Just a little note ... from me to you

Dear Annie:

2012-01-10T16:07:00.000-08:00

Dear Annie: Really confused on what to do right now. I have to figure out and make the biggest decision I've ever made. thanks - really confused

Dear Really Confused:

Look deepinside your heart and use every bit of your mind.

Bigdecisions are to be made in your life.

Talk tofriends and family members, listen to everyone carefully.

Write outthe pros and the cons for everything and weigh them honestly.

Take thetime and listen to others, many others … several others.

It's yourlife, your decision.

Askpeople who have "been there" and "did that."

Seekadvice from those who have lived at least twice your life.

There isa reason for the saying, wise old owls.

No onewants you to fail.

Learn topray, even attend a Church service.

Ultimately, it's your choice and you will have to live with it.

Not only today, tomorrow, but the years ahead.

Goodluck. I will be praying for you.

~Annie

Noel'a

2012-01-09T17:55:00.003-08:00

Hello!

I'm your Christmas puppy.

All I need is LOVE

Lots & Lots of LOVE!

Will you be my Christmas human?

I promise to love you

Very Very much,

for as long as I live.

Noel'a

On This Day

2012-01-08T14:30:00.004-08:00

I willboast, and I will brag

Twenty-two years ago today.

On thisdate, January eighth.

In aninstant I learned the true meaning of love.

So manyfirsts, my heart was about to burst.

Ready ornot, he decided to come.

I carriedhim for nine months, plus nine long days.

Hestretched, he kicked, and I'm sure he cracked a rib.

I carriedhim in front, in back and even in my feet.

Herefused to come on that cold December day.

He waswaiting for the perfect day.

On thisdate, January eighth.

Firsttime mom and a first time dad,

It wasverified that we were a bit terrified.

I shookas they placed him in my arms,

His darkblue eyes met mine, it was divine.

A love sotrue and new,

I didn'tknow existed.

Until this date, January eighth.

Firsttime parents, first true love.

Twenty-twoyears
Passed so fast!

Seemslike only yesterday.

What anamazing date,
January Eighth

Blaze

2012-01-06T13:58:00.000-08:00

Hiding inthe back of my cage, I sat quivering while watching the huge beast enter andthen grab one, and occasionally two, of my siblings and then they vanish. Themonsters slip in, and slide back out, leaving before I can whimper a goodbye tomy brothers. My family was being picked apart by these monsters as the daypassed. I was the lucky one, the last one remaining. Our cage was cold and thestench left was the only thing left of my brothers and sisters. I'm the last ofmy family, only thing left are the memories. Hiding behind the remaining partsof our flattened bed, I shook and moaned. My brother Billy had spent hourstearing and pulling the stuffing out of this bed. Now I curl up behind it sofrightened my bones hurt.

Feelingweaker every passing day, I had no appetite and felt no energy to movefor a drink of water. Sleeping occupied my day and night, however I couldn’ttell day from night. There wasn't a window to see the light, just a bulbdangling from the ceiling above. My cage door opened and closed often,interrupting sleep, but no one entered except for the occasional food and waterbeing tossed in clanking to the floor.

Mourningthe loss of my family, missing them with my whole heart, I slept. Dreaming ofthe tug-a-war that I played with my siblings, the fights we would have overfood, and when we slept we piled high on this single unstuffed square pillowthing. We didn't have much, but we had each other. My brother Ted ate most thefood, a meal or two was missed because of him, but I sit here now aching forTed.

Therattling of the door opening was followed by soft voices, two strangersentering my cage and sat. Without opening my eyes I knew they were monsters, Iacted as if I were sleeping, but couldn't stop my body from stiffening. My hairon my back stood straight up and I forced myself to be brave and open my eyes.

Two setsof eyes were staring at me. The humans seem to whisper to one another as theysat looking at me. My eyes slowly focused on the two, they didn't seem to bemonsters at all. One girl, one boy, sat smiling at me. I stood slowly andwalked slower towards them hoping for a better smell, as I wondered why theydecided to come here and invade my cage.

Mynostrils flared trying to sort the strange new smells. The closer I inched myway, the smells got stronger. She had something very yummy in her fingers, shecalled it a treat. The boy had a new ball on a rope toy, like the one I playedwith Ted, but this one was new and wasn't shredded and the ball wasn't bald andbroken. When they lifted their hands I crawled backwards and ran to my hidingplace. Never taking my eyes off of them, scared they might capture me and takeme out to the monsters that lived outside. The most curious thing was, thesetwo intruders smelt like heaven to me.

Thestrangers left and I curled up for my nap. The floor seemed colder and harderthan usual. I closed my eyes but my mind kept running with thoughts of thesestrangers that entered my cage. The girls smile was warm, friendly and hersmell was what I imagined mothers would be. I don't remember my mother, butwhen I dreamt of a tender touch and wonderful smells I felt it was mother. Theboy smelt of the earth, I bet he plays outside with friends and even chasesballs. What were they doing in my cage? Were they thinking of taking me to themonsters outside?

The daysand nights got longer and the cage got colder. What is my purpose, why am Ihere? Where did my family go, as I cried and howled to the light up above?

The cagedoor creaked open, making my body sit, my hair raised as I backed away slowlyfrom the opening door. Two sets of blue eyes smiling down on me. Gentle, kindas they moved slowly to sit on my floor. It's the boy and the girl from daysbefore. I can smell them; I can taste the treat with only the memory. The boyholds the same toy and this time offers it to me. I sniff and my whole bodygives in to their kindness, to their light and warmth they bring into my darkcold life. I grab the toy with my teeth, whipping it left and right, then chaseit, I'm so dizzy, and I sit. They laugh; I halt and look at them tilting myhead from side to side. Fright, then flight is what the old me would have done,but this laughter was pure and welcoming. So, with the toy in my mouth, Ipranced over to them letting them rub their paws all over me. It felt good, itsmelt wonderful and an instant joy rang throughout my body. We played for hoursbefore they left, and I cried howling to the ceiling and whimpering off to mycold corner.

Suddenlythe door sprang open. The same boy and the girl walked back in placed a calleraround my neck and he lifted me into his arms. I wasn't scared for the firsttime, my hair didn't stand up on my back and I was shaking but it wasn't fear.I was shaking with excitement! My body wiggled as they giggled. We walked outinto the light of the bright ball, they call the sun, and with their armsaround me I could tell I found my new family.

The Big C

2012-01-05T09:11:00.000-08:00

Closing my eyes, I lifted my face into thewarmth of the sun. The salty wind rushed over my bare skin. Skin covered onlyby my favorite two piece suit. I sat on the bow of our 52 foot Gulf Starsailboat as it cut through the clear blue waters of the Caribbean. It was trulymy favorite place to hang out when growing up on that sailboat. There wasn't abetter place to let your mind free and get away from family in the tightquarters of our boat in which we called home.

The years spent onour boat were the leading cause of my skin cancer. Basil or Melanoma, my bodyhas no predigest to which one, and it shows up whenever and wherever it wants.Not like my fellow cancer waiting roommates, I am thirty, sometimes forty yearstheir junior. Skin cancer didn't wait on me, nor did it have any formalannouncement, it just arrived.

Hearing the doctorsay the C word, "you have cancer" doesn't get easier, it's lessshocking, but the C word is becoming a nuisance and it’s not quite as easy as people say."Skin cancer is no big deal, you just have it cut out and it's gone."I can't tell you how many dozen times I've heard that statement. If only theycould walk in a skin cancer patients shoes, once! Not that I wish the C word onanyone, no way!

Reading andhearing stories of people battling cancer, makes my encounters with the big Cseem like a walk in the park. I honestly couldn't imagine being so brave and socourageous. Through the throbbing of my ear, recovering from having a thirdhole punched out if it and reconstructive surgery ahead, I feel like a wimp,and can only sit feeling helpless as I pray for all cancer patients. Wishing Icould be more like the brave people who are fighting a much bigger battle!However, no cancer is simply a "walk in the park" and no one shouldinvalidate you.

Welcoming therest, I sit feeling blood running into my inner ear and hoping for a fastrecovery, and praying this will be my last encounter with the big C. Closing myeyes my mind drifts as I dream of the sun on my face and the breeze across mybody. But this time I'm protected wearing sun screen, new fashionable sunprotected clothing and a hat!

Trying to Hold It In

2012-01-01T08:52:00.001-08:00

Twenty two years of being a mom and I'm still trying to figure it out.

Until you're a parent the word love is tossed around, used and even abused. The creation and the unborn child gives you a glimmer of a glimpse of the real meaning of love. However, when he or she enters the world and is placed in your arms is when you realize any use of the word "love" prior had no meaning in comparison.

It's not hard to figure out that a parents love for their child is unconditional and unbelievably strong. So, when a new parent boast and brag about their child's firsts, it's easy to smile and reminisce about your own children's firsts. It's almost painful to keep your stories inside.

Brag in front of your adult or teen children and be prepared for some backlash. You're proud of them and you want everyone to know their talents and successes. But somewhere is drawn a very fine invisible line. Each child has a unique set of unwritten rules and boundaries that a parent must honor. My best advice is know their boundaries and seriously honor them, and do your best to respect them.

Special talents are especially hard for a parent to hold in. It's cute to brag about your new born or toddler, it's annoying if they are any older. You might as well be saying, "my kids better than your kid." my children are talented in different ways, even talents I'm discovering as they become adults, but I didn't realize my friends were thinking to themselves, "kill me before she says anything else about another one of her children." I now try to Hold It In!

Learning to hold it in! Painful, was learning that friends, even my closest friends, secretly didn't want to hear of my children's accomplishments. Serenity Prayer pops in my mind and I truly put these meaningful words to use.

God, grant me the serenity to accept

The things I can not change,

Courage to change the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

Accept the things I can not change ... I'm not willing to drop my friends for how they feel, I love them for who they are, I'm not going to change them. I know I can change by being more sensitive on what topics I bring to the table. This would help not only my friendships but my trust and relationships with my children.

The most important lesson learned is respecting my children's privacy and their boundaries. This respect would limit, if not omit, simply talking about my children to others. Twenty two years as a mom and I'm still learning in baby steps.

Every parent with multiple children know that each child has different traits, attitudes and personalities. Boundaries vary with every child, rules change with age and each child demands fairness and equality between siblings. As impossible as it sounds, a parent tries their very best.

Living and learning, learning is living! I've accepted the things I can not change in others and in myself. I'm working on my courage to change the things I can, and wisdom comes with age and in time to know the difference. Abiding by my children's unwritten rules, and my friends unspoken wishes, I can only grow with learning to Hold It In.

'Hold It In' has brought my friends closer, gained more trust in my kids and actually it has made my heart grow. I'm truly bursting with pride. Some things in life are worth the silence, it's taken me years to realize its significance and I know I'm still learning to Hold It In.

Dash

2011-10-11T12:31:00.001-07:00

It’s all about living YOUR dash!

The ‘dash’ that stands for the years you lived,

From birth to death.

The ‘dash’ that symbolizes not only the length of your stay,

But the quality of your visit.

Is your ‘dash’ BOLD, soft, italic, script, narrow …

What font is your ‘dash’?

If I had a ‘dash’ …

It would be J

God Only Knows

2011-10-11T12:05:00.002-07:00

If I were to die in a car accident tomorrow or cancer in a month or a year ...

Who would really care?

What mark did I leave, or what path did I pave?

Whose life did I touch, or did anyone even care?

Did I make a difference, a ripple in the water or change a in the weather?

From here, my life is so little. Simple as they come.

Day to day, I walk the path as I did the night before.

Never heard, I screamed so loud.

Never seen, I beat my fists and pulled my hair.

The walls are built around me. I want to tear them down, free me.

I couldn’t see the writing on the walls, nor could I hear the music in the air.

Who built this wall? Who snuffed the sound?

I want to know why I am here today or even yesterday.

God only knows, why doesn’t He share his secret with me?

Did I make a difference? Did anybody care?

I don’t hear the music, written on the page.

I don’t see the vivid colors, in my rage.

I tried my best, I put myself to the test, but all I found was nothing more than, simplicity.

If I were to die in a car accident tomorrow or cancer in a month or a year …

Who would really care?

Toss my ashes out to sea, and please remember me.

I was the smile in the crowd, the laugh that stole stares and the one who really cared!

Who's Homework Is It Anyway?

2011-08-02T09:00:00.001-07:00

Who's homework is it, anyway?

A mom emailed me this note right before school started:

"Good Morning. I was up half the night. I am so stressed out that I won't be able to help my daughter with her school work. Help!"

My answer:

#1. It's only middle school, you can breathe

#2. It's her homework, not your homework

#3. This is the perfect time in life for you to let her take full responsibility for her actions.

It is hard as heck not to help them when you can, but this is the way they grow up to be responsible adults.

#4. Your job is simple. Just make sure she is doing her job (homework).

#5. Quiz her for tests and exams even if she doesn't think she needs it.

#6. Stay on top of it at all times, you slip (or relax) and she will too!

#7. Remember, No homework will be assigned that wasn't covered in class.

If the homework instructions, or problems, are not clear, it's her fault she didn't ask at school. Again, not your fault.

Learning responsibility and the consequences are two reasons middle school is so difficult for kids. If you "feel sorry" for them and do their homework for them in middle school, be prepared to do their work as adults.

Drugs do Kill

2011-08-01T13:27:00.005-07:00

Forty seven year old white male found unresponsive in hotel room. A foam substance oozing from his mouth, a crack pipe and rocks lying next to him on the night stand, it appeared to be an overdose with little hope of survival.

The officer on the scene didn’t see the need to arrest the corpse like body which was surrounded by paramedics who were frantically moving about yelling vital signs, starting IV's, pounding on his chest, then tossing the cold blue body onto a gurney and rushing him out the door.

Arriving at the hospital, the paramedics hand over the case to the doctors. They incubate the 92 degree lifeless body, frantically moving around, shouting orders, bringing the man back to life. His vital signs weak, one lung burst, the other filled with liquid cocaine, his chest crackling, kidneys failing and his heart suffering a mild heart attack. Six hours in the ICU, he is stabilized and sent to the CCU. Under constant care, his prognosis looks grim.

The paramedics hand the hospital the man's person belongings. Finding only a wallet with a driver’s license listing a post office box as his residence, there was little information for the hospital staff to locate family.

An early morning knock on the door, my sister-in-law opened it and stared into a face of a sheriff deputy. Once the information sunk in, bad news traveled fast, as if a sudden storm swiftly blew in and threw us up against the hospital wall. Entering the hospital, no words found, just hands held, we walked not knowing what to expect. At the CCU double doors we were briefed on my brother's condition as we cautiously entered the room.

The air sucked from my lungs, I couldn't tell if my heart stopped or raced, feeling numb as we stood staring at the swollen, discolored man surrounded by the machines keeping him alive. His body had tubes of all sizes protruding from everywhere. Machines beeped, sang and hummed around us. We inched our way closer, hoping this wasn't him, praying that we would wake up from this nightmare. We listened to details as they pass over and around us, the information drifting slowly into our brains as the numbness turned into reality.

Reaching towards his hand, I softly touched it with one finger as if his hand would explode. It was as cold as ice, and tight as a drum, swollen to the point of bursting. Running my hand towards his wrist I moved his vinyl identification bracelet because it appeared to be cutting off circulation to his hand. The name was his, but the bar-code was strange. His face was oddly swollen and a tube protruded from his mouth, giving his body every breath. All of these things made the severity of his situation hit home. As the room began to take shape, and reality settled in, our phones began to ring and we were faced with putting into words to family what we were seeing and not believing. The few numbers I could understand on the instruments that surrounded us read: HR 92, BP 60/84 and the word coma.

Calls and text messages started to drain our cell phone batteries. Texts to family and friends read something like this: “I don't know if you have been told yet, but my brother has overdosed on drugs. He is in CCU at the local Hospital. He is unconscious (coma state) and is on life support. However, his organs are stable but tests are showing little sign of brain activity. I'll text you with updates if you want them. Prayers are needed and appreciated”.

Time was spent reflecting on the days, weeks, months and years of drug abuse that led him to this day. We spent wasted hours trying to guess the events of the fateful night. My years of watching CSI, Law & Order and Criminal Intent seemed to all roll into one massive brainstorming marathon. This only took our minds temporarily off the real situation. Lying in front of us was my brother's lifeless body, being caressed by multiple machines to keep him with us, in this world.

One long day led to another. The second day became more real, more authentic than the first. The machines are still humming, buzzing and beeping, with an occasional array of toots that after some time started to resemble the Cucaracha Mexican horn song. Standing over his body for countless hours watching the flashing numbers and lines bounce across the monitors was exhausting. His heart rate reads 68 today, BP 113/75 and his pulmonary artery pressure number has risen from 8 to 12. He still doesn't respond to any one's voice, nor does he respond to doctor’s or nurse’s commands. We stand helpless, and try to remain hopeful. The doctors arrive reading charts, buzz the room glancing at the monitors, they scribble their own notes in his chart. They leave as swiftly as they arrive telling us the obvious. He is disconnected and doesn't respond to commands. They give us a rundown of what they see, what medications are being pumped into his body, what damage he has done to his body. Then the hard questions come. A long time user, an addict, and convincing each doctor this was an accidental overdose. Each question the doctors asked seem to fade into blackness. But we held on to, hope can't be lost.

Day two and day three seemed to run together. A routine was settling in, and nurses were becoming our friends and our support. Keeping myself busy taking little notes of what the monitors were reading, what nurses where saying, and doctors statements. Watching as the ultrasound technician came in to check his kidneys, bladder, and lungs. Even his full bladder was noted and catheter checked. His temperature was high, his body was fighting infection. His heart rate had elevated to104 and his blood pressure read 117/59. The doctor told us yesterday he was close to needing dialysis; his kidneys were close to failing. The next time I noted his blood pressure it was 91/54 and his heart rate was 60. The doctors words echoed in my mind "give it time, a day or two." As the next two days, three days all blurred together, his prognosis stayed the same, Grim.

New hope, new fears raced, as we heard the nurse tell us that during the night when they lowered the amount of Propofol our patient would wake in a rage. They would strap him down to his gurney firmer and they had to give him an extra sedative to calm him. Our first question raced from our mouths, "is he waking up?" They never really answered, except for suggesting it was only a reaction to what his body was going through. Later that day, when we experienced him "waking up" it was like a scene from a horror movie. His arms elevated finding them bound to the bed. His hands never made fists, but his arm muscles bulged. He then lifted his head and upper body from the bed. His eyes opened in slits, as we stared into deep, dark, and beady, emptiness. As his body shook and rose up from his bed, his face and body became deep red as he growled and roared. We both jumped back from the bed in alarm, the nurses rushed in to sedate him. We giggled, showing both our nerves and our fear. That is when we nicknamed the event and my brother, the Hulk.

A blood curling scream shoots me from my bed and out of a dream, from my “sleep”, hurling me toward the kitchen and a new pot of coffee. Two hours sleep, and the shakes are making it all the harder to face the day. Today I watched my boys drive down the long driveway heading north to enjoy our family vacation. Two of my boys have heart diseases and I don't want to burden them with more stress than needed.

Our shoes seemed to grow heavier each day with every step we took, walking down the long corridor to the Critical Care Unit (CCU). It was taking its toll on us, but today the walk seemed to lengthen two miles as we guided our parents down the hall for the first time. My heart breaks one more time for them, remembering how it felt when my middle son had heart surgery, but to them this was so much more. I held my mother's arm as we walked, but she appeared to be numb and disconnected herself. Dad walked behind, his face filled with such emptiness it was hard not to cry. The embodiment of pure pain and anguish, their body language says the rest.

My parents, our parents, entered the room as if moving through quick sand. The rueful look on their faces, their shoulders slumped and eyes narrowed, and a heavy sense of unspoken fright. We stood surrounding his body as it continued to be caressed by multiple machines. I spoke out to my brother making the announcement of mom and dad's arrival. Speaking to my brother had become as natural and normal as if he were wide awake. Often I would speak and answer for him, as if to agree with him that once again I'm stating the obvious. Using the same phrases he used towards me throughout my life. These phrases are memories of the forty-four years we have had together. Sayings, phrases and memories all brought back to life. These memories were shared with all who came in the room. With these memories came smiles and even laughter, helping lighten this mournful, dreadful room. Today, with my parents at his side, I backed out of the room saying to him, "I know, I know, I’ll get out, I'm bugging the tar out of you."

"Two steps forward, one big step backwards," the nurse said as we walked into his room. Last night’s events were listed, and his throat is swelling so a Tracheotomy procedure will need to be done as soon as possible. It seemed as fast as I was typing my next "To All" text about the procedure, the nurse walked out to announce it was done.

Hospital day 4: A Tracheotomy procedure is being done now. He seems the same, but fighting the hospital staff more while in the coma. He really responded to mom and dad's voices this morning. But he doesn't focus his eyes or respond to commands at all.

He is still out and hasn't woken up. He is beginning to open his eyes, yet no one seems to be home. A specialist has been running tests on his brain, and little activity exists. However, it is noted that his dosage of Propofol may be affecting these tests. Their goal for the next twenty-four hours is to drop the amount significantly to get accurate readings. The doctors and nurses repeat: "give it a day or two, and then we will see more."

Day 5, my text read: The Tracheotomy procedure went well yesterday but my brother still hasn't responded to anything. The doctors are letting him rest for a few days before taking him off or lowering his dosage of Propofol again. When they lower the dosage now, he reacts, awakes in shock (making himself Hulk like) putting himself back two steps not letting his body recover. So again, we will sit and wait. He looks as if he is sleeping and more at peace today. I'll keep you posted.

Day six is much like day five; however a new doctor came in, and took my sister-in-law and me aside and had no good news. My brother is in a "guarded" condition and is under 24/7 monitoring; he is on life support and has no signs of "anyone being home." Then the doctor repeated: "we just have to give it time." However, the doctor told us to prepare for the worst.

I held my weeping sister-in-law and could only allow us to be positive and hope for the best. I poked fun at how stubborn he is, and that because of his hardheadedness he should be able to pull through this! What I didn't show, was myself falling apart as I spent hours on the phone with our family attorney having documents faxed over to the hospital, a living will, power of attorney and all the legal documents that might be needed. When setting these documents up and signing them, you never truly believe you will actually use them, especially at forty-seven years old.

Texting was becoming harder each day. In each text I was trying to stay positive, with a bit of information, until the next day. Day 7 text: Propofol and his Methadone dosages are being lowered in order to prepare him for tests tomorrow. They want him to rest today, so family is being shooed out of the room. It's scary to see him gag/cough but he continues to show us he is fighting. His head followed dad's voice around the bed this morning. This event could be a great sign or it could be false hope. His recovery is depending on his brain activity and we continue to hope and pray. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. I will continue to keep you posted.

We said our hellos and our good nights all at once. Knowing we couldn't stay because he needed his rest. The biggest hesitation to leave him today was the fact that his eyes are open. We watched his eyes while we talked with him. We stroked his arms, rubbed his shoulders, caressed his inflated hands and continued to stare at his dark eyes that we knew once as blue. They focused on no one; they aimed at nothing, staring blankly without even blinking. Would he return to us, was the question haunting my head?

CCU day 8 was a bit eventful. This morning we entered to find him propped up in a sitting position trying to wake up or stay awake. He shook his head swiftly, as if to force his eyes to focus. As the day progresses he is becoming more irritable and frustrated. So, he's getting back to normal. A little more slap happy humor was slipping from my lips. I yearned for him to wake up and even kick me out of his room.

My sister-in-law bounced out of my brother's CCU room saying that he had spoken his first words: "I want drink." we rushed into the room, to find him still in a slumped sitting position and staring out blankly. We are waiting for more tests to be done and test results to come back. Could this be the first signs of him waking up? Or is my sister-in-law in the midst of some kind of a break down? The Trache is still in, he can’t speak, but signs of him waking up are certain. His oxygen levels, blood pressure, heart rate are all improving, but he is not out of the woods. The doctors are still questioning his ability to respond to commands. We are feeding him words and trying to let him know where he is and why he is here. However, he ended the afternoon with much frustration and started raging and growling again. The doctors had to sedate him, and family was sent home for the night.

Day 9 text: He is waking up! Dad asked him if he would rather be on a beach. My brother nodded, yes. He is confused and doesn't know why he is here. He seems to be extremely aggravated. He has minimal controlled motor skills but he is moving his arms and legs. I'll keep you updated. We are happy with today's (Day 9) progress!

Progress and miracles seem to bless the room. Nurses buzz in and out, removing several of the hanging drip medicines from the hangers. The young vampires entered the room to take their daily blood samples. Today the inexperienced one stayed outside, because their victim is very much awake now and wouldn't appreciate someone not finding the vein. Doctors entered looking at charts, and slipped away as quickly as they entered.

Communication was challenging. We tried a note pad and pen, but he couldn't grip the pen. His fingers still didn't respond to his commands. We tried putting the iPad Doodle AP in front of him. This would allow him to write by running his finger over the board, but he couldn't point one finger nor lift his hand from the board once he started. Frustration was an issue. He swished us away using his arms, as if saying, "Never mind."

The next big step we took was bringing his youngest daughter in to see him. As she walked into the room my brother smiled the biggest smile! It was a wonderful moment. Quickly, he fell asleep. Hopefully he will rest well now with wonderful thoughts of his little girl.

My youngest son texted me and asked, "that was awful, do you think he will stop doing u-kno-what, drugs?" My answer: “I sure hope so, but as of today he doesn't remember why he was in the hospital”. :(

In the next few days frustration and patience have been wearing thin for our patient. We arrive to find him once again bound to his bed. Apparently, he is unaware of the severity of his condition and continues to ignore the tubes and needles protruding from his body. He decided to attempt to get out of his bed and walk out last night. Nurses and the hospital security tackled him back into bed and restraints were needed.

After a couple days of not texting, several were wondering what was going on. Trying to avoid writing texts like; my brother is being a big pain in the nurse’s rear, and, thank goodness they are keeping us out of the room to run tests because his irritable mood is not pleasant in any way. I attempted a text and wrote: The hospital visits are getting shorter due to all of the tests. He is still communicating by hand gestures. Last night he pulled his feeding tube out, so today he went without! Oh Boy! He learned today that he was in a coma for nine days and how guarded his condition was but the news didn't seem to help his "lovely" mood. Day eleven was basically the start of a long road to recovery.

The following day as we entered his room he mouthed words to us. We realized he was breathing on his own; the Trache was not attached to the machine. He lifted his unrestrained hand to plug his Trache hole. When he covered the hole with his fingers the complaints flowed like rushing lava from an erupting volcano. Ignoring the words spoken we gasped with delight, he speaks! The content was meaningless. His voice was all that mattered to us, but his vocal ability was the nurse’s newest nightmare. Twelve days ago, I didn't know if I would ever hear his voice again so I was thrilled.

Day 13 text: Today was a busy day in room 555. All tubes are out, he's walking with a walker, eating soft food & fussing a lot! Amazing progress and he might be heading to rehab in a few days. He is fighting bad critters so please continue to send prayers his way.

No need to tell everyone in a text that my brother ripped all of his tubes out himself, including his IV's! He is being extremely difficult. But, inside I know this is why he is recovering so well, and so fast. It wasn't a shock when they moved him out of the CC Unit that next morning. I spoke to each doctor that entered the room and we discussed tests that were still needed. The most concerning was the physiologist evaluation. We could tell he was still disoriented, and was facing with brain damage and memory loss. He even asked to see an orthopedic surgeon about his foot he broke months ago. The doctors would come in and he would complain of pain, but he had no complaints of any pain while we were alone together. He seems to remember every one of us in the room, but he never asks about anyone outside the room. Is this how self-centered he has become, or is he having a hard time remembering?

Sneaking into his room while he was sound asleep was difficult because of the heavy door slamming behind me. There was only a slight pause in his snoring breaths, a head toss and then once again snoring. I sat reading for two hours before he woke, but I was glad to be there when he opened his eyes. Because of his disease of addiction, I've been told, "it's just a matter of when, not if." He is truly a lucky one and has been given another chance. Now I can only pray that he uses this gift and will fight the disease with all his might, and get his life back. A chance to be the dad his girls want and deserve and the husband to his wife needs. And, maybe one day, he can be the son that my parents always dreamed of. Who knows, maybe even a big brother to me, instead of me playing big sister.

My family returned from vacation and we snuck off to go to lunch and to see an afternoon movie. My cell phone lit up and it was the hospital calling. They will be releasing him today! However, he has mandatory rehab because the law states that if you "die" of an overdose, you must go to rehab. The question is: Why are they calling me and not his wife? Good question. The only information given was that they will not, and cannot release him to my sister-in-law due to her history. Making the elephant in the room now all the scarier! Texts start streaming in from her and the movie gets lost between them. In short, the hospital is releasing my brother, and my sister-in-law is freaking out.

Day 14 text ... Darryl was released from the hospital & sent directly to mandatory rehab today. He is traveling to the Caron Center as I type. The doctors at the hospital all agree; he is one strong stubborn man. Well, in this case ... Thank God! Thanks for your continued prayers.

"Some people have near death experiences and come back twice as strong." ~ I overheard my brother saying this on the phone a couple days after he was released. The drama continues. The Caron Center needed to discuss this case before accepting him. So, he has made a pit stop at my parent’s house for a few days. Only four months ago, he fled from this same situation.

Twenty four days after he was found unresponsive, body temp was 92 degrees, blue, very low pulse reading and survived at the hospital. I find myself very thankful! My brother overdosed, died then was brought back to life, and now going to rehab! He has an amazing second chance.

My last text to him read:

Kick some disease butt Bro! I love you. Your little sis

Freedom is Never Free!

2011-05-29T10:42:00.001-07:00

Remembering: Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, is a national day of remembrance in honor of those who have died to obtain and preserve our USA freedoms.

War casualties: Revolutionary War (1775-1783) 4,435 total deaths. War of 1812 2,260 total deaths. Mexican War (1846-1848) 12,283 total deaths. Civil War (1861--1865) 364,511 total deaths. Spanish-American War (1898-11901) 2,446 total deaths. World War I (1917-1918) 116,516 total deaths. World War II (1941-1946) 405,399 total deaths. Korean War (1950-1953) 36,574 total deaths. Vietnam (1964-1973) 58,220 total deaths. Persian Gulf War (1990-1991) 383 total deaths. Iraq War (2003-current) 4,421 (as of mid April).

Freedom is never free!

A Valentine Eve - Random Act of Kindness

2011-02-13T18:27:00.006-08:00

Today’s Random Act of Kindness … Valentine’s Eve day, I was at our local Wal-Mart along with a third of the town's population, searching for that perfect little Valentine’s treat. While exiting, a gust of wind stripped a heart-shaped balloon from an elderly lady’s hand. The helium was not fresh, so the heart-shaped balloon bounced wickedly along the ground. I ran forward with the cart trying to trap the balloon, but it escaped. Leaving my cart behind, I went running after this wild balloon. It danced, I danced. It swirled and I swirled, we spun and we dashed. Huffing and puffing, panting and laughing, I jumped high batting it back to the ground as the wind hurled it once more. I heard the elderly lady cheer as I finally grabbed hold. As I held the balloon, I noticed the highly amused audience that had gathered. I could do nothing but laugh harder at myself to hide my total embarrassment. Carefully I handed the balloon over to its owner, knowing I looked like some crazed lady chasing a balloon in the parking lot. The woman gently touched my arm and thanked me. I looked her in the eyes as she told me that this special balloon was for her husband’s grave and she didn’t know what to do if I didn’t catch it. My heart sunk and skipped a beat as the laughter from the audience faded. This evening my heart smiles because I gave that extra effort and sacrificed looking like a buffoon to make this Valentine’s brighter for a complete stranger.

Random Act of Kindness with a Twist

2011-02-13T05:42:00.006-08:00

Yoga might not appeal to a person that seems as flexible as a two-by-four. Who would want to make spectacle of themselves by attending a Yoga class without the ability to touch your toes? The thought of a Yoga class gave me nightmarish visions, because yes, I am the two-by-four. I started hearing more and more people talk about Pilates, curiosity was evident, however, every person that spoke passionately using the word Pilates were undeniably health and fitness freaks. You know the type; tall, skinny, great posture and you never-ever see them eat a dessert. Yes, that type! Pilates and Yoga became taboo.

Random acts of kindness drives my everyday life. Whether it is picking up something that someone else dropped, holding a door open for a stranger, and sometimes it’s a much bigger act. Random acts are rarely returned, but that is not the point. The gain is how good it makes you feel. Unexpectedly I received a gift for what was a random act of kindness. A one hour private Pilates session and the appointment was already made for 11:00AM on Tuesday. No wiggle room there, I had to go or be rude! Not knowing what to expect or what to do, I went. Yoga, I still haven’t tried, but this Pilates “thing” I haven’t stopped going! Once a week or more, I attend a session. It has improved my flexibility, strength and posture. Personally, my lower back no longer aches every day and I noticed I now have incredible balance. Adding Pilates to my weekly exercise routine has given me amazing results.

A reward for a random act of kindness is rare, especially a full hour Pilates session. This note from me to you … is a random act of kindness. My goal is to entice you to attend a Pilates class, even if you too are a two-by-four.

Wacky Dreams

2011-01-26T06:24:00.007-08:00

In the heat of the summer it’s foolish not to spend hours in the pool. Jumping in, I swam underwater to the other side, came up for a breath of air, raised my head and swiped the water from my eyes. I couldn’t believe what I saw, the strangest image imaginable. My cat Twinkle was swimming with me. This was nothing like yesterday’s swim … this was weird.

The heat from the blazing sun had weakened which made a grand time for a horseback ride. As I trotted to the barn I spotted the most peculiar sight. Twinkle had saddled the pony and was riding him around the barn. The next thing I knew, he was milking the cows. Wait! We don’t have cows. I don’t know where they came from, but he liked them and they were at our barn.

Odd things are happening around here. Twinkle can swim, ride a pony and milk cows. His appearance has also started to change. He was an orange cat with bright gold eyes, but now he has blue and white stripes. Remarkably, he can talk. Abnormal and extremely unusual for a cat, wouldn’t you say?

This is no ordinary story. Nor is it an ordinary cat story. Simply, it’s about my crazy cat, Twinkle. Twinkle is sleeping with the dogs, eating my snacks, and worst of all he has taken over my video games! Strange, I know. I will challenge him to a duel and fight for my video games. No cat of mine can beat me. I am the king of Rock Band. No way can a cat battle like that! We played till my hands cramped and my eyes glazed over. Wacky, I must say. Oh that cat … he won. Bewildered, I walked away. Puzzled, I sat alone missing the old Twinkle, hoping that my old fluffy cat returns soon.

Once upon a time, which was yesterday, a gigantic talking pancake appeared on the outskirts of town. Syrup began to fall from the sky. Crashing down on the houses and huts, the syrup oozed. Flowing like lava from a volcano it crept into every corner and covered every street and sidewalk. Making it almost impossible to run or even walk. This pancake named Cody was freaking me out. He summoned me, convincing me to climb up on top of him to escape from the sticky, icky syrup. I slowly approached Cody the pancake and he was very weird. Cody mumbled something to me but I couldn’t understand him, I couldn’t hear him. Frustrated with walking through the thick syrup, I looked up and noticed a massive glass of milk and an extremely large fork. It was unbelievable. Suddenly I teleported to a village that was made of waffles, they too were weird. The waffles wanted to eat me but I am supposed to eat them. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the gigantic fork coming right towards me. I slid and scooted away like butter. Like butter? I’m butter? I learned a great lesson that day. I shouldn’t make fun of pancakes and waffles at dinner time or they will eat me.

Exhale, inhale … repeat. Blinking, focusing, closing eyes, blinking harder … repeat. Extending arms forward, staring, opening, shutting, feeling, touching … repeat. Floating weightless, as something drifts past. Confused, I’m swimming … I need air! Spinning around, what’s up what’s down? Wait. Halt. I’m breathing? Puzzled, I move, I swim. I follow schools of blue tropical fish, meander to bright coral reefs, and shoot towards brilliant arched caves. Feeling fantastic serenity while drifting, floating, I exhale, inhale, swimming, feeling and seeing the ocean blue. Hearing mom, I swim tracking her voice. Rounding the corner of a large piece of coral, eyes popping wide, stopping swiftly, pushing myself backwards into reverse. Holy sea weed! My mother … a large octopus?

Tick tick tick … ticking, clinking sounding all around me. Stop! Relentlessly, they clink, tick, dong and ding. Tick, tick, tick ringing through my gears. I am Timmy Time and I can’t seem to tell the time, so I always run a little late. Annoyed, I asked Father Time to help. He said I was born to tell time and if I couldn’t I must be damaged. Crushed, I sat there with my hands out of place. My ticking sounds were not in rhythm and one by one I watched as people passed. Tick, tick, tick … slowly time went by. A boy appeared. He begged and pleaded for me to come home with him. I believe my luck is changing. What do I see? A tool or two heading my way, a tickle, a poke, I clank and creak. Wait! Tick, tick, tick, I am no longer late … I am on time! Buzz, Buzz, Roar, Growl, Hummmmm. What is that sound? Louder and louder it rings. Turn it off, turn it off please. Wake up it screams!

Oh, what a night! Was it all a dream? Tink, drip, clink the rain is coming down hard outside. Twinkle is all wet and asleep on my bed. As I look at the clock, I’m late! Not enough time. I hurry, rushing out the door, dropping things left and right. I need at least eight arms to get to the pancake breakfast on time.

A Near Miss

2011-01-23T17:09:00.001-08:00

Mr. Rhodes surprised his wife by coming home early from work. This gave him the afternoon to spend with his ten year old son. When the boy saw his father in the car rider lane his face blazed with excitement. He jumped in his dad’s car and they headed to his guitar lesson. The lesson was at 3:30 and they should arrive home by 4:30 to enjoy the rest of the day together.

Across town Mr. Hanks, his wife and their two dogs live in the country on an old farm. This farm was now the home of his business The Waste Management and Treatment Company. The business was growing and Mr. Hanks was now running it alone since his son had passed away.

On this same afternoon, Tina was home preparing for a quick afternoon photo shoot. Her son is a musically gifted ten year-old and he's enrolled in music classes after school. Let me rephrase that, he is in six after school music programs and plays five different instruments. Today was his guitar lesson and prior to her husband coming home, their son would have had to miss the lesson. Tina left the house about 4:20 for her on location photo shoot missing her husband and son’s arrival.

After the guitar lesson Mr. Rhodes and his son headed home. They’re only minutes away from home as Stairway To Heaven by Led Zeppelin fills the car. His son explains that this is the new awesome song he started playing today.

Mr. Hanks had to go into town to pick up his wife's medications and to stop to see his employees. The end of the work day was approaching and his customer wanted their water turned on and the pharmacy would soon close. He left in the red Ford 350 pickup truck, carrying some extra equipment for the crew. It was already 4:20 in the afternoon as he drove nearing his next turn. His employee phones and gives him a quick update on his customer’s dissatisfaction and prepares Mr. Hanks for their encounter.

Tina makes her way down the winding country road headed into town. Only about a mile left until she will turn and head north of town. In an instant, she saw a large red pickup truck approaching a stop sign, but knew he wasn’t prepared to stop. The red truck, Mr. Hanks, balanced his truck on two wheels trying not to hit Tina. Mr. Hanks’s truck twisted into Tina’s lane cutting her off. His truck forced her out of her lane and into the lane with oncoming traffic. She held tightly to the wheel, breaking, while the red pickup truck was still at her right door. Looking forward, Tina noticed the oncoming car. She braked harder and swerved back into her lane while Mr. Hanks had sped ahead, allowing Tina to swerve back into her lane just missing his tail gate and the oncoming car. Her heart pounded, it raced, and it felt as if it stopped. It wasn't only the red truck that made her heart skip beats, it was the car headed straight towards her. Her eyes met, face to face making her very aware that the near head on collision was with her husband and son. Their faces showed expressions of horror, pure shock, and alarm. Their faces images flashed at her, as she pulled over to catch her breath. There was no sign of the red truck that sped away and no visible trace of a near accident. Still parked, her phone rang, she answered it. It was the sweet sound of her husband and son.

2011 Winter Storm

2011-01-18T09:35:00.005-08:00

Our English Golden

jumps for joy

in six + inches of powder snow

...

in Georgia!

Add As Friend - Follow Me

2011-01-18T09:10:00.001-08:00

Approximately eight years ago, I was introduced to social networking. My Space and Facebook took our schools and our teens by storm. Our teenagers and our preteens were sucked into their computers checking status updates and “friending” everyone they knew and meeting online people who became their “friends”.

My son and I were surfing around Facebook, reading some newly posted status and uploaded pictures. We clicked through the images of his classmates, laughing at fun pictures of embarrassing moments caught on camera. One more click and total silence flooded the room. My son, stood up and walked away embarrassed. I was left with the images, as they burned into my brain.

Uncertain about telling the girl’s mother about the pictures, but at the same time assuming her parents knew nothing about them, I decided it was necessary to snitch. As a parent I would like to know if my teen, or pre-teen, posted pictures on the world wide web that may incriminate or expel them from school. Approaching the mom was awkward, but necessary. I found out that the mom knew about the pictures, in short, she told me, “to fuck off.” She informed me it was only an empty bottle of Jack Daniels and her seventh grade daughter was just having some fun. Wow! .... Wow! Her final words to me, “mind your own fucking business.” What an introduction to social networking and the ignorance of parenting. Lesson taught!

The irresponsible youth, and the ill-advised or uncaring parents can ultimately destroy lives. Knowing how to "work" the social networking products is what makes them amazing. Be aware, universities and future employers can peek at their future students and employees social networking pages, or “walls”. This helps the secondary schools, universities, and the corporations decide who they want representing their institution. Don't let that little lock symbol and little privacy button fool you. They can view your "Friends Only" accounts.

If adults can get "slammed" on social networking sites, think of the devastation it can have on young teens. Facebook has an age minimum requirement of thirteen, however I have FB "friends" that are younger. Twelve year-olds are updating their “single” and “in a relationship” status every day. The next post is a new updated profile picture of them kissing their new significant “in a relationship” partner. I’m curious wondering if any of the parents are monitoring these updates. Don't get me wrong, I love social networking. My Facebook "friends" and my Twitter follower’s rock! Eight years ago my kids who "let me" peek at their friend’s “walls.” Now I have my own account and my kids were crazy enough to accept me as their “friend.” I don't snoop or “stalk” walls, but I do enjoy commenting on updates on my News Feed, this helps me stay connected to my Facebook "Friends". I use Twitter because I love to read and learn from all of the tweets. I don't have a lot of personal contacts on Twitter, but I do love reading tweets, especially inspirational quotes, and I could spend hours checking out people's blogs if I had the time.

So, add me as friend or follow me on Twitter. I encourage positive tweets and status updates, whinnying comes with it, but people in this world need encouragement, inspiration, reinforcement and as well as well wishes. I urge you to share optimism, it can go along way!

A Big Thank You from Clyde

2011-01-17T14:36:00.003-08:00

After the snow storm of the century and battling a bad case of Bronchitis, I finally made it down to the barn to clean some extremely dirty horse stalls. Taking several breaks because of my wheezing and tightening of my lungs, I watched my horse Clyde eat his Purina Equine Senior feed. He has never liked people watching him eat. So he showed me his dissatisfaction by pinning his ears and taking a fierce bite out of the pellets to show me he’s perturbed. I giggled and continued with my chores.

Several trips were taken down the hill carrying several large buckets of manure and when I arrived back at the stripped stall Clyde met me at the door with his ears forward. He slowly looked back over his shoulder, as if pointing at his clean stall, then faced me again. He inched forward towards me and nuzzled his muzzle up to my face as if to kiss me. I gently kissed his nose and said, “You are very welcome.” Then he found his way back to his feed bucket and finished his breakfast.

A horse whisper I am not. But I am one hundred percent sure that Clyde thanked me! Body language is everything, in human or animals, if people would just take a moment and observe. The heartfelt appreciation I felt from Clyde was undeniable.

Our pets give unconditional love. Our mood or our actions could be at fault, but still forgives and love is returned. And it's immediate, with no questions asked, no stipulations, simply wholehearted love is given. Most people are not capable of unconditional love, so humans yearn for absolute devotion. I believe we adopt our beloved pets to attain these feelings.

Life Lessons

2011-01-16T14:36:00.003-08:00

“We can draw lessons from the past, but we cannot live in it” ~ Lyndon Johnson

In life, everyday there are lessons learned. If you evaluate each lesson, you can hope for improvement as a person. Realizing the experience is a mechanism, it will allow you to engage in a life with rewards. If you ignore them, your life lessons, it could possibly cause stupidity and ignorance. Wouldn’t you want to embrace your failures and succeed, rather than settle for mediocrity?

When is the time to reflect and time to acknowledge life lessons? I will use myself as an example. I’m one of the hardest headed, stubborn people I know. Lessons learned had to be walloped across my head before I realized the lesson being taught. Yes, now is the time to reflect and realize that your everyday occurrences are your life lessons. Take what you can, digest it but make the experience your own! Two or more people can share an experience however they’ll end with different synopses. Embrace each lesson because it’s so easy to let them slip by.

Lessons of Lies and Truths! I learned early in life that keeping track of lies, impossible and too complicated, so telling the Truth prevails! Another lessons learned, another experience taken. Why do so many people lie? Are people too ignorant to see that they are ultimately teaching their kids to lie? A lie told, is a disappointment for all.

We can recall the bumps in the road, or the walls we hit, and the trials and tribulations of our youth. Recently my youth’s actions were slammed in my face like a ten pound snowball being thrown by a major league pitcher. As a youngster, I was a shy, extremely reserved, and I had very little confidence. Then I was tossed into the ring, a real show ring, there I was trained as well as the horses I rode. My instructor was world renowned and under her instruction I won multiple championship titles. Being a champion, did that caused an uprising of a teenage monster? I started questioning myself, and my actions of my past. Was I a little teenage bitch? I was quiet, very competitive, and was disliked by other competitors because I 'cleaned house' most every time I entered the show ring. So was I, you know, a bitch? I was the type of person who practiced continuously, most of my teenage life I put aside, to excel and be my best at riding horses. My trainer empowered me and my competitive nature and talent did the rest. My twelve year old niece came to live with us six months ago and I found myself saying these words; "You may be the princess but I am the queen." The equestrian lessons I learned, priceless! My social behavior, maybe in question, however my recollections of the countless lessons are invaluable, inside and outside of the show ring.

Today’s challenge would be to convince my niece not to take the hard road, and to avoid brick walls. Passing on my life lessons, tools that will help her succeed and vault her into becoming the wonderful young lady that she has the potential to be. Using life lessons to help someone else, seems nearly impossible. Some things you simply have to learn for yourself. Sometimes you just have to learn from hitting your walls.

A new life challenge seems impossible since teenagers seem to have it all under control. Here are a few quotes I’ve collected: “You don’t understand” followed by “but it won’t happen to me” and then the final and my least favorite teenage quote “I know!” Teenage boys, almost a piece of cake, but teenage girls are a whole other cake recipe all together. Angel Food Cake vs. Devil’s Food Cake

"Develop success from failures." ~ Dale Carnegie

The last thing we want is for our children to fail. We can guide them, teach them, but they need their own hills to climb and even tumble down. We can only pick them up, dust them off and let them continue on their own life journey. As we sit, hoping and praying, that they succeed.

Write What I Know!

2011-01-15T14:23:00.001-08:00

Sitting and watching middle school basketball games is my Saturday activity, now that I'm guardian of my twelve year old niece. Every game this season, I sat on the cold hard bleachers cheering for her, while she cheers for her team. I sat and observe people, parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles and friends, who attended the game. It's been years since I sat and watched a middle school basketball game. My oldest son played basketball through his senior year of high school and even considered playing at the University of Central Florida. I would have loved to see that since right now UCF has a 12-0 season record, but I regress, back to middle school basketball games.

Game after game, I've been listening to parents fuss at the referees. The shouting escalates to screaming. Soon parents start yelling at coaches and then yelling in the direction of the players. I'm wondering if anyone takes into consideration that the players are only twelve to fifteen years old. It is inconceivable that parents are screaming at the kids!

I have watched parents actually stop the coach before the locker room, both at half time and after the games. I assume the parents are complaining about the coaching or that their kid was not getting enough playing time. I assume this because of the parent’s body language. However, it’s not only the parent’s bad manners I am observing. After attending every middle school game this season I witnessed the opposing cheerleaders cheer "Miss It" while my niece’s middle school team attempts free throws. Really! Is this acceptable behavior? Is it the parenting or coaching?

I know that sports have changed. It’s simply; terrible sportsmanship that I observed. Our society IS what we teach! And that is What I Know!

Good Day at The Bay!

2010-04-09T04:16:00.002-07:00

Life's Journey may take you around the world

Or just around your very own back yard

But no matter where it takes you

Keep your eyes wide open

See the little things, not just the big

Smell the air - the good and the bad

Listen for the crickets,

The laughter of the children

Trains and traffic jams

Taste what nature has given

Touch the soft peddles of a rose

Never forget their sharp thorns

Life's Journey - lived every moment

Is living a Good Day!

Endowment Visions

2010-04-07T18:53:00.014-07:00

Eagerly swinging legs, back and forth under the bleachers, eyes fixed, intensely watching the game. His round copper eyes lit-up when the coach approached him to ask if he wanted to join his big brother’s team. Skills learned and respect earned early in Brody’s life. Realizing this is one special place, where a young enthusiastic child can learn to play soccer, baseball and basketball. However growing older he recognized that it was more than sports he was learning at the YMCA. Family involvement and volunteering, Brody didn’t see it as “work” or “volunteering” he simply saw it as the “thing to do” and “the place to be.” His jobs were as simple as picking rocks up from the soccer field and trash after tournaments, simple but he knew these jobs would be appreciated.

Experience, talent and hard work earned Brody a starting position, his freshman year, on his high school varsity soccer team. A winning season, a letter earned and hopes for the next three years came crashing down when suddenly becoming ill, escaping sudden cardiac arrest. The diagnosis was Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, the leading cause of sudden cardiac death in young athletes. The painful news was delivered to Brody; “No more playing sports.”

The YMCA staff and crew called on Brody to put his experience to work. They asked if he would help coach a young soccer team. Worried about his health, but wanted to be back on the field, volunteering was the most he could do. As his mother, looking back on this opportunity, it was the boost he needed. Brody was stripped of his life, how he knew it, and the Y gave back his courage.

“If everyone plays, everyone wins” ~ Coach Brody.

He was a soft spoken coach, smiling back at every player, encouraging them to simply kick the ball, run around, make friends and have fun. Most of his teams were under six years old!

Brody volunteered an average of 50 hours a year, giving whatever his health, school work and his commitment to playing classical piano would allow. Brody is graduating top four in his class despite missing dozens of school days sick and undergoing heart surgery at age sixteen.

Imaging Brody without the positive support of our YMCA is dreadful. Brody is a product of the Y and what a YMCA can do. They trained, encouraged and supported him. The outcome: A motivated, caring, giving, respectful, and strong kid!

Brody is days away from graduating from high school and is already trying to establish a YMCA Endowment fund. This endowment would be a scholarship type award to be given to a local YMCA member and high school junior or senior. They must be nominated by a “in good standings” member of the Rome Floyd Co. YMCA. The purpose is to acknowledge local high school students, YMCA youth members and who exemplify the YMCA core values of caring, honesty, respect and responsibility. The nominator must submit a two to three page nomination letter showing specific examples of how the student exemplifies each Y core value. Winners will be awarded (a percentage of the Endowment fund) for the student to purchase books at college or a year membership at the YMCA. Other details are yet to be determined by Brody.

Remembering that little boy swinging his legs eagerly on the bench and now looking into those copper colored eyes and seeing his vision of giving back … A true testament of what the YMCA can do for you!

Give it the One-Two Punch!

2010-04-05T18:38:00.007-07:00

Just when you thought no one knew,

no one remembered or no one cared

...

You find that one little token,

one little thought

...

somebody remembered,

someone cared!

A bag was placed around the Darlington School's Silver Lake

in Honor of

...

Let's take-out Cancer,

Beat it...

Fight it with everything we have!

Rocker Zane Got Milk

2010-04-05T18:33:00.001-07:00

GOT MILK?

The Late Night Encounter with the Easter Bunny

2010-04-04T10:45:00.004-07:00

Working late on Easter eve, I was immovable, one with my chair, at the computer with images dancing in my mind, visualizing my head on my pillow in my soft warm bed. This mental picture took over my every thought. Forcing my eye lids open, they felt heavy like boulders making it extremely difficult to focus on the computer monitor. Even my dog gave up and was snoring at my feet. Too tired to think clear, I turned the volume up on my iTunes and rocked onward. Music stimulation wasn’t enough so I decided for a cup of hot tea.

Much like a sleep walk, making my way to the kitchen, I felt something under my feet. Sticky and warm I found myself rubbing my foot off against my leg then I continued a few steps into the dark kitchen, when I stepped in more. My curiosity was rising. My first thought, what did the boys drop? I reached for the light switch, the lights flickered, energy saver bulbs start up slow, my tired eyes relieved, even thankful as I focused in on the little soft pebbles. Still stuck on the bottom of my feet the warmth of what? I caught at a glimpse at bright yellow Easter egg that was settled against the baseboard with several more lined up after that, questions now scrambled within. The room eliminating more, I shook my foot, while recognizing that I had stepped in Bunny Poop! Sleep Walking! I must be in a deep deep sleep. Switching off the light, I wondered directly to my cozy bed. Dreaming of Bunnies, Easter egg hunts & bunny poop!

This Pilot's Packing

2010-03-27T19:25:00.002-07:00

Recently I read a Blog listing tips for traveling successfully. Being a pilot’s wife, one would think I had traveling down to a science. No I don’t, but I believe my pilot husband does! Funny how people assume the spouse knows the details of the occupation held by their partner. When I travel, I typically travel for leisure which involves traveling with children … alone!

The first tip: Enjoy the journey to the destination as much as you will enjoy the destination itself.

This author apparently is not traveling with kids! Packing games, books, computers, iPods, Game Boys, DS’s, the list goes on … trying to occupy and help distract them from the fact they are sitting, touching one another, in a closed “container” for hours and hours. “You are in my space” will come out, not like adults, kids do not hold back! If the plane happens to have the TV built into the seat in front of them – I just want to say sorry in advance to the poor souls sitting in that seat - the games are touch screen, need I say more? But the plane ride is not the most stressful part of the journey. It is in-fact passing through SECURITY.

Problem #1 Security insists that everyone hold their own boarding pass. The likely hood getting through the whole security process and the child still possessing his or her boarding pass is simply mind blowing.

Problem #2 A parent’s eyes must travel from one kid to the next, keeping our possessions guarded, and taking shoes off, grabbing enough bins for shoes, computers, games and junk while the people behind start grabbing bins and start trying to pass us, while frustrations sets in. Scrambling to find the little bag of “liquids” and place it in the bin. If you fail to do this you might be “stripped searched” on the other side!

Problem #3 To add this to the mix; one of my children has a Medtronic Reveal “device” in his chest. OK first never, EVER call it a device in an airport! He must hold his Medtronic Card along with his boarding pass and enter a whole new line by himself. While I can see, but cannot hear, the security guards talking to him, they point to the back of our line and try to dismiss him. He holds his Pacemaker card up higher and then he receives strange looks as they finally read the card and take him past the line of scanners and continue to the area for a complete search.

Problem #4 This is the point where timing is everything. The plan is to get through the metal detector scanners at the same time my son does with his “Pacemaker”. I don’t like one of my children, being frisked and patted down while I am preoccupied with rustling two other children, our stuff, shoes, boarding passes and then repacking back packs. My eyes continue traveling from each child, now in two locations. TSI people questioning computers, lotion baggies, location of boarding passes and they want to see my ID again! While hearing, “Mom, he just cut. Mom they are cutting line. Mommmmm”

Problem #5 The lacking of total patience, may cause extra attention. Now that I must look like I want to slap the Security person, they decide to hand search our bags. Directing us over to another table, we now have items spread all over like a yard sale; while continuing to gather shoes, computers, baggies, cell phones, back packs and yelling instructions to the kids. Now the questions come from the TSA man that I just can’t believe: “Why do you have two computers, an extra backpack and two baggies of ‘liquids’?” Annoyed I snapped, “YOU have my third child, pointing over my shoulder, I have his things!”

Problem #6 This process took so many security guards away from their command post … my question would be: Did that cause or permit a “bad guy” to pass by security?

Lately I traveled alone for the first time in … oh maybe 21 years. I have to agree that I tried to enjoy the journey to my destination as much as I could. Even though I hate sitting for fourteen hours, I met some really neat people, read, listened to uninterrupted music, watched a movie and took a cat nap or two, taking advantage of my time alone. Besides my butt being incredibly sore the journey was, I guess I could say, enjoyable. Passing security was certainly a breeze childless. However, while going through the process I was able to observe some very interesting procedures. Because the fact that my husband is a pilot I couldn’t help but notice the airline pilots being scanned by security. They were showing their badges, bags being inspected and even opened then searched. What could the pilots be carrying or sneaking on the plane? What struck me is when I noticed one of the captains being searched. He was padded down and then the security guard used his wand and waved it over every inch of his body. As the pilot held out his arms I noticed he was packing. So really, what was the security guard looking for if the pilot was carrying a gun? Would a wand really find something worse than a gun? Will they take his razor away if they find one in his bag? A pilot – they are tested, licensed, certified, researched – but what do I know, I’m just the wife of one! However, my common sense was still fighting with this patting down and wand search of this captain which he is obviously licensed to carry a gun. In my opinion wasn’t his biggest weapon, the actual plane itself? Wondering what TSA’s guidelines could possibly say that they needed to wand a certified licensed pilot carrying a registered gun?

Next Tip – Leave your “comfort” Zone at home …

Thank God He Rocks!

2010-03-26T19:17:00.005-07:00

Thank God he Rocks!

His heart might not tick-tock like ours ...

It's possibly larger than others his age ...

I say - it has to be ... It's tip-top full!

With every thump, with every pump

A river of notes streams through every vein

In this child's body holds music to our ears.

Thank God he Rocks!

Hawaii 2010

2010-03-25T08:51:00.003-07:00

Bolting off with a minutes notice I found myself on a plane to the big island of Hawaii. A teaching photo shoot at a beautiful location - I couldn't resist!

My student became ill and I found myself alone with no car for excursions and no money to join any tours. So I decided to walk! Walking for miles, hours to explore my surroundings. Finding myself window shopping at every local art shop and booth in Kona. Meeting local artists and loving their work. Now refreshed and reflecting on the islands beauty.

Good for the soul, the heart and the mind! Aloha

Our Gift

2010-03-04T18:12:00.005-08:00

Tears in our eyes

But songs in our hearts - forever.

Because of you - beautiful music fills our house

& brings us so much joy.

Everyone who has heard your students know -

Truly YOU were the GIFT.

You have changed our lives,

Enriched & touched our souls with music and friendship.

Thank you - We Love You - We will miss you.

I smile because I know -

you are playing for Him now.

Enjoy, we will be listening!

A Place I Call Home

2010-03-03T17:53:00.003-08:00

A place I call home –

The seven mountains roll and three rivers run

Hundreds of church bells ring.

History runs deep – into the deep deep South

In a place I call home –

Never have I seen the snow cover my backyard

A dusting or a frightful freeze

And only Black Ice haunts our winding roads

On the way to the place I call home –

Iridescent

Breathtaking

Brilliance

Covering the place I call home

From Sand to Grass

2010-02-07T14:27:00.007-08:00

Focusing on a cheap statue of a strange horse with very long ears, I began to sink deeper into the car’s seat. Missing my old school, friends, palm trees and the sun shining. We left the surf, surfers and beach bunnies for farmer boys and ‘not so many’ Daisy Dukes. Wishing I didn’t have to get out of bed today. Starring back at me in the mirror, a dude so out of place, I flipped my blonde hair out of my eyes and made my way down the cold dark hall looking for my locker. Feeling eyes following my every move. It was easy to realize, I’m different. The guys looked as if they have been taking steroids since birth and wore old t-shirts with GA Bulldog Football decals. I wore my regular everyday surf shorts, flip flops, button down shirt and guitar pick necklace. Girls glanced and giggled, guys starred and growled as I let my hair slightly fall back over my eyes. Recognizing that, this surfer dude has been left on the beach without a board.

Now at Butts County Middle School, next year … Butts High? My old friends can never know! I will have to change my Twitter name, never ‘friend’ anyone here, the fear that someone would post “Go Butt High” on my Facebook wall. Who was allowed to name this county after the Butts family and who was the moron who made the mascot a Jack Ass? How many jokes can one take, unfortunately I will find out! My new Facebook status will have to read: Just sitting on my Ass, in Butts County. Or my last Tweet on Twitter will read: Get off my Ass I’m stuck in Butts County. They will be climbing all over my ass with jokes.

To Read More: Please send a request

Little Rocker Zane

2010-02-05T21:21:00.004-08:00

Little Rocker Zane

@RockerZane

When you tell a young child they can do anything …

Adding heart, dedication, passion,

and mix in tons of practice and patience …

Their dreams might come true …

Well, they believe you.

Dare to dream!

Dear Journal ... I'm Having one of those days

2010-01-31T15:28:00.004-08:00

Dear Journal,

Today was like no other day in my life. Still dreaming of all the wonderful events this day would bring. Waking up I noticed the sun starting to beam through the draperies and the rays began to bounce off all my Byer horses around my room. In bed I was covered with stuffed animals and sleeping at my side, my best friend Honey Bear, my cat. I stared at the ceiling, smiled as I bounced out of bed and thought - what a wonderful day.

Hearing the truck drive up to the barn, I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. Then grabbed my boots and in such a rush I put them on the wrong feet. I could hear the truck doors slam so I hurried not to miss a thing. I was feeling the discomfort of my boots. The pain! I had to stop, kicking them off just to put them on again, wrong. I wanted to see the new horse! Arriving at the trailer I noticed it was empty. It was probably my brother’s motorcycle.

It was supposed to be such a marvelous, magical and excellent day. Now that I think about it … this isn’t such a great day after all. Not one person, not even my mother has wished me a happy birthday.

I stood for a minute and no one noticed me. I looked at the back of the trailer, saw nothing. Even though I’m height challenged, I could always see the horse’s butt and there wasn’t a butt or a tail. It was then that I decided to go on to the barn. I headed to the barn, found some rocks to kick on the way as I 'slugged' down the hill.

Dad started yelling for me to help him. I couldn’t figure out why he needed my help. He said he needed help getting the goat off the trailer. I hadn’t heard a goat cry. Maybe it was a little baby goat, kid. I trotted back up the hill. That is when I noticed he wasn’t leading a goat off the trailer.

I was stunned and confused. My mouth dropped open, speechless; I couldn’t utter … not one word. In shock I stood staring, slowly I looked up at my dad and then a quick glance at mom. They were gleaming. I went forward a few steps and stopped. Then they asked me if I would like to keep her for my very own!

The most beautiful Shetland pony I had ever seen. She was mine to keep. All mine! This ... The greatest birthday ever!

Photo By RuthAnne Anderson

2010-01-28T09:46:00.002-08:00

A PEACE of Mind

2010-01-28T09:31:00.002-08:00

Fourteen year-old freshman collapses and nears death for no apparent reason after completing his first season on the varsity soccer team. Healthy, strong and young didn’t fit what was happening. A split second, as the world spun fast and time stood still while Brody flirted with fatality.

What if I wasn’t with him? What if I didn’t witness this episode? The “what if’s” will always haunt me. Brody was diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (HCM) and later had heart surgery. His appearance is no different than any other teenage boy. No one would know he has a medical issue, that HCM is the leading cause of cardiac sudden death in young people. Now driving increases concern to the equation. Stressed, worried sick about his safety I turned to the internet and found American Medical ID and ordered one for Brody. Wearing the American Medical ID bracelet I have the peace of mind that the proper medical attention will be attained promptly.

www.americanmedical-id.com

Clyde The Peppermint Snatcher (Part 5)

2010-01-28T06:49:00.004-08:00

Familiar voices! Zoe and Zane wondering, “What’s in the trailer?” I backed out slowly. They screeched and cheered, bouncing and dancing, and embrace my leg. My heart sang. Could this be my new home?

Clyde The Peppermint Snatcher (Part 4)

2010-01-28T06:45:00.003-08:00

English, jumping, and western were effortless jobs. Traveling by trailer, munching hay, watching the sights, trucks were loud, smelly, and scary. Tall buildings, like needles, reached the sky. The city was noisy, smelly, but never dull, especially flashing lights and loud siren sounds.

No owner for me. I tried different riders every day. One lost her balance and flip flopped as she plopped to the ground. With an unforgiving jerk, in slow motion she hit the dirt. A sudden pinch under my chin, I leapt away stopping to stare. A girl, face down gasping for air as she started to cry. A muddy river of tears slid slowly into her mouth. Understand arena dirt elements include nasty old shavings, filthy dark dirt and lots of well … poop!

Missing Alisa

2010-01-27T18:02:00.001-08:00

Missing Alisa

Written in memory of my dear high school friend Alisa, who was killed by a drunk driver.

The class bell rings

People shuffling to class

Not like yesterday

Not like any other day

Silence and silent stares

A wave of motion

Feeling still

Feeling ill

Don’t dare look

Into another’s eyes

Just look down

Travel forward

Praying, wishing

We could go back to yesterday

Yesterday Yesterday

Yearning for yesterday

The class bell rings

Chitter chatter

Running to make class,

Grabbing the seat alongside my best friend

Smiling, laughing

Passing notes

Classes flew

Hall conversations, a mess

Making plans for the day

Weekend plans to come

Smiling laughing

Prom plans are set

Dresses fit

The prom to remember

Remember forever …

Yesterday can’t come

Today we are numb

The class bell rings

I don’t look

The empty seat nearby

Yesterday

Occupied and engaged

Her giggles, her smile, her friendship

Today is silent

Forever silent

Alisa … Alisa

Alisa, No more

Clyde The Peppermint Snatcher (Part 3)

2010-01-26T08:26:00.002-08:00

Creeping, sneaking, I slipped into the tack room. Peeking, seeing rows of saddles, layers of bridles, and things never seen before. Locating a large tub of peppermints, Wow! Hundreds of wonderful smelling candies! I inched, I stretched. The tub was out of reach.

Grasping it with my lips, dragging it closer, peppermints! Twenty mints bunched in my mouth when a deep, familiar voice barked, "CLYDE!"

Bummer, I’m caught!

Clyde The Peppermint Snatcher (Part 2)

2010-01-26T07:58:00.008-08:00

Missing my mom, I caught a glimpse of her today.

With new daily routines and schooling, I was too tired to complain.

Helen was gentle as she put my halter on.

Hesitant, I learned to lead, stand, and the word "treat"!

Treat means Peppermints! Standing fully saddled, I heard a candy wrapper crinkling.

What a test, a tease for me. Can I have that peppermint, please?

Little visitors giggling and wiggling on my fence.

Bravely I smelled one, tasted the other.

Zane tasted like dirt and Zoe was like a flower. Nuzzling my nose up one leg and smelling down the other. I tossed my head, kicked, bucked, snorted, and sniffed the air. My company yelled a big “Yee Haw” as they trotted away.

Clyde The Peppermint Snatcher (Part 1)

2010-01-25T06:51:00.003-08:00

Quivering with cold, paralyzed with fright, I couldn’t open my eyes. If I peeked, would it be terrifying or safe?

Mom nudged me to stand. I wobbled, stumbled, jerked. She wasn’t going to leave me alone, until I stood, so I stood! I simply locked my legs. Wow, I’m standing all by myself!

Playing hide n’seek we were taken aback, whinnying with fear. The alarmed squirrel’s eyes popped out as he trembled, screeched, and leapt into mid air. Grabbing the tree, he scampered up quicker than any Super Hero. Laughing hard, we staggered and stumbled.

Water moved, bubbled and splashed. Little critters hopped and jumped, surprising me. I snorted and shivered. Beady little eyes looked my way. I took on the water, head to head. I’m not afraid.

Tag with friends but Keep-away is my favorite! Stealing a long blade of grass, ducking down, and spinning around, no one could ever get mine. I am too fast!

The Ball

2010-01-24T15:31:00.001-08:00

The soccer fields, the players, the coach, the team and the fans are missing something.

Out in the back yard sits a familiar round shape, a well-known ball. It now sits alone about forty feet from where my brothers and I kicked that ball to score thousands of goals, in thousands of games and played thousands of games. We taught one another how to be better soccer players, better sportsmen and developed our passion for the game. But today the ball just sits lonely, waiting for the three of us to give it another swift kick.

Bright Red, white and black bright colors shinning in the sun. As the day passes each color seems to shine brighter as the balls shadow slowly moves around from right to left until fading, once more into the darkness of night.

I haven’t dared go out and kick that ball. We don’t talk about that ball. As we see that ball somehow making its way, traveling away from our house, being pelted by the rain and pushed by the wind it moves further away.

It is cold outside. The leaves on the trees have turned colors. It looks as if the ball has moved towards the trees. I am still not brave enough to go kick that ball. As it sits today, closer to the bright red, green, gold and yellow covered trees, I can see the ball has changed. It is not the bright red it once was.

Snow has covered the once brilliant colored, lively, bouncy soccer ball. It lays at the edge of the trees, one hundred yards away. It had traveled the distance of a large soccer field it traveled, it rolled as if it was shrugging its shoulders, wondering why we left it. Hanging its head low, deflating its big round self into a smaller size as it made its lonely way, across the empty soccer field, rolling slowly away, slowly to hide.

My first steps were taken just to go kick a soccer ball. So it seemed natural for me to follow both my brother’s footsteps and play year-around soccer. Cody and Brody would pass a ball with me before I could even stand. Then as I learned to walk, and run they taught me everything they knew.

Shouting, cheering, we heard the loud roar from the crowd. Brody knocked the ball forward, dribbling up the side of the field, looking up for his next move. He sees Cody open and makes the pass. Cody is tall, fast and gifted with strength and power. Runs over anyone in his way keeping the ball at his feet, for no fouls are called. Cody sees me open, passes it right to my feet. I touch it at the perfect angle, tapping it past the goalkeeper, and scoring the winning goal! Brody and Cody race towards me with hands in the air cheering and yelling my name. Nothing could be sweeter that the three of us playing soccer in our back yard!

Cody and Brody are much older than me. They are on traveling soccer teams and on the high school varsity team. Cody, the oldest, is tall like the trees. I heard one of his teammates say that he never liked running into Cody because it was like hitting a brick wall. Brody is much shorter, but has skills that make everyone go ahhhh. Don’t tell him I told you this but I believed he had magic in his cleats. I still don’t understand how he moved the ball around so smoothly while bolting across the field.

It only took a moment for all things to change.

Lively, full of air the ball bounced with excitement as the three of us played soccer in our back yard. Bright with color, always joyful, taken outside to play and inside after games, drills, and practices. Even dried off after playing in the rain or wet from the dew of the night air, the ball was kept like a prized possession, and always shining like a dazzling trophy, that ball seemed to be alive.

No one wanted to talk about the Ball. No one admitted they looked at the ball. It was a glance, and then silence. The three of us felt as empty as that old discarded ball.

One day, like every other day, the ball came to its resting place. Our world stopped, we heard no cheers, no juggling, or balls hitting the back of the net. The Ball Dropped still, as my brother Brody was taken to the hospital.

Brody never laid eyes on his soccer ball again. He had hate, anger and fear inside of him. The ball would not understand that Brody could never play sports again because of his bad heart. I call it HCM. I learned to say it. It took some practice - Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy. Some kids do die from it, we are so lucky Brody is fine. I might get it, but I know I’ll be alright. Brody has showed me how to be strong and brave.

We went down to the trees and found that old tattered ball one day. The happy memories we had, didn’t fade as much as the colors on our lost soccer ball. We picked it up together, cleaned it and now it sits … maybe watching or listening to the music we play together. Cody sings and plays keyboard, Brody rocks on piano and I have picked up both drums and guitar. Filling the house with laugher, joy and lots of music I know that raggedy old faded ball, sitting on the edge of the piano, is bouncing to the beat to the music.

FRIENDS

2010-01-23T06:55:00.004-08:00

Friends

Sharing secrets

Dreaming dreams

Talks of guys

Devising schemes

Shopping together

Trying on clothes

What we’ll buy

No one knows!

Going to school

Roaming the halls,

staring at guys

Bumping into walls

Weekends together

Spending the night,

Parties to go to

To find “Mr. Right”

Best Friends always

There to care

Passing notes

Secrets to share

Written years ago - about my best friend - I will treasure forever

Turning Back the Clock

2010-01-22T20:18:00.017-08:00

Making the most of dealing with skin cancer, I am having a little fun with skin product experiments. Exhibiting new scars on my face, neck and ears, I made myself a walking “lab rat” for products that claim to work miracles. Trying to turn back the clock and take away some of the abuse and neglect I have caused my skin. The past six months I have researched and tested thousands of dollars worth of skin care products. Here are the first of my personal reviews on products that were first recommended to me:

StriVectin®

StriVectin-SD® & StriVectin-SD Eye Cream

Pricey but has WOW - Diminishes fine lines

Within two weeks of using the StriVectin eye cream I saw fewer lines around my eyes. My foundation and/or powder didn't clump in any way in the small lines or creases that remain around my eye area. I saw change, a more youthful look, after using this product for about a week. The first week I applied the SD formula to the back of one hand. This past summer I had an accident scaring about 1/3 of my hand. In just a week the SD formula faded the scar some but what I did notice remarkably, was my left hand appeared to be five years younger looking next to my right hand. The wrinkles were disappearing! I started applying the SD formula all over my face and hands after that!

Bare Escentuals - San Francisco

RareMinerals™ Blemish Therapy

Heals Conceals Plus - Gentle formula

Blemish Therapy takes away any oily looking spots or areas. Best if used after applying moisturizer (I like Purely Nourishing Facial Moisturizer together because if feels like your skin can breath - no clogged pore feeling) but before makeup. It does have an odor, but once you apply your powder or concealer the smell goes away and the finished look is well worth the little odor!

RareMinerals™ Renew & Reveal Facial Cleanser

I wish I had this product my whole life! Gently exfoliates and leaves skin feeling fresh but not stripped! It started out very messy, however once I learned to wet my face and hands first, then pour/sprinkle powder into palm of wet hand, mix gently with two fingers, then apply damp powder to face and massage in gently. It will feel somewhat like thick soft powdery paste. It sounds bad but feels wonderful.

RareMinerals™ Purely Nourishing Facial Moisturizer

Soft Skin - Light Weight

This is a wonderful product that really enhances the RareMineral line. It goes on light, no sticky or heavy feeling. In just minutes after applying my face feels smoother and softer.

bareVitamins - Skin Rev-er Upper

Vita Thirsty Skin

When your skin needs a little vitamin booster, this will quench the thirst. I use this at least once a day and after a few days my face felt revived and refreshed.

Buffing Brushes The Essential Collection

Brushes home or on the go

Useful! The container is great. I use both ends keeping my larger and smaller brushes separate. The collection has a good variety of brushes for nice and easy applications.

MD Skincare Dr Dennis Gross

Hydra-Pure Vitamin C Serum

Can’t do without

The first feel of this product is amazing. Knowing I am treating my skin to some well deserved Vita C was a plus but after a few uses I couldn't go without! I can really feel it "feeding" my skin. I feel it is important after applying this product wait a couple/few minutes and then apply moisturizer as well.

The Fight Is On!

2010-01-18T14:18:00.010-08:00

A new fight has entered my life. After battling the diagnosis and treatments of my son’s HCM heart disease, I decided it was time to make my own doctor’s appointment. The one I had missed and then postponed for over a year. That dreadful physical that no one I know wants to waste their time with. I had no idea of the importance of that once-a-year physical until now. I disclosed, to my physician, a scab that was next to my ear, because I kept catching it with my hair brush so it would not heal. After examining the area, I was quickly referred to a skin cancer specialist. You guessed it … the fight is on!

Traveling through several web sites like WebMD and MedicineNet (which are great!) sometimes you can learn a little too much. I had read and heard previously that about 90% of skin cancers are associated with exposure to UV radiation from the sun or tanning beds and approximately two million people are diagnosed with basal cell carcinoma and melanoma every year. But what I didn’t know was that one person dies every hour from melanoma.

I felt queasy sitting in the waiting room thinking of what was to come. Appointment’s were kept weekly, two stage two basal cell carcinoma’s and two stage two melanoma’s were found on my head and neck. My third MOHs surgery was to remove my second melanoma was to be taken. This one was from my neck and each was in a two month time frame. My neck was probably one of the scariest, although every time I go – I am always a bit anxious – but I had just heard of a close friend of an aunt who suffered nerve loss after surgery in the same area of the neck. Lucky to have caught it in stage two but still sick to my stomach, shaking in my shoes, were my only the feelings on the inside. Questioning the surgeon about my neck and he reassured me, surgery took place as scheduled and the healing process began. Scars on the surface can be covered by makeup and treated with vitamin lotions, but removing this cancer, I will fight it and if any new ones that show up they are in for a duel.

Running into my family’s living room my seven year old eyes wild with excitement and my smile lit my face as I saw all of my aunts and uncles filling the seats. A surprise visit! What was the occasion? I didn’t care. I was seven and it looked like Christmas! But what I didn’t know was … my grandmother had just passed away. Cancer had won, she had lost the fight.

My grandmother, several family members and a few dear friends have passed away because of cancer. Now even more close friends are engaged in this fierce battle … Cancer! Fear, sadness and grief over comes me when I recall the day that I was caught by surprise in my family’s living room. At the innocent age of seven when cancer personally became an unspeakable and terrifying word. So the shaking, the apprehension of a “little skin cancer” outpatient surgery still seems to shatter my soul because of the memories and fear of that cancer that lay deep within.

My Biopsy Tests:

First a local anesthetic is injected, and then the doctor performs a deep shave biopsy – the spot is shaved off with a razor blade. Area heals in just a few days and they send off the tissue to a lab for results.

My MOHS Surgery:

I read that the Mohs micrographic surgery has the highest cure rate for basal cell. I never found that positive reinforcement for Melanoma, however I took the advice of my doctors and trust the tests of the lab that results of the last biopsy are cancer free.

Mohs surgeons remove the minimum amount of healthy tissue and totally remove the cancer eliminating all tumor roots. The technique – sections of the tissue that are removed in stages and sent to an onsite lab for slide preparation and study. This process is repeated until no tumor cells remain in the microscopic sections and the area is tumor free. At this point, they reconstruct the tumor site. My surgeon cut a flap of skin from a surrounding area and folds it over the wound. The surgeon then sews the skin in place for a fast recovery with little visible scars.

FYI: The A, B, C, D’s of Melanoma:

A=asymmetry

B=border irregularity,

C=color variability (brown, black, gray, pink)

D=diameter of (often) greater than ¼ inch

A Special thanks to: www.sephora.com

This company has introduced me to the best products to help restore, freshen, enhance and smoothen to create a healthier-looking skin, while protecting my skin from more damage that can happen with everyday living.

A Black Mountain Ride

2010-01-17T10:34:00.007-08:00

Picture: Rancho Santa Fe California RuthAnne 5 years-old with pony Vicky

I was seven years old and my best friend was a Shetland pony named Vicky. She was as tall as I was, at that time I had no idea what hands were other than the two I had. She was red, a shiny sorrel with flaxen mane and tail, and she had a little star on her forehead. Vicky and I were buddies from the moment mom and dad gave her to me. She was led off the trailer and all it took was one look. I was hooked and she seemed to like me as well.

Vicky and I had so many incredible adventures together. We lived way-out side of town and our California farm backed up to Black Mountain. This made it easy for me to just take off and ride for miles and miles without worrying about cars or people. The area was like a scene of an old Wild West movie. I rode Vicky every day. I rode her after school, after church, on my days off, just everyday!

Sometimes Vicky and I would follow my brother to the base of Black Mountain. He would always lose us before we left the farm, he was riding a motorcycle and I was just determined to catch up with him riding Vicky. He was with his friends and I was with mine. Only minutes into the ride and I was transformed into a different person, a different time and a different life. On this ride I was one of the first girl sheriffs in the early 1900’s, and I was chasing bank robbers. I tracked their steps and watched for clues, and in this case I followed the distant roar sounds of my brother’s motorcycle. I went into some wooded areas and always found things left by campers. That day I found a wallet and personal belongings, I didn’t think they were camping for the day it looked as if they had taken up residency. So I took off and cantered up the hill and across two open fields until I found the motor cross track that my brother was riding on. When he made a lap I waved him down. He stopped reluctantly. I told him about the wallet and the things left in the woods. He stopped his friends on their next lap around, and there was no disputing and off they went to the woods. Vicky was never bothered by the loud noise the motorcycles made. But this time I was bothered, because I wanted to be with them when they saw the wallet and all of my discoveries.

I turned Vicky and headed home. We walked, trotted and cantered back to the barn transforming into new characters, singing songs and playing more games. When we got back to the farm I saw my brother talking excitedly to our mother. He had told mom all about the things we saw. My dad and mom went to go check things out. It was private property and they knew things sounded strange.

Vicky and I went back to the barn and I brushed her and groomed her and put her to bed. Taking her to her corral was fun too. I would take her halter or her bridle off and we would race to her corral. I was so lucky she didn’t take off I would have had to chase her down. I never had to worry about that with Vicky she just played along with me. My parents called the police and turned in the trespassers. The wallet had been stolen. Another case solved by the young girl-sheriff. I had so many adventures with Vicky from the mountains in California to the rolling hills of Kentucky. What a treasured gift, what a treasured friend. I hope everyone has had a friend like VICKY.

A Nation Needs Our Help

2010-01-16T12:24:00.014-08:00

Listening to, reading and watching the news today, and the past few days, just tears at my heart. To see and hear about the devastation of Haiti’s earthquake is surreal. The catastrophic magnitude 7.0 earthquake striking only 16 miles from Port-au-Prince Haiti’s capital January 12, 2010.

Several years have passed since I first walked the streets of Cap-Haitien, Haiti. Arriving on our family’s sailboat at Port de Cap-Haitien we walked the streets, saw the sites (Cathedral Notre-Dame of Cap-Haitien, Citadelle La ferrierre) and later traveled by bus to Port-au-Prince to visit the capital and tour the country. I actually don’t remember Port-au-Price that well. What I do remember, as if it were imbedded in my brain forever, is the bus ride, the people of Cap-Haitien and the smells

The local’s of Cap-Haitien watched my every movement. I might not have totally understood why they were staring at me. Was it because I was a young white girl? All the locals were dark skinned, or was it because I had clothes on my back that bright in color and they hadn’t worn from years of being passed down from family members or not being washed with clean water. It could have been my long blond hair that was shiny clean and bounced with my every step. It could have been my skin that was dirt free and smelt like some botanical garden because of the shower and soap I had and used that morning. I hoped and prayed that my facial expressions were well hidden because the stench of the streets made my stomach very queazy. It was hard not to plug my nose or cover it and my mouth with my shirt to help stop the gag reflexes I had from the continued smell’s coming from the streets, the water and the people.

The bus ride was unforgettable. It could have been because it was the oldest bus I had ever seen, or the fact that while traveling across the country we hit every bump with a bang. No working shocks on a bus will cause one to fly into the air and be jolted which caused massive headaches for everyone. By the end of our journey we had sick stomachs from the bus movements and the disgusting odors, aching heads, soaked with sweat from the heat and sore arms and muscles from holding on. What I will never forget however … the gorgeous countryside and ocean views with perfect weather, and the Nations incredible history.

Haiti, now hit by a devastating earthquake which had little to begin with, has nothing – too little left.

I am proud of Americans today as I see friends, family members, famous people, rich people, middle class people, and people who have even suffered loss themselves are giving in some way to help Haiti.

Photo: Haiti Market Place 2008 by RuthAnne Anderson

I Believe In You

2010-01-14T19:21:00.001-08:00

I Believe In You!

You dream big dreams,

Hope for magic stars,

And believe in angles.

You think big thoughts,

Love the unloving,

And believe in all heroes.

You live for you,

Dare to soar,

And risk when most will not.

I say … Continue your dreams,

Follow your magic stars,

Believe in your angels,

Keep thinking big thoughts,

Love the unloving,

Believe in all heroes,

Live for you,

Soar high,

And risk it all!

Follow you heart,

Follow your dreams,

Follow your imagination,

Find the courage it takes,

To believe in yourself,

To believe in your dreams,

My Secret (Don’t tell AnyOne!) ;0 RuthAnne

2009-08-24T07:45:00.005-07:00

NOTHING BUT GREEN AFTER 3:00
(And green Ice cream doesn’t count!)
Note: Food Intake Change, no “diet” word required!
Please don’t say, “I can’t!”
I’m not on the “popular” diet because they use the (of the) phrase “You Can’t!” If I am told (someone tells me), “You can’t have a brownie” … I would make a batch and eat it all myself! How did I survive only eating ‘Green after 3:00?’ By simply knowing “I can” eat the dinner I prepared for the family, for lunch the next day! I don’t hear, “You can’t have dinner.” I hear, “I can eat that for lunch tomorrow!” I enjoy a huge bowl of salad add veggies, lots of green veggies … “I can do this for a new me!” One night at bedtime I was hungry … instead of running to the ice cream I made some steamed broccoli. It didn’t sound great, but I had to eat. It was green... that was the last time I “had to” eat before bed! My head was telling me “I can’t” so I had to prove that I could even at bed time. Fighting “Nothing but Green after 3:00” I made a meal at 2:45! I would make a sandwich and eat it before 3:00! Those were the best sandwiches! However I overcame that obstacle as well.
Calories: Using Iphone Application “lose it”
I have never been big on calorie counting, however the Iphone application “Lose It” appealed. I began inputting every meal exercise mile and minute and it records my habits! Before I found the “Lose It” application I kept a journal of every morsel I put in my mouth. This made me reflect on foods I was consuming and made me accountable. Before that piece of bacon entered my mouth, did I really want to write that down?
It took (6-8 weeks) for my body to accept the change. At 6 weeks and little weight loss, I wanted to quit. I am so thankful now that I didn’t! I believe I had to train my body, and convince, it to trust me again. When it knew I wasn’t going to “starve it” or “stuff it” (diet and then splurge) then my body started letting go of its stored fat.
A typical Day: FOOD!
AM (breakfast)
Yogurt: Low Fat 50 – 110 calories
Fruit: One med. Banana & blueberries or other “berries” if desired
1 Egg: however you want to cook it
Noon(ish)
Ham, turkey or a ham & turkey sandwich
OR chicken salad sandwich
*My favorite lunches are the dinner I cooked the night before that I put aside for myself!
If I cook steak or chicken I cut it up and put it over a salad. This soon became my favorite lunch
2:30: Yes, this lasted for at least 4-6 weeks *especially if I ate the left over dinner or salad with meat
Chicken salad sandwich (light or very little mayo) and lettuce
Or a ham and turkey sandwich *try mustard instead of Mayo or just a touch of Mayo light. Adding lettuce and other veggies is great. I added a little avocado when I learned I couldn’t have avocado after 3:00. I craved it for a while.
Now I only eat lunch. I dropped the 2:30 sandwich, but it is a good idea to eat a snack (fruit or ½ sandwich) around 2:30(ish)
PM (dinner)
Huge whopping salad! I have tried every type of lettuce and now have favorites, but I need change!
Adding small amounts of cucumber, sweet peppers, tomatoes (hey, they were green!)
Dressing: (read labels!) Some light dressings have the same amount of fat or carbs as regular dressing. So remember, it is the quantity! 1-2 tablespoons per large salad. Toss it in a covered bowl with dressing for better coverage and taste.
Veggies: Anything, except starchy greens like green peas. Steamed, cooked, raw whatever you want!
Butter: I only use the Smart Balance Butter for the first … wait, I’m still using it!
I like adding seasoning salt to my veggies as well.
Later PM: You can eat anything green even after all the dishes are done or before you go to bed. Just make sure it is healthy green, not that green ice cream in the freezer!
On the days you have to have CHOCOLATE!
Jell-O Pudding snacks – this 60 calorie snack took the "I HAVE TO HAVE CHOCOLATE OR DIE" feeling away. Not every night, but it is a treat when you are trying so hard and all you can think of is CHOCOLATE!
Don’t forget your proteins, morning and afternoon!
Adding a fiber supplement is beneficial. It is not enough to eat high fiber foods.
Exercise: “I would feel starved if I didn’t exercise! Burning 200 calories on a walk allows me to eat more!”
The more I want to eat … the more I exercise, so I can eat a little more. Then I’m so tired I don’t want to eat. I know I had an issue of thinking I was extra hungry for a few weeks, but I convinced myself I could eat at night and it was ok to snack or eat at 2:30 and or midnight. My mind actually stopped thinking hunger and I didn’t need that late PM snack.
After Food Intake Change, at 4-8 weeks I added short walks 4-6 days a week (3+casual miles with puppy)
At 8 weeks added bike riding (3-5 miles) one-two times a week
At 8 weeks only 5 pound loss *if I had added exercise I THINK I would have lost more earlier but knowing ME, adding exercise I would want to eat more
Month 4 only about a 10 pound loss but several inches had slid off! * I had to purchase new clothes for Dar Graduation, 14/16 to a 10! *** Strange, but no one really noticed!
Month 5 I exercised six days per week, walking 5 miles per day and pushing my pace. Some days I added biking and again pushed my 5 mile time.
Month 6 traveled to CA for niece’s graduation. All the new clothes purchased in early May were one to two sizes too large. *Great excuse to shop in CA!
Month 7 to 8th I kept up the pace and eating habits … and added swimming to the biking or walk for several days.
By end of month 7 I purchased my first “little” black dress Victoria's Secret size 4-6!
Now I am toning and praying to maintain my new image! I have gone up and down a couple of pounds trying to sneak “normal” dinner with the family and missing two or more days from exercise. Balancing eating right and exercise into my crazy schedule, just like you will!
If you can – change eating habits and exercise from the start -- but be realistic, don’t set yourself up for failure.
On a personal note:
I was seriously ready to “lose it.” Tired of hiding from “old” friends, and I was sure I was an embarrassment to my family was embarrassed of me (I felt that way, not that it was true) and like my mother-in-law said, “You are having a stress recess.” That was it exactly! After two years of stressing over Brody’s health and Cody graduating and leaving home; around December I saw that Cody was doing great, and Brody’s health is stable. I realized, “Life Is Good!” It’s time to take care of me, so I can be around for my boys … and Todd!
No kidding …doing this was harder than anything I had ever tried at first, because I was out taking pictures, 24/7. This summer, I had more time for ME., so for all of you working friends, an extra good luck, it can happen. If I made it happen, ANYONE can! My total loss by Month 9, 45 pounds!

I'm not a doctor or do I claim to be one. Friends have been wondering HOW I managed to shed (to the new me) and keep it off. So, I told them my little secret!
A Nutritionist “friend” started me on the eating habits and a personal trainer reminded me … of what I knew back when …
They asked ... I answered!

My Twitter Tips!

2009-07-24T06:36:00.004-07:00

Twitter Tips, How to Twitter and Twitter lingo and Dictionary

RuthAnne Anderson 7/23/09

Follow on Twitter @Twitter_Tips and @TwittPro for more helpful Twittering tips!

So Many Friends have asked me about Twitter. What, How and Why that I decided to write out my own tips on how to use Twitter.

If you’re using Twitter, you know it’s more than what people are having for breakfast. It’s more like “conference call using IM”. Link sharing, conversation, personal connections that break the ice before in-person meeting, & professional networking. It’s like having another phone on my desk in a different form.

If you’re just getting started on Twitter, you’re probably a bit overwhelmed and looking for a few ways to help optimize your experience.

Getting Started

User Name: Use your real name and a picture on your profile. It lets your followers know that there’s a real person behind the profile. You may use a business name for your Twitter name, but they can work if you have a real picture. In general, use a name related to your real name, other made up names can smell spammy to the casual observer.

Your bio should be real. Followers want to know who you are. Make sure you write something meaningful so others can learn something about you. A bio is your introduction as a person, not a 160 character “elevator pitch”. Sales pitches may turn followers away, especially if they think they’ll get pitched if they follow you. Personally, I don’t follow people who don’t have a bio or if they only have a Tweet or two posted, unless I know them personally and they just started Twitter. Bios are important and are searchable.

If this is purely a business account, the bio should be a description of your company.

Home page is Where Tweeting begins

· Status: Update your status and view tweets from people you follow in 140 characters

· Find People: Search for people to follow.

· Search: enter key words of your interests to find other people or topics and this will return tweets by people who have used these words. Then Look at their bio to see who they are and who their followers are. If you like what they Tweet about or who they are Click the follow sign to follow someone

· Following and Followers listed on Home Page Click to see who you are following or who is following you

· Read your tweets

· Profile page: Your tweets, You can see the tweets you have made here.

· Reply to other people’s tweets

· Click on @your name and you can see who mentioned your name or RT your Tweet. The @ symbol sends a reply. This symbol before someone’s name sends a reply that goes to their ‘reply’ tab. E.g. @Aruthanne

· Click the reply symbol. This will place the ‘@’ symbol in the status update box before their name. Then type your reply.

Following and Being “Followed”

You can search Twitter for people you know by entering their name, or any related word or description. Example: Photographer or photography. Twitter also has an option to search the contacts you have on Gmail, Hotmail, AOL and some others. If you have Facebook and go to FB Applications (Twitter), your FB friends now Twitter friends will appear. You can also select to update your Status on Facebook at the same time as Twitter on this application.

As you follower people and like what they are Tweeting, check out who *they* follow and connect to others in their network. That’s one way to build your network, and the people you follow will follow you back, most of the time.

If you start following tons of people, Twitter is very likely to mark you as an account with spam potential and suspend you. It’s not a race. Follow a handful of people, get to know them, grow from there.

A note about follower numbers: the philosophy is that more is better. I follow people who are personable, talkative, and multifaceted. They do more than talk about their business or drop link after link. If someone “unfollows” don’t worry. Each person’s has who they want to “listen” to Tweet. I “unfollowed” someone because I really didn’t care what they ate every meal and when they left the computer to go to the John. Too bad because the information, on occasion was good, so I found out who they were getting the information from when they RT - ReTweeted and dropped their name in by using this RT @NAME and I looked at the info on @NAME and started following them instead.

Consider following people as reaching out and shaking hands, connecting individually rather than just an accumulation of numbers. It’s not a popularity contest. It’s a communication experience.

Participating

Twitter like a conversation (because largely that’s what it is). There’s no “right” way to use it and your own purpose will emerge over time.

Twitter is conversing with other people. It’s sharing web links that are interesting or useful, personal or business. Your shared links are much more likely to get attention – yours web site or others- if you’ve spend the time to build the relationships with your “followers” before you ask people to Click Your Junk.

Participate – Tweet! Don’t beg for followers - if you’re interesting and interested in others, followers will show up. Talk, share, contribute and above all, have a little fun. It is the best way to build relationships and a community on Twitter.

The Twitter Lingo

Tweet: A post to Twitter - text only, 140 characters maximum (including spaces). If you’re just learning to use Twitter, start by posting your tweets from the box at the top of the page that asks “What are you doing?” Notice that while you type your post, the character counter (the number above that box, to the right) keeps track of how many characters you have left. When done, click the “Update” button - and your post goes live on Twitter!

Tweeter/Twitterer: Someone who uses Twitter. Once you Tweet you are now a Twitterer!

Follow & Your “followers” When you follow someone on Twitter means you elect to see in your timeline the tweets that they post. Your “friends” are the people who you follow (get updates from). Twitter lists this in your profile as your “following” statistic, but “friends” is the more commonly used term. Your “followers” (aka, your “posse,” “tweeps,” or “tweeple”) are the people who have chosen to see your tweets. TIP: You can click on any user’s stats to see who they follow and who follows them. This provides perhaps the best way to find people to follow: When you find a particularly interesting or relevant Twitter user, go to their personal page and click to see who they’re following. You can then choose to follow some of the same people directly from that list

@ replies: At Reply, or "@reply": A direct tweet sent to another Twitter user. This symbol precedes people’s “handles” or screen names on Twitter when a tweet is directed at them. Want to reply to someone’s comment? Start your tweet with @ so they’ll know your reply is meant for them. You can track your own replies in the “@ Replies” tab on your Twitter page, or many of the Twitter clients will do so automatically for you. CAUTION: Using @ replies to get someone’s attention isn’t completely reliable. Users can configure their account to see @ replies from no one at all, only from their friends (people they’re following), or from anyone.

RT: Stands for “retweet” and means that the tweet is being reposted from someone else. If I retweet something of yours, that means I’m passing it along for others in my network to see. When you see a tweet that starts with these letters, it means that the person is passing along something that someone else wrote. Many of the third party applications have a one-click button to retweet a post. Tweet Etiquette by "RT" and "@[username]," to give credit to the original poster.

Hash Tag: The "#" sign. Allows Twitter users to group tweets by topic, making it easier to search particular conversations using Twitter Search. You may often see tweets that end with a hashtag, or a pound sign followed by a term, such as #conference. The purpose is to keep track of tweets that are all part of a single subject, event, or topic. If you head to Twitter Search and type in the full hashtag, you can track all the tweets related to that term. You don’t need to do anything special to use a hashtag, just make one up and tell folks to use it if you want them to tag their tweets for your event or discussion.

Link: Including a URL in your tweet.

link shorteners: Twitter’s 140 character limitation makes posting big links impossible. So you’ll see shortened urls from services like TinyURL, Bit.ly, is.gd among others. They take a long URL and condense it down to a short version. Again, clients like TweetDeck have this built in, but you can use the web versions as well, many of which have a bookmark button you can use in your browser.

DM: This stands for Direct Message and is Twitter’s version of a private message. If you DM someone, you send the message directly to them and no one else can see it. To send one, type the letter D and a space followed by the person’s Twitter name (or use the Direct Messages tab on your profile page). The recipient of the DM needs to be following you for the message to go through.

Favorites: If you “favorite” a tweet, it’s like your bookmarking it for yourself. You can see your favorites on a separate tab on your profile, and others can see them too.

User. Typically this means an individual person with a Twitter account - but appearances can be deceiving. Some Twitter names are used by organizations or publications (such as NYTimes), or by groups of Twitter users (such as COtweeters, a communication channel for Twitter users in Colorado). One IBM engineer even has a Twitter account for his house.

Timeline. A series of tweets displayed on a Twitter page. When you refresh the page, new tweets appear at the top of the timeline and older tweets scroll down off the bottom.

Personal page. Every Twitter user gets their own page where all their tweets are archived in a timeline. If you click on the username of a person who posted a specific Tweet, that takes you to their personal page.

Short URLs. You can include links in your tweet simply by posting the complete URL, including “http://” - but you only have 140 characters total to work with, and some URLs are very long. Fortunately there are free online services that will create short, permanent “redirect” URLs that can replace long URLs. Three popular ones are snurl, tinyurl, and urltea. They all work basically the same way: You enter the long URL, and the service generates a short URL that you copy to your computer’s keyboard. You then paste the short URL into your tweet.

How to Speak Twitter

A TWITTER GLOSSARY

Dweet: Tweet sent while drunk

MisTweet: A tweet one later regrets.

SnapTweet: A tweet that includes a photo taken with a cell phone, uploaded to Flickr and posted to Twitter via snaptweet.com.

Twittcrastination: Procrastination brought on by Twitter use.

Twadd: To add someone as a friend or follower.

Twaigslist/Twebay: To sell something on Twitter.

TwinkedIn: Inviting friends made on Twitter to connect on LinkedIn.

Twittectomy: To remove someone from the list of people you follow.

Twitterati: The A-list twitterers everyone follows.

Twitterfly: Twitter's version of a social butterfly, marked by the extreme use of @ signs.

Twitterlooing: Twittering from the bathroom.

Twitterpated: Overwhelmed with Twitter messages.

Twittfeinated, Twigged Out, Twired: To be so hyped up on twittering that you cannot sleep

Can We Do It? Asked A Dear Old Friend

2009-07-14T04:24:00.009-07:00

“Can we do it?” asked a dear old friend.

He moved to California with wife and their two daughters. He started a promising business that leaped into profit margins. So what could go wrong? One decision at a time, along with some bad luck, this California dream crashed alongside our nation’s economy. Pleading for help he e-mailed his closest friends and family. Struggling for words, wisdom, knowledge and encouragement I replied the only way I knew how. I replied with my whole heart … and the only two cents I had.

In reply to your e-mail I would like to first say I love you and your family and in no way shape or form believe that you should be “embarrassed” and I have not criticized you or your family in any way. As far as Lexis’s “accident” that is what it was … an accident. It could happen to anyone of us! I sent a heartfelt letter to the judge and I hope you took the time to read it because it was written from my heart.

The list you supplied was in fact incomplete. Making your point that no way you can live off $500.00 per week paying for these extras, you didn’t include the basic electric, water/sewer, cable, gas, nor did you include all insurances, car payments, taxes and your rent.

I really want to add, You Are NOT Alone! The frustration, anger, aggravation and distress you expressed are felt by most, if not ALL American’s during these economic hard times. Hard Times … I too lost most my investment income, my kids savings and now my job. We are learning how to deal with the loss of income and will set ourselves back with tuitions and some extra curriculum activities like guitar lessons, but feel the importance of each one and most important is keeping my son enrolled at his private school for his senior year. We are feeling it, living it too. However we are not feeling the loss near as much as our friends, our neighbors, our fellow Americans. They are losing their homes. I don’t mean selling them for a loss. They have to walk away with only things they can fit in a bag and in the car and simply leave. They don’t know where their next night will be spent, where their kids will sleep and if they will eat the next meal. Some still have their jobs, but thousands and hundreds of thousands no longer have that. So when life seems to suck so much you can’t stand it, look on the other side of the fence, street or town. You have the $500.00 a week, plus Lexis’s income, plus a mom and dad that help out some when they can. You have three cars, a roof over your head, clothes in your closet, computers, TV’s, food in your pantry and most of all … you have family that LOVE you. Remember all of us and the support you have had at your daughter’s graduation just this past June!!!

Any suggestions … Maybe? Lita is now 18 and can get a full time 40 hour a week job and help pull some weight, if she would. She can learn how important her help can be for her family. What a great life lesson and I know it would be a hard sacrifice for her, but the rewards she would be given by lessoning the stress of her family would be remarkable. Carly, now eleven, can arrange play dates at the public, park or beach. The true lesson she could learn is that no matter what you have or don’t have a true friend is a friend no matter what! No one should be judged on their material possessions, and a true friend wouldn’t care about any of that. Gym membership is important however I started walking our dog in March, added bike riding with my youngest son and now have lost 40lbs. No gym needed. If you dedicate your time with your dog(s), instead of the gym, go for walks … then add family members to the walk … then you have your dogs exhausted (and pooped), Carly out of the house for some fresh air, you exercised and other family joins in … you might start talking and you have free family therapy! Something to think about!?!

Lastly, I want you to take a long hard look at your family. Times are hard, this bump in the road is a big one, but look at them! They are beautiful, healthy, smart and full of love. The happiness and love may be pushed WAY down deep right now, but you know it lies within them and you. Don’t dwell on the past, what could have, would have, might have been(s)… now is the time to look forward. Too late to change the past, but you CAN guide what is ahead. To survive you can’t live in the past, “stay NOW” focus on your future. Leave behind what you can’t change and deal with what lies ahead … one day at a time.

Can you do it? In my mind, I see your troubles and worries. In my heart, I know you can!

“When I grow up I want to be a photographer. What? I'm already grown up? Crap, better get started on that.”

2009-06-07T08:43:00.003-07:00

June 6, 2009 interview with award winning horse photographer, Lesley A. Thompson.

A young free spirited filly growing up on the rolling blue grass hills in Kentucky immersed herself in life’s natural beauty. Like a new born filly, her long legs gangly, her flaxen mane, and blue eyes stunned acquaintances. Her companions and best friends were horses of any breed, size and color. However, she found the buckskin the most engaging.

A graduate with a Bachelors of Arts degree in Communications and Journalism from the University of Kentucky she perused a profession in the horse industry, working a desk job, longing to be back outside with the horses. She picked up her camera and set off for stables, farms, races and horse shows to capture horse moments on film. Patience and passion became the key ingredients for her “amateur” photography career.

Raising a little girl as a single mom Lesley has had to maintain a part time “real” job and continues to pursue her photography on a more part-time basis. This has not stopped her from winning numerous photography contests, images also published in brochures, magazines, newspapers, farm ads, web sites and much more.

When I asked her some more personal questions about her photography, ex-husband and daughter she spoke candidly. She has grown wiser than her years because of past experiences. Lesley is a very private person and loves to spend time alone reading, if not with her daughter.

Some Interview questions:

RA: What was your favorite photo shoot?

LT: Lately I would say the KYQHA Trail Trials. I feel a little too old and maybe chicken to ride through the trail trials, but I not only enjoyed capturing the imaging and watching but felt a great admiration for the rider and horse’s courage to conquer the obstacles.

RA: If you won the lotto, would you stop taking pictures for a living?

LT: I would defiantly continue taking pictures for friends, and go on trips like a guided tour to find wild mustangs and photograph them from a helicopter. I would stop working for the people who after paying me say things like, “I love these pictures, when you become professional please call me.” “Did they not just pay me for this shoot?”

RA: Do you wish you never got married?

LT: “I’m glad for the experience, I guess, but most of all wouldn’t change it for anything because now I have the love of my life, my daughter.”

RA: What picture are you most proud?

LT: “That question is a hard one to answer. I believe it might be the Paint babies on the cover of the Paint Horse Journal. However, I am very fond of several Trail Trial pictures, and I know my personal favorite is one with my daughter standing with her back to me and seven paint babies surround her while sniffing her.”

RA: Is there a question or statement directed towards you, while you have your cameras in hand, at a photo shoot that stuns you?

LT: “Some people ask the obvious questions like what kind of camera do you use and I look down at the strap that says CANON on it and hesitate when saying, Canon!” Another is more of a remark that people say and really makes me wonder about people. They say, “Well, if I had a camera like that I could take great pictures.” I hate to say this but I wish I could just hand them the camera and let them go for it!”

RA: What do you want to be when you grow up? I meant to ask, what did you want to be when you grew up?

LT: “When I grow up I want to be a photographer. What? I'm already grown up? Crap, better get started on that.”

Seeing her work framed on the walls took me to a beautiful world. Shocked that she is not full time photographer, horse owners and enthusiasts would treasure the art she creates through photography.

Lesley Thompson is a freelance photographer specializing in equine portraits. Cover photographs include The Paint Horse Journal and Horse News. Her love and life experiences with horses create the perfect combination to capture the essences of a horse and rider in a photograph. She now resides in Fisherville, Kentucky and can be contacted at 502-253-6796 or cell 502-930-3422 for booking information.

College Bound

2009-06-05T14:52:00.005-07:00

Not a typical photographer, nor am I a typical writer. This spring I have been helping a rising high school senior follow his dream of playing Lacrosse for a well known college. He has not signed as of today, but this kid has what it takes. Taking photographs, video footage and creating a gallery will only help him succeed. His resume should do the rest! His 2009 season has been phenomenal!

William Waters

Height: 6’2.5” 40 time: 4.58

Weight: 190 Mile Time: 5:53

High School Lacrosse: Darlington School (2010), Rome, Georgia

2009 Adidas All America, selected to the Team Georgia Regional team to play in the National Lacrosse Classic

2009 Selected to the Georgia All Star Rising Senior Invitational

2009 Varsity Most Valuable Player
2009 Varsity Top Varsity Midfielder Award

2009 Georgia All State – Second Team

2009 (Varsity) Goals: 46, Assists: 12, Groundballs 198 (12 per game),

Face Offs (223/316) Percentage 71 %, 16 Games

2008 Georgia All State – All League

2008 Varsity Most Valuable Player, Top Varsity Midfielder Award,

2008 (Varsity) Goals: 19, Assists: 18, Groundballs 171 (10.68 per game),

Face Offs 158/236 Percentage 67% 15 Games

2007 State Playoffs, Primary Face-Off Midfielder, Starting Varsity Midfielder as freshman

Following young athletes through my photography is rewarding especially when I am called in to take pictures of their college signing day!

Check it out:

http://actionphotosplus.smugmug.com/Videos%20to%20watch%20or%20download%20for%20free/767019

May Rewards

2009-06-04T09:24:00.005-07:00

Pack the camera bag with recharged batteries, lenses, empty memory cards and flash/lighting equipment. Rush out the door double checking the equipment needed and finding my way to the shoot, making sure to arrive early to scope out the set. Knowing every detail and observing the light that this new day brings. Hours later the intensity weakens, several flash cards are filled, batteries are used up and I load the car for my journey back home to the office. Downloading the pictures, cleaning the equipment and recharging once again, as I continue to edit, rename and organize the images from the event. Burning CD’s and uploading to my website I relive the event, the occasion, and the memories of the day.
Now this would be a typical day of one photo shoot, but the month of May makes that day feel like a walk in the park. My part time photography job at Darlington School becomes a full time, month long 24/7 job in May. There is no time to get sick, my son’s birthday gets pushed aside, and kids music lessons and soccer practices are missed because I can’t get away from the shoot in time. My hands callused, my memory cards are all filled with thousands of photographs, my back screams in pain, and my eyes burn from staring at the computer and only sleeping a couple hours a night. How I crave for a one hour nap.
The reward is simple, pure and pleasurable. After the full year of weekly school visits, getting to know the students. Not just as subjects in my lenses, or faces on brochures, but as new friends. They “friend” me on Facebook where I can see, especially the seniors, grow to be wonderful young adults. They post my pictures from events at school. Sharing the great memories they created. Seeing the picture published once more I learn how joyous the occasion with the words in the captions. I helped capture the memories they can treasure forever, with a simple picture.
My month of May … crazy! My reward … Priceless!