Happy Birthday, Anna!

I want to say Happy First Birthday to our precious little granddaughter, Anna! I am a little stunned at just how much I love this little girl. She is a gift straight from the Arms of God. Being a Grandmother is everything everyone said it was and more. What pure delight! I just spent time Skyping with her and her mother, and she is learning and changing and growing more beautiful every day.

Hello to My Blogging Friends

Hello, all. I still try to drop in on as many of you as I can, but I don't always leave a comment, so I just wanted you to know.

I've had a wild week, but the outcome was better than it could have been. Sunday afternoon my mother had a slight headache, and after church she fell asleep. She slept a good while; when she got up, she passed out, and hit her head in the temple area, really, really hard. Then things got really crazy. I won't go in to all the details, but she was delirious, vomiting, and really in trouble. After an ambulance ride, two emergency rides and a hospital stay, she is finally back home, but none of the expensive tests really told anything. However, she'd recently had a medicine increased and the last time they increased it, she had problems, but they wouldn't listen, so she may have been sleepy and woozy from that medicine. When she hit her head so hard (she has a large, multi-colored goose egg and a bright purple eye nearly a week later), we think she gave herself a bad concussion.

I'm very happy that so many caring, competent people are willing to work in health care, but unfortunately not all of them are caring or competent, and the ones who are good are still swamped, plus Mom was completely disoriented, so someone, and often several someones, from the family was with her at all times. So the whole family is exhausted and stressed, but very glad we were able to be there to help her. She doesn't remember any of it... but we do. She's not completely 100% but definitely improving.

It's a fine line between listening to your doctor and getting your doctor to listen to you. It's a delicate balance between respecting the medical knowledge being expended on your loved one and being diligent to notice and rectify mistakes. I've gotten some incredible care at the hospital for which I am extremely grateful, but the hospital is no place for sick people. Still trying to sort everything out, in other words. But to all of the hard-working, caring, competent, cheerful, compassionate, skilled, patient personnel in all our hospitals, a very big thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Happy Memorial Day Weekend & 21st Birthday of My Son

We had a fun four-day weekend! But the above darling little clothes actually have nothing to do with that. These are from a recent shopping trip extraordinaire! I am not particularly enamored with shopping. But I wanted to get something for the new little one heading our way. So when I got not one, but two $10 off coupons (one from J. C. Penney's and one from Kohl's), I decided to do a spot of shopping. As it turns out, both stores were having huge baby clothes sales! At Penney's I got the above "romper" for "Daddy's Little Princess," as well as a deep rose colored onesie and a soft bib. At Kohl's I found the darling red sweater/jacket over a polka dotted onesie, and it included a little pair of red pants with a pink flower on the back! The original prices would have made this about $45 - the sales made it more like $23 - with my two coupons, I paid roughly $3.00!!! Now that's the way to shop.

As for the weekend. Friday night hubby was able to get tickets to the dinner theater to see "Ring of Fire," the musical revue of Johnny Cash's music and life. We had seats right down front; the food was good (particularly the warm peach cobbler over vanilla ice cream), and the show was fantastic! My hands hurt the next day from clapping so much.

Saturday I spent the whole day cooking and baking for a special celebration that night. My youngest son, who spent the day playing video games with his father, turned 21 on Memorial Day. This year we celebrated on Saturday, so we avoided the unfortunate gaffe we made a different year. I don't remember which birthday it was, but we went all out and had a Pirate theme. His oldest brother took him to the movies and the middle son helped us make the front porch look like a pirate ship, put his gift in a little chest and buried it in the back yard, and wrote clues that sent him all over the yard to find it. In our enthusiasm, we even ran the Jolly Roger, procured at the flea market, up the flag pole. It wasn't until later that one of us realized it was actually Memorial Day! Oops! Anyway, this year we had a quieter dinner and party on Saturday. Sunday was nice, church and a quiet afternoon, while the son went to a party with his friends. And Monday, his real birthday, we all went to see Iron Man 2. Quite spectacular. I kind of liked Iron Man 1 better, but this one was definitely worth seeing on the big screen, and the guys liked it just as well as the first one.

I've also been exercising and losing weight (although this weekend was a bit off the reservation, what with the desserts at the dinner theater and the fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits and apple pie and ice cream for the birthday party) - and oh, that reminds me, if any of you live far enough south to have a Publix, then you ought to know that for a limited time only they have brought back Tin Roof Sundae Premium Ice Cream, which is their best flavor EVER and which they inexplicably discontinued a few years back. I am also cleaning the outside of the house (and even, on occasion, the inside!), so that's what I've been up to, among a bunch of other stuff... how 'bout you guys?

The Nina, The Pinta and a Nephew

I have discovered that chicken pox in adulthood is nothing to sneeze at. (Hence all the Benadryl. Ha, ha). But I am slowly recovering. Meanwhile, we took our youngest son, the history buff who loves Sailing Ships, down to the Yacht Basin to tour the replicas of the Nina and the Pinta. (Some day they hope to add a Santa Maria).

 Ship builders in Brazil built the replicas with authentic hand tools. The Nina is built to size; the Pinta is a bit bigger and can be rented as a party boat. As long as you and your guests are not prone to seasickness. Like I appear to be. I could stand on the deck of the Pinta, but when I climbed aboard the smaller Nina with the slanting deck, gently rocking in the gentle surf, and looked up through the swaying sails - well, I had to get off, so I wouldn't embarrass myself. My husband and I enjoyed the tour. Our son is considering signing on as crew!

Even though I was up until 5:00 a.m., I was still able to go to church on Resurrection Day! I was forced to wear pants, which was very weird, but I was happy to be able to worship that day, of all days. In the afternoon, one of my sons brought me an Easter Lily plant. It is a beautiful plant and a thoughtful gift, which I really appreciated.

On Wednesday evening, we got a call that our 21 year old nephew had been taken to the hospital and was about to go in to surgery. He was delivering food for a Chinese restaurant and the people he delivered to,  pistol whipped him, robbed him of everything, put him in a closet and shot him, then left him there. The surgery was to remove the bullet and to put a plate in his arm, which was so shattered they couldn't piece it together again. They have not caught the perpetrators yet. My nephew is in a lot of pain. But he is alive, and for that we are rejoicing.

Two of my son's missonary friends died within a few days of each other recently. One man of heart problems; he leaves a wife and four year old daughter. A young lady, young and vibrant and seemingly in perfect health, died of eclampsia after delivering her 4th child prematurely. She leaves a husband and 5 year old twins, a 2 1/2 year old and the newborn. It has not been easy. Life is precious and precarious; Praise be to God that because of the Resurrection of His Precious Son, Jesus, we never have to grieve as those who have no hope. As He says in His Word, "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints," (Psalms 116:15) and "For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21). These are good verses to remember.

Uck! I'm Sick Again...

Perhaps all the soup, kleenex, antibiotics and cough drops triggered this memory from my childhood. We keep passing one illness after another around our family, and this one is the worse yet, at least for me. Well, for this go-round, I mean. But it's not as bad as when I was a kid.

One day when I was 8 years old (in 1969), I got to feeling poorly at school. I don’t remember anything about that morning, although I know I couldn’t have ridden my bicycle like I usually did because something needed repairing, so my Mother must have driven me that day. It was too far to walk.

Anyway, the first thing I remember is sitting in class, feeling odd. I remember looking around and thinking nothing looked right. The room seemed dim, my head ached, my lessons didn’t seem to make sense, and I finally just put my head down on my desk. When the teacher came over to check on me, I asked, for the first time in my school career, if I could go to the nurse’s office. I normally loved school and was enthusiastic about my lessons, so the teacher gave her permission right away.

I went to lie down and the nurse called my mother to see if she could give me aspirin. I spoke briefly to my mother, reassuring her that nothing was seriously wrong, the nurse gave me aspirin, and I rested. The nurse chatted with me a bit, and I didn’t feel too badly, so when I heard the lunch bell, I told her maybe I should try eating something and see if it helped.

I went and found my class, got my tray of food, and sat down. But again I began feeling very odd, and I couldn’t eat after all. The lighting seemed strange. The noisy cafeteria sounds dimmed, too, with everyone looking distant as if I was at the other end of a tunnel. Nothing hurt, but I felt disoriented, so I went back to the nurse’s office to lie down some more.

I have always tried not to be dramatic or burdensome when I didn’t feel well, but when the nurse looked my way and I smiled at her, she said she was going to have to send me back to class, since I didn’t have a fever and didn’t seem to be so very sick. She may have thought I was just trying to get out of working. But I stayed put, and she said I could stay a few more minutes.

Before many of those minutes had passed, I suddenly became very ill indeed. The nurse thought I had brought up what troubled me and all would be well. But then I got sick again. And again. Increasingly violent episodes came in waves, but when the nurse called my mother, no one answered. Finally she decided I would have to be taken home. The only person available to take me was the principal of the school.

Our principal, like most I suppose, had the reputation of being very strict and stern, and I was a little bit afraid of her. She came to collect me, but I could tell she didn’t really want to take me home. As we got in her large, fancy, very new car, she commanded me not to be sick in it. I don’t think she was trying to be mean, maybe just trying to lighten the moment, or distract me. Plus I suppose she truly did not want me to be sick in her car. Somehow I managed not to be, and soon we were pulling up in my drive. However, no one was home.

She was unsure what to do, but I told her I had a key, and besides, I was sure my Mother would be home before long. She was hesitant, but I assured her I’d be fine, so she left me to go in and put myself to bed.

My mother came before long; she had taken my bicycle to be repaired as a surprise for me. She was surprised to find me there, sorry she had not been there to greet me. She stayed with me for most of the night, but nothing she did helped. I could not keep any medicine down, not even so much as a sip of water. I didn’t eat anything else that day, but still I was violently ill over and over again.

The next day was a Saturday, so the clinic wasn’t opened. My mother called the emergency doctor’s number. We didn’t have 911 then, of course. The doctor told her to meet him at the clinic. I was too weak to walk, so my stepfather carried me out to the car. When we got to the clinic, no one was there, but right away a nurse pulled in, unlocked the door and turned on some lights. The doctor arrived while she was leading us to his exam room. He looked me over, asked questions, and when I got sick once again, choking and gagging on green bile, he said I was throwing up the lining of my stomach. He was concerned and decided to do a spinal tap. The nurse stripped my clothes off, laid me on my side on a small table, and painted my back with mercurochrome. Then she began curling me in to a ball, telling me to pretend I was a squirrel. She curled me tighter than I thought possible, and then tighter still. Then the doctor took a very long needle and inserted it somewhere in the vicinity of my spine. He withdrew spinal fluid, put it in a little vial, and showed it to my mother. It was cloudy, which confirmed his fears.

I had meningitis. The doctor told my mother to take me straight to the hospital and he would follow. He said not to go anywhere else, and definitely not to allow me to eat or drink anything at all.

At the hospital I was put in an isolation room. This meant a private room, of course, but it had very little in it. No t.v. Nothing that couldn’t be burned or disinfected after I left. No one, including nurses, could come in without scrubbing, putting on paper masks, gloves, gowns, and paper booties. I couldn’t have visitors, other than one short visit with family only in the evening, and they had to gown up as well.

I was hooked to an I.V. since I couldn’t have so much as a sip of liquid. Nothing by mouth. The nurses came in sometimes to take my vital signs, which they wrote on their arms. Mostly I was alone. I was scared. So was my mother. She held it together until she got home, where my poor stepfather, who had heard nothing for hours, saw her come home without me. When he asked where I was, she burst in to tears and sobbed for awhile before she could tell him what was going on. He was afraid I was dead.I didn’t find out about that until much later.

After a few days, I could have liquids. The trays were styrofoam, so I would draw pictures on them to put in my window. Of course, they had to be burned eventually.

Finally I got to go home, and after a while at home, I was able at last to return to 4th grade. Since I was already doing 5th grade work, I wasn’t behind on my school work, and soon the frightening incident was behind me.

Only there was one footnote; about 5 years later something awful happened that made my mother cry all over again. She sold Avon at the time, and had a customer who was also a friend. The customer had a 9 year old daughter that she doted on. One day the girl got sick; her mother took her to the doctor, but he said it was only a virus, and sent her home. That night the little girl went to bed, and when her mother checked on her later, she was dead. Of meningitis. So I am very grateful to that doctor who was willing to come in on a Saturday, do a spinal tap in his office, and save my life.

I trust this illness is nothing like so serious! But I'll sure be glad when it, too, is just a bad memory.

More Really Good Stuff

Good things happening! We've been decorating for Christmas. There was even a very obliging cold front that came in the day we put our tree up; it was all grey and overcast, rainy, windy and downright cold! Well, by our standards, anyhow. Probably because it was a change, it was lovely. It shouldn't be too hot to put up the Christmas tree, but many years it is. When you want a Slurpee afterwards, in front of a fan, instead of hot cocoa in front of a fire, you know you live in Florida! We actually got quite a lot of rain this weekend, which was a gift in itself. Great way to begin Brush Fire Season!

My Mother-in-Love and I went on our annual Shopping Trip with Lunch for my birthday. We had a great, girly-girl time and she bought me the loveliest outfit. She got an amazing silver jacket - I was calling it her Jetson's jacket - but she can totally pull it off. The woman's got style! She gave me good guidance, too, on fashion for ladies. I was pondering whether I could wear a certain, perfect outfit or whether I would get too hot, and she said, "Sometimes a lady just has to suck it up and be hot, if she looks good!" I love when the older generation teach the younger... like Aunt Ruth, who told me frequently (when she was in her 80s), "I won't worry! Worry causes wrinkles!" And my own mother, who always looks beautiful, told me once, "Do the best you can, then go eat chocolate." Works for me!

Thanks to all of you, especially Sara, who recommended Elizabeth Goudge. I am nearly done with "Valley of Song" which is simply enchanting! It is not easy to describe - the closest I could come might be to call it a fable - but it is charming and beautifully written, and I hope to go get another of her books at the library tomorrow.

My nieces have been taking ice skating lessons, which all by itself is pretty cool considering we live in southern Florida. They had a recital/show Sunday afternoon (lasted 3 hours!!!); it was a hoot. Like all recitals, there were lots and lots of tiny cherubs in darling costumes who performed all kinds of antics other than the ones they'd rehearsed. The show was perhaps a bit ambitious for the ones who could barely stand upright, actually. But unlike most recitals, there were also some amazing skaters whose names we will probably all be hearing before long. The show was based on movies, such as "Peter Pan," "Grease," "Annie," "The Sound of Music," and others, so (with the exception of "Annie") there was some really good music. And the coup de grace was Todd Eldredge! Not only did he perform, but he is going to be coaching here at our humble skating rink in between his own tours. Pretty cool! Unfortunately, one of my nieces sprained her ankle right at the end. She'll be alright, and she at least waited until she was done with both dance lessons and skating lessons. But I was sorry because I know it hurt.

Speaking of being hurt when it could be much worse, I do have something I am praising God for today. A very close friend of mine (since sixth grade!) has twin daughters; one of them was in a motorcycle accident yesterday. Someone pulled right out in front of her, and she had to lay the bike down. She skidded sideways and went right under a large pickup truck. But it never touched her. She has some painful road rash, some badly bruised bones in her foot, ankle and shin, and a few other cuts and bruises. But other than that, she is fine! Her mother, who has never been in favor of the bike, says God must have wrapped her in bubble wrap. The bike frame is bent, inexplicably. Her mother is even grateful for that, since presumably the bike cannot be ridden now. The other twin just got married - in a beautiful white dress and pink high-top tennis shoes! Tickled me.

Well, I have got to quit gabbing and go earn my keep, clean my house, and finish my library book. Until next time!

"It's the Most-Won.der.ful Time... of the Year!"

I love this time of year. Everyone seems so much happier and kinder and softer, somehow. And there's more going on than just good old, wonderful Christmas. Yesterday was the last day of Hurricane Season. In my part of the world, that's a big deal. (Of course, today is the first day of Brush Fire Season. Ugh. Always something).

Yesterday was also my 49th birthday. (That's me at one year). One more year to be in my 40s; then I'll get to reset the clock and start over. Since I'm going to live to be 100. I'll only be half way there next year. I love my birthday. I had a very nice one. It started on Saturday when I opened my front door to find 8 poinsettia plants on the porch, from my middle son. They now reside on my dining room table, and they look smashing! Such a cheerful plant. And it's RED!!! Lots of other nice things occurred, I had a lazy, spoiled weekend, and yesterday I enjoyed myself thoroughly. (Thanks for the card, Connie! So sweet!). I had chips and salsa with leftover turkey and a chaser of M&M's while watching an old Hee Haw rerun, for lunch. Then I took a lovely, leisurely bubble bath in my Wonder-Tub. Man, I love that tub. More about it another time. I also cleaned my kitchen and stuff, but I enjoy cleaning my house. Last night we watched "Operation Petticoat," with Tony Curtis and Cary Grant. Still funny after all these years (1959 is when it came out. A year before I did!).

Thanksgiving was wonderful, too. Everything turned out perfectly. And there were lots of leftovers. We all worked hard leading up to Thanksgiving Day. But we were totally lazy for the weekend afterwards. I don't do Black Friday shopping. I'm too tired from cooking and cleaning. And besides, there's nothing I want badly enough to fight the crowds for it. Also, I'm broke. So instead, I slept 'til noon, ate a huge leftover lunch, lounged in my tub, and visited with my hubby.

We watched the new Star Trek movie this weekend. Got it from Netflix. It was kinda cool seeing their version of how the original crew - Cap't. Kirk, Spock, Scotty and all the rest - first got together.  I've also been reading some good books by Deeanne Gist. "A Bride Most Begrudging," and "The Measure of a Lady," which is my favorite. I'm about to read an Elizabeth Goudge book that Sara recommended. I am going to post again soon. Bye for now!

The October Thing is Always in November

Last night we enjoyed the 20-something anniversary of the October thing. Only it is always in November now. It began in October and kept sliding forward year by year until  it settled in to the second weekend of November, or thereabouts. But everyone kept right on calling it The October Thing. It is always on a Saturday night. That hasn't changed. The whole family goes over to the lot my parents own on the banks of a small lake, where they've strung lights, set up a few tables and chairs, and my step dad has a lovely campfire burning. All the children can't resist playing in it. They start with sticks, then surreptitiously sneak other things in to it, like paper plates, until they get caught and get in trouble. Of course now it is the younger kids. The older kids play other pranks.

Everyone brings some food to share. We never coordinate, so we never know what it will be. Last night it was mostly cookies and chips. But there was also my sister's incomparable devilled eggs. And my brother brought "long tailed frog," also called "swamp lizard." Some people call it alligator meat. Because, of course, that is what it is. I had the tiniest piece I could find, just so I could honestly tell you I have eaten alligator meat. Nope, it doesn't taste like chicken. Maybe like pork... I guess it is "what eats the other white meat." A very mild, rather chewy meat.

The main course, though, is hot dogs that we all cook on forked metal cooking poles. I cook mine until it is bubbling, but it is usually still ice cold when I bite in to it. Last night I got it done really well. That was a first. It doesn't matter, really, because the main event is roasting marshmallows. Everyone has their own special way of doing it. One young niece likes to cook them, but not eat them, so she is always going around begging everyone else to let her cook theirs. Her special technique is to catch them on fire, blow them out when they are bubbly and blackened on the outside, then present them to the recipient. I like to get them toasted medium brown all the way around so they are a little crispy on the outside, and melty on the inside. Perfect! My once a year treat. My step dad always makes his hot spiced cider, too, and has leaves it on its own special table in a tiny crockpot.

We talk about all kinds of things. We talk politics and religion and sports, hunting and fishing, video games, tell funny stories and plan future get togethers. My brother brought his pet raccoon last night. It loves to drink soda out of his cup. A teenage niece recited "The Man From Snowy River," Australian accents and all. Sometimes we sing, and one year a son who'd had a dancing lesson taught the box step to a younger cousin.

Gradually, later then they'd intended to stay, different families begin gathering up chairs and children and heading for home, usually taking chips or cookies with them. Everyone is full of marshmallows and root beer, and smells like smoke after our once a year, micro-camping family adventure. 

Holidays and Baseball

Now that Halloween is behind us, is everyone ready for Thanksgiving? I love Thanksgiving. The family, the feasting, and the special time to all give thanks to God for His incredible blessings.

We had a wonderful visit with our son and daughter in law. They are very happy newlyweds. We really enjoyed watching the World Series together too. Our new daughter in law really knows her stuff as she played the position of catcher on her college softball team, and she added interesting color commentary. She is rooting for NY and I am rooting for the Phillies, so that made it fun, too. I like a lot of the Yankee players, though. It is a friendly rivalry. I try not to miss the World Series; it is the one sporting event I always try to make sure to see. It is funny how many connections I have to different family members, old and new, through baseball. My first real memory of watching baseball was with my Grandmother, who loved the Cincinnati Reds.

It is that wonderful season of holiday celebrations, family time, worship and incredible food! Enjoy!

Favorite Costumes From My Childhood

Ruth thought it would be fun to do a meme on favorite costumes from our childhood, and I decided she was right - it would be fun! Plus, I found pictures! I was a strange kid...

In this first one, I was five. I am the Frankenstein on the right, wearing my dad's pants. I guess my sister is Morticia. We used to go to the rich neighborhoods for candy and we could fill two big bags! Although I have no idea how she could walk very far in Mom's high heels.

Here I am eight and wanted to do my own costume. I wore my step dad's bathrobe, an old wig I liked to play with, and my sister used some sort of makeup pencil to draw a villain's face. Then I practiced making scary faces. I actually won "Ugliest" in a costume contest. I was so proud!

I am ten in this picture with my siblings. I don't know what my brother was, besides cute, and my sister looked adorable as a cat. I chose to be a bookworm. That's right, a bookworm. I have a box around my middle made to look like a book. I have no idea what the black material is, and the "cap" was my mother's tube top! I pretty much gave up on costumes after this one. Until my kids came along!

Five Words, Five Insights

The lovely Beverly at Dancing With the Daffodils shared a meme where she had gotten five words from someone else, then wrote what they made her think of, thereby revealing something of herself to us. She invited me to play, and sent me my five words. I have expounded on them below. Enjoy! (And if this is something you'd like to try, let me know and I'll come up with five words for you to write about!)

Moment - It has been my experience that life can change in a moment. When things are good, I savor them thoroughly, because I know they might change. When things are bad, I don't despair because I know they will not stay bad.

I have also been learning to live in the moment. I have struggled in the past with thinking of all the things I should be doing with the result that no matter what I was doing at the time, I thought I should be doing something else. I never felt accomplished or satisfied because there was so much more to do. My husband has worked hard at teaching me to enjoy the process. When I am working on something, I am trying to give myself permission to concentrate on it, focus so that I can do a good job, enjoy the process and take a moment or two to bask in the satisfaction of a job done well. I get at least as much done as I did before, and probably more because it takes a lot of time to stress and worry!

The best moment is still to come! "Behold, I tell you a mystery; we will not all sleep, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet; for the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. (1 Corinthians 15:51, 52)

Finish - When I am finished with my life, I want my Savior to be able to say "Well done, good and faithful servant." I have a problem with finishing things, though. I'm much better at beginning. I begin a story, a diet, an exercise program, a garden - but too often I'm on to the next beginning, before I finish the preceding one. I guess learning to live in the moment will help with that.

Sound - I have discovered that I am very sensitive to sound. People's voices either soothe or grate. I don't make judgments about people because of their appearance. But I've been known to do it because of their voices. My boys used to complain because my ears are so sensitive they felt like they got in trouble just for talking. I felt like they were re-enacting WWII in my living room. Luckily that's what they make "outside," where boys should be, for! (Having said that, though, I really love the sound of my sons' voices). My ears physically hurt if sound is too loud. I speak very softly. I get in trouble all the time because people can't hear me. When I try to talk loudly, or I get mad and yell, it hurts my throat. My favorite sound is my husband's voice.

Carry - I loved carrying my babies. I mean after they were born, carrying them in my arms. I didn't want to use a baby carrier. I wanted to be the baby carrier. I did use a snugglie so they'd be right there even when I needed to be hands-free. When I had two babies a year apart, I would carry one on each hip to balance them out, or one on my back and one on my front. I loved the feel of them, little living bean bags, warm, fragrant, cuddly bundles of love.

Fact - I am not an overly emotional person. Not most of the time anyway. I'm pretty pragmatic and just kind of deal with what is, rather than moaning about how I wish it was. There are blessings to be found in just about everything, if I look for them. So I like facts. That's why I'm a Christian. When I look at the facts they all point to the word of God being True, just like Jesus says it is. Truth and fact are not exactly the same thing, but something can't be true and not be a fact. Now granted sometimes it doesn't seem that way. It can be a very hard truth, counter-intuitive or hard to understand. People say that's where faith comes in and they are right, but not for the reasons a lot of people think. It isn't that you have to have faith because something isn't true, but because it is and you can't see it. It is pointless to have faith in something that isn't true, and that's a fact! "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Evidence, not just wishes. I have studied the Bible all my life and I've verified enough of it as fact that I can confidently have faith that the parts I don't understand are true.

September is Back and So Am I

I thank you for your kindness in bearing with me, after what may have seemed like a melodramatic statement when I posted last. I wrote it in the impulsive aftermath of an emotional night. My dislike of August has nothing whatsoever to do with the weather, but with a deep sorrow. After all these years I had thought it would not be so sharp. Indeed I get through some Augusts almost unscathed. Other years I am blindsided by what amounts to a tsunami through my heart. I would have liked to say a tsunami of my soul because to my writer's ear it sounds better. But I cannot because despite my pain, God has kept my soul firmly in His grasp. But as anyone who has a hidden sorrow - and I am beginning to think that is all of us - I needed a time of solitude and renewal. Prayer and Scripture, physical activity and creative endeavors have helped me with my grief. After all, God says precious in His sight are the death of His holy ones. We who are yet clothed in weak flesh need sometimes to rediscover that death is not the end of life.

Update on Gates

My friend, Karrie, continues to post here about the adoption of her little son from China. After many obstacles, Paul is in China right now, patiently plodding through all the many steps of officially adopting his son. They have a Skype account set up, so Karrie can see her new son as he plays. He's adorable! She asks for continued prayer for the process, the trip home, and Gates' acclimation to his new family. Thank you all for your interest and prayers.

Just Stuff

I had a splendid Mother's Day! First and foremost, all three of our "boys" (who are really men, but hey, I'm a Mom and they'll always be my boys), came over. We had a wonderful visit, both all together, and individually. We always have a great time when we get together, with lots of conversation and laughter. Then I always enjoy them individually as well. They are so unique and endlessly interesting. Our oldest son had Engagement photos to show us, that were just wonderful. I am putting my order in for several! He also gave me texting lessons, since I didn't have a clue. I'm really bad at it, as it turns out, but at least now I understand how to do it! You never know when I might need that information, and I appreciate the patient lessons. Then we had a good talk, which is a rare treat these days. I am so gonna miss him when he moves away to begin his married life.

Our middle son brought me some beautiful plants that I am so excited about! One is a Dipladenia, which I have been wanting for years, with big, pink, trumpet-shaped flowers. We got it planted yesterday, right where I can see it from the kitchen and back porch. There's another one with pretty, yellow flowers; I'm not sure exactly what it is, but it's beautiful. I love plants with yellow flowers. They are always just like sunshine. Hubby is making a special place for me to plant it in front of lattice. He (son) even brought a little pot of red gerbera daisies, that I'm keeping in my kitchen. They are so cheerful! He was the recipient of my practice texts, as well, and exhibited great patience with my silly messages. He is such a generous man.

Our youngest brought some beautiful Nepalese pottery. You light a candle in the bottom, and the little bowl in the top holds a scented cube (White Chocolate Berries! Smells heavenly). It went straight in to my new bathroom, for use during a leisurely bath. He was his usual cheerful, thoughtful self, which I find a very pleasant combination!

I am so proud of our boys, they are strong, sweet, intelligent, funny, amazing Christian men, and I love 'em to pieces. I am very happy and proud to be their Mother. I also enjoyed spending time with my own mother and my mother in law, both of whom I am cherishing more as the time with them grows shorter.


Thanks be to God, it is finally raining! It has been so, so dry. Spring is always dry, but they are saying this was the driest spring in 75 years, and everything has been screaming for rain. There have been such terrible fires, including the one above, behind the golf course and near the Nature Center, a few miles from our house. Roads have been closed, including major ones like Alligator Alley, which is the preferred route from the west coast to the east. Recently, when we were watering our poor, thirsty plants, hubby started noticing movement from every direction. To our amazement, small lizards began running over, along and beneath the fence, straight to the water. They were licking it off leaves and out of small puddles, and there were dozens of them. We've never seen that before! The summer rains are quite early this year, and we are very grateful. During the hot, humid days, the clouds gradually begin to build up larger and darker in the sky, until, with an impressive roll of thunder, the wind freshens and the rains come pouring down. I love storms, and I love the huge, fluffy clouds; I would be quite content in heaven just to float around on my own, special cloud for a few thousand years. For now, I'm content to watch them rolling lazily along above me, bringing the promise of much needed rain.

Congratulations to Our Winner!

We are so proud of our youngest son, a graphic designer. He recently entered a t-shirt design contest with ECHO (Educational Concerns for Hunger Organization), and he won! ECHO is a local farming organization that experiments in raising food in all sorts of conditions on a small enough scale that hungry people can do the same all over the world. Missionaries and others come and learn the techniques, buy the seeds, and go all over, helping hungry people to grow viable food in their part of the world. Each contestant was allowed up to 3 designs. These are his:

His first design was the bright one above, with the sun. The judges said, "We can tell you put a lot of effort into the organic elements on the ECHO logotype! Overall we liked this design and feel that it would transfer to the medium of a shirt, but feel that the shapes and colors lend it to more of an underwater theme that may distract a viewer used to traditional agricultural icons."

Next was this green bubbly one.

The Judges Said, "We'd wear this shirt :) This is a fun design that looks like many popular tee shirts today. Font selection is very solid and the visuals are engaging. Perhaps a shape other than the circles that would depict ECHO's work would help this design to communicate more about the organization. If your offer for the original vectors still stands, we'd love to use this as a desktop wallpaper and basis for Powerpoint slides. This design is at the top of the heap, but just doesn't say quite enough about ECHO."

Last, he submitted the black one below with the tag cloud. This one was the winner!


The Judges Said, "OUR WINNER! Congratulations to (Our Son at) (New Mission Systems International) for his winning design. The balance and flow of this design is truly excellent, but the research that went into bringing ECHO's function, mission, and ministry really set this design apart. The judges found the META cloud concept to be an effective, current cultural concept that will resonate with younger demographic groups while being accessible to all. Be watching for how ECHO and Josh together refine and develop this concept into a finished product. Thank you so much to all of you who have participated in the contest, the decision was made difficult by your myriad of exciting submissions."

We are very proud of our son and his talents, especially the fact that he uses his God-given talents in service to his Lord. (The link above is to the ECHO facebook page. They have a website also. You should be able to see the t-shirts a little better if you click on the image, but they are a little blurry. The facebook page has the images more clearly).

Things I've Done Pictures

I promised I would show some pictures to go with the Things I've Done tag, so here they are. Above is my Grandpa with the small plane he flew for a while. I loved going up in it!

Below I am playing my snare, in about 7th grade. I hated those glasses, but now they are "in."

In 1976, the Bicentennial, my family went to Washington, D.C. Back then you could tour inside the White House, which we did - we toured everything! Below is the Lincoln Memorial.
This is the overnight train, in our case from Florida to Indiana. I am in front. I look scared, but I had a blast.
This isn't the elephant I rode, but it is at Lion Country Safari, passing in front of our car. You drive around through a nature preserve while all these wild animals run free. It's amazing. At the end, there is a park, where you can ride elephants, see baby wild animals, and all sorts of things.
Here's my little brother getting "patted" by Pluto at one of our many Disney trips.
When I was 8 or 9, my step-dad took us out to a hunting cabin he and some friends had deep in the Everglades. Mom loved to drive the swamp buggy. One time she raced my step-dad; he was driving the Land Rover we'd come in. We were so far away from anything, and we had a wonderful time. I'm in the yellow shirt.
We took an amazing trip when I was 14, camping for weeks and hiking through the West. Here is Old Faithful.

Sisters

We've got each other's back...
(My sis and I circa 1971. Yes, I'm the one on the bottom... that time, anyway!)

The Other Victims

(I wrote this in 2003. Sadly, it is still relevant today).

"Abortion 1. The expulsion of a human fetus within the first 12 weeks of pregnancy, before it is viable."
"Viable 1b. (of a fetus) having reached such a stage of development as to be capable of living, under normal conditions, outside the uterus."
"Victim 2. A person who is deceived or cheated, as by his own emotions or ignorance, by the dishonesty of others or by some impersonal agency; a victim of misplaced confidence (Random House Dictionary, 1967.).
Women are being duped. When they are at their most vulnerable, they are lied to about a procedure that can steal their peace of mind, their health and even their lives. They are being cheated out of their children's lives. They are abortion's other victims.
I was twelve years old in 1973, when Roe v. Wade passed, and I remember all the slogans. The biggie was that a woman should have a right to choose what happens to her own body. Unfortunately, no one seemed concerned with responsibility for her body. Up until now a woman had the right to choose whether to have sex or not. She did this with the full understanding of the potential consequences, and when the inevitable happened, she took responsibility for the child that resulted, too. But someone started thinking it wasn't fair for the man not to have to be responsible for his part of the party, and rather than deciding the price of casual sex was too high, women decided there shouldn't be any consequences for anyone. So definitions began to be rewritten. Suddenly this child growing within her was no longer a child. It was a fetus, a product of conception, a part of her body that she could do with as she chose. And now the woman could be free, too, right?
But that has not been the reality at all. Women are still the ones who get pregnant, but now a man doesn't have to decide whether to marry her and support her and his child, or just pay child support for 18 years. No, now the man has a choice! He can use his considerable influence over her and insist she get an abortion or he's leaving. Far too often it is not the woman, who often is a very young woman, who chooses what happens to her, her body or her unborn child. I was discussing this concept with a classmate in one of my classes, and she unexpectedly said, "Yeah, I know all about that. When I was 17, my mother forced me to have an abortion. Two days before Christmas! I'm 34 now, and I'm just starting to be able to deal with it" (personal anonymous communication, February 20, 2003).
"Hey, that happened to me, too," the girl sitting next to her spoke up. "I was 16. My dad said he'd disown me if I didn't do it, and my boyfriend said he would have nothing to do with me or the baby otherwise. And they were so mean to me (at the clinic)! They didn't counsel me, and they said it would be no big deal, but it hurt! Really bad for a long time" (personal anonymous communication, February 20, 2003).
"Yes," added the first girl, "and not just physically, either," pointing to her head significantly.
The truth is that abortion is big business. Those "back alley butchers" of the past were just bad doctors making a little money on the side. Now they can make a lot of money legally. That doesn't make them better doctors. It seems when money or power is involved many people forget about the people they are hurting. Planned Parenthood used to be against abortion. In 1963, they put out a pamphlet called 'Plan Your Children' that stated, "An abortion kills the life of a baby after is has begun. It is dangerous to your life and health." Just when did it become a safe procedure that simply disposed of the product of conception? The politicians sway with the winds on what they 'believe' about abortion, too. Al Gore used to be staunchly pro-life, and now he hotly denies his past voting record. Rep. Richard Gephardt (D-Mo.), Sen. Edward Kennedy (D-Mass), President Bill Clinton, and Senator Jesse Jackson all wrote letters, gave speeches, and even wrote an article for National Right to Life (J. Jackson), supporting life beginning at conception, opposing government funding for abortion, and talking about the dangers of abortion. This was as late as 1986, but all of them turned their back on it when it didn't suit them politically to support life (2001).
Women going in a clinic to get an abortion are not told the truth about what's going on there. They are not told about the developmental stage of their baby, or even the fact that it is a baby. No one explains that this baby is implanted in the uterus long before they even know they are pregnant, and it depends on its mother for nourishment and safety in order to grow to full size. They are told how much trouble it would be to have a baby, and how easy and sensible it is to just get rid of it now. They aren't told how beautiful this little baby is, just that it is a blob. I know firsthand that this is not true, because I saw my perfect, tiny, dead baby after I miscarried at 18 weeks. This was a baby, like a child's doll, small and perfectly formed. Nathan's tiny eyes were still sealed shut, and his skin was translucent, with blood vessels showing through. His ears were like little pink shells, and he had a tiny rosebud mouth, like Cupid's bow. He had ten little fingers and ten little toes, and he had the sweetest face. He was big enough to hold. He was not ready to live outside of my womb, and that is the whole reason he was in there. Not viable is not the same as not living. We are not viable if taken out of earth's atmosphere without a spaceship, which is why we have the spaceship!
But the women are not told any of this. They are told they will have a simple procedure and the problem will be solved. The reality is that the procedure is very invasive, scary and painful. Sometimes they can hear the vacuum, and they can certainly feel it. It is psychologically horrifying. They hurt, inside and out, and it suddenly hits them just what they are doing. But it's too late and then its time to go home. Often the women are in severe pain with cramping, nausea, and severe bleeding. Sometimes they can't even walk for a day or two, and it can take weeks before it doesn't hurt physically anymore. Mentally, it takes much, much longer. And for far too many women, there are serious complications.
Women are told that abortions are safe now, but that is not entirely true. In 1983 the U.S. Bureau of Vital Statistics provided data showing that the advent of penicillin in the 1950's and 1960's correlated to a dramatic drop in maternal deaths, well before abortion was legalized. Abortions did not become safer with legalization, but instead with the advent of penicillin to fight infection (Wilke, Dr. & Mrs., 1998). And still, there are many complications that no one seems to want to admit to. If most women realized the severe consequences that can occur from an abortion they might think twice about it. Even the big medical centers have complications regularly, and most abortions take place in free-standing clinics with a much lower standard of care. One doctor wrote in the OB/GYN Observer that "87% of 486 obstetricians and gynecologists had to hospitalize at least one patient this year due to complications of legal abortions" (Bulfin, 1975). Bleeding can be severe, and women can become anemic and even need blood transfusions. Infection is a common complication, and so is perforation of the uterus, or scarring of the fallopian tubes. These things are not only painful, but often lead to sterility (Wilke, Dr. & Mrs., 1998).
One pro-abortion professor of OB/GYN did a follow-up study of 50 teenagers that he had performed abortions on. He pointed out that a teenager's cervix, with a first pregnancy, is always small and tightly closed and very easy to damage with forced dilatation. He said the results of his study were dismal, considering what happened with their 53 subsequent pregnancies. "Six had another induced abortion. Nineteen had spontaneous miscarriages. One delivered a stillborn baby at 6 months. Six babies died between birth and 2 years. Twenty-one babies survived" (Russell, 1974).
But many doctors point out that for a teenager under 16 there are no more complications of pregnancy than for older women, and for 15 to 17 year olds it may even be safer than for those in their 20's (McAnarney, 1978, Hopkins, 1980, Sutton-Smith, 1979, Sukanich, et al., 1986).
Some doctors are beginning to find a possible correlation between abortion and breast cancer, with one doctor on the news noting that breast cancer used to be a disease mainly for older women.
But there are other complications that are just as devastating. Many people, truly compassionate people, want to help the frightened young mother so badly that they convince her that abortion is no big deal, and will take her out of her seemingly impossible situation and restore things back to the way they were. And she, desperate, wants to believe them. So she closes her ears to the voice screaming inside her that this is her child she is killing, and she has the procedure, often being told it is the only responsible thing to do. Sometimes, she even feels relief at first that she no longer has to try to figure everything out, like where to live, how to survive, and how to get through school on her own with a baby to raise. But the long term effects can lead to self-hatred, anxiety, anger, and substance abuse. And it leads to violence against children.
"There is a clear statistical association between increased rates of abortion and increased rates of child abuse. Indeed, statistical and clinical research support not only an association, but a causal connection between abortion and subsequent child abuse" (Burke & Reardon, 1998). Remember the slogan, "Every child a wanted child!" Somehow killing the ones we didn't want would make the lucky ones that we wanted better off somehow. Since so many babies have died, I wish that slogan were true. It would be nice to think that some kind of good had come out of all of this. Unfortunately, the rate of child abuse has risen dramatically over the past 25 years. Experts say that between 1976 and 1987 alone, 330% more child abuse was reported (Burke & Reardon, 1998). It is tragic, but not all that surprising. Did we really think that cheapening the life of children, so that they weren't even safe in their mother's wombs, would make us more caring and willing to sacrifice for the ones we let live? Parenting is about the hardest thing we commit to, being totally responsible for a weak, dependent, ever-present child. It takes self-sacrifice and that is the opposite of what abortion stands for. Women and men, even grandparents, who are not willing to make any concessions for one child cannot be depended on to have developed enough responsibility to give another the enormous amounts of care he needs. And the inhibitions have been broken down.
But there is another, less obvious, reason for the rise in child abuse. This is from guilt. Sometimes it hits right away, at the clinic even, and the woman feels guilty, empty, shamed and terrified. I can understand how this might happen. I had a miscarriage and I spent an awful lot of time blaming myself. I must have done something wrong, or my baby would be alive. Is it because I was worried about how I would cope with three babies at once (my other two were only 1 1/2 and 2 1/2)? Didn't I want it enough? Did I eat the wrong thing? Lift something heavy? What? I was angry, too, at the doctors, for not realizing what was going on when I went in that day. I felt I had to make it up somehow, help other children, something. We took on a foster child, partly because I was "supposed" to have three boys, not two. I still feel guilty sometimes, still think that he would be 19, wondering what would he be like, wishing I could have held him,thinking what it felt like when I was carrying him. So I can only imagine if I had deliberately caused his demise. I don't think I could live with myself, and many of these women can't either. They sink into depression, and have trouble relating to their surviving children. They see other babies and cry. And sometimes far worse things happen.
Psychiatrist Phillip Ney, M.D. has done a great deal of research into the link between abortion and child abuse. He has seen that abortion disrupts the bonding with other children and weakens the maternal instinct. Also, there is reduced inhibitions against violence, particularly against children. There is heightened levels of anger, rage and depression among post-abortive women (1988). Sometimes this is recognized as the trauma of abortion and counseling has been offered. Through this counseling, disturbing things have come to light. Counselors have recognized a syndrome, known as PAS, or Post Abortion Syndrome, that is very similar to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, seen up to ten years after the war in Vietnam vets. (Wilke, Dr. & Mrs., n.d.). Counselors are beginning to see a clinical reliving of the cause of the pain. While the mind tries to deal with it by reliving it over and over, it also tries to protect you from it by hiding the cause. What this has led to is women playing out scenarios of hurting their children, and the ensuing shame and punishment, and it horrifies them. One woman kept thinking about poisoning her children, and when she was asked to describe her abortion, she described it as poisoning the fetus. Yet she never made the connection. Many women feel a need to "make it up" to the baby by helping other babies, and open daycares, only to fantasize about or even hurt by shaking, these children, then feeling the guilt again like when they had an abortion. (Burke, T. & Reardon, D., 1988). It is only through grief counseling that these women are able to get through this so that their children are not in danger. But those who don't get counseling can carry through in ways you've heard about on the news. One woman killed her three year old son, and in court began talking about how she'd known the abortion she'd had the day before was wrong, and she should be punished. Another woman jumped off of a bridge with her children, and said later that she was trying to reunite her family (Burke & Reardon, 1998). Suicide is a result of PAS also, since symptoms include guilt, regret, shame, remorse, lowered self-esteem, insomnia, dreams and nightmares, flash backs, and even hostility and hatred toward men, including her husband. This can lead to hopelessness and suicide (Wilke, Dr. & Mrs., n.d.).
"The suicide rate after an abortion was three times the general suicide rate and six times that associated with birth...the rate for women following a live birth was 5.9 per 100,000; following miscarriage 18.1; following abortion 34.7" (Gissler, 1996).
Abortion, touted as a necessary choice to help women with their lives, leads to nothing but death. Thirty million babies have died, with all of their contributions to society silenced with them (Stevenson, Dr. K, 1998). Countless other babies have never been born due to sterility caused by abortions. Mothers die, too, emotionally and physically. The Centers for Disease Control grossly underreported these maternal deaths for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is "that a large percentage of CDC employees have direct ties to the abortion industry" (Crutcher, M., n.d.). Also, most abortions take place in clinics, but if there are complications such as hemorrhaging, infection, perforated uterus, blood clot, blood transfusion, salt poisoning, amniotic fluid embolism, drop in blood clotting ability, or even suicide, they are sent to hospitals, and the attending doctor lists the complication as the cause of death. Some of these deaths take place a while after the abortion and the connection is not always made (Wilke, Dr. & Mrs., 1998). And there are other kinds of death: the death of trust between other children and their mother, the trust between a woman and the father of her baby, and the trust a woman had in her own parents. Whether the woman decides to go through with the abortion over their protests or whether they force her into it, someone has lost a child or a grandchild, and other children have lost siblings.
Women have been lied to, causing great harm to them. They have been tricked into having even less choice than before. They have been cheated out of their own children. Abortion is not a solution. It is a destroyer, and women are its victims. But it doesn't have to stay that way. We can't undo what we have done, but we can certainly stop inflicting this pain on so many millions. We don't have to keep lying to our young women. We can take responsibility now and tell the truth about abortion. There are many caring people and organizations that not only oppose abortion, but spend a tremendous amount of time volunteering to help counsel and heal women who are suffering from the results of abortion. I am proud to say that a great many of them are Christian, but those aren't the only voices opposing abortion. The horror this is causing has come to the attention of groups as diverse as Priests for Life to the Atheist and Agnostic Pro-life League, and they are all starting to band together against the devastation. Abortion doctors have recanted their profession and are speaking out about the truth of what is really happening in those clinics (Priests for Life, n.d.) Brave, sad young women have begun writing their heartbreaking stories for others to read, so that maybe someone else will be spared their incredible pain. I believe women should be able to make informed choices about what they do, both with their bodies and their children, and they can't do that without knowing the truth.

(References provided on request)

Football Magic Eye

Hey, remember those Magic Eye pictures? You stare and stare at them and they don't make a lick of sense - then suddenly the picture pops in to focus. Everything is crystal clear and you can't understand why you couldn't ever see it before. After this weekend, that's how I feel about football!

I've been watching football most of my life. Watching to see if the last 2 minutes will ever end and release my step-dad to come to the table for Thanksgiving dinner. Watching for half time so I could perform with the high school band. Watching with my husband while I am curled up with a book, only looking up when everyone starts cheering, to see the replay; or when I am bored, asking a lot of random questions during the game, which no one who actually knows anything about it wants to answer due to the fact that they are watching the game! But recently, all that changed. I finally decided I was ready. I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

I began asking my husband quasi-intelligent questions, when he was relaxed and not otherwise engaged. He gladly answered them, and taught me the basics. Like the difference between quarters and downs, for instance. I watched a game and for the first time ever, it made a little sense. I swear, in the past, it was just a bunch of guys tying themselves in knots, untangling, high-fiving, and doing it again. But this time I began to untangle the knots of my spotty knowledge, picked up in bits and pieces through the years. I mentioned this on my blog, and a friend, Ruth, graciously sent me a "cheat sheet" with the basics spelled out. The next game I watched, sheet in hand, someone attempted a blitz. I didn't have to interrupt my husband, I had only to look up "blitz" on my little paper.

Then came the Super Bowl - the acid test! I reviewed my notes, watched the game so carefully that I got a headache, and asked well timed, intelligent questions. It's a good thing I wasn't watching for the commercials this time, because with one exception (the one where the boss is in the lush office with comfortable furniture, book-lined walls and a moose head, the "worker bee" is on the other side of the wall, working through the legs of the hind end of the moose in a crowded, noisy mail room. Cracked me up), they stunk. The game, however, was really good! I guess you really can teach an old dog new tricks.

Customized Scattergories

Sparky tagged me (and everyone else who reads her blog!) with a list of questions I'm supposed to answer. I took some out and added some in, so mine is a little different from hers. Go to her site to see the original, and if you want to play, you can use hers, mine, or make up your own! Here goes!

Who do you look the most like in your family? I don't look at all like anyone in my family, although there is apparently a distant cousin I've never met that I favor.

Do you like your handwriting? Uh, no, it's horrible. If I hadn't learned to type, few people would be able to read what I write.

Do you prefer pants or skirts? Skirts almost exclusively.

Smooth jazz or rock? Smooth jazz

Do you have kids? Yes, 3 amazing sons here and one in heaven

What is your favorite lunchmeat? Turkey, but I also like "roast beast"

If you were someone else would you be friends with you? I think I would, I'm pretty friendly. I KNOW I'd be friends with my kids if we'd been kids together

Are you sarcastic? I can be when I'm trying to be funny

Are you good at telling jokes? No, I'm the worst, I usually end up telling the punch line first by mistake and then I get all confused

Do you cry easily? Didn't used to, but the older I get the more tender I get

Do you have your tonsils? Yep, that is one of the few things left, lol

Would you bungee jump? Oh, yeah, and sky dive and hot air balloon and parasail and... but my hubby has made me promise to wait until he's gone, so I'll be one of those 90 year old daredevils!

Who has been your favorite President in your lifetime? President Reagan

What is your favorite ice cream? Ben and Jerry's New York Super-Fudge Chunk. That, or plain vanilla from Publix

What's the first thing you notice about people? Their eyes and smile

What is the last movie you went to the theatre to see? Madagascar II just a few days ago (IMAX!)

What book are you currently reading? "What Matters Most" by Luanne Rice

Who do you miss the most? Our 3rd son

Shoes or barefoot? barefoot

What color do you prefer, red or blue? RED

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? My mother

What was the last thing you ate? Pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting, yummy!

What is your least favorite feature? My eyes

What do you listen to? Oh, my, it depends on what I'm doing. Relaxing with my hubby, "Romance in Rio" or Chris Botti's "A Thousand Kisses Deep"; working is College Fight Songs, cooking is Big Band or fiddle and banjo, cooking for special occasions, Charlotte Church, doing dishes, hymns... to relax I like techno and when I'm playing board games with my son, we listen to Christian Contemporary. There's a music for every mood!

Favorite scents? Lilac, cinnamon, vanilla, Brut

Hair color? Eye color? Brown

Favorite sports to watch? Hockey, baseball, rodeo - or soccer and tennis if my sons are playing!

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings!

Movies that make you laugh or movies that make you think? BOTH

Who is your newest favorite singer? Michael Buble, esp. "Sway" and "Everything"

Do you have a special talent? I am amazingly good at diagnosing people's illnesses and ailments