God help me...I am becoming a 'redneck.' Or at least it would seem so to all APPEARANCES. Though not yet sporting the appliances on the porches, or a retired antique vehicle on concrete blocks, I have now been reduced to having to hold my vehicle together with duck tape.

My old 1984 Dodge pickup has seen better days. It's a full size pickup built on a chassis and powered by a big souped up engine, equipped to haul 3,000 pounds of horse flesh from here to there and everywhere. Though I've never been able to scrape up enough extra cash to invest in a horse trailer in which to put the 3,000 pounds of horse (my 2 mares TOGETHER would be just a little over HALF that weight), it has been immeasurably useful as an all-round utility farm and work truck, hauling countless bales of hay, livestock and domestic feeds, furniture, appliances, etc.

My ex-husband bought it for me somewhere in the neighborhood of 8-10 years ago, from a friend of mine who had bought it in New Jersey, brand new off the lot. Though she had put the miles on it, she had taken immaculate care of it, so it was well worth the price of $1500. It's only 'issues' were an automatic window on the driver's side that no longer worked and a small dent along the bed wall where some goof ball ran into it in a parking lot.

Since then, it has not been afforded the luxury of a garage or carport. Though we had a nice automobile shelter adequate for 3 vehicles while still married and living with the ex, the shelter area was reserved for my ex's fine vehicle, tractor and junked truck. My automobile (sort of like me) were always at the bottom of his priority list and left to fend for themselves against the elements. Thus, the exterior finish has taken a substantial beating -- most of it is still THERE, it's just rather dulled. I don't wash it for fear that what paint is there will come off under such duress, so I now consider the accumulation of dirt and debris more as an added layer of protection that brands the truck as a tried and true UTILITY vehicle that actually WORKS for a living.

My truck has NEVER cared for cold weather. Whenever the temp falls to below 60, we begin to have starting 'issues' in the mornings. God only knows how much gas I've burned in the driveway just to get it going, and depending upon just how cold is cold, it has been known to chug and cough half way to the office. And oh, does it love to drink the gas! And not CHEAP gas mind you -- if it's not the highest quality, highest octane available, it sputters out altogether.

Over the years, the exterior has acquired a couple of more very small dents and scratches, but nothing substantial. Years ago, someone keyed a 4-letter word onto the area over the left tire. I've always assumed the assailant to have been an angry ex-coworker out for revenge because soon after a layoff in which we both lost our jobs, I was re-hired and she wasn't -- she had a reputation of keying cars when angry.

The automatic locks stopped working soon after I got the truck but that was OK. I was notorious for locking my keys up in my vehicles -- I did that once while the car was running with my baby parrot inside -- ran out almost an entire tank of gas waiting for the locksmith to arrive to the rescue. The built-in AM/FM radio stopped picking up FM stations years ago. That's OK too, since the ride is generally so noisy it was hard to hear the radio anyway. The AC shut down about 3 summers ago. Who'd have ever thought I could survive South Carolina summers without AC?! It's amazing what you can endure when you have no better options at your disposal. Though I could not afford to get the AC back up and going, I did have to fork out enough to repair the automatic windows though. I was able to swing the $150 to get those going but had to put off repairing the automatic locks for another day.

I've acquired some very innovative techniques for dealing with the heat issues. First, I choose my parking spaces wisely, always on the lookout for trees. Since the finish is about gone anyway, tree sap and bird droppings are of no concern to me, it's the SHADE I'm coveting. In the parking lot where I work there is only one tree. Since another co-worker had claimed its shade long before I was assigned that parking lot, I opted to park on the grass next to her, under the same tree. I'm sure I'm cussed by the lawn maintenance folks when they can't get to the grass beneath my fine antique -- if they have left any commentary on the paint like the ex-coworker from years ago, I haven't noticed it. I bought a clip-on fan that plugs into the cigarette lighter for unbearably hot days when I MUST drive in the hottest parts of the day, though I'm usually able to plan errands, etc. around the hottest daytime hours. Last summer, I also stumbled upon an incredible INTERNAL AC system -- eating ICE!!! Take along a cup of tiny ice cubes or crushed ice while driving in the heat and munch it continuously -- it cools you from the inside out and it's effectiveness is PHENOMENAL!!! There have been many trips I'm quite sure I could not have survived had it not been for my trusty insulated jug full of ice!

The door on the driver's side has been giving me fits for years. It rarely closes completely -- some problem with the hinge that supposedly would cost an arm and leg to repair. There have been a couple of times when it would not shut at all -- once I had to secure it with a dog leash from the floorboard. Last time, I had to drive 12 miles home with one hand while holding the door shut with the other, until I could get to someone who could make some adjustments on it. It now seems that running over the countless potholes in our county's road system has jarred something very vital loose inside the door -- the inside frame is now coming loose from the outside frame and the small, roll-out window at the front will not longer close, due to the misalignment of the inner and outer frames. I've wondered if said misalignment may have something to do with what sounds like a short or something in the automatic locks that have never worked -- if you push one down, it goes crazy with clicking and bouncing until you pull on it. By some inexplicable miracle, I've recently managed to get the door to close if I hold my mouth just right, so am now committed to entering and exiting from the passenger side to avoid further stressing the door until I can come across some extra money (income tax returns are my only hope) to repair it. The only way I've found effective of breaking the habit of opening and closing it however, has been to cover the inside and outside handles with duck tape. The useful gray tape also worked well sealing off the part of the uncloseable window so that rain will no longer flood my floorboard. Now, the window on the passenger's side has quit working again, so if God does not bless me with a magical moment when there's enough spark to the wiring to get it back up, I suppose the duck tape will be useful in securing a clear plastic window in preparation for the next monsoon.

Now, with all it's faults exposed, in the truck's defense, let me just say that most importantly, it's PAID for. The insurance is cheap and taxes are virtually nothing. I take it to a trusted mechanic who tunes things, changes oil, repairs belts, checks/replaces fluids, etc. every 6 months, and tells me what kind of problems he may see looming in the near future. It's expensive to replace the huge 16" tires but I've found a great place where I can get 2 good tires for half the normal price anywhere else, so I get 2 new ones every couple of years and rotate the old ones to the back. Only 2 out the 10 years I've owned it has this old truck cost me over $250 per year to maintain -- and that is including the regular diet of 10W40 motor oil it requires on a regular basis, between oil changes. One year I had to have $400 worth of carburetor work done (I think most of that money was actually pocketed by a dishonest mechanic and little work was actually done to the truck) and another year I had to have the brakes replaced (at about the same cost). Most folks I know are paying at least that much just to drive their fancy new vehicles every MONTH...and that DOESN'T include taxes and insurance. 

It wasn't until very recently that I realized just how well-loved my truck was among others who have become acquainted with it. One morning at work, someone came through declaring a transfer truck had gone through the parking lot fence where I parked my truck. I anxiously ran to the canteen to see if I could survey the damage from a window. I was halfway to the canteen when I noticed that my entire department was following me -- all 9 of my co-workers -- seems they were as concerned for my truck's well being as I was! Turns out the transfer truck went through the fence at the other end of the parking lot -- my truck rested unscathed on its little patch of shady grass. My supervisor was encouraging me on the way back to our work area by saying that even if it had been damaged, I could've collected insurance and replaced it with another just like it. In unison, about 3 of my co-workers proclaimed in response to that remark, "There IS no other truck like THAT one!!!"

So is it time to retire the trusty old truck in shame and replace it with another? Taking into account my financial condition that's not really an option. So we drive on, duck tape and clear plastic window replacement flapping in the breeze. Do I hide behind my sunglasses in shame? NEVER!!! I sit tall and proud in my tattered upholstered seat. This old truck has been more faithful and dependable to me than any PERSON has ever been (except for my wonderful dad). Though age has caused some aesthetic compromise, and conveniences now falter, the old Ram still gives me its all and gets me there and back safely, for a lot less monthly costs than its new and flashy counterparts. We are a team, this old Ram and I...for better or worse...for richer or poorer...in sickness and in health...to death do us part.

At 50 something (I forgot whether it's 51 or 52...when you get this age, the specifics aren't that important -- it's enough to know I'm over 50), I find I'm experiencing somewhat of a second adolescence.

I recently bought a guitar and a book on how to learn to play it. I'm attempting to learn Spanish and French (I thought I'd try learning both at one time but quickly learned that was not a wise move...don't know of any area where Spench is spoken). I'm learning Pilates and am planning on enrolling in dance classes as soon as I can get a little ahead with my finances. I'd toyed with the idea of getting a small tattoo but cannot resolve the issue of the pain involved with that form of artistic expression. Maybe a henna tattoo...

I'm overweight for the first time in my life, I get winded going up a flight of stairs (though my endurances has improved noticeably since I started exercising) and I get stiff when I sit for over an hour. Yet oddly, I feel more ALIVE today than I ever have in my life. Life just seems so enriching and so worthwhile, even when it's bad, it's still LIFE...and that's GOOD. I'm having more fun as an old bat than I did as a cute young Barbie doll college kid, and I'm no where NEAR as insecure as I was then.

Age seems to bring with it a peculiar confidence and boldness that I could just never get a handle on when I was young. Life circumstances have led me into many situations where I was forced to learn many new skills I'd have likely never made the effort to learn had the need not been forced on me. I've learned I could do many things I'd never have thought I could do. I've learned I could endure many things I'd never have believed I could endure.

I must be feeling unusually content tonight because I know I'm off work for a week. Can't afford to go on a real vacation like leaving home or something, like NORMAL (what is normal anyway?) people do, but it's still a relief just to know I don't HAVE to get up and go somewhere and plug away for 8 hours in the morning, only to come HOME and plug away for another 4-5 hours before collapsing into bed to begin another monotonous cycle of work, work, die...work, work, die, etc.

So the moral of this little musing is? Much good can come from the bad and uncomfortable -- stability, endurance, patience, confidence. Remember, just as every good thing must come to an end, so must every bad thing -- just in time for another good thing -- and life goes on and the circle goes round and round and round. Just relax and enjoy the ride.

It's the first day of my last vacation week of the year, and I've been utterly WORTHLESS since getting off work last Friday. The last week of vacation I had, I committed to getting some things done in the house...things long overdue...the things there's never TIME to do on the regular schedule. I ended up putting in 10-15 hours per day and utterly exhausted myself physically, mentally and emotionally and was in worse shape going back into the daily work grind than when I left it. I vowed I would NEVER do that again. In fact, my public declaration for this vacation time to all concerned (particularly family) was:

"Expect NOTHING from me during this time. Ask nothing of me during this time. This will be MY time. I may do some work and I may not -- depends entirely upon my mood -- point being if I DO work, it will be because I WANT to, not because I have to or because I'm expected to."

So far I've been wonderfully faithful to my word -- I've been a total slug.

Am finally beginning to discover some very interesting folks here at Mindsay! Despite all my whining and complaining about V3, it's becoming an increasingly comfortable place to muddle around.

I have rats in my barn. I confess that it pains me to kill a mouse -- they are destructive to be sure but they are also CUTE. But rats are another story -- I believe them to be something akin to spiders -- they are both surely forms of demons from hell. Except for writing spiders -- those are pretty, they have interesting webs, and they always stay OUTSIDE -- that makes them OK. In fact, ANY spider that STAYS outside and doesn't come near ME when I'M outside is OK. All others are demons from hell.

Back to the subject at hand...RATS. Last week, I'd resolved to address the mouse issue in my tack & feed room in my barn. Mice were scurrying in every direction every time anyone entered the feed room -- they were pilfering through my boxes, knocking things off my shelves, shredding my blankets and saddle pads and saddle stuffing and leaving nasty little terds everywhere. The problem had gotten out of hand and it was time to swallow my fondness for thier cuteness and show no mercy. I cleaned up the mess in my tack/feed room, bought a grocery sack full of mouse traps and set out 8 traps in every known mouse pathway, baited with peanut butter. I also put out an entire box of mothballs in my boxes and amongst my pads & blankets to discourage further destruction of said property.

The 3 days following, we were buffeted with the remnants of hurricane Frances. They were long work days for me too, so I didn't get back to the tack room until Friday. Upon inspecting my traps, while fully expecting a satisfying carnage of mouse carcasses, I was shocked to find that EVERY trap I had set had been spring. LARGE objects had been knocked from my shelves, and large items (such as packages of Kleenex, a tube of Desitin ointment, an emptied bottle of clipper blade oil, and wads of bandage material) littered the rodent entrances where the culprits had evidently attempted to steal my supplies and carry them home. And there were no more mouse terds...only HUGE RAT terds, and LOADS of them, EVERYwhere -- it looked like I'd been looted by an entire FAMILY of the vile vermon. It even appeared that they had been attempting to EAT my mothballs! And as if the destruction in my tack & feed room were not enough, they had burrowed a hole from the drainage ditch at the back of the barn into the stalls and my shed had been flooded during the monsoons from Frances. NOW I was MAD...VERY mad.

Now I do not like having to resort to drastic measures such as poisons. My heart would ache to know I might inadvertantly be responsible for the death or illness of an innocent squirrel, or some useful black snake that ate a poisoned rodent, or worse yet, some wandering pet belonging to a neighbor who might relish gnawing on a poisoned rodent. I have many pets of my own, but I either keep them in the house at all times, or I keep them contained, and/or under constant supervision when outside. My housecats keep my end of the house (it's a HUGE house, my family lives in one portion, my mom in the other -- hence my referral to "my end") relatively rodent-free...or at least they keep them far enough at bay that they cause few noticeable problems for us humans -- and they provide countless hours of entertainment for the cats. But this wanton destruction of my property called for drastic measures.

Last night, I cleaned up the rat mess and put out a box of rat poison, that promised to be able to kill with just one feeding. If it didn't kill them, it seems it did at least take the wind out of the invaders' sails, as there were very few rat terds in the feed room this morning, but clear evidence that they had helped themselves to some pretty blue poison. I placed the poison in a very protected and out-of-the-way spot and am intent on keeping the door closed and keeping any loose pieces of poison picked up. My biggest concern is that once the rats are gone and the mice return, I don't want them bringing their poisoned little selves back into my basement to die and stink, or where my cats can get them. I suppose I will just have to maintain an extra high level of studious observances around here for a while.

Ahhhh, the joys and never-ending adventures of country life. Seems no good thing comes without a price.

God I wish this new V3 had a SPELLCHECK!!! Must my illiteracy and carelessness be exposed for all the world to see??!!!!!

Since I become bored with most all things so easily and quickly, I decided a fun thing to do with this page would be to periodically rotate portions from collections of my own artwork as headers/backgrounds (now that I've learned HOW -- I'm so proud of myself!).

Thus I introduce my first in this series, "Butterfly on Poop."

As a farm girl, I'm well acquainted with many varieties of poop, and of course DIRT (though our dirt here has spent more time this summer in the state of MUD instead of dirt). Though I do enjoy a good bath after a day of hard work on the farm, I must confess that I rather enjoy the process of getting dirty and becoming one with the earth from which I was formed. When the weather is nice, I'm hard pressed to remain indoors no matter how many tasks may be demanding my time and attention. Like my father, if there is no outdoor tasks beckoning (and THAT'S a rare moment around here), I will CREATE something to do.

Back to the butterfly on poop...have you noticed my tendency to become easily side-tracked? Looking at the picture, would you have ever guessed the interesting textural background upon which the lovely little butterfly is sitting is a mixture of coarse sand, dirt and an abundance of partially decomposed, partially somewhat fresh horse manure? The grains of soil/sand/manure have almost a jewel-like appearance, albeit in variations of the color of common earth. Just goes to show, that seeing beauty is all in your perspective. These butterflies are quite small, maybe a half inch or less at most, so I had to get SUPER close to get this shot. What was funny was that the butterfly was so utterly engrossed in his feeding (POOP?!) that he was totally oblivious to my presence, much less disturbed by it. (These creatures are very prevelant around this time of year here, and they seem to have a special affinity for horse manure.)

As an artist, I have a peculiar fascination with not only obvious beauty (such as the butterfly) but also with varying textures. I have a vast collection of photography, paintings and drawings of seemingly mundane subjects such as tree bark, roots, dead leaves and yes, poop.

And so today, and for an undetermined season forthcoming (until I get bored with it), I share one of my favorite studies of texture and color with my butterfly and poop. And my determination to keep a regular supply of images prepared for display here will be good incentive to stay busy with regular production of new works!

Well it's been a week since I broke down and set out rat poison in my feed room. Poison is so environmentally unfriendly that it was truly my very last recourse, but circumstances had degenerated very quickly to a point of desperation. I have at least taken every precaution to be sure the baits are well contained within the feed room, so that nothing larger than a rat or mouse (sorry chipmunks...guess you fall in the rat/mouse category) can access them. I know my own cats will not touch a dead rodent, so am hoping that is a common characteristic among those nomadic cats that prowl the outer boundaries of my property. Am also hoping the black snake population can withstand the onslaught without too many repercussions. Perhaps I should elicit the cooperation of neighbors in capturing and relocating black snakes to my property -- many folk hate snakes of any and all kinds, but black snakes are the farmer's best friend! They not only eat rodents but also keep away poisonous varieties of snakes. Though sadly, I've only seen one around here this summer, and he lives a good distance from my barn, near the road at the end of the driveway. I think he is a chipmunk connoisseur.

As for the cat option, my 3 indoor cats keep the indoor rodent problem under control quite well. I do not let them outdoors because in this area, there are just too many hazards to their well-being and safety to allow them to roam unsupervised. And since they are accustomed the a life of ease and comfort in the house, I doubt they would take well to being locked up in a dark tack/feed room for extended periods of time. Traps weren't working either.

There must be an entire army of rodents that had taken over my barn. The last few days, they have been cleaning up at least a package of poison per day, sometimes more. This morning...signs of VICTORY -- a rat carcass in one of the stalls (and fairly good sized one at that). Not only was he likely poisoned, but judging from his flattened appearance, my fat little mare may have reclined upon or trampled him as well. Call me a monster if you will...I feel no mercy.

Since it seems life has a tendency to force many of us (especially women -- I know that sounds sexist but it's TRUE) into the role of superheros (whether we desire it or not), we would all do well to take this quiz and find out which hero we are (for those among us who don't already know). Thus we can all order our superhuman feats accordingly.

I'm always complaining because everyone looks to me for everything and expects me to be able to accomplish god-like feats on a daily basis, both on the job and at home (in what I THOUGHT was supposed to be my REFUGE?!). Lo and behold, the quiz revealed I have been running from my own identity, much as my own superhero, Aragorn from Middle Earth. Ah well, there's no hope for the weary.

It seems I am THOR. (Who the hell is THOR?!) Whatever...PLEASE, no one tell my family, friends and/or co-workers! I’m still going to continue to attempt to deny my immortal divinity whenever possible!) For the record, my results (should I be proud or should I RUN?!):

With your 60% you are: You are THOR. You are a god amongst mortals. Though sometimes pompous (who, ME??!!!), you do not have a problem handing the reigns of leadership over to others - provided they have proved themselves worthy (damn right). You are always the first into battle and the last out. You're own life means nothing when compared to others (I'm not so sure about that); though defeat is NEVER an option. Your power (huh???) is matched only by your nobility. You are Thor: god of thunder (boom boom). 19% from 1251 test takers had this profile!

But you have almost become this: With your 20 % you are: You are THE BATMAN (at least it didn't say RATman). After witnessing your parents gunned down when you were eight years old, you swore to prevent what happened to you from ever happening again. You bring your enemies to justice - no matter the cost. Your mission is a fool's errand, but that doesn't make you a fool. You know full well that you can't save everyone, that you're not perfect (who says I'm not??!!), and that you have sacrificed all traces of a normal life (what is NORMAL?!) in the pursuit of justice. You fight a daily battle to control you're rage - it is your strength and weakness. There's good, there's evil, and then there's you: The Batman. (I want a BATMOBILE!!!)

Find your inner hero! (Why can't I get these damn links to work???!!! Here's the stupid web address...copy and paste! http://www.allthetests.com/quiz08/dasquiztd.php3?testid=1082946423)

Thanks for the entertainment tip, Sandyquill!

If I do not get off my duff and DO something today...something maybe along the lines of actually cleaning up both myself and my house...one or both of us are sure to rot in this quagmire of neglect that has been my 'vacation.' And vacation I have! I'm quite sure I have not been this utterly and shamefully WORTHLESS in my entire LIFE, with the exception of periods of grave illnesses.

There is enough pet hair on the furniture and floating in the air, and some scurrying about as dust bunnies across the floor, to clothe a naked buffalo. Can one develop lung disease from a week of breathing copious amounts of pet hair?

Perhaps this type of  'rest' was what I most needed -- I had become quite burned out with my overwhelming responsibilities as the superhero god, THOR. I have definitely NOT been THOR this week...more like Super SLUG. I NEEDED it...yes...that is what I shall tell myself. I will re-enter this desperate world once more as the mighty THOR -- selflessly dedicated to serving mere mortal men, women and children --bright and early on Monday morning, refreshed and invigorated...my immortality and selfless commitment to overextending my powers renewed.

BOOM BOOM. 

Meet our new pet, a hummingbird we've named Hawg, due to his insatiable appetite. My mom loves hummingbirds, but spends so much time in her recliner that she rarely has opportunity to enjoy the view of them feeding at the feeder by our goldfish pond. When I saw some window feeders that attach to the window with suction cups, I bought a couple of more hummingbird feeders to go with it, so my mom could enjoy the view from her favorite vantage point. Now we have 3 hummingbird feeders up and their presence seems to have incited a bit of unrest amongst warring factions of hummingbirds -- there are hummingbirds buzzing around everywhere now, and fighting over the feeders like cats and dogs.

One little fellow in particular has claimed the newest window feeder for himself and he has no mind to share, save with the neighboring yellow jackets. Not only is he outrageously greedy, he is brazen and sports a voracious appetite. When I shot one of the reference photos for this painting, I was leaning out the other side of the window (it's a sliding window), only 12" away, at most. As I held the camera steadily focused on the feeder, Hawg buzzed me several times before he decided it was safe to feed in my presence (or maybe he was trying to chase ME away), but once he had settled the issue in his own mind, he soon returned to gorge himself as I snapped away. I was able to get enough reference photos to make a collage to give the feel of him coming in for a landing on the feeder.

There are some more things I think I may want to do with the portrait maybe later (when I have more TIME...hahahaha), but I just really could not wait to show off the results of my first very own hummingbird reference photo shoot!

Anyone know what species of hummingbird Hawg is?

Oh God...there's that nasty 3 letter word again...R A T. Seems the rodents are somewhat under control again. The cats can't find any anymore and seem bored, traps sit still quietly poised to administer the ultimate punishment, but no one comes. The poison is disappearing ever so slowly now, and I'm no longer finding things knocked off shelves and objects carried across the floor in the feed room. Better yet, I haven't had to fill in any more rat holes.

No one can ever accuse me of taking my job home with me. After just a week off, I found myself fumbling around at our side entry door trying to remember the door code -- ended up having to come in the front door like a common customer. Later that day, I left someone a voice mail and could not remember my extension. I apparently got my internal clock out of whack too during my time off. I couldn't get to sleep last night till the wee hours of this morning, so worked all day in a bit of a comatose-like state. Hence, this shamefully brief update.

I'm going to bed...sweet dreams!

I DETEST all forms of weakness (that is, weakness born of laziness or lack of courage and/or fortitude). I hate being vulnerable and I hate being dependant upon anyone or anyTHING other than myself and my own dogged determination to not be overcome by circumstances. I tend to hold things inside far beyond the point of being healthy to do so, if not to convince others, then to convince myself that "I can handle it!" -- whatever 'it' may be. I HATE being dependant on medication for any reason, especially medicines that toy with my brain chemistry like anti-depressants and pills for anxiety. But alas, the inevitable has happened. I broke down emotionally this week and succomed to a doctor visit for some medical assistance. It's been over 20 years since I felt this desperate. 

"Can you tell me something of the circumstances that have brought you to this point?" the doctor asked.

Let's begin with the stress of radical life changes that took place in the spring and summer of 2003, and the subsequent and ONGOING stress and demands of literally carrying an entire majorly dysfunctional family, BY MYSELF, physically, financially, emotionally and spiritually. To be more specific: caring for an aging mother, raising a 9 year old boy (10 this month), helping my daughter recover from drug addiction and get her life back in order (she's living here too), while helping counsel her in her relationship with her boyfriend, providing transportation for everyone, maintaining livestock and a small farm, renovating a huge old house that this time last year would have been condemned by the Health Dept had we dared to submit to an inspection. All this while trying to hold down a full-time 40+ hr per week, somewhat stressful job with hours that SUCK. And if that's not enough, bored good-ole-boy locals can't find any better methods of thrill seeking that to destroy rural route mailboxes (we had 2 stolen in less than a week) -- all my pond fish died of some weird disease, presumably blood fin (it is apparant there is still SOMEthing living and swimming in there -- it's constantly bumping the underside of the water lilies and eating the goldfish food I continue to toss in -- can't see it for the algea).

Well, I could rant on quite a bit more, but that would defeat the entire purpose of this entry, which was to bask in the afterglow of an absolutely perfect day. And as I sit here at the day's end, in the midst of the hundreds of truly IMPORTANT tasks that  truly NEED to be completed but were not -- in the midst of the frustration with the overload of overwhelming responsibilities and personal demands placed upon me by well meaning but utterly thoughtless, inconsidereate and downright LAZY family members, I find it odd that I'm sitting here experiencing a most peculiar feeling of comfort. Needful things have not been done, nor am I sure where I will find the time to do them tomorrow or the next day -- and in this moment, it doesn't seem to matter so much. The house is a mess, I'm overweight and woefully out of shape and in need of a physical overhaul, there's no money in the bank, so many things need to be fixed, repaired or replaced, I'm still taken for granted and taken advantage of. Yet still, in the midst of all this 'stuff,' I am overwhelmed with a sense that, at least in this moment, all is well with the world -- or with mine anyway.

It was a gorgeous fall day. We ate spaghetti and some brownies that my mom made. We rode the horses and started them over some homemade jumps (fallen tress too heavy to move -- might as well get some USE out of them). My horse tried to buck me off one time and my grandson thought it was hilarious so we both laughed. We finished with a trail ride around the neighbor's park. After riding we walked around the barnyard picking up pretty shaped and colored fall leaves. We brought them in and placed them on wax paper and put books on them so we could press and save them. We walked the dogs and got our baths. As bedtime approaches, my daughter's at work flipping burgers for Wendy's unti close. Her manager will bring her home -- she'll come in and take the dogs for a walk before getting her some leftover spaghetti and surfing the Internet. Mom is in bed with her favorite book. Grandson is tucked snuggly in bed with his cat curled by his head. I sit before the almighty boob tube watching Sandra Bullock try to be a beauty queen (I LOVE Sandra Bullock). There is a sleeping cat by my right shoulder and another by my left shoulder -- a sleeping dog in the easy chair next to the couch and a sleeping dog at my feet -- a fat grey parrot lazily scratching her head with her eyes half closed. I can hear the horses contentedly muching thier hay while being seranaed by singing frogs and crickets. There is a cool fall breeze wafting through the windows and my flannel throw feels so cozy.

What a whiney, self-centered, long-winded and probably quite BORING entry! There are no doubt many spelling and gramatical errors that I'm too lazy to proof or correct. And yet, I don't feel guilty! Perhaps the point of this evening's moments of reflection as I face the beginning of a new week is that sometimes, it is OK to admit weakness and seek help from outside ourselves. Perhaps, there are times when a momentary pity party is OK. Perhaps it just comes down to the reality that no one and no set of circumstances is perfect, nor should we be too terribly dismayed when we realize that we and our lives TOO are infected with this universal imperfection. And that in the midst of our discomfort with all these many imperfections, we can still find comfort and solice in the small things, the small pleasures, so often overlooked and taken for granted.

At any rate, by now I've probably bored all visiting bloggers to tears, if they've lasted this far into this blog. So here's my writing tip for the day: swallow your pride, visit your doctor, get some Lexapro and Atavan, and you TOO can write like this. HAHA and a goofy grin. Time to kick back with a good book. With any luck, I'll be snoozing fast and hard before the local news comes on,

I’m still a bit undecided as to whether I’m completely comfortable taking a medication that monkeys with my brain chemistry (funny comment coming from an ex-hippie that once partook of every form of psychedelic drug available on an almost daily basis). I’ve been on Lexapro for about 3 weeks now -- supposedly I will not feel the full effects until after 4-6 weeks. I imagined that I felt a little more under control after the first couple of weeks, but am not so sure I feel much different at this point. The frequency and severity of my migraines seems to be increasing but again, am not sure if I can really blame the new medication, as my problems with migraines always worsens considerably in the spring and fall (often very parallel with the severity of my seasonal allergies). One VERY noticable difference is dreams -- I’m dreaming like crazy and remembering them rather vividly. It seems as though I start dreaming as soon as I pass into a sleep stage and dream non-stop til waking the next morning. And dreaming many DIFFERENT dreams about every conceivable subject. Upon consulting with others I know who are on similar medications, it seems this is a common side effect with these ‘seratonin re-uptake’ type of medications. One VERY much appreciated side effect is a decreased appetite -- YAAAY!!!!

Anyone else out there able and willing to share any experiences, advice, etc. regarding these types of drugs (Paxil, Zoloft, Lexapro, etc.)? I’ve read a lot of negative stuff about them on the Internet but most everyone I know personally who has ever used them, either for only a few months or on an ongoing basis, has praised them as a God-send.

to this blog. I will determine to write SOMEthing EVERY day (ha, like I’ve not tried that before...). I will determine to write whatever I’ve a notion to write at the moment, with absolutely no regard or concern of what someone else may think of it -- whether others will approve or disapprove, agree or disagree -- whether or not I think others will admire me or ignore me.

It seems a peculiar human trait, the way we all, to varying degrees, seem to have such a need for approval and validation from others. Even the most emotionally mature seem to fall prey to it, though never admitting it to be so. Hence, tonight, I attempt to squarely face one of the most common of human fears and defy it with my rambling random thoughts for this evening.

I come off a Halloween weekend feeling a bit woozy from a diet of horror movies. I don’t care for murder fests or most demonic encounters, but I do love my monsters and psychological thrillers. I’ve really never quite fathomed how ‘normal’ folk can actually enjoy and view as ‘entertainment,’ realistic depictions of murder and mayhem, though I know many seemingly normal folk who do (note I qualified that with the word ‘seemingly’). Why it doesn’t deeply disturb me to see an alien burst out of a dude’s stomache, or to see a monsterous-sized worm burst from the desert sands to consume the locals, I cannot explain. Whatever. During my channel surfing this weekend however, I’ve nevertheless been tempted for some unknown reason to remain on a few such horror movies (the kind I DON’T like) for a scene or two, which has left me feeling somewhat jumpy and somehow ‘soiled.’ Hence, I stop my channel hopping at one of my feel-good favorites, Chocolat. If I can gain weight from just THINKING about chocolate, perhaps the same thing that triggers the weight gain will also trigger a rush of endorphins to ease my discomfort. If the sight and thought of the chocolate doesn’t do the trick, I’m sure the sight and thought of Johnny Depp WILL.

And with that thought, I close tonight, with a big, lustful, endorphin-filled grin on my face -- I can feel it already...

I'm not sure this entry will count as my 'daily' entry for today or not -- depends upon how I feel at the end of this day. Oh God, I'm up entirely too late -- it is doubtful that I will feel at all like getting up in the morning. This is not promising to be a good week for sleep -- I don't know how any self-respecting American citizen can even remotely consider sleeping this coming Tuesday night. I'm almost as excited about this election as I usually am this close to CHRISTMAS!

Back to the primary reason I'm writing anything at all right now...this is to introduce my newest blog header. I'm woefully behind in what I'd originally intended to be a regular change of blog headers featuring my art and photography...this is only my third change. Oh well, I'm woefully behind in everything else too. I thought it well past time to change, especially since it seems our hummer friends have abandoned us for the winter. I pray for the safe journey of our last baby hummer, who appeared only a couple of weeks before they departed -- I cannot imagine something so tiny venturing so far!

ANYway...the new pic is of one of my two WONDERFUL mares, Odessa. She is posed against the backdrop of her pasture, which this time last year, was thick woods. Odessa is 14 years old (I think) and is a retired Arabian show horse. She's spunky as a young filly and regal as a queen, with an attitude to match.

Now, I simply MUST get to sleep. God, I HATE Daylight Savings Time!!!!! Forgive any grammatical and spelling errors, whoever ventures here -- it is too late for spellcheck.

Why is it that most everything that it the ‘right’ or ‘best’ thing to do, is always the thing that is the most demanding? I’ve recently determined to implement some lifestyle changes that would be beneficial for the healthy preservation of this earthly tent and human organism. I spent an hour and a half in the kitchen tonight washing, cutting, sorting and preparing fresh veggies, fruits and melons for healthy meals and snacks to take to work tomorrow. Dear Lord, it would be so much simpler, less expensive and less time consuming to buy junk food from the vending machines. And why the heck is it that the older and wiser we get, the harder we have to work at keeping our human equipment properly maintained, that we may enjoy the fruits of our accumulated wisdom?!

On a more positive and less whiney note...I have been contemplating the simple pleasures of the season this evening. I have a peculiarly passionate love for the fall season. As with most everything, I’ve tried many times to analyze that, but have come to no satisfactory conclusion as yet. For me, there is just nothing to compare to living in the country and close to the earth. I once dated an Italian from New Jersey who was extremely discomforted by how ‘dark and QUIET’ it is at night in the country here. It’s anything BUT quiet at night in the country, except during the coldest days of winter, but I guess frogs and crickets don’t have the same soothing effect as automobiles and horns and shouting and sirens, etc. -- thank God.

A country fall is crisp, cool breezes and brightly colored leaves falling from everywhere like snow -- it’s the rustle of dried leaves as pets and children run and play and bury themselves in deep piles of leaves -- it’s the smell of burning leaves and brush as neighbors and farmers clear fallen limbs from yards and pastures. Fall air feels cleaner somehow. Our mares are especially frisky and flirty as their hormones and estrus cycles begin to wind down for the coming winter months -- every deep fall shadow, every gust of falling leaves, and every rustle of leaves beneath the brush is a valid excuse for a silly spook or playful buck. Colorful gourds, pumpkins, ghosts and turkeys, scarecrows and wagons adorned with bales of straw and seasonal decorations abound and there is an excited anticipation of the coming feasts that accompany the holiday season. Summer’s continuous chorus of singing frogs is replaced by an equally large and varied assortment of chirping crickets -- I wonder where the frogs go when it’s cold? I KNOW where the crickets go -- they snuggle up in our basement, garage and crawl space. And oh how my cats love to ‘play’ with crickets and grandaddy longlegs spiders seeking refuge from the cold nights -- it’s impossible to walk anywhere in my end of the house without having to step over numerous cricket and spider carcasses.

I LOVE FALL in the country. But must turn in for some sleep tonight, as I’m sure I’ll be up rather late tomorrow watching the polls! I think I will take my folding lawn chair with me, and a good book, so the stand in line will be a little more comfortable -- the last time we had an election here I stood in line for an hour and a half -- it felt more like 4 hours. I’m going PREPARED tomorrow! My grandson is out of school for the elections tomorrow -- I’m so jealous. I KNEW I should’ve been a teacher...

I went by my precinct polls on the way to work this morning, undecided as to whether to try to vote before going in to work or after getting off. The line was about as long as it was 4 years ago (when I stood in line for almost 2 hrs) so I opted for another go at the end of the day. My assumption was that everyone would assume it would be much too long a wait at the end of the work day, so most would attempt to vote before then. My theory was mocked as preposterous by my co-workers who were certain I’d miscalculated and would be standing in a long line for even longer this evening. How proud I am to say I know my neighbors’ thinking well -- I didn’t get to the polls till 6:30 -- I already knew who and what I was voting for, the new electronic ballots were a breeze, and with no waiting line (there was only 1 woman at the registration table when I walked in) I was in and out in about 7 mins total.

I must say it’s been interesting to observe voting day behaviors and conversations -- what an arrogant lot we are, we humans -- with arrogance and pride that crosses all party lines. I COULD toss in MY 2 cents worth of political commentary (along with rebuttals of generalizations regarding southern voters), but frankly, I’m too tired of hearing everyone of differing views bicker about it all day. I’m just grateful to have the freedom to be ABLE to disagree, and to vote according to what I believe. I had my say at the polls. If I don’t like the outcome of the election, I’ve now earned the right to complain for the next 4 years. I made my contribution to democracy and rewarded myself with a shamefully large portion of butter pecan ice cream for supper. It’s time to curl up with my suspense novel and listen to the rain and the crickets. I just hope we don’t have to wait 2 weeks this go-round to find out who our president is -- I don’t want to have to wait 2 weeks before I start complaining. Because the simple fact is that I could surely do a much better job at running this country than either Kerry OR Bush, because I’m right and everyone who disagrees with me is wrong...RIGHT?!

and I’m in one pissy mood -- I guess everyone’s entitled to one on occasion.

I do not feel like the optimist today. I quit the medication for anxiety the day after the election this week (though that may have given me good reason to not only stay on it but increase the dosage). Once the stuff started saturating my brain tissue, migraines went from the occasional affliction to a DAILY one, and the severity of them was steadily increasing. I cut back to half doses for a few days and after forgetting it altogether on Wed, determined I may as well quit. The constant headache remained even on the half dose, but not nearly as debilitating. Since then, the headaches have been slowly but steadily fading -- today, I had NONE -- though during what I presume to be a ‘withdrawal’ phase, my mood is very discomforting and is more askew than before I BEGAN the medication.

Not desiring that I become in any way BORED, in the present absence of the headaches, my trusty carcass has mustered up some significant pain in the bottoms of my feet and in my left shoulder. If only the headache had remained, I’d at least be a bit more BALANCED jumbled mass of pain from head to toe.

The new header pic is a study (from a photo made in the fall of 2002) of a lone steer in a neighbor’s cattle pasture. It’s rather expressive of how I’ve felt lately -- all alone and in a bit of a fog. Ah well, this too shall pass. I had too many errands to run today and was unable to ride, though it was such a lovely fall day for doing so. Tomorrow, if I do nothing else, we will ride the mares -- horseback riding always makes me feel better.

Granny finally has something to say (http://granny.mindsay.com/). I think sometimes Granny may have too MUCH to say. But then one must be tolerant of the eccentricities of the aging among us.

For some unknown but very welcomed reason, my mood is decidedly brighter today. Perhaps the vestiges of that poisonous medication is finally working itself out of my brain tissue -- I’m beginning to feel like myself again. Though that condition of being may be somewhat less than perfect, after a month of suffering the unwanted side effects of the medication, it is most definitely BETTER. (Coming from an ex-hippie that used to LIVE on brain-altering drugs, isn’t that a hoot of a declaration?!)

I have a tendency to feel things entirely too deeply. Not sure if that is a blessing or a curse. The bottom line is that regardless of whether things go our way or not, one must never surrender to negativity -- to do so will only lend it power -- and God knows it has gained enough of that on its own lately. Though there is much wrong with the world this day, it seems there is more right than there is wrong, at least for the moment, and in my little corner of the universe. It is an absolutely GORGEOUS fall morning! Following a week of unseasonably balmy weather, it is finally beginning to FEEL like fall.

The mares seemed to go from sleek, shiny summer coats to woolly fuzz-balls overnight. Though decidedly ‘PRETTIER’ when sporting the typical, sleek summer coat, they are so ‘CUTE’ when they are fuzzy -- they look like big teddy bears. I used to own a big galoot of a gelding that grew such a thick winter coat, he looked like a woolly mammoth every winter.

Sadly, there’s not been much fall color this year and what little we’ve had was very short-lived. Just last weekend I noticed how pretty was the path between the barnyard and pasture, literally covered with bright yellow maple leaves. I determined that at the first opportunity this weekend, I would take some photos. Now, just a week later, they are dry and brown -- arghhhhhh!!!! I MISSED it!!!

Maybe there will be some SNOW this year to take pictures of -- oh how I love SNOW -- that is, if the power doesn’t go off. There’s a certain charm and excitement to being without power (particularly if you have gas heat and can stay WARM while enjoying it) -- cooking outside on the grill, huddling around the fireplace or stove, reading by the light of an oil lamp, watching DVDs on the laptop until you’ve drained the very last charged battery. But when the charm is dragged out TOO long, it really begins to lose its novelty. When we were out of power for a total of 2 weeks a couple of years ago, you couldn’t find lamp oil or wicks, batteries or ball caps within 20 miles of the place. I’ve stocked up early this year...just in case -- you know that peculiar ‘law’ of sorts -- if you’re actually PREPARED for an event, it won’t happen.

 Enough said -- I’m off to enjoy all that is good in my world today...

I’ve made an rather unintended discovery regarding blog traffic (probably something everyone else has ALREADY figured out). I don’t usually get an overabundance of visitors here -- not much interest in the mundane details of my everyday life. However, I noticed the sojourner had a LOT of traffic today. I was a bit baffled, wondering what had changed -- had I written something incredibly brilliant and/or witty? Had I been nominated number 1? Had I shown up in the crazy 40 block? Then it dawned on me -- I spent an uncommonly large amount of time last night and this morning just blog hopping to see what everyone else had to say about anything and everything, even dropped a comment here and there.

My discovery is this: If you want other bloggers to visit you blog...

1] Visit THEM.

That doesn’t necessarily mean they will actually talk with you (leave a comment/reply), but at least you know you’ve been noticed. If they don’t talk to you, it’s up to you to figure out whether or not they actually enjoyed their visit. Go ahead, humor yourself -- of COURSE they were impressed with your superior intellect and creative writing skills -- how could they NOT be?!

2] Post a comment regarding gay marriages.

I noticed that everyone who did -- regardless of their own views -- were literally SWAMPED with visitors and comments (and much interesting bantering between bloggers of differing views). Why we are all so intensely interested in the sex lives of strangers is beyond me. If we really knew all there was to know about the sex lives of just our co-workers, friends and families, it would likely scare us so shitless we’d be afraid to leave our homes. But anyway, just the mention of gay marriages seems to really stir up the hornet’s nest, so post something on the subject...ANYthing...the hornets will come (and may actually sting...er, TALK to you).

Here it is, in black and white...read it and weep with admiration and envy. I’m a ‘pundit’ blogger (what the hell is a PUNDIT?!). It’s good to know that SOMEone appreciates my overwhelming talent. If you can’t get any positive feedback from fellow bloggers, take this quiz. Whatever kind of blogger it says you are, it’s sure to make you feel good about yourself (these quizzes never tell yout that you are a boring jerk).

What Kind of Blogger Are You?

Indeed. Ever since posting my ‘Pundit Blogger’ quiz results (supposedly implying that I can actually express myself intelligently and with influence), I’ve not had as much as one day that I’ve been able to muster even the smallest string of words that sounded intelligent, witty, or significant in any way. Indeed, pride DOES goeth before a fall.

On another note, in part, due to the shortage of flu vaccine this year, and in part due to the fact that having availed myself of the flu vaccine in the past, it has NEVER saved me from having at least one case of the flu during any given flu season. In fact, last year (AFTER receiving the vaccine mind you), I was hit by not one but TWO rounds of flu within only a 5 week period. At one point during both rounds, I was absolutely CERTAIN I would die. In fact, the only times I ever remember coasting through a flu season totally flu-free were those years when, for one reason or another, I’d NOT had a flu vaccine.

Apparently, there are alternative treatments for flu and for preventing the flu, other than vaccines, that for some reason aren’t touted as loudly, though they certainly seem worth checking out. There are 4 anti-flu medications available today -- (Symmetrel [amantadine], Flumadine [rimantadine], Tamiflu [oseltamivir] and Relenza [zanamirvir]. All 4 medications are touted to lesson the severity of symptoms and shorten its course. Though aware of these medications, what I only recently learned was that 3 of those 4 medications -- Symmetrel, Flumandine and Tamiflu -- can actually be taken to PREVENT the flu. So if there is an outbreak of flu in your community, one of these medications can help you steer clear of participating in the unpleasantries of a bout with the dreaded illness.

Does anyone out there in Mindsay land have any experience with any of these medications? Do they really WORK? How does their use differ when taken for prevention vs. treatment? Do they have side effects? Anyone who should NOT take them? Which of the 4 is most effective at prevention? Which is most effective at treatment?

...fattening no doubt, but isn’t that part of what makes a recipe GREAT?!

This comes courtesy of my daughter. At this time of year, nuts abound (and in other places, like my workplace or home, nuts abound YEAR-ROUND). We have 2 pecan trees in our yard, and oddly enough, we have to actually BUY our pecans, as we have as many squirrels as nuts, and it seems the squirrels are quicker at gathering than we are.

Here’s the recipe:

Spread out an assortment of nuts in an aluminum pie pan (pecans are our favorites). Cover with LOTS of butter and bake in the oven until sizzling and only slightly browned. Remove from oven and while still hot and sizzling, stir nuts round in the butter, then sprinkle to taste with powdered sugar, brown sugar, honey, or an artificial sweetener like Splenda. It is DEEEEEELICIOUS!!!!!

Once the pan of scrumptious nuts is polished off, go for a walk/run in the brisk fall air. How far and for how long you should walk/run depends upon how many butter-soaked, sugar-coated nuts you’ve just consumed. I’m not sure you’ll burn enough calories to actually make proper amends for the nut-fest, but it’ll at least ease the conscience to some degree.

No one but artistandgirl replied to my questions on the flu medications -- she’d never used them either -- so I guess I’ll just have to close my eyes, pick one and try it out for myself.

On another medical note, I feel as though I’ve got a knife stuck in the side of my head right now...waiting for the Extra Strength Tylenol to kick in. Not a migraine this time...this ailment is a little more exotic -- a flaming (LITERALLY) case of TMJ. I’ve had ‘issues’ with my jaw in the past, but nothing to compare to this present darkness.

One of my horses accidentally decked me in the face with her head a few months ago and it’s been downhill ever since. It’s now to the point where I cannot bite at all and can chew only very carefully, and with great pain. On occasion, my jaw actually locks and when it finally ‘pops’ somewhat back in place, the pain is indescribable. When the condition finally became unbearable (I never seek medical attention until an ailment reaches this point) I went to my doctor, who is on leave, so I saw his fill-in who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about my jaw or anything else that ails me. She told me to go see my dentist. My dentist made me an appointment with a specialist. In the meantime, I plug on with this knife in the side of my head.

I recall some controversy a few years ago about whether or not TMJ was a real and valid ailment. -- just one more thing the stingy insurance companies don’t want to have to pay for. If you have any doubts about the validity of TMJ, just position your face very carefully in whopping distance of a horse head, spook the horse and allow the horse’s head to forcefully slam into the side of your own head. The knee jerk reaction of seeing stars will subside in just a moment. But over the following weeks, observe the utter deterioration of your jaw joint that took the brunt of the impact. Then, if you’re able to still speak at all, tell me "it isn’t REAL."

Am I still trying to figure out who I am or am I just seeking some form of affirmation? Who can say, I just know I simply can't resist them...when I see one on someone else's blog, I've just GOT to take it.

I took the following quiz 4 times. It gives you a choice of how many questions to answer, so the first time I picked 27 and it told me I was 'Easy Rider.' Wanting to be especially sure of just which movie I really was, I took it a second time with 45 questions...STILL 'Easy Rider.' So of course, I had to go back and take the quiz on what famous leader I was. Once I found THAT out, I went back to copy the html code for the movie and found I had lost it, so I had to take the quiz AGAIN...THIS time I was 'Apocalyse Now.' By this time, I'm utterly confused and really beginning to wonder who I am, so I take the movie test a FOURTH time...'Easy Rider' again.

So what does this mean?! I can only assume that I am 3/4 'Easy Rider' and 1/4 'Apocalypse Now.' Then again, who knows WHAT I'd come up with if I dared to take it a FIFTH time!? Of what if I take this quiz again tomorrow, or next week...who would I be THEN?!

Dear Lord, I just don't need this kind of stress in my life...I'm going to go get a bowl of Cherrios...

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Peekaboo Sugar

Since I used another header pic earlier this month, featuring my ‘pretty princess’ show horse, Odessa, it’s only fair to give equal time to our family girl, Sugar. Sugar’s a 12 year old Appaloosa mare. She was solid black when she was born, with the exception of a few tiny white spots on her rump that looked like someone had spilled a small bit of powdered sugar there...hence her name, Sugar. I bought her when she was 8 years old from a stable that leased horses out for trail rides. She was as sure-footed as a mountain goat on the trail, but once off the trail, she was pretty unschooled. She didn’t know how to move well in circles (especially at the canter), she couldn’t neck rein, she didn’t understand the concepts of ‘leg pressure,’ but she DID have an EXCEPTIONAL temperament -- I figured we’d have plenty of time to work on the other issues, which would be just a simple of matter of continued education.

Within only a few months, she was doing everything she couldn’t do when I bought her, as though she’d known it all her life. These days, she carries the kids around as though she were a paid baby-sitter -- they ride her, climb on her and roll all over her back as though she were a jungle gym. She’ll go anywhere at any speed you ask (and even STOP when you ask) and she and my grandson have even learned to take small jumps together. She is a true gem among gems. No one could ever hope to own a more lovable, enjoyable or dependable horse -- we hope she lives to be at least 50 years old! >grin<

This wonderful breed was meticulously developed by the Nez Perce Indians of the Inland Northwest, who bred their horses for strength and sturdiness, speed, temperament and sure-footedness. Along with the white man’s destruction and dispersion of our Native American tribes and their cultures, this wonderful breed of horse might have been lost as well, if not for a wheat farmer from Oregon, Claude Thompson, who took interest in the breed and established the Appaloosa Horse Club, to promote and restore the Appaloosa’s position in the equine world. Today, I doubt any ‘promotion’ of the breed is necessary -- just own one -- it’ll be the beginning of a life-long love affair.

On another note, beautiful fall colors have appeared all about us, seemingly out of nowhere, though oddly, unusually LATE in the season. Hence, we are off for a photo excursion -- later dudes!

My grandson and I embarked upon one of our ‘family traditions’ Saturday afternoon...our annual fall color photo hunt. Getting lost is at least 50% of the fun of the whole event, at least for me -- the getting lost aspect just totally unnerves my 10 year old grandson. Fortunately, it seems no matter how far off the beaten path I may tend to wander, my inner radar always leads back to a familiar road before it becomes necessary to make any phone calls for assistance (how did we ever live without mobile phones?!). We have several of these traditions actually -- the community tour/hunt for July 4th fireworks, the fall leaf hunt and the tour of Christmas lights on Christmas eve.

Out here in the rural South, you don’t have to go to a highfalutin’ professional fireworks show for entertainment following the traditional BBQ fest on July 4th. Country folk will spend HUNDREDS of dollars annually for their own varied assortment of fireworks -- and the presentations are usually quite spectacular, especially when they’re lighting up the sky in every direction around you, no matter where you stand to watch.

Living in a rural area also provides great backdrops for scenic landscapes dotted with fall color. I tend to look for shots with little or no sign of civilization -- just unpolluted nature. As it becomes increasingly difficult for simple folk to maintain an adequate living through agricultural endeavors, local farmers are selling more and more land to developers -- subdivision housing developments are taking over. But ‘pockets’ of folks maintaining mini-farms (like mine) are still clinging to the country life amidst the influx of ‘civilization,’ and thanks to the zoom lens and the creative freedom of the paintbrush, great scenes can still be rooted out and preserved.

Then there’s the Christmas lights -- Southern country folk LOVE to decorate for Christmas. I’ve never outgrown the thrill of a child at the sight of bright colored lights and fanciful shapes of Santa Claus and reindeer breaking up the commonness of the normally dark country nights. Admittedly, many such rural displays are really a bit overdone and some, downright corny/gaudy, yet the kids and I are drawn to them like moths to a porch light.

Our first 2004 fall color hunting expedition went well yesterday -- we got some GREAT reference shots for future paintings! As usual, there were many great shots/views that had to be passed by because there was no adequate place to park. It was cloudy, which is generally better lighting for fall color than bright sun, but there were some potentially good shots that just didn’t get good exposures with all settings on automatic. As the cloud cover increased and the day neared sunset (wherever the sun WAS), it got too dark too early and some of my last shots just didn’t cut it either. I’d love to go photo hunting again tomorrow, but have some financial crap to work on (I HATE numbers) that can’t wait and the weather is supposed to be rainy. Maybe there will be some color left on Thanksgiving -- that is if I’m able to MOVE after gorging myself on the annual Thanksgiving fare. All in all though, even if I don’t get out again before the color’s gone, I got some great shots...probably way more than I’ll find time to paint between now and autumn 2005.

Speaking of turkeys...during our expedition, we passed an open meadow COVERED with big, fat, wild turkeys. They were proudly strutting about all over the meadow, in full, clear view...less than a week before Thanksgiving! Duh....

I got ONE picture from this weekend’s leaf hunting excursion completed -- a quick study in chalk pencils and acrylics. I got so many great reference shots this weekend, it was hard to decide which one to start with! It’s my new header for today.

Thanks to bookworm, I’ve now been able to incorporate all my old header pics into the appropriate blog entries. Sooooo, because I had to work late and am tired, and am probably looking at more overtime before turkey day on Thursday (I HATE overtime), and because I have a helluva case of heartburn and it’s late and because aparadox’s latest quiz temptation told me I was cranberry sauce ("a little sweet, a little SOUR"?! Hmph!!!) and because I just plain don’t feel like putting much effort into tonight’s blog...AND because it is deserves to be repeated...

...here’s one of my favorite blog entries revisited -- now with a PICTURE (thanks again, bookworm!). It's my Sept 11 entry , "Ode to a trusted companion.'

It seems I heard it rumored somewhere, sometime that this day was a ‘holiday?’ I was up at dawn and didn’t even BEGIN to slow down till about an hour ago. And have to be back on the job in the am...happy happy, joy joy. But thankful I am -- thankful everything that HAD to get done, got done, the food was FANTASTIC, and though still far from ideal, family circumstances were an improvement over what they were this time last year. The house got a good cleaning too...something that likely wouldn’t have happened had it not been for the festivities demanding it.

Now, all the critters are fed and walked, Nanna’s already asleep, Kendall is engrossed in his Gameboy, the cats have come out of hiding (they don’t like company and excessive ‘activity’), and I can veg out in front of the TV like the overstuffed pig that I was today, and enjoy a cold beer or 2 in my clean house (God only knows when it will be this clean AGAIN...maybe Christmas day...before the kids get into the presents under the tree, that is).

The moon has been brilliantly full the past 2 nights -- it’s almost as bright as a cloudy day out there. What a wonderful night for a moonlight ride on the horses -- were I not so stuffed and exhausted. As it is, I suppose their Thanksgiving will close with their lazy, contented munching of hay.

I’ve browsed a few blogs and read about what Thanksgiving means (or doesn’t mean, or SHOULDN’T mean) to various ‘fellow travelers.’ I prefer not to dwell upon how our country was more or less stolen from its native dwellers -- as jamesn noted, this was not an atrocity in which I was involved, and I’m assuming my ancestors did not participate widely in the raping of the American Indian, since my own ancestry consists of some significantly noble Cherokee heritage.

Alas, for me, Thanksgiving is a blessed day off from work, an excuse to overindulge far too much in far too unhealthy but scrumptious cuisine, an excuse to work too hard in the preparation of, presentation of, and cleaning up afterwards of a feast starring a poor fat, ill-treated domestic turkey, an excuse to get the family together and make them all feel obligated by the ceremony of the celebration to be at least, outwardly civil to one another for a few hours, and an excuse to plop down at the end of the day with a couple of beers and watch some utterly mindless television for what is left of this so-called ‘holiday.’

Tomorrow will be a slow day at work, though we are all expected to be there anyway. Our supervisor has planned for us to have a feast catered in at lunch (to make us all feel somewhat better about the fact that we are THERE and everyone else is OFF), and I work with a great group of people, so no doubt, we will have our own ‘celebration’ of sorts while we wait for the slow trickle of ads to subside enough for our supervisor to feel justified in calling it a day and letting us leave early.

Christmas has now officially begun, and it will ‘be’ Christmas from now till December 25. I can already see Christmas light displays in some neighboring yards through the now bare trees. (I TOLD you these country folk love their Christmas lights, as admittedly, so do I.) I’m now partaking of my second, and likely, final beer for the evening. When it is gone, I will either go back to the fridge for a bedtime snack of sinful leftovers, or will have slipped into a post-Thanksgiving Day comatose state -- either one will suit me just fine. I hope all of you out there in Mindsay land and beyond have had as exhausting and as satisfying a celebration as we have had here today. That said, I hereby bid a good night to all, and to all, a good night.

Courtesy aparadox -- an endless source of quizzes...

You are Lichen, also known as Comet!

You're a bit of an oddball. You've got a beautiful
taupe-silver coat with a few black spots. You
are also the speediest of Santa's reindeer, and
you astronomical knowledge makes you a great
navigator.

Which of Santa's eight reindeer are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I love such lazy days and evenings as this. Today was the first day that has really felt like late fall here. Last Saturday it was over 70 degrees -- today the temp never got out of the mid 40s. It's been cloudy and dreary and drizzly since 11am and I've been shamefully lazy all day. The drizzle has become a steady rain this evening. There's a cat on one arm of the sofa, a dog and another cat asleep in the chair, a dog in the floor. The parrot is still working on her big fat turkey leg -- her favorite part of Thanksgiving dinner (she doesn't gnaw them, she completely DEVOURS them) while another cat sits at the foot of her cage trying to fish out fallen scraps of the bone from her floor.

Listening to the rain fall as I sit here cuddled up next to the fireplace, surrounded by contented critters, good books to read, things to paint, the web to surf, blogs to browse...what shall I do, what shall I do?! I feel I should perhaps feel guilty for doing nothing today, when there is so much that needs to be done. But maybe it is good for the soul to take time out now and then to just enjoy the moment...time to just sit and listen to the rain... 

27 days to lose at least 10 lbs, so I can regain the same 10 lbs. and lose it again, in EARNEST after the traditional Christmas Day and New Year’s Day fat & carb feasts.

It was Justajournaler’s idea -- to blog about our quest for healthier bodies and the means by which we incorporate to strive to such end. I’d thought about it before...about making a blog just about my quest for weight loss and better health. But I’ve determined I have too many Mindsay aliases as it is and I’m tired of having to close out all my browser windows and reopen them just to log out (still haven not found a convenient log OUT feature in the new v3). The sojourner’s blog is basically a chronicle of my everyday life and mental meanaderings of little real depth. Hence, it seems appropriate to include this quest for better health, since this will be an inherent part of my everyday life from henceforth.

If there’s not already one, I shall create a Mindsay category for diet and exercise. Maybe someone beside me and Justajournaler will join it. Being accountable to someone is always a help when trying to develop new and improved patterns of behavior. Is also good to have some support. Making my endeavor public will give me the accountability I need, and I feel I’ve been fortunate to gain enough good friends in the Mindsay community who may be willing to provide the support and encouragement. Eventually, I will post ‘before’ and ‘after’ pics, but will not post those till I have a presentable ‘after’ to boast about. Would hate to leave readers with the horrifying ‘before’ image in their minds whenever they visit me...that would be unkind of me...and far too humbling for my taste.

Anyone else wish to join us? SURELY following the holidays, there will be plenty more who will qualify to join our ranks?!

I HATE numbers and anything that even remotely smacks of accounting. I simply do not possess a mathematically inclined mind. Yet my position as matriarch of my small family unit (by matriarch, I mean the one who does EVERYthing that needs to be done in the home, for the home, outside the home and for everyone IN the home), one of my most detested responsibilities is to manage the family finances -- pay the household bills, pay my bills, balance checkbooks, juggle budgets, etc. -- and I HATE it with a purple passion. Considering the small amount of funds with which this family has to work with, one would wonder how on earth this weekly chore can take up anywhere from 3-6 hours (more often on the higher end than the lower). Perhaps it is due to my mental slowness in this area of intellectual exercise, maybe it is due to the level of expertise and creativity required to stretch these limited funds to meet all the demands upon our finances -- I’m not really sure. But I DO know that I’ve been straining my capacities for almost 4 hours this evening and I still have probably at least 3 more hours to go. The typical headache has set in (judging from my symptoms, I’m more inclined to think it is the loose jaw hinge causing the pain, but I’d rather blame the numbers) and I’m hungry for my last (I hope) indulgent meal. Phooey on this -- perhaps I can find some time to steal tomorrow at lunch....

I’ve not had time to cook my first meal for tomorrow, which means I will have to buy something, which means I will be more inclined to fudge a little on my commitment. I plan to follow a meal plan that combines Atkins, Somersizing and South Beach -- each diet of which I have followed at some point in the past with relative success -- until I fell of the wagons, that is. More details later for those interested. In the meantime, I have just 1.5 hours left to practice my gluttony without reservation...I’m off to the kitchen...I think there's still some turkey left. ;-D

...that’s about the most accurate way to describe my first day of my ‘committment’ to improve my health. I knew I was off to a bad start by not bringing my own lunch to work, but I really didn’t do too shamefully bad. Though not strictly adhereing to my plan, I DID eat more of the right foods than the bad -- UNTIL I went by the store on my way home and my mom asked me to get her something sweet -- a request which forced me into the bakery/sweets section of the grocery store, where I met today’s diet DOOM. (I’m really beginning to wonder if my mom deliberately attempts to sabatoage my diet plans.) I ate fudge with my mom when I got home...and too much of it...so much in fact that there is now no temptation at ALL at the thought of eating any more of it. So perhaps what was meant ‘as evil’ has backfired and will instead, work for my good instead.

As for the exercise aspect, I didn’t get home till around 9pm and by the time I got my most urgent chores done, I was wiped out. Ah well, tomorrow is another day. I admit that hereby making these confessions of failure a very public proclamation via this blog, is much more humbling than if this commitment had been made only to myself. This is a good thing.

No time for further browsing/surfing tonight. Must get a little sleep to get out early -- tomorrow morning is my appointment with the jaw specialist. Eeewwww I HATE going to doctors!!! If I were not in agonizing pain, I’m sure I would find a valid excuse to back out, but alas, pain is such a sweet motivation.

I really need to learn how to say things with fewer words. Earlier tonight, I began typing the story of my trip to the specialist in such detail that I’m quite sure absolutely no one else would’ve been even the least bit interested in it. Soooo, after airing out my frustrations in great detail for my OWN benefit, I have condensed the sordid details into this, hopefully more presentable public commentary.

In a nutshell, it cost me $125 to find out precisely what was wrong with my jaw (news flash: I already KNEW that), and to find out that without at least another $700 for the oral apparatus (not including the additional $500 for follow-up treatments to accelerate soft tissue healing), I’m basically screwed. No possibility for finding treatment elsewhere -- he’s got the market for TMJ treatment cornered in this small town.

As for the diet plan, that’s basically screwed also. Without being able to get treatment for this condition, I’m limited to eating very soft foods right now, most of which are the very types of foods I DON’T need to be eating to lose weight.

So it’s back to square one on all fronts. But this is cool, I just need to approach this problem -- as it seems I have to approach ALL my problems -- from a slightly different angle. Poverty, like most every other adversity, can encourage defeat or can inspire creativity to overcome -- I choose the latter...too stubborn to do otherwise. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, for attaining both healing and health. And I’m already developing Plan B...

(Maybe I really AM the ‘cranberry sauce,’ and maybe that’s a GOOD thing...*grins*)

I’m catching the Christmas spirit. I don’t know what it is about this season that gets to me, but it does -- Christmas is strangely ‘magical’ for me -- has been for as far back as I can remember.

My first really vivid recollection of Christmas was, ironically, the first Christmas without my dad. He was serving in the USAF and was stationed in Korea for 2 years. I was 4 and we were living in Orlando, Florida at the time and my favorite aunt and uncle brought my grandmother and spent the holidays with us. On that Christmas eve, I was missing my dad being there so much and was feeling desperately lonely for him. The rest of the family was visiting around the tree in the living room and playing Christmas music. I didn’t FEEL like feeling good with everyone else, so I went out on the front porch where my new, early Christmas present awaited me -- a new, big hobby horse mounted on springs -- and proceeded to ride out my frustrations on my new pony (even then, ‘horseback riding’ was my method of choice for relieving tension and ‘centering’ myself emotionally). As I rode my pony with a vengeance, tears flowed, and I remember praying and asking God to tell my dad how much I missed him and wanted him to be there with us. I wanted a miracle to happen -- I wanted my dad.

As me and my pony began to tire, I started noticing all the pretty Christmas lights all over the neighborhood, and how really pretty they were. The night sky was clear and warm, stars were twinkling and the moon was bright. And as I began to ride my pony to the Christmas tunes playing on the record player in the house (that was a new Christmas present to my mom from my aunt and uncle), I began to listen to the words and sing along.

As me and my pony rode on, I began to sense that somehow, though not in the way I would’ve preferred, my dad really WAS there with me, somehow. And strangely, I began to feel very warm and happy and secure. The evening began to take on a sort of ‘magical’ feel to it and I felt certain that miracles were real, even though the miracle I’d prayed for (my dad’s return for Christmas) had not been granted me.

I’m not sure how long I rode my new pony through the night, but I remember that when I came in, I felt my soul was surrounded by something great and warm and perfect. While I’d been out, my uncle had been fiddling with our reel tape player and preparing, unbeknownst to me, a tape my dad had sent to him -- dad had sent it to my uncle and told him not to tell any of us about it until Christmas eve, when he was to play it for us. It was my dad’s Christmas message for me and my mom.

The peculiar comfort and inexplicable peace that God had engulfed me with in answer to my prayer, coupled with the sound of my dad’s voice on the tape, seeing his face in the pictures he’d sent, hearing the stories he had to tell of this strange land across the ocean -- it all really did seem quite ‘magical’ to me that Christmas eve. I remember crying myself to sleep that night, though tears that had begun in despair had become tears of joy, for it was as though dad really WAS there with us. Perhaps it was not only the very real sense of the ‘presence’ of my beloved dad that had made this night magical, but also that which proved to be my first memorable, PERSONAL encounter with this concept called "God."

My next most memorable Christmas was the NEXT Christmas I spent without my dad -- the first Christmas following his death. But that story is for a later time. Tonight, I ride my magical hobby horse into the night...

Of the many yoga courses available, on tapes, DVDs, videos, etc. (many of which I own), my favorite for re-introducing my body to the benefits of yoga is Richard Hittleman’s 28-Day Exercise Plan. No matter what the state of my present physical decay, this 28-day plan is by far the easiest both to follow and the easiest on the body. It was first published in 1969. I purchased my first copy in 1976, and I’m still convinced it’s the best starting point and introduction to yoga (next to personal instruction, of course).

I was once more or less ‘addicted’ to exercise and a healthy lifestyle. Perhaps that is the reason that I’ve always had the appearance of being at least 10 years younger than my actual age. But it seems that with age, the willpower loses strength and resiliency from lack of use, as surely as does the physical house. Today, I am fast beginning to LOOK middle-aged, and am beginning to FEEL even older. I’m presently about 40 lbs too heavy for my small frame, and I can’t even climb a flight of stairs without becoming severely winded. Because of my small bones and my flat feet, my excess weight has caused an extrememly painful condition in my feet called Plantar Fasciitis, which undermines my ability to do the very thing I NEED to do (EXERCISE) to correct this series of spiraling mechanical failures.

My diet intake yesterday was a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast, an orange for lunch, and 1.5 grilled pork chops w/1/2 cup cabbage/mushroom/onion mixture lightly sauteed in olive oil. I ate 1.5 cups of Cherrios with a little over 1/3 cup 1% milk before going to bed. My fluid intake consisted of 4 cups of coffee in the am, 40 oz of herbal teas, and 2 low carb beers -- I know, I know, this area calls for considerate improvement -- I'm working on it...really, I AM! (Though this may seem rather boring, it is in keeping with my committment to accountability with respect to the sojourner’s journey toward a healthier state of being.)

I also worked out on the Gazelle glider for 10 mins last night, which seems pretty pathetic really. But in my current physical and emotional state, my intent is to progress very slowly, so as to avoid discouragement and subsequent failure. And though I attempted to get my heart rate up as much as possible during that short time, it seemed more a challenge just to stay on my feet for that length of time, as the pain from my foot condition was horrific.

I followed that feeble attempt at aerobic exercise with Day 1 of the 28-Day Plan of yoga exercises. It consists of only 3 exercises, but, as noted in the opening words of the ‘thoughts for the day,’ "Today’s exercises will provide a good indication as to how stiff, tight and tense you may have grown in many ‘key’ points of your body..." these 3 simple exercises are tremedously revealing. Judging by how difficult the exercises were for me, it’s a wonder I’m not in a wheelchair -- my level of movement was more comparable to rigamortice than mere stiffness.

It is interesting how once the process of decay/destruction begins, it literally feeds off itself until the destruction is complete. This domino effect of the overall breakdown of mechanisms makes it increasingly difficult to halt, much less reverse it, in midstream, but it IS POSSIBLE. The longer the breakdown is allowed to progress, the more difficult it becomes to turn the tide.

Being a ‘free spirit,’ I do, by nature, find the concept of discipline very unpleasant. And although discipline can be taken to an unhealthy extreme, it, like most things, still needs to be exercised from a BALANCED persective. Finding the ‘balance’ to ANYthing has never been my expertise. I am a person given to extremes -- I tend to see things in black and white, right and wrong, good and bad, all or nothing. But the daily experience of life DEMANDS balance between these extremes -- to remain UNbalanced leaves us out of sync within ourselves, our relationships and our environment. Hence, I press on to regain syncronization within my own personal universe. Yesterday was a good beginning.

Nomad recently posted a commentary on Mindsay profile icons, and asked visitors to share how they decided upon theirs. Since my response is, as usual, too wordy to be proper really, I’m posting it here, as what may be a slightly more interesting post than my update on my pursuit of health.

I see myself as one just passing through this mortal existence -- it is not my place of origin, nor will it be my resting place, hence the name, sojourner. In deciding upon an icon that would represent this sojourner, the little girl seemed to come closest to representing how I see myself. I can ‘dress up’ and put on the socially appropriate ‘face’ when expected (little girl’s white dress), but I’m always ‘barefoot in the grass’ in my heart, feeling that kinship with the earth beneath my feet and my environment as a whole. And it is not enough for me to just walk through life, I must EXPERIENCE it (hence the bare feet in the grass). I feel young at heart, if not in body, hence the little girl. And running? I’m always running -- running FROM it, running INTO it, running AT it, trying to run AWAY from it, or just running for the sheer joy of it -- whatever, it seems I’m ALWAYS on the run.

Thereyago. "Deeeeeep" isn’t it? ;-D

Nomad got something started with her question about Mindsay profile pictures. I used it for an excuse to blog and gave my explanation in my blog -- to which sharonevolving gave a tremendous reply, "I actually picked mine based on an energy I would like to bring more of into my life."

Following sharonevolving’s line of thought, to choose a picture that depicted how I currently see myself is simply reinforcing that image, with all it’s multi-faceted inuendos, into my subconscious. Though the ‘me’ I see may not necessarily be all bad, there are certainly many areas of who I am and how I live my life that could stand some improving. As I said in yesterday’s blog, I saw the running girl as pretty much summarizing how I approach life -- always on the run -- running FROM it, running INTO it, running AT it, trying to run AWAY from it -- no matter the direction, I’m always RUNNING, full throttle.

I’m tired. I’m tired of running. Therefore I’ve chosen another profile picture, one that speaks more of where I WANT to be, rather than reinforcing where I am. I see the picture of the bird flying out of the cage as a release from bondage. No matter how nice a bird cage, nor how comfortable a home it may provide the bird, it is still a cage whose purpose is to confine, control, and limit the movement of the inhabitant. Birds are given wings with which to fly, but when confined to a cage, he cannot exercise this gift of flight.

In many religions, birds are sometimes seen as symbolical of thoughts and reasonings. One way in which I would like to change is to see my own cage doors opened, that I may fly. Put another way, I don’t want my thoughts to remain confined to the prison of the weaknesses in my belief system. If the bird is the thought, the cage is the BELIEF that determines the thought’s boundaries. I want my thoughts and ideas to be released from beliefs that limit them from ‘evolving’ as Sharon so aptly puts it -- free from the deceitful belief that I ‘CAN’T’ -- whatever the endeavor may be.

"As a man thinks, so is he."

If I think myself to be locked in the prison of circumstance, so shall I live my life as a prisoner. If I think myself to be a victim, I will BE a victim. If I think myself to be defeated, I will BE defeated. Likewise, if I think myself to be freed from my confinements, I will be free. If I think myself to be an overcomer, I will overcome, etc.

So, with my new free bird picture, I invite the ‘energy’ of freedom to overtake me -- not necessarily the release from uncomfortable and stifling circumstances, but freedom to ‘see’ those circumstances from different perspectives -- freedom to respond to those circumstances from a higher vantage point -- freedom to believe that all things are possible.

I would like to say something meaningful, even entertaining, but my brain is befuddled with an overabundance of snot. The dratted cold I’ve been successful in eluding thus far, has finally caught up with me, and is pretty much mopping the floor with me. My throat hurts, my ears hurt and ring, my chest feels like it has a hole in it and I have a horrible dry, hacking cough. I’ve gone through an entire jumbo sized box of Puffs in just one day. Rudolph, move over!

I found the discussion about my profile picture rather interesting. Funny how different folk can look at the same thing and each sees something different. Even funnier, how the SAME PERSON can look at a thing and see something different from one viewing to another. If I were to use an icon that represented me, it would be changing on an almost a daily basis, maybe even several times a day. I don’t know why I nurture such a tendancy to over-analyze everything. Not only did the responses provoke me to analyze pictures and their possible symbolical meanings, I even found myself analyzing the responses! It’s my odd obsession with the why about everything -- why, how, when, where. I should’ve been an investigative reporter.

Thought it was time to change my blog theme to jump on the holiday bandwagon. Didn’t feel much like the holiday season here today -- the temp was almost 70. A couple of days ago it was freezing. And rain -- rained yesterday, rained the day before, DIDN’T rain today but will again tomorrow. I fear my horses may begin to grow webbed feet -- don’t know how the farrier’s going to cope with that.

I’ve mostly just been browsing friends’ blogs tonight -- seems most of them have something far more significant to say than I tonight. Maybe that’s what I should go back to. Or better yet, maybe I should just stick in a DVD and be a mindless boob in front of the boob tube until my nighttime dose of cold medicine kicks in. With a head full of snot, that’s probably the best decision.

...the absolute NASTIEST cold from the pits of HELL that is. As for me, its gracious host...well, the jury’s still out on that one. I can’t remember the last time a ‘mere’ cold has made me this sick for this long. After this cold claimed its territory last Tues, and following almost a week in bed, I’ve clung to the sofa and fireplace all weekend and STILL feel like death warmed over. With a cold virus like this floating about, who needs the FLU?!

Now, that I’ve either drawn you in or driven you away with that delightful introduction...

It’s been a rather uneventful week, since I’ve been sick on the sofa for the biggest portion of it. It’s rained every day this week with the exception of 2 days. Thurs night we actually had thunderstorms accompanying torrential rains, which brought the creek over its banks once again. It didn’t get high enough to give cause to evacuate this time, but was high enough that I felt inclined to stand nervously at the window and watch it, in all my cold-infested misery. My spotlight was not working, but the frequent bright flashes of lightening were sufficient to give me a good view of the potential peril. When the downpours finally subsided and the radar on the weather channel indicated a break in the rains that might last a couple of hours, I was able to get a few hours of sleep without worrying that I would awake to 2 horses floating in the barnyard. My pasture and barnyard look more like a swamp now -- perhaps I should trade my horses for some alligators.

Today I introduce yet ANOTHER new sojourner avatar that perhaps speaks even more of where I’d like to be than the others -- a little girl relaxing at the foot of a tree blowing dandelion seeds off their stem. She looks as though she hasn’t a care in the world. I don’t want to spend the coming year still running about in a mad dash to be somewhere or get something done. Nor do I necessarily want to fly away (at least not ALL the time) or look at things from a different vantage point. I just want to be able to SLOW DOWN and enjoy the perspective that is already before me -- the perspective that I rarely notice because I’m too busy running circles around it trying to maintain some sense of equilibrium.

I’m off to browse my DVD collection. More hot tea w/lemon and honey, more chicken soup and orange juice...more worlds of fantasy far, far away, where colds and other assorted virus don’t exist...only mysterious sword wielding adversaries, evil sorcerers, freaky monsters from outer space, and other such manageable perils. (Well, they’re manageable from the vantage point of my sofa anyway.)

Tonight was the annual school Christmas program. Our kind neighbor was able to get Kendall to the school in time for the final rehearsal. I was running late because of work but was able to see most of the program. I was there for several mins before he spotted me -- I could see a very definitive change in his demeanor once he realized he had a family member in the audience. The role that circumstances have demanded that I assume in the rearing of my grandson are often daunting and I have many weary moments, but to see his face light up so completely as he did tonight, just because I’m "there," does seem to make the sacrifices worthwhile.

I stood there leaned against the wall and got quite lost in the moment actually -- intently watching all those young 4th grade faces as they performed their carefully rehearsed program. I watched my grandson, every move, every unconscious gesture, every expression. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Where and how does he fit himself into his view of the world around him? He’s known fear and hunger and abandonment, rejection and uncertainty in his early years, that no child should ever have to know.

Slowly, my gaze began to wander to the other children’s faces -- some bubbly, some shy and self-conscious, some self-conscious but determined not to let it show (though it did), some bored, some cocky -- most just looked very hungry for affirmation and approval. What REALLY lay beneath these carefully constructed facades? What secrets did their nervous giggles hide? What shame? What promise did their futures hold, what fate? What are THEIR families like? What kinds of issues do these other young innocents grapple with?

What will the world be like when they are 51 and watching their own grandchildren’s Christmas programs? Which handsome young man will grow up and murder his wife and unborn child? Who will be the judge or jury who brings him to justice? Who will be the writer, the director, the next Johnny Depp? Who will be the soldier, the policeman, the gangster, the addict, the dealer, the doctor? Who will lose their life in a tragic auto accident, or to a merciless disease, or to a thief in the night? Who will live to give hope to the hopeless, like Mother Theresa or Chris Reeve? Who will grow up to govern a nation? Who will grow up to destroy one? Most will grow up to be very ordinary people who live very ordinary lives...whatever ORDINARY is.

Dear Lord, the far away places a mind can wander during a short 30-minute school Christmas program. I was listening to their little songs...I really was, and I smiled and clapped as they finished each part. But my mind was so far away, in another sense, probing deep within their varied expressions, gazing into all those young eyes, trying to so hard to catch perhaps just a glimpse of the persons inside all those little ‘child-houses’ -- just a glimpse of the adult in the making...the adult they would someday be. How could anyone ever do harm to such innocent creatures as these -- either deliberate, intentional harm or harm through neglect? Such monstrosities are just beyond my ability to fathom.

My friends are right...I really DO think too much.

The killer cold from hell seems to have finally decided it had sucked all the life out of me it that it was going to get and thus moved on to greener pastures. It is BITTERLY cold outside tonight -- mid to high 20s -- for a typical Southern hayseed such as myself, that’s COOOOOLD!!! I’ve had the fireplace going full-blast since settling in for the evening and STILL cannot get warm. I think it’s time to go pop my Tylenol Flu Nighttime dose (hey, ‘voidindarkness’...this stuff ROCKS!!!), chase it with some hot chocolate and wrap myself up like a worm in a cocoon. I’ll try not to think too much for the rest of the evening. (*grins* as she tries not to analyzes the core meaning of that statement...)

A few weeks ago, I dabbled around with one of these Internet quizzes and learned that I was Thor, god of thunder and lightening. Some who have witnessed me in a loss of temper would probably heartily attest to the accuracy of that result, though I’ve admittedly mellowed out considerably in my old age (which is fortunate for the rest of the family, considering that everyone else’s behavior would often solicit such violent outbursts had I not learned this present respectable level of self-control).

But there is yet another evidence that I may indeed possess some god-like powers, heretofore untapped. In addition to the fact that my grandson swears I possess a god-like omnipresence (in that it seems I somehow know when he is doing something he isn’t supposed to, no matter the physical distance between us) I also seem to carry a pretty powerful electric charge.

I have seen cartoons and movies in which super-heros (and sometimes, villains) can shoot fire from their fingertips. Well, let me tell you, those dudes have NOTHING on ME. In spite of wearing rubber-soled shoes, I am still unable to walk through our building at work without being painfully zapped by every metal object I get near -- mind you, it is not necessary that I TOUCH it -- I have seen ‘fire’ literally jump 2" between metal objects to my fingertips (witnesses will attest to the truth of this claim). And no, I do NOT shuffle my feet. I even manage to muster a painful jolt through the plastic that covers the metal armrest on my chair. I have this problem to some extent, year-round, but it gets notably worse in the winter months. My co-workers, even those with whom I share a cubicle, do not seem to have this problem, so it clearly cannot be attributed to some electrical issues within our work environment. There is simply no other explanation other than "I have the POWA!"

Now, for all you other ‘Thors’ out there in Mindsay land:

I have learned a new technique for defending myself from these painful encounters. When I leave my chair at work, I simply pick up my pica pole (a long, slender, metal ruler of sorts) and use the tip of it to discharge whatever excess electrical charge I may be harboring at the moment. I suppose that due to the length of the pole, I do not feel those inevitable zaps, though the blue and white sparks and subsequent popping sounds emanating from the tip of the pica pole make it evident that ‘connections’ are indeed being made.

My next challenge is to figure out a way to harness and redirect this inherent ‘power’ of mine, into some USEful venue. Just think of the money I could save on the power bill! How delighted I would be if I could tell this local area band of THIEVES (they go by the name ‘Duke Power’) to suck my toe jam...and CHOKE on it.

Oops...that remark smacked of my former ‘un-mellowness.’ Sorry about that... *as she entertains an evil grin*

I'd hoped to be surfing with a new high-speed cable modem tonight, but alas, it was not to be. The cable guy (wasn't Jim Carey...DARN) couldn't get it to work. I got lots of new channels -- more channels than would be right for any human to have time to watch -- they were part of a great package deal -- God bless the competitive marketplace.

The cable dude thought it might be the modem -- he plans to come back tomorrow with another and give it another whirl. Maybe he just doesn't know what he's doing -- but he was a super nice guy, very conscientious, and he seemed intelligent enough -- I'm confident he'll figure it out in due time. With Christmas deadlines at the newspaper this week, I expect to be spending more time at the office than I would really like anyway, so would not have time to play with my new technical toy anyway. Figuring out this new cable box and programming the new remote to all my gadgets should be challenge enough to keep my brain busy. I have just enough technical expertise to make me dangerous -- so this should be fun.

I'm going on strike for Christmas dinner. I'm not cleaning house or entertaining anybody. I'm buying a Heavenly Ham, a pre-made green bean casserole, and some potato salad. All I have to do is pop it in the oven and/or microwave, and gummy up some yams with brown sugar and butter and the labor-free feast is on! I plan to do what every good, hard-working person should aspire to do for Christmas day -- eat, nap and watch movies. Ooooo oooo oooo...and peanut butter pie!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh...and maybe surf the net with my new high-speed modem -- I just LOVE new techie toys! For a country girl, I sure can be geeky at times.

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

by Clement Clarke Mooreadapted and slightly edited by Sojourner


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Everyone was exhausted, yes, even the mouse;



The stockings were strewn across the floor with little to no care,

With no concern that St. Nicholas soon would be there;


The critters were nestled all snug on the floor,

Beside Kendall, watching rentals from Hollywood 4;

 Nanna in her room, already fallen into a nap,

And me in my den, enjoying a night cap;

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore back the curtains and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the muddy barnyard

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,


But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.


And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.


But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

...but it is my present mood and suits my fancy at the moment. Anyway, I’m a bit inclined to swim against the current of what is common and expected, so here is spring in the midst of winter. Not that I don’t appreciate winter for its own unique qualities, I’m just not currently in a ‘winter’ sort of mood.

There was not much money for any outrageous holiday expenditures this year, but it seems any concerns I had about it were foolish, as Kendall has thoroughly enjoyed the day and the few gifts that he got. We did not get to see Kiki for long but she will be spending next weekend with us before they go back to school. My daughter (their mom) has been down with that killer cold that’s been making rounds in our area and was too sick to get out so we took her presents to her, along with some food.

One of Kendall’s gifts was a Billy Banks Tae Bo punching bag with 2 workout videos. I thought it would be a ‘constructive’ gift -- one that he could not only have fun with but one that would also bring the added benefit of a FUN fitness routine -- and I also thought it might be something we could enjoy doing together. OMG...it is soooo much FUN!!!!!! I think I may well have stumbled upon an exercise regimen that I can actually LOOK FORWARD to. The nature of the workouts make the routines a PERFECT outlet for pent up stress and tension -- and again, it’s just plain incredibly FUN!!!!

TOMORROW shall be MY holiday -- I don’t have to go anywhere or do anything for anybody -- WHEEEE!!!!

Am I the only one old enough to remember slam books, or is there another ancient being out there?

(A) First, recommend to me:
1. a movie:
2. a book:
3. a musical artist, song, or album:
(B) I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more, no less. Ask me anything you want. I'll answer what I can.
(C) Then I want you to go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends to ask you anything

Can't says that takes me by surprise...

But Lower Class? Is that referring to my income level or social status? I guess it's time to make peace with the reality that I'm a common hayseed -- I've got duck tape holding my truck together for God's sake (not DUCT tape, Sandi Middle Class ;-D -- that's like WAY too 'proper')

You scored as alternative. You're partially respected for being an individual in a conformist world yet others take you as a radical. You have no place in society because you choose not to belong there - you're the luckiest of them all, even if your parents are completely ashamed of you. Just don't take drugs ok? alternative 71% Lower Class 67% Upper middle Class 58% Middle Class 50% Luxurious Upper Class 13% What Social Status are you? created with QuizFarm.com

I sit here tonight on my laptop, surfing my little ‘alternative’ heart out on my now totally wireless network and cable modem!

I’ve wanted make the leap to a wireless home network for some time but was just pitifully intimidated by all the technical jargon that I read when attempting to learn about it. My co-workers assured me that setting up was a snap so I finally worked up enough nerve to at least purchase a wireless broadband router and a wireless notebook adapter card. I opened the router first and in attempting to be responsible, I actually read the installation instructions first. Then came more intimidation..."I’ll NEVER be able to do this by myself" I thought, as I began to go down my list of possible assistance prospects. Still not wanting to succumb to the assumption than I was more stupid than the average computer user (most of whom are probably ALREADY wireless), I sat and contemplated my dilemma for a moment, then determined to ‘just DO it.’ I began taking things out of boxes and wrappers, plugged cords and wires into assorted holes and stuck the card in the slot that looked like it might fit in, then ran installation CDs and hit a lot of dialog buttons reading "I Accept," "Next," and "Finish" and lo and behold, I am now up and running my very own ‘groovy’ wireless home network!

How in God’s name did mankind ever function without all these exciting technological geeky toys???!!!! I feel like an official member of modern Western society now. Eeeewwwww...that doesn’t sound very ‘Alternative’ or socially revolutionary does it? I suppose we all have our weak moments...I am ASHAMED.

(....but I'm having so much fuuunnnn!!!!!)

I really need to get off my duff and get this house clean...or at least clean enough. I cannot bring myself to welcome the new year with a totally filthy house -- partially maybe, but not totally. Housecleaning...I challenge anyone to top that for New Year's Eve excitement.

The weather was GORGEOUS today -- very spring-like. We rode the mares for the first time in a few weeks. The ground was still wet, as it has been for weeks now, but at least not soupy -- at least not in most places. Sugar was spunky but relatively well-behaved. Odessa on the other hand, was hot as a firecracker and as crotchety as a old bear just awakened from its winter hibernation. Both mares had evidently spent a good portion of their time lately wallowing in the overabundance of mud and it took FOREVER to just get the topmost layer of mud off enough to make them clean enough to saddle up. I can remember a time in Odessa's life when she considered herself far too classy to roll in mud -- seems we have turned the formerly classy miss into a common hayseed like the rest of us.

All my boring, pointless rambling aside...whether you plan on greeting the New Year in a drunken stupor or quietly enjoying friends and family, whether sleeping through it peacefully or frantically cleaning house, whether annoying neighbors with fireworks, or eating sushi and watching DVDs -- here's wishing the best to all my faithful friends and infrequent visitors here at Mindsay, and hoping the transition from 2004 to 2005 finds you where you most love to be, and with those whom you most love to be with. Happy New Year, one and all! 

Looks like SOMEone in this family partied too hard last night...

I TOLD those mares not to drink that entire bucket full of champagne last night. No one ever listens to me around here...

Upon browsing some of my Mindsay friends’ blogs, I considered what a unique opportunity such a place as this affords us. Though I’ve never met them (at least to my knowledge), I’ve developed a real sense of camaraderie with many individuals, the likes of whom I would’ve most likely never met otherwise.

My days consist of a full time job that takes up anywhere from 8 to 12 hrs per day, 5 days per week (including commuting time). Then I come home to take care of an aging mother and a small farm, interspersed with pitiful attempts at single-handedly parenting an increasingly difficult 10-yr old grandson of whom I presently have custody. Aside from daily maintenance of this household, to which no one contributes much effort except me (mom not able, grandson not willing), there remains the daunting task of restoring this ancient house to at least some semblance of its former glory. Needless to say, there is little time for enjoying the incredible array of friends I already have, much less opportunity to meet any more. Even if said opportunity existed, we humans seem disinclined to associate with those who, at first appearance, seem very different from ourselves. Hence our perspectives on ourselves, our fellow man, and life in general can become quite small.

In a place such as this Mindsay community, meetings with others are unencumbered by the shallowness of appearances, class, social status, etc., hence we make connections based more on the deeper things like intellect and emotion. As we interact with these new acquaintances, we find that in addition to whatever common ground may have initially brought us together, there are also very great differences between us -- but because of the bond that our common ground has established, we are more likely to LISTEN to one another. And so our souls become a little larger and enriched by such new, and unlikely associations.

And that is so cool...just SO cool. Thank you to all you ‘different’ folk who have deemed me and my little corner of the world worthy of your attention. I look forward to another year of enjoying many different and enriching perspectives and fascinating stories. Perhaps I too, will become a little more interesting through such associations.

On another note, for those who have wondered whether the horse in yesterday’s post is as dead as she appeared...take heart. She did eventually sober up and was willing to provide a good time for the grandkids before the day was over.

I should be in bed asleep. I can’t type, I can’t talk, I can’t think...yet here I sit gazing blankly into this laptop screen with that glazed addict expression. I’ve had at least a dozen interesting thoughts and comments flitter through the recesses of this brain tonight, but do not presently possess enough coherence to remember any of it long enough to get it typed.

Hence, in the absence of my ability to formulate any sort of intellectual contribution tonight, here is my aesthetic offering...photos of my rabbit, Thumper (as inspired by Foreverknight and her new bunny). Thumper lives in a rather posh cage in the back yard under my grandson’s bedroom window. He has a few hours of exercise time in the backyard everyday, during which he explores, gnaws, kicks, races, rolls, etc. to his little fuzzy heart’s content. He is so well trained, that when it is time for him to go back in his cage, all I have to do is tell him it’s "time to go home" and he jumps back in and turns to await his treat.

Ok...we're outta here.

We must be in another peculiar moon phase -- I can’t sleep for anything. I laid here for over an hour, wide awake, before deciding it would be better to just get up and find something to do with myself rather than lay here in the dark thinking about the spider with whom I fear to be one of my most intimate companions (more on that story later).

Kendall’s first Upward Basketball game is tomorrow morning (er, I mean THIS morning) and we have to be on court at 8am -- of all the blasted nights for my inner synchronization to be askew. I’m still nursing a dry, hacking cough that came as a bonus with the killer cold that I wrangled with before Christmas. I popped a couple of Benedryl Cold tablets around 3am...maybe those will help get me to sleep...probably just about the time I’ll need to be getting up.

I installed Firefox web browser from Mozilla at Jim’s suggestion. I think I’m really going to like this! It has lots of features that IE doesn’t have, plus reportedly, much less vulnerabilities to exploitation.

I finally got around to cancelling my land line and dialup ISP today. It’s funny how one can get ‘attached’ to such meaningless things as a phone number and ISP. I’ve had that phone number for 6 years now -- though I’ve moved 3 times during that 6 years, I’ve stayed in the same neighborhood so the number never changed. I HATE our phone service here and had always looked forward to the day I could call them and tell them "I don’t NEED your crappy land line anymore." But oddly, I felt a bit of nostalgia in knowing I was giving up my phone number forever. I’d only been with Earthlink for about 4 years, but I enjoyed my service there, as much as one CAN enjoy the sluggishness of dialup. Ah well, the deeds are done...I’m now cabled up and totally digital and wireless in communications. If the satellites go down, I’m screwed...but then, won’t we ALL be.

I think I’ll try dabbling around with one of the puzzles Nomad turned me on to. If that doesn’t wind me down, maybe a book will. If all else fails, I’m sure that I’ll be sleepy by time to get up and going this morning.

Sleepless in SC, signing out.

For those curious for an update from the sticks here, the weather has been from HEAVEN for weeks now (sitting here with the window open -- even the frogs have come out!) -- I wish I’d scheduled some vacation time! The weather party promises to end after the rain brings in a cold front for the weekend though -- winter returns...along with high gas bills. Could’ve stayed beautiful at least for one more weekend...

I may be scarce for a season...family issues to work on (growing children with a ‘past’ to clean up -- a never-ending challenge) and a new website to build. When my old dial-up ISP shuts off towards the end of the month, so will my old website which they hosted and which was built with their templates. Circumstances finally forcing me to get off my duff and learn my Dreamweaver and HTML. Will be doing a series of drawings/paintings for a local event coming up in the spring and will need to get moving on marketing my artwork -- since the exposure at the event will generate more attention, I need to give the impression I’ve got my ducks in a row! On second thought, if I want to make any money, I need to actually GET my ducks in a row!

If I can't take time to formulate something significant or entertaining (or at least BORING) to blog about, I can at least post goofy quiz results! Yah! My favorite color is a warm, earthy country blue!!! (Second fav is earthy greens, Silvara7!)

BLUE You give your love and friendship unconditionaly. You enjoy long, thoughtful conversations rich in philosophy and spirituality. You are very loyal and intuitive. Find out your color at Quiz Me!

 No time to think...much less BLOG -- but ALWAYS time for a QUIZ!

Take the quiz: "Which famous actress are you?"

Angelina Jolie
Pucker up- I'm Angelina Jolie!

Com'on Monicoo!!!! ;-D

Every couple of weeks or so, after getting off work on a Friday night, I splurge and rent some movies and go shopping for groceries and supplies, so that those chores are out of the way for the weekend. This happened to be one of those Friday nights. But my Friday night shopping experience was anything but usual tonight. It started at the video store, where the crowd at the video store was outrageous...it’s a wonder there were any movies left to rent.

Snow, sleet and/or ice are not very common in South Carolina winters, and when we do get some, it’s usually not very much and it doesn’t stay very long. Nonetheless, folks in this neck of the woods go haywire at the slightest mention of winter precipitation. You can forget any hopes of finding a loaf of bread or a bottle of milk ANYwhere within 12 hours of when the precipitation is predicted to begin. I’ve never figured out why it’s mostly milk and bread that fly off the shelves at the speed of light...there must be some kind of peculiar southern logic to it somewhere (I’m not originally from the south -- which may explain why this mystery continues to elude me).

Due to the fact that cold, wet weather has been predicted for tomorrow (er, rather, TODAY), I stopped by the house after carousing the video store to blanket the horses, cover the hay and put up the last 2 bags of feed that were delivered Thurs. I filled the rabbit’s cage with extra hay so he could snuggle up & stay warm...then was off to Walmart. (Sorry for all those whose social conscience would berate me for this offense, but when you NEED things and your schedule has not allowed you to go shopping until 9pm on a Friday night -- the local 24-hour Walmart is all the choice that’s left, as in small southern towns, the streets roll up at 9-10pm...even on Fridays.)

Anyway, as if I weren’t tired enough as I confronted the task before me, the pooh-heads at Walmart evidently decided to rearrange the entire store, on this, of all nights. Thus, what was intended to be a ‘get-in, get-what-we-need and get-out fly through Walmart turned out to be an exhausting 3.5 hr. nightmare of fighting our way through elbow-to-elbow frantic neighbors with buggies full of batteries, camping supplies, etc. (the bread and milk was long gone by then)...and NONE of us could FIND anything we’d come there for, since everything was either already moved or in the process of being moved. A good looking construction foreman started chatting and flirting with me as he assisted me in moving some construction material that was blocking me from grabbing my much needed gel insoles. (I am not accosted by good looking strangers everyday...I may have to go back to Walmart and find that dude when I feel a little more up to flirting.)

This winter weather warning scheduled to cover the area tomorrow is only predicted to last throughout the day tomorrow, and at most, through tomorrow night. The temp is predicted to be in the mid to upper 40s by Sunday afternoon. In spite of what is predicted to be a short-lived event, an unenlightened Walmart shopper tonight might have supposed that the general population in this area was preparing for Armaggeddon. At any rate, at least I know that me and MY household are fully prepared now. Full tanks of gas, batteries, bread, milk, hay, pet food and DVDs...hell, I even vacumned the floor in preparation for the big event.

Even though this USAF brat transplant may not fully understand the logic behind this mass hysteria, it’s hard not to get caught up in the excitement when you live in the midst of it. Hence, I’m wide awake at 2:30 am watching movies. ‘What could be finer than to be in Carolinar when it’s snowing?’

Hmph...don't I WISH....

Magic

?? Which Angel Or Demon Are You ??
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No country lightheartedness this week. This has been one incredibly horrible week for this family. Much ado that I just don't feel like going into for the sheer emotional exhaustion of it all. As if that had not been enough stimulation for one week, it all culminated (let's HOPE) last night when my daughter's house burned to the ground in about 15 mins. The 2 couples renting the house had gone to the store for some groceries for supper. They left the oven on, thinking it would be ok since they only planned to be gone 10-15 mins -- guess 10-15 mins is all it takes to lose everything. The preliminary investigation is pointing to a short in the stove wiring -- it was a very old house with bad wiring throughout.

Fortunately, the dog was in the back yard and the 2 couples were out of the house. The other couple had lost their daughter just last year. Photos were all they had left of her and the firemen had to pull the man out of the house as he desperately tried to save his daughter's pictures. They had no renters insurance. Granted they didn't have much of monetary value but some things cannot be given monetary value. Fortunately, both couples were able to salvage some photos, but that was all. So sad.

The Red Cross put them up in a room for 3 days. They are to go to the main office on Monday for further assistance in getting clothes and finding another residence. Determined to hold to my inherant optimism, I choose to believe some good will come out of all this. If nothing else, my involvement with my daughter's hardships over the past couple of years has ignited my social conscience and is increasingly motivating me to find some way that I may be able to facilitate local CHANGE, however small.

To all passersby: prayers, goodwill...whatever positive energy your belief system can generate and project in my direction, will be greatly appreciated.

My most recent ‘series of unfortunate events’ has touched upon several areas this week. But in considering the extent of the ‘unfortunate events’ that many throughout the world (and even within my own community) have to face, my problems seem not so monumental and I’ve limbered up a little this week emotionally (or am I just EXHAUSTED?), which has enabled me to ‘roll’ with the punches a little better.

Tues morning I was rudely awakened by a blow to my nose -- one of my cats used my face as a springboard for a bold leap to the floor...leaving me with a badly bruised and sore nose and a huge, unsightly gash across the bridge of my nose which looks as though I may have had a run-in with Freddy Krueger during the night.

Moving on to my geek affairs, some vague and intermittent ‘weirdness’ with my computer that began over the weekend began to escalate into an all-out heyday of weirdness, when I booted up to find my Norton Antivirus auto-protect disabled (and I wasn’t the one who disabled it). Not only was it disabled, but it would not allow me to ENable it again. Nor was I able to connect to the Internet (horror of HORRORS!). Assuming some sort of stupidity on my part, I began finagling with all sorts of things in my efforts to recover from the weirdness...all the while, trying to ignore the possibility that I’d been hit with a virus (indicated by the fact that my security software was the first line of attack). I ran myself around in circles all week with this computer, only to find that with each reboot, the weirdness only continued to escalate. Desktop icons began duplicating themselves and were no longer useable, all my restore settings disappeared (there were no more previous ‘healthy’ states to return to), my computer was telling me I was missing built-in hardware, it was not recognizing USB devices, etc. Fortunately, I had an extra, virgin hard drive on hand. After backing up critical files to CDs (the DVD/R was no longer being recognized), I swapped out drives. Verdict confirmed...whatever the issue, it was all about the hard drive, as the virgin had no problems whatsoever (there are some things to be said for the state of ‘purity’).

As a result of some research done online today during lulls in the workflow at the office, it appears that I likely fell victim to one of the newer viruses spreading like wildfire these days. Likely, my only hope at this point for saving the old hard drive is to reformat it and reinstall Windows XP...(not to mention all the OTHER programs, fonts, etc. -- just what I needed, something ELSE to do).

All this aforementioned PC aggravation only reinforces my recent decision to return to Apple. Early last weekend, I’d actually placed an online order for a new top-of-the-line Dell laptop. To justify the expenditure, I thought I’d sell my old Mac G4, so I booted it up (I’ve rarely used it at all since getting the PC laptop) so I could collect some info from it that might help me sell it. To my surprise, as I browsed about the good old mac interface, I was absolutely blown away by how much faster the old G4 blazed through my demanding graphics applications. Just to convince myself, I actually performed some of my own ‘benchmark’ tests to compare each machine’s abilities at processing data in graphics files...the old G4 actually ran CIRCLES around the Dell!

Needless to say, I cancelled the Dell order and ordered a new 17" PowerBook G4 instead. The configuration I chose was loaded...MORE computer than the ‘top-of-the-line’ Dell, for a few hundred dollars LESS. Researching the product, I found several ‘real’ benchmark test results between the PowerBook G4 and the Dell I’d originally ordered...the Mac was 1.3-1.7 times faster at running ALL the graphics apps I use regularly, and more efficient at running several programs at one time. All this, together with the mac’s traditional immunity to the most common viruses...after having fraternizing with the PC enemy for 3 wasted years, I now humbly return to the superior Macintosh with my humiliated tail between my legs (proverbially speaking).

I will no doubt keep the old Dell around. It has been a faithful and serviceable companion for the past 3 years and there are always those archaic programs that are still too prehistoric to provide a Macintosh platform, so it is good to have a good PC on hand. But the PowerBook G4 has won my heart back from the dark side. Being the sharp and savvy lady that she is, Monicoo followed my good example and ordered her one too. Hers is scheduled to arrive the day after mine...we are sooooo excited!!! We’re are considering getting together over the weekend with our new toys and having our own private geek party. I know Jim will be proud of us...

Whenever my experience takes me into unfamiliar territory, I have a compulsion to learn everything possible about that particular new thing. Since my run-in with some sort of computer ‘infection’ last week (that caused me to have to completely reformat my hard drive), I’ve been browsing old newsletters from antivirus.about.com...newsletters and current info on Internet safety issues that I had evidently become far too complacent about.

It appears there is much more danger out here in the worldwide web ocean than mere viruses! I’ve been reading about ‘zombies,’ bots, and a host of other horrifying things that can happen to our computers, as bad or sometimes WORSE than the old fashioned viruses and worms. In fact, reassessing my recent experience (along with a host of other ‘peculiar’ symptoms that I’d been having for MONTHS prior to this recent ‘meltdown’), it is likely that my own PC has been a ‘zombie’ for some months now. And my most recent exploits with my carelessly configured wireless network (which I’ve just learned was unsecured and wide open to all manner of cyber attacks) was undoubtedly what sent my system over the edge...which in a sense, could well have been a blessing in disguise. The failure of my system FORCED me to take some actions that led to my discovery of my own ignorance and carelessness, and to take the measures necessary to correct my errant ways.

As the ‘evil’ in cyberspace becomes more and more sophisticated and widespread, keeping our computers (especially PCs) and the information on them secure is becoming a DAILY responsibility that requires our own ongoing education regarding the latest threats and daily vigilance in incorporating protection. Technology is a wonderful thing, but its many wonders does not come without a price that, depending upon an individual’s/nation’s dependence upon it, could be unspeakably costly in the long run.

God...my hippie, nature-freak personality is being awakened. Some interesting things to consider. Sssheeeesss...my life is complicated enough these days...like I need even one more thing to be responsible for! I’m thinking I should plant a garden in the back yard this spring, fertilize it with my own horses’ manure, toss my cable modem out the window and dig a hole next to the house to bury what little money I have.

Maybe that’s what I SHOULD do. But for the moment, I have some online bills to pay and passwords to change...before I go a-surfing the web once more (albeit, with considerably more caution than in times past).

Some good times and fun in store for ME, baby! Thanks Silvara7!

Which Hunky Movie Character Will You Marry?
Username
Favorite film type	noirhorroraction adventuredramaromancecomedydramadyanimatedanimated musicalmusicalsadultepicshistoricalscience fictionwarwesternschickflicks
Character	Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Carribean)
Wedding	Screw the wedding, you're living in sin
Honeymoon	A month in some tropical paradise, with scantily clad men and women waiting on you hand and foot (when you're not busy screwing each other senseless)
Chance that your marriage will last - 91%
Number of kids you'll have together	15
This QuickKwiz by nicki - Taken 17802 Times.

New - How do you get a guy to like you?

Can anyone tell me where DUST comes from? Is it just the residual effect of LIFE in general -- the sum total of the sloughed off discarded particles of a million life forms (EEEWWWWW...THAT’S a creepy thought)? Should not all things that are, have some sort of reason for being...some PURPOSE, some GOAL for its existence to fulfill? Does dust serve any purpose whatsoever under heaven?! Could it be that the perpetual ANNOYANCE of every housekeeper is reason enough?

One of my deepest darker fears is that I will choke to death in my sleep upon the overabundance of dust/feathers/dander/andgodknowswhatelse that knows no remedy in my end of the house (or my mom’s for that matter...and she DOESN’T have a dozen critters to blame).

I FINALLY got my farrier here today to trim my mares’ hooves. For a myriad of reasons, it had been far too long since their last trim. The little fat appy mare’s feet had begun to spread out like dinner plates, while missy prissy’s front frogs had all but disappeared in the caverns of her high heels. The dogs love it when the farrier comes...they love to gnaw on and eventually ingest the hoof trimmings...scrumptious protein I suppose. They love hoof trimmings almost as much as they relish horse manure (what could THAT be compared to...preprocessed SALAD?!).

The farrier’s visit was followed by a compulsive attack upon the shrubbery. I’d started out with only the intent to trim back the shrubs near my hay storage, but found myself falling victim to my obsessive-compulsive tendencies and trimming not only ALL the overgrown shrubs near the house, but also those along the barnyard fence and then on to the roadside. I’d been madly trimming for over an hour before I realized that I felt like crap. Perhaps I’d better get the weekly trip to the grocery store over with before I collapsed in a heap of DUST in my den.

Rain’s on the way the Weather Channel says. I’m settled in now with a movie and a warm blanket, hoping against hope that this overwhelming achiness is due to my attack upon the shrubbery and not a virus seeking a home for a few days. We’re watching Radio -- it’s been on for less that 15 mins and I’m already crying. It’s entertaining though, to hear folk from other parts of the country try to imitate the classic Southern drawl. Many an accent can be skillfully reproduced by talented actors/actresses, but I can’t recall ever hearing a really accurate reproduction of the true Southern dialect by an actor for whom it didn’t come natural.

The weekend is almost over and a good time has been had by all. A welcome change from weekends prior.

Commentator Andrei Codrescu remembers time spent with writer Hunter S. Thompson, who committed suicide earlier this week. He remarks on the honesty and brilliance of the unique journalist's writings.

• Family Plans Gonzo Sendoff for Hunter Thompson
• Hunter S. Thompson Found Dead at His Home
• Hunter S. Thompson: An Appreciation

OK, I promised to do this, but as with most everything else I do (and taking a cue from Shiny), I felt compelled to make a couple of changes most in keeping with my peculiarities. So here goes:

01. Reply with your name and I will write something about you.
02. I will then tell what movie reminds me of you.
03. I will tell you what kind of animal/bird most reminds me of you.
04. I will try to name a single word that best describes you.
05. I'll tell you the most memorable moment I've had with you.
06. I will tell you what plant/insect you remind me of.
07. I'll then tell you something that I've always wondered about you.
08. I’ll tell you what kind of food most reminds me of you (because I don’t care if this quizzy thingee goes in anyone else’s journal or not).

Hot and humid. Daytime highs from mid 80s and or higher. No discernable winds (except when accompanying thunderstorms). Humidity: STIFLING. Evening lows in mid 60s. Chance of afternoon or evening thunderstorms with a possibility of damaging winds and dangerous lightning.

Now, with the exception of watching the live doppler radar to see exactly WHEN you may be hit by one of these storms…who needs the WEATHERMAN during a SC summer?!

I confess, I watch Big Brother. Mainly because (of COURSE there’s a legitimate, logical excuse!) it’s on while I’m either exercising or unwinding from work and it is not necessary to engage the mind to watch it while you do other, more important things (like blogging). Besides, I live in the south, talk with a twang, drive an old, beat up pickup truck and live on a farm – thus could be considered by some (at least according to appearances) to be an illiterate hillbilly or even *gasps*…‘redneck’ – hence I’m entitled to some uncouth habits.

So with my defensive maneuver out of the way…

Kaysar’s back in the house, via over 85% of the vote of the American viewers. (So much for any claims that America is prejudiced towards Muslims or fellow citizens of mid-eastern descent.) And yes, I placed my share of votes – maybe MORE than my share. Not only is the guy hot as a firecracker and quite pleasant to the eyes, but he’s also smart as a whip, keenly observant and a very thoughtful, strategy player – all of which makes for so much better a game.

With the announcement, Kendall and I squealed with delight…which startled Rascal…who literally lifted himself off the floor with his initial bark, which started a ferocious barking fit at the door. Rascal hasn’t yet learned the difference between a squeal of delight and a squeal of terror, and he (all 12 lbs of him) was intent on protecting his family from the dreaded and unseen intruder.

BEWARE OF DOG.