Wednesday, April 28, 2010
I've moved
If you've missed me here, I'm blogging over at Wordpress, waxing poetic about trying to work up the courage to wear a bikini. Visit, comment, whatever. I'd love to see you!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
twelve christmasses
You have no idea how much I want to add photos to this, but, as I'm sure I've mentioned (or more accurately bitched repeatedly about) my lap top stubbornly refuses to open windows and upload things like pictures or charts or snazzy little apps...oh no no no...so no pictures, just my very own paint with words style
HOLIDAY STYLE!
I am woefully unprepared for Christmas this year, having 1) just recently moved and 2) working like an absolute maniac. Don't get me wrong, our tree is up (thanks, JT) and even has the lights on it, all the kids trees are up..and the advent house is set up, we've even begun baking like keebler elves and eating our results. But, presents are not bought, Christmas card is not ordered, ornaments are not on tree, house is not ready for game night...and so on...oh holiday to do list, why dost thou mock me so???
But what I really want to talk about is the last ten to twelve years with my hubby. We've exchanged so many gifts I couldn't even begin to really start telling you, but I do want to share a story about our first married Christmas, (we had one prior to being married, I will heretofore refer to it as our engaged Christmas, during which i fell ill with some sort of toxic death flu and ended up passed out on his mom's couch snoring like a freight train ...welcome to the family!) I can't remember what I wanted, but I do remember that we opened one gift on Christmas eve and I was so exited, he handed me the gift and I ripped of the paper and ....my shoulders dropped, it was Ray Romanos book, (bear in mind, the book had just came out in 2000 and so was a little more exiting, but, honestly..not much)
A little background..I love books.. and I love comedy, so thought my sweet, caring husband, what is better than a book by a comedian??? nothing, but from your newlywed husband? It might as well have been an iron for all the romance it conjured. I wasn't upset, I just wasn't amped up about it and well, Mr. Observant could tell, and so we did a lot of this
'I'm so sorry..'
'Don't be sorry..I really like it.'
'But you're not crazy about it.'
'It's great.'<------dead voice,
'I'm really sorry'
'It's fine, really'
I think you get the point.
He's really hit it out of the part with my gifts before, as a matter of fact on our engaged Christmas, he not only bought me this gorgeous butterfly necklace, he also bought me birthstone and diamond earrings...for the SAME CHRISTMAS, so you see my point right? The very next Christmas ...Ray Romano?
OK, I will leave poor Ray alone and say this..I still have that book, and almost every Christmas, we make some joke about someones gift being a Ray...it's become part of the texture and fabric that makes our marriage work. The big thing being that both M and I have a great sense of humor about ourselves, we know we mess up and are not perfect, and well, when we do, it's sometimes funny.
I hope everyone gets just what they want this year!
Happy Christmas..
Ps..maybe you should expect new years cards this year...
*R
HOLIDAY STYLE!
I am woefully unprepared for Christmas this year, having 1) just recently moved and 2) working like an absolute maniac. Don't get me wrong, our tree is up (thanks, JT) and even has the lights on it, all the kids trees are up..and the advent house is set up, we've even begun baking like keebler elves and eating our results. But, presents are not bought, Christmas card is not ordered, ornaments are not on tree, house is not ready for game night...and so on...oh holiday to do list, why dost thou mock me so???
But what I really want to talk about is the last ten to twelve years with my hubby. We've exchanged so many gifts I couldn't even begin to really start telling you, but I do want to share a story about our first married Christmas, (we had one prior to being married, I will heretofore refer to it as our engaged Christmas, during which i fell ill with some sort of toxic death flu and ended up passed out on his mom's couch snoring like a freight train ...welcome to the family!) I can't remember what I wanted, but I do remember that we opened one gift on Christmas eve and I was so exited, he handed me the gift and I ripped of the paper and ....my shoulders dropped, it was Ray Romanos book, (bear in mind, the book had just came out in 2000 and so was a little more exiting, but, honestly..not much)
A little background..I love books.. and I love comedy, so thought my sweet, caring husband, what is better than a book by a comedian??? nothing, but from your newlywed husband? It might as well have been an iron for all the romance it conjured. I wasn't upset, I just wasn't amped up about it and well, Mr. Observant could tell, and so we did a lot of this
'I'm so sorry..'
'Don't be sorry..I really like it.'
'But you're not crazy about it.'
'It's great.'<------dead voice,
'I'm really sorry'
'It's fine, really'
I think you get the point.
He's really hit it out of the part with my gifts before, as a matter of fact on our engaged Christmas, he not only bought me this gorgeous butterfly necklace, he also bought me birthstone and diamond earrings...for the SAME CHRISTMAS, so you see my point right? The very next Christmas ...Ray Romano?
OK, I will leave poor Ray alone and say this..I still have that book, and almost every Christmas, we make some joke about someones gift being a Ray...it's become part of the texture and fabric that makes our marriage work. The big thing being that both M and I have a great sense of humor about ourselves, we know we mess up and are not perfect, and well, when we do, it's sometimes funny.
I hope everyone gets just what they want this year!
Happy Christmas..
Ps..maybe you should expect new years cards this year...
*R
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Day three of NaNoWriMO and more secrets bout me!!
So I'm hovering around five thousand words, which is AWESOME! I've decided to reward myself with a new hoodie if I make my 13, 000 by this weekend.....
My favorite childhood memory is picnicking with my family. We would go to Mt. Mitchell or to Hot Springs or to Chimney Rock and eat cold fried chicken (my Dad would fry it early and pack it in his tupperware lunch box) and mustardy potato salad and girl scout cookies an whatever else was packed. We would hike and sometimes fish or just hang out.
I suppose this is not a deep dark secret but it's fun to think about the things that were fun growing up, it seems so much that we do with our children costs so much money when really all they need is a little bit of time.
Have a great tuesday
*R
My favorite childhood memory is picnicking with my family. We would go to Mt. Mitchell or to Hot Springs or to Chimney Rock and eat cold fried chicken (my Dad would fry it early and pack it in his tupperware lunch box) and mustardy potato salad and girl scout cookies an whatever else was packed. We would hike and sometimes fish or just hang out.
I suppose this is not a deep dark secret but it's fun to think about the things that were fun growing up, it seems so much that we do with our children costs so much money when really all they need is a little bit of time.
Have a great tuesday
*R
Monday, November 2, 2009
NaNoWriMo or the girl next door.
I may have mentioned I'm a story collector, I harvest peoples stories and store them for later to dissect and antidote somehow in later writing.
Oh, I'm not always doing it, but a lot of the time, I'm totally stealing your funny stuff, but in honor of NOVEMBER, which is of course NaNoWriMo time, I'm going to lay it bare, each time I blog I'm going to come clean with a story about me, embarrassing, funny, real...whatever.
Because my medium is fiction I'm going to amp it up with some non fiction to balance it out!
My first antidote:
My kindergarten year I was so sick on Egg Hunt day that I had to lay in the nurses office and listen to the other kids hunt eggs. My mountain school was so small that the cot for sickies was in the teachers lounge, the eggs were hidden in the side fenced yard for the kindergarteners, my best friend for that year, April snuck in and brought me an egg filled with chocolate kisses, (a huge sacrifice!) which I threw up later that night. I will always remember wearing a pretty yellow dress that day and being so exited that I got sick!
some things just stick with you.....
more writing!
go NaNoWriMO's!
*R
Oh, I'm not always doing it, but a lot of the time, I'm totally stealing your funny stuff, but in honor of NOVEMBER, which is of course NaNoWriMo time, I'm going to lay it bare, each time I blog I'm going to come clean with a story about me, embarrassing, funny, real...whatever.
Because my medium is fiction I'm going to amp it up with some non fiction to balance it out!
My first antidote:
My kindergarten year I was so sick on Egg Hunt day that I had to lay in the nurses office and listen to the other kids hunt eggs. My mountain school was so small that the cot for sickies was in the teachers lounge, the eggs were hidden in the side fenced yard for the kindergarteners, my best friend for that year, April snuck in and brought me an egg filled with chocolate kisses, (a huge sacrifice!) which I threw up later that night. I will always remember wearing a pretty yellow dress that day and being so exited that I got sick!
some things just stick with you.....
more writing!
go NaNoWriMO's!
*R
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
I'm fine.
In my line of work-that is, the service industry, I get asked every single day how I am...I say the same phrase almost without fail...I'm fine, thanks so much for asking.
and I am, fine that is. Physically (although I could still stand to drop a few pounds) I'm healthy, I eat well, I see well, and hear perfectly fine, all my fingers and toes work and most of the time my brain is engaged. I have a happy healthy family. We are in no physical pain. We have cars that work and fruits and veggies and a warm and caring extended family. We have what we need, and a good bit of what we want.
but sometimes, like right now, I'm not fine.
I lie.
I'm frustrated, I'm worried and I'm frightened.
I'm frustrated that I can't get as much done as I'd like, I'm worried that I won't get it all done before we move and I'm frightened that things could get worse.
I know when people say, How are you? Most often they are being polite and I adore all things mannerly and polite and to respond I'm fine is more polite than saying I'm so stressed out it feels like I'm swallowing sand sometimes.
but, once in awhile I mean it, I am fine. I am at peace, the very core of me, where I carry my assurance that everything is OK, is still and calm. I relish these moments, because I know, deep down, things are fine, that I'm good, that it will work out, and when I say I'm fine....
it will be true.
and I am, fine that is. Physically (although I could still stand to drop a few pounds) I'm healthy, I eat well, I see well, and hear perfectly fine, all my fingers and toes work and most of the time my brain is engaged. I have a happy healthy family. We are in no physical pain. We have cars that work and fruits and veggies and a warm and caring extended family. We have what we need, and a good bit of what we want.
but sometimes, like right now, I'm not fine.
I lie.
I'm frustrated, I'm worried and I'm frightened.
I'm frustrated that I can't get as much done as I'd like, I'm worried that I won't get it all done before we move and I'm frightened that things could get worse.
I know when people say, How are you? Most often they are being polite and I adore all things mannerly and polite and to respond I'm fine is more polite than saying I'm so stressed out it feels like I'm swallowing sand sometimes.
but, once in awhile I mean it, I am fine. I am at peace, the very core of me, where I carry my assurance that everything is OK, is still and calm. I relish these moments, because I know, deep down, things are fine, that I'm good, that it will work out, and when I say I'm fine....
it will be true.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
What if Weekend
I have a million stories. I love stories. I think it may be what drives me to want to be a writer. I love hearing new stories, My brother, who is a police officer is a well of stories that constantly make me say, I just can't believe it. My Dad, when he tells a story, has this great boyish smile that makes the whole story better and you can't wait to be in on the joke. I love listening to family stories, work stories, church stories, funny stories, serious, heart wrenching stories. And sometimes I pull from my well of stories when I'm stuck or blocked or completely stalled as I have been for the last two weeks. I play the what if game. What if my character fell in love/fell out of love/watched a Disney movie?
I love to play this game in real life, it's a part of my love of a story. I make up stories about people in waiting rooms with me, what if they are on their way to buy a new car, a new dog? I play what if with my life as well, what if I didn't love my children more than my own skin? What if I hadn't met my husband when I did? What if I publish a book? What if I don't?
I play with M, but he tires of it far before I do, what if we won the lottery? What if we were handed everything, what if we didn't know the value of work, and appreciate all we had? What if I publish something to great reviews or to terrible reviews? What if something happens to one of us?
I play with my kids, although they get bored with one round and want a cupcake or a hug, what if we have to move again? What if we can't go on vacation or rent movies?
I love this game, but not only does it get exhausting trying to figure out all the possibilities, it's frustrating to figure out the 'right' thing.
Especially when you are stuck on a puzzle piece of a story. How do I get from point a to point b to the conclusion? Where is my character going and What if I get it all wrong?
I am playing what if this weekend for one of my characters and I wonder will she figure out she's a good guy? What if she doesn't? What if I don't connect the dots?
What if I get so frustrated with the story I press delete and start over?
*R
I love to play this game in real life, it's a part of my love of a story. I make up stories about people in waiting rooms with me, what if they are on their way to buy a new car, a new dog? I play what if with my life as well, what if I didn't love my children more than my own skin? What if I hadn't met my husband when I did? What if I publish a book? What if I don't?
I play with M, but he tires of it far before I do, what if we won the lottery? What if we were handed everything, what if we didn't know the value of work, and appreciate all we had? What if I publish something to great reviews or to terrible reviews? What if something happens to one of us?
I play with my kids, although they get bored with one round and want a cupcake or a hug, what if we have to move again? What if we can't go on vacation or rent movies?
I love this game, but not only does it get exhausting trying to figure out all the possibilities, it's frustrating to figure out the 'right' thing.
Especially when you are stuck on a puzzle piece of a story. How do I get from point a to point b to the conclusion? Where is my character going and What if I get it all wrong?
I am playing what if this weekend for one of my characters and I wonder will she figure out she's a good guy? What if she doesn't? What if I don't connect the dots?
What if I get so frustrated with the story I press delete and start over?
*R
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Blind Faith.
I grew up in church, but I'm a skeptic. I'm not saying I don't believe in God, because I do, I certainly do. I also believe that other religions believe what they believe for a reason as well. Almost every day I go to the YMCA, where you can grab a verse a day out of a basket when you check in. My children grab without fail and today Bradys verse was from Matthew, Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. When I read it to my three year old, he patted my face and said, 'God will help when you are tired, Mommy'. I almost fainted. I am exhausted every single day, but lately I've been feeling a bit better ( I assumed because I was working out regularly) but maybe I wasn't giving credit where credit is due.
Maybe all it took for me to realize how God works every single day in my life is one sentence from my son.
Thank you Lord, for every single day we wake up healthy, with food to eat and clothes to wear and a place to live, Thank you for our jobs, our shoes, our love for each other and our oppurtunities. Thank you for every day my car starts and I have money for gas, thank you for the beautiful weather, birthday cakes and good cell service days. Thank you for friends, for art, for literature, for the energy to get through the day. And thank you most of all for the wisdom of children and the wonder of youth.
And right now, I feel a little less tired just thinking about it.
*R
Maybe all it took for me to realize how God works every single day in my life is one sentence from my son.
Thank you Lord, for every single day we wake up healthy, with food to eat and clothes to wear and a place to live, Thank you for our jobs, our shoes, our love for each other and our oppurtunities. Thank you for every day my car starts and I have money for gas, thank you for the beautiful weather, birthday cakes and good cell service days. Thank you for friends, for art, for literature, for the energy to get through the day. And thank you most of all for the wisdom of children and the wonder of youth.
And right now, I feel a little less tired just thinking about it.
*R
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