Month: July 2013

So, I was talking to Jose and he got me all ruled up, I climbed on my soapbox right onto my high horse.
Here’s the thing God can see everything, everywhere. Through walls, in buildings, in a field, in a box with a fox. He sees all, knows all, will judge all. Some people don’t seem to know that, or understand that. Please do not lie to my face then tell me you are a Christian.
I will call you out in a heartbeat, I don’t care who you are. I am astounded by the way people behave. Oliver North will tell you that the old I was just following orders doesn’t fly in a court of law and it will not fly with God on judgement day.
It seems people have lost the ability to treat others fairly and with dignity, respect. Forget rewarding loyalty, backstabbing and blatantly being a sycophant is the order of the day.
When will humans learn this is not the way life is supposed to be? When will all of us start lifting others up instead of seeing people who think for themselves as a threat?

There comes a time in every relationship when one has to take a good hard look at it and decide if it is worth continuing. I am at this point in my relationship with Candy Crush or whatever you call it. It is more work than fun and I am continually frustrated with my progress. At times it seems to taunt me with the way it seems easy enough then it takes me days to get through a level to continue on. I am going to have to give this serious thought.
In happier news, we celebrated my beautiful granddaughters birthday yesterday. She is so funny, beautiful, smart and simply amazing. I can’t believe she will be 6 tomorrow, the time goes by way too fast.
I got to spend time with her Saturday as well, Jeffrey needed to do some shopping for the party so I got to at with her. Yay me!!
Today begins another work week, another week to get back on the bandwagon. As far as dieting goes, cottage cheese and strawberries for breakfast followed by salad for lunch. All I really want is puffy Cheetos and diet coke. I have not had diet coke since the beginning of March. No soda whatsoever. I feel bad for me.
I did have cake and ice cream yesterday at the party. So now I have to be good.

I like sitting in my car on my lunch break. I listen to the radio, sometimes read a book and play on my phone. Today I am so very tired, I seem to be tired all of the time lately. It seems there is not one time I am brimming with energy. Perhaps I have some sort of energy zapping disease. I don’t know what it could be. I do know I need some uninterrupted sleep, I am not willing to take ambien again. I do not want to sing the night away. That is not pretty, the sound of my voice belting out songs, just gross.
Yesterday was our nations birthday, I celebrated my freedom by working. Then Taco Bueno after, that wast reward. I work because I don’t have anyone to celebrate with, my kids are with their dad. It’s always been that way, first he had a lake house, now he is in the country. Way more fun with him. I get that.
So I work and get Taco Bueno, which makes me happy.
I was able to give motherly advice today, which makes me feel needed.
I just learned that this month is national ice cream month. How can I be skinny with things like this happening in the world!!! I am fighting a losing battle. I just need a good, old fashioned flu.

There’s a Beatles song that says one is the loneliest number, I disagree, I believe one to be a great number. Maybe I feel that way due to the fact I have really been the number one all of my life. I learned to be self reliant at a young age, learned that the only person I could ever really count on was, well, me.
I know I talk a lot about my kids taking care of me when I’m old, ok, I talk about Elizabeth Anne taking care of me. However I really don’t expect her to, I want my children to not have the burden of taking care of me when I am old. I fully expect to be alone when I die, it is only fitting since I have been alone since birth.
I often think about where I want to be buried, in Texas or Owasso. I am leaning more toward Owasso. My son is buried there and I don’t like to think of him being alone. I also don’t want my children burdened with thinking they have to visit my grave.
I think about death a lot, perhaps due to the fact I have been going to funerals regularly since I was a little girl. I think about heaven, who I will see, who I won’t.
I wonder if I will get to see my BBFF because everyone knows that the Baptist and Catholics are segregated. Will I have to share my mansion? Does everyone have their own? Can I share if I want to? Can I choose my age? Because I seriously want to be 16, wild, fun, no worries and able to play my music as loud as I want. How many animals can I legally have? Can I get a lion? All these questions, very few answers.

Well summer is upon us and with it brings nostalgia. I feel it keenly certain times of year, this is one of them.
My mind is filled with memories of the little white house in the country. Of fresh fruit and vegetables that we picked, plucked or dug ourselves.
My favorite was the green tomato, I LOVE fried green tomatoes, cliche for a southern girl I know but there you have it.
I would go down to the garden as soon as the tomatoes were big enough to fry, pluck one off of the tomato plant and take it to my mom. I would say look what I found and she would fry it for me. Until this became a habit, one day she said if you pick anymore tomatoes before their time I am going to tan your hide. Totally hollow threat coming from my mom, however I knew if she got my dad involved that would change the situation. So I said what if one falls off and I find it on the ground, she said in that case of course we can fry it up. You see we didn’t waste anything God gave us. A week later I walked into the house, green tomato in hand and said look what I found on the ground. Mom stare in full force, “and just how hard did you have to shake that tomato plant for it to fall on the ground?” Blink, blink, swallow, swallow. “Well you worked hard for this one, it’d be a shame to waste it.”
One week later my mom came whistling through the house, hand stretched out, green tomato in it. “Look what I found on the ground.” From that time forward that was our joke. Whenever we had fried green tomatoes it must have fallen on the ground.
There is something so basic, so primal about working the land. Growing food and animals to feed ones family and in hard times your neighbors.
There are times I miss it, digging in the dirt, the feel of it, the aroma, the life sustaining nutrients it gives us via fruits and vegetables.
My parents had a gift, farming is a gift, not everyone can do it. My grandpa and my dad had two gifts, farming and mechanics.
I am sometimes amazed at how all three of my children exhibit abilities that my grandfathers side if the family has.
My sons with their mechanical abilities and love of cars, which comes from both sides of their lineage. My dad said my ex-husband was the best mechanic he had ever met. That was high praise coming from my dad. Jeffrey and Alex have inherited a double dose of car knowledge. Their grandpa and great grandpa would beam with pride if they could see them now.
Elizabeth Anne has the touch when it comes to animals, great and small. They love her and she loves them, once again something she inherited from her grandpa and great grandpa. I know without a doubt my dad would have loved nothing better than to go to her farm and give her advice on her animals. I can see my grandpa there, in his overalls walking the land with her and telling her stories about when he was a boy growing up on the farm.
When I look at my children and their abilities and how they have chosen to channel them I am filled with pride at how they are thriving. Even as the grow into adulthood I still look at them with the eyes of a mother and am amazed at what God gave me in them.