects of yesterday's anesthesia, I put my foot in it. I am not saying that what I accidentally said was not true. But this person makes everyone around her pay for any slight, real or perceived. It was not a deliberately thought out barb, just a truth that should have stayed in my mouth.

So, I pray for the wisdom to keep my mouth closed if I am not with it enough to temper what might come out of it!

Not Too Bad!

Had my EGD today and was pleasantly surprised! With the help of oxygen and having the head of my bed elevated, I got through with no breathing trouble. :)

And best of all, with whatever combination of drugs they gave me, I don't remember a thing!

Now, I just wait on the pathology report, but the doc does not expect any problems.

#6...over

Priceless!

Testing 123

No, not THAT kind of testing!

I wish!

Tomorrow morning I am having what is known as an Esophagogastroduodenoscopy
or EGD for short.

I am a veteran of this test, but that does NOT mean that I like it. Many people are fortunate enough to be "out" enough not to remember this test at all. Unfortunately I am not one of them. Because of my myasthenia, my doc is stingy with the good drugs and I have long lasting memories of swallowing what seems like a garden hose. Ewwwwwwwwwww!

But, I am more tired of the pain I have been in almost constantly at this point, so I am biting the bullet and having EGD #6. Yes, you read that right, #6! Sheesh!

This doc and I have done one of these together already and I did not stop breathing (like I did during the one before that...funny how freaked out doctors get when one stops breathing!) so I think this will be OK.

I will be glad, however, when tomorrow comes and this one is over.

Garden hose, anyone?

Church

I went to church again this morning. I avoided it while I was under orders not to speak at all. Just too hard to write down answers to the inevitable questions on my whiteboard or my trusty Magnadoodle.

I have found a place to sit where I don't feel too conspicuous about not singing the hymns. It still does not "feel" right. My "seat" is in the choir! And someone ELSE is sittin' in it!

I saw my choir director's face fall when I told her it was going to be at least 3 more months before I could think about singing. I held on to my friend Sharon as she wept, missing her mother afresh after speaking to one of her mother's oldest friends.

There are some upsides to not being in choir. I actually get to visit with people. Usually, by the time I get my robe off and my folder put away, everyone is gone. I get to sit near the piano so I can watch our accompanist's hands as she makes incredible music. It is MUCH cooler not to have to wear a choir robe under spotlights in Mississippi in July.

So, I continue to carve out a temporary "place" for myself in church.

But come October, I'm takin' MY seat back!

49 is Coming

We celebrated my friend Sharon's 49th birthday today. My other friend Sharon and I had lunch for her at my house. I reassured myself that I could still put a really nice meal on the table by cooking chicken almondine. Sharon brought roses and a party hat, and with a bit of cake, we were set.

Of our little group of friends, three of us are within months of being the same age. Chip turned 49 first. Sharon will officially turn 49 this weekend, and I will turn 49 in October.

Now I have been known to pull a few pranks on certain milestone birthdays in the past. I managed to avoid paybacks for the most part on my 40th by having surgery a few days before my birthday. People were nicer than normal because I looked rather pitiful with my throat swathed in bandages.

But, 50 is coming up and there have been hints that there will be paybacks for anything I do to THEM when MY time comes around.

Will I do unto them anyway???

Stay tuned!

The Package

While going through my piles of stuff in my office, I came across a couple of songbooks from the local Jewish temple. I used to sing for them at times when my friend Elizabeth Ann was alive, so I was not really surprised to find them. However, the dilemma came when I was trying to figure out how to return them.

Like many temples in relatively small towns, the one here has no Rabbi. There is no official staff or anyone to contact. So, I decided to wrap them up and leave them at the door this afternoon in hopes that a member of the tiny congregation would find them tonight.

Since we have been having regular afternoon cloudbursts, my first thought was to wrap them in a plastic bag. I did not have a clear bag large enough to hold them and when I put them in a white bag, I was afraid that the package looked suspicious. This is something that would never have crossed my mind before 9/11! I pondered for a bit as to how to wrap these books in a way that was non threatening, but would keep them relatively protected. So, I looked around and found a bag that my friend Elizabeth would have approved of. It was a small shopping bag from Marshall Fields.

So, the books are stylishly hanging on the Temple door.

May they find their way home tonight.

Thinking Positive

After a few days of wallowing, I am trying really hard to get my positive attitude back. Even with MG, concern over aging parents & temporary loss of singing voice, I do realize how blessed I am in the grand scheme of things.

A positive attitude is something I have to kind of "fake until I make" sometimes. I can't change any of the above situations, but having the worst possible outlook does not help anything.

Wouldn't it be nice if positive attitude could be bottled and sold at Wal-Mart?

Wonder how many people would buy it?

Month 3

I am into my third month without being able to sing. I have done pretty well until now with just trying to get my speaking voice back.

But now I want to sing. This morning, I was listening to that New Christy Minstrel's song "Today." I wanted to sing so bad that I nearly cried. Not talking was easier than not singing.

I have faith that my singing voice will return. I have tried looking at this as a gift. I have tried looking at it as a nice rest. But, my heart is not buying it. When my niece starts singing and I can't harmonize, or I can't sing at the funeral of one of my dear elderly friends, the pain, though emotional, is almost physical.

I am sure there are lessons to be learned. But today, I don't want to learn.

I want to sing.

Learning

Earlier this week, I had a friend send me a link to an online course catalog. There were offerings for a variety of subjects, from languages to history.

I was not even tempted.

Now, I have always been the professional student. I have attended 3 colleges and hold 4 degrees, two of them Master's degrees. I loved learning about new things.

I can't figure out what has happened. Am I just tired or lazy? About all the learning I am up for these days is watching Discovery Health and HGTV.

I do like learning new art techniques for my cards. I still like to learn about new things to cook. But as far as "formal" stuff, the desire is just not there.

Will it come back?

Stay tuned.

Six Year Old Fun

I am excited today. Our six year old niece is coming to visit (with her parents, of course!) and we are going to have fun.

Little Sarah is a neat kid. She is well, behaved, but not TOO well behaved, if that makes any sense. She does not have so much that she is blase' about small treats and happies. She likes to be read to and loves art projects. In other words, a kid after my own heart! :)

I had a good time at the dollar store today, stocking up on books, puzzles, and art supplies. I have never quite grown up myself, so I get a kick out of looking for things a kid might like. Not to mention things that I will enjoy playing with as well!

So, let the fun and games begin!

Granna and the 'Rents

Today, three of the people I love most in this world are out of pocket.

My dad and sweet stepmom at flying off to Salt Lake City, where they will rent a car and drive to Montana. They both have some health issues, and I am just praying that none of them flare up during this trip! Stepmom is going to see one of her grandbabies for the very first time and is so excited she can hardly stand it. I am praying for uncomplicated flights and easy driving for them.

My sister's MIL, Granna is in Texas having a heart catherization. Granna represents security for me and has been a mama to me since mine died. The thought of losing her brings a level of sadness to me that is scary in its depths. She is one of the only people in my life who takes care of ME.

So many prayers for health and safety are going up this morning.

Many.

A Little More Talk...

Yesterday I went to a "voice therapist." Apparently this is different than a "speech" therapist. This lady's job is to teach me how to use my speaking voice more effectively.

I am allowed to talk for short periods to people who are in close proximity to me, but not on the phone or anywhere where I would have to raise my voice at all. But what gets me is the way I am supposed to talk. I am essentially supposed to talk the way I sing. This means resonant voice, fairly soft, and on a higher pitch than I am accustomed to speaking on.

Of course, my speaking voice has never been anything to write home about. I have a Southern accent and MG has caused my voice to lower and become more nasal. People are usually surprised when I tell them I am a soprano and are usually surprised because my singing voice is nothing like my speaking voice.

But, the aim is to make my speaking voice as efficient as possible to take stress off of my vocal cords and the nodules. I have to think before I speak (no comments from the peanut gallery here!) and place my voice in what singers call "the mask."

To me, I sound like a robot.

Danger, danger Will Robinson...

Week One

Well, I have made it through my first week of silence. I think I accidentally forgot and said about 3 words, but other than that, these lips have been sealed.

It has actually not been that bad. I have the internet and I have the ability to express myself pretty effectively in written words. I also have my trusty Magnadoodle (tm) and three white boards of assorted sizes. I have found low odor markers that look like razors with a squeegee on the end for erasing what I have written.

People I meet tell me I must be just bursting to talk, but this is really not the case. I am wanting very much to sing, but not necessarily to talk.

Week one down.

? weeks to go...

The Vortex

For months, I have seen these captioned cat pictures in my e-mails and on Facebook. But, I never knew where they came from until I read an entry in the blog of a friend's son.

These funny cat pictures come from a place called Lolcats.com After I clicked on the link in Luke's blog I was sucked into an almost all day vortex of looking at sometimes hysterical pictures of not just cats, but dogs, walruses, foxes, and bunnies.

Of course, I had to share the fun, so I started to e-mail pictures to friends. I just could not resist. I was in the grip of the vortex.

I am now on page 151. And the website promises that these pictures go "to infinity and beyond."

Uh oh...

Shhhhhhhhhhh

Went to the doctor today. Not unexpectedly, all the coughing I did during my bout with bronchitis, coupled with reflux, has caused nodules to form on my vocal cords.

"Node" is a word that strikes fear in the heart of any vocalist. In college, no music student even dared speak the word aloud. The word "nodes" would be spoken of in a hushed whisper. As in "Do you remember ______? She has...nodes!

I have been strictly instructed not to utter a word for the next 1 1/2 to 2 weeks. Like a friend suggested, that can actually be a gift of sorts. But, being vocally restricted for up to 3 months is harder to view that way. And not singing till the end of summer or early Fall is even harder to think about. Not when singing has been like breathing for most of my life.

The doc seemed pretty optimistic. I am trying to be optimistic as well.

So, for the moment, the watchword is

shhhhhhhhh

Finished!

I am FINALLY finished cleaning and organizing my office. It has taken over two weeks and involved literal blood, sweat, and tears.

This has been both a physical and a mental challenge. I am extremely sentimental and love to keep cards, memorabilia, pictures that have been drawn for me, etc.

Don't get me wrong. I kept plenty. A lot of the challenge was figuring out how to organize it effectively. But, I got rid of things that were not truly special. And now, I have the space and tools to really ENJOY my room.

And enjoy it I will.

Progress

Well, the great office cleaning and organizing project is STILL going on. But I am making progress. I have moved my desk over by the window and I can see the desktop for the first time in recent memory.

I am using Julie Morgenstern's book "Organizing From the Inside Out" as a guide. It talks about putting things where you really USE them. So, I have set up a vanity area in my office, so that I can easily get ready when my darling husband is hogging our one tiny bathroom, or asleep in our tiny bedroom.

Books, CD's, and sheet music are all being sorted and what is not being used or enjoyed has gone to a local church for their yard sale. Other books have flown off to friends who might enjoy them.

Trips down memory lane have slowed me down, but I do see an end in sight.

As as God is my witness, I will never let it get this cluttered again!

Really!

Letting Go

Well, today I am continuing the task of cleaning and decluttering my office. A lot of what I am doing is letting go...

Letting go of most of my "professional counseling" life.

Letting go of those books that I am never going to read again.

Letting go of unrealistic expectations of myself and current life conditions.

Letting go of the need to keep every memento that belonged to my deceased loved ones. The best memories are in my heart. ♥

How Do They KNOW???

As many of you know, my dear husband has had "new truck fever" for the past several weeks. His beloved GMC Sonoma has over 200,000 miles on it and is beginning to show it's age. For his 2 hour round trip commute, he has to have a reliable and low maintenance vehicle.

So, yesterday he went to our local Chevrolet dealer and got figures on a Chevrolet Colorado. He liked the gentleman with whom he was dealing and planned to finalize a deal on Tuesday, his next day off.

This morning, I was awakened by my husband, who told me that the truck would not start and that he would need to take my van to work.

Maybe it knows...

Bronchitis & Clutter

It has been a while since I have blogged. This is largely due to a bout of bronchitis that I have been battling for almost a month. I am on round three of antibiotics, but the cough just hangs on. I felt better for a few days and actually rallied enough to go to Montgomery to see some dear friends. But the symptoms are just hanging on and I am worn out. Bronchitis is not only sapping my physical energy, but it seems to be affecting my mental energy as well. My singing voice is gone, but I am trying not to panic too much about that just yet.

There have been some pluses to being more confined than usual. I have made some lovely cards. I have read several books. Looking at the clutter around me has actually inspired me to start a bit of organizing and getting rid of things I don't need. I found a cool organization, Bridge to Asia, http://www.bridge.org/books.html that sends used textbooks to China and Southeast Asia. I have decided that it is time to get rid of most of the counseling textbooks. Most of the information I want is online. I need to de-clutter in order to be able to physically maintain my home.

So, bronchitis has been a bit of a gift, but I am ready to give it back now!

The New Phone

Last week, during an extended power and internet outage, I did a foolish thing.

I bought a new phone without researching it first.

I don't do well without access to the internet. Some of my best friends are online on a Weight Watcher thread called RML. Most of my F&B (flesh and blood) friends are overwhelmed with their own problems. RML is my escape, my support, and, possibly? an addiction.

I also check my e-mail regularly. I get the news and prayer requests from my church and fun things from my friends.

So, I bit for a Palm Treo 680. It was an older model, but I really liked the size of it and my ability to see the screen clearly. Not knowing how long I would be off line, I bought the thing without really knowing enough about it.

It has bugs! For starters, the battery does not completely charge. Strike one! At times, the little AT&T at the top of the screen turns to gibbersish and tells me I have no service. It takes a time consuming reset to fix this problem and it is only temporary. AT&T sells no ringtones for this phone. I can download a costly ringtone creator, but why should I have to?

So, this phone is going back to the store, to be replaced probably by a Palm Centro. I like the Palm OS and want to be able to sync it with my other Palm Pilot data. I don't like the size of the Centro as well and the screen size is smaller. The keys are closer together and harder to manage. But, I want something reliable. I must admit to a lusting for an iPhone, but that is not in my current price range!

So, I am off to research phones and make a better choice when I am of sound mind and not suffering from internet withdrawal!

Wish me luck!

AI & DWTS

For those who are fans, these initials need no explanation. For those who are not, these are the initials of two of my favorite TV shows: American Idol and Dancing With the Stars.

Talent shows are nothing new to television. I still remember Ted Mack's Amateur Hour and Star Search. There is just something that fascinates me about some ordinary person being "discovered" and carried on to fame and fortune. If American Idol had been on when I was a twenty-something, you can bet your bottom dollar that I would have been one of those people lined up to audition. I am a ham. Just slice me up and serve me with honey and mustard. :)

I am really impressed with this year's crop of talent. They are the most original and talented bunch since Bo and Carrie.

Dancing With the Stars fascinates me because it takes people who are already stars of some sort, whether in entertainment, sports, or business, and gets them out of their comfort zones. I never cease to be amazed at how very good some of these humongous athletes can be, given the right partner and a lot of hard work. And even entertainers who have some dance experience find ballroom dancing a whole new ball game.

My favorite "star" this year is Kristi Yamaguchi. I have been a fan of hers since she was a 14 year old pair skater with Rudy Galindo. The discipline and dedication she showed on her way to her Olympic gold medal is standing her in good stead in this competition. I look for her to take the whole thing! :)

Tire Karma?

Well, the tire sagas continue...

Thursday I got in my happy little van and headed for Memphis to see my BFF. Ten minutes out of town, I could tell that my tire was flat, so I took the Bovina exit and pulled into the parking lot of the "Total Horse." This is a locally owned and operated place that caters to the equine population.

No worries. I called the number on my AAA card so that I could get some roadside assistance. The nice lady on the other end started asking me where I was. Unfortunately, neither the "Total Horse" nor the nearby Bovina Cafe were on her list of landmarks. Imagine that.

Finally, a man drove up and I was able to get an actual street name from him. This made the AAA lady happy and she told me that help was on the way. A nice man named Robert came out to put the spare on and I ambled over to the Bovina Cafe in search of a Diet Coke and a bite of something to get me through until I could make it to Madison to pick up my BFF's mom, who was making the trip with me.

As it was between breakfast and lunch service, the only thing available was a luscious, homemade slice of lemon meringue pie. Famished, I decided to order a piece. With a thought for my pie loving friends Andie and Bev, I totally enjoyed eating my pie and drinking my Diet Coke while waiting for Robert to finish with my van.

Within minutes, the spare was on and I went back to Vicksburg, where Mr. T.D. promptly fixed me up with 2 new tires and sent me back on my way to Memphis.

First the scooter, now the van. My friend, Q, says that I may have bad tire karma.

Is there any cure for that?

New Toy

I went to Wal-Mart today to buy a new toy for my scrapbooking and card making. It is a gadget that makes stickers out of cutouts, etc. You just feed them into this machine and out comes a piece of waxed paper with your cutout affixed to it with sticky stuff.

I decided I had to have this thing after seeing my friend play with hers Monday. It looked SO simple...

Yeah right.

I got mine home, took it out of the box, and looked at the directions. I promptly punched out a butterfly from some pretty paper and fed it into my new machine. It did NOT come out the other end neatly stuck to the waxy paper.

I took the cartridge out, and tried to figure out what I had done wrong. I am a klutz. This HAD to be operator error. A few minutes later, I gave up and called customer service. After about 15 minutes of trying to figure this thing out, the lady on the other end of the phone told me that she would send me a new one. "Just put it in and DON'T TOUCH IT!" she instructed.

Together we finally figured out that my cartridge CAME broken. I felt a little less clueless as I disentangled myself from the gooey mess and threw it in the trash.

So, unable to stand the 10 to 14 day wait for my replacement, I took myself back to Wal-Mart and got another cartridge. Came home, popped it in, and it worked! I am sending everything not nailed down through this handy dandy gadget.


Simple minds.

What can I say?

Holy Week

And, we're off!

I love Easter. I really do. This is my favorite time of year. I love Spring, with it's warming temperatures and budding trees and flowers. But, this is also my busiest week of the year.

One solo this morning in church...check!

That just leaves one trio on Maundy Thursday, two Good Friday service solos, and then the three ring circus that is Easter at my church.

This year, it looks like I will be singing for a funeral this week as well. The friend who just lost her mom, lost her dad today.

Sending up fervent prayers that the voice and body hold out for this all important week.

Some chocolate Easter eggs might not hurt either...

Bunny

My young friend, Anna, came today to decorate a bunny cake. The kind that you make by cutting one layer to make ears and a bow tie. Every kid needs to make a bunny cake at least once! :)

Waiting

Well, it has been over a week and I still have no new tire for my scooter. I feel like a kid who is grounded. I can't go to the mall!

Granted, I may not have gone to the mall this past week ANYWAY. It's just the knowing that I can't that drives me nuts.

My scooter guy is a peach and I know he has it on order and will call me as soon as it comes in.

I'm just missing my wheels...

Election

It's that time again. Time to start deciding who will make the best president of these United States.

Personally, I just want to trade them all in on new models. I am looking at the lesser of the evils, rather than someone I can really believe in.

This may just be the year. Yep, it's something I've always been tempted to do on a ballot, but never quite had the nerve. I may "write-in" a candidate.








Alfred E. Newman, anyone?

Blowout

I had a blowout yesterday. Not on my van tire, but my scooter tire.

I can't complain. I have had my little red scooter since 2001 and this is the first problem I have ever had with a tire. I was cruising around Borders, just having a grand old time. I headed over to the coffee shop part of the store to get my friend Sharon some dark chocolate covered coffee beans for a happy, got almost to the rack, and my scooter would not stop!

I had visions of having to pay for an entire rack of cheesy mugs and various coffee related treats and having to return my CD's of Wicked, You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown, and Once Upon a Mattress to the shelves so that I would have the money to do so!

Fortunately, my scooter stopped about an inch away from said rack. The young coffee shop attendant and I both breathed a sigh of relief. I looked down at my tire and it was a pitiful, sideways sight.

Of course, my van with the lift required to load my scooter was half a mall away at Belk where I had previously made an unsuccessful search for dress pants. Why are dress pants that FIT so hard to find? Fortunately, the attendant was able to contact the security guard, who gave me a lift back to my van. Then I had the adventure of trying to maneuver my very UN-maneuverable scooter into the back of it.

All this exercise made me hungry, so I went through the drive-thru at Chick-fil-A and got myself and the friend who was waiting for me to pick her up at the hospital a sandwich and some of those yummy waffle fries. I am on a constant diet and very seldom eat fries, but I decided to indulge.

So, what happens next? The car in front of me slams on brakes, causing me to have to do the same. ALL of those lovely, golden, hot waffle fries went tumbling out of the bag and onto my not so clean floor.

French Fries $1.19
New Scooter Tire $50.00

Being able to see the humor in the situation...

Priceless

Carry

"Carry" is a word my maternal grandmother used a lot. A nurse in a small Mississippi town, Mamaw would carry people to the hospital. She even had a spiffy maroon Barracuda with a fold down seat that she used to transport the sick to the local emergency room before the advent of reliable ambulance service.

Mamaw would also carry food to the sick and bereaved. She carried the "old people" who were often younger than SHE was, to the doctor, the grocery store, and to church.

My mother was my grandmother's only child. She was a nurse as well, and inherited the "carry" gene. Before she became chronically ill, Mama carried people to the doctor and the grocery store. Even after Mama became quite ill, if she heard about an illness or death in our circle of community and friends, she would get out of bed, cook, and carry food.

My sister and I are third generation "carriers." With two children and a full time job, my sister is mostly a food carrier. She may not cook all her food from scratch, but she knows where the best takeout is.

And I am a carrier. It is just in my nature. I carry people to the doctor and the hospital. I carry food, usually homemade, to the sick and bereaved. I get more stressed at the thought of NOT being able to do these things than I ever get at DOING them.

I really feel like carrying is in my blood. Being able to do this honors the memories of both my mother and my grandmother. This apple did not fall far from the tree.

So, I carry. And carry on.

Twick

Actually, her given name was Martha. Nobody ever called her that, though. It was always "Twick." This gracious lady was a staunch supporter of me and my music. Hers was the face I looked for in the congregation for encouragement.

Twick passed away on Thursday of cancer. Lung cancer. She had none of the risk factors. Just one of those unexplainable things.

I was honored to be asked to sing for Twick's funeral service today. It was quite an occasion. Four members of the clergy, two lay speakers, two soloists, and a jazz trumpeter were all part of the service that Twick had spent her last weeks planning.

I got through my solo. I was behind a huge stand of flowers and had difficulty seeing the family. I was handcuffed by my choir director's wish for piano accompaniment to a song that begged to be allowed the freedom of being sung a cappella. Asthma, MG, and exhaustion worked together to make breathing more difficult than usual. Although I know few, if any, in the congregation noticed, I was left feeling frustrated and unsatisfied with what I wanted to be my very best effort.

All I can do now is pray that God took my less than perfect effort and made it good enough.

At least for Twick.

Alone Again

My husband is working, so I ate Sunday lunch today alone.

I would love to occasionally be able to go out with friends for lunch on Sunday when this is the case. But, the problem is, most of them go to the casinos to eat. Even the Methodists. I don't go to the casinos.

Back when the people of my city were trying to vote to make Riverboat gambling legal, my pastor at the time took the typical Methodist stance against it. But, some church people, many of whom had much to gain financially, wanted gambling voted in. This all resulted in causing a split in my church that has yet to fully heal.

I never wanted any part of the casinos. I voted against them. True to predictions, our crime rate has gone up and social service agencies are overwhelmed with people who have gambled away the welfare or child support checks and need help feeding their families for the rest of the month.

My husband and I seem to be the only hold outs in our respective families. We have missed parties, family gatherings, and opportunities to be with friends. It gets a bit lonely sometimes. But we have to do what is right for us.

At least I enjoy my own company. :)

Dungy

Wow! My cup runneth over as far as football is concerned. First, LSU wins the National Championship. Then, Eli makes it to the Super Bowl. Now, much the delight of legions of Indianapolis Colts fans, myself included, Tony Dungy has agreed to come back and coach at least ONE more year.

In the world of professional sports, class is sometimes at a premium. But the Indianapolis Colts have it in Spades with Tony Dungy both on and off the field.

Peyton might even be doing a happy dance.



Nah.

Eli

A Manning is going to the Super Bowl and it ain't Peyton.

If anyone had said to me at the beginning of this season that Peyton's baby brother would be going to the Super Bowl while Peyton watched, I would not have believed it. Eli has been in the shadow of his big brother all his young life. The name Manning may open doors, but it brings an awful lot of pressure as well.

Eli's daddy is Ole Miss legend Archie Manning. It is hard to explain to anyone not from around here what "Archiemania" was like in those days. Even those of us who did not root for Ole Miss had a soft spot for the polite, soft spoken young man from Drew, Mississippi. We were happy when he was drafted by the New Orleans Saints, who were the closest thing Mississippians had to a "home" team.

But, New Orleans was never able to build a decent team around Archie and he played almost his entire career being the only good player on a team so bad that fans wore paper bags over their heads to the games. He tried to play a couple of other places, but by that time his oft sacked and weary body just wasn't up to it anymore. He left the pro game, never realizing his potential.

When the draft threatened to put Eli in the same position his daddy had been in years before, Archie stepped in to try to keep that from happening. It might not have been the smartest move, but it was certainly motivated by concern for his son's future. I think Eli's behavior on draft day had more to do with Archie than Eli himself.

Since then, I think Eli has shown that he is willing to do what it takes to grow into his name and family legacy. Even if he does not win the Super Bowl, (and I am by no means counting him out) I think he has shown the football world that he too has the talent and heart to take his rightful place in Manning history.

I wish him the best.

Geaux Tigers!!! National Champs!

GEAUX TIGERS!!!

The LSU Tigers are the 2007 National Champions!

After a REALLY crummy week, this is a real cheerer-upper!

My T-shirt is ordered. With apologies to my fellow football fans, I am gonna milk this for all it is worth!

Tee-Wee

My dad came home from a morning hunt with the news that our former maid and nanny had passed away this morning at the age of 92. He went by her house to take her some deer meat and got the news from her foster son, Calvin.

Some of my earliest memories in life are of Tee-Wee. We moved to Russum, Mississippi when I was 3 years old, my brother 2, and my sis was still an infant. Daddy hired Tee-Wee to help my mama and to take care of us during the day. My brother would bang on the table with his fork and spoon, demanding that Tee-Wee make him "battercakes." She never failed to oblige. Those hands that could wring a chicken's neck in seconds, gently wiped away tears when we fell prey to ordinary childhood hurts. Tee-Wee could not pronounce my sister Tammy's name so she became "Tangy baby."

Like most folks around there, we struggled to make ends meet. Tee-Wee and her husband, John, gave us free rein of their fields of corn and peas. They brought us baskets of blackberries in season. In return, we took them to town to get groceries, and when boycotts threatened, we did their grocery shopping for them. In that much simpler time, despite the racism of other places, tiny Russum was an oasis. If we recognized someone, black or white, walking to town, we offered them a ride. If we had plenty, we shared. Everybody looked after everyone else's kids. Race simply was not an issue there.

Tee-Wee's passing is more than the passing of a person. It is the passing of an era.

An era that I miss.

The End

I got the call this evening. Louise's family, faced with overwhelming evidence against any hope of a quality life for her, decided to disconnect the machines keeping her alive and allow her to go to Heaven in peace.

For her family's sake, I am thankful that Louise made it through the holidays. I am thankful that there was enough of a reprieve for her to see her children one last time. I am glad that she got to see the roses that I had bought her on Christmas Eve and stubbornly stored in the refrigerator until I could take them to her in a room.

And I am glad that I was allowed to know Louise and to be a part of her life.

Thank-You Note

Today I got a Thank-You note in the mail, and it tore my heart out.

Thank-you notes are usually something that I enjoy getting. Heck, I find it a real treat to get anything that is neither junk mail, nor a bill!

Now Martha is the kind of proper Southern lady who never lets a kindness go by without acknowledging it in writing. Martha has written me a number of notes over the years. But this one was written for Martha, in whose honor I made a donation to Heifer International, by her son.

Now, if you are not from the South, you must understand that for a proper Southern lady to let someone else write a note for her, she must be close to death.

And Martha is dying. Her friends know that she has been battling cancer for over a year. But recently, she decided to stop treatments and live the life she has left in relative peace and comfort. Her family is guarding her privacy and no one really knows how much time Martha has left.

But, after getting a Thank-You note written by her son, I have to think that Martha will be going home.

Soon.

Imagine

No, despite the title, this is not a post about John Lennon or the song, which I do love, by the way.

Just for a moment, I want you to imagine yourself waking up one morning. At first you feel OK. You make your way to the kitchen to get your breakfast and choke on your cereal. You forget eating and decide to try for a shower. You get your shower, struggle into your robe and collapse on the couch, exhausted. Forget the hair and makeup. That will have to wait, if it gets done at all. You are having trouble breathing. Your vision is blurred or doubled. Your legs feel like jello.

You know something is wrong. You go to the doctor. He calls it "stress" and tries to give you tranquilizers. You don't buy it and you keep going to doctors for the next two years until someone finally figures it out.

You have myasthenia gravis, a neuromuscular disease that causes muscles to fatigue easily and become weak. If you have a type that does not respond well to medication, your life has changed dramatically.

I have been diagnosed with this disease for the past 8 years. Looking back, I know I had it several years before I was diagnosed.

But, I am not writing this in an attempt to gain sympathy.

What I want you to do is imagine.

Imagine yourself being diagnosed tomorrow with an incurable neuromuscular disease that will change your life forever.

What would you do differently TODAY?

Just imagine.

Reprieve

My friend has been weaned off her ventilator and is breathing on her own. Not only breathing, but getting ornery enough to remove her own feeding tube and ask where folks are. Louise is "in there."

Her family and friends do not have to face losing her right at Christmas time. No life or death decisions are having to be made at this point. I am thankful for this.

And, in rallying, I think my friend is OK with being here with us for a while longer.

And I am glad.

Another Christmas Eve

I got up early this morning to buy roses. Not much would get me up early, but my friend, Louise, was not feeling well and I wanted to surprise her with a bouquet of her favorite flowers. I found a lovely bunch of cream colored tea roses and called her daughter to find out what might be a good time to deliver them.

To my dismay, I found out that my friend had just been taken to the hospital, where she is in ICU with congestive heart failure. Many people survive this, but my friend is 92. At that age, anything like this is very serious and quite likely, fatal.

When I saw Louise, lying in her bed, her breathing aided by a ventilator, my mind immediately went back in time to a Christmas 17 years ago. My mother was the one lying in bed, hooked to a ventilator, and dying of congestive heart failure. The nurses wore Santa hats and had the nurses station decorated in an attempt to cheer both themselves and the people waiting that Christmas Day. The effect was a bit surreal.

I try to pray, but I don't even know what to ask for. This precious lady is tired. Her husband of 62 years lies unresponsive in a nursing home. She has expressed her wish to go "home" to several of her friends, including me.

But, I am selfish. I don't want to lose another loved one. Especially not on Christmas Day. But, her family and I know what SHE wants.

And that is really all that counts.

Another Christmas, Another Cantata

Another Christmas cantata in the done column. If my reckoning is correct, this was # 22. I missed one the year I had severe laryngitis, but have been present for all the other ones.

The Christmas cantata is sort of a love/hate thing with me. I love to sing. There is no doubt about that. I love Christmas music.

I hate long rehearsals, choir director tantrums, and not being able to get all the musicians together at one time long enough to REALLY perfect things.

Every year, I fantasize about just not doing it this year. Just relax one Christmas and enjoy the season without the hassles participating in the cantata. But I just can't QUITE make myself not do it.

Ultimately, it boils down to this.

I love Jesus and I do it for Him.

LSU going for the National Championship!

What a wonderful early Christmas gift! LSU is going to play in the National Championship game!

This year has been the most exciting SEC football season I can remember. The lesser teams have made the better ones WORK for their wins and kept most of the games pretty exciting.

LSU has played with heart this whole season. Teams have had to make it to triple OT to beat them. And several players have played injured, trying to hang on. Ryan Perilloux, backup to the injured Matt Flynn, had to go have his blood soaked bandages changed between possessions when they played for the SEC championship last night. Glenn Dorsey, clearly hobbled, played until he just couldn't play anymore.

Now, it is time for them to take some time off and get healthy so they can put away Ohio State in January.

Geaux Tigers!!!

Give Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

OK, I can't resist. With Christmas approaching, please allow me the indulgence of being "the therapist" for a few moments.

I am already hearing people talk about how much they are dreading the holidays. They are worried about finding gifts, dealing with family members, time crunches, etc.

Losing my mom on Christmas Day really put this holiday into sharp focus for me. Now, it is much easier to decide what is REALLY important and what to let go of.

Some suggestions:

1. If the gift giving has gotten out of hand, talk to family members about paring things down. There will usually be a whiner or two about this. It is OK to tell them that you just can't continue this for financial, time, etc. reasons. Let them pout if they want to. They will get over it. Seriously!

2. KNOW that when a family gets together, members are going to fall right back into the patterns of childhood to a certain extent. If this is NOT a good thing, you can CHOOSE to react differently, not spend as much time with them as you think you need to, etc. It is OK. The world will not end, no matter how much of a fuss they make.

3. Don't over commit. Different people have different tolerances for how much they can physically and emotionally handle during the holidays. You DON'T have to accept every invitation, singing gig, etc. Again, the world will not end if you say NO.

4. Take time for yourself. This is NOT a sin. If you feel overwhelmed, find SOME way of carving out space and time for you. Even if this means staying home while the rest of the family goes to an event. If staying home from the annual Christmas Eve brunch with people you don't particularly enjoy will make you more rested and able to enjoy Christmas with people that you DO enjoy, do it.

Give yourself a Merry Christmas. You deserve it.

Lecture over.

Thanksgiving

This year, my Thanksgiving was spent with my husband's family. My husband is the middle child of 5 and their birth order traits are so typical, they are textbook.

Alice is the oldest child. She is a typical high achieving, responsible first born. Shopping list in hand, it is Alice who usually the first to arrive. Wal-Mart on the Wednesday before Turkey Day? I wouldn't do it for all the tea in China. Alice charges in and finds creative ways to get her groceries despite the crowds and people blocking the aisles to chit chat.

Mike is the next child and the oldest boy. Sweet, handsome, and secure, he is the epitome of the first BOY born to the family. He has a way of asking for things so charmingly that the women wait on him without resentment. It's a gift.

Bill, my husband and the middle child is typical in that he craves attention, and guards his resources. He lights up when I make cookies for him to share with the guys at work or go out of my way to make a favorite meal or find some little something that I think he might like.

Jerry, the youngest of the boys is the family clown. He is funny and tends to see the lighter side of most things. He takes life's difficulties in stride.

Becky, the youngest child, is cheerful and sunny. Not much ruffles her feathers. Because she is 5 years younger than Jerry, she has taken on many traits of an "oldest." Becky was one of my best friends in High School and introduced me to Bill.

I am truly blessed in that I like all my in-laws and their present spouses. We have no feuding or fussing at family gatherings. I'm not saying that everything is perfect, but we all try to be tolerant of our differences while enjoying our similarities.

And that is something to be thankful for!

Turning it Off

My name is Karen. I am a counselor.

I try very hard NOT to be a counselor when I am with family, friends, or acquaintances. I have to admit, sometimes it is hard. When someone has a problem, there are still times when I want to swoop in there, clarify the problem and help find solutions. But, when I am not on the job, that is not my "job."

But, it is not always that easy. Ethically, I have to take any threats/thoughts of suicide or homicide seriously, whether the person is my client or not. This is in my code of ethics and I have no problem with this. And, if asked specifically for advice by a non-client, I will give it. It is not my job to give advice to clients.

However, I find that I DO use my skills in less obtrusive ways. Selective inattention is a counseling tool that I use to avoid reinforcing maladaptive behaviors. I seldom respond to fishing for compliments. I will not beg someone to come back after he or she has expressed a wish to leave my company. I don't excuse behavior that is "pseudo" thoughtless.

A quote I read once said: "Be chary of giving advice. Fools won't heed it, and wise men don't need it."

Words to live by.

Especially if one is a counselor.

Wishbook?

Wishbook???

This thin catalog I got from Sears today? Surely not!

I remember when the Sears Wishbook was thick as a big city telephone book. My siblings and I would grab it from the mailbox and crowd around it as we looked at pictures of the toys we wanted Santa to bring us. My brother usually wanted things like chemistry sets. My little sister wanted a rocking horse.

Me? I wanted BARBIE. Not only Barbie, I wanted the Ken, the Dream House, the clothes, the carrying case...

You name it. If it had to do with Barbie, I wanted it. My first one, no doubt ordered from the Sears catalog, had three wigs. On any given night, Ken could sleep with a blond, a brunette, OR a redhead. My favorite gift ever from my maternal grandmother was a box full of beautiful handmade Barbie clothes. She had made evening gowns sparkly with sequins, satin evening coats, you name it. And NOBODY else I knew had anything like them. They made the commercially available Barbie clothes look like things Stacey and Clinton would toss in the garbage can.

So, I took a look in this "excuse" for a Wishbook. Barbie was in there, but relegated to half a page and only as one of those "sit on the shelf and look pretty" dolls. What's the fun of THAT?

It looks like the big, thick, luscious Wishbook is a thing of the past. More's the pity.

Geaux Tigers!

Whew! LSU just pulled a CLOSE one out against arch rival Alabama! It was an ugly win, but it was a win!

I have to admit that I am even happier about this win than usual. Les Miles has had to put up with comparisons to Nick Saban, claims that the only reason he has had any success is due to players being recruited by Saban, etc.

Now granted, Saban has done a remarkable job with Alabama this year. But, he is hamstrung by having to deal with the lesser players recruited by HIS predecessor.

But, I think now, having won head to head, Miles can at least claim SOME credit for the development of the talent, even if he did not do the recruiting. And maybe at least some of the monkey is off his back.

There is talk of Miles taking off for Michigan should the opportunity arise. This would be close to "home" for him and I would not blame him if he took it.

If this is his last season, at least he is making it an exciting one for Tiger fans. And, for that, I thank him.

You Can go Home Again

Last Sunday was the 200th anniversary of the Presbyterian congregation in Port Gibson, Mississippi. I was a member of this congregation from age 3 to age 8 when we lived in this city that General Grant himself declared "Too beautiful to burn."

I had no sooner walked into the annex (which had once been a presbyterian school, but is now the fellowship hall and Sunday school area) than I was intercepted by the church organist. Now, Miss Betty has been a fixture of this church since I was a child, but she continues to fill that organ bench every Sunday with style and skill. Of course, I agreed (say NO to Miss Betty??? I think not!) and a robe and folder were quickly found for me. My mother sang in this same choir 45 years ago. I felt like I was standing in for her, in a way.

As I was over at the piano in the Annex, picking out my part, I was joined by another soprano voice. I looked up to see Beth, one of the daughters of the preacher, Brother Daniels, who was there when I was a member of Port Gibson Presbyterian. Squeals and hugs ensued as Beth let me know that Miss Betty had recruited both her and her older sister, Melanie, for choir duty.

Being in the Annex together brought back memories of a children's fellowship group that we used to attend together on Wednesday afternoons. After a snack of cookies and Kool-Aid, we would sing "Follow the Gleam" and "Tell Me the Stories of Jesus." I know we must have sung other songs, but those are the ones I remember.

There were 5 Daniels kids. Alan, Melanie, Beth, Stephanie, and Quenton. Beth and Stephanie were close to my age and we used to play together before and after the children's fellowship at the manse (Presbyterian for parsonage).

And, of course, Beth and Stephanie had to remind me of the infamous "swing incident." Hanging from a great big tree in the side yard of the manse was one of those swings made out of a board with a rope in the middle. One day, Beth and Stephanie turned me around and around on the swing and then let me go. However, my best "Her Majesty" panties wrapped around the rope the OTHER way and I was STUCK! Miss Earline (Beth and Stephanie's) mama had to come cut my panties out of that swing. Pretty humiliating for a 6 year old!

It also happened to be Brother Daniel's 80th birthday, so a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" was sung to him right in the middle of church. He was in his element, surrounded by all of his children and many of his grandchildren and great grandchildren. The only person missing was his unflappable wife, Miss Earline, and I am sure she was beaming down on him from Heaven.

Afterwards was the covered dish dinner that is a staple of Southern church affairs. I indulged in a glass of sweet tea and set out to visit with everyone I could.

I was home.

Beautiful Things

When my husband suggested that we go to the Mississippi Museum of Art's exhibition of "Between God and Man: Angels in Italian Art" I have to admit, I nearly dropped the newspaper I was reading. He usually disagrees with artistic portrayals of angels, while I am comforted by these same portrayals. They give me something tangible to wrap my mind. I need tangible.

I also literally NEED beauty. I can become depressed to the point of physical illness when forced to spend prolonged periods in ugly environments. I got so disgusted with the waiting room of the counseling center I worked in when I was in grad school, I organized a bake sale to pay for paint and lobbied the administration for new furniture.

So looking at rooms of beautiful angels was right up my alley. Even if my husband insists that they don't really have wings.

He needs to watch "A Wonderful Life" one more time.

Right, Clarence?

Another View of St. Louis

I recently visited St. Louis to meet a group of friends from my belove Weight Watcher thread RML. This used to stand for "Run My Life" as we would pose questions to our fellow posters for help in making decisions. Now, we just get together daily to support one another in both our weight loss journeys and in our lives.

Since my MG diagnosis, get-togethers, while still enjoyable, are a tiny bit bittersweet. Some of the places that others visit are off limits to me. I have to go to bed early while the partying is still going on. Fatigue puts me into more of an observation mode that a participatory one at times. Even on my scooter, I can't always keep up.

But, there were some advantages to being obliged to take things at a slower pace and not being able to stay with the crowd. Some one on one time with a particularly dear friend who chose not to participate in an activity was precious. Being able to appreciate the very quiet, but VERY dry wit of another friend was also a lovely surprise. It was interesting to sit back and watch which combinations of personalities seemed to mesh into even closer friendships.

And I was blessed.

Preacher

Sometimes a minister comes along who becomes known to most of the adults in his congregation simply as "Preacher." Not Don, not Reverend W., but Preacher.

The former minister of my church, "Preacher", was called in to preach this morning in the absence of our regular clergyman. I did not realize just how much I have missed this man until I saw him in the pulpit today, singing the hymns with gusto, giving the choir the "thumbs up" after the anthem, and preaching a real, three point sermon with Biblical references throughout.

Preacher was more than a preacher. He was also a PASTOR. That means he visited the sick and shut in. He listened to the members of his congregation when they needed to talk. He treated his wife with courtesy, love, and dignity.

And, he stood up for me.

For ten years, out of fear and lack of skills to know how to handle the situation, I had been the recipient of unwanted attentions from a "pillar" of our church who was a member of the staff. These unwanted attentions ranged from being inappropriately touched to being backed up against a wall in an empty Sunday School classroom. The man was 40 years my senior and I was afraid that no one would believe my word against his if I said anything. So, I kept my mouth shut.

Until one day, bolstered by therapy and the realization that I did not have to just "take it" I went to Preacher. I told him that if that man touched me ONE more time, I was going to deck him.

Preacher took a long look at me, and said "Be my guest!" He also told me that he would stand by me if I wanted to make a complaint to staff-parish. I was amazed at the "no questions asked" support I got from this precious man.

As is customary in the Methodist church, Preacher's time with our church came to an end, and he went on to bless another church with his presence. We have had "Preachers" since then, but, alas, no one who deserves the title of "Pastor."

But, just for today, we had Preacher. And, once again, I was blessed.

Another Manning Sunday...

Anybody who knows me very well, knows that I am a longtime "Manning" fan. I rooted for Archie when he was the only good player on a very bad Saints team. I would have started rooting for him earlier, but played his college ball at Ole Miss. Nuff said!

Now, Archie's sons, Peyton and Eli are carrying on the Manning Legacy. Peyton, already a future Hall of Famer, is the quarterback for the reigning Super Bowl Champion Indianapolis Colts. Eli appears to be coming into his own as third year quarterback of the New York Giants.

Of course, I am impressed by the Mannings' football accomplishments. But, I am more impressed with the way they handle themselves away from the field. Peyton is the National Spokesman for Court Appointed Special Advocates cause, a charity that helps foster children learn to make the right decisions and lead healthy lifestyles. He is also involved in the YMCA and Special Olympics. Eli Manning is involved with Feed the Children, and For the Kidz.

Another thing about the Mannings that impresses me, particularly in this day and age, is that you never see them in the headlines for DUI, domestic violence, drugs, or any of the other pitfalls that other professional athletes encounter on a regular basis. The Mannings realize that, like it or not, kids are looking up to them. And they try to set a good example.

Don't get me wrong. The Mannings are not perfect. There was some bad press about Archie not wanting San Diego to draft Eli. Even Eli and Peyton occasionally lose their tempers. But in these days of the likes of Terrell Owens, Ricky Williams, and Adam (Pacman) Jones, Peyton and Eli look pretty darn good to me.

And they sure make Sunday afternoons something to talk about.

Are You Ready for Some Football???

Conversation in Mississippi has now turned from "the heat" to football.

Now I know a lot of people just don't understand the Southern obsession with SEC football. These folks sneer at our favorite Fall pastime and wonder why we are not more concerned with "the Problems of the World."

Well, Monday through Friday, we are concerned with the "Problems of the World." SEC football fans work a variety of jobs. We are counselors, booksellers, people who help administer programs to help provide shelter so that low income people can have decent homes, schoolteachers, and nurses. We provide for our families and take part in church and civic organizations.

But on Saturday, we deserve a chance to kick back and enjoy "our" teams. Rivalry is largely good natured. Football gives us something to talk about besides the "Problems of the World," most of which we can't solve anyway.

So I'll yell Geaux Tigers and wave my purple and gold pom-poms as long as I am able.

And long live the SEC!

The Heat!

Well, it is August in Mississippi and there is only one real topic of conversation.

The heat.

We really can't complain that much. It had been an unusually mild summer for us until August. That's when the record temps decided to come out of hiding and gang up on us all at once.

But there are some advantages.

* I have a legitimate reason not to cook. Don't want to heat up the house and drive up the electricity bill ya know. ;)
* I have an excuse to spend more time playing on the computer.
* I have actually made a dent in the natural disaster area that is also known as my office.

Now if you'll excuse me,

I'm Mellllllltttiinnnnngggggg...

Whew II

Dad called. His cancer has NOT spread. Treatment options will be discussed later in the month. Thankfully, the fact that this is contained makes those much more varied and considerably less invasive.

Stepmom is already researching treatment options on the internet and printing things out for Dad to read. I am amazed at what is available now that wasn't even five years ago when Dad battled this cancer demon for the first time.

So, I finally breathe out that BIG sigh of relief.

Whew!

Saying Goodbye

My Episcopal priest friend recently announced that she is leaving her church in Vicksburg to answer the call of a new church in a nearby town. I am happy that she is going to a much better situation, but will be sad to see her go.

When I asked her about the possibility of getting together once she got to her new church, she made those polite excuses about probably not having time since her new church would be bigger, more to do, etc.

I can take a hint when applied with a sledgehammer. I was her friend for a season. There when she needed me as she coped with what turned out to be a very difficult parish. There to sing for special occasions. There to help come up with activities for her tiny, but dedicated, youth group.

So, I prepare to say goodbye to my friend, knowing that any future contact will probably be limited to chance meetings, if at all.

My life has been richer for knowing her. I have enjoyed our time together. And I will get over my temporary hurt and remember the joy.

Priceless Treasure!

A couple of days ago, I found a priceless treasure. Now, normally, an almost twenty year old audiotape would not be anything special. But, this one is because it is the only recording that I know of that contains my mother's voice.

I knew that I had made this tape, and that it was around somewhere. But, I was afraid to look for it and play it because of the fear that it might break.

Thanks to the miracles of modern technology, it is now possible and economically feasible to convert analog tapes to digital files on a home PC. So, after finding a tape deck at a yard sale for $5.00 and a program that would enable such a conversion, I popped tape after tape into the tape deck in hopes that it would be THE ONE.

And, after a surprising small number of attempts, I found IT. A tape made one lazy summer day on a small paddle wheel boat on the Mississippi River. Mama and Lela, a family friend were helping me learn some songs from the WWII era. My dear friend, Elizabeth Ann, also now deceased, was playing the piano. The whole tape is filled with stories being told, spontaneous bursts of song, and laughter.

I wouldn't take a million dollars for it.

So, tonight, I am going to take the CD that I made from this precious tape to my sister's house. My 14 year old niece will be able to hear her grandmother's voice for the very first time.

And I have a feeling that I will be in tears. Tears of joy.

We Spoke Too Soon

Just got the call from my dad. Despite the positive results from initial tests his cancer HAS come back.

Now we wait while more specific testing is done over the next two weeks to determine the exact location and size of the cancer we will be dealing with this time.

Dad sounds optimistic and believes he is in good hands.

I am just praying for the strength to be there for him.

Whew!

My dad called yesterday afternoon with good news. In spite of some preliminary indications, his prostate cancer has not come back. I am almost dizzy with relief!

Dad has not always had an easy life. He was married for 32 years to my mother, who was an alcoholic and who later became chronically and seriously ill for the last 12 years of their marriage. I have no doubt that he loved her, but his needs always came second to hers.

When he met and married my darling Stepmom a couple of years ago, he became a new man. He just glows. They enjoy each other's company and are always on the go. The thought of cancer intruding on this long awaited happiness made me sad and angry.

But, thankfully, cancer is not in the picture. And I can breathe again.

Badminton

I think I have created a monster.

When I went to Nashville recently, I looked for something to bring back for my husband and our neighbor Sam, to play with. I found a badminton game in a toy store there and decided that might be a fun thing for them to do.

Well, since I brought badminton to my front yard, my husband and Sam have killed one racquet, 4 birdies, and some grass. :) But, they are having a ball.

As long as Sam is around, I know my husband will stay in shape.

Thanks, Sam!

A Day with KK

Back when my niece and nephew were small, I struggled with finding ideas for gifts for them. As the only grandchildren on either side of the family, they were knee deep in toys and clothes. Not wanting to add to that pile, I devised "gift certificates" for "A Day with KK."

The kids come to my house individually and are allowed to do (ALMOST) anything they want to do that day. It may be a Cartoon Network watching marathon (God save me from Billy and Mandy!) or making peanut butter Rice Krispie treats (a perennial favorite).

With the niece yesterday, the activities are now geared for a teenager. I gave her a pedicure, showed her how to make a mandala, and did meditation exercises with her. One of her favorite meals was cooked and served on my mother's china. We took out my mother's things and I told her stories about her "Nana Broomstick" who, to my great sorrow, never got to see her precious granddaughter.

I got an e-mail last night from my niece, saying that this was one of the best days she had had all summer.

Ditto for me. :)

Losing Weight

This is what I am not doing right now. I am maintaining. I am mindful of what I eat and I am journaling. But, due to numerous meds and medical conditions, I just don't seem to be able to get over the hump to get the calories down to what it would take for further loss. I have tried the high protein, low carb thing and just could not stay on it but 4 months. Then promptly gained the weight back after beginning to eat carbs again. I realize, that with a steroid and stimulant fueled appetite that I would weigh MUCH more if I were not at least trying to do something to take control.

I actually brought up the idea of lap band surgery at my primary care doc appointment today. He told me he would be OK with making a referral, but also told me that the chances of anyone touching my high risk self would be slim and none. I would literally be risking my life to be thin.

I am actually not that unhappy with myself. But my husband wants me thin. I see the way he looks at me when he sees me with a cookie or going back for a second helping of something. I can't even begin to remember when he paid me a compliment on any aspect of my appearance. And I want to lose the weight. For him. But, am I willing to die for his approval? Sometimes, I think I would be.

And that is sad.

Really Good News!

Whew! My family has just dodged a bullet of potentially serious proportions!

Last week, my sweet stepmother had been provisionally diagnosed with myelodysplastic syndrome. In this disorder, the bone marrow does not make enough red blood cells and can transform into leukemia. Turns out, her symptoms were caused by medication she was taking for another medical problem.

I have to admit, when I heard about this diagnosis, my mind started down all kinds of paths. I could see the probability of chemo or bone marrow transplant. I could see the possibility of my precious dad having to bury another wife, the woman who truly has become like a "second mom" to me.

Then, I got a grip and started putting Stepmom on prayer lists. I refused to let my mind wander down the dark paths. I started thinking about a course of action to keep myself as healthy as possible so that I could be of service to HER, if and when she needed me.

Thankfully, I can tuck those plans away. Hopefully forever. :)

The Blahs

Today I have had an old fashioned case of the blahs. I hate it when I feel like this. With all the stuff that is going on with friends and in the world, I feel like I have NO excuse for feeling blue.

A lot of times, the blahs come from things that are pretty small in the grand scheme of things. Stuff like the husband being grumpy from weeks of a grueling schedule at work. Frustration that my body won't hold up to do all the things I want to do. Feeling like my "real life" friends are always tugging at me, but never seem to be there when *I* need to whine!

And, I feel guilty. Even though I know the blahs are a normal part of life, I don't feel like *I* am entitled to feel that way. I have a cozy house, nice vehicle, loving family, financial stability, and loads of friends. Most people would be envious of the blessings I enjoy.

I know that these blahs won't last long. They will probably be gone with a good night's sleep.

And I will be my happy self again.

Monday's Child

This morning, the leader of an online Weight Watcher thread that I am on posted a JFF question.

What day of the week were you born?

I dutifully went to the posted page and found that I am a "Monday's Child" who is supposed to be "fair of face."

Now anyone who knows me can tell you that I am no beauty queen. But, I am not totally unhappy with my looks. I have my dad's eyes and my mom's mouth. When I look in the mirror, I can tell where I come from.

When I was growing up, I was called "ugly" by my less charitable classmates. I had braces and wire rimmed glasses. I was skinny and I was awkward. I was not going to be entering the Miss Mississippi pageant.

But, a funny thing happened after I grew up. Despite struggling with my weight most of my adult life, I FEEL attractive. My mother was a large woman, but she was beautiful and made the most of her looks by dressing well, keeping her hair and makeup current and stylish, and by carrying herself with a confident air.

So, even though I am a large woman now, I learned to make the most of what I have from the master.

My mama.

Gone to Heaven

I got the news this morning. Friend Don passed away last night. I am relieved that his suffering has finally ended.

When Don's daughter got married, we took a picture of him sitting in the back of his antique green truck, in overalls, with a cardboard sign saying "Daughter just got married. Will work for food."

I can picture him now, in his overalls, sitting in his old green truck. But this time his sign says "Gone to Heaven. See y'all there."

The Wait

My friend's cancer is in it's final stages. He is having seizures and he requires heavy doses of medication to manage what has become unbearable pain. He is largely unresponsive.

So now we wait. Every time the phone rings, the hearts of his friends and family skip a beat. Sleep is fitful. Plans are tentative. We pray for a "good" death and a peaceful end to his suffering.

God, be merciful.

Holy Week

This week is one of my favorite weeks of the entire year. The week that we Christians relive the last week of the life of Jesus. The week that we go from triumphant entry into Jerusalem, to the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, and finally the Glorious Resurrection on Easter Sunday.

And this week, I will sing the "Via Dolorosa" at a local Episcopal church for the 17th year in a row on Good Friday. It is the most moving service of the entire year for me. The altar is stripped of adornment, save a rough wooden cross. Everyone enters and leaves in silence.

This week always reminds me that there is light at the end of every tunnel. I just have to walk through the darkness in faith.