Needing a Place to Vent


Yes, this is my blog.  No, I do not visit all that often.  I am sure the cyber world is uninterested.  But really I simply have a question for cyber world.  At what point do you stop putting more $ into a car than it is worth?  I know... car that runs with no car payment, priceless.  But this is an OLD car.  Not many miles, but all the seals are beginning to fail.  In the last month we have now put $2000 into it.  I'm thinking $2000.... good down payment.  My husband is thinking.... totally worth it to keep the old gal running.

Can we afford to his dream replacement car right now?  No.  Kelly blue book is currently $1000.  Am I way off base?  Am I missing the entire point?

My Heart is Full



I hardly know where to begin, but I know that my heart is full... I will probably not make much sense... that is just the way it is. This post is full of nostalgia and amazement on the path of how I am where/what I am. And it is all connected to music.

Yesterday in church the sermon was on Prayer, as a matter of fact we are in a series on prayer. (One of my favorite topics as side from Worship when it comes to spiritual things.) This weeks prayer; singing your prayer. More often than any other type of prayer, this is the one that I connect to. Music has always been a part of my life. A huge part of my life. So it is a natural expression to pray in music. I have used music to dance and sing, to celebrate joy, to aid in grieving. I have a soundtrack. Sometimes that soundtrack is much holier than at other times, but... I have a soundtrack, and its a best seller (at least I know that I would buy it).

I don't think that music is any more powerful to me than anyone else. But I will say, that I have been blessed to be taught a love music that goes way beyond standard radio listening. To have been exposed to a wide range of music and love most all types of music (rap tends to be my exception). Childhood memories of music include children's choir, piano lessons, and sitting by the fire singing John Denver songs as a family while my Dad played guitar. There were dance lessons. There was a singing group that had gigs at Opryland. Music and childhood went hand and hand. Teenagedome was taken with singing duets with Shelley in the car to Indigo Girls, imbracing my Grungeness with flannel shirts and listening to Nirvana, NIN and Smashing Pumpkin. I added Marching Band to my music rep - that would be percussion and flute. Youth choir was a big deal to me, not only in my church but also in the regional audition choir (Impact - we sang in churches all over the state). I played flute in the church "band" (consistent of drum set, 2 flutes, and guitar). I sang in school choir (of course I did - I couldn't fit it into my schedule, so I would show up for morning chorus at 7:15 every morning before school started at 8). In college I auditioned for handbells on a whim - heard them once, never played - instant attachment, have been playing ever since in some way or another. I sang in choir and loved choir tours. And I joined a church and immediately joined their choir - that just seemed like a given.

And then it seemed my emersion into music was complete. I married a music major. I knew more music majors than psychology majors (still do it seems). He became a music minister. Again - how can a lay person know more about music than to have a 12 year relationship (11 in marriage) with someone so musical (not just musical, but a truly talented musican in love with music). I was the music minister's wife. And I embraced with this meant for me. Children's choir - I led that. Youth choir - I helped with that. Adult choir - I sang in that. Handbell choir - I played that. Solo singing - I sang that. These were never chores to me... I still do these even though I no longer have the title music minister's wife. All this to say, church music is a big part of my life.

I was complimented a month or so ago by my presence at church after the divorce. My continued involvement in choir and helping with the youth choir to this person was a surprise and an encouragement. Honestly, I didn't know where else I was supposed to be. When joyful or grieving... singing is where I should be. I have come full circle in grieving to joy when I have sat in the choir loft this past 3 years. I have driven alone to choir practices only to be surrounded by family, loved and blessed. I have sat in the choir loft sometimes unable to stop smiling, surrounded by the joy of others... In rehearsal I have laughed until sushed, and at other times have had to excuse myself to cry. Sometimes I am involved in ministering to other through music and sometimes it the music alone that ministers to me. There are times when I am overwhelmed by the worship experience and I can't quite bring myself to leave with the rest of the choir. So I stay and listen to the organ until the very last note.

*sigh* (a deep, contented, wonderful sigh) music.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say (sing),
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

The Work of Vacation

I'm not really sure its vacation... it is mission trip, to Chicago, with the church's Youth Choir. But it is time away from the job and time to serve others. I really do get more out of helping others than you might think is really possible. Oddly enough in Sunday School this past week we talked about "disinterested benevolence." The idea that you give something for nothing in return. My mind immediately flashed to a Friends episode. (This will be a bit disjointed, but I think I have a point, so stay with me). Pheobe and Joey had a bet... Joey said no one does something for nothing... So Pheobe goes on a quest. She is determined to do something that helps another living creature, that she doesn't even feel good about. So she gets stung by a bee - she's unhappy and the bee gets to look tough in front of his friends... Joey points out the incorrect logic - the bee died after stinging her, so it wasn't helped at all. The episode is a series of actions meant to help others, but that Pheobe felt good about, so they didn't count. Then Pheobe gave away a lot of money to a telethon that Joey was working... she was actually very bummed because she hated Public Television and really wanted to spend the money on boots (or something like that)... and then her pledge got Joey on TV... which, of course, made Pheobe happy for her friend. And took away the good that she had done.

So... same thing in Sunday School (well, not really the same thing but sort of). Lisa (fabulous SS teacher) brought up disinterested benevolence in conjuction with the topic of agape (or Godly) love. Is is possible to do something for others out of completely disinterested intent without any self gain (such as Christ dying on the cross for us)? Can we really do something for nothing? Great Sunday School discussion topic. The answer really truly, if we examine our motives, is No. We are not good at doing something that doesn't include some payback or reward. Her example is mission trips. We hear the report back and just as often it is about what the missionary got out of the trip as well as what was done for the "ministered to". (And this is especially the case when younger missionaries come back - i.e., teenagers on a trip to Chicago???)

Here is the crux of the matter though... Here is my question in this... Yes, motives are important. I do not disagree with that. But... BUT... Does good feelings after the fact negate the ministry done? Does it only count if your ministry is not fruitful, if the person doing the action does not enjoy what they do or at least look back with satisfaction? It is interesting that these good feelings come from helping others? Isn't that something unselfish and "disinterested benevolence" anyway? Why, when we have the by-product of the missionary being changed we question their motives from the beginning? I worry that we can't have "pure" motives if there is a good outcome and rejoicing in the success of that outcome. We are human. We have goals and desired outcomes when we "do" something. Should that stop us from doing it in the first place? NO. Should we judge harshly those who are making efforts to minister and help others because we question the purity of their motives... no, not that either. That is to say as long as their goals/motives are not exploitative or harmful.

I do so hope that Christ looks back on his sacrifice with satisfaction. That he takes joy in the fact that what he did matters to a great many people. We wouldn't dare accuse Christ of un-disinterested benevolence because there are many that have found peace and joy because of him and he likes that.

(And hopefully I'm not being blasphemous... That would totally suck.)

I will so botch this spelling, but... Petechia Hemorrhage. (Okay, I cheated and looked it up on Wikipedia)

3 years ago about this time of year, I got this for the first time. Tiny red spots all over my torso, esp. around panty, bra, and waist line. Itchy and irritating. I had just started a new allergy medication 2-3 weeks before (Zyrtec) and so it was linked to that. It simply dried me out too much... So I stopped it and went back to Claritin (which is all well and good, but not very effective at all) and suffered through another allergy season. [it was shortly after this that I started allergy shots].

Then 2 years ago about this time of year, I got a nasty sinus/upper respiratory infection and the allergist wanted to try a new allergy medication on me. Nope... 3 weeks later... itchy tiny red spots. ***side note: just in case you didn't look at the link, petechia hemorrhaging is when the capillaries burst, creating the red spots that can take days or even a couple of weeks to descipate.*** So, I am having an allergic reaction to my allergy medication.

Then... 1 year ago, about this time. I got it again. I can't even remember what medication it was that I started taking, but apparently that was a no no too. 2-3 weeks after taking it... red spots. This time what I remember most is that it was in my hairline and even on my ear lobes.

Now... I started some new medication (2 months ago), so I am unsure if it is connected, but itchy tiny red spots on torso, upper thighs, shoulders, and even some on my arms. It hasn't come up on my neck, but it is a little bit on my scalp. Even though I haven't had any new medication since 2 months ago, it is occuring to me that they had switched my generic on medication I take as needed for cold sores. And yes, I started that on Sunday. The only thing that doesn't hold is usually it takes 2 weeks on a medication to make this effect, not 1-2 days. *sigh* this is frustrating. Maybe it is just my bodies reaction to spring. I am allergic to spring.

Self-Centered People, and I Can't Cuss at Them

Yet another member of my family has died. My great Aunt Ruthie. I was less connected to her than to my uncle, but I have fond memories of her. You know the person in your family that is kind to all. Happy to see you, and her face lights up when you walk over to say "hi." She was always ready to give or receive a hug. She is like this with all the cousins so I am not special, but she was the type of person that would make you feel special. This is not a shocking passing. She was old and had lived a full life, getting to hold her great-grandbabies.

So I was telling this to "someone." She was trying to get the right person in her head, but it came across as really self centered. She asked... "Is this the one that owns the lake property where they have the weinnie roast every year? Shoot. Not that I ever met her, but I saw her when there for the weinnie roast." (Shoot??? meaning, my gradkids look forward to that weinnie roast, I hope they don't cancel it). When I expressed my plan to go to the funeral, her reaction was of shock. "For a great aunt?" Yes, for a Great Aunt. Yes, for my father's aunt. Yes, for a woman who would sit with me and talk with me. Yes, for someone who has known me all my life and celebrated all of my victories with me.

So, here is a hint for anyone that needs one. When someone says they are going to a funeral, it means that the person who died has meaning to them. (I am not a funeral junkie - even if this is my 4th in the past year, I don't really like going to them. I go because that person is special to me and deserves to be honored by me). To express shock or even surprise that the person wants to go to this funeral is rude. Plain and simple - all that is needed from you is a I'm so sorry to hear of your loss... or even this loss (if you can't bring yourself to imagine that I might be hurting). Your commentary is not needed, not appreciated, and frankly makes you look selfish and completely lacking in sympathy. This may be a true statement of you, you may be completely lacking in the skills to see life outside of yourself, but just in case you don't want to look this way... at least say the words that match cultural decorum or shut the "flip" up.

Toast

I don't know why. But I am craving toast. Something buttery with crisped crust and peach perserves.

It could be that I missed breakfast this morning. It could be that I just took a swig of cold coffee (cold from sitting out, not iced coffee) and now my stomach is yelling at me.

It could be that... I don't know. I just think toast sounds like a good idea. It is something that I will get a hankering for and can eat an entire loaf of bread toast style (not all at once but over a several day to one week time period)... I think I am entering into a toast time.

This could be that my body knows I am planning something mean for it... (26.2 mile marathon on April 24th!!!) It could be that bread (of all sorts) represents comfort food to me and I am wanting comfort.

Oh... it could be that bread is my butter and jam delivery system and I am actually craving butter?

Another possibility is the psycho-somatic manifestation of.... nah! Even I couldn't come up with something. Toast just means toast.

The world may never know why I want toast today.

Sad

I just heard from my dad. My uncle Forrest passed away. He has had a fight with lung cancer for many years. During the first occurance, they removed 1/2 of his right lung (I think that is right) followed by radiation and chemo. This time around, he just got so tired, so quickly. That was when they discovered, almost by accident the cancer in his abdomen. He went back for his regular scan of his lungs and because of a little bit of pain/discomfort in his stomage, he asked them to scan a little lower.

His children were able to be with him in the end. Please remember his wife Brenda, and his kids... Micheal, Denise, Lana, and Melanie.

I have great memories of going over to their house for holidays. His house and yard and very much connected in my memory to my grandparents. Four generations lived side by side (and that still continued with Forrest grandchildren with three generations). Grandpa (my great-grandfather) lived in a small cabin next door to Grandma and Granddad and on the other side was Aunt Brenda and Uncle Forrest and their 4 kiddos. We would go over for Summer fun (4th of July is my biggest memories)... the cousins would thromp around in the creek behind the houses... raid Grandma's cookie jar... then run up to visit Grandpa (who would also give us cookies)... then we would take the Crawdads we caught from the creek to Uncle Forrest's carport and see if we could get them to fight together. There would always be some sort of country fun, whether it was shooting guns at paper targets or bottle rockets up in the air... The uncles would always be in lawn chair between Granddaddy and Grandma and Uncle Forrest's house, supervising or instructing or correcting the kids.

He was a wonderful and deep spiritual man. A deacon in his church. Someone that truly loved God, fellow men and country.

Engagement Pictures

Went to Cheekwood this past Sunday to take engagement pictures. What fun! We were climbing up rock walls and in between Bamboo. There was blowing of bubbles and even laying in the grass. All sorts of cuteness was to be had. Laura L. was kind enough to bring her camera and snap the pictures. And the phrase of the day... "I love it. Ya'll are so cute."

Finished Ignoring

Maybe... it is has been quite some time since I posted. There are several reasons behind this... none of which seem to matter today, because I want to complain a bit.

Will the person (or dog) that put sand in my eyes last night please step forward? Okay... maybe not. Is it just me or are allergins so completely out of control? Really, Seriously, Truly out of control. I feel like I have golf balls stuffed up my nose. And someone set my eyes on fire.

What is odd... I expected this two days ago. I know that when it comes to allergies I am what they call a "slow reactor", but really... after a good rain I expect relief... but NOOOO...

Thanks for listening. I plan on posting with a little more regularity. Let's see if that works for me.

Not an Exact Quote from a Book but...

Reading a book that has made me cry at least 20 times so far and I am nearing the end. I won't spoil anything, so consider yourself safe. My Sister's Keeper. That's the book. Anna is considering the difference between what her funeral will be and her sister's funeral would be. She assumes that there would be standing room only at Kate's funeral--Family, Friends, Nurse/Dr's from the hospital, people who have helped raise money for her treatments--again, Standing Room Only. Kate has Leukemia. Anna on the other hand sees her own funeral as much less attended and this brings me to the quote. Again, it's not exact... I don't have the book in front of me (I left it at the counseling center last night and my next session isn't scheduled until Monday). "People would sing Amazing Grace. All the verses, not just the famous one."

This got me thinking not about mortality. Or even about my own funeral. (My songs would be For the Beauty of the Earth [my favorite] and It is Well with My Soul amoung others, I do want lots of music). Nope, this got me thinking about that elusive 3rd verse in the hymns that we just don't sing like we should. Can I say that I am a hymnal person? In the whole hymns versus chorus/traditional versus contemporary debate I fall more to traditional, but have no trouble praising God either way... After all worship is NOT about the worshipper, it is about the object of worship-- and I think God likes both. That is not the debate I am talking about though... I love hymns because they are so theologically rich. They are deep messages that get to the heart of doctrine--why we believe what we believe. And choruses have that too, but hymns have been weeded out. The bad one (musically and theologically) have been discarded and only the truly rich have remained. The new choruses are experiencing that weeding out process right now, but more care has to be taken in singing just any chorus--after all, music is a powerful teacher, and I for one do not want to be taught or teach poor theology. I'm rambling.

Why do I like to sing all verses and not just the famous ones? Because sometimes I read over it and I see what we are missing and I so want that particular truth to be taught.

My Bags are Packed... I'm Ready to Go...

I'm standing here outside your door, I hate to wake you up to say Goodbye.
So Kiss me and smile for me...

That's right I am going on adventure again! This promises to be one of my best adventures yet. Gambia! The Gambia to be specific. I am thrill, I am excited. There is a beauty about experiencing different people and different cultures from your own, not just in books but truly to observe and connect in their lives.

I have learned so much from others in my life. I have been changed by my contact with other cultures. Each time I come in contact with new people I learn something. And I am not just talking about contact with those across the globe, I am talking about every day contact. I think that across the globe contact shocks us into learning more quickly. It opens our eyes and forces us to pay attention to the lives of others, to be observers so that the "bull in the china shop" syndrome can be avoided. But why can't we learn as well from others that surround us on a day to day basis? Well, I have a few theories about that as well. (this would be a side note coming on). First, on a day to day basis, we aren't exposed to that many different people--coworkers remain the same, the friends that we choose are very much like us, don't even get me started on the similarities of family. Second, once we get past initial stages with people, we assume that they don't change and we have nothing new to learn from them. Third, we put learning from others as a low priority--our own self absorbed tendencies take over, we are very much prone to say others should learn from us rather than the other way around. Oh, crap! I am guilty of this.

So, combating this (especially as we are tied year after year to same job, same town, same people) is something that must be intentional. Not necessarily a trip to Africa intentional, but purposeful just the same. I want to get out. I want to see and experience new things and I want to know new people. Have I told you I love my job (I am thinking of the counseling one right now, and yes there is a point, even if there is very little segue way)... on a week to week basis, new people come into my office and it is my job to learn about them--what makes them tick, what is essentials to their lives, what is allowable for me to tweak. What I end up asking myself, is do I extend the same curtesies to my friends--making intentional efforts to know them and what is essentials to their lives. Do I love my family enough to see that they view life sometimes differently and I can still learn from them? Do I show enough respect to my coworkers that I am getting to know how to relate to them best?

Sometimes it takes culture shock to truly love the people that are home. (Yes, I know... I did not end up where I originally intended to go with this post. That being said, I rarely end up with the post I had envisioned. That is why I am a random blogger and not a writer).

Wally World

I went to Walmart last night for the first time in almost 2 years. I simply hated to break my streak. It is not that I hate Walmart (there is all that stuff about fishy business practices--i.e., hiring 2 part-time workers rather than one full-time to avoid paying benefits, etc... But they are a cusumer driven business that demands lower prices and they strive to meet that goal however they can.) This would be only one of the reason that I usually choose to shop elsewhere. I also, don't like shopping there. It is rarely a fun experience and leaves me a little stressed out everytime I simply drive through the parking lot. Too crowded. Too much stuff that is not usually what I really want in the first place. But I am preparing to take a trip to W. Africa soon and I needed to stock up on some supplies and what better place to get everything all in one place than Walmart. I was disappointed (or I should say I found exactly what I expected to find, but was hoping for better). Their (sad, I almost spelled it "there" instead of "their"--grammar police is going to get me on that one). hm. Their selection of Bug repellents--not so great (I even check all 3 locations--camping/outdoors, lawn and garden, and bug killers next to laundry detergent)... And although the selection was different in all three places they did not have the one I wanted... pump spray Off Active (sweatproof, waterproof, good Deet concentration) and the Premithen to dip my clothes into--they had some sort of aerosol spray, but not the dip and they had the Off Active in the aerosol or a pump spray of deep woods off. Finally found the sunscreen I wanted. Forgot the batteries, because apparently they are now hiding. They didn't have the type hat I wanted, but I am happy with the sunvisor I did get and a new pair of sunglasses (sadly, not rose colored glasses, but polarized with some great tinting).

The real reason I don't go to Walmart... I always end up with more stuff than my list says that I need... Bubble sticks--really long tubes filled with bubble fun! Little note pad (very pretty blue with flowers on it and elastic to hold it closed). Dog treats (as if they don't have Milkbones galore and really need peanut butter flavored dog cookies). From the clearance row... a Cocomotion machine (they have one at the group home in Adams and it is such a neat device, but totally a one trick pony for the kitchen). I almost picked up a new Beta fish as well. But decided that I would have to clean out the bowl again and I not entirely sure where the drops are for the water--so, I actually resisted an impulse buy from Walmart... Oh, Walmart the nemesis to my savings account!

WHY????

I would like to know why the Tide To Go Pen seems to work great, except when I am at work and realized that I spilled coffee on my boob. Really I would think that is the best time to prove its worth, but no... I still have a stain and now I'm cold and wet. Even better it almost highlights the stain.

My Morning...

So, early morning was great today. Even extremely productive. Woke up at 4:50, made bed, started a load of laundry, fluffed the clothes in the dryer, ran 3.25 miles on the treadmill, showered, dressed, folded the clothes and was still ready to leave for work early. I was truly impressive. A force not to be ignored! (Have I mentioned that I tend to be a morning person...) Gathered my lunch into my pretty pink lunch bag, fed the dogs, grabbed by breakfast cookie and a glass of milk and out the door I go. As an after thought, I decided to take out the trash.

This is the time to let you know that I am the queen of the one trip. Why take multiple trips out of the car when you can just load up and take one, right? Hee Hee. I may have learned my lesson. So, this is what I look like... Left arm: purse, lunch bag, craft/book bag, cookie has been stuffed into purse, glass of milk in hand. Right arm: Trash bag in hand, cardboard box tucked under arm to go out to recycling.

I get all this together and realize that I don't have my keys in hand... So, I set everything down and go to searching. They are usually on the kitchen counter or the hook by the door. This time they were neither place. So I am searching frantically all over the house. They were in my purse the entire time. Now I have my keys in my pocket, and load up again according to the list above. Get out the back door and set the trash down to shut the door behind me, pick up the trash again and go to the steps to get off my deck. That is when I catch my heel in the hem of my pants. Luckily, I didn't crash down face first into the concrete porch, no... I managed to catch myself on the railing with my left hand. Just a reminder in case you don't want to review the list, my left hand is where the glass of milk is (luckily... plastic cup). I completely cracked the plastic cup, emptying the milk in to my book bag (all over my W. Africa orientation manuel) and all over hand and arm (and the porch/deck too). Of course it took me a few moments to realize the cup was cracked as I was just grateful that my head wasn't cracked open. All the while the milk is seeping out more and more onto me and in the book bag.

So much for being early to work. I go back in the house and clean up as best as I can. I get the trash to the trash can and take off my coat (as it is covered in milk--something to deal with later tonight). I rush back out to the car just in time to realize that I have locked my keys in my house and did not put a different coat on. Now I am cold, my arm is still wet and I am so thankful that my dad installed a security key box. So... I run around to the front of the house, let myself in, grab another coat, grab my keys, notice that the dogs are looking at me like I am a crazy woman--so I give them a treat. And now I am on my way again!

Then, as if to say, despite all this you are destined for a good day... I have a Mary Siting!!!

I'm Just Doing What I was Supposed To...

I went to get my allergy shot today. I am in the building phase of the shots, which means that I come in 2x a week. Not a problem, the shot room hours are great, I can go in Monday after work and Friday before work. Easy-breezy. Today, after getting my shot the nurse looks at the screen and looks at me and says, "You are really going through your shots." She said this all impressed like I was doing something amazing. Well, no, I signed up for allergy shots, commiting myself to twice a week for the first 3 months then weekly for 1-2 years after that. My understanding is that things work better when you follow the directions.

So, here is my question... Do we really live in a world where doing the bare minimum is impressive? I have noticed that all too often we set the bar low, we keep our expectations small, and then we still aren't surprised that those expectations are not met. Even at my job, I find myself growing cynical that someone is actually going to do what they said they will do. I get off the phone with someone, they have just told me that the check is going through with no issues, then I call the Accounts Payable department of that company and they have no idea about that payment--the Purchase Order hasn't even been approved. Why am I not surprised? I would have been more surprised if the payment was going through exactly as they had said.

On a side note, totally unrelated and slightly random. My elbows are very dry today. I have put Jergens Ultra Healing Lotion on several times and they just soak it right up.

But What about the Shows I still have yet to Watch

I came home this past weekend to my DVR blinking. It really didn't phase me too much. I simply don't have much time to watch TV. It is not really on my priority list. I love to put on some music and read a book, instead.. I have great fun sticking in a DVD into the player and getting on the treadmill (okay, great fun might be an overstatement). The point is, TV is low on my list. I save it for the few and far between lazy days that I have. That is why I think DVR is the best thing since sliced bread. Someone (Carrie) will ask if I have seen the latest Big Bang. I always have to tell her no, but then usually will watch it within a day or two (fast forwarding through those pesky commercials) then call her back and laugh at what silly thing Shelton had done.

So, finally New Years Day I made some effort to figure out the problem. Hit the reset button, unplugged and plugged it back in. Called DirecTV. Was told to do the same things while their system is running some checks. Yep, the box is fried, completely out of commission. They couldn't even tell what had happened. They want me to send the box to them so they can try to figure that out to prevent it from happening to other systems. So, they are sending me a new one. This means that I will have to go through and reset all the season passes. And those shows that I had been saving for my Lazy day (which yesterday was a perfect example)? Gone. So, I will have to wait to catch Shelton in reruns. This is a sad day.

A Reminder of How Much my Dogs Mean to Me

I saw "Marley & Me" yesterday in the theaters. I had read the book, so I knew exactly what to expect. If you are planning to see or read, please, save reading this post until after you have seen the movie or read the book. I really don't want to ruin anything for you. Although it is more about me than Marley, I don't want you to say you weren't warned...

The book/movie envoked two very precious memories for me. First was after there was a loss in the couples life. She couldn't cry, not at the doctors office, not on the trip home, not even with her husband. But when she got home, Marley was there, she was able to throw her arms around him and cry. How many times have I been unable (or unwilling) to cry in front of others and then gone home to Miriam? With Miriam, she doesn't tell me to stop crying, she doesn't ask questions about what's wrong, she just knows that I am hurting and is grateful to be there with me. When I finally lift my head from her shoulder, then she is ready with a comforting lick across the face. Almost as if she is saying, see its not so bad, nothing that a slimey tongue can't fix. Miriam has calmed alot in the past couple of years. She walks slower, jumps off the bed more gently in the morning, I know her site is failing, and her hearing is beginning to slip a bit. But she is still the same soul that loves me, loves her family.

The second was a little more painful. John said to Marley, "You will let me know when its time, won't you? I don't think I can make this decision by myself." Meaning when it was time to let Marley go, to put him to sleep. The first dog I thought of was Delmar. Letting him go after he was hit by a car was the hardest thing, and I am still afraid I was not brave enough to let him go when I should have, but waited through a couple of days of pain for him. Then I thought of Blaze, the wonder dog from my childhood. I was not there or in on the decision to let him go. I was away at school. She was an amazing dog. She used to climb on top of the dog house to sit. I think about my friend Katherine, who also had to let her dog go. I think about Craig and Rhonda and them saying goodbye to Killian. Letting go of your dog is inevitable--we simply live longer than our pets. But it doesn't mean that saying goodbye is ever easy. Katherine once explained to me that it was a misnomer to call your pet your child. The dog is simply not as selfish. Rather the dog seems to think it is all about you. All the dog really wants to do is love you, protect you, and make you happy. Treat him right and you will have a truly loyal friend.

Meeting New People

There are times in life when you are about to meet someone new. You know the meeting is coming, you have been planning it for months. After all, it was a specially planned weekend trip to accomplish the meeting. For me, there are different approaches that I have to meeting new people. There is the personal side, the business side and the counselor side. And yes, they really are all different.

The Counselor side is truly my easiest. This is a role I slip into naturally. My first priority is always to put the other person at ease and to begin to establish rapport right away. If they are not comfortable, then we won't get to the heart of the matter and therapy will not take place. I love meeting new people in this setting. Usually we have set goals and issues in mind to talk about. It is purposeful conversation and searching for a topic is not a problem. The other thing that makes this extremely comfortable for me, is that self-disclosure on my part is limited. I am the one asking the questions. I am the one gathering the information and forming theories of what will work best for that client. It is all about them. If I am going to self-disclose, I will have already worked out in my head how that would be beneficial for the client.

The Business side of meeting new people is a little less comfortable, but I'm getting better and better. Give me a sales person and I can make idle chit chat with them for hours on end. The part that I am still working on is how to politely stop the conversation so that I can actually accomplish some work. Can't exactly be entering invoices and double checking that work if you have a sales person babbling on about springs and steel quality and blah, blah, blah. Of course, these are conversations that I do want to listen to, so that I know who has what in stock when it comes time to order. So I do listen, that is until they get to the let me tell you about what my kids did this past weekend... I guess I would include in this category Job Interviews, and co-worker conversations. No problems there either.

The personal meeting of new people. I am not very good at this at all. (I know in my head that I am better than I tend to feel like I am, but oh, the fits of uncomfortableness that I go through). I tend to be rather quiet and reserved on meeting new people. Once I begin to get to know someone, I open up a lot more (you know, that give and take of personal information). So, my usual M.O. when meeting new people and I have to watch this, is to slip into counselor mode, make it all about them. It puts the other person at ease fairly quickly and allows them a chance to talk about themselves. Problem--they want to know me too.

The meeting this Weekend? I met the family of a very dear friend. The stakes were high. After all, I wanted to make a good impression. Was I nervous? Ha! Of course, I was. I wasn't too worried about them liking me, most people like me without too much trouble. (I know, a little full of myself). My main worry was how to let them get to know me in such a short time when usually it can take several meetings before I am comfortable enough to start opening up. I think I did okay. After all, we were all determined to like each other, which is a very good place to start. I was able to be a little more talkative when I would have preferred to just sit back and listen. It was a good weekend. And even better it was a good meeting of new people.

Turkey Troubles I will NEVER live down...

Every year the bosses give a turkey to all the employees and retirees that come to the Christmas party. EVERY year, without fail for over 50 years, turkeys have been given. This year, since I am in the Office Manager's spot, I put in an order for the turkeys. I did careful calculations (apparently, the Office Manager 2 people ago forgot to include the retirees in the count and gets to hear about it every year--this was 10 years ago). I called the normal place. This should have been my first clue that not all would be going well. That place was out of business, the company that took over... Butt's Food.

This has turned into one of those, its no one's fault situations, but it doesn't really matter. The turkeys were to be coming in from Jackson, TN by 9:30. By 11:30 the truck was finally leaving Jackson. That is right it was leaving Jackson already 2 hours late for delivery. The truck had broken down and that had to be fixed first. So here we are, nearly 4 hours after expected delivery and the turkeys are reportedly in West Nashville. That is not going to do me any good, seeing as since all the retirees have left and day shift is about to get off. I am getting orders from 4 different people, none of whom are talking to each other about what I should do. Cancel the turkeys. Can they hold the turkeys until Monday and deliver them then? No, I don't want to have to go out and buy a turkey, see if they can get them here my 2:30... Oh dear, I have a headache. And I know, I just know that since this was my first year ordering these stupid birds, I will never hear the end of it. Even if I work here for the next 20 years... every year that I go to order turkeys... "Well, remember what happened that one year..." "Now make sure that they will be there by 9:30..." "Jill, did you learn your lesson about where not to get the turkeys from..."

Hey, the truck just pulled up... and I am so dead serious. Ha!

A Happy Thanksgiving


I am looking forward to a return to family traditions this year. Last year was a year of travel, went to the exotic location of Lexington, KY... and Thanksgiving dinner was at Shoneys on the way up. This year it is back at my aunts for turkey day dinner. Oh, I am so thankful for family. There is something fabulous about all of us squishing around her dining room table. We have kids in the family, but I am not sure that a kids table is necessary. There was a time when I was in college that the "kids" outnumbered the grown ups and we had a grown up table off to the side, and the kids still got to enjoy the big table.


Now this is not a slight to my Aunt, but it is this time of year that I really start to miss my grandparents. Grandmother and Granddaddy's house was full of memories and holiday fun. There was an enormous backyard and basement full of strange toys and fun hiding places. Grandmother would have the table set up in their formal living room. Tables placed end to end so that everyone had a place at it. The fun didn't start with dinner, it started when it was time to set the table. Dish after yummy dish was carried through the Den into the living room until this huge table was loaded with food. To be trusted with carrying that food was a huge responsibility and one that I took very seriously. Finding places to put the food, and ensuring that the mashed potatoes started on my end of the table were top priorities for me. Sometime before the actual dinner, Grandmother would pull me aside when the rolls came fresh out of the oven. Though I was always a big fan of the squishy middle, she thought the outside was the best part. So she would promptly pull out the middle and throw it out, butter up the crust, one for me and one for her. I never really had the heart to tell her that what she was throwing away would be what I wanted the most. Eventually I think my mom noticed and spoke up for me. From that moment on, we formed a fantastic partnership... I got the squishy middle and she got the crispy outside. Buttery goodness either way.