A Picture is Worth...

I took my camera with me today as I did errands in Blacksburg and Gaffney.  Gaffney is about ten miles from Blacksburg heading west and where I go to do banking and Walmarting.  There are some sights around this area that only a picture could do justice.

Sometimes, when I am in a new area, I will see something that reminds me of someone or some place I’ve been to before.  It's so cool when this happens.  It's like a surprise visit from an old friend.  So far I've had two such surprises.

There is a street I pass on my way to the Post Office that reminds me of two great people who were leaders in our Bible Study Group when we lived in Mobile, Alabama.  Chuck and Sharon Whisonant are the nicest people you could ever meet.  They immediately took Rick and me in as friends when we started going to Cottage Hill Baptist Church.  We feel blessed to know them. 

I think of Chuck and Sharon whenever I pass by WHISONANT STREET.  I don’t think it’s a very common name.  They are the only Whisonants I know.  Chuck and Sharon have come to this area of South Carolina on vacation in the past, to visit family I think, so it could be a distant relative of Chuck's that this street is named after.  You never know.



I am curious to find out if this sign has any connection to Chuck.

Another person I think about often is my best friend, Barb Bergstrand.  She lived in Pittsfield when I lived there.  I miss her dearly and haven’t seen her since May of 2008 when we passed through Pittsfield on our way to a job in Gillette, Wyoming.  However, when we talk on the phone, we pick right up from where we left off.  Friends do that. 

Lots of changes have happened to Barb this year.  She retired from teaching elementary school and she recently moved with her husband Kevin to Indiana.  They sold a great home near Pittsfield that Rick and I dubbed “The Bed and Breakfast.” We loved staying there whenever we came to visit. 

Their cabin-style house with its huge front porch was located on Ambrosia Hollow Road.  Barb would often say they lived in the “holler,” just like a hillbilly from Appalachia would say.  [No Barb, I am not calling you a hillbilly.  I would never do that!]  Now they live on Possum Trot Road in Indiana, another unusual street name. Don’t you think? 

Besides naturally thinking about Barb because she is my friend, I also think about her whenever I pass this historic landmark in Gaffney.  It’s a one room schoolhouse that was built in 1880.  It’s a double whammy reminder of Barb because it’s a schoolhouse and because of its name, Possum Trot School.  As soon as I saw it, I knew Barb would love it, so this picture is for you Barb!

This one-room schoolhouse was restored in 1969.

According to information I found on the web, the name “Possum Trot”
mostly like came from the fact that the students reached the school by following
an existing possum trail through the nearby woods.

   

There are a few other pictures I want to share with you that don’t remind me of anyone or any place I’ve been.  They are just cool pictures of things I found interesting in this area.

The first is a water tower, but it’s not your typical water tower.   It is in the shape of a giant peach. They call it the Peachoid. The peach is South Carolina's state fruit.  There are several peach farms near Gaffney and this may be why they decided to build this unique water tower.



The Peachoid looking east. 

It is listed as one of the state’s famous roadside attractions.

  

The Gaffney Peachoid was built in 1981. 
It's an awesome sight as you drive along I-85 between Exit 90 and 92.

Looking straight at the peach is not the best way to view it.  Rick

says it looks like a fat butt, crack and all!!  [Pardon my French.] 
I think the Fatz sign is very appropriate considering!!  LOL



Part of my errands today included stopping at the Work Boots Plus store to pick up some Boot Guard for Rick's work boots.  It’s in a quaint little shopping center.  Next door to Work Boots Plus is the Bargain Shoes store.  What I particularly like about the Bargain Shoes store is not necessarily their shoes, it's what they have added to their sign.  See picture.

What a blessing to see this bold statement of faith!!

After leaving here I went to Walmart to shop for groceries.  I passed by McDonald’s and I noticed their marquee sign was flashing this message: “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.”  I am happy to see more and more Christians taking a stand for what they believe in. 

So there you have it!  This completes our mini tour of my little corner of the globe.  I firmly believe you have to make an area your own.  You must claim it for yourself.  If you have no family or friends around, that's all you can do.  I claim Whisonant Street, Possum Trot School, the Peachoid, Bargain Shoes and Jesus.  What do you claim?

Peace and Love,

~ P

Agnes Sparrow

I just finished reading the book The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow, and I must say I was pleasantly surprised.  I found myself looking forward to spending time with Agnes and her sister Griselda and the other residents of Bright’s Pond, Pennsylvania.

Bright's Pond could be any little town in the US.  It's a place where everybody knows everybody.  As I was reading, I imagined it to be a little like Pittsfield, Illinois, a place I lived for almost ten years.  The Blue Moon Cafe in the story could easily have been the Cardinal Inn.  If you've ever lived in a small town, you would understand the "feel" this book has.
 

Barnes and Noble offered The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow as one of its Free Friday selections last year around Christmas.  I put off reading it because I always seemed to have something else I wanted to read instead.  But last week I decided to give it a try, and I’m glad I did.  I found the book to be quite charming and not what I expected.  What did I expect?  I expected a story deep in religiousness.  Boy, was I wrong.

 

The story centers on Agnes, a 700 lb. woman who is unable to leave her house because of her massive size.  She is cared for by her sister, Griselda, the town librarian.  Agnes has devoted her life to praying for the residents of Bright’s Pond.  Their prayer requests range from car trouble to bleeding ulcers, from marital problems to heart condition and everything in between.

 

Agnes is credited with a few miracle cures and the townspeople are very excited about this.  So happy in fact that they want to put up a new sign on the interstate that says, "Welcome to Bright’s Pond, Home of Agnes Sparrow."  Agnes is totally against this. She gives all the praise to God for any miracles that have occurred, but the people won’t listen to her or her sister as they try to fight it.  They continue to bring more and more prayer requests to Agnes and Agnes continues to pray for them because as she herself puts it, "It's what I do."

 

Agnes’s notoriety brings a stranger to town looking for his own miracle.  His unspoken prayer request is answered in a horrific way causing the people of Bright’s Pond to turn their backs on Agnes.  She begins to question herself, her reasons for praying and even starts to think she might be the cause of what happened. 

 

It’s at this time that Agnes confesses to Griselda a secret she has been keeping since childhood.  When the secret is revealed, we begin to see why Agnes has let herself gain so much weight and why she has taken up praying as her vocation.  Revealing this secret brings relief to Agnes but causes Griselda mental anguish.  Only after much soul searching can Griselda come to terms with what Agnes has revealed and why she has devoted her life to her sister.

 

While the actual prayers of Agnes Sparrow are not the main focus in this book, they are very important to the story and how it progresses.  The same goes for us.  The words of our prayers are not as important as we would like to think.  The Bible says in Matthew 7:8 —

 

“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.  Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (NIV)

How comforting!  It blesses my heart that my Heavenly Father knows me so well that he sees what I need before I can utter the words.  What an awesome God we serve!!

 

The next time you find yourself in a situation where you need God’s help but don’t know how or what to ask, don’t worry, He already knows.  And the next time you are looking for a light-hearted book to read, full of wonderful characters that come to life on each page, think about picking up The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow.  You will be pleasantly surprised, just as I was.

 

Be blessed,

 

~ P

Hello In There

On Friday, I noticed that we were getting the HBO channel, which we do not subscribe to.  Yipee!!  Free movies this weekend!!  While perusing the channel guide to see what was playing, I noticed that Bette Midler had a special on from Las Vegas.  It reminded me of the last time I last saw her perform.

It was many, many years ago, sometime in the late ‘70’s, that I saw Bette Midler on another HBO special.  She was quite the performer then.  Out of all the songs she sang in that show, there was one song that has left a mark on my heart to this day.  It’s the song called “Hello In There.” 
 

Before she sings the song, Bette tells a story about a 400 lb. lady she passes in the streets of NYC.  The lady is going bald on the crown of her head and there on the crown sits a fried egg.  Bette prays asking God not to let her wake up the next morning and decide to put a fried egg on her top of her head; but if she does, she prays that nobody will notice; but if they do notice and want to talk about her having a fried egg on top of her head, she prays that she won’t hear them talk about it. 

 

She goes on to say that sooner or later everyone will get a fried egg, call it what you want, but everyone will get one; some will wear it on the outside and some on the inside.  After this moving performance, she begins to sing the song “Hello In There.”

 

The song is also very moving.  It’s a slow melody with sad lyrics.  They almost make you want to cry.  It’s about the loneliness of the elderly.

 

Imagine.  You are in the twilight years of your life.  Your children, if you had any, are grown and have moved away.  You don’t hear much from them.  You feel alone even if you are not.  Life doesn’t seem to matter like it used to.  You don’t do much anymore.  You sit and stare and think about things that were.  You think about getting in touch with old friends, but don’t because nothing has changed and you don’t have much to say.  Loneliness consumes you and you let it.  You feel invisible.  You go through the motions each day and the people around you don’t know how lonely you really are because you can’t tell them or don't want them to know.  You are satisfied to sit on your porch and stare out into the world as it passes you by. 

 

All those years ago, the “fried egg” story impressed upon me that everyone should be treated with dignity and respect no matter what is different about them.  We are all different in our own unique ways.  The song showed me I need to be gentle and kind to all, especially the elderly.

 

The last verse of the song says,

So if you're out walking down the street sometime
and you spot some hollow ancient eyes,
please don’t just pass them by and stare
as if you didn't care.

        Say, "Hello in there. Hello."

I took this to heart.  Over the years I have had several opportunities to wave to strangers sitting on their porch.  It lifts my heart as I watch them smile back and wave.  I know they are wondering who I am and how do they know me.  Even if it's just for a few minutes, I hope I have given them something different to think about, maybe even taking their mind off of some trouble they are having.  I like this.  It makes me feel good about waving to them.

Since moving to Blacksburg, Rick and I have been waving to an elderly, white haired lady who lives on Lime Street.  We see her sitting on her porch most Sunday mornings as we drive by on our way to church.  I can see the questions on her face as she waves back, uncertain of who we are.  I am always disappointed when I don't see her sitting on the porch because it lifts my soul to wave and say, "Hello in there."  I pray it does the same for her.

Hugs ♥

~ P

I was able to find Bette Midler’s performance on YouTube and it was still very moving to me.  Click on this link if you want to watch it. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hn0YqNvBvy4&feature=results_main&playnext=1&list=PL043345848EE3240B

Before and After

I watched a movie today titled Before and After.  It was a story about how your life can change in an instant when something tramatic happens to you. Life as you knew it is no more.  It's something that you can't forsee.  It just happens.  You can never be the same as you were before this incident happened. 

Sometimes an auto accident can be a "before and after" incident, especially if one is seriously hurt.  Sometimes, the incident can happen to someone else, such as a family member (as was the case in this movie), that causes your life to suddenly and drastically change. 
 

I got to thinking about incidents in my life that were “before and after” moments.  I am happy to say I have not had any bad ones.  My philosophy is “change is good.”  I always try to embrace the new that comes to my life.  In some ways I even look forward to it.

 

Now marriage can certainly bring about change.  I’ve had three of them and all were different.  In each I was a different person; young and demure in my first, fearful and dependent in my second, and mature and confident in my third.  Each one helped mold me into the person I am today.

 

Babies for sure change how things are.  Your life is never the same after you start having babies.  Your time is no longer you own and no longer scheduled by you.  Everything revolves around your kids, and that’s okay.  They are your life now and you want to give and do for them everything you didn’t have.

Jobs can certainly change things up.  Sometimes you have to move around to find them, like Rick and I do.  Sometimes you end up doing something completely different from the job you had before.  Sometimes your job takes you to a new town where you can begin anew, like when I moved from Centereach, NY to Kissimmee, FL.  THAT was a huge change.

 

Most of these changes to your life you can see coming, some by a mile away.  Others are a surprise.  The biggest “before and after” moment that I had no idea was coming was the day, the hour and the minute I gave my heart to Jesus Christ—October 31, 1992, 3:15 p.m.  It was a Saturday.

 

On that day God opened my eyes and I saw things in a new way.  On that day I became a child of God.  On that day one minute I was one way and the next minute I was different.  They don't call it Amazing Grace for nothing!

 

My advice would be to prepare as best you can for change.  Be as flexible as a willow so you can flow and go, but also be as sturdy as an oak so you won’t buckle under the pressure that always seems to come when "before" suddenly becomes "after."

Bountiful blessings to you all,

~P

A Very Perplexing Question

Rick and I spent the Memorial Day weekend at my brother’s cabin in north Georgia, just outside of Blairsville--population around 20,000.  We always enjoy going there and spending time with Mike and BJ.  That weekend there was an arts and crafts festival going on in downtown Blairsville.  We walked around and looked at the creativity of all the vendors.  I saw some outstanding things.  I purchased a handmade ceramic cross strung on leather rope and some glazed pecans that were to die for.  We had lunch at a little restaurant called The Hole In The Wall.  It’s been there since 1931.  I had a yummy club sandwich with chips.

Back at the cabin, Mike grilled burgers for dinner, Angus Steak burger patties from Walmart—so good I had to purchase some after I returned home.  Afterwards we all played a mean game of Sequence.  The girls beat the guys (again) ten games to seven.

Sometime during the weekend I read the local newspaper, the North Georgia News.  It is your typical small town newspaper.  In it I found an article where the writer asked that age old question, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”  Listed were several answers supposedly given by famous people.  It was a very amusing read.  I even laughed out loud at several of the responses.  After I was done reading, I said to myself, “now here is something I can blog about.”

I looked online today and found a similar article.  Apparently this piece has been around for a while.  I saw one from 2006, but the one I read was updated to include people in the news in 2008.  I’ve copied the article here for your enjoyment.  You may have seen this before and maybe even received it as an email.

 

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

SARAH PALIN: Before it got to the other side, I shot the chicken, cleaned and dressed it, and had chicken burgers for lunch.

BARACK OBAMA: The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a change! The chicken wanted change!

JOHN MC CAIN: My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the road.

HILLARY CLINTON: When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure right from Day One that every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn’t about me.

GEORGE W. BUSH: We don’t really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.

BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with that chicken. What is your definition of chicken?

AL GORE: I invented the chicken.

DR. PHIL: The problem we have here is that this chicken doesn’t realize that he must first deal with the problem on this side of the road before it goes after the problem on the other side of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he’s acting by not taking on his current problems before adding new problems.  (My personal favorite!)

OPRAH: Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I’m going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.

ANDERSON COOPER, CNN: We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed access to the other side of the road.

NANCY GRACE: That chicken crossed the road because he’s guilty! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks.

MARTHA STEWART: No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer’s Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.

DR SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I’ve not been told.

GRANDPA: In my day we didn’t ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.

BARBARA WALTERS: Isn’t that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart-warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its lifelong dream of crossing the road.

BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken 2008, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook. Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken 2008. This new platform is much more stable and will never crash or need to be rebooted.

ALBERT EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?

COLONEL SANDERS: Did I miss one?


Pretty funny, don't you agree?  So what do you think?  Why did the chicken cross the road?  Is it as simple as "to get to the other side," or is there a deeper spiritual meaning to this question?  The mystery continues.

I'll leave you with this:

A cow and a chicken break out of jail and a road is the only thing between them and freedom. The chicken then tells the cow to go ahead and cross it, but says that he will turn back. When asked why, he answered that if he crossed the road, it will raise many questions.     

LOL!!

~ P

Welcome To The Family

Most people know everyone on their immediate family tree, at least down to cousin level.  I, on the other hand, do not. 

Dad came from a large family.  He was born in Morovis, Puerto Rico.  He was one of sixteen siblings. (!!)  So many aunts and uncles equates to a lot of cousins.  As the cousins all went in different directions, it was hard to keep in touch (pre-Facebook), resulting in lost connections with most of them.

Mom came from a much smaller family.  She was born in Vienna, Austria and it was only her and her two brothers. 

Her younger brother, Leo, was a painter (pictures not walls).  I say "was" because he passed away last year.  That's sad because I never got to meet my Uncle Leo.  The timing was never quite right.  He visited America once when I was living in Florida and I couldn't go back for his visit.  Then in 1987, when I visited Vienna with my parents, he was living elsewhere and didn't come home for our visit.  Leo never married.  He was living in southern Austria with his lady friend when he passed away.   He had no children, at least none that we know of.

Thomas is Mom's older brother and he still lives in Vienna, Austria.  He is seventy now.  He was married but recently got a divorce.  He and my Aunt Elisabeth have one daughter, also named Elisabeth (I like the way they spell their name--with an "S" and not a "Z").  She keeps in touch with me through Facebook.  I haven't seen my Uncle Thomas since July 1998, when he came to America to attend Dad's funeral.

You would think it would be easier to keep track of Mom's family tree than it would my Dad's, you know, since there are a whole lot less of them.  I thought so too, until I received a phone call from my mother this morning.

I found out I have a new cousin.  She was born on March 14, 1975 (yes, in 1975--that is not a typo).  Her name is Felicity Savage and she is the daughter of my Uncle Thomas.  Surprise!!

Mom said she told me about Felicity years ago when she first became aware of her. Felicity called out of the blue looking for her father. She said she even told me that Felicity was an author of science fiction/fantasy books.  I don't remember Mom telling me this, but that may be due to old age on my Mother's part...or just maybe on mine.

For those of you who do not know my Uncle Thomas, he was quite a character in his younger days and also quite the ladies man.  He worked as a truck driver, the eighteen wheeler over the road type.  He used to drive all over Europe and back in the 1970's he even came to America for a while to drive our roads.  That is where this story began.

From what my mother told me (again?), Uncle Thomas met a lady from South Carolina named Helen.  Thomas was living in Charleston when he lived in the States.  Together they had a daughter, Felicity.  She was born in Columbia, South Carolina (not too far from where I am now).

Uncle Thomas may have had a hand in naming Felicity, as my grandmother's name was Felicitas.  I think it is too much of a coinicendence not to be true.

The reason for today's phone call to Mom was to get in touch with Thomas to inform him that Felicity's mother, Helen, had passed away.  Mom obliged and gave the caller (Felicity's aunt in Boston) her brother's address and phone number.

A Google search turned up a few pieces of interesting information about Felicity.  I found her website.  She is indeed an author of about 20 novels and short stories.  She was very popular in the SciFi world and published her first novel at the age of 19.

This is where the story gets a little confusing. 

I found a short biography written by Felicity at age 20.  In it she said, "her southern belle mother met her father, a Viennese truck driver, in Paris."  She said she grew up in France, Ireland and Scotland.  She also said her mother died when she was 14 and she and her brothers were sent to the US to live with an aunt.  That is when she started writing. 

I'm not sure what's right and what's wrong in this story.  I may never know.  What I do know is I have a cousin out there that I am going to try to contact to officially welcome her into the family.

One last note--I found a later biography of Felicity on Smashwords, a publisher of E-books.  In it it says that Felicity lives in Japan with her husband and two cats.  I knew instantly I was going to like this woman!

Welcome to the family, Felicity!

~ P

The Rope

It's raining here today in Blacksburg, SC.  It started last night and has rained on and off all day.  It's hard to get motivated when it's raining.  It's a good time to take a nap, watch an old movie or play Words With Friends on Facebook.

That's what I was doing when I found myself sitting idle waiting for my opponents (I have 7 games going at the moment) to play their words.  While waiting, I decided to organize my Pictures folder on my computer's hard drive. 

I started with pictures of my cats (naturally).  I noticed I had cat pictures in several different folders.  I started searching for all my cat pictures and moving them into one folder.  In one particular folder that had a bunch of different pictures, I came upon these.

I received them in an email.  The subject line was THE ROPE.  The date I saved the pictures was 9/1/2006, so I've had them for quite a few years and didn't remember that I'd saved them.  Stumbling on to them today seemed like a wink from God.  There's a message here I believe He wants me to share with you.  You may have seen this before, but it is worthy of repeating.



Isaiah 41:13 (NIV) says, "For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you."

Whatever it is that you may be going through, holding on to, or trying to get away from, just let go and let God.

~ P

The Secret to Losing Weight

I’m a big fan of Dr. Phil.  He makes sense to me.

I like his older shows from several years ago the best. I remember when he first started appearing on Oprah’s show. I would watch him when I got home from work. I’d even find myself telling people things I'd heard Dr. Phil say.

Dr. Phil is full of statements that make you think about yourself and what it is you want out of life. Have you ever heard Dr. Phil say,

·          How’s that working for you?

·         Are you doing what you're doing today because you want to do it, or because it's what you were doing yesterday?

·         Sometimes you make the right decision, sometimes you make the decision right.

·         If you want more, you have to require more from yourself.

·         Awareness without action is worthless.

·         Failure is no accident.

·         Sometimes you just got to give yourself what you wish someone else would give you.

·         You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge.

Gosh, these are all good.  Dr. Phil is down to earth.  He’s a plain speaking Texan who can look at a situation, sum it up, and give advice that is logical. I like that.

On one particular show, the topic they were talking about was the difficulties of losing weight. Of course I listened. I’ve had a problem with putting on and taking off weight for many years. I listened as a lady from the studio audience was talking about how she found it so hard to stick to a diet, that it was hard resisting the cravings, how she would always “fall off the wagon” after just a few weeks, that she had been on so many different diets and nothing seemed to work. That lady could have been me.

I needed to hear what Dr. Phil had to say. I just knew he would have the answer to her (and my) dilemma.  I leaned forward giving the show my complete attention and waited for Dr. Phil to speak. When he did, I was surprised at the simplicity of his words.

He said, “Why don’t you just grow up!”

Grow up?  What kind of answer is that?  This was not the answer I had been expecting.  I don't know what I expected really, but asking a then almost 60 year old to grow up and stop acting like an immature little kid and take responsibility for her bad eating habits was not it.

That was a few years ago. Today, when I find myself saying “I can’t do it” or “it’s just too hard” or “just this one time,” I tell myself to “just grow up!”  Sometimes I listen to this Dr. Phil advice.  Other times, I give in to that little kid inside me and for the moment, I’m satisfied.

There’s another pearl of wisdom I’ve heard Dr. Phil say.

 “The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior.”

If that’s true, I may never grow up where my eating habits are concerned.  But I have hope.  I still have a few more years left in me to “grow up.”

Thank you Dr. Phil.

~ P

Choices

I started my Spring cleaning this week. 

Aside from the normal cleaning I do each week, once a year I get out the toothbrush and really scrub the place down.  I am not a whirlwind cleaner so it takes me a few weeks to get it all done.  Why so long?  Because I don’t let cleaning get in the way of other things I like to do, such as spending time with Rick, getting on the computer, writing my blog, watching my favorite TV shows, reading my Nook, and occasionally getting out of the RV so I won’t become a hermit.  Besides, cleaning is work and you do remember that I am retired.

My Spring cleaning begins with reorganizing.  Reorganizing can take a lot of time, especially since I have 37 cabinets, 24 drawer, and 7 closets to deal with.  But this is the part of Spring cleaning that I like the best.  It is so satisfying when you’re done and everything is neat and in order again.  It’s also an opportunity to see again some precious things I tucked away for safe keeping.

I started in the bedroom this week (11 cabinets, 11 drawers, 3 closets).  I unloaded every cabinet, drawer and closet (not all at the same time) to see what I had, what I wanted to keep, what I wanted to give away and what I wanted to toss in the trash.  My bed was covered with stuff.  As I went through everything, I came across a few items that made me stop and reminisce.

Tucked away in my office drawer with paper clips, pens, stapler, etc. and underneath everything, I found some cards I had received (from my mom, my son, my sister-in-law Debbie, my friend Barb), our wedding napkin (it says, Our Wedding Day, Pat and Rick, February 3^rd, 1989), a note Rick wrote to me (it starts out, To My True Love…gosh he can be so romantic sometimes), and two quotes that I liked enough to write down on paper.

One quote is by Joseph Epstein and says, “All men and women are born, live, suffer and die; what distinguishes us one from another is our dreams, whether they be dreams about worldly or unworldly things, and what we do to make them come about. We do not choose to be born. We do not choose our parents. We do not choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We do not, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time and conditions of our death. But within this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we live.”

I really like this.  On the one hand it takes the pressure off because I didn’t have a choice in beginning my life.  But on the other hand it puts the pressure on because now that I am, I must be.  I must choose my own path.  I must create and fulfill my own dreams.  So profound.

Just yesterday I was on Facebook trading comments with a former classmate from Junior High and High School.  We were talking about our days in Junior High School.  We were picking songs from that time that had meaning to us back then.  My choice was, We Gotta Get Out Of This Place, a 1965 song by the Animals. I was just fourteen. 

At fourteen, I wanted to grow up too fast—get through school, drive a car, get a job, get married.  I wanted it all.  However, I didn’t always think things through.  I didn't always make good choices.  I sometimes made bad decisions and sometimes let my peers make decisions for me, and not all of them were good ones.  Looking back today I see where I went off my path.  I didn’t dream big enough.  I didn’t demand more from myself.  I settled for what I thought I could attain on my own power when I should have looked to others for guidance.  Maybe that was me just being fourteen.  I don't know.  There was no manual for me to go by.  Am I sorry?  No.  It was my choice and I believe I’ve had a pretty good life.  Could it have been different?  Yes.  Better?  Who knows.  What I do know is that I am happy where I am and that is all that matters.

The other quote I found in my office drawer says, “From the outside looking in, it’s impossible to understand.  From the inside looking out, it’s impossible to explain.” 

Yep, that’s my life in a nutshell.

 ~ P

The Cat Who...

Anyone who knows me knows I love cats. I would have more of them if it weren’t for litter boxes, hairballs and the fact that my husband Rick says two are enough. That said, I sometimes get my cat fix by reading about them.

My mother is an avid reader and so am I. She will occasionally send me books to read that she thinks are good. They are usually about cats. She has sent me Dewey, The Library Cat and Homer’s Odyssey, a story about a blind cat. They were both fun to read. But the books my mother thought were really good were The Cat Who books, written by Lilian Jackson Braun.  So good that Mom sent me 28 of the 29 books in the series.

The Cat Who books are mystery novels featuring a reporter named Qwilleran and his two Siamese cats, Koko and Yum-Yum. The books titles all begin with the words The Cat Who. The Cat Who Could Read Backwards, The Cat Who Sniffed Glue, and The Cat Who Talked to Ghosts are some of the titles. All the books follow a similar storyline with a murder or crime of some sort and Koko helping Qwilleran solve the mystery. Qwilleran believes Koko has a 6^th sense and that is why he can help solve these mysteries. Qwilleran attributes this to the fact that Koko has a total of 60 whiskers while ordinary cats only have 48. I once tried counting Lucky’s and Halle’s whiskers to see if they were “ordinary” but they wouldn’t sit still long enough for me to count and I kept losing my place. I enjoyed reading the entire series (except the last one, which my mother didn’t like so she never sent it to me).

Now that you know the premise of The Cat Who books, I need your help solving my own Cat Who mystery.  I assure you no murder or crime is involved.  My cat Halle is The Cat Who Likes To Lick Plastic. She seems to like Wal-Mart grocery bags, zip lock storage baggies and the plastic that surrounds a case of water. This last one is her favorite, but that just might be because it is kept on the floor and easily available to her.  When she’s not eating, sleeping or looking out the window, Halle can be found licking plastic wherever she may find it.

Halle getting her "fix" from plastic

Can all that plastic licking really be good for her?  I have tried stopping her by saying, “No Halle.” But that doesn’t deter her. She will stop for a few moments then as soon as my focus moves on to something else, she starts up again.

Halle licking a zip lock baggie I keep receipts in

My online search for an answer led me to some reasonable and some pretty wild explanations such as, cats like the noise it makes when they lick it; plastic bags are made from corn and cats like the taste; they have OATD—Overactive Tongue Disorder and will lick most anything. These all sound somewhat reasonable to me, but my favorite one is that our cats want us to think they are crazy. It's all part of the kitty plan for world domination.

So what do you think? Noise? Smell? OATD? Or do you believe Halle is planning world domination?  To be honest, I think Lucky and Halle have already established domination here in their little part of the world. Whatever the reason, Halle seems content to lick plastic so I think I’ll just ignore this strange habit of hers and get on with my day.  Who am I to judge.

~ P