The truth

I've had a lot of anxiety this week. Krista's death, coupled with wandering out into the world, has caused physical and mental problems. Sleep has been elusive, and our house is more subdued.

I know it won't last. Life will gradually return to what it was before my friend suddenly lost her life, but for now, I mourn and continuously think about her family.

And I face my mortality.

No matter our real age, we feel we're invincible. Death is for those who've lived long lives, raised children, and accomplished items on the bucket list. As the years move, age slides further down the numerical line because, hey, fifty-five isn't old. We have years!

It's a load of crap, of course, but it's what we hold on to because to think otherwise is scary. Then reality smacks us in the face, and we realize--it can happen to us.

Ack!

Life goes on even as I second guess each pain in my body. Eventually, this worry will fade into the next concern, arising only at times when Krista will pop into my head. This death isn't my first rodeo. Unfortunately, I've lost way too many people not to know the drill.

But now, stuck in my house while the world implodes around me, I'm not there yet.

Quarantine day 78

As COVID continues to harm the world, our country swirls. Round and round, faster and faster, we swirl like water in a sink avoiding the drain. Every day the news is worse. An uptick in sickness as states reopen. Citizens against citizens, shouting, accusing, judging. Yet another African American death at the hands, or in this case, the knee of a police officer. No strong leadership urging caution, commanding peace, taking charge.

What the hell is happening?

Wherever you stand politically, and no one can convince me this hasn't become part of the divide, you have to admit this country is spiraling. Human decency has flown out the window. A letter to the editor from a woman saying she will only wear a mask when everyone wears a Fitbit because COVID is only a death sentence to the obese? Peaceful demonstrators being smoked, gunned, or run over for voicing their anger? Arsonists and looters destroying businesses in the hopes people will listen?

Our forefathers are rolling in their graves.

In this time, especially for those of us still quarantining, we should all go back to school--to history class. We need a refresh on why our ancestors formed this country. A reminder to their vision of which we've clearly lost sight of. 

I read an article recently regarding William Golding's, Lord of the Flies, a novel of a group of stranded boys governing themselves on a deserted island. The author of the article set out to discredit Golding's account, believing instead that boys forced to survive would do better. By accident, he discovered an actual incident of a group of schoolboys shipwrecked on an uninhabited island for over a year, and in tracking down their rescuer, the author was heartened to learn his faith in humankind was correct. Every boy survived, but they did so by establishing on day one, they would only live by working together.

I hope the people in this country will come to that realization too.

Some day soon.

Random things running rampant

• If I scanned ten pictures a day until the end of the year, I'd make a big dent in whittling down my boxes of photos.

• Keeping hard-boiled eggs in the refrigerator gives me a quick protein at any time of the day.

• Why does getting organized (i.e., making lists) take more work than being organized?

• I've never been someone who wondered how things worked, which is most likely why I dislike science.

• The Cleveland Browns have fired their head coaches always after the team plays the Steelers. That is usually at the end of the season. Do you think the NFL put the game earlier in the year, hoping that wouldn't happen? Pfft. Oh, well.

• Why can't I pronounce words correctly aloud? They always sound perfect in my head.

• The rest of the country is experiencing fall weather with cooler temperatures except for Florida. Yet, Floridians want that. But isn't the opposite the reason why we moved here in the first place?

• For always being negative regarding my body, I'm damned proud of the way it bounces back from trauma.

• Why is everything on my desk, but the thing I need most?

• Edit my way or not at all. That logic might be harmful, yet I can't stop.

• Yesterday I wanted my mommy.

• Someone needs to invent an eraser that can withstand Florida. I think I need to wrap Saran around each eraser on my pencils so that they stay moist so I can erase things. Or, I need to stop making mistakes.

• How come when I had kids living here, planning meals seemed more natural?

• I love my Steelers Nation Unite sticky note cube.

• Some days I just don't feel the story.

Pen Name

As I work toward a career in romance writing, my recent consideration has been a pen name. Long ago, in the times of my angsty teen years, I created my cmkerwin pen name. Only it was C.M. Kerwin, Kerwin being the last name of an actor named James Kerwin who played a character on a show titled James at 15, and the first two initials referring to my name at that time. I thought it clever but, alas, never had a need to use it

Then the electronic age came rushing in and I needed a username for everything under the sun. Tada! I pulled out C.M. Kerwin from under the bed, dusted it off, changed it to cmkerwin and it became my identity on social media.

The only issue I incurred came from an aunt of a guy named Chris Kerwin. This aunt kept emailing her nephew Chris little notes and gift cards on his birthday to my email address. This was not long after my Ebay hacking, and so I deleted her emails sure she was a scammer out to lure me to open up these gift card links, which I didn't even feel right about because I wasn't the said recipient. I had some twinges about Chris not writing a thank you note, but I figured it would all get straightened out at their next family reunion. Apparently, it didn't. I continued receiving the occasional email from Aunt Toto until one day her email came informing Chris of the death of his uncle. UH...

I emailed her back, fussed up to not being Chris, expressed my sorrow for her loss, and then crossed my fingers she wasn't a scammer out to destroy my precious cmkerwin email that I loved so very much. She responded with a big thank you and that was the end of that. My handle, my pen name, my username was once again mine.

When I decided to pursue the romance writing angle, I immediately figured I'd use cmkerwin as my pen name because it is my pen name and has been for oh, so very long. It is my identity! It is me. Now was my moment to make it worldwide. Only after using it for the first time in a contest that I recently found out I won (yeah me!), C.M. Kerwin didn't look all that spiffy on the winners' sheet.

It could be that a creative font is all I need but now that I've seen it in print C.M. isn't exactly a romantic name. Suddenly, in addition to coming up with names for characters, I'm on the hunt for a pen name. As creative as I am in storytelling and writing romance plots, things like titles and pen names are not my forte, and the person that I usually use for these sort of things is currently off the grid where I am concerned so I'm on my own.

Choosing this is more personal than I thought. It's like the time at the social security office when I had to change my name to my married name. Then it was losing a piece of me. Now its adding a piece of me.

I could go with my maiden name. Or I could use that Facebook generator that gives your stripper name using letters from your name or some such nonsense, but something tells me Sugar Glitter Kiss isn't going to cut it any more than C.M. Kerwin. I thought Darcy Madison. Personal, a twist I thought quite clever, but the more I contemplated it the more I realized that I wanted this to be about me for a change and not about my kids. Sorry girls.

The hunt reminds me of a teenage girl combining her first name and the last name of her crush on her school's notebook. I still have some of the notebooks that read Cara Anderson, but I can't even go with that one because it's the last name of my daughter's boy toy! I chucked it immediately out of the consideration pile like I did all of the baby names my husband made fun of while trying to name our first child.

Currently, I'm going through family names. As a kid our elders' names were so, well old, and we rolled our eyes at their names, but I'm finding myself gravitating to them now. Ruby is romantic. I could get behind that one, but what to pair it with? I turned to Google. Articles on the subject range from using your favorite singer to your favorite drink. Ruby Keith? Ruby Rum? One generator that I used asked me questions such as my pet's first name and a street I lived on. That generated Amos Ash. Yep. Nope.

In my phone, I've jotted down names that I hear in my daily life that catch my ear, but those have already conjured up characters in my mind, belonged to those heroines, and thus, are off the table. Now I've started a list for my pen name. Just like I did when trying to name that baby once in my womb. Like that time, I guess I'll narrow it down and choose, but right now it's just another procrastination.

If anyone out there has a suggestion, please let me know. If I chose it I will send you a free copy of the book that it appears on. Of course, I have to finish said book first, find an agent, and an editor, and a publisher and sell the darn thing, but please know that if it ever gets to print a copy is yours for the taking!

My election rant because dammit I can't escape it

I thought I could get away without discussing politics on my blog. I really did. I took a lot of precautions regarding my opinions about this year's political scene. 

I swore off of Facebook. I refused to put myself near people who would want to argue politics. But this election year is crazy. I cannot go one day without it being shoved into my face. I bet I get at least ten phone calls a day to discuss the election. I get at least that many asking me to take a survey. This past week I've had three people show at my door to discuss and/or ask me questions about politics. And don't even get me started on the crap that fills my mailbox each afternoon. It is nuts.

First, let me start by saying that as soon as I could vote, which was a year later than my fellow classmates, I registered as a Republican. Eighty percent of my doing so, was because my mother was a staunch Republican, and twenty percent was because of my fangirling of Abraham Lincoln. 

Secondly, although I am still registered as a Republican, I am no longer a supporter of this party, at least not the party it is today. I tell people I am a Lincoln Republican, but sadly that party is kaput. 

Lastly, I am, as soon as the election is over, going to change my party affiliation to Independent. My father was registered as an Independent, and I was always in awe of that choice. I thought it very "hippy," a word that would never be associated with my father.

Because I am still registered as a Republican, as is my husband, I get the calls from that party. I feel inundated every year, all their pushing is forcing me to take a step away. 

I have called the National headquarters several times to report my mother's death. Each time the person on the other end of the phone informs me they are well aware of this information. I then inquire as to why they keep sending out letters soliciting money to a dead woman. I get something from them addressed to my mother EVERY DAY. E-V-E-R-Y-D-A-Y. I'm not kidding. I usually end the phone call with, "Put the amount of money you are spending on postage to dead people into your coffers," which is something my mother would, and did, say. 

Now, I open the mail, write DECEASED in black Sharpie across whatever is inside, and mail it back to them. They pay the postage. Then I say out loud, "I'm hoping to bankrupt the Republican Party," which is similar to what my mother used to say when she went into a doctor's office and told them she would take any and all tests they required because she was hoping to "bankrupt Medicare." 

I often feel she is speaking through me, and I've contemplated hiring an exorcist, but that is a blog entry for another time.

As a SAHM, I have a tendency to talk to solicitors who call me or who pop up at my door. It comes from not seeing other adults most of the day, but lately, I've not handled it well. 

Without giving out my political preferences on this blog, I HATE DONALD TRUMP WITH A PASSION, I have to discuss these surveys. Are not things black and white? On second thought, don't even think about that question because they are. Either you are, or you aren't. But these surveys can't just make it a yes or no question. Below, is a conversation I had last night via the telephone with a young Indian voice that kept cutting in and out as if a pause button were being tapped every other word:

Him: "If the Presidential candidates today were Republican Donald Trump and Democrat Hillary Clinton, would you say you were more likely to vote for Republican Donald Trump or Democrat Hillary Clinton?"

Me: "There is no "if" about it. Those are the candidates today.

Silence

Him: "If the election were held today for President, would you say you would vote for candidate Republican Donald Trump?"

Me: "No. I hate Donald Trump. I wouldn't vote for him if I was held at gunpoint. And you can quote me on that."

Him: "Would you be "highly likely," "somewhat likely," "maybe likely," highly dislikely," "somewhat dislikely," or "maybe dislikely" to vote for Presidential candidate Donald Trump?"

I should have hung up. I mean, I think my answer said it all. In the survey before this one, it was "highly favorable," "somewhat favorable," and so on regarding each candidate. The study before that one, asked for a scale with "1 being "more supportive," 2 being "somewhat supportive," 3 being "less supportive," and so on. 

A week ago, I told the woman on the phone that I would only take the survey if she let me just answer the questions once I knew the correct phrasing because it drove me batty to have to listen to the choices each time. She agreed to that and then ignored me. My friend Kelly was here at that time, and she kept yelling at me when I rolled my eyes or put the phone down in my lap or griped.

Kelly: "Stop that! Stop that right now. If you didn't like this, then you shouldn't have agreed to take the survey. They have a script that has to be followed because opinion polls have exact questions...." and she went on and on, and then I had to ask the woman to repeat the question because I couldn't hear her over Kelly's scolding. Which I found funny, and then snickered. The woman never strayed from her script.

Why? Why all of this nonsense? It is a yes or no question. Will you or won't you? Black or white? If you want to delve further into my psyche, then type in that I'm passionate about my answer. What is with all of this other stuff? How does my response of "somewhat" or "maybe" help you in whatever you hope to accomplish by asking these questions? Not only is it annoying, but it makes these surveys so much longer during a time I'm cooking or eating dinner.

Last night a young man appeared at my door while Kelly and I were sitting on the couch talking. When he told me he was from the Democratic party, I jumped up to speak with him, excited that the other party was making a play for me. 

Me: "Wow. Awesome. Lay it on me."

Him: "Is there a Madison that I can talk to?"

Me: "Sigh. Only if you hike to North Carolina."

Today, a young lady from some organization that had the word "Freedom" in it came up my walkway with a tablet to ask me questions concerning our candidate for the Senate race. She actually wanted to ask me about specific policies, worded by her organization, to see if they swayed me toward the candidate. 

She started in with her list of would you, could you, should you nonsense, and then she actually raised her eyebrows at my answers.

Me: "Look. I get that you have to ask me stuff, and you need your boxes filled out, but here is the thing. I'm voting the way I'm voting due to my own personal opinions and beliefs. They aren't yours. They aren't my neighbors. In the end, we're all doing that. We're going with the candidate who shares those same beliefs. I'm not undecided. Nothing you say is going to sway me at this point. Am I happy about this election? Hell, no. Do I think this country is going to hell in a handbasket? Hell, yes. Do I think this election is crazy, and the people involved crazy? Yes. They are. It's sad, actually. Everyone is out for himself and to hell with everyone else. So yes, I'm voting for this candidate that you obviously are not voting for, and nothing you say will change my mind. Okay?"

Her: "Okay, thank you for your time. Can I ask you something?"

Me: "Absolutely. Ask away."

Her: "Is Tom here?"

Me: "You just missed him."

Her: "Would you say he has a favorable or unfavorable opinion about the candidate."

Me: "Oh, believe me, he is unfavorable. He loves saying the opposite of everything I say. Ain't America great?"

Here's Maxwell!

Yesterday while at the Dermatologist's office for an exam ("so much sun exposure, so much sun exposure"), I was put in the same room that I'm always in--one with very little for the eyes and brain. The walls are white, there are only two chairs and a table, and the only things to read are pamphlets about dreaded skin diseases or skincare. Oh, and there's a sink and cabinet, and a rolling stool for the medical professional.

Also, there is a painting--ignore the lights and my reflection.

I enjoy studying this painting. It is simple, and strange, and happy, and every time I stare at it, I wonder--what the hell?

I mean, where is this pond that appears to be in the middle of nowhere? Where is the farm? Are pigs natural divers? What went through the artist's mind when he decided what he'd paint on the canvas? No one--not even my dermatologist--has a clue or information about this painting.


Leaving my appointment, a commercial came on the radio--the Geico ad starring Maxwell, the pig. He of the "whee whee whee" all the way home, head hanging out the car window, pinwheel in hoof commercial. This time he was without his signature "whee," because the director didn't want it in the commercial.

Maxwell: "But, it's sort of my thing."

Director: "Stick to the script"

It's a terrible ad, but it explained the painting I'd just left! That's the pig who plays Maxwell in the Geico commercials. He's on his estate in the Hollywood hills--earned from the money he's made from Geico, and that's his pool, and he's obviously living it up after a long day of filming! Probably an artist was there for some portrait work, and he captured the moment.

I'm so thrilled to have figured it out.

But then I sat down to blog about it and made the mistake of Googling the painting. It is called Kohler's Pig and is an oil painting by Michael Sowa (I'm not making that up). He apparently paints many animals, and pigs are the main subject.

I like my version better...

Monday Musings

• Where has the year gone already? It is almost March and I haven't accomplished anything I said I would get done before spring. My list keeps getting bigger and bigger. I wish I had help.

• Why can't I get out birthday gifts on time? I had 4 gifts to send out in two months and I still haven't gotten them sent out. The gift I really wanted to send my sister-in-law was a plane ticket to Florida for a week so she could help me with the projects I need to finish. But then would that really be a gift? Would someone take care of her children?

• Wouldn't it have been great if no one had shown up to Tiger Wood's "apology"?

• Why is my memory going? I forgot to send out birthday stuff. I forgot to pay my bill. I forgot what I wanted to get my two friends for upcoming birthdays. I forgot to blog.

• What is it my dog is asking of me when he barks and pushes his nose into my thigh? I just took him out for a walk and a potty break. What more does he want? Can't he just go somewhere in the house and be a dog? A dog who leaves me be?

• Why can't the Olympics start earlier in the evening?

• Why do I have all of this stuff in my house? Where did it come from? Do I even really need it?

• Will I ever catch up on my television watching? I'm 5 hours behind in American Idol for heaven's sake!

• Should I just go take a nap? I had a crappy week and a crappy weekend and my body is crying out for sleep. Is this denial? Is this depression? Or am I just tired?

Chatting away about everything and anything

After Madison was born, I took her out and about in the stroller to the mall or in her infant seat to the grocery store and I always talked to her. I talked to her as if she had an opinion and would let me know it. I discussed our weekly night menu options. I'd ask how she liked an item, holding it up for her perusal. Once while at the mall in the Sears baby section, a lady peered around the rack of clothes and to stare down at baby Madison.

Her: "My goodness, I thought you were talking to yourself, but I see you aren't. Still...she's a little young isn't she, to understand what you're saying?"

Me: (smiling) "I believe she does understand, and if she doesn't know, someday she will."

The woman rolled her eyes and left me in peace, and I continued, keeping that woman in mind, to always chatter away when with Madison.

Me: "Do you see that outfit in the window? Do you like it? Which color? Pink? Blue?"

Me: "The weather is nippy so let's pull out the long sleeve shirts today."

Me: "Do you want a bath now or do you want to wait for Daddy?"

By the time Madison was talking she was full of questions. She asked, why. She asked what things were or who did what, and I always told her, constantly teaching. her things asking, I never second-guessed my early one-sided conversations with her.

This morning while walking the dog I noticed I do the same with Elliot. I ask him questions and when he stops and tilts his head at something I explain what it is. For example, this morning we passed a neighbor removing blankets off his shrubs. We exchanged good mornings and several comments regarding the cool weather, and as Elliot sat and stared I explained:

Me: "He covered his shrubs to protect them from the cold just like Auntie Bonnie did with her bushes and shrubs. Now, he's taking them off to feel the sun. Come on, let's see who else covered their trees."

I could feel the neighbor's eyes on me as we continued down the street, Elliot prancing and me pointing out other covered bushes and commenting on them aloud to my dog. I just know he was rolling his eyes or perhaps wondering where I lived in his neighborhood so he could avoid the area.

To me, this dog is like having another child. I sort of suspected it would be, but I didn't realize how VERY much it would resemble it. Now that I've figured it out, I treat the dog the same way I treated my children. I talked to both of them from the moment they were born so I'm talking to the dog. 

People may think I'm nuts, but the way I see it is...hey, at least I'm not an old lady talking to my cat! (Sorry Kelly)

Ten random thoughts for today

• When Florida's weather is in the '60s with fog and rain it puts one in a mood to get ready for Christmas. Today it is 83 and the sun shining brightly through my windows is causing my air conditioner to run frequently. I haven't even bothered to turn on my tree.

• Cleaning dog urine out of my carpet is getting old.

• I think it would benefit the Indianapolis Colts and the New Orlean Saints to lose before the playoffs begin.

• How come SAHM's don't receive Christmas bonuses?

• If I clean the windows in my house, will my company even notice the weird stripes of different colored paint adorning the outside of my house because these remodeling projects will not be done prior to the holidays?

• If Elliot's tongue is hanging out now and he is panting at this weather, what will he do in the summer?

• How can drinking alcohol nightly not be good for you? Especially during the holidays?

• If I get a new flat-screen TV, will the Steelers start winning on it?

• Tiger Woods better get his wife a REALLY nice Christmas gift.

• Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat and I'm not ready. But it's okay because we are having turkey.

Monday Sports Shorts

1. Tiger Woods' car accident - Yeah, yeah, we know all about you wanting privacy. You and Sarah Palin. Too bad. You chose to put yourself out there. You are fair game whether it is fair or not. Do what David Letterman did...' fess up. The more you try to keep quiet the more the media is going to speculate. Letterman nipped his in the bud. We don't hear about his naughtiness anymore. Tell the truth and by the time you win your next tournament, this accident will be old news.
2. Ben Roethlisberger's concussion and dissension in the Steelers' locker room - The bottom line here is that the decision to not play was last minute. I was disappointed so I can imagine how the rest of his team felt when he had practiced all week long without any repercussions. Hines Ward's comments were emotional, and I understand that, but do I excuse it? Not at all. This is your leader and your teammate. A leader and mate who helped lead you to two Super Bowl Championships. You think Roethlisberger was a baby? You think you would have played? Lied even to the doctors? Not really the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree then Ward, especially since the NFL admitted they have dropped the ball on players with head injuries. You think any doctor was going to take a chance after the NFL agreed to crack down on players with concussions? Think Ben wants to end up like Mike Webster? And seriously, if you were so pissed at the situation then you should have gone out, channeled that anger into play, and kicked some Raven ass. Hey, I don't recall seeing you on the list of top 5 receivers for Sunday. As for Mike Tomlin, he too needs to take responsibility for not talking to the players before the game and explaining the situation. All of you need to come together, get your head in the game, make nice and get out there and show the world that you are the Pittsburgh Steelers, six-time World Champs!
3. Florida State's Bobby Bowden retiring - A sad way for a great coach and contributor to Florida State to have to go out. Boo to those who gave him the "lifetime" job. Boo to booster, Smith, for his loud mouth and comments. Now Bowden's retiring just feels like it wasn't his decision and it is tarnished. Not the way it should be for one of the greats.

Weighing in...

1. ...on Bill Belichick's call on 4th and 2 during the Patriots game with Indianapolis - Despite the fact that I think Belichick believed it was 4th and 1, I don't think his call was stupid at all. He was playing against Peyton Manning with 2:08 still left on the clock...enough said.
2. ...on the plumeria sticks stuck in our yard - I was wrong on that one. Those things are growing quite nicely.
3. ...on the NASCAR debate regarding Jimmie Johnson - The man won 4 straight Chase Championships. It doesn't matter how you feel about the points system. The man is the King of NASCAR and belongs on the list of great athletes.
4. ...on Charlie Weis and Notre Dame - Notre Dame likes winners. Weis hasn't delivered that. Teams love to fire the coach when the team isn't winning. Well, except for the Pittsburgh Steelers, six-time Super Bowl Champs, three coaches, two retired not fired. Wonder when other teams will catch on?
5. ...on the Steelers slide - Troy Polamalu hurt. Ben with a concussion. Back-up Batch out with a wrist injury. The season isn't over yet.

3 things running through my head....

1. Michael Jordan's son can't follow the rules? Wears Nike Air Jordan shoes to his UCF basketball game instead of the school-sponsored Adidas shoes the rest of the team wears? Shame on him. Shame on the school. Shame on Michael Jordan!
2. Could people please check the email information before they forward it to others? I'm tired of being warned for such n' such or this n' that when the information is BOGUS. People, check the information by going here. It's a great site for knowing whether something is true to pass onward. 
3. Enough already of athletes wanting to play hurt. Stay home Ryan Clark! No need to travel to Denver with your sickle cell disease. The Steelers will win one for ya.

What to do? What to do?

Today while putting away recently purchased groceries, my electricity went off. Poof! Gone! One minute the light inside my refrigerator was burning bright. The next it was pitch black inside there and I was wondering what was up.

Immediately beeping noises, each at different intervals, began making noise throughout my house. All of our major appliances such as computers and televisions are attached to back up battery packs and they alert us with incessant beeping to let us know when there is a power failure.

Because standing in the dark isn't a big enough clue.

I went outside as if all my neighbors would be waiting there to discuss the situation. No one was in sight so I hiked through the itchy grass to my next-door neighbor. He wasn't there and his dog, Penny, wouldn't stop barking long enough to hear me ask her if her power was out.

I continued on to the next neighbor whose dog joined Penny in the barking. Eventually, my neighbor came to the door. When asked if she had any electricity, she leaned inside the door and flipped her light switch. Nothing happened. We agreed to both call the power company and bombard them with inquires.

I trooped back home, picked up my cordless phone and headed into the office to look up the number to the power company on my computer. Oops.

What was I thinking? For a minute I was stumped. How would I find the number to the power company if my computer wasn't accessible?

Then I remembered that years ago we used to look up phone numbers in a free book that was delivered to our door called the phone book. Duh.

I found the phone book and the number, and then I tried to dial it. Nothing happened.

Oh, yeah. No electricity meant no power to my landline. I called from my cell phone and got through to the company's computer-generated voice who assured me it was a problem in my neighborhood and not a delinquent payment. Uh-huh.

I was instructed to push this number and type in that number and while punching in said numbers and listening to the beep, beep, beeping of the computer accessing accounts, my cell phone died. I had not charged it last night and apparently the phone chat I had this morning killed the rest of what battery I did have. Now, it was totally useless. D-E-A-D dead.

I was hopeful that I wouldn't need to get a hold of anyone since all the numbers of everyone I know are buried either in that cell phone or on my computer.

I sat and wondered what in the world I was going to do. I had not had my morning coffee nor breakfast. I had bought some croissants that morning and had envisioned a leisurely breakfast of warm croissants with cream cheese and peppermint coffee. I had planned on eating and then on packing for my weekend visit to Disney.

Now, I couldn't even complete that simple task because my travel list was on the computer. I couldn't harvest my crops. I looked to my right and spotted the pile of library books I had gotten yesterday. 

Ah. I could read using the sun shining into my windows as my light. Instead, I ate a cold croissant, drank some water, and sat down at my desk to write in freehand a list of the things I should do and have to better prepare myself for when the power is out next time.

What the hell?

• For the past 15 years, my garbage pick-up has been on Mondays and Thursdays. Now for some reason, they have changed it to Tuesdays and Fridays. WTH?


• How can someone have so many forwarded joke/junk emails daily? And why do they feel the need to forward it to me? WTH?


• Going out of turn at a four-way stop. My pet-peeve. Seriously? It isn't that hard, WTH?


• My 5th-grade daughter and three other kids don't have math books at school because they don't have enough books for everyone. WTH? At a private school!


• My husband wants a dog. Not just a dog, but a puppy! WTH?


• The tendon in my right arm is sore from farming...virtually. WTH?


• The Pittsburgh Steelers, the champs of 6 super bowls, are 1-3. WTH?


• I cashed a check for my ten-year-old and told her she could have the money after she wrote a letter thanking the person who gave her the check. Now I don't know what I did with the bank envelope full of money. WTH?


• I pack lunches each morning, but the girls can't seem to clean the bags out after school. WTH?


• I'm utterly exhausted during the day, but can't seem to sleep at night. WTH?


• My crockpot burned my pot roast while on low for 8 hours. WTH?
  
  
• But...this rainbow appeared out of nowhere and I'm taking it as a sign that things will soon be better and more to my liking! 

It ain't easy

Since I haven't been working out regularly since April, weight has appeared on my large frame and before I head off for another vacation in less than two weeks I've been trying to diet. This is never easy, but I figured I would start by getting my fat butt back to the gym.

Tom awoke me Monday morning at 7:21 AM to say good-bye for the day so I hopped right up, washed my face, got on my workout clothes, and was out the door by 7:45. I got to the gym with my eyes still squinted from the early morning sun and jumped on to the elliptical for my normal 30-minute routine.

That is when I realized I forgot my IPod. That is what happens when you have been out of touch with the gym. Instead, I sucked it up and read the closed caption on the CNN channel that I could see from my angle on the elliptical. At about 10 minutes I thought for sure it had been at least 20 minutes.

By the time 30 minutes rolled around my knees were aching, but I wasn't huffing and puffing like I was each time I had to go downstairs in Susan's basement to get something from the guest room or when I had to go upstairs in Susan's house to take a shower. No, I was slightly limping as I made my way to the stationary bike, but my breathing was good.

I got on the bike, turned on the fan and started pumping. I opened my book and started reading to pass the time as I had exhausted the closed captioning. I came to a part where the main character breaks into a house with a hidden key. The next four paragraphs went into detail about how easy it was to break into a house, and suddenly I thought about someone breaking into my house while my children were sound asleep and I was at the gym.

I began picturing the creep standing in my house. How scared my poor children would be. I got so consumed with worry I started sweating from the sheer horror I was imagining, and I peddled faster as if I were headed their way.

When the 30 minutes ended I was off the bike, out the door, and into my car faster then I had used either piece of equipment.

The girls were still asleep safe in their beds when I returned, but the whole experience has made me decide the gym will have to wait until the girls go back to school. The worry today caused more stress that will lead to health problems than my being overweight.

I'll eat better food and lay off the sweets. You can find my success to the right of this blog...

I'm not sure I need to see the light

When we first moved into our house there was a slab of concrete right outside the garage door leading into the back yard. The only time I remember using that slab was at the party we threw ourselves right after we got married and the time my nephew visited me on the 4th of July and I taught him how to spit out watermelon seeds.

After Madison was born we decided to take out the slab and replace it with a screened-in porch. We built another, bigger, slab and covered the porch with a roof. We put down indoor carpet, bought wicker furniture with real cushions, and installed a ceiling fan. One of Madison's hand me down cribs went out there, and she and I would take little naps listening to the rain on the roof or the wind sounding through the trees. When Madison got older she would play out on the porch in her little hand me down playhouse. I loved having an area with light as the inside of our house was quite dark by Floridian standards. The only problem we encountered was during the summer months when our fun would only last twenty minutes before Madison's cheeks were red and her hair wet from sweat.

When I got pregnant with Darcy we talked about adding on some room for our growing family. We contemplated an upper level but dismissed that at the thought of our electric bill in cooler an second story. We talked about enclosing the garage and building another garage in front of it, using the old garage for a new room. Each time we thought up a new plan we would shake our heads and go back to enclosing in our screened-in porch. My big no to doing that was the loss of all the light. But when it came down to that being our logical reality Tom promised to put in lots of windows to let in much-needed sunlight.

The new room was finished before Darcy was born. There were three windows on the wall facing our neighbors, four windows on the wall facing our backyard, and one window on the only spot that didn't lead into our house. The last wall was against our garage and thus was windowless. I was thrilled with all the sunlight that poured into the room, and never really worried about covering them. We called the new room the playroom, but it also housed our office and a seating area, as well as a place for all of Madison's toys.

Darcy came along then and the uncovered windows exposed quite a bit of us to those neighbors who chose to look. I had to pump my breast milk because of Darcy's sucking problems and the area we set up for that let everyone into our world. I didn't care at the time because I was sleep-deprived and stressed from the frequent attempts at latching the kid. Later after that problem was solved, I enjoyed the sunlight streaming in the windows as Madison played and Darcy cooed on the floor. Eventually, summer rolled around again and with it came the unbearable heat against the glass and soon Madison's hair was wet and Darcy's little cheeks were red.

We looked at different window coverings. We thought about curtains, but the fact that we would have to practically cover two entire walls with material made us leery. We eventually settled on wooden blinds and ordered them to match our different sized windows. When they arrived Tom put them in himself, and I was quite relieved to know that I could now pick my nose in private away from my neighbors prying eyes. The blinds were a hit and we were quite pleased.

That is until I realized they attracted dust ON BOTH SIDES OF THE SLATS. While they did hide our dirty windows, the sun beaming through those slats showed up quite a bit of dust. I tried using a dust cloth. I tried using a damp paper towel. I thought about bringing in the hose from outside, but the thought of smelling wet carpet for days put me off. I finally used a combination of dusting and Clorox wipes. The process took hours and usually days. That was when I decided that being in that room was more enjoyable at night, and keeping the blinds closed during the day saved on our electric bill.

A couple of months ago while Madison was home sick and lying on the couch in the playroom watching TV I decided to keep an eye on her by washing the blinds. I started at the wall leading into the backyard and worked my way around. After each blind was cleaned I would open it and let the sun shine in. By the time I was finished Madison was cured and back in school, and I was hooked on sunshine again.

Tonight as I sat typing at my computer I realized I was probably terrorizing my neighbor with the faces I was making so I stood up to close the blind. I leaned forward over my desk, reached up to twirl the stick to close the slats and there attached to the inside of the slats was a layer of dust.

Horrified, I moved my eyes to the blind next door and then to the next blind and the next blind and the next until I had completely turned around in a circle to stare at all eight blinds full of dust that I had just cleaned two months ago. And I thought to myself, "Who the hell thought all of these windows was a good idea?"

Hooked on Hollywood

Since summer started, and now that I'm home and on the computer more, I find that I have gotten caught up in the lives of Hollywood's celebrities. I have read about them in magazines. I have googled them on the Internet. Now I'm about to blog about them.

• Farrah Fawcett - I'm starting with Farrah because even her death was usurped yesterday. I have been keeping tabs on her story through the Today Show and the Internet. I plan on catching the rebroadcast of her documentary, Farrah's Story, tonight on NBC. She was an icon of my generation. My brother had her famous poster on his bedroom wall. Girls in school were getting their hair done Farrah style with the feathering. My friends and I role-played Charlie's Angels, all of us fighting to be Farrah or Jacklyn Smith. She was married to my Big Valley hero, Lee Majors, and we used to fantasize a lot about their life together. Despite her traitorous walk off of Charlie Angels, I followed her life as we aged and cheered her when she finally got the accolades she deserved through television movies like The Burning Bed. I'm sorry that her life ended and especially sorry that she couldn't just have had her own tribute yesterday and today.

• Michael Jackson - The death of Michael Jackson was shocking to me. I knew Farrah was near the end and so her death wasn't unexpected, but the King of Pop? Shocking. I hadn't heard it before picking up the girls at swim team practice so I just stood there on the pool deck taking it all in when informed. I spent last night, early morning, and most of today channel surfing from station to station watching all the footage they offered. For my generation, this is Elvis dying. He was a Hoosier. I grew up listening to the Jackson 5 and later buying Michael's albums as he stood out on his own. I can still remember waiting for the premiere of his Thriller video on MTV, and then just sitting there in shock at the sheer audacity of it. He was truly one of a kind. He had a genius about him, pulled from his childlike mind. I blame his family and those around him for not protecting him more. Today the abuse he suffered throughout his family and entertainment life wouldn't be tolerated but back then I think everyone turned a blind eye. He had so many problems as an adult, although frankly, I don't think the kid every grew up.

• The Gosselin Family - The first time I saw the show Jon & Kate Plus 8 was in April. I was channel surfing during the daytime looking for something to watch while I ironed. I came upon this show and spent the entire time ironing with my mouth wide open. For some odd reason, I really thought this woman had given birth to these six children naturally, without drug influence. I couldn't believe how exhausted I was watching them get these children ready for church and a day in the park. At the time I thought the couple was odd. Their interviews on the sofa were interesting. She seemed very controlling and very much the one in charge. He leaned away from her and seemed very passive and whiny, yet he too had a controlling side. I never saw the show again until last week when I watched the episode where they claimed to be separating. I feel really terrible for the children. They didn't ask for this reality television life. Yet I like to think that the parents did it for them. You want to help your children have a better life and, let's face it, money can make life better, and reality TV brings in lots of money. Somewhere along the line the yearn for money and a better life got in the way of raising children, and that to me is the sad part. Yet I can't stop reading about these people.