Happy Easter, Happy Spring

"Till my body is dust. 

Till my soul is no more. 

Till the sun starts to cry, 

And the moon turns to rust, 

I will love you,

Love you,

Love you!"

Antelope Island

This is my friend Karen. We went to school together, you know, way back when the dinosaurs roamed the earth. Well, I must confess I am starting to feel a little pre-historic, especially when I get on a bike and follow her off in to the wild blue yonder. 

I love Karen. There are a million and one things I love about her, but first and foremost is her sense of humor. She can hold the straightest face while delivering a punch line that will knock you over with laughter. She is so much fun. I also love her take on life. She's a lifter of the human spirit, and an optimist. I love being around all that positiveness. I also love that she is a spur of the moment girl.  She loves living life to the fullest. And I must mention, there is one last thing I love about her . . .she waits for me on a bike!  

I hadn't seen Karen for years when one day she popped up on my Facebook page. We re-connected and the next thing I knew I was in a pool learning how to lap swimming. Like me, she also likes to stay in shape.

The other day she invited me to take a bike ride out to Antelope Island.  I hadn't been out there since Desi was in the second grade and when she ask me I was a little hesitant. I then however decided no matter what was going on in my life or no matter how busy I was, I was going to stop and take the time and go. Sometimes you just have to grab hold of life while you can. I'm so glad I did. I have never enjoyed my self more. It was beautiful and we even saw lots of buffalo.

We stopped at the causeway to take in the sights. It was the perfect time of night to hit the bridge. Everything was picturess! Fall on the island is beautiful.

After stopping to rest we climbed back on our bikes. I was just starting to peddle away when suddenly I saw Karen fall over. When a person clips their feet to a set of bike peddles and then they suddenly fall over, it's a pretty shocking sight.  Well of course I was deeply concerned about Karen's immediate welfare so I rushed right over. "Are you ok," I blurted out? "I feel so stupid," she mumbled. We then chuckled over the silly incident and proceeded to once again climb back on our bikes. I had just clipped my left foot in and was working on the right foot when the next thing I knew, serious gravity was bone slamming me to the asphalt. I tipped over! My hands hit first, then my knee dug into the asphalt with a zillion rocks grinding into it, then my head hit the pavement and a billion shock waves shuddered through me.

That was it. When all the motion in me came to a hault, I started laughing and I couldn't stop. Karen was trying hard to keep her spasmataic giggling under wraps, you know, since my knee was hurting and all. It was impossible however, she could not contain herself and soon her laughter broke through in ominous waves. It was a side splitting moment for both of us.

After the whole ordeal, Karen insisted I pose for the picture. Well, it was a proud moment ----MY FIRST FALL!

Karen is the one who talked me into clipless peddles.  "You can't ride with me until you get them," she would say. "They improve your ability to go farther with less energy," she would tout. "You'll never make it long distances without them." That was her story, and she was sticking to it. I finally relented and made the change, however, once my feet were tied down I just knew sooner or later I was gonna biff it. Everyone does. And I mean EVERYONE! I worried about it something fierce every time I rode my bike. Now lying there, I was so thrilled and relieved to have it over with. It wasn't bad either. I was glad I had gloves on, they protected my hands. And I didn't rip my pants, I was ecstatic over that. And for a fifty year old lady, the asphalt was considerably kind to me. It was a good first fall!

After realizing the falling thing wasn't so bad, I picked myself up and proceeded to climb back on my bike. My dad always said, "When you get bucked off, you've gotta get right back on!" I figured if that was good sound philosophy for a horse then it had to be good sound philosophy for a bike too. Karen and I now refer to ourselves as Derelict #1 and Derelict #2

We rode that night until we got stuck between some buffalo. We both decided with our luck we were not going to see if we could ride between them up a hill. I was not feeling up to out peddling buffalo! We thought we'd save that for a luckier day.

This was the last shot of the night. The autumn sun was fading fast, and I marveled at the beautiful golden light on everything. It was so quiet and peaceful by the harbor. One lone boat left in the dock made me think of how sad I am that winter is soon approaching.

I can't wait to go back to this place that is practically right in my back yard. The next trip is going to be the beginning of my first annual tradition ---a bike ride with my grandkids to Antelope Island. I can't wait. We're going to take a picnic lunch. Float in the lake, skip rocks and count the crickets. Karen gave me the idea. It's a goody!

Antelope Island . . . I love it! If you haven't been in a while, fall is the perfect time to visit!

Birds Of A Feather Stick Together

We're the Crows. We live at the Crow's Nest. We have long declared ourselves bird people! I'm not joking with you. I'm being serious. The birds know about this declaration and it is my bird brained assumption that they love us for it. How can I tell of their undying love for us? Because they flock to my house as if I'm having a party and I invited them all, like they can't wait to come. For instance yesterday I looked out my kitchen window and there must have been at least a hundred birds sitting on my shed. It was birds gone hippie, they were having a full fledged sit in right on my roof. I want to know how word spreads in the bird world. How do they all know to show up at my house together? Maybe they read my blog, after all it does say, "For the birds!"

All these birds behave as if they are my children. Well, I am the head Mother Bird around here. I know they have this idea they belong to me because they keep moving in with me. I told you about the Woodpecker who took up residency on my satellite dish. And the Killdeer birds come every spring to nest in my tree rings out front or along side the driveway so they can get run over. There is an Owl that lives in the big tree across the road. I love it when he calls to me in the dead of night. Numerous birds fly in and out of my place all day long. I run a regular flight zone here! The Magpies have set up a subdivision in the pines out back. I have to fight with the starlings to stay away from my front porch. And on the East corner of my second dormer some little sparrow has made her permanent home under the eaves.

This spring the Robins came in droves. I walked out my bathroom door one day to shake my bedspread and this little mother bird swooped at my head like a F16 Fighting Falcon global aircraft. After her courageous attack on my gnarly morning hair, she landed on the branch in my Flowering Crab Apple tree. Look at her. She's glaring at me. You can barely see papa bird in the background keeping watch as well.

As I watched these birds I had to laugh at the behavior of the mother verses the father. It wasn't the father that was threatening to peck my eyes out for coming too close to their future family. After I shook the bedding that morning I turned around and to my surprise found they had built their beloved home right on top of my porch light. Glade kept telling me to rip it down. I didn't have the heart.

Over the course of hatching her young, Mother Bird and I got to be good friends. I'd check on her every morning and she'd hop out of the nest to the closest branch and watch me work. We'd converse about all sorts of things and I really got so that I loved our early morning visits.

Just as I got use to Mother Bird living with me down home, I drove up to the cabin one day and found her distant cousin had also taken up free room and board on top of my weed eater. See I told you they are just like my kids. Now they vacation with us too.

Lucky for this mama bird we have nothing to weed eat at the cabin and our weed eater is nothing more than a rusty cabin ornament. 

I too am referred to as Mother Bird. . . I let her build her house.

The animal kingdom loves us. This year nearly the entire Bear Lake Pot Gut populous showed up at my cabin. At first I thought they were so cute. That was until I noticed they had built holes everywhere moving mass amounts of dirt to places I didn't need or want dirt. Then there was my neighbors beautiful grass, they ripped that up like a corn maze. After spending a few weeks watching these little varmints, I soon learned they were anything but cute. They had no respect for the fine place I'd built and they had no regard for anything or anyone who got in their way. When I saw how they were threatening to literally take over, I worried the birds had told them we are friendly people.

One morning I went out back to check on my little cabin bird family. Mother bird was going nuts and I discovered in sheer horror something had made it's way to the top of the weed eater and had eaten two of her little blue eggs.

After seeing how distraught the mother bird was I immediately declared war upon the Pot Gut world. I just know it was one of those fat bellied moochers that stole her eggs. I called up my friend and borrowed his high powered B'B' gun and put a bounty on some little brown heads.

We are not law abiding people. We shoot first and ask questions later. You can figure out the end of this tale. We protect our own!

Goose wanted me to post his trophy pictures. I must admit they are great shots of the hunt. However, I told him my blog is "G" rated and I don't want to upset any tree huggers and animal activists that might be blog lurking! But when I print my 2010 blog book, I'll add the pictures just for you Goose! I think you should have made yourself a Pot Gut hat!

I just know word of our protective services in the bird world is going to get out now.  Oh well, it can't be helped. Us birds of a feather have got to stick together!

Seven Miles

Tuesdays are my long run days. This past Tuesday I did 7 miles. One thing about being out on the road running, once you go 3 and 1/2 miles in one direction, there's only one way home, unless you call a taxi. This is where I want to remind you, I am not a runner, remember at all times, I've never been a runner, and please never forget for over half my life, I hated running.
There have been so many people who have helped me literally learn how to run. I have painfully learned that running doesn't come naturally to everyone and not everyone's body is designed to run. It's taken several months for me to feel comfortable in my form and I still battle daily to sustain that form. Thanks to Jason McKellar and his direction to study Chi running my form has gotten much better. This has been the greatest advice I've gotten thus far and it's made such a difference in my endurance, my overall speed and my self-confidence.
However, I have to laugh when I read what I just wrote, because to the average joe who passes me out on the road, I look like one of those fat slow sedentary joggers plodding down the road! I definitely look like an old woman trying to run. I try not to look at myself if ever I pass anything that can reveal my true form. I think it's a ghastly sight.
Monday night I was apprehensive about Tuesday's run. I didn't sleep well in anticipation of the agony of trying to run seven miles. I'm not joking when I use the word "agony." When I run it takes every ounce of stamina I have and it's not easy by any means. In fact most of the time it's just down right torture. Things always grow bigger in my head than they should and for some reason I fretted all night long about the distance.
After looking at the clock, getting up wasn't hard since sleep was no where to be found in me. I dressed and plugged in my ear phones. Just before I headed out the door some little voice gave instruction. Thankfully I listened to it and stuck some GU chomps in my pocket. The Lord is always helping me, even in trivial matters like running. It was just a little after six when my feet met the road. I started my stopwatch and so it began.
The soft early morning light was beautiful. Maybe this is what drives me to run. Something in my soul loves the road, the resistance as my feet strike the pebbles buried in the tar, the lack of barriers, the lack of confinement, the wind sooner or later at my back, the sun always high above me. I love the exhaustion when my heart is pounding. I love the efforting, the challenge to conquer parts of myself that resist being altered.
I busted my butt the first mile and was pleased with my time. The second mile was ok but the third mile started to wear on me a bit. I nearly got plucked off by two yellow school busses speeding past and contemplated finding a new route for future long runs. I was happy when it was time to turn my frame around and head towards home. Now my feat were feeling the road. They felt heavy, and my muscles were pleading with me to stop or at least slow down. As I passed through the river bottoms I noticed my shadow. It was a mile long, stretched out to the west of me. The dark figure was a stark contrast against the green alfalfa now a glow with the morning dew. I spoke to it, something like, "Get a move on it would ya?" I noted how much I love the earth, how much I love nature.
It wasn't long though when I realized I was growing tired fast. That's  when the little seeds of discouragement started to enter into my head. Thoughts like, "I've got to go all the way home, and I"m getting slower not faster." quickly took root. Stark condemnations started to flow, "What in the hell were you thinking, signing up for this?" Then as always, that familiar voice that knows me, loves me and understands my plight whispered, "You can do this!" It reminded me of the GU in my pocket and encouraged me to use it. I hadn't brought any water and I needed to wash it down. My mind immediately thought of Fremont and the water fountains. I was only a half mile away. I pulled out the Gu chomps and shoved them in one after another until the whole bag had been consumed. I finished the last gummy chomp as I crossed the parking lot. I headed for the school, pried open the big heavy doors, ran my way through a million kids changing classes, found the nearest fountain, drank like a fish and bolted out the back door with a new attitude.
"I can do this!" "I will do this!" became my mantra until the GU kicked in and it wasn't long until I rounded the the last familiar corner leaving me only one mile left to go. As I finally approached my house, I cut the time on my stopwatch, noted how long seven miles took and tried not to think about how pathetically slow I am as I walked up and down my driveway with the aches and pains now forming in my hamstrings and the rest of my lower limbs. I kept telling myself, "It takes a long time to learn to be good at something." I wondered why this is so hard to remember? And I thought about how I've been trying to run for almost one year now and questioned, "Should it take this long?"
The rest of the day, I was tired, down, ornery, and discouraged. Why do I dwell in the negative? At one point during the day I sat on the kitchen bar stool and couldn't hold back the tears of discouragement. Man With A Drill came home that night and reminded me of all the good I've experienced. He reminded me that walking two miles takes him three times longer than me running seven.
In the scheme of life, being 53 and running a half marathon really isn't earth shattering. Some people might even ask why all the bother, after all lots of people have done it. But somehow this goal I set one year ago is a personal challenge that lies deep within, and is a challenge no one understands but me. It encompasses a powerful experience I traveled through a year ago. It is tied to my goal I set of strengthening my own personal self both physically, mentally and spiritually and it is meant to be a learning experience that will teach me in ways nothing else can.
All of us have our own inward personal mountains to climb. There are characteristics embedded in my being that make this goal of running a half marathon a unique challenge personally for me. And there is something extraordinarily powerful about learning to discipline myself!
Everyday running is more than just physical, it is always mental, always spiritual, and attacks the lazy that lies within.
It took me a week to write this, but I want to record the challenge. the emotions, the experience. Tomorrow is Tuesday. (Uuuugh) I'm going to remain optimistic. That's my goal for the day.

There Was An Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe!

I have this problem, ok, maybe more like a bad habit. I like to kick my shoes off in the bathroom. It seems ridiculous that I'd only have to walk two more feet to put them away inside my closet, but for the life of me, I just can't make it that far! The sad thing is, I could walk in my closet every day for a month and pull out a different pair of shoes and even if I never put a single pair back, I still wouldn't run out of shoes to kick off at the end of the day. I'm a woman, a woman with a lot of shoes.
Today I walked in my bathroom, took one look at the floor and started laughing. I decided to count all the shoes that were strewn in front of the tub. I'm surprised Man With A Drill hasn't tripped and fallen, breaking some serious part of his body. It had to be dangerous trying to climb through and step over all those shoes to get to the tub. Man With A Drill is a patient guy! He hasn't said a word to me for well over a week, and it had to have been painfully annoying. I love him for that!
I decided I should record the day in living color before I put them all away. The sight could be seriously shocking to anyone who walks in and sees my clean floor. I was so ambitious I even vacuumed and shook the rugs.
I wondered if someone could tell what kind of personality I have just by looking at my shoes? Part of me wants to get every shoe I own out and take a picture! For now though, just know tonight my shoes are all safely tucked away in their boxes, at least for a day or two, and then I'll probably start the whole process all over again!
 

A Long Time Ago

From left to right, (#2) Nancy Phyllis,( #3) Carol, (#4 Faye), and (#1) daughter Mary Kathryn.

This picture appeared in the Standard Examiner so long ago I can't remember. I have always thought I'm the luckiest girl ever. You see, I had the ultimate childhood, I got to grow up on a farm and this has made all the difference in me!
I guess I should have felt sorry for my dad, everyone else who owned and operated dairy farms did. Most farmers had sons to help, not my dad. But how could I feel sorry for having the privilege of growing up in the best way possible. My father thought his fate unfortunate when his own father died at a young age leaving him the farm. Maybe this wouldn't have been so unfortunate if my dad had produced any boys to help him with all that work. But you see my dad was the only boy in his family and even though all he ever wanted was go to college, he instead got the farm and his sisters got the education.
The story is told when Carol was born and my dad found out it was another girl, he sat down on his milking stool in the middle of the milking parlor and cried. I think he saw a glimpse of his lonely male future on the farm. The ironic part is, his sister who lived in the city, gave birth to four boys. Here my dad wanted an education and instead got the farm, he wanted boys, and instead got girls. It just goes to show you, life is often unfair, and I'm glad.
Inheriting a future my parents never really wanted often caused both of them to cuss the farm and bemoan the financial stress and work load it created. Every time they did I would hug them and beg, "Please don't sell it." I appreciated their sacrifices even as a child.
My sisters laughed at that because I had asthma and got to sleep in while they had to get up every morning at 4:30 and milk a hundred head of cows. Because of my asthma, I was only allowed to play down at the barn, not work there. I want you to know it pays to be the baby of a family! There are indelible rights that come with being the baby and I enjoyed every one of them! I was born on the 4th of July, born on a farm and born the baby; life doesn't come any better than that!
It must of been after the milking stool incident with Carol's birth that my father decided to assign his children numbers. Maybe it helped him acclimate to the fact he was never going to have a son. I only know by the time I was born my father had totally settled in with the fact he had no boys. He proudly named me after his favorite cow, a full fledged sign he was serenely comfortable with raising girls!
The last thing I want to touch on is our names.  My oldest sister was named Mary Kathryn. My father chose the name. The middle name is a strong Blanch family name.
When Phyllis was born my mother said she was picking the name and she announced to my dad she had chosen Phyllis Nancy. On Phyllis's blessing day my dad proudly held up his #2 little daughter in her little white blessing gown and pronounced to heaven his daughter would be known on this earth as Nancy Phyllis Blanch. My mother nearly fainted.
The war between my parents continued over my sisters first name and Phyllis went to school at age six being referred to as just that, "Phyllis". Everyone called my sister "Phyllis" except for my father, but that only lasted until she came home with her first report card. After getting a glimpse of her name in writing my dad sent my sister back to school with this proclamation, "You're name is "Nancy", you will be called "Nancy", and I don't want to ever see "Phyllis" written on anything again!"
Once my father put his foot down, that was it, the name "Phyllis" was never to be uttered again.  My mother however, and her sisters were not going to budge one inch on calling her "Phyllis" and no Blanch was telling them what to do! They would not give in to my father's demands. They stood their ground back then and still do so today. The entire world calls my sister "Nancy", with exception to my mother, her sisters, and of course Mary, Carol and I.  My mother predominantly governed her children and so my father tolerated us calling our sister "Phyllis". I think he did this in the wake of having gotten his own way with the rest of the universe..
Now you can understand why when Carol came along my mother said, "No more middle names." I was always a little miffed at how Carol and I were slighted with having only one boring name, and to this day I have always wished my parents would have named me "Liberty." I told my dad he wasn't very creative!
My parents loved to battle over everything when it came to naming their children. Even with my short simple name there was a battle. My mother was pretty clever though in getting her own way, she filled out the birth certificate and so legally my name is spelled just the way my mother wanted, Faye with an e! She cleverly won this one. My dad never gave into her wishes and whims. Legal or not, he never once spelled my name with an "e", alway just Fay, simple and short, just the way he wanted it!  Maybe this is why they didn't have any more children, naming them was far to horrendous and the only thing worse that four girls would have been five.
The farm is gone now, my dad is gone, I am thankful both live on in me today!

Journal Entry February 19, 2010

Cleaning out my study today. A friend of mine sent me this little clip since she knew I was working on becoming a minimalist. The clip reminded me I need to make less junk in the world.
Haven't written a journal entry for three weeks or more. Haven't felt much like writing. Negativism does this to me.
This week I invented ohnery to a new degree! By Wednesday I assumed it was the weather that was causing it. (I need the sun.) Finally around five o'clock in the afternoon, I prayed for some help. I hate myself when I'm this way. I didn't feel much of the spirit after praying but it was time to go to Young Women's, so I belligerently drove to the church.
As soon as I arrived I remembered it was pajama night. I was not dressed for the occasion. Being rebellious throughout the entire day prevented me from even thinking about wearing my P.J's to the Young Women's.
When I walked in I saw all the girls had brought their blankets and pillows, my mood immediately changed. Isn't it funny how something so little can bring instant relief, immediately when I saw the environment of relaxation I felt better. Something about pig tails, fluffy slippers mixed with flannel sprawled and propped on percale softened my whole demeanor.
The girls were working on personal progress. The thought went through my mind, "Well, isn't this befitting for a person who doesn't feel like she's progressing at all today!"
I sat down by Kayla. Her gentle spirit mellowed mine. We started looking up some scriptures for a goal she was working on. I looked up Alma 7:23-24 and that's when my prayer for help stood straight before me.
I read, "And now I would that ye should be ^ahumble, and be ^bsubmissive and gentle; easy to be entreated; full of patience and long-suffering; being temperate in all things; being diligent in keeping the commandments of God at all times; asking for whatsoever things ye stand in need, both spiritual and temporal; always returning thanks unto God for whatsoever things ye do receive. And see that ye have ^afaith, hope, and charity, and then ye will always abound in good works."
Immediately I felt my negative nature disperse, all of it just fell away, and quietly my heart whispered, "Thank you, I needed that." 
Today is a better day. And again I'm reminded (Proverbs 3:12) " For whom the Lord loveth he correcteth . . .

January 21, 2010

Journaling is a hard thing to keep up with.
Had a good weekend. Ate Yummy Taco soup at Em's on Saturday. Got to see her new house she's going to be moving into. We took a drive to see it. All four kids rode in the front seat with Glade and I. Didn't drive far, so we felt ultimately safe with our bad choice. Emy looked pretty funny in the back seat all alone. The kids loved it. Fun night.
Had the Blanch clan over for soup on Sunday. My sister (Phyllis) is a rock! Saturday she moved into her rental and they bulldozed her home into a pile of black rubble. I cried. The fire took everything. It was a beautiful home. She and her family are a great example to me. 
Played Bunko on Tuesday. I paid 5 dollars for a nice meal. Caroline makes a great host. Gavin stayed in his man cave. He knows his place in the world!
Yesterday I tended Eden. I gave her a bath. We ate Dee's hot cereal. We danced and watched the bunny show. That girl is energy in motion! Corbin came over with Kaedell to pick up Eden. It wasn't long and the tormenting began. I plunked both of them down on the couch for fighting. Corbin is smarter than Eden, he put on the required smile and got off! Eden persisted with her "I'll show you" attitude, sassing me at every turn.  I love it!  Corbin is four, he's getting smarter.
Signed up for the Bear Lake 1/2 Marathon today. No turning back now. What have I done?
Serious training begins! Love the C25K app on my iPhone. C25K stands for Couch to 5K. Week one day two - Brisk five-minute warmup walk. Alternate 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking.  I like how they fixed the app so my music plays in between the man with the big voice that suddenly speaks to me in my head phones telling me when to run and when to walk. As I listen to this program, my mind wanders in and out while I'm on the road, heart pumping hard. Sometimes I can't remember if I'm suppose to be running or walking. I know the big voice told me but I forget. Developed ways to hold my fingers so I won't forget. How crazy is that?
Broke a hard sweat today. Hope my foot holds out. How does taking two weeks off, kill 8 months of training? The body goes down hell fast!  Hahahah I accidentally typed hell instead of hill. I'm leaving it - it fits! How come muscle deteriorates so fast? 8 months of hard work and it leaves me in 14 days!
Cleaning out closets continues at a slow rate. Cleaned out the drug cupboard. 1993 expiration dates on bottles - I think it's safe to throw them away.
Heavy snow storm. Another tree casualty out front.  Who ever planted that tree a hundred years ago, across the street, sure planted it in just the right spot. It never fails to stop any car going too fast around my corner in a snow storm. Some non native to my curvy little road hits it every winter. Usually a teenager. Was the man behind the wheel clueless that there was a blizzard taking place? His green Rodeo is history. His four wheel drive did him no good. I drug him out from under the tree and up into my drive way so he could call the wrecker. Another metal heap for the junk yard.
Des and I are going to our oil painting class tonight. I'm painting a rooster.  We'll see.
Desi signed up for indoor soccer. Wicked, is all I have to say.
I think my sickness is finally gone. I was beginning to think something was seriously wrong with me, it lingered forever. It was strange. Best description - Flu like symptoms without Flu like symptoms.
Back on my vitamins.
Political note: As the dust clears from Tuesday night’s historic win for Republican Scott Brown in the Massachusetts special Senate election, the questions are starting to pile up. This did my heart good! I just know my dad rose up from his grave and said "Hallelujah!" A Republican capturing a seat from not only a Democrat but, Ed Kennedy (held for 47 years until his death)? Oh my, that knocked a few democrats flat! Thomas Jefferson said, "That government is best which governs the least, because its people discipline themselves." Discipline, we could use some of that today!
Oh, I almost forgot. I got my first blog book in the mail. I had the first year of my blog (2008) printed into a book. Glade sat and read it all night. Wow, our life recorded. It's awesome.
Question? On my bucket list is, "Write a book." Does my blog book count?  Can I cross it off.
Note: add new goal to bucket list, "Write a book and sell it."
Life is good. I am happy.

January 11, 2010

Thursday January 14, 2010
Goal: Write in my journal at least once a week.
It's already the 14th of the month. I don't feel like I've accomplished much, but remember I'm cleaning from the inside out.
Basically I've lived in my red and black flannel moose pajamas, sporting my favorite Eddie Bauer long sleeved, 90 percent Puma Cotton/10 percent spandex T shirt for 14 days. (Working at Eddie B's has its perks.) I did get dressed to exercise, run to the store, go to church, and work on Tuesday, but keep in mind, I returned immediately to my hibernating attire the second I got home.
Note regarding favorite T's: I went ballistic when I discovered that these t-shirts feel like a second layer of skin. I now own well over a dozen in brown, charcoal, gray, creme, tan, and hot pink. Yesterday I worked at the store and four new colors came in; purple, blue, yellow and turquoise. I didn't buy a single one. That took more self-restraint than I can even describe! I love these t-shirts, I wear them day and night! I want the purple one. Well, we'll see what the budget allows.
For the record, I've worked at Eddie B's for 5 years now. I just got a nice 5 year gift certificate to spend in the store. I should give Eddie B. a certificate for putting up with me for 5 years, LOL.
My financial goal this month ---get organized!
I've been working non stop on my computer to get my finances organized. Organization takes time!
I read an article today on debt and it said, "Denial is the American way."  Then it went on to say that there is a dirty little secret about debt: The longer you have it, the longer it lasts. It's the biggest Catch-22 there is. You built up debt because you couldn't live on what you had. Now you still don't have enough to live on -- AND you have the additional expense of paying back the debt. It's like quicksand. That's an understatement. I personally have learned in my short life that debt truly has draconian pressures, harsh and severe!
Why is it every January I want to fix everything in my life? So I'm thinking of having a little more self-restraint and actually tackling the "B" word (budget.) No more Puma cotton T-shirts for me (except... maybe one purple.) I just know it's going to kill me if I don't get a purple one.
In February one of my sub goals for my new year's motto is going to be "Live Moderately."  Yes, this will be no fun, but in the end will produce greater happiness. It feels good to be in control of one's life!
In an effort to teach an old dog new tricks, I downloaded Dave Ramsey's material. Reading about baby steps! Working now on the snowball debt relief plan with a few minor changes. It's all so arduous! I love the word arduous! Writing down my goals in my journal is torture-some.  Thomas Moore said, "It's not easy to visit the place in ourselves that is most challenging and to look straight into the image that gives us the most fright; yet, there, where the work is most intense, is the source of soul."
I'm looking at myself and I've decided I too often live by my father's motto "Money was made round to roll not flat to stack!" There needs to be balance. The scriptures teach moderation in all things! While I'm happy I'm not the miser who sticks every penny in the bank for he is no healthier than I. I am at least happy I've enjoyed a good part of life. Gavin will agree with me, spending money is so fun! Right now though, I am not happy with this part of my life so time to reign things in a little.
I'm writing my goals down right here in black and white for me to plainly see them, now I will be held accountable. Aren't I brave? Well, brave or stupid!
Besides getting organized this week, yesterday I got dressed and spent the day with my mom. I love my mom! She is the greatest lady ever. I took her to get her hair done, ran to the grocery store for her while she was in the chair, upon returning and getting her all seated in the car, I then listed off every restaurant in Ogden, she loves to get lunch after her hair is done. She selected Maddox.
I called the order in on my cell. My mom loves Maddox Halibut. We got the luncheon special and a drink came with it. She ordered her cherry Pepsi and I ordered orange. As soon as my mom heard me say orange, she requested I change her selection too.
"Given up your Pepsi, mom, That's not like you." I rendered.
She went on to tell me with a big smile, she was changing it up today.
Even at 88 years of age my mom is still witty! This however is where I have to record the funny thing that happened when we got close to Maddox.
The mind is a very strange thing. As soon as my mom caught sight of Maddox her memory came back to her. Suddenly she looked at me and said, "Ooooh, Can we get a fresh lime." It caught me so off guard, I started laughing. My mom loves Maddox fresh lime drinks and it only took the sight of Maddox to refresh her memory. Even at 88 some things never leave you.
"Do you want to change your orange to a fresh lime mom?" I asked.
"Yup, I got to have one of those." she said. She was like a little kid, so excited. This is what I have to look forward to when I'm 80 I secretively thought.
Side note: Maddox is a rip off! They've raised their prices so high. For two specials it came to 35.00 dollars. Give me a break! We did get two crab salads, but still. That's the second thing my mom loves, Maddox crab salad.
We drove home and ate in the comfort of her kitchen. I'll bet she said a hundred times how much she loved it. After we ate I vacuumed, cleaned out under her sink, gathered the paper, fed the cat and doctored her poor leg.  I just know I'm going to miss these times when they're gone. 

Journal Entry: January 4, 2010

Since I love to take pictures I got this bright idea today to journal my life with photos. I'm not quite sure how this is going to work since the idea is new, but something tells me I'm going to like it.
President Spencer W. Kimball gave this counsel: “Every person should keep a journal and every person can keep a journal. It should be an enlightening one and should bring great blessings and happiness to the families. If there is anyone here who isn’t doing so, will you repent today and change—change your life?”
Here are some of the things we are encouraged to keep in our journals.

• 1. Important events, impressions, and personal feelings

• 2. Personal counsel, promises, and blessings received and the circumstances surrounding them

• 3. Deaths, births, marriages, baptisms, and endowments

• 4. Personal triumphs, failures, and struggles and how they are met

• 5. Current local, national, and world events that impress you or influence your life

• 6. Simple occurrences in daily life.

• With that being said I embark on a new way of keeping a journal.
  

January 4, 2010
Still at the Lake. It's a perfect dismal January day, cloudy and gray!
Spent the day setting some goals. Worked most of the day on my Mac Power Book G4 laptop. I love my computer even if it's old! My eyes hurt I've been working here too long. Is it too or to?
Had a bowl of Captain Crunch for lunch. Not really part of my nutritional goals for 2010. I love sugar!
Still trying to figure out what germ plagues me. My body aches all over. 800 mg. of Ibuprofen controls it, but then when the drug wears off I'm back to aching again.
It's now 4:29 PM... better think about going home. :(
Em called a while ago, Anna and Craig have been throwing up.
Caroline also left the cabin last night heaving her toenails up and I just got done talking to Kelson who is home in bed. He too now has joined the vomiting club. Wow, I can't wait to get home. I'm saying that with great sarcasm.
Positive note to self: I'm not puking!
Personal Feelings: Everyone is sick and broke in January!
Des is downstairs playing Mario Cart. To bad she has to go to school tomorrow or we'd just stay here.
Inspirational quote for today... "Any inner space, no matter how large will be filled by any agitation, no matter how small." C. Terry Warner
On the spiritual side. I seek to follow Moroni 6:4 ...Keep them continually watchful unto prayer relying alone upon the merits of Christ who is the author and finisher of my faith."
My head hurts. Time for more Ibuprofen.
Life is good. I am happy.