Friday, May 19, 2006

What Do I Owe For That Kidney?

On our mother's birthday, last December first, my brother and I began an Odyssey

that involved us being poked, prodded, probed, tested, retested and virtually drained of blood and ultimately culminated with a phone call I received this morning. At 8:15 am, I answered my cell phone and was informed by the individual assigned to coordinate our journey through this process that

the results were in and contingent upon my successful completion of a 24 hour period of ambulatory blood pressure monitoring, my brother and I have been approved for his kidney transplant, and the procedure has been scheduled to take place on TUESDAY, JULY 25, 2006!!!!!!!!

In my time on this planet, I have had the opportunity to be a part of some pretty phenomenal events: the births of my son, two nephews, and a cousin....the coming together of my entire extended family to plan and execute a blow-out birthday bash for my beloved Grandmother last year....foreign exchange programs which allowed for me to spend extended periods living in Italy and Kenya.....and more backyard Bar-B-Ques, weekends at Grandma's with all my cousins, and more sista-girl sessions with the gurls of my heart than any single individual can possibly expect to have. By comparison, not one of these experiences even come close to the sheer, unadulterated joy and raw emotion I felt as I was given the honor of calling my brother [who I had called fully six months earlier with the news that we were sufficiently similar to be evaluated for potential transplantation of my kidney into his body] with the news that we were now actually qualified and scheduled for the surgery. My brother undergoes dialysis every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 1pm until 6pm. As the old Dodge Intrepid commercials used to state, "THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING!"

When I got my brother on the phone and gave him the news, I was surprised to find that he was not giddy with excitement like I was when I received the news. Instead, he seemed abnormally quiet, reserved, even reticent. I asked him what was wrong and he admitted that he was scared. Now, contrary to popular belief, I am NOT fearless. In fact, I'm about as scary as they come.....but I'm good at making scared look good! So I asked my brother what he was scared of after trying to convince him that once the kidney transplant was complete his life would once again be his own and that kidney transplants have a great long-term expectancy of 10, 15, even 20 years. He told me he was scared to let me do this and then shocked me by asking "How can I ever pay you back for your kidney?" I was completely taken aback. However, you guys know you can always count on me to have an answer and this is what I said to my brother and it is exactly what I would have wanted to say if I could have planned for this moment:

I am NOT scared at all. Not even a little bit. We are both going to come through this fine and we'll both be able to live a full life. As far as paying me back, this is my thought. If you call and ask me to loan you $150 to pay a bill, then you should feel like you feel right now, you should be stressed about how you're going to pay me back because you can be damned skippy that I will be looking for my money! But a kidney? Dude, you can't pay someone for a kidney because you can't owe someone for a kidney....it's not a loan! Think of it this way.....remember two years ago when I gave you that blackjack table for Christmas? I was so excited waiting for you to open it because from the moment I saw it, I knew you would love it, it was the perfect gift for you. This kidney thing is like that....it is like finding the perfect gift for you, and when you are given a great gift, you accept it, say thank you, and enjoy it. Now say thank you and let's get this party started!
My brother stopped by my house this evening and I could see how happy he was in his eyes. His step was lighter, and I think, hope, believe that he can finally begin to get excited about his.....scratch that......OUR good fortune!

I love my life, I love my brother, I love my family
and
Blog family, I Love Y'all too....stay tuned... with 4-6 weeks off from work this summer following the transplant, I'll have plenty of time for posting and reading what you post; so start gearing up to keep me entertained!

Friday, May 12, 2006

WORD TO YOU FATHERS....A Message to the Absent Dads

Lately, something's been on my mind. For some time now, I've wanted to say things to my son's father that I have never had the opportunity to say. Unlike many former couples who have a child they created together, my son's father and I have no relationship.....I mean, no hostility, and no friendship, no relationship at all. This is because my son and his father have no relationship....a situation that is the result of his father's choice not to be involved, and which I have tried repeatedly to change to no avail. Though an unfortunate reality for my son which he deals with utilizing a maturity far beyond his years, for most of his life this has not been a problem for me. As a matter of fact, there have been many times [as I listened to the changes that some of my friends who also happen to be single mothers go through with the fathers of their children who remain involved in their children's lives], when I actually felt that I was lucky. Lucky that I did not have to consult with him about decisions regarding my son. Lucky that I did not have to deal with the "If Mom says no, ask Dad" syndrome, as for my son, there was no Dad available, only Mom. Lucky that I could bring up my son as I saw fit and not be worried that his other parent would be looking over my shoulder, critiquing my every move. There was definitely a time when I found that there was indeed a silver lining even in this cloud.

Then, in 2003 and 2004, two things happened to change my mind. First, back in October 2003, my family decided to take a cruise to Ocho Rios, Grand Cayman, and Cozumel. Being a bordering country, Mexico has strict laws about bringing minor children into the country in the absence of a parent; these laws were designed to control parental kidnappers who might flee into Mexico. Thus, it was necessary that I literally get my son's absent father's permission to take him on vacation. Mexico required a notarized statement from his father before we would be allowed to be in the country for more than 24 hours. IMAGINE, having to have the permission of a man who had not seen my son in 12 years and thus would not be able to identify my son if ever there was a need. I was outdone.

In 2004, my son graduated from the eighth grade and decided he wanted to invite his father [who he had not seen since before he turned two years old] to the ceremony. I told my son I'd think about it and let him know, intending to ask his father without my son knowing in the event his father declined attending. When asked, he did indeed agree to come to the ceremony, but not trusting him to follow-through and not wanting my son to be disappointed I decided to let his attendance be a surprise if indeed he did show up. He did NOT come to the ceremony.

Typically, women in my situation have a lot to say to the absent father and not much if any of it good. Though there have been two occasions over the years since my son's birth that I have been so frustrated and angry that I did contact his father in anger, I find at this point in time, I feel a very different emotion. This is what I want to say:

In your decision to distance yourself from your son's life, you have cheated him. You have cheated him out of knowing what an intelligent, charismatic, and personable man you are. He, unlike me, never got the opportunity to know your love of music which he seems to have inherited. He has never seen you swipe your hand across your face in the same manner that he does when stunned; obviously a consequence of genetics as he has not spent adequate time in your presence to pick up your mannerisms. A good athlete, he has no idea that his father loves sports and could probably give him immense insight on how he might improve his athletic abilities. You have not allowed him the same luxury you enjoyed [as you shared with me back when we were dating] of having had the security of your relationship with your own father to help you navigate the course from boyhood to manhood. YOU HAVE CHEATED HIM.

In making this same decision, you have cheated me as well. You have cheated me out of a lot. By not being involved in his life, you have left me to do it all alone. You have forced me by your very absence to play a much larger role in my son's life than I ever should have been required to play. You have altered my perspective and approach to every situation by essentially designating me as my son's only viable parent, and as such much more critically important in his life. While all of these things have significance for me, the one truly painful thing you cheated me out of, was the opportunity to share, enjoy, and beam with pride over my son and his achievements with the person who helped me create him. You and I have been able to be beyond civil to each other, nice even, so surely we could have managed joint parenting if you were of a mind, even though we never intended to marry each other. YOU HAVE CHEATED ME.

Most of all, you have cheated yourself. You have missed out on being a witness to the life of one of the most phenomenal people ever born. The last time I was really angry with you was on Labor Day 2004 as I sat and watched our son practice with his high school football team. At 6 feet tall and 245 pounds, he was by far the biggest and strongest freshman on the team. In that moment, I replayed his life from the moment he was born to now and felt overcome with pride. Then, I was overcome with anger because I had never truly had anyone to share this exhileration with who could truly appreciate the moment in the way that only a parent can. I called you that day as I sat there alone watching our son, and gave you a not-so-nice piece of my mind. Now I know that the anger that surfaced that day was the precursor to the sadness and disappointment that I now feel as my son moves closer and closer to manhood, still without a relationship with the man who fathered him. Your choice means that you may never get the chance to know the best thing you ever helped create. It means that you may never understand the privelege being part of this young man's life has been. It means that you may never know the power of the most all-encompassing love I have ever experienced. It means you may have missed out on the single greatest opportunity of your life. YOU HAVE CHEATED YOURSELF.

These are the things I would say to my son's father if I could. They are not said in anger. They are not said with hostility. They are said in the hope that one day he or some other absent Dad will read them and re-think their decision to remain absent; and believe me regardless of all the rationalizing, it is a decision that they made. When my son and I speak of his father,[which happens relatively frequently when one of his favorite songs from back in the day is on or my son does something that reminds me of his Dad], it is always with a positive slant. My son is a part of me AND a part of his father, and as such, I would never want him to believe that his father is "bad, undesirable, or any other negative thing", as I don't want my son to believe that any part of himself is negative. Regarding his father's absence from his life, I simply tell my son that just as he is sometimes irresponsible about his obligations like we all can be, his father for some reason that has nothing to do with his son, is being irresponsible. I assure my son that since his father doesn't really even know him, it can't be a reflection of his "not liking him".

The long and short of it is that absenteeism goes deeper than we typically believe. Its affects are different at different times in the lives of each of the involved parties. Though we most often focus on the anger created by these situations, the fact is that even more than anger, there is significant pain that accompanies the anger. My son feels this pain, I as his single mother feel this pain, and I'm sure that on some level at some time in his life if he does not already, his father will one day feel this pain as well. I'm an optimist as you all know, and as such I believe that it is never too late to change. Though I have given up trying to influence my son's father to make this change, I still believe and hope that one day he will reach out to my son as even now, I still think of him as one of the most interesting people I've ever met. Additionally, the optimist that is me hopes that some other absentee Dad might read this and realize that all the negative portrayals of strong, neck-rolling sistas talking about "how they've got this....and don't need any damned baby-daddy to handle their business" is just the side being shown to the world in their attempt to be strong. In reality, we all dreamed of having complete families with Mommies and Daddies, and even when it can't be as we dreamed, someone to share the burden as well as the joy of parenting with is still something most of us desire. So if you are, or have been an absentee Dad, suck it up, paddle through the crap of your failed relationship and establish a partnership with you child(ren's) mother, be a man, and be the best damn Dad you possibly can be; our children deserve at least that much.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

World Class Collecting

Some people collect antiques, some cars, and others coins. Me? I collect people. I am a certified connoisseur of people. In my ongoing quest to increase the value of my collection, I am very selective. You see, for me it is the quality of my collection that matters, not the quantity. As a matter of fact, as the years have passed and I've grown older [some might even say wiser], I have found that finding someone to add to my collection doesn't happen all that often. Other, less motivated people collectors add to their collections almost daily. I, on the other hand, take the time and exert the energy necessary to determine whether or not an acquaintance is of a high enough caliber to even warrant consideration for addition to the links of people who make up the chain that is attached to the anchor that keeps me securely stabilized when the waters get rough.

While many people are dismayed by the fact that "they don't have many friends", I am exhilerated whenever I stop to think that I do indeed have FRIENDS....true friends.....ones I can depend on. How did I get so lucky? I took up the art of COLLECTING PEOPLE way back in elementary school. I was raised basically as a nomad. My mother has a bit of the wanderlust in her soul, which resulted in my having attended eight different elementary schools between kindergarten and eigth grade. With this type of movement in my childhood, it is easy to see how it would have been difficult to maintain friendships. SOMEHOW, I managed as my oldest friend Synetta I met the summer before I started sixth grade. She lived next door to me in the house I consider the place where I truly grew up [we lived there for three years....a veritable marathon for my family]. Synetta started me on my lifelong dedication to people collecting. In her, I found a same sex soul mate. She was someone I could tell everything and in whose loyalty to me I never had to question. Even when she and I were forced to have a physical fight because my [then bratty] little sister Jackie picked a fight with her (and as per the rules of my house, if my sister was in a fight I was in a fight), she still continued to keep my all important pubescent secrets under lock and key.

Synetta and I remained best friends through high school, double dating to the Prom both with our boyfriends named Michael. When we graduated, I went to college and she joined the army. It was during this period that we lost contact with each other. Now here is where the true value of people collecting comes in. If you have truly collected a people masterpiece, someone who is worth having around, then though you may lose contact from time to time, you will never lose the masterpiece. Recently, Synetta and I found each other again. She is on the east coast and I am still out here in the middle of the country. Oh the joy I tell you of receiving that initial email. The sheer unadulterated pleasure of hearing a voice on your voicemail that you haven't heard in many, many years scream your pre-teen pet names for each other into your ear.....Heeeeeeyyyyyyyyy MONKEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!!!!!!!! is a feeling for which I have no words. Talking to her again, is just like being twelve again. It is as if no time has passed and the joy of once again having access to the person whose impact in my young life was so profound that she set me on the path to collecting quality people is priceless.

Over the years, others have added themselves to my collection by distinguished service. Estella [aka Stella] the third point [along with me and Synetta] to complete my high school "triangle of friends" (not a circle....quality not quantity). I lost contact with her as well, and am right this moment looking forward to connecting the points on this triangle this afternoon when I try to get both Synetta and Stella on a call at the same time. I AM ABOUT TO BURST, because I just reconnected with Stell about a month or so ago but she and Synetta have been out of contact for 10 plus years!

College brought me Craig, to whom I will always be indebted as he paid for my laundry and weekend meals for almost a year in order to help me stay in school when my mother lost her job during my freshman year. This from a guy who like me was a college student from a low-income urban area; and a guy who I never even dated as we were like sister and brother from the start when I hooked him up with my homegirl Julie. He didn't end up with Julie, he chose Laura instead bringing me another masterpiece to add to my collection. It's funny how an outsider would find it difficult to determine who came first, Laura or Craig. Angie, who you all have read about before arrived on the scene and in addition to all the gifts you all have already been told about that she brings, she also was instrumental in making Ms. Just Write Now realize that a brilliant mind, quick wit, and good personality weren't my only assets. In a "make-over" which included a hair cut, contacts, new clothes that revealed a body I never knew existed, and some subtle, very natural make-up, Angie gave me a confidence in the physical me that I had never had before. WATCH OUT WORLD!

College without question had the greatest impact on my collection, and I would be remiss if I didn't mention my baby sister Monica. From the day we first met to this one, Monica has never failed to bring the best medicine of all whether or not I'm ailing: LAUGHTER. Whenever I talk to this girl [and thankfully we remain in close contact though she lives in Iowa], I find myself literally rolling on the floor laughing my ass off. The funny thing is, she does too! I also got Kimberly [wherever she is] and Lisa during college. Kimberly was my roomie when I moved off campus. Kimberly was the sister who showed me how to socialize and be comfortable even when I wasn't. And Lisa, bless her, (along with her family, my family) brought me closer to God than I'd ever been before. Lisa was my on-campus roomie for three years. Any collection worth the effort of collecting should bring value or beauty to your life. As you can plainly see, my collection brings me an abundance of both. Gone, but never forgotten from this time is one of the true loves of my life....Mr. Kevin Adams. From St. Louis like me and THE COOLEST WHITE BOY evah to walk the planet earth, Kevin taught us all the true meaning of fun and how to go out, grab life by the hand fulls, and live it to the fullest. I'll love him forever.

I could go on, because though quantity is NOT and never was the goal, the list of irreplaceable works of art in my collection is long. It includes people I met along the way, some way back when and some recently. Age ain't nothin' but a number as one of the MOST valuable pieces in my collection is herself just becoming acquainted with womanhood at the ripe old age of 22. Ms. Carmz, is one of my absolutely most precious collectibles, and keeps me fresh and open to what's happening NOW! It includes family members (like Moms to the right) with whom I share DNA and some family members with whom I do not. It includes people from all backgrounds, socio-economic levels, races and ethnicities. The one distinguishing characteristic of them all is not that they are perfect people [hell for that matter, neither am I]; just that they are/were all perfect for me in that they each brought something critically important to my life that I could depend on to be there when and if I needed it.

The key to successful people collecting is this:

Understand that we all have flaws and at some time or another will mess up royally....that's just human nature. What we must do to enable us to build the value of our collections is to see what actually is, and base our evaluations on what is. Human nature dictates that conflict will arise whenever two are gathered. However, instead of allowing these conflicts to change everything, [subsequently diminishing the value of your collection], it is necessary to evaluate the value the individual in question brings to your life and how easily you would be able to replace the value you would lose. Nothing is all good, and we all have characteristics that others would simply love to yank out of us. However, in most cases, if they were ever worth adding to your collection at all, they are most likely worth keeping.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

WARNING: Stolen Material May Cause Guilty Conscious If Viewed

What follows is a stolen post from the blog of David Parrish. I have committed what amounts to a felony I believe because the information contained in this post is so valuable and important that I wanted to make sure others who might not otherwise stumble across David's blog would be exposed to it. I especially wanted those of you with whom I had ongoing debates surrounding this year's Oscar's and issues there we won't openly revisit here today to read this all-important post. I challenge each of you, to be honest with yourselves in your self-evaluation. Did you, have we all really done everything we personally can do or anything at all for that matter to postively impact the images of ourselves that are considered for next year's Oscar nominations? Secondly, [contrary to my usual attempt to be a positive influence on others], I encourage and challenge each of you to commit the same felony I did and steal David's post to be posted on your own sites in order to broaden the potential scope of its impact. As it relates to the apology David suggests in this post, I too fell short. What about you?

ok everyone, Group Apology time!!!
I _____________ (state your name) do sincerely apologize for NOT going to see Akeelah and the Bee when I KNEW that it was important to do so in order to send a message to Hollywood that we, the Negroes who complain so much about the quality of Black Movies released into theaters, would be sure to go out and make Akeelah number one in the last weekend of the Spring movie season. Knowing full well that Summer Blockbuster Season starts this coming Friday with M:I 3, I have squandered another chance to send Hollywood a message with my money. I am well aware that as punishment, I will receive healthy doses of cross dressing comedians, aspiring rapper/actors, and well meaning movies which are lacking in the polish and creativity that a major motion picture release deserves.

--Parrish, The Thoughts

I Owe Y'all Better Than This!

I KNOW I'VE BEEN LOUSY! I owe y'all better than this; afterall, y'all made one of my biggest dreams come true by stopping in and checking out a sistas words and I repay y'all by not holding up my end of the bargain and writing something y'all could read. There are reasons....but there are no excuses. I PROMISE I WILL DO BETTER. Please just hang in there with me until I get my schedule in hand and I will go back to daily posting as soon as I can manage it.

A quick update on the goings-on in my world and then I will get to writing some posts I can be proud of and you can enjoy:


  • School: Going great! Your gurl has an "A" average through mid-term and with 2 case studies completed and returned [A's on both] and a mid-term exam completed and returned [A there too], and only one more case study and a take home final, I think it is a safe bet that a sista can pull this one out. Oh how I love EDUCATION!
  • Personal Training: STILL GOING! Three times a week, still going strong. Only missed two sessions so far due to a business trip to Minneapolis last week where I worked out in my room on my own anyway. Dying to post a pic, but y'all know I'ma drama queen and so I'm waiting until I hit some of my REAL goals so that the change will be as dramatic as possible. However, just last week, I was cleaning the house....while vacuuming with my music blasting, I caught an unexpected glimpse of my right tricep in a mirror and I'll just say this, "Baby might not have back, but she damn sho gots some nice cuts in her arms!" Hey brothas....does that turn y'all on? ;)
  • Ryan: He got a new car....any questions? No, really, his driving is coming along and he should be able to actually take his driver's exam and get a license in the next couple of weeks. Our schedules are so unbelievably hectic that the poor boy and I can only get together to let him drive for an hour or two 3 or 4 times a week. I let him drive on the highway for the first time last week and it was okay....but y'all pray for a sista AND her babyboy! HINT TO THOSE WITH TEENS WHO ARE CONSIDERING PURCHASING NEW CARS: Insurance is cheaper if you purchase the care BEFORE your teen has a license then add him to it once he gets a license. In our case, it was a difference of $600 every six months....that's why Ryan has a car and no license.
  • The Basement: Carpet is in and everythings is so fresh and so clean clean! I still have to arrange furniture and put the knicks and knacks back. As soon as I do, I'll shoot new picks and post them for your approval.
  • Backyard: Coming right along and on schedule for the Annual Memorial Day Weekend Blowout. Any of y'all passing through The Lou on Memorial Day weekend Sunday, be sure and let me know so I can give ya directions to the ranch! There will be food and drink and fun for all so don't worry about who you're wit, bring the fam....the more the merrier.
  • Work: Right....it's work and in the words of that Original Oldgirl the infamous Ladylee, "They are still dropping a paycheck into my direct deposit account every other week", so by my standards, it's going fine!

So there ya go....y'all are all caught up now! And once again, I promise I'ma get back to posting like I've still got the good sense God gave me as my Grandma would say.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

In The Blink Of An Eye....


It starts right about here, with smiles and coos and adoring looks that make you believe it will always be just like this. You will always be the axis on which their world revolves. Though very demanding in acquiring whatever it is they feel they need at the time, a baby, [at least if your baby is anything like mine], has a knack for making everything you do and sacrifice on his behalf end up being worth it. In all the world, there is no more satisfying feeling than the feel of chubby, little arms wrapped around your neck as warm breath that carries the faint odor of milk tickles your neck, and the words that will hold you hostage for a lifetime are whispered, "I Love You Mommy."

For a time, this was my life. But as is the way with life, time passed and things changed. Contrary to many others, I don't happen to think change is a bad thing. I still had the pleasure of smiles and coos coming my way, but in addition, I had the sheer joy of hearing routinely one of the best sounds I have ever heard to this day, my son's giggle. By this time, the prankster in him had shown up. He lived to be funny and thought the most amusing thing on the planet was "to trick his Mommy". If someone had tried to make me understand this kind of love before I was personally introduced to it, they would have landed way short of the mark. There are no words that can possibly describe what it is like to feel the way I felt about this child, especially during this period. It was as if his very existence validated my own. He completely rearranged my priorities and all but eliminated the typical stresses of the twenties for me. Never, did I worry about things that were outside of my control. As long as Ryan was okay, Sharon was okay.

The clock kept ticking [faster and faster it seemed to me], and longer, leaner, more athletic arms now encircled my neck because of all the hours of basketball [then two and a half year old] Ryan played with his cousin Kendall on the Little Tykes goal in Ryan's bedroom. As they say, boys will be boys, and as the boys got bigger, the toys got bigger. The hugs were still plentiful, and the jokes though a bit more "little boy funny", kept right on coming. Little did I know, but I was being pulled deeper and deeper into this child's web and with each passing day, I was being wrapped tighter and tighter around his finger. I think it was Bill Cosby who referred to all the wonderful sensory sensations of dealing with babies as "false advertising". Sometimes I think he might be right. Though typically the optimist, and rarely the pessimist, there is a bit of the "NOTHING CAN BE THIS GOOD" ideology in me.

Skip ahead fourteen years to April 22, 2006. If you have ever spent any time with me, you know one thing for sure, I love a surprise. I thrive on setting up and pulling off elaborate surprises. On Saturday, April 22, 2006, I pulled off one of my biggest and best surprises yet. Here is the look on the face of my son as he appeared upon his very first glance at his surprise. Like I said, as the boys get bigger, so do the toys. You see, I always wanted my son to be independent, and self-reliant. I raised him to be that way. He has a good life, a very good life and that's exactly what I planned for him. It's why I worked so hard, in order to be able to do things for him that my mother always wished she could do for me. As they say, "Each one, teach one!" Well, I have a great mother and she taught me well. The other side of this coin is that when you raise a child to be outgoing and self-sufficient, you owe it to that child to facilitate his/her being able to go out and be outgoing. Until now, that meant chauffering my son all over God's creation, sometimes prohibiting me from doing something I wanted to do or from just sitting around doing nothing at all. NO MORE OF THAT!
But first, an oath....in front of witnesses and filmed for posterity on video tape. No, not even an oath, a covenant....yeah, that's it a covenant, a blood oath between mother and son before the keys actually exchange hands. Something like:

I, Ryan do hereby swear to obey all traffic laws and curfews. Realizing exactly how much my mother loves me, I will protect her "precious cargo" and will not participate in unsafe driving games even if encouraged to do so by my friends. I will appreciate the sacrifice that my beautiful mother has made so that I might have ACCESS to this vehicle which is now, and will continue to be owned solely by my mother, until such time as I successfully GRADUATE from high school. Then and only then, at the discretion of my beautiful mother will I own said vehicle. I do hereby solemnly swear that if ever my beautiful mother decides that she would like me to go out and pick up something even as trivial as a Snicker's bar, even if it is 2am, I will do so without attitude and with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I will refrain from filling the vehicle with riff and raff, and at no time, will it be utilized to transport "bucket-naked scrippers"....I, Ryan enter into this covenant here in the presence of my Mother, Grandmother, and Great-Grandmother, three generations of women in my family in front of whom I would never tell a lie for fear of retribution too horrible to be considered in the light of day.

Once the covenant had been completed, the keys were turned over to this young man who it seemed just yesterday was running over my foot with his Big Wheel in our little two bedroom apartment. Where has the time gone? What happened to my little boy; and who is this man that now stands in his place? The hugs are still plentiful, even to this day; though the arms are so thick and muscular now that the hugs are sometimes a little like being suffocated. The time passes before you know it....in a blink of an eye....and once it has passed, it won't come back again. So to the mothers reading this post who still have chubby little arms wrapping around their necks, a word of advice, SAVOR THE FLAVOR! Before you know it, you will have achieved what it was you set out to do....send an adult out into the world.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Hell and Home are Just Eleven Steps Apart

(This post was written on Wednesday, but issues with my computer and Blogger delayed its arrival here.)

Eleven steps. I know that most self-help programs encompass twelve steps, but eleven steps are all that stand between me and my goals. The eleven steps shown in the photo to the left to be exact. These eleven steps [currently uncarpeted due to the aftermath of "The Flood"], lead to my basement, which contains in a single room, everything I need to accomplish a goal I have "pursued" for many, many years now.

Now I bet you didn't know that "pursued" is a relative term.
  • Some of us when we pursue something, get very active. We get up, get motivated, and go with all guns blazing after that accomplishment until we finally capture the prize.

Some of us when we pursue something spend a lot of time talking about it, hoping for it, and wishing it to be so; while never actually making any definitive plans or taking any decisive action which might result in our actually procuring what we claim to be pursuing.

Then, there are others of us who make a plan, follow-through on that plan to accumulate the necessary resources to accomplish said goal, then spend a lot of time talking about the goal itself and all we've done to prepare ourselves to achieve said goal. And that's where the buck stops.

Regarding the goal that is the stimulus for this post, I fall into this last group.


The plans have been made. The resources appropriated and ready to be utilized. The goal itself and the how and why behind it have been talked into the ground. Now it's time to just shut up and in the prolific words of the old Nike marketing campaign, "JUST DO IT!"

So, that's just what I'm going to do. I am telling you all about it because I am soliciting the help of each one of you as well as this man...Mr. James K. He, as personal trainer extraodinaire! You all, as either cheerleaders [to keep my morale up], or as naysayers [to give me someone to prove wrong as I love a challenge]!

Ms. Just Write Now was a babe [back inna day]. She was an athlete, a swimmer, a Pom Pon Girl, a virtual DIVA! And she let it all go to pot! Now most women blame their transformed bodies [and I don't mean that in a good way] on the babies they've had. RYAN, THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT! [*Ms. Just Write Now so proud of herself for being strong enough to swallow her extreme vanity (as in street clothing, she "camouflages" well), and let you all see this before pic as things stand today!*] As a matter of fact, the day after I had Ryan, I weighed less than I had since before college, and the pic shows me when Ryan was just 4 weeks old....he was not as big as the bowling ball I was using....and his svelte Mommy was not bad off herself. During the entire full-term pregnancy, I gained only 9 pounds....that's right, NINE pounds. Ryan being a true lover of his Mommy was born weighing 7 pounds 4 ounces, leaving his Mommy holding no extra poundage for having carried him.

No, I can honestly say, that the body I'm dragging around currently is due in its entirety to my own love of junk foods, and a good, not-so-healthy case of the lazies. For years, I've talked a good game about getting it together again. I made all the preparations.....work-out clothes: check, gym membership: check, Weight Watchers at Work: check, I even outfitted a gym in my new house last year....check out the Body Mecca just eleven steps away in the basement.... There is a fully digitalized treadmill with a wide based tread and a CD player, a digital stationery bike, an Ab-lounger, and a 3 stack-3 station Universal Weight Gym, all just sitting there waiting to be of service.

This brings me to another point....
I am appalled to find out that one of the things I find most despicable in others can be found inside myself [isn't that ALWAYS the case].....wastefulness. To have access to all that one needs to accomplish a thing and still not make the necessary effort is inexcusably and unforgiveably wasteful. Even more than that, it is something of which we should be ashamed. So many would give all that they have for even a little bit of what I have and what am I doing with it? Well, at least as it applies to this goal and the resources I have access to which will enable me to achieve it, I am making a change....or should I say I am exerting the effort.

I have hired a trainer to get me started and to ensure I am on the right track. I have my first session today. He, [my trainer, torturer, rescuer depending on how I choose to view him at the time] will be back on Saturday and then again on Monday until I can handle this on my own. I will give one-hundred percent effort, heart, and dedication to making my dream a reality.....not quite this [pic courtesy of Leon of "Yeah...I Said It" blog fame], but halfway between here and where I am would be completely acceptable! Today is the day it starts.....when it will end, if it will end I can't say, but I have and will continue to commit myself to making sure that the gift of health [really good health even in this alien body] that God has chosen to favor me with will not be given in vain. I will celebrate my health, I will celebrate my body....this one and the REAL one underneath, and most of all I will celebrate ME! I'm hyped now! I'm ready to rush into the future that is mine for the taking. I'm all over this thing and for those of you who are pulling for me, the ones who've GOT MY BACK, I'm going to do this. For those of you who are waiting for me to fail, eat your hearts out when I don't. The time is now, the die has been cast, and in ten minutes my trainer and I will undertake our task....to find the muscles I KNOW still live somewhere beneath all this fat. Could we fail? As I used to say as a child, "we could might". Nevertheless, we can only fail if we first try, so here we go and let the chips fall where they may.

Before I finish, a word to the wise, IF I WERE A GAMBLING WOMAN, I WOULDN'T BET AGAINST ME! HARK! Somebody's knocking at my door ;)

THREE HOURS LATER....
Remember him? He's been here and gone.
I don't hate him quite yet, but the fact that I can barely support the weight of the body that believes itself to be mine, doesn't bode well for the future of our bond. I will say, the man knows that of which he speaks. I'm still all-in....100% died in the wool true blue....but DAMN!, does it have to be so hard?


Remember these? They used to be the stairs to my basement. Now they're all that stand between HELL AND HOME! Before today, I have run up and down them so many time without thinking, that right now, I'm dumbfounded by the fact that getting up them following this morning's session was tantamount to scaling Mount Everest. Eleven steps....just eleven steps between the me that I am and the me that I want to be. Just eleven steps between the Heaven that is my home upstairs and the Hell that is my Gym in the basement. Just eleven measley steps. What to do? What to do?......The longest of journeys begins with one step...


one, two, three....see ya at number eleven or somewhere in between....check back and be a witness to this historical climb!
(Pic to right is a lil' leg for a special pal....you know who you are!)

Monday, April 10, 2006

Who ya wit?

I've got one, I think we all do....that one girlfriend who is always making excuses for why her man isn't with her at this function or on that holiday. You know, that one person in your life who is always trying to convince you [or is it herself?] that things are going to improve in their relationship. My friend has been "dating" a guy for several years who has yet to meet anyone in our circle. He is never available to take her to functions when she needs/wants a date, he doesn't socialize with her family or friends; in actuality, I am doubtful that the brother even really exists except for the fact that she cries over him too much for him to be imaginary.

Another friend has a gift for surrounding herself with people who are simply put, TOXIC! Whether they are family members, significant others, or mere acquaintances, though seemingly normal at first, the majority of people in her life turn out to be just this side of being committed to the local looney bin. She is normal enough I'd say, but there is something about her that seems to attract people who wouldn't ever make it into my inner-circle let alone make it deep enough in to wreak the kind of havoc they have at times caused in her life.

Last but not least, I have family members who have adult children whom they have raised who for whatever reasons, have either never left home, or have returned home to live off their parents. Some even have multiple children of their own that they have brought along for the ride. This in and of itself is bad enough, but these same adult children have the audacity to expect their parents to take care of them even though they don't take care of their own children. These adult cousins of mine cuss out their parents, as well as disrepecting them in other ways, and in some cases, they even steal from their parents. Now what the hell is that about?

Even I, the great and powerful Ms. Just Write Now! did my own tour of duty trying to hang in there with someone for whom I was never a priority. On again, off again, I dedicated almost fifteen years to trying to make it work with someone who spent those same fifteen years doing everything and anything but trying to make it work with me. He loves me and I love him I'd tell myself....just give it time, he'll come around.

While blogging around the other day, I stopped in at one of my very favorite blogs, David's "Parrish, The Thoughts" , and in his comments section I stumbled upon the following:

Oscar In
Louisville
said...
".... if you can't change the people around you then
change the people around you..."

So simple....yet so very hard to do. NOT! Now many of you have probably seen or even said these very words before, and subsequently are thinking "big deal". I, on the other hand have never seen or heard this most valuable concept put quite so simply but eloquently [So please allow me my wonder].

"If you can't change the people around you then change the
people around you!"

How comprehendable, how precise, how very do-ABLE! So many times, we find ourselves caught up in situations that we know are not good for us. We spend precious time and expend tremendous energy trying to ""tweak", mold", "work with", "be patient", or just "out and out change" things, people, and situations that have absolutely no motivation for changing. We tell ourselves things like:

  • If I can just give it some time
  • If I can just be patient
  • He/She will come around
  • If only I had tried.....
  • Maybe if I.....
  • Things will get better when.....

The list goes on and on. The reality of the situation is that it probably won't get better! In fact it will most likely get much worse. The fact of the matter is that someone who cares so little about us that they would put us in these or similar situations to begin with has no reason to change. Peep it from their perspective, "Why change? What's in it for me?" As they are already controlling the situation and obviously not at our mercy, why should they change? What would be their motivation?

In every life, there must come a time when healthy self-interest takes over and makes us stand up for ourselves, protect ourselves, even claim a little piece of the universe just for ourselves. Every once in a while, we need to give ourselves permission to go on and be a little bit selfish. For me, that meant ending my dead-end relationship, getting my own place again, and investigating things that I loved doing like blogging, happy hours, and enrolling in school where I could exercise my brain cells and broaden my circle of friends. To me, I say "Hey! You only get one shot at this and you're wasting it here, doing this, with him? Your decision, but I never figured you for a damned fool!" Put more reasonably, "If you can't change the people around you, then change the people around you."

In the case of my aunts whose grown ass kids have obviously lost their minds, I say "Throw their grown butts out! You raised them. You fed and housed them and did what you were obligated to do. It's your turn to live...take it!" Put more reasonably, "If you can't change the people around you, then change the people around you."

In the case of my gurl whose people are toxic I say "Gurl move on. Let those people go! They do not have your best interest at heart and why you are giving them any part of your heart I don't know. I love you and I'm close to normal which means that other normal people can love you to! Go find them and kick these knuckle heads in your life to the curb!" Put more reasonably, "If you can't change the people around you, then change the people around you."

As for my other gurl...with the "Invisible Man" I say "Drop him like he's hot! Afterall, you don't even spend enough time with him to really miss him anyway." Put more reasonably, "If you can't change the people around you, then change the people around you."

Life is short. Change happens. When it happens, change happens fast....you used to do it this way, now you do it that way. Its that quick. It is immediate. It is now. Nothing gradual about it. If you are waiting patiently for change, you will be waiting a long time, as change doesn't take time. Change takes one making up one's mind to change and then doing it....JUST LIKE THAT!

Check out who you're with....If they're not the kinda people you want to be with, don't waste time trying to change them,

CHANGE THEM!

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Do You Believe In Tinkerbell?

"....I know you're going to say that you're just speaking the truth, and I'm
sure you think it's elementary for me to criticize you on this, but I've noticed
that people today like to be mean for no reason. Why? This is just something
that has been bugging me lately..." -- Reese the Law Girl

I clipped the above quote from the comments section of a fellow blogger whose site I read routinely. I had posted a comment to a post on this site, and the blogger's response to my comment was somewhat harsh and judgemental. Reese the Law Girl, another blogger reading the post and my subsequent comment on the blog, posted her own comment in response to the original blogger's post; and then followed up with a second comment in which the above excerpt was embedded addressing the original blogger's response to my comment.

This post is not a commentary on the particular exchange between the blogger in question, Reese, and myself. Instead, it is an examination of a bigger issue that I think this exchange is indicative of....the unconscious, almost automatic meanness we all sometimes display. When I saw the original blogger's response to my comment, [which I must add, though in disagreement with his position, was totally respectful of his viewpoint even as I asserted my own], I too felt as Reese did: His response was mean and for no apparent reason! Like Reese, this is something that has been bugging me lately.

In the course of doing my job, I go in and out of buildings multiple times every day. I enter hospitals, medical buildings, cancer centers etc. and interact with receptionists, gift shop staff, and others that I meet in elevators, stairwells, and various places as I go about my business. I smile, sometimes nod, almost always say at least a hello. If I am going into a building and notice someone coming in behind me or trying to enter just as I'm leaving, I stop and hold the door until they are through. However, I find that frequently, I have not received the same treatment when the situation was reversed. Why not...I find myself wondering?

As I watch television [reality TV in particular], the comments that are made about and to people constantly shock me. From Simon's downright rude and totally irrelevant comments about American Idol contestants to comments such as the one I heard this evening on America's Next Top Model when one of the judges made the comment about a contestant that "if we were looking for America's Next Top Tramp, she'd be a shoo-in because she looks like a tramp.", I often find myself picking up my lower jaw from the floor. I constantly find myself wondering...Why was it necessary that he/she say that? Does the privelege of being an American living in the land of "free speech" entitle any of us to behave in this manner?

Those of you who come here often know me to be an upbeat, optimistic person who typically tries to find the silver lining that exists without a doubt behind every cloud. Even so, I would not say that I am a "goody-two-shoes" whose "virgin ears" are easily offended. I enjoy a good joke as much as the next person, and sarcasm when in the proper context and not utilized to diminish others, is one of my absolute favorite sports [notice I said sport....not bloodsport!]; after all, I grew up in the hood and can "play the dozens" with the best of them. However, increasingly, I find that more and more frequently I am double-taking on things I can't believe I heard or saw. There seems to be an ever-increasing trend which I can only diagnose as an apparent decline in the importance of using what we know.

Whenever I do something that I know my parents would not have been proud of, I jokingly say "Please don't blame my parents for my behavior because though it may not appear to be the case, I was taught better than this....my mother taught me better, but currently, I'm choosing not to use what I was taught!" I often find myself wondering whether this is the case universally anymore or if we are simply failing to teach the basics anymore. As they say, [ALL I EVER NEEDED TO KNOW, I LEARNED IN KINDERGARTEN]. Is this still true? Are we still being taught everything we really need to know in kindergarten?...you know, the basics like play nice, share, say please and thank you, if you can't say something nice, say nothing at all...? Are we being taught these things still and simply choosing not to use them? Or, are we simply not being taught these things at all?

I'm finding that people are rude and oftentimes even mean when there is absolutely no reason for them to be this way. It happens everywhere....at home, at work, at church....you name the place, it doesn't matter....it's everywhere.

I think it comes down to the possible impending death of "the two uncommon commons" as I like to call them:

  • Common sense

&

  • Common courtesy.

I can't be sure, but there is a good chance, that they both may be on the verge of death if not already in their respective graves. Common sense always told us that those around us probably want no less than we ourselves want; and to improve our chances of getting what we want, we should make our best attempt to give others what they want. Common courtesy always compelled us to treat others with kindness, consideration, compassion, and respect simply because it was the right thing to do. As we all learned in kindergarten, It is NEVER wrong to do the right thing! EVER! I for one, sure do miss these two uncommon commons and would love to see more evidence of their existence.

To that end, I thought a Peter Pan/Tinkerbell moment might be in order. So, if you're reading this post still, take a second at your earliest opportunity and do something, anything to honor and show your support of the two uncommon commons in the hope that the demonstration of your continued belief and faith in their powers will sustain them through this rough patch. Smile at someone, nod or say Hello, hold a door or pick up the quarter they dropped while trying to pay for their groceries instead of watching them chase it across the aisle....do something, ANYTHING. Hopefully, this will cause the commons to once again begin to germinate, pollinate, and blossom like fields of jasmine across this great gift called MOTHER EARTH until one day, we will get back to where we once were....incorporating all the things we ever needed to know and learned in kingergarten into our day in day out interactions with the world around us!

Monday, April 03, 2006

Second Guessing...When Does "Responsibly Making Sure" Become "The Obstacle"?

I waited 'til I saw the sun
I don't know why I didn't come
I left you by the house of fun
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come
When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand
My heart is drenched in wine
But you'll be on my mind
Forever
Out across the endless sea
I would die in ecstasy
But I'll be a bag of bones
Driving down the road alone
My heart is drenched in wine
but you'll be on my mind
Forever
Something has to make you run
I don't know why I didn't come
I feel as empty as a drum
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come
From the moment I first heard the above lyrics to Norah Jones' "Don't Know Why?", I was entranced by the song. The clarity of her voice combined with the beautiful melody and these haunting lyrics mesmerized me so much so that I played the song on repeat in my car for weeks. I was introduced to Ms. Jones' "Come Away With Me" CD by way of a Christmas present given to me by my son Ryan. He revels in introducing me to "good" music created by artists of his generation as I'm always telling him that the best that his favorites have to offer is typically sampled from the best of the artists of my generation. No originality I say! Norah was an attempt on his part to prove me wrong...a successful attempt at that! (LOL)
I hadn't listened to the CD for a few weeks, when I popped it into my CD player yesterday, and found myself once again dragged deep into the lyrics. Now, I don't pretend to know what Norah or whoever the songwriter is was thinking when they wrote this song, but for me, it leads to the thought: "What am I really doing? Looking for Mr. Right, or finding excuses for why no one is Mr. Right Enough?" As a 41 year old woman who has never been married but believes in her heart that she would like to be, I find myself wondering why it is that I'm not married, nor even involved in a serious relationship. I date quite frequently, I'm happy to say; though few men impress me as the type of man I think I would like to spend my life with.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, "Through The Fire...", I have been involved in several long-term relationships though none have ended in marriage. I often joke with friends that the one thing all of their failed relationships have in common is their own involvement. As they say, "we joke the truth". Are my failed relationships and my lack of a strong, stable marriage my own fault? Is my own involvement in my relationships the kiss of death that sends them to the relationship burial ground? Are the men I am meeting, dating, and discarding or relegating to the status of "just friends" really unacceptable long-term mates or is that my cover-up for self-sabotaging what I profess to want more than anything else at this point in my life? Is Norah right, "Does something have to make you run?", and if so, "Exactly what is that something in my case?"
I have a friend, [a male friend who I started out dating and sent over to the "just friends" team], who is constantly telling me that I am my own worst obstacle in the relationship quest. He says that though I do have a lot on the ball, my desire to "be sure" is killing any chance I might have for a lasting relationship with a man. He says that when we were dating, I was so "inquisitive" and for me everything was so in-depthly serious that it was difficult for him to respond as he felt that I required too much information too soon. I could argue and say that what he says isn't true, but I would be lying. I am a very "deep" person some would say. I like to really know things and people. I want to know what motivates an individual...what drives them...what do they believe...what do they believe in...what do they live for and for what, would they be willing to die? I feel that I know what I want out of life and to some extent from a relationship; minimally, that would require someone with whom I can be me...in all my deeply inquisitive glory! Thus, when my friend says these things about my sabotaging myself in relationships, I usually respond that when the man who is right for me comes along, this "attribute" of delving so deeply that is so typically me will not frighten or scare him away; it will probably be the thing he loves most about me. I say that anyone who would be scared off by this trait that is so close to being the very definition of me, is more than likely inherently wrong for me. He would be scared away eventually anyway, and for me, sooner is better than later in that case.
Sounds reasonable. Sounds rational. But here in the dark, [Major storms hit St. Louis this afternoon and my home has been without power since about 5pm and it is now 10:11pm as I type this...thank God for back-up computer batteries!], as I lie here alone in my bed typing this post I can't help but wonder: "Is it just a cop-out? " , "Is it what strong, upwardly-mobile, professional, black women who have their so-called shit together say when they are lonely and don't know when or if they are ever going to have the love of that strong, stable, dedicated black man for whom they've waited so long?", or "Is it truly that none of the men I have met and dated are right for me?".
These are the thoughts that sometime come to mind as I [a single queen], lay alone in the king-sized bed in which I sleep and sometimes dream of the king with whom I can one day share it.
"Is Something Making Me Run?"
Because
I Don't Know Why He Doesn't Come...

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

The Best Gifts Come Packaged In Skin!

Sometimes, if you're very good you receive a great gift as a reward. Sometimes, if you're very diligent, your hard work pays off with a special gift which acknowledges your efforts. But sometimes, you receive a gift that is unexpected, seemingly out of the blue, and laid at your feet due to nothing you did to earn or necessarily deserve it. When this phenomenon happens, the smart individual recognizes it for the blessing it is, and from that point forward does everything in his/her power to be worthy of keeping it. I have had this exact thing happen to me in the gift that is my best friend in the world: Angela!

We met almost twenty-one years ago on the first day of pharmacy school following the orientation session. During the orientation presentation, I noticed this beautiful young woman who seemed to be a bit out of her element. I had attended undergrad at the same school, and thus was a veteran on campus. Angie on the other hand had transferred from a school on the west coast. Throughout the orientation, I noticed that she glanced several times to the rear of the auditorium where a distinguished looking older black man stood. I wondered if he too were new to the school and made a mental note to offer to show them both around campus. When the session ended and we were dismissed, I made my way over and introduced myself to Angie who in turn introduced me to the gentleman at the back of the auditorium...her Dad! To this day, I still tease her about her "Daddy taking his babygirl to school on her first day like she was starting kindergarten or something"! [LOLOLOLOL]

I've always thought that physically, Angie is one of the most beautiful women I know personally. Extraordinarily though, she has a beautiful spirit as well. Over the past twenty years, we have seen each other through thick and thin, and I have to send her props as it has to be a lot more work for her to be my friend than it is for me to be hers as I tend to "let it all hang out", while she needs "to have her troubles blackmailed out of her". During college, we even had a physical fight that resulted in our not speaking or associating with each other for more than a year. Even that could not end our friendship, and having reconciled, we have built and sustained a friendship that I don't believe anything could ever destroy.

We are more than friends, we are family...in many ways, more so than the people with whom we share DNA qualify as family. When she got married,

I was there in all my Maid of Honor glory! When I tried to get married [;), she was there trying to be a glorious Matron of Honor! Through job changes, relationship start-ups and crash landings, new homes, and babies, she's always been there. She is so special to me that I once sent a Thank You card to her mother for having and raising the spectacular woman I was lucky enough to have as my best friend. Just the other day, I was reading a fantastic series of posts on James' "Peace On That" blog which was focused on men and how little they actually share with each other. Excellent series of posts, and quite enlightening without question, however, as I read through them, I could only think of how very lucky I am to be a woman. Women have such an incredible ability to be open and accessible to each other. Women share things, private things and things that are just plain silly. We don't care...we thrive when we can connect with another woman and to the men who read my blog, I'm sorry if you're not one of the very few who has evolved to this stage of development. I often tell my son that if something ever should happen to me leaving him to wonder "who I was or what it was that I was about", he should go to his Godmother [of course that would be Angie] as she probably knows me, better than I know myself.

In August of 2005, Angie and I and the rest of our book club attended the National Book Club Conference. While there, we had the privelege of meeting Donna Grant and Virginia Deberry the celebrated authors of "Far From The Tree" , "Trying To Sleep In The Bed You Made" , and "Better Than I Know Myself". During their discussion, these wonderful ladies talked about their friendship which in many ways mirrors the relationship Angie and I share. When Donna Grant's husband proposed to her a few years ago, before accepting his proposal, she drilled into his psyche that if he wanted her, he had to take the entire package which included her friend and writing partner Virginia Deberry. When they related this story, Angie and I almost died laughing as it was like a deja vu of the conversations we have had with her husband who accepts me as part of the "package" deal that is his wife! He and I are like brother and sister, and I love them as I love my flesh and blood relatives...unconditionally. Though she does everything extremely well, what Angie does best is parent her two sons, my Godsons, Darius and Nathan. To see her with either of her children, [or mine for that matter], is to truly see her in her element. Her devotion to these very special young men is what has led me to ask that she become my son's guardian in the event that I am not around to handle the job. She is a brilliant, doting mother who finds the time and energy to be a total participant in the lives of our children. We are so incredibly in sync with each other that we even had our firstborn sons ten days apart; after which we vowed to each other that they would grow up "together" though we have never again lived in the same state since college. To that end, we travel to see each other on average about every other month, take family and "gurlz" vacations together, and talk on the phone sometimes multiple times per day.

Last Saturday was Angie's birthday, the anniversary of the date on which the miracle that became my best friend was born. For me, this date is almost as special as my own birthday. If I tried to make her understand what she brings to my world, she'd think I was lying as she could not possibly conceive of the value she has brought to my life. This post is late in being uploaded because Blogger [like always when I'm trying to be timely] has given me issues all week. Nevertheless, I never stopped trying to post this most important of blog posts to tell the world at large how very blessed I am to have Mrs. Angela D. W.................. as my very own best friend. Like I said in the beginning, The very best gifts come packaged in skin!

Happy Birthday Again Angela...I Love You, Love You, LOVE YOU!!!



Monday, March 27, 2006

The Brain...How Amazing!

Hang in there with me guys as I try to keep current with my posts...Blogger is being a real pain in the blog right now and not allowing me to upload pics or anything else I need to complete several new posts...y'all know how I LOVES my pictures! Hopefully, the following will hold you over until I can posts some stuff I really want to post. Check back tonight or tomorrow morning. PEACE!


If you can read this, you have a strange mind too

Can you raed tihs?
i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg.
The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at
Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a
wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be
in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed
it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed
ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and
I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!


I received the above paragraph over email and was amazed by the fact that my brain is built such that I could actually read this. I was even more astonished to find that I could read this scrambled paragraph at almost the same rate of speed at which I would have read it if all the words were presented in the correct order. What does this say about my brain? [No, I am not dyslexic ;-)] What does this say about the brains of those of us who can't figure out some or all of the scrambled words? I don't have the answer to either of these questions, but I am definitely intrigued by the concept of all the magnificent things our brains can do!

Maybe being "hooked on phonics" isn't the end-all be-all of human existence it is cracked up to be ;-)

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Welcome Spring!




Its Here!
Its Here!




SPRING IS FINALLY HERE!

Though the calendar might believe today to be the first official day of spring, God says:

NOT!

I purchased these Hydrangeas with the thought of having lovely spring flowers on my outside tables for a spa party/barbecue this upcoming weekend...even with the snow, they do look lovely on the table ;)

SPRING!

A St. Louis Pictorial At The Home Of

Ms. Just Write Now!




This is a flowering Lily tree which probably is so confused it will never flower again.

At it's base, is a lavender bush that stands about 8 feet tall when not weighted down by pounds and pounds of snow. The scent it gives off when in bloom is wonderful, and attracts the beautiful Monarch butterflies which add even more color to the bush's beautiful purple blooms.

Buried beneath the snow where the fences join in the lower left corner of the picture, are 60 Tulips which were just starting to push through the hard earth but had not yet bloomed. Each time I glance out my kitchen window and see this joy of nature, I can't help but think about K.O. Johnson's beautiful post "On A Lighter Note...", about how tulips do whatever they can to"access the light". I sure hope my tulips understand this most important concept, and continue to stretch toward the light once the weight of the snow is removed from their sturdy little leaves. No Bar-B-Ques anytime soon, but the beauty of my backyard in the snow is something that I personally wouldn't mind seeing more of next winter. This is my first winter in the house, and this is the first and only significant snow we poor, neglected, lovers of winter were priveleged to see so far this winter!

Some here in St. Louis awakened this morning and felt they had been cheated out of the glory of a typical first day of a new spring. Some awakened and decided to roll over and go back to sleep. I awakened and smiled at God's First Day Of Spring joke, and took my dog out for a stroll through our spring/winter wonderland of a backyard! We played in the snow and had all manner of fun. The beauty of snow, the premiere sign of winter, coating the premiere sign of spring, fresh, kelly-green leaves [sprouting from the buds on the trees and bushes surrounding my house], was an amazing study in contrasts. During my walk, I saw a red-breasted Robin flitting from one tree to another. Though it is not the typical idea of spring that pops into one's mind when they think of spring, it was cleansing in the way that only spring is. I felt renewed, reborn, and optimistic about the fresh new season waiting under the snow to show itself and the brilliant colors, scents, and sensations that it brings. In my opinion, this atypical FIRST DAY OF SPRING brought with it, the best of both seasons! Let's face it, we'll all be complaining about the heat soon enough!

Spring flowers sitting on a Summer Bar-b-que covered by Winter's snow! All we're missing is Autumn...you've gotta love the beauty of this picture!