The Pamela Everyone Loves and Will Remember

Ok – I know I posted a serious sad blog that was basically an obituary and nothing more. But this is a follow up to that so serious post. This is about my mother… and why everyone loved her so. She was the best at laughing… at herself, and could find humor in just about everything. She was truly happy with her life and everyone loved to be around her.

A few things come to mind though that, as I sit here, make me laugh. That is what she did... lived, laughed and loved with every fiber of her being she cherished everyone and every minute.

-     
      When we were meeting with the reverend that was to conduct her memorial service he asked us about her. He looked at my brother and asked him to tell him about her. At that time my brother gets all business, cause he is a business man, and says she was a type A personality, she was very in control and never backed down from a fight. Ok, I can roll with that. She was a type A because she had to be most of our lives. Fighter? Well only when she had to defend her kids, kind of like a mother bear. And then he says that she was very concerned about the environment, recycling and her “footprint”. 

      ( Disclaimer - My dear brother... I love you but I have to joke with you about this...)

      UM…I had to think to myself... who is he talking about? Is he saying that MY mother was concerned about the environment and HER “footprint” ???? Ok – he has got to be kidding right? The woman I knew was only recycling because the City of Cary MADE her recycle. If they caught recycle items in her regular trash she would get a $1000 fine. So yes, she was concerned about recycling but not for the environment aspect but more concerned about having to pay a fine. She would toss these items in the bin but then tell Larry to take them to the curb. She didn’t do trash day. Furthermore, the whole “footprint” thing… yes … she was concerned about her footprint… mostly because she didn’t want to leave it in a pile of dog poop or mud. She loved her feet… she had pretty, regularly pedicured feet, and liked to show them off in expensive open toed shoes. She liked the footprint she was leaving behind because it was a perfect size 8 and in some pretty shoes… with a toe ring.-     

      My mother was blessed with a strong resemblance to Paula Dean. So much so people would ask her for her autograph, Chefs would come out of their kitchen to talk to her, wait staff would be terrified to wait on her, people would follow her around the grocery store just to see what she would put in her cart. When my son was born I thought the doctor was going to faint when she walked in the room and my mother was standing there. She gasped, started stuttering and all my mother did was wink at her and nod her head. And while the resemblance to ‘Ol Paula Dean isn’t what it used to be… she still would get a kick out of it. 

-     Much like myself she was a book hog. There are books everywhere in her house. Hardcovers… never paperback. Very library-ish. Larry talked to her one time about getting an e-reader so she could just download books. No.. she was a page turner and that was the end of that discussion. I talked to her about it too… it is an adjustment to go from paper to e-reader. I had a hard time but now I did it. She said hell no, mainly because what was she going to do if she forgot to charge the damn thing and wanted to read. I had no answer for that because it was probably the most likely thing that would happen anyway.

-     She had the gift of the stink eye. Yes… if you pissed her off you would get the stink eye and you would remember it forever. It burned a hole into your soul where you would feel the fire of hell on earth. I have seen the best of men, and women reduced to nothing… with just “the eye”.  It was a gift, her mother had it… in spades… and she learned from the best.

-     She knew how to “talk the fire out of a burn”. It is an old timey and folksy thing but once again, it was a gift, from her mother, handed down generation to generation. The reason I know this was because she was at my house on new years day and I managed to burn the inside of my left arm with a hot pyrex dish of brownies. It slipped and just landed on my arm before I could put it on the counter. First thing my mother says is “PUT BUTTER ON IT” What??? Butter?? What am I doing cooking my arm just a little more? Of course I didn’t listen to her… my nursing told me to ice it… I was right. So a couple of days later I tell her that someone mentioned they knew someone who could talk the fire out. She says “I know how to do that”. After about 5 seconds of silence between us on the phone I very calmly say “ really??” “ Mom…you were at my house when I burned my arm. You told me to put BUTTER on it. And now you tell me you know how to talk the fire out of my 3^rd degree burn?”  her response was that she didn’t want to because she said it was a painful thing to do.. um… and my 3^rd degree burn isn’t painful? What do I say? I started laughing and told her how much she sucked, She was fired and she didn’t earn any mom points that day. 

These are just a few of the many many stories about my mother. As I remember them I will blog more. They get better…Much better.

      Now you understand- a little - why she is loved and missed so much. 

My Mother... My Very Best Friend....

Pamela Caddell Maroon, 67, of Cary NC, Passed away on Thursday April 24th, 2014 at UNC Hospital, Chapel Hill NC.

Pamela was born in 1947 in Rowan County NC. The daughter of Martha Carter Bosworth of Statesville NC and John Caddell of Salisbury NC, she graduated from Broughton High School in Raleigh, NC in 1965 and received a degree in Dental Hygiene from UNC in 1967.

In 1982 she began a career in real estate. Pamela was an active member of the Raleigh Board of Realtors for over 30 years, and was employed by Chase Properties in Cary, NC

Pamela is survived by her better half of over 20 years, Larry Peele; her daughter Michele Barefoot, her husband Miller, their two children - Fallon and Sammy of Benson NC; her son Ashley Maroon, of  Raleigh NC, daughter Jessica Peele Wells and her husband Jason of Greenville NC; and her sister Johnnie Chace & family of Providence RI.

A memorial service will be held

at St. Michael Episcopal Church, 1520 Canterbury Road Raleigh, NC  on Monday May 5, 2014 at 1:30PM. In lieu of flowers the family is requesting donations be made to the Museum of Coastal Carolina, 21 East Second Street Ocean Isle Beach, NC  28469 

Actually Feeling a Blessing

You know what... Have you ever felt that you had been blessed because you did something nice? The ICU doc called me about 130 and said they had some problems with my mother and we should probably head over to the hospital in the next few hours... so of course I head up there. I went in to see her and she looked so bad.. so swollen and full of fluid and completely unresponsive to my voice or anything. Her BP was 80/40 and her heart rate was 140 and irregular. After a while in there we decide to go get something in the cafeteria. When I get back to the ICU I told Dad to go in and have some alone time with mom and I went to the waiting room. There were about 30 people in there at the time. This man and woman came in -about in their mid 60's-and sat at a table. She was obviously upset and apparently something had happened to her daughter and she was in ICU. As we were all sitting there she began to get more and more upset. Crying and gasping for air as if she was hyperventilating. A security officer went to get some help and everyone in the room was just looking at her and then looking at each other.

I realized that everyone was looking but no one was doing anything. I said "OK", got up and went across the room to this stranger who was obviously very upset. Her poor husband was just sitting there letting her get hysterical so I got on my knees in front of her. I asked her if her child was here. And then I made her focus on her breathing. As I am trying to calm her down I told her that her child needed her to be strong. Her child needed her to hold it together and help her fight her battle. She can’t help her child if she is falling apart. telling her to breathe... in ... out .. in ... out... Her job was to be strong for her daughter and she wasn’t helping her by falling to pieces. She is the mother... that is her job.

Honestly - I almost had her calm... and then 5 medics come in and try to haul her to the ER for oxygen. I had to get out of the way when they got there. But here is the thing... after I went to her and tried to help her I went back in to see my mother.

I felt like I had been truly blessed when I walked in and saw that her eyes were open. She wasn’t focusing but her eyes were open. She recognized my voice and she was able to nod or shake her head ever so slightly in response to yes or no questions. After a few minutes she as exhausted and went to sleep but for them to call in the family and for her to communicate with me when she hasn’t opened her eyes since Wednesday was a blessing. I feel like I was rewarded for helping that poor woman in the waiting area. Mom is still fighting and her signs are low but stable for now. Fragile is a better term. Just about anything can send her one way or the other but I still treasure the acknowledgement of her knowing I was there. Last thing I said to her -other than I love you- was "you have never backed down from a fight in your life... don’t let this be the first.. because you aren’t ready"

She nodded her head...just enough for me to see. I’ll take it. 

Once Upon an Old House - Part 1

I live in what most people would call the country and there is one thing I have learned about living in the country. You are either an old house person or a new house person. It’s like being dog people or cat people, apple people or android people. There is no gray area, it is totally one or the other. 

Like I have previously written, I live in a 100 year old house, so there is no doubt where my love lies. I am truly an old house person. I love everything about an old house that is exclusive to the people that built and created a home. I am not discriminatory, I love all styles of old homes. From the castles of England & Scotland, old southern plantations, centuries old shotgun houses of the French Quarter right down to the dilapidated and abandoned farmhouses that litter the NC countryside. Old homes have so many stories to tell just by walking through them.

The resurrection of an old abandoned farm house is one of my very favorite things to witness. It is a slow painstaking process, not for the timid or weak minded individual. It takes someone with the gift (and it is a God given gift) to see something so neglected, see the potential - and give it life.

This is will be the multi- part story of one such abandoned and neglected farm house, the man with the gift and the vision, and the process of restoring a once beautiful home that was, for all intents and purposes a condemned dwelling. This was a home that would have been destroyed had he not seen what once was and could be again. Bless his heart!

I have lived in my home for 14 years, I drive the same stretch of highway several times a day going to work, delivering and picking up children and running errands. These woods have looked the same for as long as I can remember.

Look carefully… it is there. Only a few feet off the road. I never knew there was a house hidden under all that growth. But someone else did! And so it begins….

Book Review – The Shack

One word just about covers what I have to say about reading this book – SERIOUSLY???

It was recommended to me by a friend with whom I had been talking about my endless search for giving forgiveness and a connection with God that I see other people have. She told me that she read it after she had been told about it by another friend. She claimed that this wonderful book showed her a different way of seeing God and forgiveness and the whole concept of how to go about forgiving and a new way to think of God and the Holy Trinity. Ok – I’ll give it a shot. Besides Oprah loved it.. I has to be good.

First of all, I cannot get my mind around the idea that God appears as an Aunt Jemima kind of person and the Holy Spirit is some fairy oriental chick. None of that conforms to anything in my mind. I think the idea of meeting God in the cabin after the tragedy he experienced is a novel approach to a conversation with God. But Aunt Jemima?? I imagine that the author was trying to say that God will come to us in a comforting form so as not to frighten or overwhelm. I guess his idea of comfort is an Aunt Jemima-like woman cooking in the kitchen. Full of love, wisdom all the while preparing food for the healing of ones soul. I did like his version of Jesus. The warm loving carpenter persona is something I can “get”. The flighty fairy oriental like holy spirit that he can barely see is a little further out there than the Aunt Jemima image. The way they interact as equals didn't make sense either. I have a hard time imagining God and Jesus on equal level. Jesus is the son right?? God is the father. So how are they equal? I see it like a triangle. God a the top. Last I heard he was the Creator. Of everything including Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

The imagery is well written, however, it seemed more like a vivid dream than something that could actually happen. And that may be what he was trying to get across. I was ok with the whole story until he gets to the shack and it switches to a semi trip on acid. Small cabin in the woods turns into a Thomas Kinkaid painting with the colorful imagery of light, gardens, creeks and smoke coming out of the chimney. Even the night sky was described in vivid detail. I can still see these picturesque images in my mind and that may have been the point. The emotional breakdown at the end when he forgives a serial killer was a little much for me. Forgive this person and let God handle it. The whole while God is telling him that this asshole is worth saving. I can’t get my mind around that. I guess he is saying that everyone is born good… it is this world that makes them what they are. And somewhere in there is the soul worth saving for all eternity. I think I would have preferred they kick his ass back into hell. Maybe he could keep my stepfather company.

Just goes to show… what works for one doesn't always work for another. It didn't work with me and the whole time I spent reading this book for some kind of direction was a waste of my time. I am no further on the ultimate quest than I was when I started reading it. It was a best seller and I am sure he was on Oprah spouting all this colorful crap… glad I missed that episode. That would have been a waste of a good hour. I know I am a bitter and cranky bitch but this book did not help me on my quest- I got some things… the rest made no sense at all. So the search goes on.

First You Have to Fix Yourself

Quote for the day –

"Nothing has happened to you is a surprise to God. God will get you where you are supposed to be...Trust & Faith is the only thing you need"

So, what makes me any different than anyone else that walks this earth? Those that have been through the worst trials and survive yet walk around with a smile and still manage to see the good in others and the beauty that surrounds them. I want whatever medication they are taking – No honestly -they are grateful. Grateful to have survived and thankful for even the smallest of things. Of course I am speaking of those that have been through horrible ordeals like the holocaust, genocide, terrorism and the list could go on and on. I see in some of these people .. the light/ the glow. The light of hope and faith that the world is a better place. The glow and warmth of peace and love.

I envy that. and I know envy is one of the seven deadly sins but my envy is more of a curiosity… where and how did they find it? I know it involves forgiveness. I feel like they have to forgive themselves and those that have wronged them. That has to be the first step. Forgiving and letting go of the things of the past simply because they have become too heavy burden to carry. The older you get the heavier that emotional load gets. There has to be a breaking point. The epiphany… the realization that enough is enough for ones own well being and survival.

Can I have both? Can I have the experiences and the awareness but still be able to find the light and peace? I don’t really see why not only that even the thought of that part of my life makes me so incredibly angry. A simple “it is what it is” and “you can’t change the past” and “let it go” are not enough. I want a road map. I want a step by step guide. Enlightenment for dummies…  

I want someone to tell me what to do and how to do it. And at the end of the road I want to feel the cloud lifted and a permanent smile on my face and joy in my heart. I want to feel the warmth of the sunshine down to my bones, warming my soul and washing away anything negative.  

Still fixing myself… I am a lifelong work in progress.

It is a Beautiful April Day...

New Orleans... How I Love Thee...

My Love Affair with the City of New Orleans

I think my love and adoration for this city started the day I picked up the paperback the Witching Hour by Anne Rice. I will never forget it. I was at the Naples airport with my Uncle Tom to pick up someone coming for my grandfathers funeral. Their plane was delayed so we each picked up a paperback at the newsstand and went outside since it was a beautiful day. I remember laying in the grass reading this book and I was mesmerized with the visual descriptions of this city. I loved everything about it. The French Quarter, the Garden District, bougainvillea hanging on porches, the whole mystique and aura of a city I had never been to struck something in me. Something deep down, I don’t even know where. Like tapping into another life, I could feel the draw there. The history and all that goes along with the plantations of river road and the oldest parts of the city felt like a kindred spirit.

I finally went there for the first time in 2007. Of course my husband had been before but I wont bore you or myself with that story. When I got out of the car at our hotel and took a deep breath I could feel all the synapses firing and I felt more alert and alive than ever. We were there for three days. We walked miles in the French quarter. 

Could anyone love this city more than me? So FULL of everything… I dream of winning the lottery and buying one of those houses in the French quarter that is a couple of stories and having a balcony with ferns and bougainvillea, above the street  and just outside the chaos of Bourbon street. I want one of the houses with a courtyard and a fountain. And the wooden gate to my own personal parking. I want to sit on my balcony and drink coffee in the early spring and summer mornings and let my soul soak up everything, smells, sounds, sunshine and even the rain. I would need to win the lottery so I could afford one of these places and go there for the spring and summer months. Come home to North Carolina in the fall for the chill and the trees changing colors. I also want season tickets to all the New Orleans Saints home games. I do love me some football!!! Don’t forget my son’s name is DREW. Wish I could help them again with that special mojo I had going on in 2009. They are going to have to find someone else to do it – I am too old.

I want to watch all the mardi gras and other parades from my beautiful balcony. Observing – not participating. Touring all the plantation homes on river road till I find the one that clicks for me – which I believe will be Houmas House – and get a job there. I can imagine driving to that place to work every day. What an amazing place to work. I can do that … if I have survived 13 years where I am I can do anything!

Sometimes I can close my eyes and imagine the smells and sounds of the french quarter first thing in the morning. It is my happy place :) If I go on my deck when all my flowers and greenery are at peak, sit there with my coffee and close my eyes... take a deep breath... for a brief instant I feel the magic. It can be intoxicating if I linger too long, like an out of body experience.

Heaven. 

Character and the Definition of Self

Quote for the day:

“Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You must fight for it, strive for it and insist upon it.”

Another quote just for the hell of it...

“ Identity is something you are constantly earning. Its not just who you are, it’s a process that you must be active in more than anything it is now, more than ever about understanding yourself so you can become your best self”

OK – One more…

“Faith is when you have come to the end of all the light you have ever known, and are about to step out into the darkness. Faith is knowing that one of two things will happen: there will be something to stand on or you will be taught how to fly.”

These three quotes speak so much to me. They are all about the “self” and the inner strength and character that make up a person. Character is defined by how you carry yourself throughout every aspect of your life. From the time your eyes open to the time you lay your head down to rest at night everything you do builds your character. If you do everything to the best of your ability, with kindness and pride there will never be a single person that can tarnish you and who you are.

A persons character is defined by the quality of everything they do in their life. Never confuse confidence with arrogance. Arrogance is defiant and offensive. Confidence should be silent and implied. If you do your job and do it well it should speak for itself – you shouldn't have to shout it from the rooftop and sound like an arrogant, self righteous asshole. I know too many of these assholes. Then there is the sneaky, snake in the grass, brown nosing saboteur. Only out for the betterment of themselves regardless of how they get what they want. They know everyone hates them because they are in complete disregard of anything anyone says but them and what will benefit them.

The character that you define for yourself will follow you your whole life. It is easy to destroy and hard to rebuild. If you can rebuild it… sometimes the damage is too great and the character suffers.  

Don’t be led astray… stand tall, stand strong. When all is said and done and you are long gone from this world, your character and the kind of person you are is your ticket to immortality. That is what people will remember. 

Barn Cats, Stray Cats and Field Mice – Update

I do believe I might need to be medicated.

At least until I kill that furry nemesis. And honestly he isn’t little… he is fat as a hog. I guess because he has been feasting on everything in my pantry for weeks. I walked in there this morning, pulled the light chain, and there he was… sitting on a can of Rotel. It was a stare down for about 5 seconds…and then he WINKED AT ME!!! Like a slow motion cartoon I launched myself, as I screamed my best war cry (think Braveheart)  at that furry bastard and proceeded to knock everything off the shelf an onto the floor. I look up and there he was … scurrying up the satellite cable though the hole to the top of the pantry.

Jack Nicholson in The Shining has nothing on the crazy that went through me… a flurry of homicidal thoughts run rampant through my mind and I mentally cross off the worst of the list… shotgun, flame thrower, axe, mallet.. no… those will do more damage than I care to deal with… AAAHHHH….THE SPRAY FOAM INSULATION….now where the hell did I see that stuff… FOUND IT~! And it is a brand new can… OH BOY- IT IS ON NOW.

Yes… conjuring my very best evil laugh… I get the stool out… and spray that stuff in the hole that was drilled (much too big) for the satellite cable. Funny thing about spray foam insulation. What you spray expands exponentially. I know there is a mushroom of that stuff on top of the pantry because there is an equally large mushroom of it coming out the bottom of that hole.

Laughing like a mental patient I sashay down the hall to get ready for work… I hear him up on top of the pantry… mad as hell… and probably covered in that sticky stuff J I hope he looses his balance and falls on my snap trap! Good riddance.

Barn Cats, Stray Cats and Field Mice

We have a big ass orange cat named OJ. He is big and fat and beautiful.

He is like Garfield… and he is also sorry as hell.

I know this because there is a mouse in my pantry. Which only makes me wonder… was he ever a mouser or were those two idiot stray cats that have now found another place to live the real mousers. At one time we had OJ, alpha cat, master of everything on our property; then there were Oreo and Peanut. Oreo was a stray that took up at our house and once he got past OJ to the deck he didn’t leave, staked his area and stood his ground… OJ just gave up since he was still the alpha. Here comes Peanut. Laid up with Oreo on a night of tom catting around and followed him home… meanest petite scrapper cat I ever saw. She beat them both up – she was viscous. I saw her chase both big boy cats across the yard and attack them both at the same time like a feral crazed Bengal tiger. She beat them up like the Tasmanian Devil.

She was my mouser. Obviously. I need more of her minus the evil.

I live in a 100 year old house. When we moved in the mouse problem was so bad it was like the pied piper lived there. I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown. I took some foam insulation that comes in a can and sprayed it in every nook and crevice I could find. I felt like a mad woman with that stuff. Actually had to get anti depressant medication to keep the madness at bay. Both the spray can and the meds helped but they didn’t completely solve the problem. I tell you there is nothing like the smell a mouse leaves behind. They don’t stop to do their business… they are like birds… letting it go as they go.. wherever they go, AND.. they all go in a pattern in my house. Its like they are following the path of their ancestors because they all run the same route. Bastards. Furthermore… worse than that is the one that gets caught in the fan of the refrigerator…eventually you know he is there… because there is another distinct smell a mouse has… and that is a dead one.

When we had three cats outside I never saw a mouse… and we live with fields on three sides of our property, when the farmers plow.. here come the mice. Like clockwork. The years I never saw a mouse were mentally the most pleasant. Now there is one, possibly two in my pantry. I hear them, see them but can’t catch them. And Lord forgive me all I can think about is how I can kill those little SOBs. Glue traps? NO… why the hell would I do that? It isn’t humane to me… like I am going to grab a hold and unglue him, let him bite me and give me rabies, and turn him loose only for him to come right back. All you doo gooders can have the glue traps… so you can throw them in the trash while they are squeeling, take them to the curb so the trash compacting garbage truck can pick them up and haul them to the landfill where they can be stuck to the glue trap and starve to death. What is merciful and humane about that???? Nope - OLD SCHOOL SNAP TRAPS… merciful, quick and all will be well with the world again. Balance and harmony restored at the house. Snap... bless his stupid heart for coming in my house and throw that sucker in the trash, then set another one just for good measure.

It is what it is… survival of the fittest and country living  … gotta love it.

2014’s First Attempt at Being Healthy

Early January of this year everyone was rejuvenated to get healthy and facebook was filled with all my friends making healthy choices. The body by Vi people, the sweat till you pass out people, marathon runners, Zumbas, body jammers, weight watchers, nutria systemers, jenny craigers, and of course lets not forget most committed and serious people of them all - the gastric by-passers.

So I start surfing the internet and wondering what was going to be my deal this year - I was looking through the new releases on amazon.com and came across this great book telling me how to do a 3 day juice detox. Of course I feel toxic. Last I heard I had three pounds of undigested meat in my colon and my system is bogged down with sugar, gluten, aspartame and God only knows what else. The more I read about it the more I thought… well … 3 days… surely I can do that.  So while I am online I purchase the mac daddy of juicers. The Fusion Juicer. Even the name sounds fierce. But until that damn thing gets here all I have at my disposal is a small Cuisinart and a blender. OK – I don’t want to lose my motivation so I will make do with what I have.

I get everything organized as far as the lists of things I will need and was as motivated as I could be getting a jump start on my metabolism issue. $100+ later and back from the grocery store with all kinds of stuff I would NEVER buy I get in the kitchen with “day 1” list of juices to prepare. 2 hours later I have 5 bottles of different juices that in no way look or smell like anything I would find appealing. This was Sunday. I was planning to start this detox on Monday. According to the book I should start feeling the amazing effects of this program within the first half day. 

First thing in the morning – after my people left for school and work- I took a deep breath and sat down with my first bottle of juice. Thick, green and the consistency of a smoothie. It didn’t smell bad… the color was about the color of pea soup. First sip… and the first thing in my mind was “people actually like this???” it was like drinking cucumber/avocado flavored pond scum. People CHOOSE to drink this? Seriously? I manage to drink about 16 ounces of it. One down… 4 to go.

Mid morning I head back to the fridge. Next in line was a fruit like smoothie of raspberries, mango and apple. Now the directions didn’t say anything about peeling the apple so I didn’t. I think It would have been ok if there weren’t small pieces of apple peel that I would feel as I was eating it. I say eating because it was thicker than a smoothie… more like a smoothie  mud like pudding. I had to eat it with a spoon like apple sauce. Something about the apple peels that didn’t get broken down made the consistency gross. At this time I had about 1/3  of what I was supposed to consume and realized that I need that damn juicer. My  cuisinart and blender, no matter how you look at them… neither equal a juicer. Would any of it been better if I had the proper equipment? Im not sure but I didn’t make it to the lunch. I had a bowl of fruit loops. I was supposed to feel amazing and I was bloated and cranky as hell. I cant imagine what I would have felt like had I been at work all day. SO… A 72 hour detox lasted 6 hours. I blame it on faulty and improper equipment.

1 week later my juicer from hell arrives… I have juiced everything in the house on more than one occasion and I love this thing… still have some that are like pond scum but nothing some Splenda won’t fix. Just don’t look at it. This time I am DRINKING JUICE… not a pureed smoothie of grass and dirt. I have not attempted the detox yet… So I guess I am just at a healthier level of toxicity. I can live with that for now.

Healthier and happier J

Its Damn Friday

Oh my friends… today is one of those days.

I was holding off writing this morning to wait and see if my disposition, attitude and tolerance level improved as the morning progressed. Didn’t happen. This is one of those days I would love to unleash the inner monster and just punch everyone in the mouth that irritated me. But then everyone I encountered today would be walking around missing teeth.

I know rain is coming because my knee is aching. I also know that spring is really trying to work its way into 2014 because my head is clogged and the snot factory inside of it is working overtime. I have blown my nose at least 20 times already, I have sneezed half that much and I feel like a bobble head. Even my boss said my eyes look like they were puffy. Great… so I feel like crap and apparently look like crap. 

Lovely Lovely

Say hello to my little friend…..pseudo ephedrine… oh how I love thee… even though I have to show my drivers license, blood type and donor card to the pharmacist to even get some… it is the only thing that will dry up my head and make this time of year barely tolerable. By the way…. Thank you to all the meth addicts that made it almost impossible to get this stuff without handing over my first born and savings account. Every time I walk up to the counter and tell them what I want I get the stink eye once over by some pharmacy med student or assistant checking me out to see if I might be one of THOSE PEOPLE that will red flag in the data base. At those times I want to do the redneck manly thing and just blow a big ol green snot rocket on the counter and say “SEE???? I really do need it.” Buttheads.

But today is not the day for anyone to give me the stink eye… as soon as I get my medicine  I am headed east… to the land of negative ions, salt air and the sound of the ocean. Tomorrow I will wake up and breathe the morning cool air… have a cup of coffee on the deck and all will be right with the world again. …as long as it doesn’t rain all day.

Put me on the prayer list... just for the rest of today...

Great People vs. Me

Quote for toady –

“ Never say you don’t have time… you have the same amount of hours in a day that DaVinci, Michelangelo and Mother Theresa had ”

Ok – I really like this quote and I think of it several times a day. And here is how my mind rationalizes these words….While I can appreciate the accomplishments of these people and other great humans of the past many thousands of years I have a few points to make:

1-    I work - therefore 8-9 hours of my day are focused on something other than my own world those hours are focused on someone else’s world. 

- 

   - Thank GOD for Benjamin Franklin and Daylight Savings time to make me feel like I have a bit more time to try to be productive. That doesn't mean I am... it only means I feel like I have an additional hour to try.

2-    I have two children… and a husband… a home… financial obligations… church commitments… and at times- stressful extended family issues that affect all of us and push us to the point we want to throw up our hands and say the hell with all of you crazy people – see ya!

3-    We can barely find the time to mow the grass and mop the floors – let alone accomplish even the smallest of great things

4-    We have put our children and their childhood FIRST. It is more important for us to spend time enjoying them and playing outside and inside, taking them to the beach as much as possible and making their childhood something they can look back on with a smile knowing they had the best.

So while I have the same hours in a day that the greatest people in the world have… my priorities are different and closer to home. My goal is to raise and create the finest human beings I can and let them change the world…

Besides… When my alarm goes off at 530AM and I set it again that night at 11PM, the hours in between fly by and it is all I can do to stop and smell the fresh air and enjoy the fact that spring is finally here… the days are longer… the sun is warm and life is good. I have to make myself take those minutes… because life is short my friends… and you MUST take that time for yourself and your sanity. Look at the world with new eyes and appreciate the beauty God has given us… even if all you have time to do is notice the blooming Bradford pear trees as you drive by and think about life renewing itself once again.

Never mind that they stink like 3 day old fish. 

My Pinterest World and My Reality

I do love me some Pinterest.

Really … I really really really do.

I love all the pictures of places I will never go, the witty sarcastic phrases I can never think of, all the food that I will never prepare and all the cool clothes that I will never fit into. There are shoes that I would give anything to own but would never actually walk in, makeup and hair that I have no time or money to invest in and let’s not forget all the wonderful crafts and home decor I am not nearly talented enough to try.

But you would never know any of this looking at all my boards! According to my Pinterest world I am the be all and end all of everything cool, trendy and beautiful.

My husband, bless his heart, is bad for dragging up something he found on the side of the road during his travels. For example, one day several years ago he comes home with a small shopping cart. He picked it off the side of the road in a ditch. We already have a wheelbarrow so what the hell was he going to do with it?? Said the kids would have fun with it. Um…. No. First of all the wheels on that thing do not roll on grass, gravel or dirt. Secondly, I don’t want anyone driving by and thinking we stole a damn shopping cart! Another example is the seat of a booth he brought home one day that was free on the side of the road. A vinyl high back double sided booth now sits outside the barn… behind the tractor… The cat likes it. That must be who he picked it up for…surely he knew better than to think it was on my list of must haves. Just the other day he made himself a wind chime out of aluminum bud light bottles… thank goodness it hangs under the barn where the average passer by cannot see it.  The list of items that have been accumulated is long and a bit eccentric and every season I get to add something to the pile of questionable acquisitions under the barn. If I had more time I could go on Pinterest and figure out what to do with all the eccentric conversation pieces that are scattered all around!

Sometimes it bothers me that my home is less than immaculate and more prone to areas of clutter and mess. But I would much rather my kids enjoy their childhood and remember playing, having fun and being outside as much as possible. Their well being and happiness is what matters. I do have my pet peeves but mostly don’t worry about things too much as long as we don’t appear to be slack ass trashy hoarding hobos to the rest of the world.

I do have to draw the line somewhere!