Seven hundred and thirty-four scans later, I am finished with the photos that were in the 6 packages marked with my grandmother's name. I still have 10 packages to go on this project.

Kashi has let it be known that he feels neglected and needs more attention. The birds...well...they are still not speaking to me because of my rather unforgivable behavior from yesterday. Whilst I was lost in the project, I forget to uncover their cage and open the door until after 8:00 PM. I felt horrible when, in the midst of scanning, I glanced over at their cage and realized my neglect.

For dinner, I wanted a salad, but found myself without lettuce. After wondering if it would be weird to consume what I had planned without the leafy vegetable, I put the chicken, corn, carrots, black beans, and feta cheese in a bowl and tossed it all with a basil, basalmic vinaigrette. I thought it was tasty, but wondered if anyone else would even find the thought appetizing. When I queried my dear friend Wynne regarding the matter, I found her response ever so slightly vague, filled with reassurance that I was not, in fact, too weird. Hmmm...

~~~~
Question: Would a person in 1891 use the idiomatic phrase "paying his dues"?

I back dated this entry by two hours because I wanted for it to reflect the date of this crazy, crazy day.

I awoke around noon and came downstairs to let Kashi out. While he was doing his business, I flipped up the computer and thumbed the power button. By the time he was back, I started working on the scanning project.

Hours passed.

I organized all the photos from my grandmother's godfather. I scanned her photos through her teens. I also rifled through and organized the paperwork my mother included with photos. I scanned more.

My mother called to ask a question regarding some information I sent her. Hours passed again. With her on the phone, I created an archive account at her hometown newspaper and started searching. I discovered the obituary and article about my great, great grandfather (I am not sure about the greats) who was an original "pioneer," a man who arrived in 1865 and died in 1913. He was heralded as a son of city and a man who, along with his life, lived in gentle peace and kindness to others. His wife, Nannie, had died two years earlier. When I saw the photograph of her that was run in the paper, I had to swallow hard to hold back the tears. When I spoke to my great uncle about contacting the family of his half-brother I discovered among the photos, he wistfully said that he knew nothing, that he didn't even know the name of his father's parents. I was crying when I told him their names.

My grandmother hid so much in her life. She held grudges and manufactured "truth" to fit what she wanted out of life. I came across many articles about her in the paper, chronicling all she did for the community, especially the youth in the inner-city school where she taught. Publicly, she was a giant. Privately, I think she was a monster.

My great, great grandfather came from Castile, Spain. He was part of the troops hired by the Mexican government to "deal" with the Aztec Indians. He was killed in 1881, shortly after the birth of my great grandmother. Another great, great grandfather was a colonel in the confederate army. Apparently, my ancestors did not choose the side of honoring life in two egregious periods of human history. If my research into my current relatives is correct, life is a cheap thing indeed...from physically and emotionally harming children to killing classmates.

No long lost rich uncles to rescue me from my unemployment have I found...only history that is harsh and unforgiving, with few lives unmarked by alcohol, violence, secrets, and death.

I stopped the work, the research, the scanning...to write here. I wanted to give myself a break from this journey. On Friday, I left Megan and Graham at an important time, a time when they are both beginning to understand the path on which they stand. A time in which they are learning to look outside themselves to the Lord Jesus Christ. I must admit, right now, I am choosing the fiction over reality.

I wish to travel with the two of them on the path of faith for a while before finally going to sleep, so that my dreams might be of light rather than the darkness of this day.

Have you ever wondered when I became a writer? I have. I mean, I think I have always like to write, but what can I actually remember? Doodly Squat.

Well, it turns out that I do not have to wonder anymore.

My father has been cleaning out his closets. I am not sure what I think about this, but he brought over a 3-ring binder of all the correspondence that I have ever sent to him (and that to my grandmother), including copies of my grades, and all the notations he made on the money he spent on me from birth through college, including postage!

Below is a letter I wrote to my grandmother just after I turned six years old.


Dear Isabel, How are you?
I am too shy to kiss the boys.
I am learning how to spell words
by using flash cards.
I have a Donny Osmond lunch box.
I love you. Love Tricia

XXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXX


What else did I find interesting in the binder? Remember the photo I found of myself in New York City that upset me since I didn't remember ever being there? Apparently I wrote my father a letter comprised of a very exhaustive description of the trip.

I feel like a voyeur on my own life...

My father came over for one of our movie marathons. The trouble is...he had a party last night and so we only managed two movies thus far. Well, two and a bit.

We made our pilgrimage to Wal-Mart, partly because while he did not get lost on the way over thanks to Garmin, he did forget his overnight bag. We loaded up on the essentials, picked a few essentials for me, and headed to the $5.50 DVD bin. Dad picked out 3 movies and I picked out 4. I might have picked out a few more, but with him footing the bill, I thought we should restrain ourselves somewhat.

We then went to Ruby Tuesday's because that is his new favorite place to get a hamburger (I still prefer Five Guys). Since I have been clucking my way through my meals for the past month or so, I thought I would get a hamburger, too. I asked for the cook to prepare it medium rare, you know...pink in the middle. Well, it was absolutely raw...mushy. The waitress gagged when she saw it and promised to get me another one pronto. Perhaps it was a bit too pronto. The second one was only slightly less raw and still mushy. This time, I was the one to gag because I bit into it.

I picked off the bacon and the cheddar cheese and sent the thing back permanently. Our check included just Dad's meal and my drink. My father kept asking if we should stop by somewhere on the way home, but I didn't see the point. I could just have some more chicken.

Well, we watched War of the Worlds, which got us both upset. It was too depressing, too horrific, and altogether too overwhelming. Prior to beginning our movie marathon, we had set our line-up of movies, but after seeing that one, we decided to switch the order to a plain old cat burglar movie. Oh, my...did we pick a truly awful one. The producers of Hudson Hawk should pay us pain and suffering compensation for the 26 minutes we tried to hang in there for the movie. Shame on you, Bruce Willis! For shame!!

Quickly, we shuffled through the pile of movies for something that might erase those awful movie memories and chose Dragonfly. Dad and I both were shedding tears at the end (he's gotten so emotional of late). Frankly, we needed a good old fashion shoot-'em-up to right our ships, but Dad is just too tired.

So, he's off to bed. I am off to my book. And we are both looking forward to better movie progress tomorrow. After reflecting on this evening a bit, I'm thinking that we might should watch National Treasure tomorrow for good measure.

For some reason I could never determine, my scanner stopped working with my other laptop. I kept getting a connection error. I could scan once or twice, but no more. Sometimes it would disconnect four or five times in one scan. So, I abandoned it.

When I received the replacement laptop, I thought I would try again. Yet, this time I could not open the software that manages the scanner. I didn't think to pursue the matter again until two days ago. Voila! There was a known conflict with the latest version of Internet Explorer and the HP software.

With my scanner up and running, I returned to my project (a year late now) of cataloguing and scanning all the family historical photos that were discovered once my grandmother died. Some of them date back to the early 1800's.

Here is one of my great grandmother on her honeymoon. I wonder where she was, what they were doing. I have photos from her childhood and many, many of them from my grandmother's childhood.

My grandmother had a godfather who doted on her wholeheartedly. Charles E. Frees was a noted engineer with projects in Mexico, South America, and the Southeastern US. He sent her copious amounts of photos of his projects and took many of the ones of her youth. The collection was truly a staggering discovery.

However, the photos and documents brought tears as well as joy. For one, my grandmother had a half-brother she kept hidden from her children. My grandmother, while remarkable in her public life, was not so in her private life. No one holds a grudge as did she, punishing those whom she felt betrayed her for a lifetime. Perhaps she couldn't forgive her father for having a child from his first marriage.

I Googled him and connected with the son-in-law of his own son. Both my great-uncle and his son have passed away, but there is a significant branch of the family in Kentucky. I hope to connect with them and exchange photos and history. However, the contact said the family is quite private. Time will tell.




Speaking of time, I thought I would add one more photo. It is another one of my great grandmother...I am the child on the left.

I am up still...writing.

Just now, however, I am watching my puppydog sleep. He is dreaming. Running through some field, I would surmise by his paws moving back and forth. He barks from time to time, though it is muffled since his mouth remains closed. His tail will wag, too, but only in the tiniest movements. I love watching him dream and try to imagine the joy he is having.

Sometimes, when he is dreaming, I would swear he is nursing. Can a dog remember that far back?

I find it fascinating that he even dreams in the first place.

He knows many words. He has learned appropriate behavior. He is playful, often throwing his ball for himself in an attempt to get me to join him. He is sneaky, remembering things he shouldn't do and tries to get away with them anyway. He tries to make up with me when he has snapped at me. He is stubborn, often enjoining in a staring contest as a way of letting me know that he is choosing to sit. [Blind obedience is not a trait of Shiba Inus.] He snuggles with me when I am most upset and remains aloof when he wishes to be by himself. And he dreams.

He is a dog...and yet he dreams.



Perhaps, I should let my day end and see if there are any dreams awaiting me.

My scripture memory verses for the week couldn't be more apt.

In the wee hours of the morning, while still writing away, I thought I would take a break and search for this week's passage. When my eyes fell upon the passage, I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach...but in a good sort of way. When I went to type the passage into my scripture blog, I miss-typed a single word that fundamentally changed the message I found in the passage: be on the alert became be on the alter. It sure made me think about the things I should be laying before Christ.

I am sure I have typed a thousand times how hard it is being unemployed, feeling useless, worrying over money. I struggle with believing how it is that this is a good thing in my life. I struggle with resting in the peace of Christ. And then I struggle with how weak my faith has been over the past six and a half months.

I think, perhaps, the miss-type was one of those perfect moments of clarity that often strikes whilst reading the Word of God. Of course, I should be on the alert. Frankly, one could say that I am making things easy for the father of lies. But I should also be approaching the alter of God with my burdens and laying them down. Even if I have to do so again and again...Because I find them in my arms once more.

Thousands of years have passed since those words were first penned, yet it is as if they were written just for this time and this place in my life. Such is the glory and the power of scripture.

Well, I You Tubed today.

I like to watch Dr. Who, a British sci-fi show created by BBC One and re-broadcasted on the Sci-Fi channel here in America. There was a Christmas special that aired over the holiday season. I learned about it whilst perusing the BBC, but couldn't find a listing on the Sci-Fi Channel. I wondered if it would be aired here, especially since the series seems to be aired here some months after it airs in England.

Lo and behold, I found someone who put the episode on You Tube! It was in seven parts, but delightfully good. Wahoo!

I sort of wondered if I ought to look around the video-sharing sight, but I thought that perhaps it would be sliding down a slippery slope. I would imagine that watching videos there could be quite addicting, becoming a black hole of your time!

Still, I was glad someone when through the effort of putting the episode on-line. I just wonder if the BBC minds...

Today, I found myself once more trying to help that international organization that is an utter mess in a virtual volunteering task. Some months ago, I had told them that until they had a business plan, a communications plan, and a strategic vision plan, they were not really in a position to utilize virtual volunteers--the work was too disjointed and ineffective. I should have said they were trying to hold their finger in a hole of the Hoover Dam. Really, none of them can clearly communicate anything!

I had also told them once they had done so, I would be willing to do discrete tasks for them. So, they sent me their inaugural eNewsletter...a 7-page MS Word document with a overly long, rambling letter from the new executive director. I edited the letter and the newsletter. However, I just couldn't resist. I re-worked a PageMaker template into a more polished and professional newsletter for them. I do not know if they will use it. The person currently working on the newsletter proposed I become their Editor-in-Chief. Yep...sucked right back into their black hole!

I will say that during the volunteer work today, I learned how to add a hyperlink to a PDF document after it has been created. Score 1 for me!

This evening, I engaged in a joint cooking operation at my writing student's house today. Our appetizer was my favorite spinach dip recipe. I cooked chicken with the Mexican dry rub marinade and a summer squash faux souffle. My writing student's mother put together a great salad and roasted potatoes and carrots. Oh, my...can she roast. Of course, it does help that she can just trot out to her back yard for fresh rosemary. Really, it is a huge, heart plant residing in her garden.

We also watched the remake of Yours, Mine, and Ours. The original is an absolute favorite of mine. Since Dennis Quaid did a great remake of Parent Trap, I had hopes for this one. While I did hear scuttlebutt that it a negative tone, I found the movie pleasantly surprising. It was a modern interpretation, but it lacked the outright sarcasm and disrespect that was found in the butchered remake of Cheaper By the Dozen. I could have done without the family pet being a pig, but I experienced quite a few guffaws throughout the viewing.

Upon returning home, I logged onto the Internet and applied to two jobs, one close and one a wee bit of a wicked commute. However, the close one is my first step in abandoning my hope of marrying my skills and interests to a job. Frankly, I applied for a high paying executive assistant position. I think I shall weep for days should I be hired there, but it would be better than remaining unemployed.

~~~~
NOTE: There was an error on the sumptuous Strawberry Bread recipe on my January 13, 2007 blog entry. I forgot to put how much oil to use. It is now correct!

I polished off another chapter yesterday...or actually this morning. I wrote through the entire night and on into the rather non-wee hours of this day, i.e., nearly 8:00 AM. I believe that makes three chapters in the past week or so.

While I was writing this one, there was this point during which I felt as if I were Adam (the pastor) sitting down near a lake talking with Megan, sharing a bit of his past that makes him who he is this day. All these thoughts and feelings poured out before I even realized what was happening.

My writing works that way at times. One minute I will by typing away along in a direction I believe the plot is going and the next histories and personal experiences of a character explode on the page, something I had neither planned nor anticipated.

I mean, I know that I had made Ruth and Adam close siblings as children because their mother never let them play much out of her own fear that one of them might die has had her own brother. However, I had not anticipated how Adam's conflict over those early years in trying to understand that his mother really did love him and dealing with his own anger and resentment might play a role in reaching out to Megan. It just happened that way.

Of course, as with most everything about this story, I immediately liked the felicitous happenstance. I just wonder if readers will as well.

I vacuumed, dusted, polished the furniture, swept, did the dishes and laundry, and cleaned the bathrooms. The disappointing part of all this work was how much I needed to clean the wooden furniture after my last bout of productivity.

I also cleaned out the last cabinet. While I have already cleaned and organized the utility closet in the basement, in my heart I believe that it could be cleaner, more organized. I just am not sure how to proceed...other than to take everything out and start from scratch. Boy would that be a rather large undertaking.

Whew...I need a nap just thinking about it!

The Sunday paper last week came with a free sample of Quaker Oats latest product, a maple and brown sugar version of oatmeal that came with a crunchy topping you add once the oatmeal has been cooked.

I must admit that I have never quite been a fan of oatmeal. A year ago, when my mother visited, she purchased this very expensive can of cross-cut oatmeal and cooked it for me. The process took over half an hour and I enjoyed the still crunchy texture. I still have the can of oats, but I have not tried to repeat her culinary craft with regard to them because she neglected to leave me the recipe.

At first, I threw away the packet, half because it was a small package of oatmeal and half because it came attached to a newspaper. After all, who knows how it got there or what safety measures were taken in this free distribution. However, the next day found me searching the trash can for my arthritis pill.

I had put it in my pocket with the rest of my day's medicine when coming downstairs, forgotten about them, stuck some trash in my pocket as I was cleaning, threw the trash away, remembered the pills, pulled them out of my pocket, and realized that the Celebrex was missing. The pain I am in without that pill is nearly overwhelming, so searching a trash can is the least of what I would do to get it back.

I did not find the pill, but I did come across the packet of oatmeal. It was wrapped in plastic and had come to no harm for its stint in the can. When I was putting all the trash back in the can, I thought about my financial state and decided that I should eat the oatmeal.

While I still find instant oatmeal a bit slimy for my tastes (texture oft plays a role in what I prefer to eat...ah-hem...okra), anything that is laced with maple flavoring and brown sugar is high on my list of favorites. Therefore, the free meal was not as objectionable that I first suspected that it would be. I would note that the serving was a bit sparse. I know that oatmeal is supposed to stick to your ribs, stay with you all day long. However, this serving, if stretched by pausing between each bite, might have covered, oh, two of them? Perhaps, three. Certainly not the whole set!

I sat on my deck chair for a while this evening.

The winter storm that has been ravaging America for days on end has finally rolled into my area. I do not believe we are slated for snow, or even rain, so all we have to endure is an icy blast wending its way through coats and gloves. Although, tonight I wore neither.

It has been so incredibly unseasonably warm all winter. I know that I have saved money in heating costs. Being unemployed, the weather could be seen as a boon. But having MS, the warm weather is just plain discouraging. The heat exacerbates my symptoms and can be a serious danger to me. The warm weather, while not marked by summer's heat, just wearies me. I've been living in a tank top and shorts in a home that has often been hotter inside than out because I have yet to run the air conditioner. Two nights ago, when I laid down in bed, I turned to look at my alarm clock to note the time and saw that the temperature in my room was 79.4 degrees. With the ceiling fan on blast and a cold pack beneath my neck, I finally managed to fall asleep.

I know that dozens have died from this storm. I know that hundreds of thousands have suffered from cold and loss of electricity. I know that the entire country will pay for this storm when it comes time to buy their groceries in the coming weeks and months. I have prayed for the safety and well-being of those who have slammed by one storm after another and those who have laid their lives on the line trying to rescue both man and beasts in those beleaguered areas.

This I know...yet still I welcomed the arrival of winter's blast, even if it only lasts for a couple of weeks before vanishing back into the unseasonable warmth. I welcomed the cold because I feel better in such weather.

I sat on the deck chair even when I had to tuck my jersey pants into my socks and pull my sleeves down over my hands. I sat on the deck chair soaking in the energy that I found in the invigorating arctic air. I sat on the deck and spent the time shutting out the whole world to savor the moment, no job worries, no money worries, no puppy-dog worries. It was me and Old Man Winter...greeting each other like old friends.

I think that someone should gift me a book with the topic of 101 things to do with chicken!

On the way home this afternoon after stopping by to celebrate with my writing student's middle brother, who has now entered double digits, I battled an overwhelming desire to just go out an charge some sumptuous meal. I called my best friend B to chat so I could resist the urge. However, my conversation centered around pizza and also mentioned Thai and Indian food. Not a great effort at avoiding the desire, eh?

Well, when I arrived home, I peered into my kitchen cabinets and refrigerator and tried to figure out what I could make that was new, that was not Tex-Mex in nature (although I am very much looking forward to consuming my next chicken quesadilla, don't get me wrong). I settled on trying to make chicken pizza, because I do happen to have a fresh ball mozzarella (having had the fresh stuff in Italy, it is hard go back to the packaged shredded stuff).

I cooked the chicken with the dry-rub and sliced it thinly. I made a crust, topped it with Prego sauce, Oregano, the chicken, and thinly sliced mozzarella. That sounds like a good meal, eh?

It should have been a great meal, a significant change from my current budget fare, and tasty in its own right. It should have been.

Unfortunately, I do not have any yeast. I Googled for some pizza dough recipes, but they all required yeast. I then went back and stared at the cabinets. Buried at the back of the top shelf, I found an old box of Bisquick. Back on Google, I found four different Bisquick mix pizza dough recipe and picked one of them.

I am not sure if basically it is just not a good idea to even think of Bisquick and pizza at the same time or if it is just that the box I used was most likely at least a half dozen years old if not more. And it was opened.

The crust was horrible. I actually spit out the first bite I took. Is this a metaphor for how crappy my life has been going of late?

After battling my utter disappointment (after all the crust baked up golden brown), I slid off the sauce, cheese, and chicken, pretended it was Chicken Parmesan, and finished eating my meal.

I have been sending notes to my grandfather and great uncle, both older men who are unbelievably kind and courageous in the health battles they have been facing. I often email my great uncle, but I learned by accident that he greatly enjoys having snail mail come to him. Hence, the small cards and letters.

However, neither of them know what a sacrifice doing so is to me.

I struggle with writing by hand. While I find the concentration it takes far more difficult than typing, it is both the forming of letters and the act of spelling properly that mark the battle. My pages are filled with blots, scratch outs, and smudges of white out. I also fight to control both my temper and my attitude, for I feel horrid about the fact that it is probably easier for a second or third grader to write the missive than it is for me. I may have a leg up on the spelling of some words and the construction of my sentences, but the ease and confidence which most anyone who has learned to write wields has disappeared for me.

Writing the notes I mailed on Friday drove home the fact that this ability is slipping further and further away from me. Writing them took over an hour. Crafting my thank-you notes for those who blessed me with gifts at Christmas lasted over six hours for nine notes.

Last night, I did manage to complete another chapter for the week and have started on one today. When my fingers rest on a keyboard, the muse flows through fingers that are neither clumsy nor slow. For this ease of writing, I remain grateful.

However, it is no small thing for me to say that I am mourning losing the ability to write by hand. A while ago, I gave up my signature. I no longer try to either spell my name or form all the letters within it properly. It just simply isn't worth the battle while standing in line at a store. On cards yes, but no just about anywhere else bar legal documents.

Even so, I refuse to simply type those missives because I wonder how much longer I will be able to set pen to paper with any measure of success.

I would guarantee that were you to make my dear friend W's strawberry bread, you would not be disappointed.


Strawberry Bread

3 Cups Flour
2 Cups Sugar
1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
1 Teaspoon Salt
1 Teaspoon Cinnamon
4 Eggs (beaten)
1 1/4 Cups Oil
1 Teaspoon Vanilla
20 oz. Frozen Sliced Strawberries (thawed)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine dry ingredients in a large bowl. Combine beaten eggs, oil, vanilla, and strawberries in a medium sized bowl. Mix together by hand. Add mixture to dry ingredients all at once. Mix well by hand. Pour into well greased and floured loaf pans. Bake for 50-60 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the loaf comes out clean.

Makes two 9x5 loaves or three 8x4 loaves. If baking as muffins, cook for 20-25 minutes.

Even after an interview that was more of a conversation with laughter and an exchange of communications practices and messaging ideas at my second interview on Wednesday, I received the dreaded thank-you-but-no-thank-you email.

I wept for hours.

I really don't understand this. I can write circles around many folk, I am organized out the wazoo, and am great at executing action plans with efficiency and efficacy. WHY CAN I NOT GET A JOB??????????????????????????????

Through the tears, I went on-line and searched through three of my favorite job spots. I found six more positions, two with good commutes, but all with hard to stomach communications topic. Can you see me as a transportation advocate? I hope someone does.

I don't even think an entire case of Dr Pepper would help assuage how I currently feel...

My friend W gently corrected me tonight on just how long we have been friends. I had been counting from when I was 17. She told me that I was 15 when we met; there were times she gave me rides home from school. I do not remember a single one. In fact, I remember very, very little of those 25 years of her friendship.

I know how that makes me feel. I wonder what it is like for her...to hold memories of our friendship that are nonexistent to me...

Something that I savor about W is that sometimes when we are talking, she finishes my sentences. But she does not merely guess/know the words that I am trying to say. Instead, she takes the ephemeral thought I am trying to convey and crystallizes it into a clear concept of understanding. She takes the bits and pieces and puts them together for me in such a way that takes me even further along the path than I had intended, that I had seen myself.

This lovely aspect stems not merely from our long association, but also from her keen intellect. I could wish she were more intellectually challenged in her daily life so that she might better realize the possibilities that lie before her, yet her basic work in counseling for troubled youth and their families changes lives.

I want the world for her. She rebuilds the world for others. Which is the greater path? Is there a way that she might travel both...her reality and my dreams?

When we were driving to Costco yesterday, I asked my writing student's mother G if we had done something to our legs while cleaning up the basement because the outer part of both my thighs was hurting me. She couldn't think of any bumps I did, so it was just another mystery for me...like the now four items that are now missing in my home. Last night in the shower, I took a look at the bruises on either leg and just wondered how many other things I was going to forget.

However, today, while sitting in the green chair, the mystery was solved.

Kashi has taken to sleeping on the couch, and given his current state of health I have been loath to disturb him. So, I have been writing while sitting in the green chair. Sitting cross-legged. I sat down this afternoon and nearly shot back out of the chair because of the pain in my thighs pressing against the arms as I sat cross-legged! The light bulb went off in my head. I have never sat in the green chair this way until Sunday, when I typed my way through two football games and three movies.

Who else do you know who can injure herself in a reclining chair?

I put in place my first energy saving, weird-looking light bulb today. My goal was at least one, since that is the goal the EPA has for each household in American in their Energy Star campaign...I believe.

My bathroom sink was stopped up, so I used the magic ZEP 10 Minute declogger. However, I had to use the last of my bottle. Lest I find myself in dire need at another point, I stopped by The Home Depot, home of those wonderful red bottles of magic to pick up another one. While there, I saw the light bulbs and decided to get two of them.

Everything I purchase is being charged, so each thing I buy is difficult for me...but I thought I should follow through on my plan. [Especially since my writing student's parents fed me quite well the night before after my labors, i.e. grocery savings.] My plan was to put one in the lamp by the couch where I've needed a new light bulb and in the lamp next to my bed once that one runs out. The cost, $6.97 each, was a bit daunting...but saving the environment doesn't come cheap, eh?

Well, a few hours later, my writing student's mom and I were at Costco, and we spotted a pack of 4 of those light bulbs for only $7.89. WOW! I get three more for just $1 above the cost of the ones I had purchased just a short while ago. Needless to say, I shall be making a return trip soon.

So, the light is screwed into the lamp by the couch, and I am typing by its glow. Another resolution upheld!

Perhaps...keeping resolutions might not be that hard after all!

I spent about six hours at my writing student's home today, helping her mother reclaim the storage area of the basement. Ah, there is nothing I like better than to roll of my sleeves, dive in, and organize another person's mess! When we were done, there was a large open space that the youngest boy and I have eyed as a great hide-a-hole for all his Lego toys. He thinks the "secret" spot is great. I am salivating over the prospect of getting all his Legos out of sight. Really, those little bits of plastic reproduce themselves all over the house!

I think one of the reason's I enjoy working on home improvements in the P house is that it is the sort of place I would like to have one day. Yes, because of the larger size, but the rooms and layout and location are all the sorts of things I would like. Of course, I would have one of the bedrooms devoted to a library with wall-to-wall shelves! My writing student's parents have made some truly solid choices in renovating their home and it is becoming a perfect fit for their family.

The other reason I like hanging out over there is G's generosity in preserving the childhoods of her children. They write, act, and film in these crazy plays with all this costume stuff that practically takes over the freshly cleaned playroom in the basement before I can even get the vacuum cleaner away. Yet, despite her desires for a more organized home (perhaps a futile longing with 5 kids who are not keen on housekeeping), G doesn't bat an eyelash at the chaos. I deeply admire the choices she and her husband have made in giving their children time to play and be involved in community sports, arts, and music...especially given the personal sacrifice the two of them have made in carting 5 kids here and there so that they can be enriched by those experiences. Who wouldn't want to slave labor in a storage room to support a family such as this?

~~~~
I did finish entering the books from the built-in shelf. Not including the cookbooks (I decided I could live without them being on my spreadsheet), I have 142 books in this location. The task is taking longer than I thought because I added a few more fields of information to my spreadsheet, such as if it is a first edition, if it is a multicultural book (if so what culture), and if it is an antique (I have a respectable number of books from the 1800's). I think I am up to the letter "O" on the spreadsheet columns.

I figured out that I have nine locations left (10 if you count the stash of books I found on the top shelf of my closet). If I get one location done a month, then the resolution project will be completed on time. And...if I look a it that way, I am done entering books for the month. Now I can turn my attention to the annotated bibliographic notecards that need to be entered into an identical spreadsheet.

Lest you worry, I wanted to assure you that I have finally attacked my bedroom closet. The end result was more space, a cleaner appearance, five small bags of things to be donated, and one large bag of trash. [Why, tell me, do I still have the instruction book and the floppy disks for Word 6.0 for a Powerbook that is 15-years-old?]

The most interesting find was copies of my transcripts. Gee...I used to be smart...

However, I think that for the sake of honesty I will admit that I am beginning to believe that I should seek help for my attachment to top-loading sheet protectors. I was a bit dismayed to find a whole stash of them...considering that I have two other stashes I found whilst cleaning out the study...and none of these include the two boxes of sheet protectors that I bought on sale last spring because I was sure I needed them.

Really, this top-loading sheet protector problem may very well be even greater than my white crew sock problem.

~~~~
I finished both assignments and e-mailed to the VP of Internal Communications. Boy...I sure hope he likes them and offers me a job when I see him on Wednesday! Wouldn't that be a lovely way to start the new year?

~~~~
NOTE: A heartfelt thanks goes out to my friend W. I was complaining to her on the phone about the food I have been eating lately (I finally finished D's leftovers and groceries she gave me last month), given its canned quality. I was lamenting the fact that it had been a week since my last chicken enchilada (I've been having one about 5 times a week...if not 7). She said that I should cook myself a quesadilla. Casting about my brain cells for images of the contents of my refrigerator, I realized that I could cobble one together. With my two left-over tortillas, I added sauted chicken (cooked with the dry rub Mexican marinade I have previously waxed poetically about here), black beans, corn, cheddar cheese, and sour cream. Oh, my! What a tasty dinner! I am very much looking forward to purchasing the necessary ingredients for more quesadillas when I fetch the items for the chicken enchiladas!

Oh, my 'Boys. What a horrible, horrible ending to their season. Mighty heartbreaking!

~~~~
I received a call-back for an in-person interview next week. Great news, eh? Yes, it is...but...I am a bit dismayed at all the work I have to do for this interview!

I had to complete a 5-page application that was geared more to the shift worker than a manager. I mean...who remembers what elementary school they attended? I certainly do not! I do now there was more than one of them...

I then had to complete a psycho-social profile on-line and submit a one-page essay describing myself. That was a bit too much thinking about myself for me!

Next was to create a factsheet for volunteers on how to access their intranet and what they will find on the website. That entailed getting a user name and password and then plowing through all the links and documents from one end of the site to the other. Once I got a handle on the site, I had to design and compose the fact sheet.

Finally, I had to submit a critique of the intranet website.

I have drafted both the critique and the factsheet, but both need more work. I need to wait, though, until I have fresher eyes. Both assignments are due tomorrow.

I did apply for three more jobs.

I lay down in bed to read last night and forgot about the barrette that was still in my hair, pressing against that spot on the back of my head. So, all too soon, I was dizzy and nauseous. After spewing my dinner in the toilet, I pulled the barrette out of my hair, ripping out quite a few strands in the process. I tried to get settled back in bed, but I couldn't seem to get the pillow right (it kept pressing against that spot) and ended up shivering, dizzy, and violently ill until around 6:00 this morning when I finally moved to the green chair where I could sleep sitting up, my the side of my head resting against the wing portion of the chair.

If shaving my head would help, I think I would do it...using wigs for went I am in public and just my bald head at home.

But...while barrettes and bobbypins and hairbands all make me ill if they rest against that spot...so do pillows. So being bald would be of no help in that situation.

I tried to discover why this is happening. Yet, three doctor's visits, one x-ray, and one MRI later, no one can tell me what is wrong with the back of my head. I am careful to avoid it, but then time goes by and I forget.

Being ill for hours on end is such a harsh reminder.

All things being equal, I believe the phone interview went well. I was surprised at the amiable nature of the hiring manager and enjoyed our short conversation. He did say that he was interested in a quick hire, so he would have his in-person interviews next week and a hire the week thereafter. At least this time, I should not have to wait very long before knowing if there is hope with this prospect.

~~~~
I wanted to try to explain a new source of pain that has been my companion for a few months now. If you make a fist with your hand, you will see the large knuckles at the base of your fingers sticking out. On my left hand, the knuckle at the base of my index finger (that is your first finger, right?) has started hurting. What is strange about that? Well, the pain often feels as if someone is trying to separate that knuckle from the one next to it, perhaps from the rest of my hand.

When I grip something, the pain is hurts so much that I find myself trying to adjust my grip. The result is that I have dropped more things, breaking some of them, than I care to admit. I find holding the steering wheel difficult, and I worry that I sometimes find myself paying more attention to trying to find a comfortable grip than my actual driving.

All in all, while some times I can just cast it up what my life is about...rising to the challenge of dealing with chronic illness. However, some times, I want to kick and scream and say it just isn't fair. Challenges, smallenges! Pain just plain stinks! I am tired of turning the other cheek to a body that is far too old for not quite 40!

Why write of this now? Today has been the most painful day that I have had in a while. I will be glad when it is over...

I finished another chapter on my novel today, dropped off some donations, and studied up for my interview tomorrow.

~~~~
Kashi has not really gained ground, but neither has he lost. One, two, three days in a row, he will eat a meal, enabling me to get his medicine down his rather reluctant throat. Then he will not eat for a day...or two.

I must confess that, despite my concern for him, I am reveling in the fact that he has started sleeping with me again. There is just something quite comforting in having a dog curled up against your back as you sleep.

I thought I would get this whole resolution thing off with a bang, so I started the spreadsheet of all the books in my house. Of course, I started with the built-in shelves right next to the couch which are in reach of my favorite unemployed perch.

Well, 92 entries later, I am quite tired of the whole project and have not even finished the bookshelf. I have two shelves to go before I could cross this particular area of my home off the project list.

When I think about how much longer it will take to get all the other books down and then do the index cards I have, I am wondering when I will have time to do anything else. However, if I get into the math thing...doing about 75 entries a week should get the job done. Since I logged that much in today, then I can get going on my other resolutions the rest of the week, eh?

Right!

WARNING: Discussion of New Year's Resolutions


Last night (this morning) when I finished all the cleaning, I was almost ready to stop working when I thought about the clothes in the basement bedroom. The closet is full of blazers, slacks, and suits of smaller sizes...clothes I dream of fitting back into...clothes that I wore quite comfortably before I first started taking prednizone for the severe asthma attacks. Within a month of taking that drug, I had ballooned sixty pounds...and have struggled with my weight ever since. The final tally was finding myself nearly 100 pounds heavier than before I got asthma...then arthritis.

Well, I have stopped taking steroids and would be hard pressed to put them into my body again. I am down 46 pounds. And I am making a concerted effort to continue that trend, despite having what could possibly be labeled the world's slowest metabolism. However, given my earlier battle with anorexia (decades ago but that disease is such a stealthy thing), I do not believe that I should really try to get back down to a size six on a 5 foot 7 inch frame. So, I decided to donate all that professional ware (with the exception of my absolute all time favorite black, pin-striped suit) to Dress for Success, a non-profit that helps women dress professionally for job interviews. After much choosing, I came up with 32 pieces of clothing. I bagged them up, drafted a item description, and took them to the drop-off site today. A long goodbye for me...a good thing for those women.

So, where does that fit with New Year's Resolutions?

Well, for starters, I was so exhausted when I finally rolled into be at 6:00 AM (I had gotten up on Saturday at 2:45 PM) that I was in such pain I struggled to fall asleep. Lying there, pain shooting throughout my back and legs, I started thinking about how I should have just written myself a sticky note and popped into bed instead of staying up another 3 and 1/2 hours. I would have had time today to pack up the clothing and still get it to the drop-off place before it closed.

I also thought about the things that I have accomplished and that which I wish I had done in the six months I have been unemployed. So...here goes:

My First New Year's Resolution List As An Adult

1. Read through the bible two times.
2. Continue to memorize a passage of scripture each week.
3. Read an academic book at least once a month to keep my hand in my former profession and feed the scholarly portion of my brain that has been starved of late. [After all, I have a whole closet full of them from my professor days.]
4. Create a spreadsheet of all of my books, with sections for author, title, publication date, genre, reading level, a short annotation, and where they are located in my house (over 2,000 of them among several book shelves).
5. Put all the annotated index cards of children's and young adult books I read working on my Ph.D. into a spreadsheet (over 1,000 of them).
6. Finish my Christian Historical Fiction novel.
7. Write at least another 100 pages on my Young Adult Fantasy novel.
8. Do something as a volunteer (even if it means working on a friend's home improvement project) each month.
9. Stop overworking myself when attacking projects.
10. Reduce, Re-use, and recycle more (especially by changing out some of my regular light bulbs).
11. Visit Skyline Drive.
12. Lose at least 15 more pounds.


Hmmm...do you think I can do it all by December 31, 2007?

What have I done today? Funny you should ask!

I took down the lights, which I might say was quite a bit harder than putting them up. I did carefully fold them back the way that they came and stored them in a plastic container I had purchased along with the lights for just such purpose. Climbing up and down the ladder was harder because the aluminum was much colder. However, I still worked up a good sweat doing the work.

When I had finished, I was on the phone with a friend talking about my financial plight and she asked if there was anything I could sell on e-Bay. I decided that I would not mind selling the two antique butternut chairs that I have had in my attic ever since I moved here. While I inherited them, they are not near and dear to my heart. Butternut is a blonde wood and everything I have is dark. She said that if I would take photos of them, she would ask a friend who had an antique store to price them and would post them for me.

Well, that meant getting out the ladder, which I had already put away in the basement, and carrying it up to the second floor so that I could climb up in the attic. Once I was up there, I discovered that since a piece of wood fell off the bottom of the attic gable vent there was a direct opening to the outside. Not good, eh?

I found a bit of left over framing wood from a window casing in the basement, cut it to size using my free circular saw (I needed two pieces because of the width), and effected a repair to the problem. What was remarkable was that I was able to cut 45 degree angles on the top piece and straight edges on the bottom piece so that the two fit well against the wood frame the handyman had built when installing a gable vent attic fan two summers ago. [We will not focus on the fact that he should have built a longer frame to cover the bottom portion I had to repair.]

Of course, once in the attic, I felt the need to sweep and dust up there so that it was not quite so dirty. Well, then I ended up dusting all three floors of my house which took just over two hours. I do happen to have 40 antique demi-tasse cups on three different shelves. That coupled with all the antique goodies like opera glasses, cameras, tin type photos was the real time killer.

When I finished, I went to put lemon oil on the chairs to clean them up for the photos. Of course, then I was compelled to lemon oil all the antique wooden furniture I have. Once that was done, I noticed how much of my silver needed polishing, so that was my next task. I have many silver spoons for the teacups and more odds and ends such as frames and bookmarks that I realized. My hands were shaking and my legs aching before I finished.

When I was putting all the silver things away, I realized I needed to clean the wood floors that I had skipped after finishing vacuuming yesterday. That took another hour.

All that cleaning resulted in dirty laundry that needed doing between my pants that took care of much of the dirt on the attic floor before I swept, the dust rags, the polish rags, and the hand towels from washing my hands constantly during all that work.

All this, I thought, just to fetch those chairs from the attic!


~~~~
NOTE: My friend D would be proud of my efforts...but I know that she would have found many, many, many more things that needed cleaning here in order to bring my home up to her pristine standards and make my home as beautiful as hers!

I had a wonderful chat with my cousin D tonight. He is one of the most talented and interesting people I have ever met. Sometime I should cajole him into letting me post a few of his photos. What he sees through a camera can still your soul just at the sight of his vision caught by frame. He is also quite intelligent. What I admire most, though, is that he pursues life quite vigorously. It is that reason, therefore, why he is brave to call me. My blues these days are the anti-thesis of his philosophy and wear deeply on his heart. Still, he braves the call to cheer me up by the vitality of his life. Such an act of kindness!

~~~~
The Lakers lost a triple-overtime game in which Kobe Bryant scored 58 points. You know what? I am not surprised. I know that I am not a basketball expert or a coach. But, really folks, someone out to point out to the Lakers that basketball is a TEAM sport. That means, at least at the same time on the court, five individuals are working together to accomplish the win. Whenever one person takes over any type of team...well, that process is never one conducive for success.

~~~~
Saddam Hussein was executed this evening. The New York Times ran an op-ed piece saying the trial was basically a sham and the execution wrong. This man is personally responsible, under his 35-year regime, for nearly 2 million documented deaths. Many believe the actual number will never be known and is thousands and thousands more between the countless people who simply went "missing" and were never heard from again. Over 270 mass graves have been found since he was ousted from office. This man devastated the population of a country that is still torn by the violence he inculcated into his people. Perhaps the end of this man's life might mark a beginning to the healing of a nation bathed in blood.

One Iraqi leader remarked that before there was no hope for a positive future under Saddam and now there was. He noted the uphill battle that remains to shed the culture of violence that has been woven across his country...but there is hope. His only sorrow on the day was that the media was re-playing the footage of Saddam instead of focusing on the millions who lost their lives and the millions more who suffered under his rule. This is their day. And it is they who should be lifted up in prayer.

Seriously...I cannot understand how anyone can come in defense of such a brutal dictator.


NOTE: I take exception to the graphic of Saddam on www.cnn.com. The photo looks as if it is some polished piece of dignified remembrance. It makes him look more like a martyr than the tyrant he was.

This day I have studied the bible, prayed for family, friends, and our nation, played with Kashi, vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen, ran and emptied the dishwasher, updated and organized my warranty information notebooks (4 of them), cleared all the stuff off my stairs (i.e., put it away), filed two months of paperwork; reconciled two months of bank statements, cleaned my office, conducted a job search, applied for five more jobs, and written on my novel.

Is that productive enough for an unemployed bum like myself?

All my thank you notes are in the mail, and I have managed to write a few more pages of my novel...escaping the growing maelstrom of emotions stemming from approaching six months of unemployment and all that means financially and professionally to me. I fear I am growing a bit churlish of late.

Also in the mail is my next health insurance check with the just-announced increase added to the payment. That was a difficult check to write.

I am wondering if I should take down my lights, but they are really one of the few bright spots (pardon the pun) in my life, so I am a bit reluctant to do so. [When is the proper time to take down holiday lights?]

DHL picked up my original laptop this evening. Oh how hard it was to package it up, especially knowing that I will probably never have another wood toned cover since they didn't quite catch on at Dell. It was hard, really hard to let it go, thinking about all the work I accomplished on that machine, all the words I wrote, the dreams I had while using it.

Really, I cannot imagine how writers composed their works before the invention of computers. Pick up a pen, or pencil, to work on a story or article or even a letter and I become a bumbling, fumbling oaf. My thoughts become stilted, and I am wrought with blank-page syndrome. I just cannot compose with said instruments. But place my fingers on a keyboard and magic happens. Characters arise to fill spots I did not yet know I needed oh so perfectly. Personal histories flow forth, action rises and falls, life takes place. Simply put, computers allow access to my heart and mind and soul in a way that pen and paper cannot.

Being able to write whenever or wherever I wanted and to take my photos and design work to share with others on a moment's notice was such a blessing to me when I first got the laptop. And yes, again, it was just so darned beautiful with that cover!

Yet...all things come to an end, do they not? I have been learning that over and over of late. All things. Just because I was not ready for that particular bit of my life to end does not mean that the time was not right for it to happen. I did receive an updated laptop with more memory, a faster duel processor, a widescreen (still not sure about the benefits of feature), a larger hard drive, better built-in speakers, media buttons right on the front of the unit, double the USB ports, and a DVD burner. I ought to be dancing in the streets for such fortune.

Am I being too maudlin about the whole exchange or have I merely become a captious woman?

President Gerald R. Ford died today. My heart grieves for the loss his family has now and that every Christmas going forward will be a reminder of that loss. I hope, though, that perhaps each holiday will be a time to remember a man who was best known for his integrity and his honesty. Really...a politician who was heralded for his honesty!

In reading about him, I was struck by the fact that, while it most likely cost him being elected to office for a second term, his decision to pardon Nixon was in the best interest of a nation whose office of president had taken a brutal hit. In the best interest of a nation...what other politician do you know who has managed to keep the largesse of his role focused properly on serving a nation, not him/herself?

His wife, also, has been heralded for her honesty in coming forward with her addiction and then seeking to help others after she found help herself. The Betty Ford Clinic has been the harbinger of a new future for those struggling with addiction. Instead of hiding such illness, fighting it head on, despite the public cost, is always the healthiest course of action. She gave that gift to a nation.

Together, the two of them have stood as role models for others, always honest, always quick to lend a helping hand. What an incredible testimony!

Gerald Ford did not win a subsequent election, but he continued serving the nation, even becoming a successful team with the man who kept him from office, Jimmy Carter. He gave of his time and wisdom each and every time another president called on him for help.

After playing for the Michigan State Wolverines in college, he received offers from the NFL via the Packers and the Lions. He turned them down to attend Yale law school. That decision led him down a path to one of the most difficult presidencies of our nation's history, between Watergate and Vietnam. However, that decision also garnered the nation a man of grace and probity at just the time it needed one most.

I can only hope that somehow, in some way, men and women of his stature might find their way into office in a time when a nation is suffering from a dearth of politicians who have the courage to put the interests of a nation above their own in the manner of Gerald R. Ford.

I am going to bed now, even though the day for me is not yet half gone. I have been trying to figure out all day why I am so tired, but have come to realize that understanding why really matters very little. The mattress is calling me. I should stop fighting its call.

I think, perhaps, that there is too much trying to understand the "why" in my life just now...

I have spent the day thinking on the truly ineffable concept that God actually came to earth to live in the frail form of man, suffering the limitations and trials that life offers, in order to die for us.

It is strange, I think, that an arbitrary day was chosen to celebrate His birth. It is even stranger that in celebrating His birth, the focus in on a manger, visitors, and gifts. I believe the focus should be on why He came: to die. In order for us to have eternal life, Jesus Christ had to die. In order for Him to die, He had to be born.

Knowing the horror of that death, the agony and heartache He would endure, how then could we--those of us who are Christians--turn Christmas into a time of commercial exchange? Does an iPod represent the magnitude of the gift God gave us in Jesus Christ? Does a bicycle stand as a reminder of His sacrifice?

The wisemen brought gifts in honor of His birth. They saw the signs. They suspected something was special about Him, whether or not they understood He was the Son of God. Later on, a woman gave another gift to honor Christ: she washed His feet with her hair and oil that may very well have cost her everything she had. She sacrificed of herself to the One who was soon to give the ultimate sacrifice. How does a Play Station 3 compare with that?

Oh, how I like presents. Anyone who knows me, knows that I most enjoy giving presents and receiving them. Frankly, I think the best gifts are given "just because"--not for an "occasion." For a while now, however, I have wanted to eschew all gifts at Christmas. I have wanted this time to be a time of reflection on the magnitude of the presence of Jesus Christ in this world rather than who gave whom what.

But...how do you go against the mighty commercial machine that this holiday has become?

~~~~
NOTE: Am I a hypocrite because I plan to watch the Cowboy game tomorrow? If this really is not the actual day of Christ's birth, does it matter? After all, this time of Winter Solstice has long be a time of pagan celebrations marked by drunkeness, revelry, and debauchery. Consider the Romans holiday of Saturnalia. Should Christians really have chosen this time to mark the birth of Christ? Perhaps February 25th might have been a better date? You know, understanding the tendency of man toward idolatry, it is no surprise that God has not made it evident exactly what day of the year His son was born. Still, worship in the wee hours of the morning for me, then gobbling sumptious food, then football revelry. What sort of day is that???????

I have been sitting on the couch with tears streaming down my cheeks for a while now. I am tired. I still feel absolutely awful about running over D's mailbox. I am drowning in debt. I see no hope for a job. I am lonely. I am grieving the loss of the relationship with my mother, but I see no hope for change their either because she believes me to be an abuser. I want to be loved. I want to be accepted. I want to belong. I want to contribute. I want to give back. Yet...all I can do is help a few people with home improvement projects. I am a lousy beacon for Christ.

I have been awash in sorrow and pain since I awoke. I have been praying for the lesson in this, thinking that I just must be oh so dense. If God is sovereign--which I believe Him to be--then He is sovereign in unemployment. It is hard, however, to remember that when thinking on the debt that is piling up and the mortgage payments looming and the increase in health insurance premiums just announced and...and...and everything.

I have been sitting here trying to find some balance when someone knocked at the door. It was a mailman with a package from my dear friend T. I signed for it, but he wasn't done with me.

He asked me where her city was and I replied that I think it is near Altoona because she talks about that exit on the highway. He then said his brother's son when to college at Penn State and talked all about that area. I told him that I didn't really know where she lived, but that she was an ex-student of mine. He wanted to know what I taught. I told him I was no longer a teacher, but I that I used to teach literacy. He was immediately awed that I could write, could master the English language because knowing how to communicate was so important in our society. I replied that while some say it is, in reality, it is not. Books and newspapers are published with mistakes. My company hired me to be their voice and then fired me just when they needed a spokesperson most. Emails and press releases and letters are sent with horrible misuse of the English language...and NOBODY CARES. I care, but that does not matter. I care about what does not matter and have no job and no prospects of finding a place where what I am skilled at is desired. He asked me where I went to school. I told him first Baylor, then I was a missionary in Africa, then UNC at Chapel Hill, then The Ohio State University. He was awed again that I had lived in Africa, what I had most assuredly seen. How brave I was for going and caring. I replied that no one cared when I got back. I left a war zone. The people I had been working with and cared about were dying and no one cared once I came back. I told him that while I know Katrina was awful, Turkey has an earthquake where 100,000 people die and no one cares. He replied that the same was true in India. But, he said, God was going to bless me. I replied that while I knew God was sovereign, it was a battle for me to understand why unemployment would be the right course for me after six month, why when working so hard to be a good steward and become debt free, that I would find myself mired in debt, why when I did care about literacy, there was no place for me, why I couldn't even find a church or a place to be around other Christians who actually enjoyed studying the bible and praying and memorizing scripture rather than reading and teaching and praising the latest Christian "how-to" band wagon...promise keepers, prayer of Jabez, purpose-driven life. He agreed that the hunger for Christ seemed to be subsumed by the hunger for a "good" or "successful" life in the church around here. But...But...

But...he finished by saying...in absolute conviction that even I could see through my tears...that God was going to bless me. He was going to bless me the way that he had been blessed this day by getting out of the post office and delivering a package that had been discovered fallen behind a bench and had not made it out on the truck. He was blessed by me and knew I would soon be too.

I walked back inside, sobored by the reminder that God knows my tears...

I wanted to write more of my visit with my friend D, but each time I try, the words pale in comparison to the thoughts I have.

Never have I met a woman who savors the lives of her children as does D. Even in the midst of the chaos that can come with one who is 5, one who is 3 and one who is but a few months old, she walks with a calm certitude that stems from the fact that even the stressful is beautiful. It is beautiful because of the absolute blessing her children are to her.

D is amazing. There is no other way to put it. What she can do with an infant in her arms is amazing. For example, our first night together D made a garlic and brown-sugar glazed chicken for us and another meal for her children all the while holding baby M. I just watched in awe and then promptly scarfed down the delicious meal.

She certainly does not fret the small stuff, which is clearly evident in how she is raising her children. She is their authority and obedience is their choice, with straightforward consequences for disobedience. Yet, if they want to lie on the table reading a book while she is cooking, that is absolutely fine (her table is this marvelous square version of a farmhouse table). After all, what harm is done by them lying atop the table? They do not do it elsewhere, but at home, the table just one of the many "hearths" around which this young family gathers.

Her house is oh so clean. Her children are hale and hearty. Good food is plentiful. And their home is filled with love and laughter and acceptance for all.

Most certainly, it was an honor and a privilege to be with her this week. I am humbled by what I experienced and do not believe I will ever lose sight of the "rightness" of family I observed while there. This is how it can be and should be...for sure.

Would you believe that while backing out of the driveway from D's house after a most lovely visit that I actually knocked over her mailbox?

Sounds crazy, right?

Nope...I did that. ARGH!!!!

I thought I was backing up straight. Evidently I was not.

Essentially overdosing while I was supposed to be helping. Breaking the handprints of her children while crafting. Then knocking over the mailbox. Sometimes...those holes to crawl into are just never around.

~~~~
NOTE: Navigation units work better when you actually follow the directions. In case you were wondering, the re-routing feature on the Magellan Roadmate 6000T works just fine. And...with two wrong turns between my house and D's, the travel time increases from 90 minutes to 120.

I think that I tried to committ death by pain killer today.

This morning, I took a much needed dose of Midol at the same time as I took my arthritis medicine Celebrex. In short order, I started feeling rather badly. I grew worse and worse and began to wonder if I should ask D to drag me to the hospital.

I was dizzy and sick to my stomach and my head was pounding and so cold I could barely stand it. With little choice, I huddled beneath three blankets on the couch and tried to keep my moaning to once or twice every twenty or so minutes. After all, I didn't want D to think she had yet another child to deal with on her hands.

After a few hours, Kashi needed to go outside, so I let him drag me around by the leash. When we returned, I realized I felt a wee bit better. I figured the fresh air did me some good and wondered if there was something in her house that was bothering me. Of course, I have grown up with Christmas trees even if I have not had one myself in recent years. And D is the cleanest person I know. So...what could it be?

In the late afternoon, she enlisted me to help her with crafts, despite my still frequent moans and trembling limbs. I squinted against my throbbing head, clamped my lips shut against my still protesting stomach, and tried not to move too quickly as to guard against the waves of dizziness.

By late evening, when we started painting (yes, I have now painted in three states), I realized that the need for emergency care was passing. I was going to live.

In retrospect, perhaps taking two strong pain killers at once was not quite the best plan...no matter how good it sounded to me at the time.

I am in Maryland today. And boy do I love that navigation unit!

I plugged in my friend's address and away I went. The trip I thought would take two and a half hours took only 90 minutes. There was only one confusing turn: the voice directions seemed a bit different from the map screen. I arrived safely and in an expeditious manner!

My friend D has a new baby and operates a day care business out of her home. So there are plenty of children here for me to photograph and to keep Kashi busy. Right now, he has retreated to the back corner by the garage out of exhaustion. I had D's amazing brown sugar, garlic glazed chicken for dinner. And I have already had plenty of holding-the-baby-time. Her husband is out of town for a few day, so my menagerie and I arrived to help hold down the fort. The fact that I am being stuffed with food, have offers of all left overs, and other groceries to boot has nothing to with why I am here (wink, wink)!

D's daughter is a cherub of a child, rosebud lips, round cheeks, and brilliant blue eyes (perhaps she will give Paul Newman a run for his money). I haven't yet seen my friend B's new baby boy, but at least I will have plenty of baby time this week!

I did receive an email from the American Diabetes Association to request a phone interview this week and samples of my writing. I promptly emailed back when I read the message this evening. [She has a wireless environment, which I always highly appreciate.] I truly do not like phone interviews because I feel so incredibly awkward and strange trying to get to know someone over the phone. However, it appears that the interview will be with the VP of internal communications. The position is: Community and Volunteer Communications Manager. I answered six essay questions the first week of August as a part of this interview process. I was actually surprised to just now be receiving a response from them.

On the computer front, I have just the software, batteries, and two cables to go. I received part of the power cord, the floppy drive, and a new case yesterday. The case is larger since the computer is larger and, consequently, heavier. However, I need to keep reminding myself to be thankful that I had the maintenance plan that makes an exchange possible when my other laptop decided that it was an oven.

I am most proud of myself for finally figuring out how to reformat the hard drive and then re-install Windows. For security purposes, I wanted to wipe my information before I returned the computer, even though it will not be sent out again since Dell considered it a physical risk. However, for the sake of honesty, I will admit that it took me approximately one and a half hours to get to the point to where I could start the reformatting process. To do so, I had to get the computer to boot from the CD-rom drive. To do that, I had to push the F12 button at just the right time as the computer restarted. After successfully getting the timing down, I had to wait for Windows to scan the system, and then put in the administrator password. Well, I had changed the password so that my password wouldn't be going back to Dell. I put in the new password, and it did not work. I kept trying, so after the third invalid attempt, it kicked me back out to a normal start. I had to wait for it to finish starting up, restart the computer, push F12 at just the right time, and then try again on the password. It was three rounds, with interminably long waits for the system parameters scan, before I figured out it wanted the old password. Finally, I could reformat the drive.

So, you see, can't you? You see why I am proud of being able to wipe my personal information?

Six more resumes went out the "door" this evening. One was an interesting position in that it was 25% office management and 75% communications for an organization that funds solar energy projects in third world countries. I could get behind that rather easily. However, all were in the heart of the city, which means wicked commutes.

~~~~
The Cowboys won yesterday! Woo Hoo! They have also clinched a playoff berth! Double Yahoo!

Of course, the Giants and Eagles won last week when the Cowboys lost, so they are only one game ahead now of the Eagles, who beat the Giants this afternoon. Next week, the Cowboys have to get on down to it and beat the Eagles. Then they can enjoy an easy final game win against Detroit.

~~~~
Tiger Woods won today. Beautiful shots and creative saves. His winnings, over a million dollars, went to his learning center in LA. The proceeds for the event went to his foundation. What a path he walks...brilliance the world has never seen on the golf course and a burden for his fellow man that marks his journey day to day. He plans and purposes to leverage his fame and his income to help provide a better tomorrow by reaching out to those who can best effect true change: the youth of today.

I spent the afternoon and evening with my writing student's family, marshalling the troops to clean while her mother was at work...and playing games.

Those brilliant kids learned a new game and promptly started beating me at it. Set has four variables players have to consider as they try to find sets in the common cards on the table. It is actually quite a cognitive challenge.

Where else, though, can I go where I can pit my brain against truly brilliant ones playing games that I enjoy?

We played Quiddler and Quorridor as well. We played and encouraged each other and applauded the winner.

Oh...and we also ate the best steak her father has ever cooked in my presence!

It was a good day.

I learned that the FBI position has been canceled. Six and a half hours of writing essays...all for naught.

Kashi's vet called and she wants to do some more tests on Kashi. He is eating some now, so perhaps whatever was bothering him is passing. He is, however, still quite clingy, which for him is completely out of the norm.

I am still trying to get the computer together, the software that is. I did figure out how to save my email messages, so I was able to transfer those. The browser bookmarks have been exported. The files have been transferred as well. I am just missing the software that I was given when I left my job. I asked the IT manager to please send me the media, but he has not done so.

I did have a successful navigation event today. Well...mostly successful.

I was at my father's house and wanted to drop something off at my writing student's house on the way home. Our three houses make something of a triangle on the map and I wanted to find a way to her house that did not include just driving to my house, then hers, then back to mine.

The navigation unit took me on this convoluted path through many unknown roads...but it worked. It did have me do a U-turn that was just silly since I could have turned in the right direction in the first place. I also seemed to make the wrong turn twice even though I was following directions. However, since I had a map on the screen that I could look at, I figured out what I needed to do to get back on the route. So, it really was a success.

Before going inside my writing student's house, I stopped to pray for a while. I just cannot express how thankful I am for a means to get this system. I hated getting lost, the panic, the shame, the frustration. I know that navigation units have glitches and funny directions and are not perfect. But having one is an absolute solace to me.

Miracles of Miracles, I actually made my way to a customer service executive at the Dell headquarters who was appalled at the trouble I am having just trying to finish the system exchange.

I received another "tech support" email today claiming that there was no exchange on my account, that I had a refurbished system, and that it was not a customer service problem.

I promptly burst into tears.

I called the number they give if you know someone's extension and just started pressing "O" until I got through to someone. Gasping over my tears, I choked out that while I knew she was not the person I needed (she was in small business sales), I was desperate for help. She listened for a while, put me on hold, and then came back with her boss's personal email. She said to send all the messages to him and he would pass them on to someone who would do something.

Just over two hours later, the executive called, apologized all over the place, and asked if it would be convenient for me to work with her to resolve everything. Three phone calls later, I believe the floppy drive is being sent, two new batteries are on their way, tech support is burning a disk with the reinstallation information, and as a small token of her regret over my discomfiture, she is adding a new laptop case since the exchange system will not fit in my old case.

Oh, there is light at the end of the tunnel.

I did try to share the wealth a bit. My best friend B has been trying to get a rebate for over a year and a half. I asked the executive if she could help her, and she promised to reimburse the payment method (i.e., credit card used) on her order if she would supply the order number and the customer number. Hopefully, B will finally see her money!

Brinks came back and repaired the repaired system, so all is well there.

The UPS driver actually told me that he did not find the package until 9:00 the previous night because it was stuck behind the seat (and drenched with water). How curious...he keyed into the system that he was at my house at 7:35 PM.

Still no sign of tape or marinade.

After waiting all day for a package, calling UPS several times before I was told that I just had to wait until after 8:30 PM, I hit refresh on the tracking screen to see that the driver had said that there was no one home to accept the package. It did not require a signature. I was home. He never came. There was no notice on my door. I called UPS and was told that they go by what is "in the system." Much tears were shed in my utter frustration. That the driver lied in the system precludes me from at least recovering the shipping charges. The package was software that I need to try and finish restoring my profile on the "exchange" laptop.

I have multiple case numbers, even more supervisor numbers, and no one from Dell who will help me with the missing components of this "even exchange" of my laptop. I have only two days left before I have to return my original system, and all my emails only result in automatic responses. More tears of frustration.

I waited all day for Brinks to come and repair the alarm system. Two hours of service later, the technician left around 6:00. Less than 10:00 minutes after he left, the system alarm started sounding a trouble alarm...I can turn it off, but it comes back on shortly. I couldn't get ahold of the technician who left. The "emergency" technician never returned my call. My plans for a night out were blown. Many, many more tears of frustration.

To top it all off, I have somehow managed to lose the Mexican dry rub marinade that I bought for the chicken. I have a tiny gallery style kitchen and it is not to be found anywhere. The tape has not shown up either.

This has been a multiple Dr. Pepper day.

I swear I would lose my head if it were not attached. I know that sounds crazy, or at least a bit extreme, but really...I would.

I bought some scotch tape yesterday to use while wrapping Dad's gifts for him. Today, I got most of the way through when I no longer could find the tape. I looked on the floor, in the boxes, beneath the table, in the kitchen, in the study, in the bathroom, and even outside where the recycling bin is (I had brought it in from the curb earlier. I am NOT going back to Target for tape. I WILL find it!

~~~~
NOTE: Wal-Mart has this great, lighted deer for $20 that would look oh, so perfect in my yard!

Dad and I are on our fourth movie. Thus far, we have watched Under Suspicion, You've Got Mail, and Quicksand. We are now beginning Primal Fear.

Dad came over so that I could take him shopping for my two nephews. I must say, I rather enjoyed spending his money. We go beginner books, Thomas the Train movie and music DVD's, Spiderman pajamas, matching sports outfits, matching rugby shirts, socks, Matchbox cars, and a Leapad book. They boys usually do not get many toys, so this was a good mix of enjoyable educational stuff, clothing, and a wee bit of entertainment.

Unfortunately, my father got lost on the way over (something that happens more and more frequently). He called and told me where he was, but I didn't recognize the descriptors he was giving me. I called my writing student's mother, and low and behold she came to the rescue for both of us and pointed me in the perfect direction.

I showed my father my new navigation system, which he thought was great...that is...until it froze on me. I had to wait until we got home to learn how to reset the device. The tech support guy was from India and there was a severe language barrier. He heard the birds in the background and kept telling me the system would work outside. I kept telling him it froze while I was on the highway. Dad raised his eyebrows further and further as I raised my voice louder and louder. Hopefully, tomorrow's demonstration will be more facile for him. I am trying not worry about the unit freezing, because I have heard that many of them do that. We shall keep our fingers crossed...I am so thankful each time I lay eyes upon the thing that I might never know the fear and confusion of being lost and unable to figure out what to do next again.

After shopping, we came home and I started loading software on the replacement system Dell sent. It is an Inspiron 1505, when I had a 600m. It has a widescreen, is larger and heavier, and does not have the features of my other system. So...do I get in a dispute with Dell or admit defeat now? My laptop case will not even fit with this one. ARGH!

Hours and hours later, I have only part of the software installed and have done countless updates for what has been installed. DOUBLE ARGH!

However, I can say that this laptop is not overheating like mine. Oughtn't that count for something?

I did cook my Chicken Enchiladas for my father, along with homemade refried beans and corn. I used some of the Archer Farms Mexican dry rub marinade in the beans and the corn. In the latter, I put some of the herbs into a pan and roasted them (I saw Emeril do that once) before adding salt and butter. Only then did I add the corn, mixing it all and heating it thoroughly. Dad was so stuffed (he finished the corn first) that he actually turned down the cookies I had made for him: butterscotch oatmeal.

So, here we are, two lumps on a couch (he is in the green chair) fully engaged in our current movie-thon. I wonder how many movies we can get in tomorrow before my step-mother calls to demand he return home...

~~~~
NOTE: Also, for the sake of honesty, I will admit that I had told my writing student's mother that I would come over and slave labor for her today. Yet...I COMPLETELY forgot that I had made plans for her until the moment she rather gently reminded me after letting me know where she thought my father might be. I felt horrible. Dad called and asked for help, and I responded with a quick assent, believing that I had nothing more to do than to continue my frustrating job search. Oh, how wrong I was. I will have to find a way to make it up to her...

Such sorrow, eh? The Cowboys (along with the Colts and Patriots) learned the hard lesson that victory does not come easy. Still, dealing well with adversity is proof of a good team. The thing to do is see how the Cowboys bounce back against Atlanta this week.

Alas, I will not be able to see the game since some cruel person decided to move late season Thursday and Saturday games to the NFL network. It would cost me an additional $13 a month to get it from my cable company (if I did the math right). Although, to be fair I must admit that in doing so I would also get the Golf Channel, something I have been yearning to view.

Well, my life, as I knew it, has changed.

Tonight, I experienced a fluffernutter sandwich for the very first time. Wow! Who knew that they put marshmallows in a jar? I wonder what genius gave spark to such a wonderful idea!

I was mostly full from eating more chicken enchiladas this afternoon, so I thought I would just have a sandwich. When I went to Target, I saw a jar of fluff and bought it because my friend W had once waxed poetically about the savory delights of fluffernutter sandwiches. At the time, I didn't understand what she was talking about because I did not know what fluff was. When she mentioned it again this week, I asked her about fluff and she told me what it was. I still didn't really understand what she meant. Now I do.

Of course, I am even more stuffed than this afternoon. Yet...can I really complain? Health nuts the world over are shuddering at the thought of a peanut butter sandwich with softened marshmallow cream, but...hey...sometimes the fat and calories and carbohydrates are really, really, really worth it!

I made chicken enchiladas using the recipe my writing student's sister followed earlier this week. In doing so, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I could replicate her success. I did make a couple of changes, though.

I found some Mexican dry rub marinade spices at Target, made by Archer Farms. It comes in a type for chicken and a type for beef. So, I rub some of the spices on the chicken and then drizzled olive oil over it before sauteing it in a pan. The spices were an added cook to the overall taste, if you ask me.

I also put a handful of cheese inside before wrapping them like burritos (they fit in the pan better that way).

All in all...a rather tasty meal, if you ask me:

~~~~

Chicken Enchiladas


Ingredients:
3 chicken breasts
Salt and pepper
1 small can chopped green chilies
1 10 oz can evaporated milk
1 10 oz can enchilada sauce
10 or so flour tortillas
Cheese (preferably Monterey jack)

Directions:
First salt and pepper the chicken and then cook it in a frying pan with a bit of olive oil. Then put it in the quisenart or blender and grind it up (or you can pull it with a fork). Then mix in the chilies. Mix together the Evap. Milk and Enchilada sauce. Roll up about 3-4 spoonfuls of chicken into each tortilla and pour over enchilada sauce mixture. And top with cheese. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes.

I got an email from a VP at the Red Cross today. He had just received my resume and wanted to know if I still wanted to be considered for the position. The funny thing is that I had sent in my resume for the position in August!

I wonder if I will be called in for an interview...

I am quite tired of being unemployed. I know...I know I should savor the time to write and be with Kashi. I know I should not worry. I believe God is sovereign and sovereign even in this time. I know this to be true. I just wish my feelings would more closely align with my knowledge!

I spent the day helping out my writing student's mother. I helped marshall the troops to clean up her house, well 4 of the 5 kids. The youngest son was the star trooper of the day, not only pitching in, but not complaining about any of the work.

The kitchen cabinets, drawer, and refrigerator were cleaned out, as was the linen closet and chest by the front door. Personally, I would mind borrowing all the helpers to plow through my own closets and drawers.

I enjoyed helping out, but I am totally and completely shagged. Cleanliness is hard work!

~~~~
If you didn't notice, pigs were flying last Friday night!

I actually received the gift certificates from Capital One. I opened the package and then promptly placed the order for the navigation system. Today, after programming in my friend's addresses into the unit, I used it to drive over my writing student's house to see how it works. I cannot begin to tell you how good I felt following the directions.

I am hoping that the frightening times of being lost on the road are a thing of the past for me now.

The interview went fairly well, and I felt a wee bit better about the company than I had anticipated. The two women with whom I met were kind and welcoming. The latter was quite honest in some of the pitfalls of the job. I would not be doing any design work for them as they outsource all of that. Text only in provided templates.

I supposed I could find some measure of satisfaction being basically a hired pen for the Environmental Protection Agency (their biggest client), but this job really would be a step off a communications career path.

I would be very surprised if this were a door the Lord opens for me. Surprised and flummoxed. Could you imagine working with science researchers day in and day out???????

But, alas, actually getting a job would be rather good just now. [SIGH]

~~~~
Today, I returned some pants that were a year old (but never worn since I discovered a stripe down the side of them when I got home...I sort of kept forgetting to visit the store), cashed in all my coupons that I had been hoarding (Chico's sends you $10 on your b-day, the magazine had a $50 coupon, and my regular shopgal sends me $10 periodically to lure me back into the store), and ended up with three jackets (two blazers one Mandarins style) that can be worn with several of my existing slacks and skirts) for the grand old total of a nickel.

Since I am now better set in professional attire...that job should be just around the corner, eh?

~~~~
Kashi surprised me by eating twice more late this evening. He kept barking at me, so I fed him two more meals, three tablespoons each. Of course, he then spent about an hour and a half whimpering.

I wonder if he ate too much...even if all three meals were less than he usually eats in a day.

I have been prepping for my interview tomorrow. After reading through every page of the website (should I get this position there would be a HUGE learning curve), I made the following notes to share my "thoughts" about the company:


“Children’s Health Protection”
Does this work also entail targeting the “next generation” itself? Children are increasingly becoming accustomed to “necessities” that are a key factor in environmental stress and conservation obstacles (disposable technology, plastic ‘everything,’ etc.). Many schools have successful recycling programs, and often youth have picked up on this campaign and enlarged the practice or brought light to the need in their larger community. However, given the lack of science and math progress in American schools, providing pedagogical tools, training, and methodologies directly to educators, targeting the public, private, and home school market, could help alleviate these issues in the future since water, energy, and environment issues are heavy on math and science. Think of the impact of just one school district that adopted the change a light campaign from the classroom to the boardroom to the home.

In short, we would grow a generation of “tree huggers” who learn to ask the tough questions from the moment they begin their studies. What is the real cost of bottled water? What happens to those computers and cell phones we toss aside for the new models? Who is responsible for responsible waste measures?

“Plain Language documents”
Are these for small business owners only or do you provide materials for employees, those on the front lines implementing conservation measures? Do these documents take into account “ESL” factors given the diversity in American small business?

Methodological Rapprochement
I am curious as to the qualitative research measures undertaken by Cadmus. I would have expected quantitative methodologies, especially statistical analysis, but what sources of “rich” data are gathered and utilized?

Cadmus Website
Have you considered having real world examples (sample surveys, reports, etc.) on your website? Have you considered having an informative section with links to ESH research, agencies, and news?


Hmm...will they be impressed by my abilility to think critically on short notice?

Is this not a great day?

Oh, my 'Boys stepped up to the plate and put away the Giants in a nail-biter of a game. I was worried. It was a slugfest where neither team could really pull ahead. At the end there, however, Romo fired a ground devouring bullet to put them in field goal position. Gramatica then stepped up to the plate and booted the ball straight through the uprights to deliver a win for the Cowboys.

Woohoo! Yippee!

I am quite thrilled that they won. I reveled in gazing upon the standings to see the Cowboys right atop their division with a two game lead over our nearest competitor--the competitor whose hopes we had just squashed. And I savored the Cowboy highlights during the day's recap.

Having been a faithful Cowboy fan through our recent challenges, I am glad that we now have a few bright spots to celebrate...and celebrate with hope for the future.

Loyalty and patience do have their reward!

I received a call asking me if I was interested in an interview.

An interview? Yes. But why this company?

The job is a writer/editor position for a consulting company with clients in the energy, water, and conservation industries.

You might think I've lost my marbles, but I am extremely intimidated at the thought of being a "writer" for a living. I mean, I write nearly every day. I write here on this blog and a few others. I write email. I write poetry. I write stories. I write novels.

In my past job, I wrote letters, reports, press releases, article, strategic plans, policies, ads, invitations, website text, marketing collateral, etc. As a professor, I wrote articles, book chapters, lesson plans, lectures, etc.

In short, I have been crafting the written word with care since the seventh grade (the first time I ever submitted a piece of writing for publication).

But this would be different. I would be "The Writer." Someone presented to client after client to meeting their messaging needs. I have never been a journalist. I have never wanted to be...mostly because I have little confidence that I could succeed at doing so.

I am grateful for the opportunity at a job...I am just nervous about a possible positive outcome!

I have lights!

It is strange, but the first three holiday seasons that I was a homeowner, I somehow did not managed to put up lights. I really like lights and find them rather cheering on an otherwise dreary winter day.

So, I decided that I get out the old charge card and treat myself to a small set of lights. I strung white lights along the fence, on the bushes in the front yard, and around the trunk of my crape myrtle tree. I put colored lights in the top of the tree, but if you look carefully, the top fourth of the tree is barren. Even standing on a step-ladder, I could not quite reach high enough. Being somewhat of a perfectionist, I would have preferred to have the lights go up to the top of the tree. I also wanted them up on the roofline, but I am quite nervous about standing on the extension ladder. However, despite these minor imperfections, I am quite pleased that I have lights!

They look mighty good with the small Christmas tree in the yard, eh?

Kashi is not sure what he thinks of them. When I opened the door, he was rather reluctant to go outside so that we could take our walk. When we arrived back at the house, I had to practically drag him up to the front door. Perhaps he will get used to them...