This is just great !!!!!!!!!!

When your doctor wants blood work, it generally isn't a good thing. So when my doctor told me to get blood work done.  I put it off a few days, OK a few weeks, but one of those weeks I was at the beach.  My plan (I always have a plan) was to walk, eat right, and come back and get my blood work done. I did walk and I did, kind of, eat right. I just forgot about a few foods that are high in cholesterol like say ice cream, milk, cheese, shrimp and cheese pizza. Then there was the cheese burger at Max and Erma's. Remember that was Justin's idea. Anyway, I finally got around to going to the hospital for my blood test on Tuesday. I have to add here that it is very difficult to draw blood from me and I also bruise afterwards.  Anyway, I went for my blood test and thought this will probably take a week or so for the results and maybe they will get misplaced for a few days in my doctor's office or maybe he will not have time to look at them right away. Well so much for that. When your doctor calls your house in the evening it usually isn't to catch up for the day. So as I was munching on some M&M's last night and face booking, the phone rang, guess who? Rob should of just told him I was out jogging but instead handed me the phone. "I guess you've been expecting my call?"  Why would I expect his call? It isn't like he is a face book friend. "Not really" I said.  "Well your cholesterol is over 300 and you need to pick up a prescription at your drugstore tomorrow night." he said.  This cholesterol thing has always been a source of irritation for me. In our 20's Rob ate everything wrong like foot long Italian hoagies, steak, meat with a side of meat, 4 egg omelets with cheese and bacon and had low cholesterol. I on the other hand ate cereal, oatmeal, fish, chicken, salad and had high cholesterol. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but give me a break. So today while I had chicken and low fat yogurt for lunch I watched Brandy eat a huge hamburger with extra cheese and bacon. I spent sometime today looking up low cholesterol desserts. Number 1 on the list was rice cakes. I really don't think a rice cake should be considered a dessert.  Brandy didn't appear to be too sympathetic when she continued to talk about getting a cookie dough blizzard tonight after her class. I think Brandy forgot that she wants me to help her on a paper for one of her night classes, and no I was not bitter when she told me her blood work is perfect. I actually hate people like Brandy but that is another blog. So tonight I'm working on my shopping list for low fat, low cholesterol foods and wondering what Ben and Jerry's has in the way of cholesterol free ice cream.

Too much stuff

We have too much stuff. I have no idea where it all came from or what to do with it. Rob is part of the problem. He won't get rid of anything, obviously because I'm still around. Anyway, only last summer did he finally give away his clothes from high school. The attic is full, so full that I have worried that Rob and I would die in bed together being crashed to death when the attic collapses on top of us. I even at one point asked my friend Kathy to clean out my attic if I died before her.  Our garage is full too. We have a storage building that is full, also. Honestly, I don't know how it happened, but being sentimental doesn't help. Every time someone in the family dies, we tend to inherit things and feel bad about getting rid of the heirlooms, so we have china, silver, crystal, photos, books, paintings, knickknacks, and journals all from deceased family members. Rob and I both like books, so we have lots of books. I am in the category of sentimental mothers who kept every school paper and art project Justin ever did. Just in case he would ever become President of the United States and they would want these things for his Presidential library.  Our attic has 4 wings, the Justin wing, the holiday wing, the Rob and Debra wing and the clothes wing. My holiday wing and clothes wing grew so much that we had to rent a storage unit in Kingwood. I like to decorate for holidays, but I use to REALLY like to decorate for holidays. I had the fall tubs, Halloween tubs, Thanksgiving tubs, Hanukkah tubs, Christmas tubs, Mardi Gras tubs, Valentine's Day tubs, Easter tubs, summer tubs. I even had directions in the tubs for Rob as to where to put the decorations just in case, you know, something happened to me. Well, that was all before Prozac and know I honestly don't give a shit, but we still have all the decorations. The abundance of clothes has to do with us both working and needing seasonal clothes, so there are sweater tubs, clothes racks for fall, winter, spring and summer clothes. I plan to get rid of many of these clothes when I retire. I plan to live in bath suits and pajamas.  Lately, I have been giving away many things, especially clothes, and giving things to the Salvation Army and Goodwill. I think getting lazy is part of it. I don't really want to do crafts anymore or many of the things I once did. We are downsizing our computer room because we generally use laptops now. I try to pawn things off on Justin. I recently gave him the tub of his stuffed Easter Bunny Collection.  The collection consist of a bunny for every Easter. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. They are cute but what do you do with 20 some stuffed Easter Bunnies. Rob has a stamp collect. He also likes tools and I don't think we have ever thrown a can of paint away. I forgot about the basement.  We can never totally move or sell our house because I find the idea of going through everything too painful.  We have filled the beach house up in the last year with the contents of Rob's parents home, so I'm not allowed to take anything there. Justin is an only child. He gets everything and I mean everything.

Still tramatized......... The saga and drama cont.

We were finally taken off stand by and put on the flight to Pittsburgh. We arrived to a cold day and Cassie and Justin waiting. I was still in flip flops and capris. Life can be so cruel. Justin wouldn't let me go to the bathroom because he said he was hungry and we needed to leave immediately for the restaurant. Once in the restaurant, I was allowed to go to the bathroom. On the way back from the bathroom the hostess asked me if my feet were cold. I tried to explain that I had just gotten off a plane from Daytona and that is why I was dressed the way I was.  She didn't seem to buy it.  We ate at Max and Erma's. My hamburger and fries were rather tasty. After lunch, I just wanted to head home. No chance of that option. Justin wanted to stop at Gander Mountain. I slept in the car and waited for him to finish shopping. I did ask him to get me a Diet Pepsi. He told me that I would have to wait until Morgantown, that he wasn't going to get off the interstate for a Diet Pepsi. We stopped at Sheetzs  and I finally got my drink.  Then we had to stopped at Subway in Kingwood.  12 hours later we walked in the door. We could have driven home as fast as this day had taken and I would not have had to get up in the dark and be attacked by the tree frog. As we walked into the house, we discovered that Midnight had thrown up three different times. Justin, of course, started complaining about the cat saying that when I am gone he becomes bulimic and psychotic, Midnight not Justin. I had Rob clean that mess up because I was still too tramatized from the tree frog. Actually, I realized I had enough for the day. I was cold. I was facing work the next day. I realized my tan was already fading and at that moment life seemed even more cruel than I remember before I left for Florida. I had no choice. I went to bed to try and begin my slow and painful recovery.  THE END

Tree Frog Day cont.

So off we went to the airport. I'm one of those people who think there are signs in the morning as to what the rest of your day will be like. I think the tree frog was meant to be a my sign for the day. We get to the airport, check in and load onto the plane. So far so good, but not for long. The next 2 hours we sat in the plane on the tarmac waiting for take off. The Atlanta airport was closed due to a major storm, and that was our destination for our transfer flight. Thank God I had Rob buy those bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits to go. We chatted with a lady from Arkansas and ate our biscuits.  Finally, after 9:30  our 7:25  flight took off. The only problem was our connector flight was leaving Atlanta at 10:00. At about this moment the pilot informed us that they (Delta) realized that many of us on the plane were missing our connector flights to other places and they would do what they could to make sure that we got where we were suppose to be sometime that day. Sometime today! I have a schedule, a plan, I  just a few hours earlier, had been attacked by a tree frog.  The passengers are told to check their boarding passes at Atlanta to see what flight they have been transferred to. If we ever get to Atlanta.  Finally, we are near the airport when the pilot informs us that because the airport has been closed the arriving flights are backed up and we will need to go into a heading pattern until it is our turn to land. Thank God for the baggie of gummy bears I packed in my purse for emergencies.  30 minutes later we land. Our next connector flight was suppose to be 11:17 but it is 11:05. Could we get off the plane, run through the airport and be able to board in time?  I envisioned myself running through the airport. OK, so walking as fast as I can. I hate to hurry but I did and we made it to our boarding area only to be told we were on stand by. Now we have to call Justin and tell him we are going to be even later. The gummys are gone. Delta only serves Diet Coke. The tree frog was definitely sent as an omen. To be cont.

Attack of the Tree Frog

I should have known what this day would be like when the alarm went of at five. Five o'clock in the morning is not a natural time to get up on a Sunday, but there was a 7 AM flight to catch to return to my so called normal work life. I drug myself out of bed put on Capri's, the warmest sweater I had in Florida and my thickest flip flops to head back home to WV.  I headed downstairs to gather my last items to put in my carry on bag for the plane. Hearing Rob in my head saying "Don't forget your phone and charger." Into the kitchen I went to retrieve my phone from the counter. Half asleep I reached for my phone on the counter from its usual spot. Out of no where came this thing after me. I screamed. My eyes adjusted and the thing was now stuck to the kitchen wall. There on my kitchen wall was a tree frog clinging to the wall with its little webbed feet. I yelled for Rob and told him to get downstairs. He yelled back that he had just stepped out of the shower. I said to hurry downstairs. He came running downstairs asking me what was wrong. I said, "Look!" There is a frog on the wall.  He said, "I don't see a frog."  I'm thinking how can you not see the frog hanging on the wall. I yelled, "The frog, see, the frog hanging on the wall under your fake hot peppers."  Rob looked at the frog. The frog looked at Rob, with some look like "you sure have some crazy ass wife there, buddy." Rob commented, "Wow, that is a frog!" "Wonder where it came from."  "Wonder where it came from?"  "Get it out of here, it attacked me." I have no idea why Rob thought he could catch a tree frog with a pizza box, but he did. After two attempts, and the frog now on top of the refrigerator, I left the room. I thought I'd better calm my nerves so I got the lap top out and got on face book. A knock at the door, I jumped up by passing the kitchen and answered the door.  It was Dan the Man, neighbor and resident marine biologist. "Dan, there is a tree frog on my kitchen wall," I said.  "That will happen here in Florida," Dan the Man said. It probably came in the door when you had it opened. "Get a broom stick and get it to jump on the broom stick, then you can carry it outside."  "Rob chased it up on the refrigerator with a pizza box," I said. "Why did he do that?" Dan asked. " I don't know, he thought he could catch it." "What happens now?" I asked. " I take you to the airport and you come back in a couple of months to a dead tree frog." To be cont...........

Spicy and Bland

Rob is spicy and I am bland. This has nothing to do with sex or personality. It does describe our food preferences. Rob loves hot and spicy. He has cabinets full of hot sauces. He collects hot sauces and uses hot sauce on everything. He talks hot sauces with people. Friends come over to our house and try his hot sauces. He cooks with them. He grows hot peppers and makes relishes with the peppers. His love of hot peppers and hot sauces is endless. I, on the other hand, am bland. I like mashed potatoes, cereal, milk, macaroni and cheese, mild wings, pudding, cheese pizza, etc.  I could eat cereal for every meal. Rob thinks this is disturbing. I think it is disturbing to eat something that has the potential to burn your mouth and lips and cause a person to drool. One of the first times Rob made pasta for us, he made it too spicy. I did not remain calm because I was hungry and really looking forward to a nice dinner. I took one bite and had to spit it out. Rob never made that mistake again.  We else make many dishes two different ways or we make it bland for me and then he spices his to suit his taste.  Rob thinks I have food issues. I think I just know what I want. For instance, I hate tea. I mean hate it with a passion, like gag me with a spoon. If any kind of tea touches my lips, I have to spit it out. I don't care where I am.  If I were in the White House, I would have to spit it out. I also hate olives and capers. Disgusting, with a capital D.  Rob loves them. I do love candy. Rob thinks my love affair with candy borders on addiction. Excuse me but I don't have cabinets full of candy and invite people over to try a million different varieties and call it fun. I actually prefer not to share my candy. Then there is pop. Everyone thinks I'm addicted to Diet Pepsi. I have to drink something because I hate tea.  Plus in every other area of our life I am anything but bland, so give me some mashed potatoes with a side of macaroni and cheese and a Diet Pepsi to drink, please.

Power of One

Funny how things happen. This morning I thought a good blog would be about the Power of One. Today at the beach a couple of people came to mind that recently have reminded me about the Power of One. On our walk home this evening from a perfectly gorgeous day at the beach, I noticed a man with a tee-shirt on with the words across the front in bold print, The Power of One. So I know, my blog tonight was meant to be the Power of One. I've always believed in the Power of One. I mean how could anybody brought up in a Christain household as a child, going to Sunday school and church, not believe in the Power of One. So what does the Power of One mean to me. It means having the strength and faith to stand up for what you know is right, even if you are all alone. The Power of One can be a lonely place and many times you aren't real popular. Some have even been crucified for their beliefs and standing up for them. I admire those who stand up for the right thing and obviously believe in the Power of One. Recently, a parent at school took a stand and basically took on the powers that be by herself. I admire her. We all should. So what could the Power of One mean. First a much better world for all of us.  Think if all of us took it upon ourselves to be the Power of One for ourselves, our families, our neighborhoods, our schools, our communities etc. If we all became compelled to stand up for the right things and not back down.  The impact that the Power of One could make on society if we all just took one non-relative under our wing and and helped them to improve their life. One million people helping another million people. The Power of One is a pretty simple concept and all you have to worry about is what you are going to do. There is no one to point fingers at or blame if something doesn't get done. So are you thinking about where you could start?  Be the Power of One with your own family, your spouse, children, and parents. Be the Power of One at your children's school, place of worship, neighborhood park, or workplace. Volunteer an hour a week. Clean out your home and donate. Help someone else. You don't have to help a million people, just one. If everyone just helped one person and passed it on. That would become the Power of One.

Why Don't Our Families Recognize Our Talents?

After a fun filled day, Rob and I retreated to the couch. I turned toward him and mentioned that I needed to write my blog post but wasn't sure I knew what I was going to write about. He informed me that he really didn't spend much time worrying about that. I just assumed he didn't care but I just had to ask why? He rather blatantly suggested that I was so full of BS that I always come up with something. When I looked at him like what did you say? He clarified his statement with "I mean you are always so creative."  We all know what the real truth is here, don't we? I along with other people (David refers to these people as my cult following) think I'm very creative. David and Rob find my writings annoying not creative. Rob views my home decorating ventures as "just more work for me" not as an artistic expression in our home.  My flower beds that I see as creating a beautiful, display of color on the landscape of our home, he sees as something to mow around. The art work I acquire for our homes he complains is just something else to hang up. Rob obviously doesn't see or appreciate my creative talents for writing, home decorating, landscaping, and just generally being wonderfully creative. I could be hurt or bitter but I'm not, I just consider the sources.  David use to think red and burgundy looked good together, which also makes me question our high school class that voted him best dressed. Rob will never admit this, but I don't mind sharing that he asks me every morning if what he has on matches.  I find myself quite amusing, talented, creative, and modest.  Just saying Rob and David.

DO NOT TRY THIS

Everyone has heard the disclaimer ...... Do Not Try This At Home.  Well, there needs to be one for the beach, too. My observations of people at the beach today brought me to this conslusion. I think people think once you have a bathing suit on, your hair is blowing in the ocean breeze, and your feet touch the sand that somethng magical happens to your body. There is a reason that boogie boards are mainly sold to kids and teenagers. They are not designed for worn out hips, knees, and bodies carrying around 50 plus pounds, but people try. So on my rather peaceful stroll down the beach with Rob, we once again observed the middle age father trying to show his son how to boogie board. The toss of the board onto the wave, the run for the board and then the full body belly smack into a three inch wave hitting hard sand. The next observation was the Mom and Grandmother playing beach paddle ball. Now if you have never in your life played ping pong or tennis, why would you think you could play beach paddle ball?  It was amusing. I laughed so hard I almost chocked on my Pina Colada slushy. Yesterday was a different story. There was a large group of college kids playing beach volleyball, soccer, and boogie boarding. They were graceful, agle, quick with their feet. Their muscles rippled when they ran, not an ounce of fat. They would run to their boards, ride out a wave and end it with a 360 and a toss of their hair. I watched all this from the safety of my beach chair. I know what I'm capable of at the beach. Rob fills up the beach cart with everything I might need for the day, and off we go. I place myself in my chair with cupholder and beach bag and cooler near by for my needs. I have even learned to wear  a bathing suit that allows for quick trips to the bathroom. I don't pretend that I once knew how to surf or boogie board. I nap, read magazines, go for walks, pick up shells, and occasionally reapply my sunscreen to prevent wrinkles.  PLEASE DO NOT TRY THIS AT THE BEACH !!!!  THANK YOU!!

Shopping confessions

I confess.  I love Dollar General Stores. Rob drives me all the way to Florida and we are surrounded by all kinds of stores and malls and I go to the Dollar Store. I also like Big Lots. There is a new Family Dollar store right down the street. I go there too.  I know I'm crazy but I love bargains.  I do go to some of the boutiques down here like Flamingo Rose and The Sandbox but I only shop off the bargain/clearance racks. I have to confess I even hate to pay full price at the Dollar Store and look for the clearance rack there also as soon as I walk into the store. We go to the Daytona Beach Flea Market.  Remember the place that you can get your teeth bleached or buy a motorcycle. On the way to Florida we stop at a place called JR's.  They have good deals. I always find something at JR's. It  reminds me of an upscale Cool Springs without the foot long hot dogs. We've been in Ormond for two days and I've already been to Dollar General and Big Lots. I always have something to look for when I'm shopping. I'm shopping for prizes for the Chili Cook-off at the Thirsty Bear. I check in with Brandy to see if she thinks something is a good idea.  I feel better that I made this confession because I don't want anyone to think I'm a Talbot's, Macy's, Neiman Marcus or Bloomingdale's kind of girl. I also will check things out at Goodwill or Salvation Army.  Some of my friends do to but I won't mention their names because they may not want anyone to know. I don't worry about designer names or labels because my personality over rides anything I have on that day. I like my surroundings to have an eclectic look so I don't spend a great amount on home furnishings either.  I like to shop at Baretts Bargains and Primitives in Rowlesburg. If I know of a good yard sale I'll scout out things there. Our realtor here in Ormond moved to Europe and I got great deals at his yard sale on Lenox glasses, art work, chess sets, kitchen appliances, and a designer chair. So there you have it. I am a bargain shopper and I'm talking Dollar Store bargain shopping.

Hair/ not the rock opera

Does anyone else have hair issues? I never know what to do with my hair. It has been super long, super short, straight,  permed,  frosted,  highlighted,  chunks of color. I've done french braids, pony tail, long and straight, pulled back in a barrette, pony tail with scrunchie (remember those)???? I asked Rob if I could get my hair cut short. He said no. I asked Brandy at school the other day if she thought I should get it cut short. She said no. She said I think your hair is kind of short now. Brandy is young. She remembers me when my hair was down to my butt, before I cut it twice for Locks of Love. When I met Rob my hair was really short. I cut it my senior year after years of having long, straight, hippie hair. You know "darlin' give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair", well so much for that with menapause. So tonight I'm sitting here thinking, what next? I'm thinking the wet look. You know that just got out of the shower look. Some mornings when I have to choose between facebook and my hair, I do the wet look anyway. I'm thinking with the summer and the beach. I could just get out of the shower, shake my head, and put some of that gel in it and look like I know what I'm doing or I could just came back from spring break and tell people that this look is really in at the beach. Color! I let the kids in my class choose colors sometimes. My hair is just pretty much a mess now. It hasn't been done professionally in a few months. I buy some of that root touch up stuff and try to cover up as much damage as possible. I don't know maybe I will have a contest on facebook to decide what to do. That worked with naming my plastic flamingos. Remember Flip and Flop. "There ain't no words for the beauty,  the splendor, the wonder of my hair ..............."

Happy Birthday Julie, my friend

How can I not write about Julie today. It is her birthday. She told me this morning that it is her 49th, but I could swear she said that last year. Her husband Mark and I are the same age.  The infamous Class of 76. He graduated from Kingwood High and me from Rowlesburg High. I don't remember Julie from those high school years because she was younger. Julie and I met while working at Central Preston Middle School. Our rooms were side by side and we were on the Related Arts Team together. I think our common interests brought us together. We both think everyone but us are stupid and annoying. It is good to have friends that share common interests. We also both knew how to kayak. We are both out spoken. I love Cher. Julie loves MaDonna and we both like Lady GAGA.  Anyway, so our friendship began.  We kayaked a couple of times together, rode bikes some, and took middle school age kids on trips from New York City to Washington, DC and in between. Julie is wild and crazy. I am calm and conservative. We balance each other very well. So we do things together that no one else will do with us, like go to a MaDonna concert, take middle school kids to downtown New York City, and feed deer Cheetos.  The deer feeding Cheetos incident took place at a conference  at Cannan Valley.  We also had a rather large bonfire that night made by a Kingwood Volunteer fireman, who will remain nameless.  I must add that Julie and I get blamed for many things we have never done but that is part of the mystic of our friendship. Julie's daughter and my son are the same age so we have shared many of their school adventures and activities together. Julie exercises everyday and I think about it. We both like Coors Light in bottles when we exercise. We both color our hair. We both drive our husband's crazy. We both get annoyed by everything and everyone easily. Neither of us are complainers. I wear sunscreen. Julie doesn't. She is the peanut butter to my jelly.  We love Sex in the City and making up stories and fictional companies. I would do anything for her like picking out pageant jewelry at 7 o'clock in the morning and holding it up to the light so she can see if it sparkles enough. Julie will do anything for me, like letting me use her beach house until I could get my own.  So Happy Birthday, Julie. I wish we could be together but better you in Preston County and me here in our beach town if we can't be together.

One of these days

One of these days ........... I'm going to eat an entire bag of M&M's at one time and not feel guilty.  I'm going to wear pj's all day.  I'm going to tell people exactly what I think.  I'm going to cut my hair really short. I'm going to walk at the beach in the morning instead of doing attendance and lunch count.  I'm going to wear hippie clothes again.  I'm going to buy the "White Album" on CD and spend the entire day listening to it.  I'm going to spend the day shopping at antique stores.  I'm going to buy a bag of Cheetos and feed the seagulls.  I'm going to float around on a raft in Cheat River.  I'm going to loose enough weight to get back into my kayak.  I'm going to write a book.  I'm going to kick an administrator and claim temporary insanity.  I'm going to kick them again and claim insanity.  I'm going to go deep sea fishing but not fish.  I'm going to go to Europe.  I'm going to write a book about the true reality of public schools. I'm going to take belly dancing classes. I'm going to join the Red Cross.  I'm going to go see my cousin in Africa. I'm going to publish a book of poems. I'm going to finish Rob's afghan that I started in the 1970's. I'm going to clean out the attic. I'm going to read more. I'm going to get a better attitude.

I do have a life

I do have a life Chris and anyone else who doesn't understand why I don't post or blog everyday. First, I have this thing called a job. It is teaching, so sometimes it is endless. This week I'm trying to get kids caught up on work they have missed while being out sick for days or weeks. I also have technology assignments that have to be graded. I have bus duty after school and various meetings. I generally leave the house around 7 and usually never get home until 5 or later. I generally bring something related to school home to do at night.  Second, my parents depend on Rob and me for shopping, laundry, etc. I spend hours doing things for them. Third, there is Justin. Anyone who knows Justin and his demands know at this point, that I need not explain anymore. Fourth, the house, we all know every thing women have to do around the house. Fifth, family obligations. Sixth, spending time with friends. (Yes, I do have friends.) Some of my friends are annoying like you Chris. Seventh, sleep. Eight, picking out jewelry and clothes for the next day  I know I am funny, amusing and entertaining on FB and my blog, but honestly there are times that I don't feel like being any of the above. There are days that I find everyone and everything ANNOYING. I would write on those days but it wouldn't be pleasant, or even less pleasant than usual. Honestly, there are days that I just think I'm boring and have nothing to say. I know having nothing to say will come as a shock to some of you, but really there are times I have nothing to say. There are times that I think about writing about things but I think it will be too controversial. Lately, if I have a moment, I like to just sit and think about the beach. Sometimes I think that people have to be sick of listening to me by now. I mean it is M&M's, suntan lotion,  jewelry, chocolate,  flip flops, David, my kids at school, Rob, stupid people, administrators, etc. over and over again. How much is one person expected to read about my issues?  But for you Chris and all the others out there, I will try and blog daily, even if I resort to telling you what I had for dinner and who all annoyed me today.

Somethng Worth Standing For

I believe that what seem like little, insignificant moments can have an ever changing impact on your life. A few years ago, a friend, Joan Pitzer told me that Rob and I should come to Monroe's on Saturday night for the Laurel Mountain Coffeehouse event. She thought I would like the musician, Andrew McKnight. That night began my love affair with Andrew McKnight and his music. He performed songs from his latest CD "Something Worth Sanding For" and I was hooked. I was hooked not only on his music but the lyrics of his songs. His songs have become anthems for the way I want to live. "Something Worth Sanding For" the title track of one of his CDs made me begin to think about what I wanted to stand for in life. I began listening to this CD traveling down the river road on my way to work in the morning. I love to learn the words to songs so I can sing along, so I began to listen intently to the lyrics of each song. Lyrics about being grateful, doing the right things, finding something worth standing for, counting your blessings, and truly understanding that good things matter. So Andrew words have become part of my mantra and his performances part of my life. I've traveled to his neck of the woods in Loudon County, Virginia and he has performed in my small hometown of Rowlesburg, WV. Last night at Monroe's was another chance to hear him perform live, so Rob, Justin, Cassie and I made a dinner reservation for 7 and found ourselves right beside Andrew's performance area. Lisa Taylor was also performing which made the evening extra special. Andrew and Lisa performed to a full house. I not only enjoyed the music but dinner, and the company of family and friends like Michelle, Julie, Mark, and Chris. " Good things matter after all."

Best left to professionals

I'm one of these people who is constantly torn between do it yourself and let the professionals do it. The older I get the more I tend to say "let's get someone professionally to do it."  First, haircuts and coloring, better left to professionals. There have been times in my life when the first thing Rob said when he walked in the door was "Cut your own hair again, didn't you?"  To this day, I'm not sure how he knew. Second, dental work. NO comment  needed here, but I will add that my endodontist is hot. Third, home repairs and remodeling are better left to the professionals, and from my experience the best thing is to go on a vacation and come back to the finished project. If you have to be present, as I was when work was being completed on our house in Florida, I advise to grab a drink and a good friend, your beach chairs and sit in the sun and watch. I'm sure the contractor in Florida enjoyed my company and comments. Plus, he wasn't too bad to look at either. Fourth, medical care. Although, I think since Web MD, I am capable of diagnosing most things.  I am still unable to prescribe drugs (legally) so I have found my family doctor and shrink most useful. Fifth, plumbing and electrical work. Need I say that electricity and water don't mix. Sixth, taxes. I hate to pay them and hate to do them, so I never have.( I do pay taxes.)  Seventh, fingernails. There is nothing better than a professional manicure. Eighth, car wash. I use to like to do this on a sunny summer day, until I found Sparkle Shine.  I sit in an air conditioned room with a Diet Pepsi and watch young guys, wash, polish, vac, and detail the inside of my vehicle. I always pick the Pina Colda air freshener when they give me a choice on how I want the vehicle to smell when they are finished.  Ninth, pet care. I love my Midnight, only the best for him.  Tenth, clothes/fashion. I could make my own clothes, but I think Rob would know.

Give me a break !!!

Style mistakes add years. I read this little piece on the yahoo news line tonight against my better judgement. GIVE ME A BREAK. Style mistakes don't add years. Kids add years. Crazy bosses add years. Laundry adds years. Husbands add years. Paper work adds years. Holidays add years. Stepping in a mud hole with your new flip flops adds years. Trying to be nice to people who drive you crazy adds years. Listening to people in "Positions" lie to you add years. High heels add years. Trying to look like you know what you are doing adds years. Trying to get your hair to look right in the morning adds years. Getting up before 9 o'clock adds years. Trying to fit into a pair of skinny jeans adds years. Root canals add years. Realizing the middle age guy lying beside you in bed is your husband adds years.  Looking down and seeing that you are wearing socks with sandals adds years. Learning that your designer sunglasses are bifocals adds years. Reading an article about style mistakes adding years to your look and realizing YOU DON'T CARE if you wear Mom jeans, sandals with socks, or twin sweater sets.   PRICELESS

So really what is important?

What really is important in life? I think the older a person gets the more they ask themselves this question. I ask myself this question often. Watching the news tonight is rather depressing for me. Another state is slashing their education budget to balance the state budget. The news announcer mentioned schools may be closed, teaching positions cut, arts and sports programs eliminated. The budget in our county education system is also making cuts. It is sad. I and many teachers already fund our classrooms and fill in the gaps with needed items that aren't supplied. So what is important in life, if not kids and education, what is important? At night watching TV and doing school work, I see where the rich, celebrities and famous have spent thousands on clothes, millions on homes and I think what just the cost of one of their gowns would buy for my classroom. Maybe I'm crazy but I think about being able to hire someone to strip and wax my classroom floor. I think of the millions that some have and how they could fund a field trip and really wouldn't miss the money at all. How many closets full of clothes do people need?  How many rooms in a mansion is enough? Do people become so removed from the reality of life in public schools that they really don't have any idea what daily life is like there? Maybe after almost thirty years I'm tired. Maybe after thirty years I just don't understand what others think is important or why?

Viewing a segment of your life

Cold, snowing, Sundays give me a time to reflect. So I am. A lesson I've learned in life is to stop and take a step back and view yourself as an outsider. Listen to yourself and what others around you are saying. Look at your actions and the actions of others you choose to be around. Examine your deeds and those of your friends. What do you hear and see? What do they say? In my later years, I have also asked myself what explanation would I give to God if he plays these segments back to me when deciding whether I'm worthy of him. Am I really as compassionate as I can be? Do I look out for others like I do my own family? Do I judge others and think myself better? Do I honor my mother  and father? Do I look out for the weak?  Do I take up for those who can't take up for themselves? Should I speak up more when others are judgemental and cruel with their words? I think too many of us never see the big picture. We get caught up in material things, our own kids, our own neighborhoods, our own families, our looks, our homes. We forget that we are all in this together. The older I get the more that I think words or lip service is not enough. Standing by quitely, while others discriminate, play favorites, judge others, and generally do wrong is not acceptable. I have the ability to upset others when I stand up for others, make a stand, or take up for others that some feel not worthy, but I think I have to answer only to one when the final segments of my life are played back for me to explain. There really is a bigger picture, much bigger.

Just Do It

I'm one of those people that just tend to do things. I start out with good intentions of making a list of pros and cons but I just never get to the pros or cons. I just make a decision and do something. Funny thing but my quick decisions have all turned out pretty good. Although, I wouldn't recommend this decision making style to others. Rob and I moved in together after only knowing each other two weeks. That will be 34 years ago in November. That didn't work out too bad. I'm not sure Rob would agree, but then again this is my blog. We bought our home on Oak Street on a whim and with no money per say, but 29 years later we still like our old house and enjoy hanging out there together. It is filled with memories and heirlooms from both sides of our families. Then there was Justin.  I don't remember making a pro or con list that morning. Cutting my hair or changing hair colors generally is a split second decision. I tend to just wake up on mornings proclaiming some change that is going to happen that day. Rob has become very accepting of my decision making process or lack of. The beach house purchase took us about 15 seconds because I couldn't even think of one con. When I decide to switch positions or schools, it usually just hits me like a bolt of lightning. I just tend to do things with out thinking much about it. I don't have a much patience's for decision making so maybe that is part of it. I don't like when there are 50 different choices of peanut butter so I just choose one. Rob and I definatley do not have the same style of decision making at times. Take shopping in the grocery store when decisions have to be made. He wants to walk up and down every aisle systematically and check out all 50 different jars of peanut butter. I want to randomly run around the store getting what we need, check out the candy aisle and get out of there. I'm thinking about retiring and people ask me when. I don't know. I'll decide some morning when I feel it is right. I'll probably just wake up, decide I don't want to work any more and tell Rob to call me in retired, then everyone will know.

Advice for Charlie Sheen

Hey Charlie, just a little advice. You need help, professional help. You have a high possibility of being mentally ill, which means you need professional help from a psychiatrist and medication. You are also a drug addict, so ditto that professional help. The girl friends in your house were called bimbos in my Mom's generation and just plain sluts in mine. None of you are fit to be parents or role models to the twins, and let's face it the nanny is probably the real person raising the kids. Please get off of TV. I'm beyond being irritated with your nonsense. Media, and for you, quit putting drug addicts on TV as entertainment.  Charlie, shame on you for throwing away a career and salary that other people can only dream of. If your girl friends had to really raise those twins, clean house, cook, take out the trash, do laundry and have a real job on the side, I really doubt if they would be there for more than say a week, if that. As a teacher, I really wonder who will help the twins, in future years, with their homework when you are drugged up and partying? Forget it, I already now the answer to that. Somebody seriously needs to tell you the same thing I tell my fourth graders at times, "You are not cute, or funny." One more thing, if you have so much money to throw away on drugs, I could use a few things for my classroom. You think you are so great, come live with me a month and I'll give you some free attitude adjustment therapy. Seriously, be a real hero to your kids, GET HELP!

Sunday dinner

Today while my cousin was giving the eulogy at my Uncle Jim's funeral, he mentioned how he missed Sunday dinner at the Grandparent's house. I've seen black and white, scalloped edged photographs of Sunday dinners at my maternal grandparent's home in Grafton. I'm one of the youngest cousins so I have few memories of the Sunday dinners there but many memories of Sunday and holiday dinners at my paternal grandparent's home in Rowlesburg. We are "common folk" so family meals were homemade with love and homegrown vegetables and fruits, canned during the hot, humid summer days, and stored away for meals like these. Adults surrounded the dining table and kids find space wherever to consume their plate. My Grandmothers were great cooks and we grew up with treats like homemade desserts and root beer made and bottled at home by my Grandmother. Grace was always said and plates were cleaned. There was talking, sharing, and playing. My cousin, Terry, made me think about what we have given up with not making time for Sunday dinners and what are our children missing from this tradition. Modern society has placed great emphasis on sports and organized activities for our kids that flow through the week into the weekend and then some. We grab fast food meals to fit into our fast paced life. So, as Terry said, the cousins only see each other at weddings and funerals now, and lately, way too often at funerals. We reacquaint ourselves, try to catch up, reminisce, and introduce the younger cousins to each other at these ceremonial events. Everyone has grown up and aged, and one can't help but  reflect on where the time has gone. My Mom made the statement yesterday that she has everything she needs. I know that that she didn't mean material things. I hope I'm intelligent enough to make more time for my family and cousins. Terry also reminded us that none of us know how much time we each have on earth or with our families.  It could be years or just a few moments more, so choose your moments and memories wisely.