A year ago, when I took my new job, I began working in conjunction with a girl who’s about my age. I suppose “girl” would be a stretch, as we’re much closer to 40 than 16.
Much, much closer.
We also have the same last name, and almost the same first name. It could be very confusing to people who have never met us. While we maybe even favor each other a little bit, she and I could not be further apart when it comes to personalities. While she plays close to the vest (I still don’t feel like I know her that well, despite all the talking we do), and follows the rules to the letter, y’all know me–if it goes through my head it generally comes out of my mouth. Or at least onto this screen. And rules? Who needs them? I’ll read them after the fact if I need to. One thing we do have in common is being particular. Although she hems and haws about speaking up about the way she prefers things are done, I say “do it like this, or just let me do it”. She’s an excellent, patient teacher. I would really be up a creek without a paddle if she weren’t around to explain things and show me how to navigate. She has a decent sense of humor, which is uncommon in Federal employees. I appreciate her every day. And she tolerates me 🙂
She doesn’t trust Facebook AT ALL, so it floored me when she said I was welcome to use her name. She said nobody knows her, anyway. A few of you do! Of course I’m praying for Amber today.
I never know how to start a prayer. O Heavenly Father doesn’t sound much like me, and Lord is getting a wee bit tiresome. Are You there, God, it’s me, Amy, has been done and I can’t just say hey.
Hi. I guess I can say anything I want to, as long as I’m sincere. And I’m generally pretty earnest when petitioning for my loved ones. I’m here to pray for Amber’s requests tonight, but first I want to thank you for hearing our pleas. I know people are praying for me and I fervently hope that more people are looking to you. Maybe their thoughts are being more directed to you. Maybe I have helped somebody through these posts get their life saved. I wish I could know. I do know that there have been several answered prayers in the last little bit and of course that is always welcome news. I also want to thank you for this day. Spring might be my favorite time now that I’m not up to my neck in fertilizer and baby chicks at the Co-op. And my allergies are becoming manageable. Thanks for that, and thanks for the minds of the developers of generic Zyrtec. Amber’s foremost prayer request is that of her mother, who is struggling as the primary caregiver to her aunt. The aunt has really degraded since she lost her sister a month some-odd ago. It is tough to satisfy the needs of someone who is pretty much bedridden, with their mind slipping to boot. It is impossible to rest. I pray for them both, for the strength and patience her mother must drum up every day after working at her career to come home and care for her aunt. I pray for the aunt, may her soul be at rest after the loss of her little sister. May she not fret and just concentrate on keeping her wits about her. I know she’s ready to come home, Lord. I don’t know that everyone down here is ready for her to go just yet, though. It’s hard to know what to pray in a situation like that, so I just ask that you look at their hearts and give them what they need. I also want to pray for a friend of Larry’s (Larry being Amber’s boyfriend). He found his daddy in comatose form the other day and I know that would be terrifying, especially as the doctors had not settled on a diagnosis last I heard. I pray for you to restore him, and give Jake comfort, and lead him to the right decisions when it comes to healthcare for his father. May he not feel overwhelmed, but properly informed. Amber also asked for prayers for a sweet precious lady we work with. She is having some deeply rooted issues with her mother and sister. It’s hard to see them treat her poorly and shut her out. I don’t know them, but I can’t help but feel they are in the wrong. Could you open their hearts, Lord? And if they are firmly in Satan’s grip, please provide my sweet friend with some comfort. She prays night and day for peace to be restored, and I want you to start with her soul. She is a loving, wonderful somebody and I hate to see her hurting.
We have a producer that is very tightly woven into the farming community who recently got a cancer diagnosis. Our prayers are certainly with him and his family as they work out a plan and treatment. Give them strength. Give them grace. Make them humble enough to ask for help from neighboring farmers as he will most certainly need it to get through the coming seasons. Which reminds me, I should probably call and see what I can do. I can always do SOMETHING. And lastly, another farmer who has been on our minds and hearts for years. He lives high on the hill and his wife has had a steadily degrading case of dementia for some time now. Recently, his son was in a terrible vehicle crash and had a low chance of survival. I hear he’s home and doing much better now, but I’m sure he has a long road ahead of him, as well as an expensive one. My prayers are most definitely with this family. They just need a break. I doubt you approve of the lottery, but it would be hard to find someone who deserved a vacation more than them.
Amber didn’t ask for prayers for herself, but I’m asking for them because she’s one of the sickest people I know. Her stomach gives her the occasional fit, but I’m more concerned with her back. I would like to see
I thank you for my job, Lord, otherwise I would not know Amber and what a caring soul she has to remember all these people. She wasn’t the least bit hesitant to ask for prayers for this list of friends and family. She cares about farmers and agriculture and truly believes in conservation. She is knowledgeable, well spoken, and a trustworthy steward of government funds. She has a strong desire to do the right thing for our producers while protecting and improving water quality. I ask you to protect her and guide her and use her as
Amber likes to torture me with endless, trivial paperwork. I like to torture her, period. So I knew I would be paying for it today with my sacrifice. I knew she would pick some vice I truly love.
And boy, did she.
For about a year now, almost all my spare time has been devoted to this
That’s right.
She took away my farm.
I’ve not missed it as badly as I thought, some of the players in my neighborhood have been getting under my skin lately, but it has crossed my mind on several occasions all the cheese and butter and pies I’m missing out on making. I get it, it’s fake, I have nothing to show for it, per se, but tell me….could you deny developing a farm with animals that dress for the occasion? For pigs that wallow when they need their bacon squeezed out? (Which I find completely fascinating, btw). I have a fishing area where I catch prize trophy fish, lobsters, and ducks in life preservers. I have a town with a spa, theater, gift shop, grocery store, cemetery, and B&B. And a BEACH. I have a zoo with a giraffe (Delilah), elephant (Samson), and hippo (I forget her name, but it’s equally cute). It’s my escape. It’s a blast. I recently acquired a taco machine (to the tune of $700,000) and I’m currently sitting on over a million. I mine diamonds and sell ice cream and other wares in a roadside stand. Doesn’t it sound like FUN??? Yes. Download Hay Day and build your own farm. Look for me- my farm name is The Siren’s Song. I’ll be back to farming tomorrow! 
No farm is complete without pollinators! I have many more bees now.
Pigs ready to be squeezed
All for now.
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
I sometimes think I don’t deserve the friends I have. Y’all are way too nice to be hanging around riffraff like me. A month or so ago, after Rhonda had met a few members of my extended tribe, she remarked –totally out of the blue– “You have the nicest friends!”
I usually meet the nicest ones through work, where they can’t run and have no choice but to hang out with me. Does that explain it?
I thought so.
Or, I give them money for providing me with a service, so it’s like I’m paying them to be my friend. I’ll name no names, but I bet you’re smiling 🙂 Or, you might just be family and clearly, you have no choice.
So the girl I write about today falls into one of these categories. I’m protecting the innocent by not naming any names. She’s fairly introverted, but she talks to me. We have a similar set of bad nerves and it is therapeutic to share notes. She’s just a small town girl living in what passes for a big city to her. I know it must be hard adapting, moving away from everything you’ve ever known.
So it is my pleasure to pray for her today. Her request was, of course, for her family.
Lord, I want to thank you first for this beautiful and perfect East Tennessee day you created for us. It was absolutely wonderful. I felt like stretching out on the grass in the sun like a big ol fat groundhog and soaking it all in. It was a grand thing to be alive and present here today. Thank you for this day. Thank you for loving us, and letting us love you in our flawed way.
I often question what good can come from bad decisions. Is it to show us what we don’t want after all? Do we always have to find out for ourselves? I pray that you would open a young girl’s mind and heart and have her listen to you and her mother. She’s surrounded by temptation and cannot understand the repercussions of a poor decision. It’s difficult when you’re young and everybody you see is falling into a wasteland of ill-fated life. It looks so tempting because it’s fun! It isn’t hard work like everything else. And nothing truly terrible has presented itself yet. But it’s working like termites beneath the surface of that porcelain skin, ruining the foundation and eating the wholesome parts. Please surround this young lady with a solid group of role models she can look up to and talk to about the things she needs to be aware of. Make her understand the only way to succeed in life is to rise above and work hard. Boys and men can have their place later, but now it’s important to keep your head in your studies and make a way for your future. Drugs are never permissible; they cloud your judgment and lead you down into a hole of overall destruction that is nearly impossible to overcome. Have your fun while you’re young, but keep your eyes on the long term goal. Don’t mess up now and spend the next twenty years regretting all the things you could have done. I also pray for this girl’s brother. I fear she watches him being reckless and sees that he can get away with it, why shouldn’t she? I pray that he wakes up and takes stock of his life. It is my fervent desire that he make some new friends that don’t pressure him to drink to have a good time. Real friends don’t let you drive wasted. Real friends make an effort to see you and have fun without excessive amounts of alcohol. I pray he finds a lucrative career that won’t ruin his strong back. I know he has a musician’s soul- would you use him as a tool, Lord, playing for you and spreading your message? There are some songs on his heart, no doubt. Give him the courage to leave this life that he’s become so passively a part of to pick up new thoughts and organize his time into something to be proud of. He has a gift, let’s see to it that he uses it for good. I pray for him and his sister both, to get back in your house. To remember how they were raised and why they’re so fortunate to have the life they have with a family that loves them and a warm home with plenty of food in the fridge. They gotta get right, Lord. They’re straying.
I also want to say a prayer for her parents, Lord. They struggle more with each passing day. They’re proud, too, too proud to leave their mountain home. She worries day and night for them. Every breath is a battle, every step is an effort. She frets after she visits, careful to listen to the doctor’s instructions. Life is fragile at that age. May they all have peace. I’m not sure how to pray for them, but I don’t want anyone suffering from heartache or bodily pains, either one. I wish to remove the guilt she undoubtedly feels for not being closer, for not being able to do more. I pray for her sister, as well. This is how prayer works, I know. You pray for one person and it makes you think of another and another and another. I know a little about her sister, how she has her own set of problems and nothing comes easy. I just want peace for them all. I pray for her husband, who travels the interstate system all day, every day. It’s just a dangerous world. They have what appears to be a good, strong marriage, and I ask for a hedge of protection around them and their bond to grow even stronger. I long for them to look toward you and each other for guidance and support. Let them join forces in witnessing to their children and serving as an example of a life well lived and abundantly blessed. With a thankful heart, I ask you to bless them more. I thank you for letting me know them. I thank you for her pure heart and sweet demeanor that bestows kindness to everyone in her orbit. May we all love as simply as you love us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
We’ve all got worries. Any time you love someone you run the risk of losing sleep over them. I don’t know how you parents do it. I’m a coward, that’s why I never birthed no babies.
My dear sweet friend told me to pick my own sacrifice. Since I’m already trying not to cuss {WOW I CUSSED A LOT!! I WAS NO LADY}
So I chose vanity. Hard to believe I’m vain, you say? Well, I AM. I guess there are worse things. But I need to do better. So the first thing I started with were my mirrors. I covered the main two up last night and just shut the door to the other bathroom to remind me not to go in there.
No mirrors means no makeup. Oh, sure, I could have probably managed a dab of mascara and some powder and lipstick, but what was the point? I’m just a mule in horse harness, anyway. (Sorry I’m especially heavy on Gone With the Wind tonight) And, as an added unexpected extra, I decided not to weigh. I weigh every morning and then I groan and roll my eyes and promise to starve myself one day soon. Why do I do it to myself? Because I’m vain, that’s why.
But I did wear jewelry. I have to have a touch of pizzazz. But I opted for one of my understated navy blue striped shirts and old comfortable Levis. Low profile clothes for my newly adopted-for-a-day attitude. As for my hair, well, it probably looked the same as always, I don’t give it the attention it requires any day of the week.
Rick fixed up the bathroom mirror at work for me so I wouldn’t have to close my eyes while I washed my hands. My 8×10 sheet didn’t quite cut the mustard.
It’s a good thing I didn’t have an eyelash incident today. I don’t know what I would have done. I don’t suppose it was that big of a sacrifice, since on average I might see five people a day, but I still did it. I only caught sight of my reflection twice, once in the glass on the door, and once in Maggie’s glossy paint. But I tried not to look. I focused on looking inward, and to the Heavens, and concentrating on what I was supposed to be thinking about instead of what I looked like. I should only be concerned with what my soul looks like. I hope I project a decent one. But I know it can use some work. Dolly’s got it down pat, maybe I should aspire to be more like her.
Till tomorrow,
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
Book Club meets on the third Wednesday of each month. Oh, I remembered to go, it wasn’t that. I just misplaced the location. It wasn’t where I thought it was, but I was within a hundred yards, so I guess it counts.
The book up for discussion was What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty. I read it a couple of years ago, and thought I would be good to go after reviewing my synopsis on Goodreads. Notsomuch. So I set about rereading it in the three days preceding Wednesday. That didn’t work out so well, either. I got pretty far, seeing as how all the underlining was already done (ha), and her books always read quick, she writes so easy. Sure, it’s chick lit, but it’s quality. Oh, here’s your link, before I forget- https://amzn.to/2BVbajw
I loved Alice. That is, old Alice, circa 1999. Who wouldn’t love her? She is absentminded, easygoing, and perfectly kooky. She’s a bit timid and naive but everything has that new, unaltered, fresh feel of young love and your whole life ahead of you.
See, Alice bumped her head when she fell over in her fitness class. She’d been this driven overachiever mom of three angels, pushing herself to be perfect at everything, and going through a divorce. She was 39.
So the question was poised: Would you go back?
Hell yes I would. I would like nothing better than to have the last ten years of my memory wiped. what different decisions would I make? Well, I could think of one major one. But I might be afraid to chance it on the career front, knowing how I was positioned to be where I am now.
*If you could go back ten years, what would you tell myself? That would be tricky, because my 29 year old self wouldn’t want to hear it. My 29 year old self would be kicking my 39 year old self’s ass, though, I’ll tell you that. My 29 year old self was a girl of action. My 29 year old self saw that she was still young, but time was not to be squandered.
*If you could write yourself a letter now to read to yourself in ten years, what would it say? Again, I probably wouldn’t listen to myself. I wonder if I’ll even live ten more years. I sometimes think I take too many chances. There are times I feel invincible, I admit. I guess I would tell myself to exercise more. Stay off my phone and read more. Save my money for vacations, quit blowing it on food and booze every day. Hopefully I would have learned this by then….but I still retain these bad habits from ten years ago, so who really knows?
Maybe what depresses us and makes us feel inadequate are the thoughts we have about what our life should be like when we’re 40. Everybody says find your own happiness, it’s different for everybody. But you know that everybody expects you to be married to someone successful, and not work after you have children. Everyone expects you to have a nice three bedroom brick house, with two and a half baths, maybe put in a swimming pool after a few years. You’re supposed to take a couple of vacations a year, and a big trip- fancy Alaskan cruise or somewhere abroad every five years or so for your anniversary. All the right clothes (and shoes and bags), the perfect hair and makeup, and don’t forget skincare, it’s so important! You should probably sell something on the side, like Pampered Chef or some gimmick to make you feel pretty. Maybe have an Etsy shop if you’re crafty, to make you feel like you’re contributing. Like cooking, cleaning, and raising kids ain’t enough. Then there’s the volunteer work at school and church and maybe even the library. Don’t forget to exercise! Life is exhausting when you’re living up to everyone else’s expectations!
You know what I say? Ditch the relationships. Ditch the idea of growing old beside someone because honestly, no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough. The other person will come to expect things out of you, and then become bored because you never surprise them. No matter what anyone says, I think most people stay married for money and security. If they could keep their means of living the same if they were single, I think most couples would be divorced. They don’t trust their partner, they have nothing in common with their spouse, or they’re just plain bored. You can have more fun alone. Get a dog. In the last week, I’ve had two different men tell me polar opposite opinions. One has been divorced once and is happily remarried, but looking around at his friends and family wonders if we aren’t meant to be alone. You can find someone who is everything you think you want and marry and be happy for several years and then BAM! Outta nowhere, it seems like, you find yourself alone….or putting up with your partner’s extracurricular activity. And I don’t mean spin class. The other one is married to his fifth (and final) wife. Maybe he was too hasty in his other relationships. I didn’t ask. But he believes we’re not meant to be alone. I don’t know. Most people will say we’re meant to reproduce, too…and I certainly don’t agree with that. There are plenty of children in this world and the population just keeps swelling. So the way I see it, my contribution to society is NOT contributing more people TO society.
Back to book club. Spin vs. Step. We all but had a Knock Down Drag Out after saying it could really happen to me. But I was confused when the girls said that, because I don’t do step class, and I don’t intend on taking it up. They’re like, “No, it was spin! You already do that!” So it was then I called them crackheads and argued that it was step and they were all three looking at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears (and yes, I would eat them if that ever happens) and I went to my pocketbook to produce the book to show them exactly how crazy they were. It was then suggested by Beth that my copy was from another dimension- I mean, country, and sure enough, I determined it was from Australia, where the author lives. So. That happened. None of us are crazy, surprisingly enough.
So I don’t know. I think the older we get the more we try to conform to an ideal of what the public has deemed “normal”. We don’t want to stand out in the way we behave or dress. We try to blend in and act like everything is hunky-dory. Well, I’m here to tell you, we’re all fighting battles. But make sure you’re only fighting your own. Your harshest critic is the one in the mirror. And I somehow forgot. But I won’t forget again. And I won’t be making any more mistakes in living my life the customary way. I’ll go back to being a flamingo in a flock of pigeons.
I’ll just be happy. I do remember how.
xoxo Amy
It’s been said there are two varieties of people that tell the truth: drunk people and little kids. While that’s true, I know someone else who tells the truth, and she ain’t drunk and she ain’t little.
It’s Barb.
Some of you know Barb. She spent more years at the Co-op than I did, and it’s only people with Very Thick Skin that can endure a decade + in that place.
I don’t even know where to start.
I guess I should introduce you since you might not know her. She’s tall, with skinny little
Once, after she’d retired, we met up for a girl’s day out. We went to Wasabi’s on Bearden Hill and then tried to decide what to do. It was such a nice day, we hated to be running around indoors shopping, and Barb said, “Hey! I know! I’m gonna take you to Grainger County!” So off we went. We hit every pig trail off Rutledge Pike and I saw lots of beautiful 
Funny thing. That day I was participating in another kind of challenge: a writing challenge. It was day 20 and I was tasked with putting my music player on shuffle and write about the first three songs that played. Well, it’s ironic because what Barb picked for my sacrifice was to not listen to the radio while driving.
I ALWAYS listen to the radio while driving. Well, maybe not the radio, but
I think another reason we get along famously is
But a couple of years ago, Barb got some Really Bad News. Yes, it was cancer. But she remained optimistic throughout the surgery and chemo and all the treatments she had to endure. She was hopeful, as one must be when fighting.
But just when she thought she was out of the woods, it came back.
And again she fought, more determined this time to really see it through.
And once again, it has returned. And once again she fights with this bright light and same ol’ Barb smile while her husband and son watch and worry.
Barb ain’t worried.
Barb’s got the faith of a million mustard seeds.
This is just a minor setback, interfering with her plans to go eat seafood at RB’s on Shem Creek, and reading till two o’clock in the morning. It’s aggravating, yes, but she’s not letting it get her down. Too many things to do and see. So now she goes to Vanderbilt to see the best of the best and get this taken care of once and for all. Barb’s got a might-as-well-be-grandchild on the way. Barb’s got a Sunday school class to teach. Her best buddy from the Co-op just retired too, and they need to get out and about. Barb’s gotta go, go, GO.
Lord. Come on. It’s Barb. BARB. You know Barb, she’s
Bless the Lord, O my soul;
And all that is within me, bless His holy name!
2 Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And forget not all His benefits:
3Â Who forgives all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases,
4Â Who redeems your life from destruction,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies,
5 Who satisfies your mouth with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
I ask these things in Jesus’ name, Amen.
You know how when you’re driving down the highway and a police officer pulls out after you and you start worrying even though you weren’t speeding and you know your tags are in date and your lights work? And you can scarcely breathe for watching him and running all the scenarios through your mind? And if he does pull you over, you know it’ll be okay because you’ve done nothing wrong.
So join me in praying on behalf of this very special lady, who always made the Co-op feel like home to me. She let me cry on her shoulder one of my first days there when this lady really let me have it for not knowing what layer pellets were. Me and her and Robin piled up in the 1960’s era paneled one toilet bathroom and cried till we laughed and laughed till we cried. Y’all remember that? I do. She was in full throttle when it came to my wedding plans, and always up for a lunch date. We still have many more adventures to come, crepes to eat, and I know I haven’t heard all her stories about growing up in Grainger County. Get well soon, Barb. I’ve got a sunroof and a full tank of gas.
I didn’t stop for a doughnut this morning. I didn’t go out for lunch. I won’t be picking up barbeque for supper.
No, I’m not on a literal fast today (talk about making me HANGRY) but I’m not buying anything. Zip. Zilch. Nada. No nothin’.
I’m out of eyeliner. Too bad. Should have popped by Belk yesterday. I would sure like a slice of cookie cake. Oh well. Good thing I don’t need gas, ’cause I guess I’d be begging y’all for a ride to and fro. No using Uber. No books from the online retailer I use with frequency. No new socks or body wash or any number of vital items. Granted, I’m only fasting for one day, so it’s no big deal, but it does make one conscious of all the things we buy. Maybe that will be my thing next year:
Who picked this for me? Somebody that knows me well- myself. I’ve been in prayer for Christy, my friend of nearly twenty years, the Christy who does my hair. She couldn’t think of anything and told me to pick something that I would benefit from. I chose this sacrifice, because Christy is frugal and thinks through every single purchase she makes. Unlike me. I need to be more like her. Or maybe I should just give her my checks and my bills and let her control my finances. She’d probably rather enjoy that. After she got over the heart attack from seeing what I spend, that is.
Anyway, Christy’s request was simple. She merely wants her transition from the space she leases for her business to her new location to be a smooth one. I don’t have much experience with moving, unless you count the Co-op renovation, but I get that things could easily get out of whack quick fast and in a hurry.
Lord, some days are harder than others. Sometimes I feel like I get further
It’s a
It’s not often I get to write about Christy and I wish I felt comfortable taking the liberty to tell more tonight, but it’s been a long day for yours truly and let’s just say I wish I was climbing into her chair tomorrow morning for a
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
I once had a job where it seemed nothing I did was right. Even if it had been right that morning, by afternoon it was wrong. And it wasn’t just me that was wrong, it was all of us. But it wasn’t our fault. Our boss was under a lot of pressure and it affected his reasoning ability. We loved him anyway, because he had one of our best interests at heart- a job to depend on. But that was a little hard to remember on occasion when you’re racking your brain wondering what you could have done differently.
It was during this time I met someone whom I came to depend on for my own sanity. She was easy to talk to, she understood seemingly all aspects of my life. She constantly told me it wasn’t my fault, just to roll on. Rock steady. So I would.
This gal had experienced her share of being misunderstood. For her part, she’s nearly covered in tattoos, head to foot. People judge. So when she opened her mouth to reprimand her son in the store instead of just letting him run rampant, it gave people pause 🙂 She’s the sweetest soul you can imagine; she has a soft spot for creatures. Especially her old pug Herman. She has a gorgeous, elegant, long-haired, grey-tipped cat named Shakespeare. She has a weakness for beer and tacos, and to counteract that, she has a running habit. She’s Steven Tyler’s biggest fan. We share a mutual love for yoga, lilies, and Guns-n-Roses.
Today is for Roxy.
Lord, I thank you for this girl who has a bone-deep understanding of the trials and tribulations that just come from living life. I am better for knowing her. I ask that you keep her mind clear and her nerves placated during this time her husband will be incapacitated from his surgery. I pray that she doesn’t lose her temper or become distant or feel underappreciated. I pray that her husband recovers quickly, with little pain. I also ask that her son have a desire in his heart to help out as much as he can. Let these six weeks draw them together, Lord, and show appreciation and love like no time before. May they find many laughs and a closer relationship to one another and you. May their hearts grow as they give and receive care, and a nurturing aspect blooms. I ask that she continue to be a non-judgmental listener for all those who know her, and give her the wisdom to guide them on the right path. Thank you for her loving heart, Lord, and may she always be empathetic to all those in plight. We praise you for her growing family, may they be blessed and go forward showing love to everyone whose paths they cross. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
When I asked her to pick something for me to abstain from, I told her this was her chance to be cruel. Sweet girl said she would never be cruel to me. She wanted me to fast thoughts that it was my fault. You might not think I ever think things are my fault, but I do have a little bit of brain devoted to rethinking my words and actions. They say it takes two to tango but sometimes decisions are made so far from left field it’s hard to wrap your head around how it came about, never mind how you could play a part in something so completely devastating. And so I’m not investing any more energy into racking my brain about it. Furthermore, it’s not worth it. The worst part is adjusting to a new normal after having my mind made up it was going to be completely different. That’s what hurts. That’s what is completely terrifying. But I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I won’t start now. Go on. Say “I dare you.” It’s never turned out well for the daring party. I’ve got fire in my eyes and stars in my soul, and Heaven help the ones who cross me nowadays.
It’s hard to know someone. Especially when they’re not honest with themselves.
So here’s to the power we all have within us, vested by the Lord. I only have to believe something better awaits me around the corner, down the road, or maybe I’ll have to wait for the other side. But things are already much improved. I count my blessings every day. And y’all are among them. And that means you especially, Roxy.
Love, GeorgeAnn
You ever had something happen and maybe it was so earth shattering you didn’t fully comprehend it until days or weeks later? Maybe even months or years? Like, someone dying and you just kinda coasted along for
My sacrifice today was candy. That’s not a huge sacrifice for me, as I’m only tempted by potato candy, peanut M&Ms, and Rolos, and none of those were in my immediate proximity today. And breathing sugar all day has a way of turning you against it. Did I tell y’all I had purple boogers last week?
PURPLE.
Job hazard, I reckon.
Do you think we meet people by accident? Or do you think we’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be at all times? I don’t know, but I’m glad I met this one. Fellow redhead, fellow fashionista, fellow dog mom, with a tell-it-like-it-is attitude. Don’t waste my time or my money kind of gal. Best interests at
I pray this evening for this sweet girl’s health. She’s fought some battles, Lord, more than most of us at this age. I pray for complete healing of her stomach especially, as well as any other concerns that arise. May she be able to partake in any foods without it upsetting her system. (Feel free to keep any
I will stress again, if you want me to pray for you, just send me a message. I don’t check the email to my blog often, but I can be reached on Facebook messenger. I don’t have to use your name if that’s what you’re concerned about. I don’t even have to know you personally. It is our God-given duty to pray for one another. And it is my pleasure.
Good night and God bless,
Love from Appalachia, Amy xoxo
Not everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, thank God. Some people you meet there and you get the privilege of staying their friend forever and ever. And you can’t understand how it’s possible to have so much in common with someone you’d never met and that you primarily communicate with via text and Facebook.
Jill and I both have curly hair and penchant for citing Steel Magnolias at every opportunity. We know our Co-op stuff (aaaalllll the stuff) forward and back, even though neither of us are employed by them any longer. We have an unhealthy obsession for M&Ms, and a wanderlust attitude. If you are all of these things, you can join our club after a thorough vetting process.
Jill has tasked me with thinking no negative thoughts. It’s been on my mind since I woke up. So I’ve spent the day with my (typically hidden) optimistic attitude. Good thing I didn’t have my checkbook and receipts here, I would be breaking Lent for sure! I’ve been avoiding Facebook for the most part, as well. It’s hard for me not to criticize. I worked in the yard a little bit but was better off in the kitchen, where I have a better chance of living up to my standards. I’ve set a low goal of pulling staples from the hardwood floor of the back bedroom closet where I took the carpet up. It makes me feel empowered prying them out….till one is holding on like a hair in a biscuit. Then I grit my teeth and bear down…or go to the next one.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts…
My kitchen is so dated…But at least I have one.
My dog is very well behaved.
Don’t think about doing laundry as a chore, think of it as exercise since I get to go up and down stairs.
I can arrange my library any which way I want.
What I’ve found with this practice is that when I’m focused on positive, I tend to get a wee bit sarcastic. Like, I’m dreading dusting. But I can’t think like that. I’m supposed to think: when I get through dusting I can read my book. But no. When I get through dusting, I will find something else that needs to be done. I can look forward to eating some lemon creme cake, but the fact of the matter is, it’s full of sugar and will no doubt contribute to my ever-thickening waistline, which, in turn, will drive me on in spin class like the hounds of hell are nipping at my feet.
Which I dread.
Or holding a hard yoga pose, forcing myself to contort in a manner in which I simply am unable to fold. It’s a vicious cycle. I don’t think of myself as negative, I try to laugh most everything off and say we only get to go around once. But putting a positive spin on everything? It’s humbling. And so often I think, “I am so blessed.”
Turns out, even if you are positive about things, bad things still happen. For instance, I LOVE Lonesome Dove. But Gus will still die. I can be an optimist, or I can be a realist. It is inevitable that we will have bad news in our lives. Surprises. Things happen that are out of our control. But, this too shall pass. And that’s always good news.
So I’m praying for my sweet Jill today. She teaches me what it’s like to be human. She keeps it real all the time, staying busy with homeschooling her kids and working on her farm. As if that isn’t enough, she’s all the time making pieces with her embroidery machine to sell at local boutiques and craft fairs. That’s on top of helping out at the dance studio and a million other things I can’t even keep up with. She sends me these texts and I’m like, “what in the devil are you talking about?” and we have to go back two months and catch up.
Lord, I’m happy to be here speaking with you tonight. I’m thankful for this beautiful spring day with no rain. I thank you for the tasty pork chop I consumed earlier. Bless the hands that raised the pig and grew the beans. I want to speak a word of intercession for my friend Jill. She’s struggling with all her roles that come with being a mom. I want her to know what a wonderful job she does. I want to remind her that we’re on your
*And you should know that I’ve had Steel Magnolias on the duration of this post. Shelby,
Slow ride….take it easy.
No, it isn’t another must obey the speed limit challenge, I just had vague instructions to enjoy the scenery and stay out of the fast lane. Easy enough, as there isn’t much of a fast lane on my commute these days. But I decided to take the back-est back roads on my way home. Comin’ in…well, that isn’t much of an option, as I’m runnin’ like a scalded dog to get there on time.
Today, I’m praying for the one I affectionately dubbed “Number Three” years ago, because it was determined she was one of my three favorite people. I haven’t seen her in a few years, but she’s still right up there. She’s a fellow Co-op person, and we share the same snarky attitude and sick sense of humor. We used to joke that we needed a morning show…except we really weren’t joking. It’s a shame we never got to see what would happen if I let a mousetrap snap on my finger. If anybody has performed this particular dare, please enlighten me. I’m still curious.
I can’t decide what my favorite memory is of us, but I like to remember all of our wicked dreams of exacting revenge. But I suppose we’ve grown up since then, as she has a family and I have a job where they randomly perform background checks 🙂
I hadn’t really made my mind up about Ashley when she first started working. I couldn’t decide if she was after my job or if she was just a hard worker. She liked all of my departments and took to dusting and rearranging with my blessing. If she wanted to be my minion, so be it. She was welcome to the headaches. She came from Dixie, desiring a job with regular hours and not quite so dangerous. She was pretty showy, with her long blonde hair and perfect makeup and blowsy attitude. I was the closest person in age to her, so we started feeling each other out. I was trying to be cautious- she just looked like one of those super bitchy girls who would be out to cut my throat at the first opportunity.
But one day, she began talking about her life back home in Yankeeland. She told me about her parent’s divorce. She spoke of her brother, and how she’d put hair ties around his wrists as a code to remember which bus to get on. It nearly broke my heart, picturing her taking care of him. Our fate was sealed. She was a good egg, and a sweet big sister.
It wasn’t long before she had me coerced into mani-pedi dates and then she trusted me with the big secret when she found out she was expecting. (Good thing, too, because I had to run her wet paper towels a few mornings as she holed up in the bathroom).
So Ashley has asked me to pray for her brother and his week old baby. Being a mother, her mind is prone to worrying and she knows her brother needs all the help he can get. The trinity-Strength, Wisdom, and Courage. I understand that her brother has had a rough time in the past but has been clean for a year. And so she’s hoping that this baby will be the cement that he needs to solidify his best life.
Sometimes I don’t know how to start a prayer that feels authentic, so I’ll just jump right in. Ashley and I never needed a precursor to our talks, so I assume it’s not necessary with the Almighty, either. God, you know our hearts. Unfortunately you know our mouths, too, and our minds. Hopefully it’s our hearts that carry the most weight.
I want to speak some prayers for my friend Ashley, whom I believe is as strong as they come. And I mean that literally as well as figuratively, because she gave birth to her boys
Update: about an hour before I began this post, Ashley spoke with her brother who reported that little Peyton’s tests had all came back good. They are still waiting on one last one, though, but prospects are looking good!
Life in the slow lane….surely make you lose your mind…that’s why I drove back roads. I opened my sunroof and my heart and put on some jazzy blue Lucinda Williams and I coasted.
I didn’t think I’d see much that I haven’t seen already. I used to drive this route regularly about a year ago. But turns out they’ve installed a new stop sign on this little back road, and a songbird sat atop it. Then there were some chickens in the road, but not at the usual chickens-in-the-road place. There were no dogs in the road today, either, which is a good thing. But there were some vultures dining on some
Yes, I enjoyed my little journey. It took awhile longer to get home, but that was okay. It’s good to see what’s around, good to have an alternate path. It’s good to have friends to remind you that the best track isn’t always the fastest one.
I was the girl who found the genie in the bottle a few years ago. You probably read about me, or heaven forbid, saw me on TV. I’m not much to look at, what with my unruly hair and more-to-love waistline. And yeah, my spectacles and the prominent nose they perch upon. My ears stick out.
I should use the past tense. I was all those things. All that has changed now, and my looks change invariably. With every little thought in my head, actually. It’s hard to get things just right and sometimes I revert back to my old look, that God gave me, because it’s so exhausting being things other than what I am. I sometimes wish back to my old life, too, but it’s a double edged sword. I bounce around because it’s impossible to be content when you know things can be better…or at least different.
I was fishing, is how it happened. I thought I’d found an urn of somebody’s kin they no longer wanted to be responsible for that they cast out. Maybe a long dead relative they had no memory of. I could understand, I don’t want no bad ju-ju, myself. I was rubbing the goop off the side to see if there was any engraving and out pops this dude who looked like Cheech of Cheech and Chong. It was clear I’d woken him up.
“‘Sup?” he says to me, like it’s every day a stranger materializes in the middle of the lake on my boat from a brass urn. “Got anything to eat?”
I couldn’t recover enough to speak, but I’ve never denied anybody food and wordlessly handed over a pack of Nabs.
“So, here’s the deal. Let’s do it fast, I’ve not got all day to hang out, I’m in the middle of a very important brokering deal in Spain. You’ve heard the drill-three wishes, anything you want. Like I said, let’s make it snappy.”
I didn’t like his attitude.
“Can I trade Genies?”
His eyes narrowed. “Hey, lady, beggars can’t be choosers.”
“Well, you’ve got a piss-poor attitude and this should be the happiest day of my life.”
He forcefully brightened his expression. “Better?”
“No, now you just look fake.” His teeth were yellow. He dropped the smile. “Can we just get on with it?”
“What’s your problem, anyway. You should be glad I got you off the bottom of the lake. You were covered in slime!”
He lit a cigarette, produced from the pocket of the greasy jeans he wore. “Don’t you think it suits me?” He tilted his head back and puffed out a smoke ring.I had to admit his filthy former home looked exactly like where he would come from.
“Alright. I wish to always have enough money for whatever I desire.” I’d read a joke once about somebody wishing for that and magically had the money -down to the last cent- every time they reached in their pocket. That would be easier than having a bank account and reporting everything to the IRS. …..how was that gonna work, anyway?
He nodded in a matter of fact way. “Done.”
“How do I know you’re legit?”
“You got a lot of men suddenly appearing in your life wanting to grant you wishes?”
“If you only knew, brother,” I rolled my eyes.
“That’s why you’re out here fishing….alone?”
“Hey, I need time to myself!”
“Mm-hmm. Next!”
“I wish to die peacefully.”
“Good one. Smart girl. And your final wish?”
“For as many wishes as I want from now on.”
At this, he cursed and threw his cigarette down, followed by his beanie that had clearly seen better days.
“You really wanna be tied with me for the duration?”
“I think you need a friend.”
“Listen, lady, I got plenty of friends.”
“And now I have a servant.” I smirked.
It was in this way I came ashore with the wish-granting hippie, toting his own urn (he called it ‘home’ whenever I sniffed at it disdainfully) and wading up the bank to go get my jeep with the boat trailer. I wouldn’t let him snap his fingers and do his witchy magic till I knew more about it. Plus, what if somebody saw and called the cops? I needed to figure this out.
We were tooling down the interstate, wind whipping around us eliminating some of the fish smell when this smartass in a BMW came up on my tail and swerved over at the last minute like he was weaving through Atlanta traffic. We were the only ones in a 100 yards. “It’d serve you right to get pulled over right up here,” I thought aloud. Then a second thought occurred to me. I could ensure that. So I simply wished a state trooper into existence at the next overpass when they went whizzing by at about a hundred and five.Â
I smiled serenely as I passed them by.
The Genie looked over at me.
“Good girl,” he muttered.Â
“So what’s your name?” I asked him.
He looked the other way. “My friends call me Smoke.”
“But I’m not your friend.”
“You can call me Smoke, too,” he said quickly. too quickly. I had struck a nerve.Â
“What is it???” I coaxed in a sing-songy voice. “Or should I just say I wish you would tell me?”
“Gene,” he replied.
I barked with laughter. “You’re kidding. Gene the Genie??? That’s rich.”
He was not amused. I wondered what he had done to deserve such a fate.
We pulled up to my modest house. I took the place in thoughtfully. I’d been meaning to pressure wash the siding and weed the flowerbeds but if I could have anything I wanted…..
Sha-zam!
A big ol’ grand Greek Revival house on a river in South Carolina, set behind a half-mile long driveway shaded by live oaks dripping with Spanish moss and a fancy iron gate at the road. I was uptown, figuratively. Literally, I was in the Lowcountry. At last. I sighed contently and breathed in the pluff mud aroma and felt I had finally came home.Â
Gene the Genie leaned against the board fence. “Nice,” he said drily, blowing smoke out his nose.Â
“And what would you want?” I was feeling haughty and defensive.Â
He shrugged. “Hollywood, maybe? Dubai?”Â
I was to learn that Gene could have wishes granted, too, but he was content with his life. “I see a lot of places,” he told me. “But the people are all the same.” That made me sad.
I managed to keep my secret for two whole days. Then the reporters came a’knockin’. Turns out you can’t just go buy a giraffe with cash. There are permits and licenses. A whole bunch of invasive paperwork. So that’s where I went wrong. With the procurement of an exotic animal. But it was gonna happen sooner or later- crews were scheduled to begin construction of my private roller coaster next week.
You see, I don’t like crowds. Before, this had been a problem. Because I like a lot of the same things everybody else likes. But I don’t want to enjoy them with a bunch of sweaty strangers. My problem is no longer a problem. I can now afford to have concerts where I am the only one in attendance. Or football games. Or beaches or restaurants or any kind of event. No more waiting in lines to buy anything, or get in somewhere. I think this may just be my favorite part.Â
But I really DO have to be careful what I wish for. With the blink of an eye, I can have everything I dreamed of-literally. But it’s a hard habit to break, saying “I wish”. I’ve brought Clark Gable and Michael Jackson back from the dead to have supper with me. I’ve caused fleas to invade my ex-husband’s life for all eternity. It’s better than a voodoo doll, you can infiltrate anything you want. I try to use my powers for good, I signed an agreement to that effect with the UN, but every now and then I sneak. I can’t help myself! I had a hard time explaining how a former first lady bit the dust. Â
It also gets tiresome, merely thinking something into existence. As for Gene, he’s content as long as I keep him fortified with greasy food and beer. He likes the cheap beer, too, which we agree on. No matter how much money you have, if you liked Mich Ultra in your poor years, you’ll like Mich Ultra in your rich years. I never developed a taste for caviar or the minimalist interior design. I still prefer antiques and all my crap on full display.
I sure do have a lot more crap nowadays. Everybody I know does. And they’re all on these perpetual vacations. After I saw what I wanted to, fizzing around from one ancient castle to another, I just wanted to be home with my dogs.Â
But I’ve found I miss competition. And what little patience I had for waiting for something to happen. I miss the time frame it normally takes to grow flowers and food to cook. I’ve found that you can literally wish your life away.Â
I can repeat this life, fine tuning it, and keep everybody I love the same age. I can have any friends I want, any husband, anything. I can eat whatever and never gain an ounce. And if I do, and I decide I like the plumper version of me, I merely close my eyes and resize everything in my closest. I have the softest bed, the coolest cars, the highest-jumping horses. I have it ALL. But what I most long for is to go back to the simple way my life was. So I do, but I have no patience for the real world and end up reverting back to my magical life.
So one day, I wished it all away. Â
Gene was having his morning smoke when I asked him about it. In his typical nonchalant way, he shrugged. “As you wish.”
He vaporized.Â
I felt, rather than watched, my world jerk. It was like when the lights flicker, you feel like you lost a second in the flash.
I was back in my kitchen with the dated linoleum, with my mason jar of tea sweating on the counter. I had plans to go fishing, but at the last minute I decided I would go lay in my hammock under the maple tree and read instead.
Probably be safer. I wasn’t taking any chances.Â
