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Showing posts from 2012

Mother, oh Mother

Another sleepless night and pain. Good news is that I have an endoscopy on the 12th and an appointment with the surgeon on the 17th. Here's hoping that we'll soon be saying bye bye to my gallbladder very soon! WBH and I were going over our new spending tool (might post about that later) and how much we haven't been spending on food the last few weeks. Then WBH reminded me, "but you haven't been eating, so that explains it." Thanks honey. lol So, after laying in bed for a few hours, listening to my snoring husband and dog, I am up, playing on pinterest. I was reading through the One Good Thing by Jillee blog archive, clicking on one link after another when I came across a post from another site about the power of vinegar and in the midst of that post was this poem... Song for a Fifth Child By Ruth Hulburt Hamilton Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth empty the dustpan, poison the moth, hang out the washing and butter the bread, sew on a butto

Socks.

I have been up all night with more pain than I can really do justice talking about so instead I am going to talk about something else. Socks. WBH and I have been together a long time, almost 13 years. Our second wedding anniversary is coming up in October, but even before that we knew each other very well and had a fairly good idea what would make us mad crazy about each other and crazy mad at each other. And for me, the later was socks. When he gets home, the first thing WBH does is change into comfier clothing. Then he either hits the bed or the loveseat for a few minutes of web browsing and relaxing from his day. During this time he usually ends up pulling off his socks and leaving them wherever they land. Let me be clear here: He changes clothes, putting the dirty things in the hamper and hanging up his pants if they are good to go for another day, but his socks just lay in piles by his side of the bed and by the loveseat in the living room. I cannot express how crazy this

Fly

A long, long, long time ago (okay, like 2 months), I started following The One-Minute Writer . I used to really enjoy writing; it's an easy creative outlet, at least for me. But in the past few years, I have really just stopped writing completely. Over the last few months, I have been trying to write more often and have signed up for all sorts of tools to help me along that path. Today's One-Minute Writer prompt is Fly: "If you could sprout wings and fly just once, what would you like to see from the air?" If I sprouted wings and flew away, I would fly straight for Paradise Lake, Michigan. When I was growing up, my grandparents would rent cabins and invite family members to join them. I loved playing in the sand, swimming off the dock, and getting up early in the morning to go fishing with my dad. I miss him.
Two posts in a month? Whhhaaat? Well I really consider my last post more of july's, since it happened so early in the morning, but still it is a rarity. I have had the pop song, "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen stuck in my head for nearly a full month. I don't understand why! I had never even heard the song before mission trip (as I listen to little more than Christian music and carefully selected and groomed Pandora stations) and now I cannot stop singing it. It's even making WBH crazy, poor man. In other news, I am working on journaling every day. Its helping me remember details and put some things in perspective, though it is still hard to make myself sit down and do it each day. Hopefully that will get easier as I continue. WBH is spending the night at the church tonight. There is a program in town to help homeless families. They spend the evening and nights at churches (a week at a time) and then during the day go to the center to have help with jo

Stay awake.

I may never sleep again. I have been having horrifying nightmares for weeks, but today's really was beyond anything my subconscious has come up with so far. I don't even want to go into it. I came home from work around 3 because my horsefly bite from friday (huge blister that popped in the night last night) was making my ankle throb and I just couldn't focus anymore. I came home and went right to bed and slept so hard.  And had such an awful nightmare it actually made me ill. I was motion sick the rest of the day. I couldn't even make it home from dropping my cousin off. I had to have WBH (World's Best Husband) and his dad come rescue me from MommaJ's house. We didn't even make it home from there before we had to stop again.  My stomach has not been right since last week. I sat down at the counselor's meeting after breakfast last monday and turned to WBH saying, "I'm going to throw up." I barely made it to the rest room. From there I

Who I Am.

Between babies being born and surprises being launched (unsuccessfully, mind) tonight, I have been firmly reminded of how selfish I am. I don't like admitting it and when I do I generally get argued with, but really I am selfish. As defined by google: concerned chiefly with one's own personal profit or pleasure. That is me to a tee. Not necessarily the profit bit, at least not in a money sense, but the rest of it is. I like my me-time. I want to know what is going on and make my own decisions. I seriously dislike things being planned for me, enough that I have been known to be a grouch through activities I don't have a choice in. The idea of being surprised, even for something small, gives me the heebie-jeebies. Seriously, I feel a panic attack in the making just thinking about it. If the Hubby text me saying, "come home and pack a bag, we're going to -insert city name here- for the weekend," I would probably respond with, "what??? I don't think

What is the point of pain?

There are so many people around me in pain today. Not just the physical pain that I am working through, but those dealing with loss and heart ache, and yet finding such strength in it. A woman who is one the sweetest, funniest, most caring women I have ever met, praying for just a few more days with the love of her life before his cancer takes him finding reasons to smile each day.. A teenager coming to terms with her father's alcoholism and the hurt it has caused her family, and someone how finding the strength to stand up to him and speak her mind. A woman my age dealing with chronic illness that has stripped so much of what she thought life would be from her, yet still pursuing her dreams and creating new ones. I don't know how she finds the strength to continue on each day. How any of them or the many others who are going through things do, but they do. It makes me hurt for them. It makes me hurt for all of us. It makes me believe that there must be a reason for this pain

I Am Aware Now

Just the other day I was working with my dearest friend Kouw on a fic. I was trying to channel a character I had never written before and decided I needed some happier, more upbeat music (but practical, not bubblegum pop) to do it. So I turned on my Alanis Morisette pandora station. It was every awful (but beautiful) song she has ever written with a few angtsy No Doubt songs thrown in for good measure. Not helpful to say the least. I turn it on just now looking for some angstiness to go with my current mood and I am treated to You Learn followed by Goo Goo Dolls. Not exactly what I needed. I hurt. I have been hurting for so long it feels like always.  I had therapy today and have been ordered not to stretch this entire week. Apparently I am too stretchy. I feel like one of those Gumby figurines I had when I was little. She really worked my butt cheek and IT band. It was not fun, but I felt good enough to go for a walk around the block with Xander just now. I keep hoping

Fanfic: More addictive than crack and cheaper too!

My WIP: Fanfic100 Challenge 001. Beginnings. 002. Middles. 003. Ends. 004. Insides. 005. Outsides. 006. Hours. 007. Days. 008. Weeks. 009. Months. 010. Years. 011. Red. 012. Orange . 013. Yellow . 014. Green . 015. Blue . 016. Purple . 017. Brown . 018. Black . 019. White . 020. Colourless . 021. Friends. 022. Enemies. 023. Lovers. 024. Family. 025. Strangers. 026. Teammates . 027. Parents. 028. Children. 029. Birth. 030. Death. 031. Sunrise. 032. Sunset. 033. Too Much . 034. Not Enough . 035. Sixth Sense. 036. Smell. 037. Sound. 038. Touch. 039. Taste. 040. Sight. 041. Shapes. 042. Triangle. 043. Square . 044. Circle. 045. Moon. 046. Star. 047. Heart. 048. Diamond. 049. Club. 050. Spade. 051. Water. 052. Fire. 053. Earth. 054. Air. 055. Spirit. 056. Breakfast . 057. Lunch . 058. Dinner . 059. Food. 060. Drink. 061. Winter. 062. Spring. 063. Summer. 064. Fall. 065. Passing. 066. Rain. 067. Snow. 068. Lightening. 069. Thunder. 070. Storm . 071. Broken. 072. Fixed. 073.

Ten Words. Ten Tiny Words

I was trying to find a post on my old Xanga blog for a fanfic I want to work on and stumbled across this. I really liked it and thought I would share it here... Ten words, Ten Tiny Words: A Writing Exercise Ten words.  Ten tiny words.  She considers the page before her and reflects on the words written there.  She need only add two more to make it complete and she will...  She must.  The time to change what must be has passed, if it ever existed at all.  So she will do it.  She will sign her name and resign.  For a brief moment, she wonders if it will bring him pain, if he will have some sense of loss, but she angerly puts those thoughts away.  Now is a time for her and she will give herself this gift of freedom.  Twelve simple words on a crisp sheet of white will bring her peace. ... or so she hopes. Ten words.  Ten tiny words, but originally there were twelve.  Somewhere in the last twenty years she has lost two words and so much more.  The ring of gold taunts her as it sits on

One Thing Remains

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It's nearly half past two in the morning. I am sitting in a beautiful atrium in the middle of the Galt House. Snow is coming down all around me, and it is absolutely peaceful... or it would be if the room weren't also full of other crazy youth leaders who are up late and enjoying each other's company. Still, it is beautiful to watch the large flakes swirl around in the lights of a sleepy cityscape. This has been a difficult weekend for me. Adam has been sick most of the weekend which always stresses me out. Because he hasn't felt the best, he also hasn't been the nicest husband in the world this weekend. We have been pushing each other buttons for the last few days, in true WBH-LJ style. I've also been dealing with confronting some tough truths about myself and how I have been living the last year or so. Fun times. The good news is that my physical therapy seems to be helping. The stretches I am doing each day seem to be having the desired effect, a

Santorwrong

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by Jeff Darcy, Cleveland Plain Dealer ,  So I doubt it will come as a surprise to anyone who knows me that Santorum scares the crap out of me. He looks like a nice guy and then he opens his mouth and says thi ngs like  "CO2 is a pollutant? Tell that to the plants." and I just want to scream.  I like to think that the only reason someone goes into politics is because they really think they can make a change for the better in some way or another. I cannot imagine someone willingly putting their lives and the lives of their family up to the media  scrutiny of any political race, much less the presidential one, without them really, truly believing good could come of it. So I have to believe that as much as I disagree with nearly everything that comes out of his mouth, Rick Santorum honestly wants what he thinks is best for America. He does not deserve (and we, as Americans do not deserve) this. By Monte Wolverton  It is 2012 people. Do we really need to be afraid of

If It's Thursday, It Must Be Beverly

Do you believe it is 8:30 in the morning and I am already awake? I don't! I have actually been awake for a few hours. It's been a long weekend. After the Overnight on Friday, I went to bed at 8am Saturday, slept until 8pm that night, then stayed up all the way through 6:30 last night. I tried to make it longer, but I just couldn't. I slept until a little before 5 this morning and have been up since.  I read through a particularly lovely, romantic and in someways completely heartbreaking fanfiction called Seasons by Onesimus this morning. It's about the formation of a relationship between Elsie Hughes and Charles Carson, the housekeeper and butler of Downton Abbey. It's rated Mature for a reason, but also had some moments that brought tears to my eyes. I am actually still feeling melancholy even as I write this, hours later. Do you ever do that? Get so into a book or movie that you are feeling what the characters must have felt? I find that I carry it with me i

Don't Underestimate the Things that I Will Do.

I keep trying to write a new post here, but then I get all caught up in what I want it to look like and be like and I lose my nerve. So I am going to just keep writing and hit publish at the end and send it out into the world, for what it is worth. I have to restart somewhere, right? Like most of America at this point I think, I love Adele. I loved her even before Chasing Pavements became so huge here. I just love that you can feel her power as she  sings. It comes from such a true place inside of her. So much beauty. I was talking to one of my favorite Yutes last night and he was asking me about fanfiction. he didn't understand why people write it. It took me a couple beats to come up with an answer. I can't answer for all of the fanfic world, but I think I write it because I feel inclined to write and it is easier to write within a universe that has already been created for an audience that already knows the characters/situations well. He then asked why I don't writ