Everything Old Is New Again

During our final days of packing before the big move, I suggested to my daughters that we make a trip to the local zoo.

When they were little girls, I took them frequently.

Back in those days, a day at the zoo cured everything, and had the ability to make nap time appear a welcome opportunity rather than a chore.

I even have pictures of Miss Jessica pushing her baby sister in a rented zoo stroller...

But this time, even Jessica's best friend's son was too big for a stroller.

And the lone man that was brave enough to accompany all us girls
was my youngest daughter's fiance'.

Getting Our Ducks In A Row

A week ago we started our road trip from Texas. We packed and cleaned the apartment-- hitting the road the very moment everything was finished--about 5:30 pm. It may seem crazy, but you what you have to do.

Things were packed just so in Miss Jessica's car so that even legs had to be placed a certain way to fit. What didn't fit in the car was shipped or donated to the Salvation Army.

I got reacquainted with my daughter's driving skills, as she did with mine. After the second day on the road, I became envious of the cat, who was medicated every 4 to 6 hours as needed.

But we did it and arrived here in Virginia early Sunday afternoon--tired and stiff.

This week has been spent sorting and moving things to storage to allow Miss Jessica some space of her own. We're meshing...



And Lina, who once spent her days peering into the courtyard of an apartment building, now has a somewhat different view of life.

The Cat's Meow

Every time I remove my camera from its bag, Jess' cat, Lena, tries to get in the bag.

Of course, she tries to climb in my open purse as well--and my purse is really not big enough to accommodate her either.

I'm thinking she senses the move and doesn't want to be left behind.

Well, she's coming. Lena will be the backseat driver for our two day journey and can give us directions from the safety of her carrier.

I just hope she's not too opinionated.

The More Things Change

Packing. Packing. Sorting.
I'm waiting on the Salvation Army now to come fetch up odd bits of furniture and memorabilia. We have a truckload.

I had thought we could start the big road trip across country in the wee hours, but Miss Jessica's car is in for repair and won't be ready until after lunch tomorrow. So plans are pushed back. I have always heard "If you want to make God laugh--tell him you have plans."

As JB tells me all to often: It is what it is. One must remain flexible. I am trying. And I had woke up this morning so excited about returning home--with my oldest daughter.

Instead I have been reacquainted with coin laundry. But I phoned my women's cult and they are meeting tonight. So maybe things will work out so that I can go, have dinner and visit--and get a second wind before the big road trip.

There's Strength in Numbers

The last-minute plane trip entailed changing planes three times! Lack of sleep and worry over the unknown had me a bit edgy and tight connections just exaggerated my emotions.

But I'm here. We left the hospital yesterday about noon.

I never thought I would reach the point in my life where I would have so few opportunities to interact face to face with my girls. We've been very good about keeping in touch via phone and email, but there's so many things than can only be assumed using either of those methods.

I am one of those people who operates best when I can look into the eyes of the one I'm speaking to--the eyes are indeed the windows of the soul.

I've received--and given--many long overdue and much needed hugs in the past 36 hours.
Even though miles separate families, the love and moral support is always there.

We'll be sorting and packing for the next few days. Then we're off on the road trip across the country that will bring us all back home.

I Need A Map

I long for a roadmap. I want some warning of what's ahead--a hint so I can be better prepared for the unexpected.

Most of the world nowadays--due to the instability--would probably like a roadmap as well.

The reality is there are no such maps.

Instead, we rely on gut instincts, our heart and as a last resort--logic.

I am catching a plane this morning for Texas to retrieve Miss Jessica. I understand she's being hospitalized for "observation." By the time I arrive, I'm guessing she'll be released and we can begin the process of gathering up her toys to return to Virginia.

My heart tells me this is the right thing to do. My gut instincts tell me this won't be an easy task. And more than likely, logic will surface a bit later as I hop from one plane to another today to reach her by dinnertime.

Fair Is Where You Get Cotton Candy

I'm not a man hater.
In fact, I'm very interested in them.

I have some male friends. I've spent lots of time with men in the workplace and I've been married a total of 26 years. The fact that it was 3 different men who shared that 26 years should actually enhance my credibility. I mean, I kept on trying to find the right fit.

And while it's no surprise that men and women are wired differently, my pal Hoss actually found the best way of explaining it when he posted this video on his blog.

This struggle to co-habitate and to understand one another has been going on since the beginning of time though. Look at Eve. We'll never really get the true story there. Was Eve really the one that was tempted or did Adam actually bite the apple and she just covered for him? We females always want to swoop in and fix things, don't we?

We've been grilled on playing nice and minding our manners, but too often our male counterparts never heard those messages, or just chose to ignore them altogether.

The clipping in the picture tells the story of Lilly Ledbetter, the Goodyear employee that was being shortchanged at work by what her lawyer called a "good old boys" network. When she was on the verge of retirement, a tipster revealed she was earning 79 cents on the dollar compared to her male counterparts in the same position. She sued and won, but the ruling was eventually overturned because she had waited too long. Turns out, if you're getting screwed and you don't notice it for 6 months, you're really screwed.

It's shocking, isn't it? And that's the part that always gets we women. We're shocked by the audacity. We never thought anyone would behave like that. How could they do that! Don't they have a conscience? And they seemed like such nice people...

I worked for a corporation, that when forced to cut salaries, came to me first because I was the only female executive. They rationalized that I should be able to endure a reduction in pay before my male colleagues because I was a woman and had a husband with a job.
I resigned. This wasn't the only sexist incident, but it was the icing on the cake.

I received a promotion at another corporation while in Texas and the man who stepped into my previous position started at a salary that was $5K more "because he had a family." Actually I am convinced it was because he had a penis.

And on top of that, they wanted me to help him with this position, while transitioning into my new one as well. I wasted no time in voicing my opinion. I have never seen so many grown men blush as a result of the word "penis." But they really should have been more embarrassed by their behavior.

It's what I refer to as the sheep hormone. If there is a group of men, the intelligence level will sink to the lowest IQ in the group and they will begin acting as one. Females, on the other hand, seem to thrive on individuality and fairness across the board.

Please don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying this is true of all men in all situations. My JB is honest and compassionate to a fault. But since I have found a man like this, I know that such men do exist.

The Supreme Court implied that Lily Ledbetter's lower pay was her own fault because she hadn't investigated her employer for sex discrimination sooner. Now isn't that a shame that you have to check up on everybody just to make sure they're doing what they should be doing?

Cultivating Goodness

Every day provides a new treasure.

Some are just beginning, like this peony.

While others are overwhelming...
and require much more care and attention.

Time To Lose The Pearls

The wind got up and the clouds formed. As I was cooking dinner JB had a beer and began sharing his weather forecast.

I can now do my own forecast based on the cloud formations, thanks to Dr. Biology. Before we studied meteorology last semester, I relied on the aching in my left shoulder or the soreness in my wrists to inform me of changing weather patterns.

But after living smack dab in the middle of tornado alley in West Texas for a hundred years, a tornado watch doesn't get me very excited. I've had my fair share of inclement weather.

There was a time that a tornado watch or warning meant being prepared--gathering the kids, pillows, and battery operated radio--and heading for the innermost room of the house. That would be the bathroom.

We'd make a party of it. While they gathered their books and a favorite toy or two, I'd grab a flashlight and the battery-operated radio. By the time they had climbed into the bathtub amidst a pile of pillows and blankets, I'd have pored myself a glass of wine and donned my pearls.

I always figured if I was going out, I was going out wearing my pearls. And the wine? It certainly couldn't hurt.

I've shared this tale more than a few times, much to the amusement of family and friends. And last night, when JB suggested it was an evening for wine and pearls, I suddenly looked at the entire scenario with new eyes.

The pearls are still there where I left them. They're taking a breather--a deserved rest-- in a red velvet box with a white satin lining.

I'm just glad I don't need them anymore.

Learning to Work With Mother Nature

The Georgia Collards have bloomed and gone to seed.
Pop noticed all the honeybees when he and Momo came to visit on Sunday.

They're so tall and the blooms are pretty...
but they've taken over the garden.

JB got this photo of me trying to do some damage to the crop.

Neighbors have enjoyed 4-5 pound bags for some time.
I started cooking to start freezing some yesterday--6 quarts!
I have a feeling I will be having collards for a while.

But I have plans for tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers and peas...

Nasty Little Brain Invaders

The last exam was taken yesterday. I went prepared, but still felt the anxiousness that accompanies any test of memory or mind function. I've come to realize it has more to do with my emotions rather than knowledge of any given subject.

I have to ward off thoughts of defeat. I take deep breaths and shake off self-limiting ideas so the words I'm reading make sense. Last semester, I even went so far as to request an instructor double space his tests in an effort to keep the questions from running together.

Today my Jeni is taking regional exam boards. I feel anxiousness for her--1400 miles away.

I hope she has the ability to focus entirely on the present moment. I want her brain to be so full of what is right in front of her that there is no space for the what happens next.

Its the outcome of what's before us that generally creates the anxiety anyway.

Seeds of Change

What a nice surprise I had today!
I just received these in the mail today from Eco Women.

Hopefully by the weekend--after the last final exam--
I can get out in the yard and find a nice spot for these treasures.
I have a tree and some bushes I have been waiting to plant, too.

But we've been getting lots of rain.


The rain has been leaving big, fat drops of water that glisten in the light.

Raindrops that reflect and catch the light just like
the crystal flower we gave Momo for her birthday.

The Last Ride

Jake left us today for greener pastures.

a place of eternal sunbathing on grassy hillsides
with an endless supply of big ole ham bones, I hoping.


He's been busy for so long watching over our little kingdom...


and escorting us up and down the driveway every day.


Bless his heart, he just wore himself out.

Now he can finally rest.

The Sky Is Crying

It started raining late yesterday afternoon.

JB had mowed the immediate yard, as Jake lay on the porch complaining. If his legs were working, he would have found a vantage point on the hillside to oversee the operation. He's definitely not happy with the situation.

The vet had referred to Jake as a whiny dog. He assured us that
Jake was in no real pain and his cries were more from anxiety.

But isn't anxiety emotional pain?

Jake's been a lot more anxious the last 24 hours.
And now I'm beginning to feel his anxiety. What's next?

Anxiety about the future is now an everyday occurrence.
I wish I could make it go away.

I wish he would just get up already.

Stop! Before You Bake...

Momo called this morning to let me know I had neglected to mention you must grease the pan before pouring in the batter for Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Bars.
But they still taste wonderful...

Chocolate Chip Oat Bars

I love these big chewy oat squares loaded with nuts and chocolate chips. These sweet bars are easy to prepare, and they cut very cleanly when cool.



1 cup flour
1 cup quick-cooking oats
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1/2 cup cold butter
1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk
1 cup chopped pecans (or dry-roasted peanuts!)
1 cup (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips

In a bowl, combine the flour, oats and brown sugar. Cut in the butter until crumbly.
Press half of the mixture into a greased 13x9 baking pan. Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes. Remove from oven.
Spread condensed milk evenly over the crust. Sprinkle with nuts and chocolate chips. Top with remaining oat mixture and pat lightly.
Bake for 25-30 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool in pan on wire rack.
Yield: about 2 1/2 dozen.

Note: I'm doing a web page that highlights quick recipes for my Web Design final project. I've been lucky so far, as I have been able to copy and paste many from my blog!

Lifeguards in The Gene Pool

I can still recall the excitement of Jeni's kindergarten graduation. She was adamant about wanting her picture taken with "Teacher Viola."

Jeni once confided that when Teacher Viola got down real close to talk to you, you could see her eyes were all cracked. Initially confused, I later ascertained that her cracked eyes were actually bloodshot. I have a great deal of respect for those bloodshot eyes, having spent time as a mother working full-time outside the home.

There were goody bags and a celebration very befitting this important milestone. And at the end, I loaded up my sticky, tired child and drove 10 minutes home.

When I hopped a plane for Jeni's high school graduation, she wanted to be photographed with her boyfriend (now her live-in fiance').

The graduating class was so large that it was conducted at the county coliseum. I was seated in the nosebleed section and strained to pick out my baby girl. As luck would have it, I was sitting directly in front of a man who kept pointing out my daughter and referring to her as "my Jeni."

After I introduced myself as Jeni's mother, I learned this was the boyfriend's father. He was just as proud of Jen and he was of his own son.

After graduation, we all went out for a nice lunch in celebration....

Daniel and his big sis, and Jeni and her big sis.

Yesterday, my Jeni graduated from college. Her ceremony was at 10 a.m.

Economics and obligations from school prevented me from attending. She and I have shared tears together many times because of this over the past few weeks.

I spoke to her Friday afternoon as she was in the final meltdown stage. Through tears she told me she had just finished giving a 20-minute presentation to 300 people. She was due to begin preparing the floral arrangements in a hour for the next day's ceremony. The apartment, she said, was a wreck and Daniel's mother was arriving to spend the night. The stress-level had reached an all time high.

I took this opportunity to speak calmly about how much she had accomplished. I reminded her that while JB and I may have funded her education--she did the real work--and that's what was important. She had accomplished this for herself through determination and tenacity.
I encouraged her to let go of expectations from family and friends and concentrate on herself. Prioritze.

She understands why I couldn't be there. Her sister (who lives in the same city with her father) was afraid to make the 5 hour trip because of complications with her car. It is upsetting that the sperm donor couldn't be human long enough to offer a ride to his eldest daughter. It would have meant so much to both of the girls.

I gave her the "you're from strong stock" speech that Momo always gives me. I know it well, and it always does the trick. I reminded her of times once perceived as challenging, that are hysterically funny in retrospect. By the end of the conversation, she was giggling.

I didn't phone her yesterday, as I know she was up to her eyeballs in houseguests.
But if I know my Jeni, I suspect she turned a few heads.

Tick Talk

Jake is still holding on. He's able to lift his head and wag his tail, but his legs still don't work. It's been a week today.

Bless his heart, he's fed up. I understand this. It's no picnic doing physical therapy with a 65 pound dog and changing out bedding twice a day. I can just imagine how he feels about it all.

During the course of all this, I have learned more than I ever wanted to know about ticks. I have read things that make me want to live in a bubble--and yes--miss the city somewhat.

I also got a bite from a Lone Star tick last Friday that has created a reaction. I was showering and felt something at the back of my calf. The nasty little bastard had latched on and created an an inflamed area as well. It took tweezers to remove the thing. It was attached as if it had been harpooned into my leg!

I'm guessing my jaunt down to the garden the afternoon before was when he got me. After researching all the fine details, I think I will live. The reaction, while still yucky-looking, is subsiding.

I've spoke with the "specialized veterinary representatives" at Frontline who have educated me further. I was told that typically it took a tick longer than 48 hours to transmit disease. It has something to do with their feeding patterns.

I'm really grossed out by all this tick-talk.

A Woman's Work Is Never Done

Last night I worked until midnight uploading 3 web pages to the sever for my Web Design Class. I have this problem--I think web pages for assignments should look like magazine pages. It--more often than not--doesn't work out, but I try.

I finally decide I have had enough and head to the living room, exhausted.
Since I am one that has hot flashes to the point of wanting to shave my head, I gulp down two large glasses of water, trying to unwind.
I fall into bed at 12:30 a.m.

I awake at about 2:00 a.m. because JB is handing me the phone. He's doing his midnight snacking routine and the phone rings with the eldest daughter, Miss Jessica.

Bear in mind, my brain is FRIED. .. and I have been in the bed an hour and a half.

Turns out, her power has been off for an hour and there are tornado warnings in her area. She apologizes for waking me, but is getting claustrophobic hiding out in her bathroom and would like a radar update.

I apologize for being so incoherent and stumble to the computer. I pull up the radar and the storm tracking and tell her she is in the clear.

Bless her heart, she's had the light of her cell phone for an hour--in the bathroom with her cat.

I really can't wait until she is here with me... out of tornado alley.

Today has not been a good day. I am traveling on little sleep and too much pressure. My eyes have leaked at various points throughout the day, uncontrollably.

I call Momo to tell her of this rubberband that has enveloped my head.

She laughs, knowingly--almost hysterically.

I guess that's a sign that this is normal. And this too, shall pass.

The BumbleBee Dance

There's the unmistakeable buzzing in the air of Bumblebees.

I stepped outside to admire the Bridal Wreath, and wound up sitting
on the east stoop for a while.
Mother Nature has a calming, nurturing way about her.

The bees flew around chasing each other--darting and dodging-
and making all kinds of racket with their zooming.
In the quiet of the yard, the bees are as noisy as a freeway during rush hour.

I'd imagine they're pretty excited to see that everything has started to bloom.

I went out and picked about 12 pounds of Georgia Collards this morning.
I have lots and lots of greens.

And Mr. Jake is still with us...
What we had thought was old age has turned out to be tick paralysis. The vet said that Jake had just been bitten by the wrong tick. He's been poked, prodded, examined and tested... and medicated.
We're giving him water with a bulb syringe and babying him. We're hoping he snaps out of it within the next 24-48 hours.