One of these nights...

One of these nights I'm gonna write something absolutely amazing and powerful and I'm really looking forward to it.

So far, I haven't figured out what that is, exactly... but I'm okay with that.  I'll keep on writing until I do.

I'd love to write more, and really, I DO write more than I post on this blog because I prefer not to just throw everything I think onto a blog like a diary for everyone in the universe to read.  I work a lot, and I love what I do 99.44% of the time but I would love to have more time to write.  I spend too much time trying to make money. Well, I might as well while I'm able and my kids aren't little anymore so that I can retire before I die.  I tell people I write every chance I get but it's really not true.  If it were true, I'd have a lot more material to read.  I have many, many stories in my head that I really should put into writing, because I know I'm not going to live forever (at least not in this realm, and I'm not sure how much of my brain will make it through the life I'm living now) and I don't want the stories and characters to die with me. After I'm gone my kids can pass this stuff on to other people, or just give them away, but hopefully, I'll get some of them out into the world and let the universe decide whether they're worth keeping.

There were also people who once walked this earth and not just through my brain whose stories shouldn't be forgotten either.  Those who passed after about 2005 will have more information about them on the Internet for future generations than those who passed before that, and there are stories in the old newspapers and databases for those who wish to look for those folks.  Still there are people who lived quiet and simple lives, whose stories weren't compelling Nicholas Sparks novel fodder (or even Lifetime movie fodder), who've left serious marks on the manuscript of my own life.  My grandmother was one... one of her father's seventeen children as well as one of her mother's eleven.  Her oldest sister Lorene was evidently unable to bear children of her own, but I never, ever heard her complain about that, or talk about it at all.  I never asked her why she didn't have children, maybe because I was afraid to bring it up.  Her husband had lost two children in the Christmas Eve crash that claimed his first wife and left him with only his son. Maybe she figured it might've been better to have had no children at all.  His son gave her four step-grandchildren that she dearly loved in her own quiet way.  She wasn't the kind of grandmother who took the kids to Opryland (actually they didn't have that on either side, but all their grandparents cared for them very much) but she baked them goodies and visited them and kept an eye on them and probably went to graduations and things like that, I don't remember.  She also kept a lot of other relatives, like me. 

She, like Granny, had a portrait of a handsome young man I never had the privilege to know, my uncle Olie.  His death at age 18 was one of those events you see in movies, where a local teenager gets really sick (or has an accident or gets shot or... you get the picture) and dies young and the whole town shuts down for the funeral.  But before I knew all that about the town's reaction, I knew that my grandmother and all her family lost a dear brother, son, grandson, and uncle.  I guess because he didn't live long enough to have children and grandchildren of his own, I felt sort of obligated to keep his memory alive.  I think others in my family might've felt that way too.  For example, my uncle Lanny put a new headstone on Olie's grave.  Lanny was just a little fella when Olie died; I think he was about 3.

These are just a few of the stories I'd like to share, as well as some of the fictional characters I've created over the years.  Some of my characters are loosely based on real people and real events, but in general most are purely made up.  Here's an example of that:  I used to wonder what it would've been like if Lorene and her first husband had adopted a child, or had a baby late in life. Everette was only in his early 40s when he died, so he would've died very early in this baby's life.  I came up with a lot of good stories and characters from that "what if" story. Many of my stories are "what ifs" or at least they start out that way.  I do a lot of research into the past to find details and ideas.  Like looking at Olie's death certificate and obituary. 

I need to be looking at the inside of my eyelids.  Gotta go make that money while it's there.

Just remember I love you, more than I can say... maybe then your blues will fade away

And I almost titled this one "Your Love Has Lifted Me Higher," because it was out that year.  I was just tired of looking for a more appropriate title from the year in my mind. 

In 1977, I turned ten. My world was pretty small. I was born in Nashville but I lived just north of the county line in Ridgetop.  I thought Nashville was a pretty important place, like Chicago or New York.  I had no idea that there were bigger places in the world, though I had heard of far-away cities like New York and Atlanta.  I had been to the ocean in North Carolina, which made me a little different from my classmates who went to PCB every couple of years.

Two girls moved in up the road from my grandparents' house in the mid '70s.  They were from Seattle, which was way, way up in the return address corner of the United States.  Looking at it on the globe, it looked like it would be much colder, and I learned that sometimes it was, but they had a lot of weather similar to ours in Tennessee with sunshine and rain.  Humidity was something else.  It's still something else, let me tell you.

Looking back, I never began to comprehend what it must have been like to be a newcomer in a town like Ridgetop.  Having moved out of town a few times since then, I feel a little sorry about that. Everybody in Ridgetop must have seemed to be related. They moved to a house on a hill, a house built by my grandmother's family when she was a little girl and their old house on that same location burned.  From the front yard one could see eight houses.  I had relatives in two of those houses, my grandmother and her cousin Jerry.  Another neighbor was my aunt's sister-in-law.  She grew up there too.

That summer the neighbor girls' dad was transferred and they returned to Seattle.  Elvis died, Star Wars premiered, and other things happened that stamped the year in my memory. One happened to my brother.  Mom took him to day care, where he refused to drink the milk.  They thought he was just "faking" when he said he was allergic.  He obeyed.  He vomited.  Mom found another babysitter quick, cousin Jerry's wife Wanda.  Mom hadn't considered really thought of her earlier because she seemed to keep a lot of kids and had her hands full.  To my knowledge though, she never lost any!  At first I stayed by myself at my grandmother's house that summer, but there was some family trouble going on (other unforgettable events I don't want to write about tonight, and a few I didn't really understand) so I started going to Wanda's too.  I think she saw me as another big kid who could help with the little ones, like her younger brother and nephews who dropped in frequently.

Jerry was one of my favorite relatives.  He was one of those people who always had a smile.  Even in sad moments, he could muster up a grin.  He was funny and kind.  When I was a very little girl, long before 1977, I remember thinking he was cute.  Back then we called him "Jerry Lee."  I noticed a lot of my relatives calling him that today; I even found myself saying it.  When he was born he had a hole in his heart, and some of my earliest memories of him involved him being in the hospital in serious condition, having had a heart attack or something at a very early age (like 24 maybe?).  I remember being told his heart had stopped but he was brought back to life.  I knew what that meant.  It was very scary and I remember being very afraid that he would die.

I wish I could've seen him recently.  Most of the times I've seen him over the past 20 years were when he was working on cars out in the yard and the garage, and I was driving by on my way to Mom's and Granddaddy's.  I think I saw him at Mom's funeral; I know I saw him at Granddaddy's and talked to him for quite a while.

Today I went to his funeral.  I sure hated to see him go.  I pray for Wanda and his kids and grandkids.  Ridgetop is a sadder place without him for sure.

How can people have no feelings? Easy to be hard... easy to say no

I don't go political too much, but I have been hearing so much about healthcare reform, etc. lately. I have a lot to say about it, not as an employee but as a wife, mother, and daughter... as a woman, as a human.

No, health care is not a "right" per se, but in a country that wants to be one of the greatest, people should be able to access the necessary healthcare no matter their income. We have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. If we have the right to life that means we have the right to do what's necessary to avoid death. Being ill can often feel like imprisonment, the opposite of liberty. One can be happy in poor health, but it's not easy. I have no problem with working to pay for my health insurance. The rock star and I always have. I also have no problem with my tax dollars helping people who truly cannot work to pay for their health insurance. For example, my mom had stage IV cancer and worked as a "cafeteria lady" far longer than most people in her condition would have because long-term disability wouldn't pay enough to maintain her coverage. She got a type of state-funded insurance, which she had previously when she was working in a job that did not provide insurance. Her doctor became angry when she changed coverage, but she had little choice if she wanted to buy food and have running water and electricity. Someone I knew years ago was paralyzed on a motorcycle. He has since passed, but he couldn't work. He was in his early 20s. Could you look him in the eye and tell him he didn't deserve healthcare???

http://www.salon.com/2017/05/02/alabama-congressman-people-who-lead-good-lives-dont-have-preexisting-conditions/

I read an article where a man said that people who lived right don't have pre-existing conditions. The writer specifically mentioned strokes, heart problems, and birth defects. The rock star had a stroke at age 4 (yes, four) because of a birth defect - a heart problem. Not only that, but my grandmother had a stroke at age six. I'm not kidding. Personally, I am INSULTED that I would be blamed for my child having a birth defect. Yes, I had one of those too. I still have him! I did not smoke or do drugs when I was pregnant. I had a cold and had to take some medicine early on, which was okayed by my doctor. I don't want to say I'm a victim, but I don't think it was my fault. Nor do I blame my father-in-law for becoming the father of the rock star ten months after coming home from Vietnam where he was often exposed to Agent Orange... he didn't get drafted, he enlisted... but no, it was not his fault that his son was born with a life-threatening heart defect. I read someone's comment that Jimmy Kimmel's child was born with a heart defect because it was "karma" because he made jokes about Donald Trump. I disagree. Besides, what did that tiny baby do to deserve that?

I have a pre-existing condition, though i wasn't born with it. I'll take responsibility for my Type 2 diabetes. I ate my way into it. I'm sure all those low-fat, high-carb foods I ate in attempts to lose weight and maintain it in my 20s and 30s didn't have anything to do with my body becoming insulin resistant. I had inherited a predisposition to blood sugar issues. And my mom's cancer? She didn't smoke, seldom drank, tried to eat right and maintain a healthy weight, and exercised regularly most of her adult life. So why did she get cancer? Oh, that was probably hereditary too. What do you think about people whose genetic profiles show predisposition to diseases? Should we deny coverage to those people because we know it's going to cost more to take care of them? You going to look me in the eye and tell me no? And the young but now deceased motorcyclist? What if I told you he was driving too fast and was at fault? Would you look him in the eye and deny him coverage after that?

I have a problem with people who think it's ok to deny coverage for pre-existing conditions. Even though our insurance pays for those, our dental insurance would NOT cover needed dental implants for our child who was born with a cleft palate, and had teeth that did not form enamel properly (a condition that also affected my brother, though his lip and palate were fine). He had two root canals that had broken in the growth and surgical process. He had one tooth I jokingly called a "bubba tooth" - he laughed at it too - but it really wasn't funny, it was only about half a tooth. This after nine years of braces, 12 years of dental appliances... in his (then) 18 years of life.

If my brothers, uncle, and I had not just sold my mother's house, I'd planned to refinance my car to borrow that money. We're talking five digits worth of money, and that's not counting the numbers on the right of the decimal. I felt like we were lucky. I'd rather have had my mom living in that house, but I felt she would have approved of the money being spent that way.

I agree that the ACA - "Obamacare," as it is so frequently called, is not really its name - needs work and maybe even replacement. I want to see pre-existing conditions left in. I say we do not need caps on coverage. My sweet rock star and son might have had to do without healthcare... and who knows when we'd have had to start doing without. My mom's insurance company re-analyzed several medicines over the years. I think they were surprised that someone who had been through all she had was still alive, so they didn't realize they had to keep paying for those drugs!

When I was a new nuclear medicine tech back in the early 90s, occasionally I would see kids who had been born with cystic fibrosis (CF). Back then, a kid born with CF had a life expectancy of maybe 20 years. Now, babies born with the disease have a much longer life expectancy as more and more patients are living into their 40s and even beyond. If you put a cap on their benefits, some of those kids would not survive that long because they sometimes spend a lot of time in the hospital. I care, and that's because one of my childhood friends has a child with the disease. I don't know for certain but I would be beyond shocked if I learned that they had done anything at all during pregnancy to "deserve" a child with such a condition. No, that, like so many other things, is a GENETIC issue.

If you are healthy and have lived a "good" lifestyle, you are LUCKY. You won the genetic lottery. You may be taking good care of yourself and for that, you should be proud, but you should not judge others, for you do not know their stories. Can you honestly say you've never overeaten, or had too much ice cream, or just once, slept instead of working out? Can you truly say you've never broken the speed limit? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. As the saying goes, Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. (source unknown; attributed to Plato)

How can people be so heartless
How can people be so cruel
Easy to be hard
Easy to be cold

How can people have no feelings
How can they ignore their friends
Easy to be proud
Easy to say no

And especially people
Who care about strangers
Who care about evil
And social injustice

Do you only
Care about the bleeding crowd?
How about a needing friend?
I need a friend

How can people be so heartless
You know I'm hung up on you
Easy to give in
Easy to help out

And especially people
Who care about strangers
Who say they care about social injustice

Do you only
Care about the bleeding crowd
How about a needing friend?
I need a friend

How can people have no feelings
How can they ignore their friends
Easy to be hard
Easy to be cold
Easy to be proud
Easy to say no

Songwriters
Ragni, Gerome / Rado, James / Mac Dermot, Galt

It's all right now, Heaven should be proud

Nervous.

Just like when I was 18.

And it took about 45 minutes to get up the nerve to go up and talk to them. But I did, and now I’ll tell you about it.

Some stories develop a life all their own. Maybe it's a writer thing or an OCD thing, but some events in life turn into more than you expected. Sometimes one plus one equals more than two. Like when I sat watching CMT while Derek was in surgery, and saw a one-time promo video with Buck Owens and his “right-hand man,” and my mission became learning about this Don Rich guy, and… here I am 22 years later, still writing about Hee Haw.

So it is with today's blog entry.

While subbing at a high school in August 2015, I saw class composite pictures dating back to the 1960s. I recognized two brothers, Robert and Michael (not their real names) in the class of 1982 from their jobs in the college bookstore.  Robert frequented the Placement Office, my work-study job. I submitted his resume’ for every potentially fitting job, because even at age 18, I recognized that he was a good worker. I also thought he was gorgeous.

My first year of college, my boyfriend Donnie lived 35 miles away.  (Again, all names have been changed to protect the innocent… and the guilty.) Our romance the summer after graduation was fun and intense.  After college began and football season ended, things got weird.  This guy who’d proposed in my driveway and wanted me home every weekend suddenly stopped inviting me to family dinners. Donnie’s perfect date was semi-pro wrestling. That was fun at first, but got old quick. I wanted him to visit me, like other girls’ boyfriends.  My roommate left every weekend, so we would've had the dorm all to ourselves, but he didn't want to “make that drive.” He preferred my grandparents' house while they wintered in Florida, or his neighbor's shack, where we could hang out on their waterbed.

I was miserable, but I felt committed to Donnie.  In high school, I embarrassed myself by throwing myself at boys I liked. At least with Donnie, I didn’t have to be rejected by anyone else. I thought I should be satisfied. In general, he wasn’t a bad person. He went to church (but never mine, only his mama's), and didn’t drink or do drugs, but, as he even admitted to me years later, he was immature. Honestly, I wasn't much better.  I said all that to say that if I ever thought about taking a chance with Robert (and I did, quite often), I didn't act on it because I felt obligated to Donnie. 

Eventually, he got tired of pretending he wanted to be married, and decided we should take a break. I don’t think I ever cried. I was tired of playing the game too. It was a little too late for me to get to know Robert, as he was about to graduate.  My life got exponentially better though, and fast.  Within a year, I was dating "the rock star." Donnie wanted me back later, but I was done.

But enough about my history.

That day I subbed and saw the composite pic, I wondered what had happened to Robert, and to a lesser extent, Michael. Did they live close by? Did they have children at the school? So when I got home, I did what everybody does in 2017, or at the time, 2015, I Googled them. I saw Robert still had the job I almost kept him from getting.  But more on that later. Neither one married.

I found their names in the obit for their father, who left several siblings, his wife, Edith, 10 sons, and four daughters. That’s right, 14 kids.  I looked for an obituary for Edith. There wasn’t one, but I found the 1975 Tennessean article spotlighting this amazing family who built a beautiful home on a farm and made it work. My imagination whirled: what a life story! I wanted to interview this woman who grew up in Indiana during the Depression, became a “WAC” when it wasn’t all that common for a woman to do so, married someone she met at the end of the war, moved to his home state and contributed to the baby boom - in a big way. But these days, if someone walked up to my door and wanted to talk about my life story and maybe publish an article about me, I'd probably leave them on the porch, so I never approached any of them. 

The 1975 article grazed over the deaths of two additional children; being a morbidly curious nut, I learned that the first, a girl, died shortly after birth, and the third, a boy, at around age 6. Another died in his 40s, leaving nine sons and four daughters to survive Edith, who died this past Sunday of pneumonia.  I have a morbid habit of looking at funeral home websites and newspaper obituaries. I don’t do it every day, but several times a week.  I’ve said before that good Southerners look at the obituaries to find out who they need to visit and bring a casserole.

Today I got to meet several of them.  I sat in the back of the chapel for a long time, observing. Nervous, like I was still 18.  Finally, I got up and walked to the front, where I told Robert my story about wanting to meet his mother. I conveniently left out the part about often wishing I had taken a chance and flirted with him back in the day.  That, too, is a story for another time. I believe I've shared enough of it today.

I also shared my story with Michael, two sisters, and another brother. I told them all my regrets at not getting to meet her. I don’t think I sounded too creepy. If you’re honest, and sincerely show interest in people, they realize you aren't out to hurt them.  I try to be charming too. Hahaha… I realize not everyone has honest motives, and some people use their charm with very impure motives, but that’s not me.  I met two more brothers before I left.  Sweet folks. I may tell more of this woman's story in another blog entry. She lived a long, full life. She was a veteran. She was a super mom – didn’t have a job outside the home but successfully raising all those children and running a farm with her husband - she was an inspiration to me, and I didn't even know her.

I don’t know if this is a nationwide thing, but in the South, funeral homes hand out little folded papers with a picture of the deceased, dates and places of birth and death, surviving family members, etc.  Inside Edith’s, Proverbs 31:10-31 was printed.  I believe it described her well.  You should look it up, but here are a few verses:

^10 [b]A wife of noble character who can find?  She is worth far more than rubies.
¹¹ Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.

¹⁷ She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.
¹⁸ She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night.

²⁵ She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.
²⁶ She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
²⁷ She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.
²⁸ Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:
²⁹ “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.”
³⁰ Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
³¹ Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Don't waste a moment wondering why...

Well, I can't be a Cheatham Countian and not mention the most famous person who ever came from here, the late and definitely great Pat Summitt.  She died this week (in case you have been in a coma and somehow missed that).  Honestly, I don't have much more to say tonight, God rest her soul.

I do think tonight's song lyric sounds like something a coach would say... lyrics from "Do It or Die" by Atlanta Rhythm Section...

Don't let your troubles make you cry
Don't waste a moment wondering why
When everything goes wrong
You have to go on
And do it or die

Do it or die now
Stand your ground
Don't let your bad breaks go gettin' you down
Even when times get rough
And you've had enough
You still gotta try

Do it no matter what the people say
They don't even know you
Die before you let them stand in your way (Don't you know that)
You should know that... life is a gamble all along
Winners or losers you keep rollin' on
So go on and roll the dice
You only live twice
So do it or die

Born and raised on Acid Country

I grew up with neighbors who could have been these people.  I remember seeing Porter and Dolly at their house and I remember hearing about lots of drug use.

But today, I play this in memory of Tim Wilson, who died yesterday.  I saw him live in Nashville a few years ago.  Nice guy.  A little rough, but nice. RIP, Tim.

tapestry

Don't die of shock because I'm writing two days in a row!

I'm actually seeing some benefit in using this as a method for web curation.  I Tweet interesting articles but I don't think I can use Twitter in class.  Interestingly, Tumblr isn't blocked, or at least it wasn't earlier in the school year.

Here's an article from Neuroscience News about a polio-like illness recently found in California.  I'd just Tweeted about another one... that one was in the emergency medicine journal Medscape Emergency.

I'm teaching about ECGs right now.  Here's a blog I just found:  Keeping ECGs Simple

Professional dress article in NurseTogether.com... I may have to see if I can get into the "inner circle" of this site.  I'm sure I can add something!

I've been a little disturbed by this recent news:  Three Parents.  Can you see me shivering?  Eeehhwww.

Another possibly troubling lab test... new DNA test for Down Syndrome.  As a parent of a child born with a birth defect, I know that knowing what we were facing before he was born was a wonderful gift, but I wonder how this test will affect abortion rates.  I'm sure there will be many heated debates about this one (but hopefully, not on this blog...).

Growing up, the first person I ever knew with Downs was Dawn Hulsizer, who passed away Sunday night and was buried today.  My heart is so heavy for her family, but she is flying with the angels now.  I love the picture her family put on the funeral home website.  I can't help but wonder... what if we're not the "normal" ones, they are?  Or if they're the more advanced, evolved models of humanity? I can just hear her dad calling her "Dawnie" with his New York accent...

Anybody remember diagramming sentences?  Here's a fun article about those.  Speaking of sentences, here are some really strange sentences.

I've got to stop.  I could go on all night doing this.

Yet another type of testing in this article from NPR:  You got WHAT in the mail?

Autism diagnosis changes...

Finally, my new favorite website ever.  Weekly Top 40

'Cause we live in a time when meaning falls in splinters from our lives

Today has been a hard day.

It has been a month now, and I can't say it makes sense yet.  I feel terrible, like somehow I let her down by not being able to keep her alive.  She wanted to live, so badly.  And yet I know that she wouldn't want to come back now.  She suffered so much.  I think she just got so tired.

I miss her.  I wish I could have kept her with me for the rest of my life, but only if she was healthy and enjoying life, and not having to go through all that chemo and radiation.  I thought about that occasionally, like what if we were out on a Sunday afternoon and had an accident and went together?  But that's not the way it happened and for the family's sake, I know that's a good thing. 

This experience has changed me and I'm not sure I like the way I have turned out, but I have learned a lot about myself in the past month.

I know that life is short.  I have spent too much time playing cards and looking at silly blogs and tumblrs.  I am going to use my spring break a little more wisely than I have in the past.  I am going to declutter my house 15 minutes at a time.  Yes, that's a FlyLady concept but please don't put me on the email list!  I have to declutter my emails!!!  :D

I know that life is short and we should do things we want to do and things we think will make a difference in the world, even if the difference seems small.  I have searched my heart and my soul to figure out if I am headed in the right direction.

I have had to face some of my past, not that I have a lot of regrets, but I think we should learn from our past, and one mistake I have made over and over and over again is that I seem to never be happy.  Is that why I can't get a nuclear medicine job in Nashville, because I have the reputation for never being content where I am?  I know that's why I have such a dirty house, because I was never happy living here.  I wanted to live in Ridgetop.  Now, I don't have much reason to.  Mom's gone, Grandaddy's gone, and Randy works 40 miles from there.  This house is 17.5 miles from his work and 18.5 miles from mine... and I only work 10 months out of the year. 

I like my car, though.

I may not always like teaching but I like my classroom.  I could improve it, but I like it.

It's late and I have an appointment early.  It may not ever make sense, but maybe I can be at peace with that.

You decorated my life.

Hard to believe this was just not quite two months ago.

Rest in peace, Mom, you deserve it.

Jan. 23, 1949 - Feb. 10, 2013

Oh, and by the way, it doesn't make any more sense now than it did a few hours ago.

I will wait, I will wait for you...

I like this song.  It's actually being performed on the Grammys right now.  I am really out of touch most of the time but I like this song and these guys.

I have spent a lot of time waiting in the last few days.  Waiting for Mom to take the next breath when she laid there on the bed breathing and then not breathing again for 15 or 20 seconds.  She's been like this since Friday.  I went home today because I needed to go home, I guess.  I have cried and I have slept and I've eaten.  My mind is shot... maybe my body is too, but it's probably better than my mind.

I suspect that my next journal entry will be describing the end of her journey.  Maybe then I will be able to make sense of it all.

And I don't know how you do it, making love out of nothing at all

It was the song from the 80s that I play sometimes and always think of someone who didn't turn out to be my soulmate, but who has been in my thoughts at least once a day, every day, ever since.  Not in such a way that it ruins my life, more in a wow, that was a fun memory kind of way.  Or yeah, Jeff used to do that, I wonder if he still does.  Things like, the Seahawks were his team, or he had a Herschel Walker "You lied like a dawg" t-shirt, or that he would never admit it to his friends but he liked Air Supply.

He and most of his friends were brainy and somewhat immature, in an innocent and sweet way.  They weren't out tearing up the neighborhood; they were renting movies, hanging out at houses with pool tables and Ataris, ordering pizza, playing football and/or basketball in the backyard, and collecting comic books.  If they were 17 now, they'd be playing video games like my son.  It was sort of like a high school version of "The Big Bang Theory."  There were a few of us girls who had classes with this crowd.  I saw a few of us there today.  If girls who hang out with gay men are "f@g hags" (and I apologize for being offensive, I would never refer to a person that way myself, but I have friends who referred to themselves that way) what are girls who hang out with nerds called?  They weren't really nerds, at least, I thought they all had good qualities.  Brains and wit were far more entertaining than popularity and obsession with looking good.

So today I went to the funeral home to visit a childhood friend, a mutual friend of ours, a former classmate (a grade younger) and even a short-time boyfriend.  His mom died on the 17th.  I sat next to Jeff, another former classmate a grade younger, longtime friend, former neighbor, and sometimes boyfriend in the old days.  I went out with him 3 weeks before I married Randy.  Bill said Randy and I were people who needed that time of trial, that idea of, well, we've tried everything else, and this is what's right for us.  I guess that was true.  We've been together for a long time - and married for 23.5 years.

When you're happy in your relationship, and I am, and I'm pretty sure Randy is too, it's good to see your exes in happy relationships too.  I like Jeff's wife.  She is so sweet, and she tries to take care of Jeff's dad, and he needs that.  I almost wish I could set him up with Mom because they could both use the company.  But, he doesn't need to have to take care of anybody and she's not able to.  And Bill seems to be happy too.  His girlfriend is cute, and seems kind and sweet.

So yeah.  I'm happy for them all.  Really and truly.

What's new, pussycat? Wo-wo-wo-oh!!!

Rachel's been here for a post-mission trip visit. She just left. I hate to see her go so soon, but... that just goes with life, sugar.

D's spending the night with a buddy.

Randy's cleaning up the storage building.

I've been updating events on websites... seems like I get that task no matter where I go. I do that on the school website, the church website, the HOSA school website... how did I get that task???

I was feeling a little frustrated. It happens so easily. I get overwhelmed with all the junk in my life and all the unfinished business I have. I have a dirty house, a big research project looming in the headlights (and getting bigger as I get closer to it) for one of my graduate courses, a smaller, but still huge work project coming up in the next few days at school, church tomorrow (two services... one should be really cool), a part-time job that doesn't pay all that well but is something that comes natural and it's something I can do at home, a full-time job that wipes me out mentally and sometimes physically and requires more time than I am willing to give it while paying about half the salary I used to make before being laid off 3 years ago, a chronic illness that tries my patience and confuses me to no end; sometimes it's easy to deal with and at other times, it's literally a huge pain. And then there are the usual things... bathrooms, furniture, and floors to clean, dishes and laundry to wash, and meals that need preparation. Thank goodness Randy doesn't mind cooking. I have a wonderful husband and two fantastic kids. Fortunately, they don't require a lot of my time anymore, but I want to spend time with them. I have parents who don't ask a lot of me, but I want to spend time with them too. I have brothers, sisters-in-law, a mother-in-law, nieces, nephews... you get the picture. I have a church family and good friends. I have a great life and it's rich and full. Unfortunately, I just don't manage my time the way I should.

I want to write. I don't usually think of that when I'm making goals for my life because... I just don't. I don't see it ever being lucrative enough for me to do it full-time. I do get a lot of my writing "jones" out by blogging and all that web work. With my "side job" of transcription, and the writing I should be doing in my online class, and especially as a teacher, I get plenty of opportunities these days. I've spent most of my life thinking, someday I will write the fiction stories that I have stored in my head all these years. Now I'm 44 and wondering, how many years do I have? Maybe I will live another 44 years, but I am already diabetic and don't eat the way I should... so really, who can say? I read an article in the Tennessean today and it got me to thinking too. It was about a woman who has dementia - and she's 49. I'll be 45 in a few weeks. That's scary.

So I was looking at "Pick the Brain." It's one of my favorite websites. I check it two or three times a week, sometimes more. I like it on Facebook, so that helps remind me to check it often. It's an inspirational - motivational site, which is something I've found really helpful over the last year. Anyway, I was reading about how "I'm the problem" and it reminded me of how often I've looked at my life and wondered, why did I end up (insert fault here... I'll give you some ideas... fat, broke, living in a perpetually-dirty house that isn't worth what I owe...)? The "fat" part - strangely, being fat doesn't bother me as far as my appearance goes, because even though I'm heavier than I've ever been, I'm still sort of in the middle. I know many thinner people and many fatter people. I still look all right, most of the time. It's my health that worries me. I wonder if my feet would feel better if I wasn't carrying around all the extra weight. I know my knees would.

I have a wonderful marriage. But sometimes I wonder - does Randy secretly wish he'd married the girl who married an astronaut? Would he have been better off if he had? Would she? I don't know. We'll never know. It doesn't matter, really. It didn't happen.

The more important question is, what can I do to become what I want to be? Or who I want to be? Am I ready to make the changes I need to do what I want???

It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday...

I think I've used this song title before, but so what?

Yesterday we had to say goodbye to our Bonnie. She was 13 and in kidney failure, and even if we'd treated her and held on to her a little longer, we would've just had to watch that painful slope downward. It was hard to let her go, but we decided that it was better to go on and do it than to keep dragging it out... for her and for us. It hasn't been easy though. I cried. A LOT. I could cry now, if I let myself, but late night cries are not good for my sinuses and I've got to be on top of things tomorrow. I just have to remind myself that even if we'd brought her home, she would never be her old healthy self again. Three years ago I was pretty sure it would be our last Christmas with her, so I have felt like we were blessed to have her as long as we did.

I am still having terrible problems with my feet. If I have to stand or walk a lot, I may not hurt then, but I pay for it later. That's the worst. I don't like knowing that if I go shopping, I'll have to hurt later (if not sooner). And I'm not talking about a mall marathon, I'm talking about going to the grocery. In all honesty, I'm thinking it's time for me to get a desk job (and no, teaching is NOT a desk job... at least not at my school) but that scares me too. Will I weigh 500 pounds if I don't have to stand up a lot? I read about three medicines, over the counter supplements, that I started yesterday (only after I looked them up for interactions with my current meds). I hope they'll work...

I do entirely too much complaining, so let me tell a happy story. Today we celebrated my mom's birthday. She is 63 and this means she has lived longer than her mom and both her grandmothers did. I used to say I was going to party like nobody's business when I made it to number 63, but now, it'll be no big deal because Mom has been there first. AND THAT IS ALL RIGHT. Now, if you are one of my Facebook friends don't pass that around... I have many more FB friends than I do blog followers so I figure I'm safe to tell her age here, LOL!!!

School's out for...two weeks!

Today I've been a sleepyhead. I think I deserve to be. I've been in school and teaching school and sleep has been a luxury. I HAVE done some work around here & in a few I'll do a little more. I need to do some serious writing today, a little bit of record keeping, and a little research for my at-home job...in addition to a little more cleaning and laundry.

My wonderful rock star is on a grocery run. D is watching "Lost" & Rach is still asleep. I have really appreciated the rock star this week.

Sometimes it takes a drastic thing to make me appreciate what's unique about him. Last weekend the brother of a high school friend died. I remember him but didn't really know him. I went to the funeral home. He was president of his motorcycle club. For those who aren't into the biker culture, this means he was into that lifestyle. The funeral home parking lot was filled with bikes and leather, long grey beards and smoke. The pallbearers had names like Dirt and Birddog. To be quite honest, I was impressed with the organization and the care they took to do everything just right. Bikers seem to like Randy's bands. I have always appreciated that. Maybe there is a part of me that envies that lifestyle. At any rate, I've appreciated more about Randy and his quirks this week

I had decided that my new year's resolution would be to be more creative. I need to lose weight, work out, and be healthier...and maybe I will...but I have so many ideas and so many things I want to learn to do, and I do so little of them. So I'm going to do those things in 2012. I'm going to write more, paint and draw more, maybe write some songs, maybe be more creative in the kitchen. I'm looking forward to this coming year.

We shall overcome, some day.

Is today an anniversary of some event in the Civil Rights Movement? I'm asking because I just got through watching "Mississippi Burning," and now "Ghosts of Mississippi" is on. I'd never seen the first movie before today, but I'd heard of it. The latter's one of my favorites. (I just love Alec Baldwin with a Southern accent. It drips like honey from his mouth.) I know it's not MLK's birthday, or anniversary of his assassination. Emmett Till's birthday is next week, and Medgar Evers' was week before last. Actually, if you Google "July in Civil Rights History," you'll see that several events took place in July.

I'm home alone tonight. Randy's got a "gig," Rachel's working at school, & Derek's spending the night with a friend. If I think about it, I get kind of sad thinking that my babies are grown up, but I'm really too busy to be lonely. I've been to see friends today anyway so I don't feel lonely. I got my hair cut really short today. I wanted to go back to the natural color, and besides, it was hot. There's plenty to do: laundry, coursework for my Desktop Publishing class, dishes, balancing the checkbook, recording stuff on the DVR for my collection, lesson planning, studying the CNA book, and reading the Bible!!! I'm starting CNA classes on Monday.

All summer, I looked for a part-time job I could do in the summers and perhaps on weekends during the school year too. Well, nobody wanted a Certified Nuclear Medicine Technologist who could only work PRN in the summer. So, I applied for care partner positions, and other medical jobs that I'm probably over-qualified to do. Nobody thought a CNMT could do anything except punch buttons and I can imagine them asking, don't they handle radiation? Why doesn't she find a job in oncology or something? Uh, because first, I'm not qualified to do radiation oncology and second, there are 35 jobs - nationwide - if you type in "nuclear medicine technologist" on CareerBuilder, and 20 of them are for medical technologists or nuclear pharmacists or other jobs I am not qualified to do. The other 15 are all over the country, the closest being in Atlanta, 4 hours away. If I wanted to go full time, the closest position is in Florida, 8 or more hours away.

Most of the care partner jobs, as well as home health aide jobs, require a Nursing Assistant certification (CNA). You can't challenge the board on that. You have to go to 100 hours of schooling. Some long-term care facilities (nursing homes, assisted living facilities, etc.) will pay for you to do it, but most want applicants who already have their CNA. So, I decided to go on and do it. The first six weeks of school will be crazy...I'll finish one graduate-level class, start two more, finish the CNA class all while teaching! I'm sort of excited but also sort of scared! I believe I can do it, though.

Well, on that note, I guess I'd better get to work.

I don't want to go through the motions...

A few weeks ago I wrote about hearing this song. It's called "The Motions" by Matthew West. I really need to purchase this song and listen to it every day of my life. It's a contemporary Christian song.

• I don’t wanna go through the motions,
• I don’t wanna go one more day
• Without Your all consuming passion inside of me
• I don’t wanna spend my whole life asking
• What if I had given everything?
• Instead of going through the motions

Tomorrow is January 14. Last January 14, a girl I knew in high school died of breast cancer. I had not seen her in years but had taken care of several of her family members and her sister is my friend on Facebook. Then on January 15, I learned that my childhood heartthrob had died that same night. (I wrote a long post about that, here.) It was one of the saddest weekends of my life. I can't believe it's been a year. I think about it every day. I'll never forget it.

I have been out of school for a week, and while I have enjoyed it, I just dread going back more after time off. I've copied 16 episodes of Hee Haw onto DVD this week, and that's enough. I wish Jim Ed Brown and the Opry cruisers would leave for the Caribbean already. I bet that commercial was on 100 times in 16 hours. Gee whiz.

My soul's like a wheel that's turning.

So in all of this, I have had some interesting insights.

A day or two ago, I read a little in one of Shonda Parker's books, about how we have the ability to be content in our sufferings, as Paul was in Philippians. I guess I had never thought much about it...being content in all circumstances, because we can do everything through Christ, who strengthens us. In the past, I had found that verse about doing everything to be overwhelming, like an excuse to load me up with things to do. This time the part about contentment stuck out for me. God just wants me to be CONTENT where I am.

A few weeks ago I made some peace with the fact that I got laid off way back when. I got to thinking that some of the bad events of 2009 and 2010 would've still happened even if I had been at Vandy. Granddaddy's death had nothing to do with where I worked. Tracey's didn't either. I probably would've kept working out, but I might have even been worse off if I'd been working at Vandy when I hurt my foot, and that was part of how I put on weight. I could very well have done that at Rachel's graduation or some other event. So, I can't blame all this on Vandy, even if I miss the money a whole lot. This makes me feel a bit more content teaching. Of course, having two weeks off is nice too.

When I felt that God wanted me to be a teacher, I had been thinking maybe He was calling me to some form of ministry. I could maybe see myself being a lay speaker but never a church pastor. I don't like confrontation that much. I think singing is my ministry and teaching is a way I can have a little time during summers & winter breaks to do it.

Isn't it time????

I just can't find the answers to the questions that keep running through my mind...ba-bay!!!

I don't know why I picked this song. Well, yes I do. I was just reading my blog entries from February because I felt a little tiny itty bitty bit sentimental today, and this song reminds me of being 12 or 13 or so, and...well, I'm not feeling THAT sentimental today, you can read the February entries yourself if you want to know more about that.

Today would be my grandmother's 81st birthday. She died at 62, when Rachel was 12 weeks old. Rachel has missed out on getting to know that great-grandmother; fortunately, she and Derek had two more AND a great-grandfather to know and love.

A year ago today we were putting Granddaddy in hospice. I remember this because Randy's office Christmas dinner was the next night, and this year's party is scheduled for tonight. I am surprised at how much I have blocked from last Christmas. The kids asked me something about last Christmas and I said, "I don't know. I really don't remember." I pretty much operated on auto-pilot from Dec. 17 through January 15, and then something (in the February posts) triggered a response of depression. It's taken me about 11 months to work through that. I don't think I will remember 2010 as a happy year, though I can't say it's been the worst year ever. I have some happy memories of this year, and mostly memories of a lot of stress.

I was also thinking, isn't it time to have fun??? After all, classes are OVER for me until January 5!!! I do have to do some work, but I have time to do it l-e-i-s-u-r-e-l-y. So, now I am going to grade exams. Love ya. Merry Christmas.

you can count on me...

I am thinking about using my journal to write a book about my first year in the classroom. I tried to come up with song lyrics that summed up each month last school year. In August, the title would have been, "A Change is Gonna Come." In September I was still overwhelmed and in the honeymoon stage. I picked "Dancin' in the Moonlight" for that one. October brought the end of the honeymoon phase and "The Thrill is Gone." In November, "There's a New Kid in Town" reflected the changes when Sarah came. I picked "Like a Rock" for December, with my strong resolve when Granddaddy passed. January was another story, with "Hopelessly Devoted to You." ("If I Can't Have You" would've been good too.) February, I chose "Rollercoaster" to describe the emotional upheaval in my house, and in March, "With a Little Luck" seemed to sum up my optimism. In April, I chose this song..."Count on Me" by Jefferson Starship. It was a song that reminded me of those happy moments in 1978, and the words of the title seemed to echo my sentiment for Glencliff as the job possibilities at other places came and went. (But more on that later.) With the flood on May 1, picking a song for that month was easy - "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?"

As school ended, I thought I had made up my mind to stay at Glencliff. Then, I heard there would probably be a position at Sycamore. I applied. The next day the county posted on their website that they're looking for health science teachers but specifically put, "Must have RN license." In other words, "we got your resume, health science teacher without an RN license, but we want you and everyone else to know, we're only interested if you're a nurse, because one of these days we're going to offer the ONE course the state of TN requires to be taught by an RN. We haven't yet but we will." I wrote ugly things about this in my journal, but, que sera sera.

Well, that's all I have to say about that.

There were openings in Montgomery County, all gone now. One was taken by a teacher who left and went to Ft. Campbell. She tried to recruit me for Ft. Campbell and now she's going back to teaching. Ft. Campbell never called, by the way, and I wasn't all that fired up about going back to nucs so soon anyway. The money would be nice, though. One was taken by a teacher from Robertson County, which never posted that opening. I wonder if they were going to downsize anyway? There WAS an opening in Robertson County but it was as far from here as Glencliff is, and taking on two schools. I thought about it, but was kind of waiting for some other stuff to happen at the time, so I didn't apply. Had it been closer to home, I'd have been more interested.

So, at this point I think it's safe to say I'm going back to the Cliff next year, and I'm actually very happy about it. I have a new classroom and two of the three preps I had last year, with one added that I don't know much about but I'm excited to have. I have plans for HOSA and I think it will be a good year.

I hope my health will cooperate. Since school's been out, I've had an ear infection, stomach troubles, and a heel spur...plus, I'm waiting for the results of some lab work that could be life-changing. We shall see what this brings. I had really hoped to get into shape this summer but between a sore foot, giving up my Y membership because of money, and the extreme heat for this point in the year, I have just not been able to get anywhere. Still, I am LOVING the summer. It is GREAT to have days off.

Derek's mowing at Me-maw's today & Rachel's helping at a camp. Randy was off last week but had to go back today. I'm going to do some homework for my two summer courses now. Later, I'll do a little planning for the school year, and later, go to class. Summer is great.

If I can't have you, I don't want nobody, baby

This song said it all in 1979.

I was 12 years old and madly, crazy in love with Tracey Evetts. He was two years older than me and I thought he was the most beautiful creature God put on this earth. He played baseball for my dad and he left his glove in the truck at the end of the season. I slept with it under my pillow for a year.

He had a blue bike and I had a red one. Our grandparents lived in the same neighborhood (and had for 75 years). From Tracey, I learned how to play "Galaga" because that game was at the grocery store. He knew I existed, but I'm sure he just thought I was a silly little girl.

In 7th grade, we had this unspoken agreement. When he got on the bus at the high school, he knew he had a seat next to me. I don't remember telling people not to sit there, but I must have let it be known that was his seat. He was a pest. I loved it, but I never let on. I still sort of liked him then, but by then, I was spending a lot of time on the phone with one of his buddies. As teenage "love" goes, his buddy thought I was a silly little girl, and had a crush on another girl.

In 9th grade I fell for him all over again. I don't really remember what went right, or what went wrong that time. I do remember Mom telling me she didn't know why I kept fooling with him, that he didn't care a thing about me, and that I could find someone who DID care about me. Tracey fell in love with another girl, and eventually they got married. Meanwhile, I dated several people, some who cared a lot, and others who really didn't. Most of them didn't pass muster with the parents either. I wondered if they ever thought they'd have been better off if I'd held out for Tracey. (Truthfully, looking back, I know my mom didn't. Don't know how Daddy felt though.)

A few years later, I got married too. One day we happened to be staying in the same place, with relatives at the lake, and he told me how impressed he was at what I was doing. It was nice.

Our lives went different ways. He got divorced. At that time, Randy and I were in Madisonville, having a baby. Randy and I hit a rough patch a little later, around the time we moved back to Tennessee. By then, he was married again, and they were having a baby. I only saw him once in all those years after that. He didn't quite look like the cute little boy who rode the blue bicycle...but then, I didn't look the same either. I couldn't hold that against him. He signed my guestbook on Classmates about 18 months ago. I thought that was nice.

All through these years I have loved those same songs I liked in 1978 and 1979. It was the music I loved when I was 12 years old, when life was fun, when I believed I would grow up to be pretty, and successful, and have everything I dreamed I would have. Good memories.

I loved living in my hometown. It's a good place. I live about 30 minutes from there now. You can live in town and walk to the store, or to school, or to the Post Office. You don't have to drive 5 miles to get a gallon of milk. If you do drive 5 or 6 miles, you can sit down and eat at any kind of restaurant or shop at any kind of store. (Of course, you only have to drive 10 miles for that here.) The best thing about it was that all my family was/is right there. I have often told people I miss those days when my parents and their friends would get together, and how the best times of my childhood were those neighborhood 4th of July parties and gatherings. Some people there still have those kind of get-togethers with their school buddies. I didn't know this until recently. I learned this when he died a little over 2 weeks ago.

I learned this on Facebook. It may sound superstitious, but I'll never check my Facebook during lunch on an "A" day again. It's a school thing - we have classes on alternating days. On A days my planning period is 1st; on B days it's last period. So...I have to plan for B days at the end of A days. I checked Facebook at lunch, didn't have a planning period afterward, left, distraught, at the end of the day and came in at the beginning of the next week on a B day for which I hadn't planned properly. No. I'll never do it again. I depend too much on my ability to plan for the next day, and I can't take a chance on being devastated at the end of the day.

It made me sad for his wife and his daughter. It made me thankful to have my sweet Randy. It made me feel old to think it has been that long - 30 years - since we rode the bus and he hit me with the two big nails he soldered together. It made me feel strange to realize that what I am now is all because of those days and the things I did then. It made me feel empty to think of all that I have missed living here, where I have nothing in common with my neighbors and my family's 30 minutes away and my kids don't go to school with the children of my classmates.

I have spent too much time on the computer when I should have been doing things with people. A lot of those times I was here because Randy was doing his own thing, either playing cards or playing music, and the kids were too little to leave alone, and I didn't have the money to pay someone to watch them while I did my own thing. Now they are bigger, and they don't need me as much as they did then. Rachel will be in college this time next year.

I've had a great life not living in Ridgetop. I've made a lot of friends over the years. I still see people from Ridgetop a lot. I get home often. (Probably not often enough!) In some ways, though, I've missed out on a lot.

This year has been particularly hard because it takes me 30 or more hours a week to prepare for the 40 I spend teaching, and after you count the 10 hours a week I spend commuting and the 10 I spend eating breakfast, showering, reading the paper, checking email, etc. every week, and the 56 I should spend sleeping, that only leaves 22 hours a week to do everything else. That sounds like a lot until you think of what all has to be done. Church is 2 or more hours a week. (I'm glad I became a Methodist! If I were still Baptist that would be more like 5 or 6 hours.) Going to Mom's takes 30 minutes each way, so if I visit for 2 hours, that's 3 hours total. That leaves 17 hours, divided over 7 days...meaning, I only have about 2.5 hours a day to relax and that's not really accurate because I have to do things like go to the grocery store, pharmacy, etc. I'd like to work out more often, but that's 30 minutes each way travel time and 30 minutes of exercise. And, of course, I spend about an hour of my day on Facebook, but I do get a little social interaction out of that. It's no wonder I feel isolated, though.

I didn't make new year's resolutions this year. Today, though, Feb. 1, I am making new month's resolutions. In my journal, sometime around Jan. 1, I wrote that I need to be happy with the life I have. I do intend to do that. I also intend to start spending more time with my friends while I can.