Blast from the Past

I know it's been a very long time.  Don't give up on me, I've just been lazy.

Here is a cute blast from the past my sister-in-law sent me.  It was an old e-mail I had sent her in 2007.  Jay and I have laughed and reminisced reading this.  We can just hear our little bud saying this, using his hands and all animated...like his grandpa, the Quackdaddy.

FYI - Lyla, is our niece.  She and Lane are only ten days apart and have always been pretty close.  In 2007, Lane and Lyla would've been three-and-a-half and Madolyn would have been seven.

I had a bunch of pictures out last night and Lane was
going through them.   He pulled out a picture of he
and Lyla and he said, "She's so pretty."  I said "Is
that your girlfriend?"  "Yeah, she's pretty."    

Last week or so he was telling Madolyn that Lyla was
his girlfriend.  She was arguing with him saying she
could not be.  He said he would marry her.  He got
frustrated and with that shake and tilt of his head, he
says, "I gonna marry her on my tractor."  Madolyn says,
"You can't marry her on a tractor, you have to be in a
church.  He says "I'll drive my tractor to the church
and marry Lyla."  

I have read this a couple times.  As I said before, I can just hear and see him saying these things.  A while back, Lane found the video camera and we watched a bunch of home videos.  Sadly, we don't really take them anymore because we have the phones and iPad, etc.  Watching those videos makes you realize how fast time does pass...and how cute your ornery kids once were.

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas.  Enjoy those little ones and even the older, sometimes grumpy ones :)

#5, RIP Sweet Abby

A few weeks ago Abby acted really weird for about 36 hours.  We were worried at first, but she perked up and we thought she must have gotten into something bad for her tummy and was fine.  Last weekend, she started acting funny again and she didn't recuperate like before.

We have, at times, been annoyed with Abby because of her extreme loyalty, myself especially.  The common dog phrase, "Faithful Companion," best describes Abby.  She was at my side if I was outside, always.

Every single time I headed out on a big walk, she was jumping at my feet ready to go, and then would proceed to literally walk on my feet, at times even causing me to trip or stumble. Quite frankly, with my clumsiness and her attached-to-my-ankle notion, I am surprised I have never fallen and hurt myself.

Just this past year or so, Jay noticed something kind of neat about #5.  Abby would stay between me and whatever might try to come near me on a walk.  If another dog would start to come my way, she would move in.  If Jay and I tried to switch places to trick her, she would move too.  She was my fearless protector...annoying as it would sometimes be.

This past year, she got to where she would not get up as quickly as she used to, she had sort of a glaze to her eyes and we wondered if she could even see or hear.  I got to calling her granny because she hobbled around like an old lady, somewhat deaf and blind.  She has been good for Hank the Tank II though because she stopped running around and kind of keeps Hank home, for the most part.  (Hank isn't too brave on his own.)

We have no idea what her ailment is, but as a family, we all agreed there was no reason to prolong her suffering.  I am thankful that she didn't wander off and die as some dogs like to do...although that might have been easier on Jay, who had the daunting task of taking her to the vet this morning.

Farewell, my faithful companion - the longest living dog we have ever had - you certainly won't be alone in Wilhoit dog heaven.

Wish I had known that guy...

Last week my dad's first cousin's husband had a massive stroke and died.  His name was Gary and he was a character.  I attended his funeral on Sunday and the whole time I sat there thinking, gosh, I missed out, I wish I had know that guy.

I knew Gary, as much as I could know someone I see once or twice a year.  Most of my memories of him are from long ago.  But every single memory I have of him is a good one.

Here is what I did know about Gary.  He was super funny, he was successful, he was family and he was a die-hard Illini fan.  Any time I was ever around Gary, he was laughing and carrying on and you could not help but get sucked in.  Gary was a successful insurance agent and owned his own agency. Gary was family...albeit a little distant to me, he always knew who I was and took the time to speak to me and act interested in me and my life.  You could not know Gary and not know that he was a completely obsessed and very dedicated Illini fan.  I remember their old van...because it was painted in Illini colors and something you just didn't forget.

When we were kids, he let us fair rats (cousins) run a lemonade stand outside the secretary's office. Looking back, it was probably to keep us out of the secretary office, but it was so much fun...and it did keep us occupied for a while.

So what do I mean when I say I wish I known him?  When I heard he had died, I immediately thought of his daughter, LeeAnn, who had passed away in a car accident in 2004 and I hoped they were having the biggest reunion ever at the gates of Heaven.  And then I wondered, was Gary a Christian? I had no idea.  It bothered me, until I read his obituary and learned he was a very active member in his local church.  Praise the Lord.

I then read some tributes and newspaper articles that had been written about his passing and the life he had led, and boy, did he do life BIG.  He was very, very active in not only his church but his community, his county, his country and his family.  He served in Vietnam, was on the county board of his large county and active in various community committees and clubs.  He was a super FUN guy who didn't know a stranger.  His daughter, Amy, talked a lot about him being the high school Sunday School teacher at their church and how important that was to him.  She also said that no matter how late Saturday night's tailgate at the Illini game went, they were at church on Sunday morning.

I was so enamored by all these wonderful things that I never knew about this guy that I really liked but didn't really know.

Just a few weeks ago I saw him at a cousin's wedding.  I was getting ready to leave and he called me over to his table...with that great big grin that he always wore.  We exchanged the usual pleasantries and then he told everyone at the table with him about what I had written and read at my grandma's funeral, how much he loved it, etc.  A few weeks after my grandma's funeral, he either Facebooked or emailed me and wanted to know if I had a copy of what I had read at the funeral.  I had recorded it ahead of time, but could not figure out how to send the recording so I emailed him the written version of it.  I'm not sure why, but he really got a kick out of that reading.  He told me the day of her funeral and again two years later.  He remembered that little thing about me.

I am sad for Gary's wife, daughter, and grandsons because I know they will miss him dearly.  From the way it sounds, his death is truly everyone's loss.  I missed out myself.

I sure wish I had known that guy better...

I change my mind...a lot

I'm not going to sugarcoat this - I do not care for tattoos.  Period.  I do not like them, Sam I am.  Plain and simple.  I'm not mad at people for getting them, but honestly, I always cringe when I see a young person who has just taken the plunge and gotten one.  And here is why...

I change my mind...a lot.

Thinking back to my teen years, I was obsessed with a couple different things.  First and foremost, the Beatles. I loved the Fab Four dearly.  My room reflected it.  I had Beatles memorabilia all over my bedroom.  To this day, I still have my Beatles Beach towel. (I have finally let it be used for its intended purpose, [gulp] and it now has a hole in it.)  I had an alarm clock, pictures, books, etc.  I loved the Beatles and I loved the Peace sign.

Before the Beatles craze hit me, I loved the comic strip The Far Side.  Loved it.  I had one of those daily calendars and every single day, I would rip off a new comic and tape it to my wall.  One year = 365 comics.  (Man, my parents must have loved me.)  I also had all kinds of Gary Larson books.

And somewhere in the middle of the Beatles and the Far Side infatuation, I fell in love with Trolls.  You know what I'm talking about?  The little plastic naked men with bright neon hair that stuck out every which way. They came in all different sizes and outfits.  I had gobs of them.  Trolls were everywhere.

Stretching even farther back before the Beatles, the Far Side and the Trolls obsessions, I loved teddy bears.  There were 101 teddy bears stenciled all over my walls, in country blue...with rose curtains.  I had a couple shelves full of my collection of teddy bears.  I treasured my bears.

So when I was at my prime tattoo age, I can imagine that if I had decided to get a tattoo, I might have gotten a peace sign and/or some sort of reference to the Beatles.  "All you need is love" or "Let it be" come to mind.  I can't imagine that I would've gotten Ringo Star's face tattooed onto my arm, but you never know.  I really loved the Fab Four.

I still like Beatles music.  If I came across the Far Side comic strip, I am positive, I would crack up laughing and immediately recall why I loved them so much.  Trolls make me laugh...just because I was so obsessed with them and they're so freaky.  (I'm thanking the Lord right now I do not have a troll tattooed on my body.)  Teddy Bears...are cute and cuddly and it's not that I don't like them anymore, but I'm not sure I would feel too mature with a giant teddy bear on the calf of my leg.

A Christian comedian I went to see made this comment about tattoos.  His analogy cracked me up (in my words)...That bass (fish) you had tattooed on your belly will someday transform into a great white whale.

Seriously, yes.  Our bodies change.

Our likes and interests change.

The most poignant factor in my decision never to get a tattoo was Jay's Grandpa Truman...he begged both of us to never get a tattoo and showed us why.  It wasn't quite the bass-to-whale transformation but it left an impression, let me tell you.

And to be frank, I'm not a fan of pain or needles.

I know there are all sorts of Christians that have crosses and scripture and other signs of their faith tattooed all over their bodies.  I'm not sure if that is used as justification or what.  To me, it doesn't matter.  I may offend people for this, but there are lots of people who wear crosses in some or fashion and do not believe in Jesus Christ.  You having a cross or fish tattoo doesn't necessarily convince me you're a believer.  Just like wearing a Christian t-shirt doesn't necessarily confirm my Christianity.

My dislike of tattoos doesn't have anything to do with whether you're a good person or a crazed lunatic.  I'm not mad at you if you have a tattoo or twenty.  I'm just curious about what young people will think in 10 or 15 years about their choice of body art.

My point is this:  I would be mortified - and probably spending lots of money right now to remove it - if I had a tattoo of Ringo Star on my arm.

Before getting that tat, go back ten, fifteen or twenty years and think about something you just loved and now don't really give much thought. (It might even be a person!)  Now imagine a picture of that 'thing' permanently on your body...

Right

I'm assistant coach for my son's summer league baseball team.  I have enjoyed it thoroughly.  We have a great group of boys and we've had a good season.  My task is to keep the boys in the dugout in line and the book.  I really like keeping the book and it gives me some purpose.  It also helps me focus and not yell so much :)

The other night we played a team we had not played before.  They were good competition.  We were having to dig deep within, which is good.  There wasn't another dad to help out so I also stood at first base giving my two cents to the boys when we were up...and kept the book.  (I probably need a little more practice at doing those two things at once!)

Anyway, in the second inning I noticed the score board had the other team up one run.  Young kids run the board and I'm glad they do, I figured I would correct them but let it go too long.  Middle of the third inning, when it was our turn to bat (and we would be batting last), the coaches realized our scores were off.  Our head coach asked me to go over and compare our books with theirs to get the correct score.  (It was important at this point, we were down three or four runs and this was the last bat.)

I headed over with the book, feeling confident about my work, but with an open mind (of course).  I could easily have made a mistake, especially when I was coaching at first base.

I  knew it wasn't going to go well when the lady keeping their book all but threw her book in my face and said, "Here, check it."  I was thinking we would check it together...She didn't keep her book like mine and I had a hard time making heads or tails of her markings.  I counted twice and came up with fewer runs than what she said.  When the fella came over to look, I realized (DUH!) that I was looking at our teams page and not their team.  There went my credibility.  Goodness.

But even when looking at the correct page in my book and comparing to hers, it did not match. Suddenly, the discrepancy caught my eye.  Their third out was the runner on third getting thrown out at home.  She had the two runners AFTER that runner scoring.  There is no way that could've happened...

As I was getting ready to explain this, there was a 'bad' call on the field in our favor and they went wild.  I didn't see what happened, but there had been a couple close calls earlier (again, in our favor) and these folks were HOT.   Part of me wanted to stay right in there and argue with these coaches about the last out and how their runners could not have possibly scored.  I assume my book was correct.  We were the home team.  

And frankly, I love to win.

And then I decided I didn't want to get punched, so I walked away and headed back to our team without really coming to a conclusion on the correct score.

Our fans asked me on the way back what the score was and I told them we disagreed by one run on their score.  As we went through that final bat, I was asked a couple times what the score was.  Again, I reiterated the score I thought was correct, according to my score keeping.

But as I thought about this later on, it occurred to me, I really need to be more concerned with doing right rather than being right.

These boys are watching me.  Parents are watching me.  Strangers are watching me.  God is watching me.

I don't want this team to get ticked at our summer league program and not come back.  It wasn't anything personal from my standpoint, as far as the score keeping, I was sincerely trying to figure out the discrepancy and see if I was wrong...and get it right.

Isn't that the way life is though...we get so wrapped up in being right that we forget to do what is right. I should...Do the right thing even though I may feel cheated.  Do the right thing even though it wasn't what I had in mind.  Do the right thing even if I may get in trouble. Do the right thing even if I might lose...

We ended up winning the game anyway - by one run according to them, two according to me (Ahh, can I really let it go?)

But I walked away with a new tidbit - I would rather do right than be right.

It kind of goes along with one of my favorite verses:  For it is better, if it is the will of God, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil.               1 Peter 3:17 (NKJV)

The transition

People have often said I say or do things just like my grandma did...but it's getting worse than that...much worse.  I'm afraid I'm starting to sound like the Quackdaddy.  Last night was another perfect example.

We went to Dairy Queen after Lane's ball game and were in the drive-up.  I was driving so I placed the order and all I wanted was a child-sized chocolate cone.  Very simple.  Nothing you have to mix or chop.  So easy...except they didn't have any chocolate ice cream.  I am not a fan of vanilla ice cream so when they are out of chocolate, I'm at a loss.  (Insert Jay laughing here because this happens all the time and he finds it funny.)

We pull around and she opens up the window.  I ask her why they do not have chocolate ice cream and tell her that the Marshall DQ has chocolate ice cream all the time and it's very good (as if that will change her mind about whether or not they have chocolate ice cream).  She looks at me like "what am I supposed to do?" and shuts the window...probably cussing me to her coworkers.  Apparently at this DQ, they clean the machine every Monday night.  I will have to remember that.

As soon as she shut the window, I looked at my family and said, "I sounded like the Quack just then, didn't I?" Uh-huh.

Because I could just hear him...The Quackdaddy has this thing about hot, fresh coffee.  If the waitress can't guarantee it's hot, fresh coffee, he doesn't want it.  He asks repeatedly if she knows whether it is hot and fresh. Everywhere he orders coffee, this is the spiel, and he keeps track of which places have hot, fresh coffee.

A month or so ago after we were at a softball game in a nearby town.  There was a very controversial call (in our favor) and the opposing coach was livid which earned him a seat in the dugout for the remainder of the game.  I couldn't for the life of me understand what had just happened and no one around us really seemed to know.

After the game we went to a cafe up the road for supper and that coach and his family and another family came in.  After we finished eating, I told my crew that I was going to go ask that coach what the deal was with that call.  They all but begged me not to and high-tailed it to the car when I headed over to his table.  I had a nice little chat with the coach and the rest of his table, got the low-down on the peculiar call and was sure to tell them that my family was hiding in the car embarrassed of me.

I can pretty much talk to a brick wall.  I don't see a problem in it as long as I'm not being rude or obnoxious (which almost never happens...I think).  I always feel the need to explain myself or offer more detail than necessary in certain situations, and I enjoy striking up conversations with complete strangers.

It's inevitable.  The transition is taking place.  I'm becoming the Quackdaddy...

Our bundles of joy

I mentioned that Boots, our sweet kitty, had five precious kittens on my birthday.  That was four weeks ago yesterday.  Those baby kittens are absolutely adorable and we are having so much fun playing with them.

The first couple of weeks they are pretty boring.  They don't have their eyes open, they pretty much sleep and eat and that's about it.  Then their eyes opened and they wobbled around a bit.  Now they are learning to walk, run, play, climb, fight and explore.  And it's so fun!

Even though Jay had arranged a box with a towel in the back of our closet for Boots, she decided a much better birth place would be up inside the box springs of Lane's bed.  That black material that lines the underneath of the box springs had a couple tears in it...just big enough for Boots to crawl up in there and bed down.  Boots is so noisy though, Lane quickly discovered her hiding place.  It was so hard to see up in there and even harder to leave her alone until she was done.  For the longest time we thought there were only four kittens, but when we finally moved them, we found five.  We were so excited!

After a few attempts to relocate the babies, Boots finally adjusted to the closet and left the babies alone...until it was time to move again.  Someone suggested a small kiddie pool...hmm, great idea.  Only afterwards did I think about the play on words there...kitty pool...ha!  We lined the bottom of the pool with towels and put their box in it.  (Later, Lane cut 'doors' in the original box lid and flipped it upside down to make them a little house.)  The kittens didn't mind the big move, but Boots sure did. Again, she tried to relocate her babies a couple times, but eventually accepted the upgrade.

  Another week has passed and the little felines have figured out how to escape the pool walls...so they are sort of roaming free at this point.  They have their towel and box in the corner of the living room and they always return to it.  I'm figuring out Plan B as we speak.  As of now, they do not use the bathroom on their own and Boots is the cleanup lady, but soon they will be...and they are not going to be free to pee wherever they be.  (ha)

I think we have homes for all of the kittens.  I have a feeling it's going to be a struggle to actually let go of these cuties.  Everyone loves them...except Josie.  Aunt Jo is like that mean 'ole aunt who sits back and watches everything without saying anything - only giving the evil eye.  Every now and then she creeps up behind one of them and gives them a good sniff, but she is none to happy about their presence.

Last night one of them crawled over Hank the Tank II's foot and he hardly noticed.  He is un-phased by most things...a small creature seems to be one of them.  Abby, on the other hand, has to be watched.  She would eat one without a moment's hesitation.

This little guy is by far the favorite of the bunch.  We call him Stripes.  He is kind of a big bully, but we love his personality.  He is outgoing and on the move...and how can you resist those sweet baby blue eyes?

We have enjoyed many babies on our little farm over the past decade (goats, chickens, puppies, piglets) but these kittens have been, by far, the most fun.  I intend on having Boots fixed after these babies are weaned because it is the right thing to do, but goodness, the thought of never having kittens again is downright depressing.  They are so dang cute...right now.

Driving Miss Daisy

Yesterday was the second Thursday of the month...that may mean many things to you folks, but here at the courthouse that is Secretary of State day, from 10am-2pm.  I went downstairs to get postage on some mail and I saw the row of chairs full of senior citizens, patiently waiting for their turn to take their driving test.  I couldn't help but think of my grandma.

The last few years she held her driver's license I brought her for the test a couples times.  She always insisted she come here to take it, where she was comfortable.  I completely understood then and still do.  It's obviously a common theme because we have people lining up downstairs by 8:30 or 9:00 on the second Thursday of the month to get a jump on the crowd...and the majority of that crowd are 75+ years old, just guessing.

The secret is to hang out until about 1:00, then pop in.  No one is waiting.  I had to renew some stickers yesterday and walked right in at 1:25, paid and received the stickers in about two minutes.  It was great.  I even commented on the large crowd of seniors and talked about my grandma.  "She always drove a truck and she talked a lot."  You could see the look of recognition in their grin.  Yep, I think they remember her too...

The times I remember bringing her, it was much like her doctor appointments - lots of chatting and loud laughing.  I now wonder if that wasn't a clever distraction.  She was always so nervous about the test, maybe she was trying to butter up the folks administering it!  I must admit, I was also nervous about her passing the driving portion (I certainly didn't want to be the one driving her home upset) or hitting someone else in the process.

I think she did have trouble one year when she was unable to make it over here on the second Thursday and had to go elsewhere, but in the end she walked away with a driver's license.  I want to say she tested at least until she was 91 or maybe 92, but I could be wrong.

So Grandma was on my mind a lot yesterday.  As I drove home, one of her quirky sayings popped into my head.  It was one I had not thought of forever and I didn't include in my little tribute to her at her funeral.  It shocks me that I didn't remember it because as I repeat it over and over, I can hear her say it just like she was sitting beside me..."Well, I de - clare" (insert loud cackle here and/or maybe a knee slap).

You can hear it too, can't you?

Honesty - the best policy

Whoever walks in integrity will be delivered, but he who is crooked in his ways will suddenly fall.       Proverbs 28:18 (ESV)

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.               Galatians 6:9 (ESV)

Honesty is the best policy - I heard that phrase no less than 1000 times come out of my father's mouth growing up.  Honesty/truthfulness are essential to our character and integrity.

Sometimes being honesty is tricky.  Little white lies like saying you love some one's outfit or hair when truly you don't like it all slip at without thought.  Or how about accidentally telling the truth without realizing that someone else is hoping you won't. (Think childhood!)

I'm a terrible liar.  Always have been and so are my children.  My kids get a look on their face that shouts, "I'm fibbing," even though they may persist in their tall tale.  I can remember a year or two ago, Jay and I got so mad at them because no one would confess to spray painting red paint on the wall in the shed.  They had been asked to spray paint a farrowing crate and were to do it in the shed. What we didn't say was, "Hey, while you're at it, spray wherever you want."  Somehow, red spray paint magically appeared on the wall.  It isn't a huge deal, except that neither one of them would just admit to the truth.

It was so frustrating.  When you're going to get in trouble anyway, why not just tell the truth?  It's a tough theme to get through their heads sometimes.  We know something happened, just tell us and tell us the truth.  Ahh.  I don't expect it will get any easier the older they get.  And they're not chronic liars by any means, but every now and then...

Sometimes telling the truth is painful.  A few weeks ago a young man I know told the truth about something he participated in and was punished for it.  Regardless of the situation, he did the right thing by telling the truth.  I could go on and on about various aspects of the situation, but I won't because I don't necessarily know all the facts, and in the end that isn't what is important.  What I do know is this - that young man will be blessed in the future for his honesty.  God will reward him some day in some way for doing what was right in the middle of something messy.  And I'm guessing that although many will forget about that incident, he will not.

I would be lying (ha) if I said I had never told a lie (s), big and little.  It's not necessarily something I struggle with at this point in my life, nor do I really remember struggling with it much at all.  For the most part, honesty has been ingrained into my brain...by Godly influences, my parents, my conscience.

When in doubt - just spit it out...the truth, that is.

Flash & Chip

I forgot to update you on our guinea pig farm.

After Clovis bit the dust, I promised Lane I would purchase him a new pig and get it at the 'other' pet store.  He trusted me to go alone and when I got there, I called him to describe what I saw.  What I saw were no less than 20 guinea pigs zipping around a large cage.  They were everywhere, in various sizes and colors.  So much happier and healthier than the ones we watched at the chain pet store.

He told me what one to buy (through my descriptions - there's a bunch of brown and white ones, a few white ones, a couple brown, white and orange ones, an odd-looking gray one that looks like a bunny, some solid brown ones, etc.).  I grabbed one I thought was pretty cute and not too big and toted it home.

Lane was happy with my choice (miracle) and named him Flash because of his speed.  He could zip around very quickly and acted NOTHING like poor little Clovis.  (Which makes me feel better, obviously Clovis was unhealthy and it had nothing to do with his care at our villa, right?)

Madolyn came home and fell in love with little Flash and decided she had just enough money to buy her own guinea pig.  I figured what the heck?  We have a huge cage and little Flash came from such a big community, it had to be lonely.  So off we went a week later to purchase Flash a friend.

And wouldn't you know it, Madolyn picked the one I described above as an odd-looking gray one that looks like a bunny.  Typical.  (Mom: Gosh, that dress is ugly!  Mad:  I love it!)  You get the picture.  It was settled, we were bringing home "Chip."

Anyway, before we left I had them check the gender of Chip.  I was told when I purchased Clovis that guinea pigs could have between 2-15 babies at a time.  (I'm not sure if the guy was joking with me or not.)  I had not consulted with my partner in crime at all on this purchase.  (We have an agreement about UAP's --unauthorized purchases.)  But in my defense, Madolyn was buying this one with her own money.  So, technically, it wasn't really my purchase...just go with it.

As it turns out -Chip was a boy & Flash was a girl.  Oops.

So it looks as if we could have our own little guinea pig farm this summer.  I tell all the kids' friends when they come over and play with the little pigs that everyone gets to take a baby guinea pig home when they're born. The kids think it's a great idea.  I haven't talked to any parents yet.  It's like a party favor.  It's only polite to accept the gift.

So we have big pigs outside and little pigs inside...and we could have even more little bitty pigs inside soon...

Forty...fun, frugal and feisty

I had a birthday this week, a big one...and no one really razzed me about it.   I was so ready for it too!  But maybe the only one who thinks it's a big deal is me???  So what if I am 40?  Age is all about your mindset.  I don't feel 40, at least not mentally.  I'm not sure what age I would say I feel like really.  All I know is that the more candles I put on my cake, the younger my parents seem.  (Ha!)

I had a pretty good 40th birthday.  I was surprised with a very practical, but welcome gift - my very own shop-vac with super cool attachments.  We have a really good one, but it's such a hassle for me (and Jay) to try to use it.  If it's in the barn, most likely it has been sucking out hog waste and I really don't want it touching my car or blowing any fumes into my house!  We do wash it out every now and then, but it's not the same, you know...

For lunch, my court reporter friend, Traci, came up to eat with me at the Mexican restaurant.  Not knowing she would buy, I invited Jay to eat with us...and we both got a free meal.  You can't beat that!

Then Jay surprised me with two lovely pots of bright red geraniums.  If you don't know whose favorite flowers those are, you missed out.  Grandma Great bought 19 bright red geraniums every spring to put in her flower bed on her porch.  (I think the number was 19, it was definitely an odd number.)  Later in the evening, my friend Beth brought over two more pots with geraniums.  I was delighted.  I can have some in the front and some in the back.  She also brought some delicious gourmet cupcakes which I have been enjoying all week...(ouch!)

I also got a brand new spiffy bicycle.  Last year I rode my bike quite a bit with Jay while he ran, and although my bike wasn't that old and was exactly what I had wanted at the time, I learned quickly that doing any distance on a bike with hills and dips in the road requires gears.  My beach cruiser was perfect for cruising, but it wasn't built for hills.  Although that had been my excuse for walking my bike two spots at Lincoln Trail Park, and now I won't have one...I'll just have to walk in shame...unless this new bike came with special powers as well.

And to top off an already great day - our sweet baby kitty Boots (now we're calling baby kitty mama) had her baby kittens!  We had been watching her so close for a week now.  And I said last week that maybe she would wait and have them on my birthday...Tuesday morning I told the family she sure was chatty and restless, maybe today would be the day...and it was!

I got some nice cards in the mail, my mom dropped off a birthday card (as I was being rushed away for baseball practice by my impatient son) and my father-in-law slipped me a card too.  I felt a little spoiled when it was all said and done.  As I was getting ready for bed I thought about how truly blessed I am.  I know that phrase is over-used sometimes, but I can't help it.  I have good health, a great family and friends, an awesome little community, my salvation and overall safety.  What more could I ask for?

One of my favorite skits on SNL is one with Molly Shannon. "I'm Sally O'Malley and I'm Fifty." And she usually says something like, "And I can kick!" and then she throws her leg up in the air.  It just cracks me up.  (Honestly at this point, I would pull a muscle if I tried that.)  A coworker brought me a couple pieces of Dove dark chocolate, the kind that comes with sayings on the inside wrapper.  My first one said "Be proud of your age."   Hmm, why not?

My mantra this year is I'm Sarah Wilhoit and I'm 40.  I am fun, frugal and feisty...

The Pampered Ambush

Last Monday the softball game cancelled due to rain so Madolyn and I took the opportunity to go and get her nails fixed up for prom which was Saturday.  I made her an appointment, dropped her off and went shopping to kill time.  She was having a manicure and pedicure so I figured I had at least an hour or so.  I came back once to check in and she was fine so I took off again for a little more shopping.

When I returned, she was in the beginning stages of having fake nails put on so I sat down beside her.  Immediately the flattery began.  One after another, the employees would comment on how we must be sisters, there is no way I was her mother, blah, blah, blah.  I thanked them, of course, but figured it was a ploy.

Pretty soon one of the employees approached us and started in with the comments and then she said to me, "I can fix up eyebrow, yes?"  I laughed and said, oh no, I'm fine.  "No, no, I make you pretty. It be quick.  No problem.  " Hmm, okay, I could see it was going to be a while so I figured, what the heck?  But first I made sure they weren't going to leave me with NO eyebrow at all.  I had noticed that the female employeesall had painted-on eyebrows so it made me a tad nervous.  I was reassured they would not leave me brow-less.

Now, let me preface this by saying, I'm a hairy girl.  I have thick dark hair and it likes to grow and flourish.  My eyebrows are thick and bushy.  (I think my mom calls them the Young eyebrows, an inherited trait.)  I know this, but I also know that what you take out will grow back.  I had had my eyebrows waxed one time before and didn't really notice a big enough difference to have it done again.  I pluck with my tweezers every now and then.  I guess some people are big on proper eyebrow maintenance, others are not.  I would fall into the "others are not" category.

I lie down in this back room and she starts in on the eyebrows.  It was pretty relaxing actually and quick.  It wasn't bad at all.  I could have fallen asleep.

And then it came..."You have hair on lip."  Yes, I realize that.  I always have.  (She said that as if it were a surprise.)  "I take that off too?"  Sure, why not?!  And so she does her magic on my upper lip. Pretty soon, she pulled out a magnifying lamp and had it over my face...then came the scissors.  She was snipping away in my nostrils!  I tell you, I felt like an old man.

Before it was all said and done (2.5 hours later, I was so glad Lane had stayed at Grandma's), I had gel polish on my nails and a fire red face from waxing, Madolyn had cute toenails, snazzy fingernails and waxed eyebrows.  I realize now that the flattery may have been a sales pitch.  They knew what they were doing.  I was suckered in and then ambushed.  Cha-Ching.

Friday Night Fun

Last Friday our plans had consisted of a softball game, but it was cancelled which left the evening wide open.  Jay was off and I asked him what he wanted to do.  He had a great plan - head to an Amish Auction down in southern Indiana.  He baited me with Syd's tacos, I know it...but I took the bait and Lane, Jay and I headed south.

We ate those yummy Syd's tacos on the go and arrived about two hours after the start time for this auction.  I have never been to this kind of an auction and I was dumbfounded at the crowd right off the bat.  It was packed.  There were a couple huge barn/sheds that were filled with people carrying items out.  We went to watch the animals auction.  It never occurred to me that there might be various items being auctioned off.  I would guess there were about six different auctions going on at the same time.  It was madness.

We finally made our way to the animal auction area.  Again, a little shocking for me.  I consider myself pretty country and even redneck-ish at times.  And without sounding too judgmental or snotty here, I was at a loss and felt strangely out of place.  It was obvious that the people there LOVED the auction and probably came every Friday night.  Everyone, but us, seemed to know what was going on, where things were located and how everything went down.  I'm pretty confident we stood out like three very sore thumbs.

I caught myself several times trying to adjust my facial expression.  Shock, amusement, confusion, disgust, uncertainty, anger were just a few of the looks I wore at various times throughout the night. The large animal auction seemed pretty standard, and maybe because I have some experience in that area, I was okay with how everything went down.

The smaller animals, however, were a different story (at least for me).  We walked into that arena/auction area and stood watching from the back for quite a while.  We quickly realized the stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes (some Luv's diaper boxes) contained animals, mostly poultry but some rabbits, in various stages of life.   One diaper box contained three, just-weaned piglets crammed inside! Many of the boxes were just plain boxes, with the top criss-crossed to keep it shut and/or tape wrapped around it.  There were also some boxes that had the top off and chicken wire fastened across it.  I felt a little better about those rigged-up boxes than the ones that were sealed shut.

Jay and Lane loved it and decided they needed a number...so I went and sat down in the stands while they went off to find a bidding number.  I swear they were gone no less than 30 minutes...and honestly, I began to wonder if they hadn't left me.  It was the longest 30 minutes ever.  I felt like people probably thought I was from some animal activist group because I sat there all alone, looking around wide-eyed for Jay...

People would just toss around these boxes, one right after another.  They would fall over, slide, bounce around...and then they would tear open the top and pull out a chicken or duck or rabbit. Plop it down on this spinning table (puke) and start taking bids.  Then they would jerk the animal off the spin top and throw them back into a box, push the lid down and stack them in another pile.  It was a process and men of all ages were focused on it.  It was the craziest thing ever.  I'm not saying they were technically abusing the animals, but they sure weren't being gentle either.  (I do not believe anyone was intentionally trying to hurt any of the creatures.)

Jay was hoping to get a couple ducks (what in the world for, I do not know) and we missed those (dang).  But Lane bought himself a couple very fat, high-dollar rabbits.  Jay wanted him to experience the bidding process so he gave him the card and let him go.  He didn't win the first rabbit he was bidding on and tried again.  Quickly raising his number at the starting bid - Jay giving him a little nudge to the side, No, never take the first bid!  Thankfully, one of the Amish gentlemen who was taking bids took over and announced he had a $5 bid!  It all happened so fast, I'm not sure who was bidding against the Bud, but when it was all said and done we had the top bid of $17.50 and Lane was tickled pink that he had a huge fat rabbit - except we didn't realize we had to take both of them.  Lovely.

At one point, a young man reached up to one of the top shelves behind the auctioneer table and grabbed a diaper box.  They pulled out a very large guinea pig.  All three of us just starting laughing.  It was crazy!

And let me tell you, if you're a hand-talker (like myself, the Quackdaddy and the Bud) sitting amongst bidders at an auction is VERY dangerous.  Both Lane and I came very close to bidding on some poultry a few times!

The only thing I saw worth bidding on were hanging flower baskets.  They were lovely, and of course, we missed them.  I was afraid we might come home with a couple fishing poles once Lane laid eyes on that particular auction, but we moved him right along...

We arrived late but did not come home empty-handed.  I had a full belly from my most favorite tacos and we survived the experience unscathed.  Jay and I both commented that the whole scenario was like something you would see in a movie.  Just plain bizarre.

It's always fun to try something new.  I actually enjoyed our Friday Night Fun.   And in this particular instance, there is no need for me to go back anytime soon...

Clovis the #1 guinea pig

About a month ago, Lane saved up his money and purchased a guinea pig.  He had been asking for one for quite a while.  I/we caved and bought a black and white one from a chain pet store.  I was rather excited about the new addition as I had had fond memories of my little pig from years past.

I had a handsome fella named Floyd for a couple years when I was going to college and early in our marriage.  I loved that little guy.  He was cute and had personality.  He was big enough you could actually get him out and hold him.  He would snuggle up on me and take a nap.  He liked to whistle or 'sing' when he was happy or mad (I think).  As soon as he heard the crinkling of plastic, he thought it meant he was getting a carrot and he would whistle away.

My mom has a great picture of Floyd wearing a miniature sombrero.  It is hilarious, but we did things like that and he would let us.  Funny thing - my grandma hated rodents, but never forgot about good old Floyd.  To the day she died, every now and then, she would bring him up.  I took her to her house once - it either scarred her for life, or she actually liked him.  I like to think Floyd made a good impression on her.

Floyd was a good pig but passed away long ago.  Jay likes to remind me that I killed Floyd by feeding him a green pepper, but I've since learned their life span is about three years...I'm thinking he could have died of natural causes that just so happened to coincide with my attempt at introducing him to a new vegetable.

When we purchased Clovis, he was being held in the back room as part of a mandatory waiting period of being released for sale.  For some people, that might cause alarm.  For Lane, and his parents not wanting to suffer through a tantrum (yes, nearly 11-year-old boys still throw them), we thought little Clovis looked fine and brought him home.

Clovis was pretty calm and seemed okay for a while.  He loved to be scratched on his back down near his rear and would purr almost like a kitten.  All was well until...I read that guinea pigs need timothy hay on a daily basis and I bought a bag of it at Walmart.  (Yes, I realize it is probably not cost effective,but hey, I wasn't exactly in a position to seek out a full-sized bale.)

Again, it could have been a coincidence, but a day or two after I started dropping pieces of timothy hay in the cage, Clovis developed a sniffle, which quickly turned into a major respiratory problem. Madolyn tried hard to doctor poor Clovis, but he went downhill fast and passed on.  He had come with a 14-day warranty or guarantee, but of course, we were a few days past the window.

Stay tuned for more to our guinea pig saga...

Simple Pictures Are Best

Anyone ever read that book as a child?  When I was thinking about writing a post about taking pictures last week, this book instantly came to mind.  My mom read this book to me and my brother many times when we were younger.  It's about a shoemaker and his wife wanting their picture taken for their anniversary.  Although the photographer keeps repeating the same thing over and over, "simple pictures are best," the couple continues to gather items and pets to put in the picture - cluttering up the picture, and the photographer gets very frustrated.  It is a really funny book with a good message.  If you haven't read it, you're missing out.

Can't we all relate to the basic principle of that children's book?  We spend too much time cluttering up our lives with unimportant items and even people that take our mind off of the real picture.

I don't like hearing anyone being called stupid, but the phrase, "Keep it simple, Stupid," is one I can imagine God might like to use on me every now and then...simplicity seems to apply to more than just a photo.

Although, I must say, cluttering up any picture of me with items that can draw attention away from my un-photogenic face is probably a good idea.

The Eleventh Hour

In keeping with our great state's motto, this post is a little late, slightly later than the eleventh hour, which is when our bill fixing the budget issue for court reporters was passed.  Last Thursday, the last day the Senate and House would be in session until mid-April, mid-afternoon our bill was passed - barely, I might add with a vote of 32-26.  We were assured it would pass by those in the know...and I'm told that by the time it gets to a vote, there are no surprises.  Such was the case for us.

Thankfully, all the layoff notices and furlough orders were rescinded.  Everyone gets to stay fully staffed...at least until July.

It just so happens that our annual seminar was on Friday.  I dreaded it all week because if the bill did not pass, it would have been VERY unpleasant.  Turns out, it was the exact opposite.  Everyone was in good spirits, the sessions were very informative and it was actually one of the best seminars I have been to in 18 years.  It would have been a totally different story had the bill not passed.  No one would've been able to focus on anything other than the gloom and doom.

The gal over court reporting services in Springfield filled us in on how everything unfolded and told us that we will be fine through the end of this fiscal year.  They were told to make a 10% cut on their request for the next fiscal year, but she said they will most likely ask for the same amount they asked for last year, and have no reason to believe they won't get.  Even if our budget is slightly reduced, it should not require layoff's or extended furloughs.  The most likely scenario for a cut would be not rehiring for every new retirement position.  That is doable.  Most people can get by here and there with one less reporter for a while, if they had to.  And no one loses their job.

When I searched the phrase, "eleventh hour" I was somewhat surprised that its etymology comes from the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard told in Matthew 20.  It relates to the workers hired at the end of the day.  Makes sense.  They received the same pay the workers hired in the morning received.   I especially like the last verse, "So the last will be first, and the first will be last."  Maybe the House and Senate were just saving the best for last...ha!

This crisis created a lot of stress and anxiety on many, and caused quite the uproar in each circuit as they tried to implement some sort of plan that would be feasible for continuing the court process and stretch the budget out.  Maybe it was a good drill for us all, maybe some of us needed the wake-up call.  I know I was thinking about every purchase and future purchase I wanted to make.

Although I was looking forward to a month of part-time employment, I am relieved that no one is losing their job or insurance.  I'll just look ahead to my vacation time this summer (and get paid for it).

Not photogenic

Those two words describe me most of the time.  Every now and then I will take a pretty good picture, but the majority are not too great.

This problem began back in grade school.   I kid you not, on picture day when the photographer would look to see who was next in line for their individual picture, and see me, she would literally cringe and mumble something about taking my picture.  She wasn't mean about it, she was stating truth.  (She was a family friend, so I didn't take offense to it.)  You could bet that I would either have my eyes closed or they would barely be open.  She took more of me than the others because she knew this.

Not a lot has changed.  About six weeks ago, Jay and I went to my cousin/friend's 40th birthday party in St. Louis.  Her sister and two of her brothers (also my cousins - ha) and their families were there and a few of her good friends.  We had a great weekend.  We stayed at the Lumiere Casino, ate a fabulous meal at a place called Carnine's, went to a dueling piano bar and played in the casino until about 1:30 a.m.  We had a blast.

Up until Jay and I left for St. Louis, I felt terrible.  I had had a horrible cold and really didn't feel like going, but I wanted to go so bad and so did Jay.  Off we went, and we are both so glad we did.

Growing up, Danielle (my cousin/friend) and her family lived just down the road from me so we spent a lot of time together.  She has three 'little' brothers.  One of the brothers I hadn't seen for a very long time (sadly, probably a family funeral a few years back).  It was so good to see him and his family.

Funny thing - after listening to him talk and carry on, making everyone laugh (he's a jokester - as is the whole family), I leaned over to our friend, Krista, and said, "Andrew hasn't changed a bit.  He is exactly the same as he always was."  (The only difference is that he goes by Drew now instead of Andrew, but he'll always be little Andrew to me.)

A while later, he and I were chatting and he said, "You know, I just told Krista that you had not changed at all, you're the same ole Sarah."  Ha!  How funny is that?!  

Anyway, we decided we should take some pictures, especially since we don't often all get together.  Sounds simple, huh?  (See the first and second paragraph of this post...)

We first tried to get a picture with our friend, Krista, and so it began.  Photo after photo of silliness. I could not keep it together.   We moved on to a cousin picture and that was a disaster.  We never did get a decent photo that included me.  Jay, Krista and the three siblings looked great in all of them, and I look like a crazy woman.  It was dark in this piano bar and I think I tried to over-compensate at times to keep my eyes open but not look deranged...it didn't work and then the giggling started...and the crying.

I went through all the Kleenex I had brought.  This giggling-til-you-cry scenario is a common occurrence with the Bennett clan.  And once I get started, I cannot stop...all they wanted was one decent photo, but I could not get it together.  (It could have been all the cold medicine I was taking.) The last photo was in the casino later on...I'm calm, but geesh, there I go trying to keep my eyes open.

No wonder Bev, the local photographer, would frown when she saw I was next in line...

Closed tight

Getting cracked up

Normal picture of me - eyes barely open

Couldn't stop laughing.

Need more tissues...

Around 1:00 a.m. but my eyes are open!

Whirlwind budget issues

In January court reporters across the state were notified of a little snafu in the budget for our salaries. The mistake occurred in July, but no one fixed it.  Fast forward to January, and we have a new governor.  The tables have turned and the issue has exploded.  It is a political tug-o-war, no doubt, and one in which the low-on-the-totem-pole official court reporters in our sweet state will suffer.

In the past, we have had hints of problems like this before and they always resolve.  No one ever really worries about them, but this time is/was different.  Two weeks ago, the Supremes directed our chief judges to come up with emergency plans for the crisis.

The present crisis is this - the court reporting salary line item depletes on April 24.  It needs to last until June 30.  Three full months.  There are somewhere in the neighborhood of 550-600 reporters in our state, I'm guessing the majority are women.  Can you imagine the chaos that this has created?

Every circuit has implemented their own plan, or will implement their own plan on April 1.  Many have already started.  It is sad to see that reporters with 35+ years of experience are being laid off come April 1.  Yes, they are eligible to retire, but they don't want to or they would have already.

Our plan doesn't begin until April 1.  At that time, the reporters in our circuit will work two days a week and be furloughed three days.  My little county will be able to carry on, pretty much without complete disaster, but I cannot imagine the much larger counties!  Even with our plan in place, it doesn't stretch the money our circuit has through the end of June.  Something else will have to go down...that could get interesting.

I'm very fortunate in that my family receives our health insurance through Jay's employer.  If that were not the case, I might be in a bigger panic myself.  The powers-that-be are very aware of that situation and say they will do their best to make sure the majority will work enough to keep their insurance.  One has to be furloughed 31 days to lose the insurance.  I saw one reporter that has just been diagnosed with breast cancer...I pray she doesn't lose her insurance.  The stress that poor girl has to be under...

We have a Facebook page for our state reporters and it really has been informative, but also depressing.  I try not to get too caught up in the postings because some people are really struggling and having a very difficult time.  I'm more of a positive person, so I just keep thinking, it will work out.

I have learned that despite what is catastrophic to us, as reporters, the powers-that-be have continued to work on important issues such as declaring Pumpkin Pie the official state pie, sweet corn as our official state vegetable and implementing a Dan Fogelberg day.  I laugh because it is truly laughable.

As of last night there has finally been a little bit of sunshine in our storm.  A house bill has been proposed to be voted on.  It is positive, but as I said, this is a political battle, and we are very low on the totem pole.  I'm somewhat hopeful it will be resolved sooner rather than later, which is what I was beginning to think.  I just looked and the bill has passed through the committee.  I really don't understand how it all works, I suppose now would be a good time to learn.

I wouldn't mind a couple days off, even without pay, but long-term it doesn't sound so great...and for many that have serious situations it could be a nightmare.  I remain hopeful!

Lynch Breakfast Special

I get into ruts with breakfast.  I find something fast and somewhat healthy and filling and then I eat that for months, get tired of it and have to find something else.  And I have decided that maybe I needed to eat more at breakfast so I wouldn't be so hungry by 10:30.

If only I liked eggs...they are so good for you, have protein and are quick, cheap and easy.  I only like eggs in brownie, cookie or cake batter.  I have tried to like them, but it's just not in me to eat them and honestly I cannot stand the smell.  I truly wish I did.

So I have moved on to my latest breakfast combo - either a couple pieces of bacon or a container of Greek yogurt (for protein) and a bowl of Honeynut Cheerios with almond milk and sliced-up bananas.  It is quite filling and tasty.  I am changing it up here and there depending on whether I have bacon or yogurt in the fridge.

I have noticed that I am not as hungry mid-morning and can almost make it to lunchtime without a snack...almost.

The cool part - every morning as I slice up my banana, smell the Cheerios and pour the milk, I think of my grandparents, Scottie & Margaret.  They ate Cheerios with bananas a LOT - maybe not as much as jello with fruit, but almost.  I can picture us sitting in their kitchen up in Mazon having cereal.

Sometimes I think my kids will miss out just a little bit on having to travel to their grandparent's house because that made it even more special.  I know they reap many benefits from having both sets of grandparents here local, but it was sort of exciting to pack up and head north to Mazon to visit Grandma & Grandpa Lynch. I'm sure as I got older, I may have complained about it (who me?), but I know when I was younger, I loved it.

Isn't it great how the oddest things can cause a memory to surface?  Sometimes it's a certain scent, sometimes it's a song, but sometimes it's simply the Lynch breakfast special...

Stupid Tax

If you have ever listened to Dave Ramsey, you know that is where I get today's title.  Jay and I paid a little bit of stupid tax last week.  A stupid tax usually comes from someone in the Murphy family, if you know what I mean.

Last week Jay picked up the bud after school and headed to the gas station for fuel.  He wanted to get some diesel for the tractor so he could blade the driveway while the temps were up.  He also went ahead and topped off the tank in his truck.

They came home, he filled the tractor up and away he went to shove snow.  Not long into his blading, the tractor simply shut off.  Died.  Wouldn't start for nothing.  He looked it over a few minutes and decided to get his truck to pull it out of the middle of the driveway and take it over to the barn.

He got in his truck, turned the key and nothing.  Hmm.  He sat there a minute and was starting to fume at the notion he had received 'bad' fuel from the gas station...then he noticed the odor from his gloves and looked down at his receipt.

$2.19/gal

Diesel costs more than $2.19/gal.  Jay had inadvertently put gasoline into his truck and the tractor diesel can.  That is not good.

I am just about home when my phone rings, it's Jay.  "You will not believe what I just did."

Let me stop for a moment and say this, if you have followed this blog any at all or know my husband, the above statement could pertain to just about anything under the sun.  My first thought was he got another dog.  (I would've strangled him, seriously.)

"Just tell me."  (It's best to just get it over with.)  "I put gas in my truck and the tractor."  Oh Snap!  "The tractor died in the driveway."  "Can I get around it?"  "Yes."  I continue on to our driveway.

I look at the narrow passage and decide to go for it...and should not have.  I was quickly 'stuck' sort of.  Enough that I knew better, so I stopped the car, turned it off, gathered my stuff and walked to the house.  There are certain times in life where it's best to just walk away...

After talking to his diesel mechanic and working out the details of getting the truck picked up, he quickly wiggled my car out of the snow.  He and Lane used the winch on the four-wheeler to pull the tractor over to the barn, and the Quackdaddy came over with his truck to move Jay's truck in a position that could be easily reached by the flat bed coming our way.

About the only thing I could think to say was "I'm glad it was me or the kids."  And ladies, you know exactly what I mean.  I really wanted to shout "Thank you, JESUS, it wasn't me or the kids!"

Fortunately, there was no serious harm.  The truck hadn't broken down along the road.  No accident or injury came about and everyone was safe.  As 'luck' would have it, Jay didn't seriously damage his fuel system.  It was drained and after a change of fuel filters and some REAL diesel, it was running fine.

Funny thing, the mechanic did discover a potential problem in the 4WD mechanism that was about to break.  Had that happened, it would have been a much more serious repair.  And maybe that would have resulted in an accident or injury...

Yes, we paid a stupid tax, but I'm thinking maybe God intervened just a little.

The child I have

Parent the child you have, not the child you were.  I read that somewhere last year.  It is heavy on my thoughts today.

Our son does not seem to care much, at this point, for sports.  And, oh, it is killing me.  I don't care if he is a super star or not, I just thoroughly love sports and what's better is when you are able to watch your own kids play them.

The boy does love to run.  He won't run with his dad (yet), but he loves to run in races with his peers and pushes himself hard to beat everyone.  He seems fast, but I'm not a good judge in that department (I think a fast walk is good enough).  We are hoping he will maybe take an interest in track when it is available for him.

For some reason it makes me feel like a failure as a parent.  I know it is not.  That is just my pride talking...but then I have that little voice that says somehow I/we have not instilled in him the desire for sports.

Lane is competitive though.  He can't stand to lose when we play games and enjoys winning games with his friends at church and school.  He doesn't really want to be the center of attention.  He would rather stay in the background.  One time a couple years ago when he was in a little basketball league, at one of the games he passed the basketball like it was a hot potato.  I mentioned it later, "Boy, you sure got rid of that ball fast."  His response, "Well, I don't want the ball."  Hmm, in basketball that is kind of the point...

I know he has the desire to win, but what I have to accept is that it may not be at basketball or football - something I want him to do.

When I step back and take a deep breath, I realize it is not really the end of the world.  He enjoys many things like hunting, farming, riding his fourwheeler, working with wood.  It's not like he is lazy or glued to a video game.  When I look over that list, I realize that those are things he can take with him into adulthood just like the skills and lessons you learn from participating in athletics.

It just doesn't seem as fun for me.

I suppose the cheerleader in me is afraid of missing out.  I take pictures and get excited when he has a successful hunt and love hearing him retell the story or show off his 'trophies.'  I guess I could stand in the yard and cheer him on as he zooms by on his fourwheeler...

I certainly do not want him to think I am disappointed in him.  I am not.  My problem is with how I feel I am missing something.  This problem is ME.

This week I attended my first scholastic bowl meet.  Madolyn is on the JV team and it was at home so I went.   It was very interesting.  The best part - they won.  They hadn't won yet so it was exciting...as exciting as a scholastic bowl meet is.  I sat in the back with another parent and there were a few times I could hardly keep from clapping (Madolyn answered 3 questions right).  When it was over, I congratulated the team just like I would if they had won a big game.

Regardless of what my kids are doing, I will support them and I will cheer for them - it just may be from my living room or sitting quietly in the back of a classroom with my hands clinched so as not to clap wildly out loud.

I remember going through this just a little bit with Madolyn and it has gotten better....mostly, after I realized she wasn't going to be a cheerleader like I had been.  I am slightly hopeful that in the future Lane will develop a desire to play more sports, but if he doesn't, I need to accept that and applaud him for whatever HE enjoys doing.  More importantly, I need to accept the child I have.  He is a great kid.

Lunchtime odd couple

Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed.  Ecclesiastes 4:9 (NLT)

During the cold months especially, I spend most of my lunch hours in a local church gym.  I should say, I spend about half of my lunch hour there, I do eat first and run quick errands if I need to.  Just recently it dawned on me how much I have come to love the peace and quiet I experience while there.  There is something about going inside that dark gym, flipping on the light and walking without any other interference.  Yes, I'm walking in a carpeted gym when I would really love to be outside on a beautiful day, but that is not an option right now.  Thankfully, this is.

I love it for many reasons.  One, I'm getting at least a half hour of exercise in regardless of what my evening consists of; two, sometimes (most of the time) I need to get out of my office and the courthouse and just be somewhere else - a mental refresher; three, I always take my Nook and read while I walk - yes, I know it sounds crazy, but really you can walk in circles and read without hurting yourself; four, regardless of rain, shine, snow or sleet (even crazy hot temps) I can still walk; and five, I've got an hour to kill.

When grandma was alive, I visited her during my lunch hour.  In the nice weather, I drive to the state park and sit and read, or drive around.  At least once a week, I do my grocery shopping over the noon hour to save time later.  Sometimes, when I don't want to leave the building, I walk circles in the courtroom - although it is not nearly as relaxing. During the winter months, I have to find something to do indoors and this has been the perfect solution.

This winter I've been sharing the gym with a young man who underwent a heart transplant a few months ago and is not attending school right now because of the risk of illness. He is there shooting baskets and doing some exercises and drills, probably to regain lost strength and to - like me, get out of the house! At first, I thought, this will be temporary once he realizes that I am here almost every single day during this time period.

Nope.  It really surprises me that he has not decided to change up the time he comes, but he doesn't.  I am not saying he comes specifically BECAUSE I am there - I know that's not the case - but he must not mind that I'm there.  At the beginning, I would continue to walk around the circumference of the gym and just dodge any stray balls.  After a while, I realized that it might be helpful if I would just stay on one side of the gym and he could stay on the other side (sometimes he has someone with him shooting baskets).

We almost never speak.  I usually wave at him when I arrive and when I leave, or give him a nod.  He is a teenager, and like so many of them, he has ear buds in.  I learned this by trying to talk to him and being ignored, only he wasn't ignoring me, he just couldn't hear me.  I accept that and do the wave and/or nod thing instead.

The very first time I saw him at the gym a few months ago, he was with an older gentleman and he was wearing a mask.  I can't remember how much time had elapsed since his operation, but it hadn't been very long.  I was very surprised to see him, and although I had never met him, I knew exactly who he was.  I asked the pair if they minded if I walked, they said no, and I told the young man that I had been praying for him (and still do especially now that I see him so often).

Selfishly, at times, I wish he wasn't there so I could have full reign of the gym. Why does he continue to come during my lunch hour?  I don't know.  Maybe he wonders why I don't switch up my time to avoid him.  Perhaps he is tired of being alone a large part of his day while his parents work and he would normally be in school.  And then again, maybe God put us there together just in case he would have trouble...

Baby oil & Dippity-Do

A while back Madolyn left her bottle of Skin-so-Soft baby oil in our shower.  This morning I decided to use it to shave my legs instead of shaving cream.  And the smell triggered my memories...

Grandma K always had baby oil in her bathroom.  Unless I'm forgetting something, I don't remember ever having baby oil at our house...so it kind of made me feel special to get to use it at grandma's house.  I can't even tell you what I would have done with it to be honest, but every now and then I would get out the bottle that was underneath her bathroom sink and use it.  I know this because I know that smell and it takes me right back to her house and that big bottle of baby oil.

Later on, she started buying the Avon Skin-so-Soft, but early on, it was just the plain ole baby oil that our local grocery store had in stock (because she didn't shop at Wal-mart at that time - and never really did that much).

That smell/memory then lead to another smell/memory from her bathroom - Dippity Do!  Oh my goodness, now that's a flashback!  If you are familiar with it, pretend to take a big whiff and you will smell it.  Oh funny, how I loved that stuff!  Again, I have no idea what I actually did with it...but it was fun to swirl my finger around in that cool, green gel.

 

Again, it was one of those products we didn't have at home, only at grandma's house.  I say that as if it were a treat - the green goo called Dippity Do!

I've talked about it before - how smells or a song are associated to specific memories.  I'm so glad.  It's good to remember things from way back when.  And you know, that oil sure does make my skin so soft...

Happy-go-lucky-dogs

Every single day as I pull up to the garage, my three dogs are jumping and barking and going to and fro.  They are so excited to see me they can hardly stand it.  Even if I leave and return home multiple times a day, they go ballistic with joy when I come home.  And Abby, now nicknamed Granny, (who can hardly get up without stretching first, and who, we believe, is partially blind and deaf) is even wobbling with delight as I arrive.  There are many days where I just laugh and shake my head thinking, don't they realize that this is the same scenario time after time?  Whether I'm gone 20 minutes or 8 hours, they act like they haven't seen me in days.  It's like the movie Groundhog Day.

Now let's switch gears to the humans.  Do you know people who have a not-so-pleasant reaction when you see them?  For instance, when you walk into some sort of office or appointment and you are 'greeted' by the most blah person on the planet, as if you're bothering them by showing up...honestly, can you at least pretend to be pleased to see me?

My dogs are happy to see me regardless of what time it is or how the weather is outside.  They don't care if I come bearing gifts or if I am empty-handed.  They love me. They would be terrific greeters at Walmart or church...other than the fact they might knock you down as they attempt to greet you.

I want to exhibit that kind of joy when I see people, don't you?  Not, "Oh crap, there is so and so," or, "Man, I'm so not in the mood to talk to him right now."  And I know that a lot of times, those are the things that are going through my mind and probably written across my face.

Yes, sometimes I want to ram my car into one of the dogs because they will not get out of the way so I can pull in the garage, and there are times when I'm trying to get out of the car and they are bouncing up and down, knocking into the car door, me, my bags...they are blocking the steps to the house or the door...oh yes, a lot of times I'm swinging something at them or shooing them with my foot to get them out of my way...but I do talk to them and at least acknowledge them.  They are so happy to see me...regardless of what I have to say or what I can do for them.

I need to be more like my happy-go-lucky-dogs and make every interaction with another human being a good one.  Life it too short to be grouchy.

Candida what?

Okay, so raise your hand if you have never heard of Candida.  Both my hands are in the air.  I had never, ever in my life heard of such a thing.  And now, after reading and watching and searching, I can clearly see that Candida is a HUGE part of my problem.  And my problems aren't even major in the big scheme of things.  So if my little problems are most likely linked to Candida...I'm thinking that others with big problems are inclined to have Candida problems as well.

I'm so mad at Candida that I am no longer going to capitalize the word from here on out.  It is just an all-around pain in my rump.  It does not deserve a tall C.

So what is this candida I speak of...candida is a fungus, form of yeast, and a very small amount of it lives in our mouth and intestine.  Its job is to aid with digestion and nutrient absorption, but when overproduced, it breaks down the wall of the intestine and penetrates the bloodstream, releasing toxic byproducts into the body and causing leaky gut.  (Thank you www.mindbodygreen.com for that definition.)

I took the online questionnaire and got a high score.  Usually you're happy with high scores, but not with this test.  I was on the very, very high end of the spectrum for candida symptoms.  Going down the list I think, hmm, I never would've guessed that this or that could be related back to something like a yeast/fungus...and I can't for the life of me understand why I have never, ever heard this word out of a doctor's mouth.

Why are we treating all these diseases and conditions with prescription medications when quite possibly the secret is a probiotic that can get the candida in check?  I have spent the last four or five months reading and watching videos on this subject matter.  I have to believe these people are telling truths when they say they have had life-changing results from the Plexus products.  There are just too many of them saying amazing things not to believe it.

Just this morning I read an article about how researchers are finding if young children with peanut allergies take a very good probiotic, their systems can handle the peanut(butter).  Amazing.  What else out there is linked to this fungus yeast that we don't know about?  WHY ARE ON EARTH ISN'T EVERYONE BEING TOLD BY A PHYSICIAN TO TAKE A PROBIOTIC?  Here is the thing, if a probiotic is only good for you, can't hurt you and might possibly assist in wiping out something that attacks our bodies, then what is the harm in taking one?

Why is the Plexus Probio 5 better than any other probiotic on the market?  Simply because of this one ingredient - Chitosanase.  It's what specifically pokes the holes in the Chitin layer (not the protein layers) of the fungal cell well.   Chitin is like the eco-skeleton of a bug.  Digestive enzymes are not able to penetrate this layer.  That's what makes it so difficult to kill fungus.  Look at other enzyme products, even 'candida control' products, how often do you see Chitosanase in them?  You need that ingredient in your probiotic.  If it's not in there, throw it in the trash.  It is worthless against the candida battle.

And that's why I'm forging ahead in my quest to conquer candida and its friends and family that have taken up residence in my body.

Joel O Channel 128

We have recently discovered Joel Osteen Radio on our Sirius radio, Channel 128.  It is FABULOUS. I heard my parents talking about stumbling across it on their way home from Michigan and then Jay tuned in and we've been ever hooked since.  I don't even want to get out of my car.  Our kids think we're nuts, but that's okay.  The other morning on the way to school, I had Joel on and Lane said, "Oh, I heard this one yesterday with dad."  Hmm, so he listens...

Every half hour he begins a new message with a joke.  They're always funny, clean and a good intro for his topic.  I look forward to hearing those funnies.  Yes, he does have repeat messages, but sometimes it's a good thing to hear one over.

Today's message on the way to school/work this morning was great stuff.  The topic was not letting others take your power away.  He talked about the fact that there will always be people in your life that won't understand you or how you think, and there will be those that you will not be able to please regardless of how hard you try, among other things.

You know you have someone or several in your life that fall into this category.  It seems like you cannot get this person to like you or see eye to eye with you on anything (even if you know you are right).  Or the situation where you have obviously done something to upset another but for the life of you, you cannot remember or think of what it could possibly be.  How about in the parent/child scenario?  The child cannot seem to get one thing right no matter how hard they try to please the parent (or so they think).

We all have had those experiences.  And I don't know about you, but these situations stress me out, cause me to carry around a dark cloud and it literally makes me have a pit in my stomach.  Finally, I'm at the point in my life where I have learned that I must turn it over to God.  I have to pray for my heart to be in the right place, ask God to point out any wrongdoing on my part, pray for the other person and then let it go.  It is very hard to do at times because I like control and I like to be right.

But the message that Joel was bringing this morning on this subject was that stewing over these situations only causes that person to claim our joy, rob our sense of peace and take away our power. We should not let that happen.  We also cannot let ourselves stoop to their level, which can be very difficult.  I like to have the last word sometimes (or most of the time), but there are times when you just have to bite your tongue and walk away.  Smile and wave, as the Penguins of Madagascar would say.

He had a funny analogy about this related to birds.  He said something like, You are an eagle.  They are a crow or sparrow.  Fly high like an eagle where crows and sparrows cannot reach.  Soar above so they cannot find you.

He said if we persist in being peaceful, doing the right thing no matter what the circumstance and continue to act out of kindness, God will notice.  If the person you are praying for peace on doesn't accept your peace, God will pass that peace onto you so you can enjoy it.  Ahh,  Isn't that wonderful?

If you have access to Sirius radio either in your car or online, I urge you to try out Channel 128, Joel Osteen radio.  It is so uplifting and encouraging.  I'm not a big fan of TV evangelists, but this guy's messages are great.  He will definitely give you something to think about.

Accelerator, Boost & Block

The next three products, in my opinion, are basically directed at weight loss.  They are designed to be used in conjunction with the Slim.  You would take either the Accelerator+ or the Boost, not both.

The Accelerator+, when taken with the Slim, helps speed up weight loss and/or helps overcome weight loss plateaus.  The Accelerator+ works synergistically to help lose weight fast and easily.  It also increases energy and acts as a further appetite suppressant.

The ingredients in Accelerator+ are natural substances and are considered safe for everyone, although it is not recommended for those taking blood pressure medicine.  And as always, you should consult your doctor if you are unsure.

Features & Benefits:

•        Boosts weight loss safely and effectively

•        Proven ingredients — to boost metabolism, suppress appetite and accelerate weight loss Increases energy

•        Suppresses appetite

•        Speeds up weight loss in fat and inches

•        Synergistic benefits help increase the effectiveness of Plexus Slim

•       Gluten Free

Ingredients:

• Niacin (as Niacinamide) 10mg
• Vitamin B6 (as Pyridoxine Hydrochloride) 15mg
• Vitamin B12 (as  Methylcobalamin) 250mcg
• Folic Acid 2 00mcg
• Calcium (as Calcium Glycinate) 25mg
• Chromium (as Chromium Picolinate) 750mcg
• Proprietary Blend 475mg contains: Yerba Mate Leaf Extract (liex paraguariensis); Higenamine; Hordenine; Hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna) Leaf extract; 5-HTP (5-Hydroxytryptophane from Griffonia simblicifolia Seed Extract); Green Tea Leaf Extract (Camellia sinensis)

The 5-HTP listed just above is one of the key ingredients in the Accelerator+.  It may reduce eating behaviors, reduce caloric intake and promote weight loss.  It has been said that it helps with insomnia and can help lower the risk of heart disease.  Because 5-HTP regulates moods and helps treat anxiety, the lower risk of heart disease is as a result of less anxiety and a more peaceful state of mind.

Boost -  Looking to turn up the heat on your weight loss? Plexus Boost is an alternative companion to Plexus Slim, formulated to energize your life! The thermogenic blend of ingredients in Boost contains Caralluma Fimbriata, an edible cactus that has been traditionally used by tribal East Indians for years to suppress hunger and enhance endurance through increased energy. It has now been clinically proven to suppress appetite, reduce body weight and increase energy intake. Plexus Boost also contains Yerba Mate which has been shown to be a stimulant, diuretic and it may assist with weight management. The Higenamine used in Plexus Boost, sourced from Tangerine Peel and Lotus Seed, has been shown to increase energy. Plexus Boost is sure to live up to its name, helping deliver the weight loss results you want and the energy you need.

Features & Benefits

Boosts weight loss safely and effectively

Proven ingredients — to boost metabolism, suppress appetite and accelerate weight loss

Increases energy

Suppresses appetite

Speeds up weight loss in fat and inches

Synergistic benefits help increase the effectiveness of Plexus Slim

Gluten Free 

Ingredients in a 2 capsule serving:

· Niacin 20mg

· Vitamin B6 30mg

· Vitamin B12 (as Methylcobalamin) 500mcg

· Folic Acid 400mcg

· Calcium (as Calcium Glycinate) 50mg

· Chromium (as Chromium Picolinate) 1.5mg

· Proprietary Blend 900mg

Proprietary Blend contains: Caralluma Fimbriata Extract, Citrus Reticulata/Nelumbo Nucifera blend (Higenamine from Tangerine Peel/Lotus Seed), Yerba Mate Extract, Green Tea Extract

 Additional Ingredients – NuFLOW

Personally, between the Accelerator+ and the Boost, I prefer the Accelerator+.  I tried the Boost, but it made me jittery.  I also cannot handle taking two of the Accelerators at once.  I take one with my Slim and one at lunch.  I think they help me control my appetite, and hey, if they help me sleep and be in a better mood...why not?

Their newest product is called Block.  It blocks starches and sugars from converting to glucose in the body, thereby promoting healthy blood sugar levels. I take 1 Block capsule 30-40 minutes before my two biggest meals of the deal, normally lunch and supper.  The hardest part with the Block - remembering to plan ahead and take it.  I leave it in my purse for that reason.

Features and Benefits

·         Helps reduce glycemic index of ingested foods

·         Beneficially modulates starch and table sugar digestion/absorption

·         Inhibits enzymes that convert starches to glucose

·        Slows conversion of glucose to fat

·        Promotes healthy weight control

     Minimizes free radical damage/oxidative stress

Ingredients:

Proprietary Blend contains: White Kidney Bean 10:1 Extract, InSea2 Brown Seaweed Blend (Ascophyllum nodosum, Fucus vesiculosus standardized at 20% polyphenols)

Other Ingredients: Microcrystalline cellulose, gelatin, magnesium stearate, Silicone dioxide.  InSea2 contains naturally occurring Iodine

I can honestly say that within three weeks of adding the Block, I lost three inches off my waist.  Just like that.  I didn't lose any extra weight, just the inches. Some people like to refer to it as a chisel, chiseling away at your body and face.  There are some great before and after photos of people who did the trial run with the Block before it was released to the public.