What A Great Sunday!

It's the first Sunday of the NFL Season. Finally!

My favorite team, Minnesota Vikings, were on TV. That's not very common here on the West Coast. And the Vikes won!!

It's cloudy and windy and cool. It was 102 on Friday, mid-90s yesterday, and at this moment (4:20 PM), it is 75 derees. Ahhhh, it's wonderful.

And all the things I should be doing right now aren't as important as what I am doing right now. Taking each moment as it comes and drinking in the sweetness of a great Sunday.

Proud Mama!

Last week I mailed out a DVD I made for Mr. MP entitled "In The Army". It included pictures and videos of him in BCT (basic combat training) and AIT (advanced individual training) at Fort Leonard Wood, MO, set to a soundtrack of music I hoped he would enjoy. My heart danced when he received it Thursday and said he loved it! I am amazed at how fast the year has gone since he completed training and came home for a brief stay before departing for his new home away from home, which is further away than any mother would want her son to be. But as they say "home is where the Army sends you".

The family has come to know that anytime we go somewhere, anywhere, they need to prepare themselves for a photo session that will result in a bazillion pictures and the occasional video or two. I love to scrapbook, so I am always looking for the right angle, the right shot, the perfect still. But now...making DVD's has become my new interest and I'm already getting hints from family members like "can we all expect DVDs for Christmas?" Hint-hint? (smile)

Mr. MP has such a talent for taking pictures, capturing a level of emotion in his photographs that is indescribable. I love to work with his pictures and revisiting his days at Fort Leonard Wood made it seem as though I just hugged him yesterday, instead of last October when he got married.

Since Mr. MP left for the other side of the country, I have begged him for pictures. I get a few...but just recently I asked for pictures of him in uniform, standing next to his patrol car, and/or whatever else he wanted to send. He poo-poo'd me off with "I just don't think about it mom" and that was that.

Today Mr. MP's scheduled day off was changed to a blues mission, providing security detail for Senator Ted Kennedy's funeral. I'm going about my day, getting things done around the house, when my cell beep-beeps, indicating I have a text. When I opened it, there was Mr. MP, standing proudly in his uniform, with his badge, and my first reaction as a Proud Mama was "ahhhhhh". My second reaction was a smile that erupted into full tilt laughter. Now he gets it!! Now he knows why I need pictures!! And all it took was a DVD. Begging, pleading, asking, demanding...that didn't work. But the DVD did.

I am a smiling Proud Mama!! Who wouldn't be?

Fine Art of the New Millenium

I was stopped at a red light the other day and looked to my left. A man, in his mid to late twenties, sat confidently in the driver's seat of a construction truck, waiting for the light to turn green, just as I was. I noticed his body art creeping out of his t-shirt, halfway up his neck. It was at that moment I thought to myself...what is this world going to look like in 20 years? My thought of the moment wasn't about world peace, polluted air, or whether anyone will still drive SUVs. I was imagining 40 to 70 year olds running around with sagging body art and sun-damaged tattoo ink.

Everywhere you look, be it television, or in the newspaper, or even at a stop light on a random day, EVERYONE is wearing the fine art of the new millenium. It seems as if everyone is tatted up in some way or another.

Even my eldest son, Duce...inked for life. I remember when I accidentally discovered his tats. It was the fall of his senior year. He was asleep and I walked into the boys' room for yet again another "GET UP NOW!" start to the morning...when I saw his arm...and God forbid...a tattoo!! I was shocked! I couldn't believe my eyes! I paused...maybe it was a fake tattoo I thought. I grabbed his arm to get a better look, shocking him from his sleep, and as calmly as I could, I asked "what the hell is this???" He jerked his t-shirt sleeve down, trying to conceal what I had already discovered, and fumbled his way out of bed as I demanded loudly that he get up immediately and meet me in the bathroom. I had hoped the better bathroom lighting would ultimately prove that my eyes were deceiving me and I only imagined a tattoo on his arm. If it were real, this meant my "no tattoos/no weird body piercings under the age of 18 (which he was) and as long as you live under my roof!" rule had been broken.

There he stood, wiping his eyes as he tried to wake up, while I examined his arm- touching, poking, rubbing, and stretching his skin. Yep, it was real. And no, I didn't have a brillo pad to try and scrub it off - which I would have had if one were available! The tattoo had been there for quite some time. Void of any raised red areas indicating it was a new tattoo. My shock turned to acceptance. It was his body-his skin afterall. Even though I gave birth to that body, it doesn't belong to me, I thought to myself. He rolled his eyes ten times over as I voiced my opinions about aging skin, the lack of knowledge of where his life will take him in the years to come, and other profound motherly words of wisdom.

It was at that moment, Duce (who I've always said should have been an attorney), began to take off his shirt and gently defend his case. What??? What is that???? Another tattoo permanently stained across his left pectoral muscle! "Mom..." he said. "I wanted to tell you about my tattoos, but I knew you would get mad. But Mom, I love you, and that's why I had your name tattooed across my heart, because you will always be here..." as he patted his hand over the tattoo, "...right here in my heart".

Oh, how sweet. Again - Duce would have made one heck of an attorney. His defense was brilliant. He had taken an unmanageable situation, considering he was smart enough to know he was facing an indefinate period of "grounding", and turned that situation on its heels into a controlled, shining star, center of the stage moment, in which he professed his "forever" love for his mom.

I was touched, really I was, but it didn't change the fact that my boy, my son, was now tatted for life!

Back in my teens and twenties, guys with tattoos were...well...kinda scary! A tattoo usually meant some sort of rebellious incident that may have involved jail time, or a random act of drunkenness during military leave...or even worse - a biker. Not that bikers were bad...but think Hell's Angels and you get my drift.

That was then...and this is now. A world full of tatted up men and women running around expressing themselves in body art. In my little city, I've seen body art sleeves, leg art, and even a guy who had the inside of his ear tattooed.

Again, I think to myself...what will this world look like in 20 years???

Minnesota Vikings

Wow - I just completed watching an NFL Network program entitled "America's Team: The Missing Rings" that told the story of the 1998 Minnesota Vikings that featured the great wide receiver Cris Carter, the rookie great WR Randy Moss, and quarterback Randall Cunningham and that arm of his! It was the year they almost...almost made it to the Super Bowl. Ahhhhh...the memories. The memories of how I despised that team that year! They were on TV every single Sunday it seemed and I was soooo sick of seeing them grab their glory, tromping all over every single team, but two. The team they lost to, obviously at 15-1, and the Atlanta Falcons, to whom they lost the NFC Championship game. All they had to do was beat the Falcons. The team I rooted for. The team for whom I made a cake...with a Falcons logo. In retrospect, I may have been the only one that ate any of that cake! :)

I am a HUGE Vikings fan now, thanks in part to Mr. MP and the teen years. My checks have the Vikings helmet and my bank card is purple/gold with the white Vikings horn!

Back then, having lived in MN and Atlanta, it could have been a toss up on who my team was of the moment, as I base my favorites on who my kids like (Go Texans, the fav of Ms. Independent, and Go Saints - Duce's fav!!) and where I've lived in prior years. Given the fact that I did not like the Vikings in any way shape or form in 1998, there was no doubt that I wanted Atlanta to go all the way and win the Super Bowl. Now in hindsight, what I would give to have that glorious year back, just so I could watch the Vikings nearly every week, instead of my state's teams, ummm...teams I do not like AT ALL!

Mr. MP wanted the Vikings, even back then when he was still a Cowboys fan, but I wanted the 14-2 Falcons to win, and win they did. Funny how things have changed in 11 years - even right down to my football teams.

As the NFL season approaches and I prime my roster for the fantasy football draft, I think back with great fondness to a time lost. I'll sit back this year and enjoy the Vikings on TV for two, maybe three games TV if I'm lucky, during the regular season, and continue the hope that one day, maybe this year, they will make it to the Super Bowl.

Go Vikes!

Repair or Toss?

Have you ever had that thing…you know…that thing that you just can’t get rid of? The one you hang on to, for far too long, for whatever reasons you deem important? Be it a favorite pair of jeans, albeit two sizes too small, or a coffee cup from a frequent vacation spot that held a lot of meaning at one time, but in retrospect, you never really cared for the shape of the cup or how the handle fit in your hand.

I go through periods of evaluating these things from time to time. I enter the realm of “toss” with ease, and quite frequently. Out with the old and in with the new. If I haven’t used it, worn it, or looked at it in the last year, then it has worn out its welcome in my house and out it goes. But not everything needs to be tossed. Sometimes all that is needed is a little “repair”. An additional screw inserted into a hidden spot may save the wobbly chair…maybe. A fresh coat of paint might actually enhance that really weird piece of furniture that was perfect during a bizarre fad deco period, but doesn’t fit quite right with the comfortable earthy décor of current day.

The repair mode will always involve some level of uncertainty, depending upon skill and experience and overall desire to invest the time necessary to conduct the repair. Of course, any attempt to repair something may actually worsen the original condition, or…if handled with care and caution, the problem may be solved, letting the repair breathe new life into the thing that was once caught between repair and toss.

You know that in between place. The one congested with thoughts of “I know I need to get rid of this old thing…it doesn’t work for me anymore, but what if…?” or “why the heck do I still have this…but if I toss it, how will I know for certain that I may not want it again someday?” I will always find cause to hang onto a few things, despite the knowledge that I will never…ever…need it, want it, or use it again. I will shove it in a box and ignore it, even forget about it, for years. Then comes the moment of spring cleaning and “it” has been unearthed from under the bed or come out of hiding from the back of the closet. I look at it, evaluate its purpose in my life, and wrestle with whether or not it may hold some level of importance to me in the future, even though I know it holds zero importance to me today. I might need more time to think it over, and back in the box it goes, or under the bed, or in the closet, until the next time the need to clean out the closet arises, so to speak.

I rarely spring clean in the spring. Something about July always sparks a great need in me to grab every cleaning product imaginable, put in some good elbow grease and make everything squeaky clean and shiny.

As the month is coming to a close and I’m thinking over my spring cleaning list, I ponder those things that are out of sight-out of mind and quite happily realize that I’ve already repaired or tossed everything…except that one last thing. Can it be reformed into something that actually fits in my life? Is it worth the time or effort? I’ve thought about it for quite some time. I’ve held onto it for years. What should I do?

I close my eyes and breathe. I sit quietly and let my thoughts come to me naturally. Not the pack rat type thoughts, or even the ones that have a small ray of hope attached to them. I only let in the thoughts that are of true reality.

Ahhh…yes. I accept what I’ve always known. It will never be anything other than what it always has been. And even the tiniest hope of what it could be at a later time can never change the fact that it is what it is today. I no longer need to pack this thing around with me hoping that someday…maybe…with a little luck, it will be different. It has served its purpose during the time it fit in my life, but now, it can’t be repaired, remolded, or reshaped into anything other than what it is.

I smile and exhale of sigh of relief as I feel a newfound freedom envelop me like a warm blanket. I laugh out loud as I think of how many years I’ve been dragging this thing around with me, weighting me down every time I carefully thought about what I’m going to do with it someday.

I toss it in the garbage and walk away, still smiling. Finally, I’ve emptied my baggage!!

What was in my suitcase you ask??

Those rudely obnoxious, loudly stated and fashionably overrated, orange speckled-neon green spandex pants!!

Tour Thoughts

Mont Ventoux looms in the distance
The tale of victory it will tell
For some, a podium stand in Paris
For others, an exit from hell

Many will have danced on the pedals
And some will have been turned inside out
Ventoux will be the ultimate proving ground
Ending weeks of speculation and doubt

Will Lance reclaim his mighty tour throne
Or will a Spaniard reign supreme yet again
From the descent of Ventoux to the Champs Elysees
Another Tour de France approaches its end

Mail Call

Another ten hour work day ended at 5 pm in sweltering heat that is quite literally hotter than hell, not that I know for certain...but I can only imagine. I expended every measurable ounce of energy in yet again another mind bending exhaustive learning process in my new job. The drive home from work was spent in grandiose thoughts of air conditioning, my couch, and vegging out in front of the TV. My intentions of rest and relaxation were soon dashed when I retrieved my mail.

The envelope told me that Duncanville Photo Enforcement Program had important news for me. Photo enforcement? What?? Is this a traffic ticket??? There are two photo enforcement lights in my city and I hadn't had any problems at either of these locations, as best I can recall. Had I driven to the capital recently? I'm sure it is littered with photo traffic signals. No, haven't been there in a long time. And where the heck is Duncanville, anyway???

I open the envelope and more information is provided...I apparently violated traffic code by running a red light in Duncanville, TX...in April, and now had a traffic ticket to pay in less than one month. What??????

My mind raced like mad! Texas? I've haven't been to Texas in a bazillion years and I've never been to Duncanville, to the best of my knowledge. The picture of the vehicle registered to me isn't a vehicle I've ever owned, and how could this have happened? By now I'm running around like a complete lunatic! Frantic thoughts of identity theft are affecting my ability to think clearly!! Who am I kidding? I can't even think...I'm FREAKED OUT!! After numerous phone calls with family members to trigger lost memories of vehicles owned during my marriage that ended ten years ago , we all reach the conclusion that no...it's not my ex driving around with my license plate. Hey, I said I was freaked out, okay?

Wait one minute! The picture on the ticket is of plate number A123BC, but the written citation is for plate number A412BC, of which I am the named owner, that is according to the citation. By the way, the plate numbers have been changed to protect the INNOCENT!!!!!

Obviously I don't own the vehicle in the picture - or the license plate on the vehicle. But what about the plate number listed on the ticket...could it be the van that I traded in in 2002? Is it the Kia that was totalled in my car accident in 2004? Nope - neither of those. Is it Mr. MP's car that used to be Duce's first car - that we turned it into a junk yard when Mr. MP went into the Army? Nope - not that one either. As I breathe a sigh of relief that no one is rolling through Texas with a former license plate of mine...

It hits me like a brick!!!

What about Mr. MP's first vehicle? That money sucking hunk of junk was disposed of by Mr. MP himself via a towing company and auto shop. As he was a minor during the "first car" time frame, my name was on the title as well. Do I still have the records on this vehicle that was disposed of two and a half years ago? After relentless searching, and quite honestly destroying my neatly organized files, I found it! I found the file that was the vehicle in question! OMG - it's the license plate on the ticket! How the heck did this happen!!!!! What the heck is going on here? Can I in any way prove I don't own this vehicle? My mind has run amok again!!

Why on earth did I decide that January 2008 would bring new habits that didn't involve keeping every single document - FOREVER???? OMG - what have I done??? Why did I go on a shredding spree that probably matched that of Watergate??? Why????

Okay - it's all good. I do have a record of the disposal, in so far as correspondence with the Dept of Motor Vehicles is concerned. I have a copy of the part of the title that you send to DMV to release liability, and a second letter and copy of said liability release after a threatening "suspension of registration" was received. Again, this is two and half years ago.

So now the task at hand is to figure out why DMV thinks I own a vehicle I don't own, at least per Duncanville TX's records. With my summer work schedule of four 10 hour days - looks like I'm spending Friday morning at DMV. Wait...no I'm not. DMV is closed for the next three Fridays as part of the State's furlough program to cut expenses. Oh this just great! Ummm...can I have a few hours off work on Monday to handle this? I realize I've only been in my new job 3 weeks and was out last week due to illness. But time is of the essence!!

I should be grateful this "ticket" has come in the mail so as to alert me to the fact that DMV's records are not correct. But right now I'm more irritated than anything that I have to arrange time away from my job so I can make sure someone else gets their job done correctly. Sigh.

Thought Provoking

I recently discovered the song "Human" by the band "Civil Twilight". The melody is so haunting and the poetry so profound.

"I am just an image of something so much greater

I am just a picture frame, I am not the painter

Where do I begin, can I shed this skin

What is this I feel within

It's only love, it's only pain

It's only fear that runs through my veins

It's all the things you can't explain

That make us human"

The Day and The Night

Yesterday was a windstorm of activity, training, and prioritizing. By the end of the workday, I was in a fiercely stormy mood, fed up with shouldering the burden of too many tasks for one person. I felt the frustration of another day's "unknown", and what began as a slightly irritable mood at the onset of the day became a full-on raging mental storm at day's end.

Then came the night. I had fully given in to the exhaustion I felt, unable to stay awake one more moment, and went into my bedroom where I fell on to the bed and tried to fumble my way under the covers...as opposed to pulling the sheets back and then collapsing onto the bed. Go figure.

No more than 15 minutes into my "falling asleep" mode, BOOM! The most intense clap of thunder right over my bedroom. The night lit up like strobe lights from a heavenly rave. Frustrated by the noise outside and my difficulty in falling asleep, I grabbed my Sony Cybershot and sat on the patio trying to capture the lightning. You have to understand my camera to know this was going to be another difficult task, on top of an overloaded day. But...what the heck - why not? When in night mode, my little camera takes about 30 seconds to take a picture.

Click.................... "capturing".................... "processing"............... okay - there's the picture!

Nothing there.

Click.................. "capturing"................... "processing"..................... picture review and...

Nothing again.

I took 30-40 pictures and went through this loooooonnnnngggggg process for what had to be a 1/2 hr or more. Then I gave up and just sat on the patio watching the torrent of rain, the sky "lights", and taking in nature's loud roar. I believed I had captured blurry pictures of the sky lighter than normal but the hope of anything spectacular was just that...a hope. When I loaded my pictures this morning onto the computer, I was pleasantly...no...I was ecstatic in my surprise of what I "captured".




Not too bad for a 1) night shot and 2) shaking hands because I don't own a tripod!

I went to bed very late. Playing photographer interfered with my need for sleep, as did Mother Nature's night show. But thunderstorms of this magnitude aren't as common here as they are in other areas of the country so a little less sleep was worth the "show".

As the forecast is calling for more thunderstorms tonight...will I opt for sleep? I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Caught Between The Beginning and The End

That's my life right now - I'm caught between the beginning and the end.

Lifetime wise - aren't we all caught between the beginning and the end? Of course, if the beginning is birth and the end is death.

But this isn't about my life - it's about my work, which seems to be consuming my life right now.

The Beginning? Accounting Specialist III in "Corporate Headquarters" where I was working split time in January. The End? Facilities Administrative Assistant at the Home Office.

I applied for and was chosen for my new job - at the urging of those who make budget cut decisions. So while it was a choice, it was a necessary choice, or else. Or else what, I don't know for sure. The discussions The Big Cheese and Ms. B (my soon to be new boss) had with me led me to believe "you better grab this opportunity or you might be left hanging".

My current position has about a year left of work to do and then who knows what would happen? Position elimination? Probably. No...Certainly.

I'm balancing the work of 100% of my position, 90% of a support staff position (who now works in the Corporate Office) and spending the next two weeks training for my new position. One person can't do all of this. Things are starting to fall through the cracks. The "just arrived task" carries greater importance than the "do this now task" that arrived 5 minutes ago. And so the "must do" tasks stack up, one on top of the other...waiting for the moment I can complete them.

I did the only thing I could. No, I didn't move into my office and set up house so I would literally eat and sleep my work. I reached out for help. Help has not arrived yet...but maybe tomorrow.

I am reminded of a poem I wrote June 19, 2006 when my work life seemed overwhelming at the time. What a joke! That was smooth sailing compared to today (and yesterday, and tomorrow).

One Person

•

I am one person

With one person's energy

I am one person

With one person's abilities

•

I am one person

Doing the best I can

Giving it more than 100%

One person with one plan

•

Do what I can do

Let go of all the rest

I am one person

Doing my very best

•

I am one person

One person strong

Changing my attitude

Changing what I own

The Music and The Moment

Last week I was at work, firing on all cylinders, cranking out the work, and rocking out to music at a volume that may have been considered unprofessional, however, the level of melodic mayhem was do-able I think. (I hope!)

I had a great selection of mid to late 90s alternative blaring. "No Substance" by Bad Religion was playing, followed by "Gone Away" by The Offspring. Then it happened! In that split second the song started playing, I was transformed in time, like I always am with music! I remembered with extreme clarity the very first time I heard that song live. June 1997...okay...the clarity of the month may not be exact but we'll say it was June. "The Joint" at the Las Vegas Hard Rock Hotel & Casino. It was Duce's first concert. He was 9 years old. We rocked out hard that night!! He LOVED The Offspring and at the time, I was a pretty big fan as well (still am). I remember how excited he was when he found out we were going to the concert. We had so much fun that night. Sooooo much fun!! It's as if it happened last week, I swear. I can remember so many details of that night, including the ones I try forget, such as every single teen to twenty something asking me "Did YOOUUU have a good time??????" I couldn't have looked THAT OLD!!

Okay so back to last week. After the song ended, I stepped outside to take a break and gather my thoughts...and compose myself. Sister Y called at that very moment, and the minute I answered my cell, I started blubbering. Yep - I was crying...all because I heard a song that brought vivid memories of my little boy at 9 years of age. My little boy who is now a father. My little boy who, because of his work and family duties, doesn't always have the opportunity to call or get together with me. My little boy...

Wow - 12 years whizzed by like a speeding bullet. It seems like it was yesterday.

I just hope he knows, or comes to know, how magical those moments were for me. That song, that album (oops! CD), that concert with him...it is one of the musical moments that sprinkled the landscape of my life. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, whenever I hear that song, I will always remember that concert with my son, one of many precious moments of time shared with him in this lifetime.

My Book Ends

Meet my Book Ends

Don't let the picture confuse you...my book ends aren't Duce and Mr. MP with Ms. Independent squeezed in the middle. Nope! My book ends are actually Duce (left) and Ms. Independent (middle). They are the oldest and youngest. As babies, they could have been twins minus the 3 1/2 years that separate them. Mr. MP takes after his Italian father more so than my Book Ends, who resemble their mother's Irish side of the family.

They weren't Book Ends just in age and looks alone. They were the two getting into trouble while Mr. MP would fly inches below the radar - in between the Book Ends - so as not to get caught. It's funny, Duce and Ms. Independent are so much alike, they tend to clash a little bit even now, as they find their footing in adulthood, where Mr. MP, a typical middle child, gets along with both.

For Mother's Day, Mr. MP and Mrs. MP sent a special card they had made with a picture of them both in front of a historical building. It was fabulous!

On Sunday, Ms. Independent came over and spent a few hours at the house and gave me a wonderful gift and beautiful card.

Duce was out of town on Mother's Day, but called me to deliver his card to me on Monday.

Need I say anymore about my Book Ends:

I received this card from Ms. Independent on Sunday...and from Duce, the identical card on Monday.

I had to smile because I know my children know me so well and what I like. So much so that the Mr. and Mrs. MP sent a scrapbook style card that was personal and meant so much to me. And my Book Ends? They are so much alike in what appeals to them. I don't know if they know that yet. But either way, the card was beautiful! Each one of the two cards!

♥ What a lucky mom I am! And what great kids I have! ♥

Deployment Arises Again??

Here we go again!

Mr. MP called Friday and in a "by the way" kind of conversational insert, he brings up deployment. Phone calls with Mr. MP are a test of my strength and ability to separate myself from what I need to say to support him and what I am really feeling. And the tests keep coming, one right after the other!

Mr. MP: "Did I tell you I was almost got deployed?"
Me: What? Get calm - keep a straight face...um...voice! "Why no you didn't." Smile - talk with a smile!

Mr. MP: "One platoon is ceremonial and the other is SRT, so our somebody important was asked if we could attach to XYZ Company and prepare to deploy to Iraq immediately."
Me: Keep it light and breezy! Smile! "Really? What happened?" Breathe! Keep breathing!

Mr. MP: "Our somebody important said he wasn't letting any of us in the platoon go."
Me: "Thank God!" Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Mr. MP: "Thank God...NO!!!!"
Me: "Whatttt?" I don't understand. I really don't.

Mr. MP: "I really wanted to go!"
Me: "Darn him! That's not right! Darn him!!!!!" C'mon, you can fake disappointment and frustration!

Mr. MP: "I know!!!"
Me: "That's BS! I'm sorry you can't deploy." Thank you God - again!

Mr. MP: "You really don't mean that, do you mom?"
Me: "Well...sort of...let's just say I'm smiling while I say it" as I chuckle. Whew! That was a close call!
Me: "I'm sorry you're disappointed son." I really mean that. I'm happy for me - but I am sorry he's disappointed.

Trust me, I'm preparing myself for this. This is the second time a potential deployment situation has arisen for Mr. MP and Mrs. MP is still awaiting probable deployment later this year. Why anyone would actually want to deploy is beyond me. What I do know is this...it will probably happen, because it's what Mr. MP wants! And these little "almosts" are preparing me for the reality my son lives in. When and if it happens, I will be ready to emotionally support both he and his wife and their military choices. But for now - THANK YOU GOD!

She Did It!

Congratulations Air Force "1"!

My niece, Air Force "1", just completed basic military training (BMT) Thursday. I wasn't able to attend her graduation in Texas, but thanks to technology, I was as "close" to being there as I possibly could be.

Sister Y took the time amidst a very hectic ceremony and parade schedule to upload pictures the evening of graduation and send them to me so I could witness the event from afar. Phone calls from the family kept me up to date with the latest activities and happenings. And when I talked to Air Force "1" Thursday evening, it was the awesome! Her enthusiasm and happiness was absolutely contagious!!

Air Force "1" left this morning for five months of tech school training which involves two or three months internship training in a medical facility. I look forward to hearing the latest and greatest skills being learned by Air Force "1".

Sister Y described the last four days as "overwhelming". I could hear her struggle to find words to describe how she felt throughout the last few days. She summed it up with "well...every emotion possible". I knew what she meant. I remember how I felt at Mr. MP's BCT/AIT graduation. It truly is indescribable. I'm lucky in that his was only a day and a half event schedule, and after a short visit with the then soon to be Mrs. MP, he returned home for 2 & 1/2 weeks of leave and hometown recruiting. Four days must have been so hard for Sister Y, knowing that at the end of the fourth day, she would deliver her daughter back to base and prepare for a five month long distance mother/daughter relationship, military style! But I know Sister Y...she will lean on me and I will lean on her, as we support our childrens' military lives.

I can't wait to find out where Air Force "1" will be stationed after tech school. Get ready Sister Y...pack your bags. We have two base areas to visit now! ♥

I'm so happy for all who could attend and for those of us here at home who couldn't, we are cheering from the sidelines!! Congratulations Air Force "1" - You Did It!

Happy Mother's Day...A Time To Reflect

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms of the world! I find myself reflecting on being a mother, and all the lessons of life that I've gathered along the way. Yes, there have been ups and downs, tears of joy and sadness, times of jubilation and times of confusion. But never in a million years would I have wanted any more, or any less, than what I've been given in and through my children.

Over the course of the last 21 years, I can remember days, weeks, and what seemed like months thinking...and saying:

"I can't do this!!!"

"When will he/she or they get their act together?"

"When will the dishes/laundry/dirty housework be done?"

"How am I supposed to teach them how to add from right to the left when I've never heard of such a ridiculous concept?"

"Am I really as STUPID as they think I am?"

"Did I overlook signs of this action/behavior? Am I in denial?"

♥ ♥ ♥

I also remember thinking...and saying:

"Never have I loved anyone the way I love you (and you and you)"

"I wish you could see how truly amazing and beautiful/handsome you really are"

"I am so proud of you for trying"

"I wish I had the strength and courage at your age to say/do the things you are saying/doing"

"I am so blessed that you are my son/daughter"

♥ ♥ ♥

There were many times I thought I couldn't

Take it anymore

Balance work and raising children as a single parent

Stop worrying

Find that hard to find unheard of thingamabob for school...by tomorrow...or else

♥ ♥ ♥

But I always knew I would

Never give up!

Never stop loving my children!

Never hesitate to say I'm sorry to my children if I over reacted, jumped to conclusions, or hurt them with my words - or my silence!

♥ ♥ ♥

Now that my three children have moved out...I can tell you this:

The laundry/dishes/messiness never stops - not unless you want to go without clean clothes, eat off paper plates, and live amongst dust and debris the rest of your life.

He/she/they do in fact get their act together - just like we all do.

They will ALWAYS think they know more than we do about adding right to left, and other things such as life, money, child-rearing, politics, and anything else you care to "debate".

Yes - we have been as stupid as they thought we were - but just a few times.

Denial happens - that's all I'm going to say about that.

You never stop worrying - you just worry less.

♥ ♥ ♥

I thank God every single day for allowing me to be the mother of my three great kids! I thank my children for loving me with all their hearts...and for loving me exactly the way I am and for who I am. There are things I've learned about me, that would not have been learned if it weren't for being a mom.

Thoughts...Concerns...Reality

Thoughts...once you have them, they can twist into a whole new version of reality. The irony is that I have always believed in the concept that thought is reality. You think, you create it - slam! There's your reality. If you think negatively, then negativity is what you are surrounded by. If you think positively, then positive energies are within you and around you.

Well...let's think about thoughts that creep up from the depths of the subconscious...knocking at your reality, begging to come in. Once you open that door, subconsciously of course, now your thoughts have turned into concerns and reality is right around the corner to help you learn that what you are concerned about probably isn't as bad as what you think it may be.

Let me give you an example.

When Ms. Independent moved out, so did my last tax exemption. Don't get me wrong...my children are not dollar signs or tax credits, but for the first time in 22 years, I will be filing as a single person with ZERO dependents. Wow, I have to tap into the vault of archived memories to remember what filing "single" does to my net income. Naturally, I need to take action. Adjust my filing status immediately. Well, "immediately" became "next month" so I could buckle down and prepare for the loss of approximately $300 or more in net income. Thoughts of "what the heck am I gonna do?", "am I going to be okay financially?", and "what if I'm not okay financially" rise to the surface.

At the same time, I'm wrestling with a very demanding work schedule last week. Meetings, deadlines, etc. I wake up Monday morning (of last week) and I'm struggling...I don't feel well...but I get myself through the morning with the promise of a day off forthcoming soon. A three day weekend baby! Next week (as in tomorrow). Then my co-worker tells me Memorial Day is at the END of May. Darn it! I was confused. I was so desperate for a long weekend. I needed one extra day - that's all. Just one! You get where I'm going with this. Thoughts overcome me...the kind of thoughts that are something like "all I need is an extra day off" in a whiny drawn out and repetative thought process.

And then here comes reality. The need for one, just one extra day off...one long weekend...became three full days off work plus the weekend. Not for good times. Not just because. I was sick. I was really sick. Not swine flu sick...but sick and in bed for three and half days. It's Sunday, and I'm just starting to feel human again, but most of today has consisted of standing up, laying down for awhile and stand up, and then I need to lay back down. You get the drift. What was once a repeating thought of how I needed one more day became too many days off with the reality slap of illness.

The other part of my reality came from the three days off in that the last few years have brought me one thing or another illness wise and my sick leave was expended as of Thursday of last week. Friday became no work - no pay. Again, the need to tap into the vault of archived memories on what it must be like to have a day off without pay. I don't know this scenario...it's been way too long since I was confronted with this concept.

The lesson? My Higher Power has given me a scenario in which my pay will be shorted slightly, appoximately 1/2 of what filing single will result in later. What a great opportunity to find out how invalid my concerns are. Secondly, I wasn't clear about why I need a day off, and in what fashion that day needed to be spent in...such as a healthy day. So my Higher Power, once again, always calling me to learn what lack of positive thinking will do to a person, reminded me that I could have a lot of days off...I just wouldn't be healthy enough to enjoy them.

Why do I forget, quite frequently, that I'm not the one at the wheel of life? Whatever I need, however I need it, will be given to me. God takes great care of me. Unfortunately, God's version of need and my version of need can vary to a great degree. What I think I need...sometimes is not in my best interest. If I would let go, and let God, all of my needs will be met, each and every time.

Here's what I need: I need to remember that God's got it all taken care of for me. I just need to let it unfold the way He planned it.

Numbers

Numbers lay upon numbers
Too many numbers to see
Millions of dollar in numbers
More than just 1, 2, 3

Crunching numbers continues
It aches inside the brain
Another report to complete
Eyes burning from the strain

Numbers are a necessity
It's all in a single day's pay
Come Monday, come more numbers
But thank God it's Friday today!

Letters from Air Force "1"

I received my first letter from Air Force "1" last week and it was so great to hear from her. I'm so happy that my sweet niece has found something she believes in and has committed to. This girl, this rebel without a clue (sometimes), this buck the system because life isn't supposed to be this way strong willed young lady. This "I don't like rules and being told what to do" girl is now expressing frustration with other girls in her group who are not following proper procedure. To hear Air Force "1" talk about her frustrations and how she is overcoming them is truly awe inspiring. I remember when she called Sister Y and I was there and we listened to her on speaker phone. It is indescribable the level of enthusiasm and excitement contained in the voice of Air Force "1", while she is at boot camp, for goodness sakes! She sounds so amped, so positive, and her quality leadership skills sprinkled everything she talked about!

Prior to Air Force "1" departing for basic training, she expressed concern about being brain washed and losing her identity, and I can only imagine that she had heard her fair share of horror stories of basic training. But after reading her letters and hearing her voice, I firmly believe she has tapped into the deep well of who she truly is. Those young adult years are so challenging and I'm so grateful that both she and Mr. P have found their purpose while serving our country.

Like Mr. P, Air Force "1" was a little lost and fumbling her way through life as many 19 and 20 year olds do. But in such a short time, five or six weeks now, she is more expressive about what she's learning, what she's doing, and what she's overcoming, than I think she has ever been about anything! She graduates basic training soon and I can't believe how fast the time has gone. I can't wait to hear what Sister Y feels the very first time she sees Air Force "1" and spends time with her. I remember what I felt when I saw Mr. P at his basic training/AIT graduation after 5 months. He was a man now, dedicated and committed to a purpose that brought him great happiness. I so wish I was able to attend with the rest of the family, but I'll be there in spirit, for sure!

I'm so thankful to my niece for her commitment to our safety and freedom as she serves our country. I'm so proud of her, but more importantly, I'm more happy for her than my own words can express!

Who Moved My Cheese?

When my boss left for his new employment adventure, he gave each of my co-workers, and me, a book called "Who Moved My Cheese" by Dr. Spencer Johnson.

This book is AMAZING! It is the story of two mice, Sniff and Scurry, and two little people, Hem and Haw, and tells the story of their methods of as well as their hesitancies toward finding new cheese when their cheese is no longer in its designated location in the maze. There were several several sentences in the book that caught my attention.

"What you are afraid of is never as bad as you
imagine. The fear you let build up in your mind is worse than the situation that
actually exists."

"When you change what you believe,
you change what you do."

"If you do not change, you may become
extinct."

Wow! I don't want to become extinct!! I better get with the program and become more flexible! Each character provides insight into our habits of adapting to change. I found that I have been all four characters at various times in my life. I have been able to sniff out the changes forthcoming and scurry into action, when I was living in the present moment and ready to embrance any new change. I've hemmed and hawed about taking the next step when I knew in my gut a step needed to be taken, but I was unwilling to do so at that moment because I was ruled by fear. I've also remained steadfast and refused to accept change as I hid under my blanket of denial, until I was ready to crawl out of my protective covering and read the "handwriting on the wall". I was able to readily identify where my attitudes about change and my behavioral approaches to change needed some...well...

changing! For me, the book really hit a major point in that I must be more aware of the subtle changes going on around me at any given time, and take appropriate action based on those subtle changes...versus...reacting to change as if a brick hit me upside the head. When I react to change versus acting with change, it's as if I'm frozen in a complete state of shock, which ultimately delays my ability to accept whatever change has occurred. If you haven't read this book, it is a must read in today's times. It was written in 1998, but with so many changes facing each and every one of us, and those we care about, one can never get enough insight on how to deal with the inevitable...CHANGE.

Mr. MP and the UFC

Yesterday was Mr. P's 20th birthday and he started his special day with "combatives". I asked him what that was as I envision American Gladiator. He said "you watch UFC right?" With excitement, I respond "yes I do". He said "it's like the UFC". He gives me a little detail and then tells me he put a guy in a guillotine choke hold and the guy tapped out 45 seconds into the first round (they participate in 3-three minute rounds). OMG this is more exciting than his presidential detail! A guillotine choke? One of my favorite UFC moves to watch! He talked about how he was held in a "triangle" while the other guy was in "full mount" but he was able to contain him in his "guard" and shrimp his way out of the full mount. Shrimping is an Army description, he said, and it's acting like a shrimp and getting out of the hold. Then he went into various kinds of choke hold descriptions. This choke does something to the nerves and that choke cuts off blood flow from the carotid arteries and so on. That's TMI, so I change the subject.

"You don't punch each other, do you?". My gosh, I'm his mother. A guillotine choke is one thing, but punching each other? What about his repaired broken nose? What if he got seriously hurt? "No, that's level 2...that's when you use strike force" he said. He wouldn't want to participate in strike force, would he? "Well that doesn't seem like something you would want to do, right?" No need to guess what his response was. "Yeah - it'd be kinda fun". Of course!

I asked him if he has ever tapped out and he said no. I can hear it now. "Entering the Octagon is Mr. MP "Broken Nose P******" (his last name sort of rhymes with nose...sort of).

The conversation was absolutely fascinating, and I think to myself, what would the conversation have been like had I not gotten into watching UFC fights? Knowing my son, he would have become frustrated trying to explain positions and what it looks like and how its done and what the desired outcome is. And future conversations about his combative training probably would have fallen by the wayside.

I firmly believe there is no such thing as a coincidence and so it would seem, Fight Nights serve a greater purpose for me than family fun! It also serves as a teaching mechanism for me so that I can better understand the events my son undergoes in his physical training as an Army MP. And it helps make for one helluva conversation!!

Sometimes You Feel Like A Klutz...Sometimes You Don't

I am klutz! There is no doubt about it. This isn't new news to me. Nor is it new news to anyone who knows me. I've been a klutz my whole life and I accept that. When I was younger, I had hoped I would grow out of it, like a teenager growing out of their awkward gangly stage. But now that I'm older, I've come to terms with my klutziness and I fully embrace it...and all the injuries it creates.

When I was a freshmen in high school, I was wearing my brand new "swabbys" - a really cool pair of high waisted blue jeans with wide legs...and...my new clogs! Wow - I was feeling super groovy that day! The bell rang and I was talking with friends and then realized with a shock that my bus would be leaving shortly.

I wanted to make sure I got to the bus quickly because it was always crowded and if late, I would be stuck sitting with people in a "three in a seat" situation. As a freshman I was not particularly comfortable in my own skin, and sitting up front in the same seat with two other people was easier to deal with instead of making my way to the back of the bus and sitting with the jocks and the stoners. I was pretty much a geek, but in a fun to be around geeky kind of way. :)

Okay, back to the story. I'm quickly walking to the bus and then realize I need to run. So run I did. Clomp! Clomp! Those clogs made so much noise! All of a sudden I biffed it - HUGE! I went down hard! Imagine the sight. Papers and pee-chees, and my clogs, flying everywhere. I'm layed out flat as a pancake on the cement as my peers walk by me headed to their cars...or their bus. Did anyone see me fall? I certainly hope not. That would be so humiliating! I pretend I don't see anyone smiling (and laughing). I don't want a big scene to occur should anyone care to ask if I'm okay, so I spring off the pavement like I'm performing an arobatic dismount off a trampoline. I quickly put myself back together and gather my pee-chees and papers...and clogs...and as I'm literally dusting myself off, I see a large ripped hole in the knee area of my brand new swabbys! I can't believe it! Man, this is the pits!! My swabbys? With a hole? Keep in mind, it's not the 80s yet, where everything was acid washed, shredded and holy. And by holy, I'm referring to holes in the knee area. If you weren't sporting those ripped knee holes in the 80s, you were fashion citation waiting to happen! But in the mid-70s, a hole in my swabbys was not cool at all!!

Okay...so much for then. Now it's time for...

Yesterday.

Ms. Independent came home to visit and we went to the swimming pool at my apt complex after I got off work. I'm a little heavier than I want to be right now, so I'm trying to keep my head held high as I walk proudly in my winter white skin and very tight bathing suit. There are people at the pool (ugh), however, I continue holding my head up high as I quickly claim a chaise lounge chair and begin to sit down and relax. Then I realize I need a little table between our lounge chairs. I get up and pick one up and then my worst nightmare of klutziness began. I rounded the chair too close, was feeling a little dizzy - just a little, and hooked my two toes on the chair leg, which extended far beyond true need. I lost my balance, and the table and I entered into the slow motion disaster of falling. The table hit my lounge chair as my toes were jamming into the chair legs. Then the legs of the table completely disconnected and now a table top and two sets of disconnected legs are falling along with me. One of the leg ends jabbed me in the ribs after it poked me in my upper arm. My upper thigh fell into the blunt end of the lounge chair armrest and quite possibly served as a buffer to what could have been worse. And all the while, the glass table top is nearing the cement. I desperately try to save it from breaking and position my foot between the falling table top and the cement.

It's over. The glass didn't break and I didn't fall directly onto the cement. But my toes are throbbing. My rib is throbbing. My arm is throbbing. And I'm shaking from the event. Oh yeah - and then there's the "did anyone see me" issue frantically racing about my brain.

If this happened in Vegas...it would've stayed in Vegas. But it happened at the pool where I live. Did anyone ask if I was okay? No. It's like high school all over again. Were any of my acquaintances there? No, I really don't know anyone at the complex, but I could at a later time. And once again, I've made one heck of an impression, huh?

It hit 95 degrees today. I thought about a swim after work. Then I thought about yesterday's events and elected to take a cold bath. It seemed to be the better choice. The pool can wait until I find my balance again.

Thank You!

He came into the Home Office a couple of hours ago, dressed in Army ACUs, asking where he could find one of the head honchos at the Corporate Office. My co-worker assisted him with directions on how to find the Big Cheese at the nearby office. As she gave him the information, I watched him from my office doorway as I tried to glean more information about him from the unit patch on his left arm. As luck would have it, age and the need for new glasses would inhibit me from deciphering any detail on his patch. But I swear it looked like the same patch my son, Mr. MP, wears. I know my eyes were playing tricks on me, because my son is stationed on the East Coast. I haven't talked to Mr. MP in a few days and I miss him so much. If I looked twice, I might have actually thought the man in the office was my son himself!

The gentleman thanked my co-worker for her assistance at which point I was headed to the photocopier and ended his sentence with my own..."No, thank you! Thank you for everything you do for the rest of us." He smiled and acknowledged my thanks and left the office.

Then a half hour or so ago, I was running errands at lunch and saw a large group of military personnel in Army ACU's having lunch at an outside eating area of our restaurants. As my hometown only has a nearby Air Force base...seeing such a large group of 15-20 people in Army ACUs is quite surprising.

I wanted to shout out "Thanks - you guys rock!" as I was driving by, but it wasn't safe to do so. Driving, yelling, giving a thumbs up, and making eye contact with them while maintaining control of the vehicle would have far too dangerous for others!

So as I eat my lunch and write this...I want to thank you. All of you.

I thank you, the men and women who serve your country in the Army, Air Force, Navy, Marines and Coast Guard. Thank you for your willingness to sacrifice whatever is necessary to protect us and the freedoms we enjoy.

One of the Blue Star Moms recently told me she had spoken with some veterans of past wars, who told her the thanks she gave them was the first they had ever been given. No one had ever thanked them in the past. That seems incomprehensible to me.

I don't know who will read this, if anyone. But I must say this.

Thank you for your military service, past and present.

Thank you for the sacrifices you have endured as you spent months and quite possibly years away from your loved ones.

Thank you for the sacrifices you are preparing to make as you await deployment.

Thank you for the daily sacrifices that you as mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, grandfathers, grandmothers, uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews, and friends have endured and will continue to endure as a family member of a fallen soldier.

Thank you, whoever you may be, for keeping a watchful eye over my son, my daughter-in-law, and my niece who presently serve our country. Thank you for befriending them and keeping them safe in their new surroundings.

And to everyone...thank you for supporting our men and women in the armed services.

You are all in my prayers.

Family Holidays

Oh my...our family holidays have changed dramatically. Our once traditional Easter feast of ham, mashed potatoes, and all the goodies were replaced with non-traditional fixin's this year as we celebrated Easter in full 4th of July style. Cheeseburgers, potato salad, cole slaw and all the burger trimmings. We colored our eggs during the afternoon...not the day before...but the day of. It was hilariously fun!

Our previous Easter holidays together were spent sitting around yik yakking with each other before, during, and after Easter dinner with the occasional whining and nagging thrown in for good fortune. Typically, the whining and nagging involved parents telling children to do the dishes. But not this year! Everyone that arrived early participated in chat time. Dinner and a show was scheduled for 4pm sharp.

What is usually a feast fit for a king, spread out on the dining room table and other surfaces nearby, with serving dishes filled to the brim, was instead a paper plate, plastic fork and knife, buffet style burger line. After we all dressed our burgers and loaded our plates to capacity with everything else, we began jockeying for seating positions in front of Mom and Dad's big screen TV.

It was FIGHT NIGHT!

UFC 81 "Breaking Point" was on deck and ready! (This fight took place in Feb, 2008...but next week...we are renting a fight on pay-per-view and will see a LIVE FIGHT! A first for me!!!)

Let me give you a little insight into Fight Night. Mom rents the DVDs on Netflix, in order of course. She has a very methodical and orderly mindset...and for those who know me well...know that I am the textbook definition of "the apple does not fall far from the tree" when it comes to structure and organization and all things that can often be described as anal retentive, but that's another story for another time.

The Buy In! During our very first fight night, Sister Y and I staged our betting. $1 a fight for preliminary and main card fights...and $5 for the main event. You want to play? You got to pay! To keep all things fair, Sister Y and I alternate who picks first. After prelim fights are over, we flip a coin as to who picks first for the big money, high buy in (LOL) main event. This week I won the flip of the coin! I was ecstatic! I was certain I had a good shot at a main event win and a chance to take the pot of $10. I think we have had three fight nights, and I was coming into the main event with a 1-1 win record.

Everyone else mirrored the betting style developed by the "sisters". Rodeo Drive J bets her boyfriend, NavyX, and now that Ms. Independent's boyfriend, The Shamrock, has joined our fight nights, she too has participated in the betting. But this night...Easter Sunday...Fight Night 81, The Shamrock had to work so Ms. Independent bet her uncle, Montana Man.

The other important item to note is the fight newbies (everyone other than mom and dad and maybe NavyX) do not have any clue as to who anyone is...not yet. Therefore, our betting is conducted immediately upon seeing the fighters...prior to the "tale of the tape". We bet based on picture and name alone. Then after bets are placed, someone usually groans about getting the guy who's making his UFC debut and the groaner is usually me. :)

The money is on the table...let's FIGHT!

The main event before the MAIN EVENT: Frank Mir and Brock Lesnar.



Brock Lesnar came over from the WWE (wrestling - ugh!). This man was a BEAST! The picture does not clearly define how his neck muscles began at the top of his head and extended clear down to his arms. He was a triangular muscle - one big MUSCLE. I didn't get the choice for this one and Sister Y went with Brock Lesnar and I went with former heavyweight UFC champion Frank Mir, with a sigh. He was cute for sure! But not quite the mammoth of a man that Brock is. It was Lesnar's UFC debut...but look at him. Did the fact that it was his debut really matter? In the world of mixed martial arts (MMA) and the UFC, no it did not! Not when you are THAT big!

The fight is on!

We're in the first minute of the fight and Lesnar is pounding Mir. Mir is no longer defending. OMG - the refs are going to call the fight, and then it happened. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes...I never ever would have believed it.

Frank Mir put him in a kneebar and it was over! Lesnar tapped out! I won! I couldn't believe it! Dad, Montana Man, and I were yelling with excitement...erupting in thunderous clapter! If I remember correctly, Montana Man jumped out of his chair like an F-16 pilot ejecting from the cockpit before the plane goes down. I think NavyX may have had Frank Mir as well...but at the point Frank Mir won by submission, there is no telling who was yelling and who was swearing! The fight was so unbelievable...over in a minute thirty...it was complete craziness!

The music plays. Each fighter comes out. And now...

Ihhhhhhhhtttttt's Time!

The Main Event:



The Interim Heavyweight Championship Bout!

Tim "The Maniac" Sylvia vs Antonio Rodrigo "Minotauro" Nogueira!

In my opinion, Tim Sylvia was winning each round. In others' opinions, Nogueira was winning, including the announcers. Obviously they saw something or a bunch of somethings that I didn't see. His MMA abilities were far less than Sylvia's, but whatever.

It didn't matter in the end. The third round...Sylvia makes a costly mistake. He leaves his neck and head exposed while in a take down move, wrestling on the floor, and Nogueira puts him in a guillotine choke... and a minute twenty eight in the third round...my guy taps out. :( I couldn't believe it. Sylvia looked to be a winner for sure.

But that's the UFC - you never know who is going to win. It's so amazing! Nothing is guaranteed!

And even better than Fight Night, was the reality of how we are changing as a family. We are changing our need for traditional and somewhat repetative holiday foods (the "repetative" is my opinion only). And we are changing how we celebrate our holidays.

I am so grateful for my family whom I love with all my heart. Thank you God. Thank you for giving me my family.

The Spare Room

I have a spare room. For the first time in 21 years.

At first I envisioned my daughter's former bedroom as a guest bedroom, with a queen bed, large TV and other remaining items that she didn't want to take with her to her new home. That would work out really well when Mr. and Mrs. P come to visit or my BFF visits from Louisiana.

Then it rapidly molded into a spare bedroom, one with a twin bed and toys...perfect for when my granddaughter JoLee gets older and wants to spend the night with Gramma.

And in a total of 9 days, it became the spare room...one for my favorite hobby - scrapbooking, but also one that will serve as an office for my laptop, printer, and file cabinet.

At present, it is several 2 x 4 tables at varying height levels, with a chair from the living room thrown in for comfort, okay - storage really, and a nicely scented candle. The walk in closet is so stuffed you can't walk in at all. But this room is a work in progress...and I intend to let it take shape slowly as the natural vibe of the room defines itself. Just as I am doing.

What once was...no longer is. But I do look forward to what it will become.

Feeling Peacocky!

Sister Y and I were on an adventure to find peacocks...and we found them everywhere. It was as if we were transported immediately to a local zoo. There were 20 or more peacocks near this old house, and it was at that time I discovered peacocks can fly...peacocks can climb into trees...and peacocks can climb onto a roof of a house or storage barn.

We were fortunate enough to see a male courting nearby females as he dispayed his plumage of brilliant train feathers, prancing about in full circle. And the sounds they made as they "called out" to one another in courtship. Fascinating!

Such beauty, this feathery flying creatures.

A Road Less Traveled

I am a creature of habit.

I take the same roads to the same places to do the same things...most of the time.

Yesterday, however, I went for a drive with Sister Y in search of peacocks, yes...peacocks, which involved traveling down a road I had never been on in the ten years I've lived here. I typically do not undergo this type of "exploration" at 5 pm on a Monday after a long day at work. And if something of a mini-road trip were to occur, on any given day, I overload myself and my ability to chill out with the need for a plan: where we are going, when will we be coming home, and if we don't find what we are looking for...what will we do then?

But this time...this trip...I discovered that most of my habitual behaviors are entirely ego based in order to feel more comfortable and secure with the unknown, and if I just remove my self-placed obstacles, I can truly relax, find peace, and enjoy being in the moment.

I took a journey down a road less traveled. I discovered more about myself during this spontaneous three hour trip, than I ever have during any pre-planned itinerary driven adventure.

I am blessed with abundant opportunities to travel a path I've never explored, to take the road to the left or right, when going straight becomes too common. I am now aware that these opportunities should not be taken for granted. They should be acted upon.

The Next Chapter...

She packed her boxes and began to cry

Tears streaming down her face

She said she was scared, she didn't know why

Yet excited to begin life in her new place

She looked at her boyfriend, her smile so wide

And together they loaded up her things

So new to each other as they take the next step

In a "life together" and all that it means

The last in line, the youngest of three

18 years so fast, but look at how she's grown

She hugs her tightly, and kisses her goodbye

With a sigh, she watches her daughter leave home

Not 24 hours later, the telephone rings

Her daughter's words choked by the soft sound of tears

"I didn't know it would be his hard" she explains

Mommy's little girl, now a woman, facing her own fears

She is comforted by the soothing words spoken

Words of wisdom shared with her from Mom

"It is perfectly normal to be sad for awhile"

"It gets much easier as time moves on"

"Remember this, we are mother & daughter forever

No matter where you live or where you call home"

"While you are starting a brand new chapter

I, too, am beginning the next chapter of my own"

She tells her daughter she will figure it out

"Take each day as it comes and you will see"

They end the call and as she hangs up the phone

"Thank you, God, for helping me let her leave"

Ft Bragg and Family Time

I put the thought out there, during my time of desperate yearning for a coastal trip, and as it always happens...thought becomes reality. I went to my favorite getaway and to my usual spot, but this time I made the trip with my parents and my sister - no kids allowed! It was the first time we all had gone to Ft. Bragg together.

My sister played with her new Nikon camera that is comparable to something a photography pro uses as he/she perches in a tree outside a celebrity's house. Me? I had my little Sony Cybershot that to this day has some pretty cool features I have yet to master. At various points I just gave up taking pictures and let Sister Y do all the work. 2,800 plus pictures later...I just copied her camera card. No one needs to know who really took the picture, do they? (Just kidding Sister Y.)


(photograph taken by ME! LOL)

The first day there was windier than it has ever been during my previous visits. Between the sand pelting you in the face, neck, head, and back and the wind blowing so hard you thought you were going to be swallowed up into the sky like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, there were many moments of hysterical laughter and silent observation of Mother Nature's beauty. When we weren't outside trying to stand up straight in the wind, or capture the "perfect shot", we were inside playing cards and hanging out.

Some great moments of our mini-vacation...

• The Gambling - We hit all the indian casinos on the way there...and two on the way back (repeats). We didn't take any of our big winnings home...but I was pretty excited when I hit for 404 pennies on a 25 cent pull. Mom, Dad and Sister Y were on a hot streak - winning up to $60 total on nickels and pennies - each of them. Sister Y said "the mojo changed" when I walked up and she started losing. I walked away and she hit for $19. Go figure. It wasn't Las Vegas - but it was a lot of fun anyhow!
• The Cliff House - A beautiful restaurant that looks like a little hole in the wall that is situated next to a trailer park. But when you walk in and descend several flights of dining tiers and sit at full length windows overlooking Noyo Harbor, it is simply breathtaking. We laughed so hard during dinner, I'm certain we disturbed other diners. But Mom's steak and lobster dinner, and its price, made for some entertaining jokes that had us laughing hysterically, right through dinner and into the parking lot when all was said and done.
• Pt Cabrillo Lighthouse - I had hoped that we would see deer as I have in prior trips. We were just about ready to leave (I was complaining of being tired and hungry - not much has changed since I was a child on vacation) when five or six deer came to the grassy area to feed. We sat for what seemed like an hour observing these beautiful animals. Then as we were driving back to main parking area, we spotted several more deer. The pictures are amazing!
• Ft Bragg - The hotel, the ocean, the coastal craggy cliffsides, the waves, the smell of salt in the air...what else is there to say?
• The Trip Home - I hadn't ever seen the "Elk Crossing" sign and joked with Sister Y about how we need to take a picture and email it to her husband, Montana Man, who was working out of town. With that said, I spotted elk on the side of the road. We pulled over...quickly...and captured 23 elk on film, oops...on digital card? Whatever. Then outside one of the smaller cities on the way home, we spotted a peacock on the side of the road. Sister Y was behind the wheel and the screeching tires and crunching gravel sent the peacock into hiding. It was the most beautiful turquoise blue I have ever seen. We are planning a trip to the peacock hiding areas soon for pictures!

But one of the greatest moments happened at Pt Cabrillo lighthouse. It is a half mile walk from the gift shop and main parking lot to the actual lighthouse. The sign says it is a road that can be traveled, and yes it is paved. But when you approach the small road, another sign indicates the road is for handicap vehicles only. "Pedestrians only - no vehicles allowed" Honestly - it was extremely confusing. Dad, Sister Y and I walk down there...only to find a large parking lot, and cars that do not have handicap placards. What? Others have driven down here and we walked a half mile, all downhill but still...we faced an uphill climb the entire way back. All of a sudden here comes Mom driving her truck down the road. When she parks and gets out she says something about it being the off season and if anyone asks why she drove down there she will say she made a mistake and won't ever do it again. Then she said "I say try it - why not". The three of us that were facing the uphill battle thanked her in the end as Sister Y and I rode in the back of the truck (like the old days) to return to my car in the main parking area. We were truly grateful for the ride!

During this trip I was reminded of many things:

• There is nothing to fear if you make an honest mistake!
• Order what you want from the menu - just to say you did it!
• Celebrate the small victories in life and be satisfied with what you won!
• Time spent with family fills the heart in many ways!

It's Official - The Nest Is Empty!

Yep - The nest is empty! Not in a manner of all my financial eggs fell out of the "nest egg"...there weren't any of "those" eggs in there to begin with. Nope - this is the "all the eggs have hatched and the baby chicks have flown the coop" situation!

I had just returned from Ft Bragg moments before the big news was delivered. Although I had suspected a momentous announcement of sorts would be forthcoming, I must admit I didn't expect it THIS SOON. My baby girl, my youngest child, my only daughter moved out of my home and into her boyfriend's home April 1st. The emotional state of it all...on both sides of the female fence...was fraught with highs and lows of extreme happiness and melancholy. As she packed her life into boxes and prepared to move into a life that is "unknown", she cried, I cried, and we both wondered what tomorrow would look like.

After she left, I stood in her nearly empty bedroom. I took a deep breath and drank in the moment of being alone...alone with my thoughts, my plans, my life. I think the "empty nest" gig is going to work out better than I thought it would. I look forward to see what tomorrow will bring in the next chapter of my life.