JCK88

Keeping you and your daughter of the heart in our prayers. I hope someday she is free for adoption.

I talked my daughter out of spending $298 on a prom dress she had her heart set on. I showed her a pattern quite similar to it which I can get for $1.99 when JoAnn's has their pattern sale and I found fabric for $5 a yard that looks almost like the one on the dress she liked. I reminded her about the gorgeous dress I made for her that cost eight dollars, even with a beaded bodice and she conceded that maybe I could pull this off, too. I told her quite frankly that we could do the dress for around $50 or less and she agreed that would leave money for nice accessories and shoes. I also showed her some dresses on ebay that were even less than that. She is paying for her prom dress herself...so you'd think she'd be frugal!!! Geesh. I told her if I sewed her one, I'd pay for it. LOL

Sometimes a phrase gets stuck in your head. It's like having a tune such as "Yellow Submarine" playing in your brain for weeks. Someone I once knew calls this a "mind worm." It happened to me again this week. The mind worm struck. The phrase in question was something the neighbor of a missing girl told the press. "When something like this happens, it reminds you of the dangers of ordinary life." My ordinary life is dangerous, all right. It always has been. When I was two, my brother opened the car door and shoved me out. Yes, I lived. My shoulder was dislocated, though. When I was seven, my brother made me cross a railroad bridge over a waterfall, a bridge that had no side rails and seemingly wide gaps with nothing under it between the rails. That was dangerous. When I was 9, my brother and I caught the thieves who had stolen my mother's Sierra Gold '57 Chevy. Only they got away again while we went to call the police. Or they would have, if I hadn't stood in front of the car. They swerved just in time and sped down the road where my father, on his way home, saw the car and followed it. Realizing they were being followed, they turned back, got panicked, and struck the side of a building, smashing the car. Their ordinary lives were really dangerous. When I was 10, my brother almost drowned me. I'm not sure if this was intentional, but given the car incident and the bridge thing, it's pretty suspicious. When I was 12, I got my hair caught in a mail slot. At 13, I was riding a bike and nearly got hit by a bus.. And when I was 22, I got cancer. At 27, I got it again. At age 28, I became a newspaper reporter and started doing deliberately dangerous things such as interviewing kidnappers in jail and going out late at night to accidents and fires. These are the dramatically dangerous things in my life. Let's not forget the countless times I've nearly dropped the hairdryer in the sink or almost set the house on fire forgetting a pan on the stove. Should we include the time I broke my toe answering the phone? Or isn't that dangerous enough? What about last week when I was carrying the ash bucket and tripped, knocking my head on a wooden box and slamming my shoulder into the floor? This phrase "danger in an ordinary life" has been haunting me as I try to chalk up the ones I've experienced and begin to wonder what other dangers I could be headed into. There was the danger of divorce in my life. There was that feeling of stepping off a diving board into an empty pool as I got a full-time job for the first time and learned to live alone, to create a life by myself from scratch. But that turned out right. It wasn't really dangerous to do that. It just felt like it was. Then there was another walking–off-the-edge moment of realizing I'd fallen in love again. That seemed dangerous at the time, too. But it turned out okay. Now there's super germs, food borne pathogens, worldwide terrorist cells, a trashed economy, and potential social unrest looming on the horizon. Those are dangers, aren't they? I don't know, maybe I should just stay home---wait, that's what I'm doing! And I still burnt myself on a coffee pot, hit my head on a shelf, and dropped firewood on my foot. I guess it's true, then. Ordinary life IS fraught with danger and anything can happen at any time as we go about the normal, sometimes numbing order that shapes our days. I thought this should bother me more than it does. But I was wrong. "Life is good" proclaims a T shirt I saw in the supermarket. "Each day is a gift" says a magnet in the Hallmark Store. I had giddy thoughts of making one that said, "Ordinary life is dangerous! Life is Good! Each day is a gift! Don't burn yourself!" But I chuckled, remembering my father telling me if we hadn't been born there wouldn't be such a good chance of dying. His conclusion was remarkably similar to the one King Solomon came to. "Do what you can, while you can and honor God while you do it." So as I head off to do the laundry with "Yellow Submarine" running through my head, I decide that mind worms aren't too bad. They aren't even mildly dangerous although they could be considered part of ordinary life, which IS truly filled with hidden horrors, blind driveways and dangerous detours. So how bad could things be? Dangerous! Yes. But we're in it together. That thought comforts me as I contemplate an unknown future. Life is not more dangerous now. It's always been dangerous. It's always been a shaky proposition, this thing called survival and those who make it aren't any more special than you and me. Ordinary life? Sure I laugh in the face of danger! I got up this morning, didn't I? And come to think of it, so did you. I'd say we're off to a good start here. Just please; never play "Yellow Submarine" within 12 yards of me. You know, mind worms.

Hang in there Angela...God will keep blessing you if you keep making the efforts. Somehow, it will work out. Remember, it has so far....

Oh..good knives are a serious prep. We were lucky to be gifted with a good set of knives when we got married 20 years ago and they have stood up well to the many sharpenings we've subjected them to. When you are slicing your tomatoes with ease and cutting through meat like its butter, you will not regret this.

The message is clear. Time to move....Make inquiries, apply for teaching jobs where they are needed and trust that God is taking you where you need to be. It's hard to leave a place when you've been there a long time but you can't say hello to what's ahead until you let go of what you're in now. Keeping you in our prayers. King David said he never saw a righteous man go hungry or his seed beg for bread. (You might eat some weird stuff, but you won't go hungry--so trust that all will be well in the end even if it seems chaotic and scary right now)

I hope you feel better soon! (that freeze dry equipment looks great....and expensive!!)

How wonderful is the gift of this kind of love!

Ohhhhh Angela, WHAT are you trying to do to us??? LOL These look delicious and I will one day attempt a wheat-free adaptation of this and see how it goes. Thanks for posting this!

Awww Sweetie...I've traveled that road too. And now also rejoice with you because sometimes we just have to wait for our answer to many prayers. What a beautiful family you now have!

Oh Westie! I want pictures of that tap dance class!!! {{{Westie}}} ROFL

Ah...Stephanie, glad to read this. I've known some of what you posted but not all. I had a suspicion you'd like to go back to Arkansas from reading your fiction work on this site....you wrote that into your story and somehow I thought at the time that's your heart's desire. God bless you. You are a wonder and a great asset to this community here. Thanks for being YOU!

{{{Vic}}} So glad you can find peace in all of this. I understand what you mean. It was the same for me when my Dad passed. I still find comfort. Faith is such a good thing.

But Angela, when I talk to you on the phone, that's how I picture you!!! LOL

Once you do find a new place, you'll sort out where to store what! Good for you for keeping up with preps. Moving is stressful--even if you plan it. Hang in there, woman. It will work out somehow!

Angela, I hate it that you are there, too. But I'm proud of you for making the best of what you do have. Your kids will find a way out if you keep teaching them the right ways and God will bless all of your efforts as He has been doing.

Beeeee Yourself!" says the genie to Aladdin as he woos his princess. "Just be yourself!" moms urge their kids as they head off to the new school, nervous about making new friends. "Don't worry, just be you!" My Dad used to say when I'd ask if I looked okay. So it hit me the other day, that lately I don't feel like myself, what ever that means and I'm having trouble being something indefinable. Just what does it mean to be yourself? Father Edward J. Flannigan, the Catholic priest who founded Boys Town, an orphanage for boys that is now a center for troubled youth who said, "I've never met a bad boy." He was, perhaps, speaking of the inner person he could see in each child, I'm not sure. Bad boys? I've met plenty. And some of them wanted to date my daughter. I digress. I was talking about the inner person. I'm not sure I believe in the inner person any more than Dr. Willard Gaylin, clinical psychologist and author does. "A man may not always be what he appears to be, but what he appears to be is always a significant part of what he is," wrote Gaylin. "A man is the sum total of all his behavior." So it got to me, this idea of being myself because sometimes I think the inner me is better, kinder, gentler than the one that often appears during my days—irritated, tired, worn out, ticked off at the political state of my country, and sometimes even grouchy on message boards. Maybe Gaylin is right and there IS no inner me—just another aspect of the same old me, the me who is a total of all that I do, whether it is kind or hurried, or abrupt or patient. Perhaps what we are inside is simply another view, but not a truer one. I've always believed that human beings are multi-faceted like a gem and that how the light hits is what is highlighted. Some people are good in a crisis. Their noble side comes to the fore and lets the women and children first off the sinking ship. Others rape or steal inside the hurricane shelter, seeing fellow sufferers as prey instead of people. If I think I'm evil and I work very hard to hide it, to cultivate a persona of gentleness, kindness and courtesy and then die at 100 years old relieved to have kept the secret all my life, would I be welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven? If others perceive me as good, am I good? If the people who read blogs and message boards call me silly or stupid, am I? If someone thinks of me as self-centered, does that make me so? It was philosopher Immanuel Kant who said, "I have no knowledge of myself as I am, but merely as I appear to myself." But our knowledge of ourselves is not solely solipsistic. We get inklings of how others see us by their responses to our words and to our actions. Or sometimes, we really have no clue because they, perhaps wisely, don't tell us. We've become used to the Hollywood style of movie character villains with hearts of gold. We all know the anti-hero; the despicable one in the story who somehow charms us the way the troublemaker kids in classrooms are often the teacher's favorite. I'm the straightforward type, though. I don't want to know that Hitler loved flowers and puppies and was a sensitive artist. It wouldn't redeem him as a human being. I don't want to be told that he just wanted what was best for his country. That kind of information pales in light of his deeds. His inner life couldn't cancel out his deeds. I've often apologized for misdeeds, tried to explain. I've come to realize that reasons often don't matter to people. They can't see beyond what you have done or what you have said. And why should they? The inner person is not subject for perusal, for excuse or exoneration, for judgment or approval except by God who sees all. The inner person, the "real me" is just some fantasy that has no real standing. So the cool-headed teenage Judy who leaped out of a car that had just crashed and dropped a dime into a nearby phone booth to be the first to call in the accident might have nothing to do with that same girl who was afraid to call up and order a pizza. And the Judy who mercilessly questioned a board of health member guilty of suppressing evidence to the public might have little to do with the one who took time off from work to give a boy with AIDS a ride to the doctor because his family disowned him when the newspaper ran a story about his ordeal. Then again, the lady who got mad on the message board because someone hit her hot button surely could not be related in any way to the one who cheerfully takes the cat to the nursing home or who goes to daughter's track meets even if she's exhausted—could she? I guess Gaylin said it best. We are the sum of all we do and say. "Those character traits, those attitudes, that behavior—that strange and alien stuff sticking out all over you—that's the real you!" . Much to my chagrin and my delight, I realize that no matter what I'm doing or what I'm pondering, I'm being myself. I don't need to think about it anymore. I just have to get on with it.

Rezgirl, I appreciate greatly you telling your story and want to hear more. I've been curious about your name and the story behind where you live. Keep writing!

<< "You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.<< My choice also.

Tell those babies we all said "Welcome to the World!"

This is a major big deal anniversary! Happy Anniversary--and MANY MORE!!!

I love hearing about your finds. I am living vicariously through your yard sales....it's too cold here for that kind of fun!

I figure I've earned every gray hair and I'm going to wear them proudly like my mom did--no cancer-causing hair dye in this family. My mom had a glamor do done for my brother's wedding and as she exited the salon a customer came in breathlessly and said, "I want my hair frosted just like hers!!!" And my mother laughed out loud and said, "God did this job, honey."