My friends are cruel.
I’m not even gonna keep you in suspense on this one.
No jewelry.
Do you KNOW how much I love my jewelry? It hangs from every doorknob in my bedroom, two drawers crammed full, two jewelry trees, and a jewelry box. The bigger and flashier, the better.
And not one piece will adorn me today. No eye-catching necklace, no jingling bracelets, no sparkly rings, not even my tiny glittering studs are in my ears.
I feel exposed.
But. The reason is solid, and so I dressed in such a way I wouldn’t have worn much, anyway. I feel so drab. I feel like a BOY.
But I suppose it came on an okay-enough day. I didn’t have to go anywhere today, besides work and spin, and at work I’m not exactly flocked with strangers most days. As for spin, I take almost all my jewelry off, and I don’t think I can look any worse than when I’m exercising, so it’s fine.
Who gave me this little piece of hell, you want to know? My good friend, Jena. That’s right, she knows exactly where to go for blood. Dirty, dirty. I would never mistreat her that way.
Y’all should know I just spent an eternity hunting for a certain picture of her on my flash drives. I didn’t find it but here’s a picture of the picture, and it will just have to do. 😁
Enough on my vanity. Onto my prayers.
Father, I come to you tonight with an anxious heart. To think of what my friend is enduring, I cannot fathom. I know it can always be worse. But I ask you to keep Rob safe as he is out on the roads making his way, providing for his family. I know he never intended to be away from them this much, and I know how his heart aches. I ask for a hedge of protection around him and keep those angels near. I pray for your strength firmly at Jena’s back as she cares for their boys, delivering them to school, making sure their shoes are tied and their hair is combed and their homework is done. Making sure they’ve eaten and brushed their teeth and remembered their science fair project. Those are good, good boys and I can only imagine how their heart hurts when they want to show their daddy something and he’s not right there to see and listen. And Jena, working all day in the healthcare system and then having to pick those two rambunctious boys up and rein them in to eat supper and wash up and say prayers and get into bed without Daddy there to tuck them in. I know lots of single parents do it with no help at all, but maybe it’s even harder when you’re used to having a helpmate to split responsibilities. At any rate, I pray for confidence and ease of negotiations in the event Rob seeks employment elsewhere in order to be home. We thank you for careers that bless us with money to live our lives, and we are humbled that we have the ability to work and communicate and drive. I thank you for their healthy sons and the little farm to raise them on. I pray that Jena stays in control and isn’t overwhelmed during the four years Rob is on contract. It is my desire that this time apart will only serve to strengthen their relationship with each other, and more importantly, strengthen their relationship with You. I pray for your grace and your peace to settle within them all, and soothe their troubled hearts. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
I have no “new” stories on Jena, I don’t see her enough and when I do we don’t get into the mischief we used to. And to be fair, I forced her to pick something to fast. She said I didn’t have to because we love food too much!! See how sweet she is? She’s one of those rare people I fell right in with, and I never have to be anything but precisely myself. She accepts me with all my faults on full display and I love her for it. I love her and her family for a million reasons, and one near the top is she doesn’t force her darling little boys on me. As a matter of fact, she goes to great lengths to keep us separated. 😁 That’s a true friend, right there.
Prayers for all the people out there who thought life would be different, that it would never be this hard.
Prayers for the lonely. You aren’t forgotten.
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
You may not like someone the first time you meet them. Or the second.
Or maybe not even the third.
But eventually they may wear you down, grow on you like a mole. Before you realize it, it’s there, and you never even noticed.
This is how it was for me with Brandi.
I worked with her husband for awhile before I ever met her. She had a bit of a reputation for being brazen and opinionated. And LOUD. She made up for her short stature with volume.
Brandi has narrowed eyes that miss nothing. She talks fast and drives faster. She has an extremely low tolerance for b.s., which is unfortunate because she’s surrounded with drama. That comes with the territory when raising a teenager, I suppose. She’s smokes to offset the stress.
Anyway, I don’t remember the moment where I decided she was all bark and no bite (when it came to me, anyway. The rest of y’all will have to fend for yourselves). Maybe when she lowered her guard with me when she saw I wasn’t after her husband! Scotty became my “work husband” pretty early on, because I could trust him to not leave me on top of pallet racks or the little office after raising me up with the forklift. He always helped me lift salt bricks (hey, 48# is a lot when it’s over your head!) and whatever else I had a mind to dig out. He was in on several of my little decorating projects over the years. Remember the Jesus gardens? And all my crazy ideas for suspending stuff from the ceilings and walls at Christmas? Scotty is a true friend and a dedicated employee. I love him dearly.
And, like I said, I came to love Brandi.
We formed an alliance one year, solid and strong, and went to the Christmas party locked arm in arm. The husbands rolled their eyes and kept one hand on their weapons. Not because they’d have to draw them, but to make sure we wouldn’t get them! Ha! I’ve written about her daughter, MacKenzie, before. She’s the blonde sparkles who loves leopard print, My Little Ponies, unicorns, and glitter. The one I wrote that was baptized in the river with the powerful picture to accompany it. You remember?
Brandi and I kept in touch after I left Co-op, and we virtual farm together now. Well, we did through Christmas. She’s taking a break while this other is going on, that you’re fixing to read about. We spin together! Two of the unlikeliest of girls getting together to exercise and sweat. We have a great time. She sometimes calls me because she’s one of these people who mistakenly think “it’s too long to text” (looking at you, Tippett!) {Hint: It’s NEVER too long to text} and I will even answer, on occasion. I have also been known to call her. She knows if it’s my smiling face on her screen, odds are it’s my squalling voice she’s going to hear.
Brandi is a good egg. That’s why it’s my pleasure to pray for her and her family.
Lord, you know our hearts. You know what we are going to ask before we even think it. I’m here with a loving and open heart to ask for divine intervention for my friend Brandi. I didn’t ever think about you being a real estate agent! But she needs her house sold quickly and the new one built just as fast. Her whole family has moved in with her aunt and I don’t need to tell you what a trial that is. Although she is thankful they have someplace warm, safe, and close to stay, it is a burden to impose on anyone. There are several peoples’ schedules to work around and a dog to keep an eye on, as well. I thank you for her aunt, who has lovingly taken them in and provides them a soft place to lay their heads and all the other things she willingly gives them. I thank you for potential buyers and friends and family that spread the word of their house that has so many new improvements. I thank you for Brandi’s hands that prepare meals and change diapers and wash laundry and dishes, and Scotty for being a provider through his work at the Co-op where he is always hard after it with a positive attitude. I thank you for his strong back and arms that are able to sling straw and load feed, seed, and fertilizer all day in order to support his family. I’m proud to count this couple among my closest and dearest friends. I pray that during construction of their new home (close to me!) that the workers will stay safe and alert and build a strong, secure dwelling. I also pray for the weather to cooperate and be conducive to building. I pray that you are foremost in their marriage and as their children and grandchildren grow up you are at the front of their lives as well, directing and leading them on the path of your choosing. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
The sun was shining, I’d worked on my feet for eight hours for the first time in nearly three years, and my friend was asking me to fast alcohol.
I decided I’d rather drink beer and do without my pillow.
I’m dumb, in case you didn’t already know.
But I had my few beers and turned in. Turned in to a flat bed. 
I sighed and slept surprisingly well. Not soundly; I woke up a few times, confused as to how I’d lost all three of my pillows. But then I would remember drowsily, about my promise and say another quick prayer about blocks and brick and concrete and fall back asleep. I had a few weird dreams and when I woke up this morning I had taken a wad of comforter and fashioned it into a makeshift pillow underneath my head. I hope that’s not cheating because I don’t care to repeat this night. I have a heard enough time sleeping as it is. But I rested fairly well, considering.
I’m just giving a little bit of sacrifice these days. One gave all.
And that’s why we remember.
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
A long time ago, I lived on Sugarloaf Mountain. On Sugarloaf Mountain, I had many things: time on my hands, a
Alene was a fellow bookworm and we would trade paperbacks as frequently as we traded recipes. She started me some flowers and we would take them eggs. She was like another mother to me, so warm and inviting. They had a pond and many summer afternoons you could find me there feeding their catfish…or catching them. I walked with Alene around her yard as she pointed out various flowers and where they had come from. She had beautiful, thick, clematis vines climbing up her carport. It was a quiet life for a
Flash forward twelve years. I had worked with Alene in the 911 building until she retired, and I moved off the mountain, back home. I ran into Donnie and Alene at the funeral home (that’s where I see everybody!) and I learned that they, too, had moved. It was so good to see them and catch up! I hugged their necks off.
The next time I saw Donnie he was with his daughter-in-law at the fair. I kept catching his eye but it was like he didn’t recognize me. Which was entirely possible because I had on my big Jackie O sunglasses. We were watching the unveiling of the Lego courthouse and as soon as it was over I rushed up through the crowd and grabbed him. “Are you just gonna ignore me or are you gonna give me a hug?”
“I would honey, but I don’t know who you are.” He looked me dead in the eye.
Now, Donnie has always been a big cut up. He’s the definition of jovial and his eyes just twinkle. He loves to pester and aggravate and joke. He gets tickled and shakes all over like a jellyfish. Which makes me laugh that much harder.
I poked him in the gut. “Very funny. How’s momma?”
He narrowed his eyes slightly. “I’m not kidding, I don’t know who you are.”
My smile faltered. I glanced at Misty. She confirmed it.
“He’s not joking. He doesn’t know you, Amy. He had a stroke a month ago and lost a percentage of his memory.”
“I can’t remember anything after 1978,” Donnie piped up.
I know my mouth had dropped open. I suddenly remembered Alene posting Facebook updates about his stroke but I had evidently missed the part where he had lost his memory. Or maybe I had lost mine. I was so ashamed.
So we stood and talked a minute, and a vague recognition came to his eyes. “Alene told me I would probably see a girl named Amy here tonight, and that we love you.”
I know my eyes welled. I asked him if he remembered Dave, his neighbor of many years, and his son Tyson’s good friend all through school. There was nothing there. He didn’t even remember his own son. At this point I was afraid of upsetting him worse, and so I bid them farewell, feeling lower than a gully snake’s belly.
The next day I sent a message to Alene, apologizing profusely for any embarrassment I may have caused him or undue stress. She assured me he was getting used to having people run up to him that he didn’t recognize. I promised her that I would pray for his memory to be restored, and strength for her during this trying ordeal.
In January, Donnie had to have another knee replacement. While I understand his memory is quite a bit better, this is still a challenge adapting to this health concern. Most recently Alene has suffered from her second mini-stroke and of course, it is weighing on her mind that she may not be able to care for Donnie in the coming days. He is prone to Sundowners as his disease progresses.
Are you there, God? It’s me, Amy. I’m back again tonight, praying for another soul that is very dear to me. Alene is fretting about taking care of Donnie, her husband of decades. You know all about it, Lord. And you know that Alene has health troubles of her own. Her worries lie with who will be there for Donnie if something happens to her and she can’t provide him with the level of comfort and stability he’s come to expect, and no doubt needs. I ask you to ease her mind,
Alene asked me to include her in my prayers yesterday, and of course I obliged. I asked her what she would like me to fast, and she said I didn’t have to, but of course I do, that’s part of it. She couldn’t think of anything besides IHOP. Ha! Y’all know how I love my IHOP crepes and hash browns. I agreed I would stay out of there for her! Coincidentally, I had eaten there yesterday morning. And strangely enough, with the person who introduced us.
You tell ME God ain’t real.
I didn’t eat taters today, either, because staying out of IHOP was too easy for a real Lent sacrifice. Staying away from french fries, though….well, that’s a different story.
Y’all have a blessed night and Sunday!
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
And now I’m gonna tell you about Mike’s wife, Cat.
You talk about fun. She’s a NUT. She has frosted hair and an honest-to-God beauty mark. She’s high energy and all giggles and she’s the
I digress. Cathy was always petting me and saying I was the daughter she never had. Of course, I ate up all attention like a mule in a corn crib, so that was just fine with me. She tells me that even now, every time I see her. I have never doubted Cathy’s love for me. And I hope she’s never doubted my love for her.
As I mentioned before, she had a son that I spent a lot of time
Anyway. I was busy living my life and hadn’t seen Mikey, Cat, or Jason in many moons, and Aunt Bren was working out of town for many years and like everything else, out of sight, out of mind.
I don’t know what happened. I have never asked. But I imagine it’s the same sad story of so many people. 8-80, blind, crippled, or crazy= opiate addiction. I have no idea if this is true, it’s only what I believe. But Jason is gone. Not physically, he’s still drifting along out there somewhere and I would like to believe he could still be saved. It weighs heavy on Cathy’s mind, and you know how when God works on your heart it’s pretty much all you can think about. I can help a little, maybe. I’m up to two answered prayers already from these posts, which seems pretty
Lord, I come to you with a heavy heart tonight. I’ve spent most of the day thinking about my lost friends. There are several. But I want to pray especially for one, the boy I used to know. How does someone drift so far that they’re lost from you, lost from their momma, lost from the world? No matter how far gone you get, you can always go home. You always have a home in Jesus. And I bet you would always have a home at your momma’s if you at least try. I want to pray for Jason particularly tonight, that he
I wouldn’t wish addiction on my worst enemy. Primarily because of the grief and disbelief their loved ones carry. It makes them another person entirely. They will hug you but be stealing you blind with their other hand for their next fix. AGAIN, LET ME STRESS, I DO NOT KNOW if this is what happened. I’m speculating and opiate addiction is so common here.
I had to give up wine today, which was no big deal. I had my one allotment of coke from the brain scrambler machine at Firehouse and all is well. Not much to talk about there. And I’m going to bed!!! These late nights have taken their toll on me.
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
I just thought giving up sugar was hard. Or dairy.
Those are child’s play compared with forcing yourself to go the speed limit. This is virtually impossible. Or maybe it’s just me?
Did you know the speed limit on Old Knoxville Highway is THIRTY?!?! Did you know that through the curves it’s TWENTY FIVE??? And downtown is TWENTY?!? Maggie doesn’t even idle that slow!! I do twenty in my driveway!!!
I had to pull over on Boyds Creek this morning to let traffic pass. I refuse to be one of those people making everybody late for work. NOBODY drives the speed limit. I’ve held the opinion for many years that the speed limits need to be increased. That opinion was reinforced this morning. Old Knoxville Highway speed limits seem a bit severe. I mean, I get that it’s narrow and windy, but TWENTY FIVE?!? Maybe if you’re in a box van or a delivery truck, but for the average
Lunch was another challenge. Rubbin’s racin’ on 66. But I think I obeyed the law. I tried, anyway. I had other things to worry about. Like all the tourists on spring break craning their necks to get a peek at Dolly or maybe the nearest moonshine distillery.
Luckily, I had board tonight so by the time I got out the traffic had died down and I was fortunate enough to get behind a vehicle on Chapman that was also interested in going the speed limit. Something tells me they probably weren’t doin’ it for the Lord, though. Probably more concerned about getting pulled over for a variety of automobile offenses that I noted while following.
Or perhaps they’d eaten some fancy brownies.
At any rate, it was a relief to get home.
I tried to concentrate on my prayer as much as I fixated on my speed, but it didn’t work that way. It was a real battle of will to hold it firmly in the law abiding range. And if I accidentally went over, I paid penance by going under for the same amount of time or distance. I’m taking Lent very seriously. It’s a serious matter. And probably somewhat entertaining to most of you. That’s good. Glad y’all are benefiting from my misery!
My protagonist today is a man I’ve known my whole entire life. I was placed on his motorcycle for a photo before I was ever able to walk. No, I don’t know if it was a Harley. It was black, it had chrome. I can envision the picture, but I can’t recall the memory. If you were to meet him, I would introduce him as “Mike, one of Uncle Dale’s best friends. He’s from Union County but he’s been to GUAM!!! And helped put out a fire!!!”
And then I would tell you this story:
I don’t KNOW what Mike was doing in Guam. Maybe he was with the military, but that doesn’t seem right. If it wasn’t eleven o’clock I would text him and ask him but at this point, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, he heard tale of a fire on the island. Being a good ol’ country boy, he wanted to help. Being from the sticks of Tennessee, he was virtually incoherent to the natives of Guam as he shouted at them: “How far’s the fire?”
They looked at him wildly.
Because it sounded like this: “How fer’s the far?”
Looks of incomprehension.
So of course, as we all do, he increased his volume, if not his enunciation. “How
Nothing, of course. Come to find out they thought he was asking about some furry creature, not the hot blazes engulfing buildings.
Anyway, it’s better to hear him tell it.
Like I said, Mike hails from Union County, which as most of us know is as poor and rugged as Cocke County without the high profile. I think they just shoot you up there and let the buzzards pick you and everybody’s super tight lipped and protecting their neighbor and their goal is just to fly low under the radar. If Mike were to talk to you very long, you would hear about his family first and the man his daddy shot out of the apple tree next. I’ll tell you about his family. I might tell you about the man who got shot if you’re nice.
“My daddy was a preacher. My grandfather was a preacher. His daddy, my great-grandfather, was a preacher. One of my Dad’s brothers made a preacher. Another uncle was a gospel singer. So was my mom, and my daddy too, when he wasn’t preachin’. Two of my brothers sang, too.
“And then there was me.”
***Big smile***
So when I asked him what to fast for him, his answer was, “Whatever you don’t want to do.”
So he gets it. He knows the purpose. His daddy probably made him go without shoes for these 40 days .
Mike is A-ok. But that’s a funny way of putting it. Mike wears overalls, has red hair (well, he used to, anyway), and has a gap between his front teeth he can whistle through. He used to drive a big hulking black Chevy pickup. Once upon a time it had a white seal on the dash that he gave to me when I was little. His wife’s name is Cathy, or Cat, whom I will be writing about in the future. They had a son named Jason, who was my age. We played war with sticks in the yard many a time and hung out in his swimming pool. I have many fond memories of staying at their house when I was growing up. They had a cactus by the front door as tall as the ceiling. They once had a chow dog named Thunder that came from Uncle Dale. It was a half-brother to my chow-chow.
Anyway. “You remember I told you my daddy was a preacher?” {You would nod here}. “Well, he shot a man.” {Your eyes would bulge}. “You know how turkeys get quiet at night?” {You may or may not know this but nod quickly so you can get to the good part} “Well, we had a pen of turkeys and one evening we were eating supper and they started making the awfullest racket there ever was. Daddy jumped up, and saw a man in the pen trying to catch one to steal it! He grabbed his gun that stayed propped up by the back door, went out on the stoop, racked it and fired in the air. And a man fell out of the apple tree!” {At this point you would gasp. Very dramatic.} “Turns out the man in the tree was serving as lookout and when Dad fired the shot in the air, he hit him. They took him to the vet down the road that worked on people, too, and that was all that was ever said about it. We never had any trouble with people stealing after that, though.”
Really, you should hear Mike tell it. He has a certain je ne sais quoi. No, that’s not a typo. Lookit up.
Down to business. Mike’s prayer was simple, but heartfelt. His hope is that all cancer would be cured. Wouldn’t that be nice? Personally, I believe it’s already possible but you gotta have the means to pay for it. And I know proton therapy is growing by leaps and bounds. But, oh, to be completely healed! If only it were as easy as taking a round of shots or a series of pills for ten days like you do for poison ivy. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
So I come to you tonight with a loving heart and praising tongue to ask you to for a cure. Some mix of all natural sources to kill cancer at the first cell. Some compound that will kill it to the root, to stop it from ever reoccurring. You know how billions of people suffer and worry and most assuredly die from this disease. You can heal them, Lord. I believe it. You give us hope when there is no more, strength when we are too tired to go on, and faith that we can help others through their trials. You are the ultimate healer and giver and provider. Provide us this, Lord. Give the scientists and doctors the knowledge of what to use for that potion to save us all. For we are told in Isaiah 53:5: But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.
We are promised fruitful heaven on the other side, Lord, rubies in our crown and streets of gold. We who know you know this. But cancer eats us slowly, takes our abilities one at a time at an agonizing price. Would you show us your mercy once more? We need a cure. We need your help. We are pleading for permanent remission from this terrible disease. I thank you for all the blessings you bestow on us, I thank you for my lifetime friendship in Mike and all the times he makes us all laugh. He’s jolly good, Lord. Please hold him and protect him and let him know he is loved. In Jesus’ name.
I know this is near and dear to almost everyone. I can’t think of a single soul who hasn’t had a personal scare, or lost someone very close to them. It’s as common as clover and has to be one of the most heart wrenching things to watch kill your loved one. It never takes the mind first. It destroys everything else it can for maximum suffering. It hides. It’s a chameleon. It’s Satan, straight up. I’m praying for two people currently that are holding their breath, waiting to hear. Nasty business.
I hope that someday
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
Funny how when you have your own agenda for the way things are supposed to go nothing pans out, you are met with a million obstacles, and you feel like you’re just spinnin’ your wheels. But when you put the
And so it goes for me today.
I’ve been behind since I woke up. I honestly applied my makeup at work today. Speaking of that, I need to go get all my palettes and assorted arsenal of brushes from my bag, lest I find myself in the same boat in the morning (highly likely). ‘Scuse me.
Ok, I’m back. While I realize
Alright. So I’m a pretty sorry Lent-er today. I’ve cussed, I’ve dwelt on stuff out of my control, I’ve rushed headlong into things, I’ve been short tempered and an actual pain in the ass to several people today. Worst of all, I’ve not prayed like I should have, like I promised I would.
Hey, y’all are my confessional. This may as well be my diary most days. I don’t keep much to myself.
And so today I would like to introduce you to my friend, Diane. A few of you know her from the library. She’s one of those ladies you can just tell are cool. Like, she looks like she’d be a really good cook. But not in the traditional sense. Like, the funky kind who makes Asian Fusion or Cuban food on a Wednesday as a sort of celebration for surviving half the work week. Her voice is sweet, like a songbird. She is always heading up Friends of the Library events and sends the most cheerful, energetic, informative emails. She reminds me a lot of my Aunt Bren. I feel like to know her is to love her. She doesn’t draw attention to herself in the slightest, but she’s always there with a smile and a warm hug. I look for her always.
So it astonished me when I got a message from her yesterday all but gushing her surprise and heartfelt joy that I was willing to pray for her. Of course I was! Why wouldn’t I be? She stated I was only the second person in her life to offer to do that. Not just this week. EVER. This is a lady who regularly attends church, and I imagine always has. She’s even a prayer warrior in her church! What does that say about us as Christians if we can’t pray for our good friends, or ask them what specific prayers they have? I pray for my girls daily, along with our leaders, soldiers, and lost souls, but I don’t ask them what I should pray for every day. I’m hoping this is the case with those closest to Diane. Even so, I am adding her to my “dailies”.
Miss Diane would like for me to pray that she could always see people the way God does. You know, all the good parts. I’m the WORST at judging people, so maybe she should just compare herself to me and she’d feel a whole lot better about herself! And I’ve never seen her be anything less than incredibly kind to anybody, but if she thinks there’s room for improvement, who am I to stand in the way?
Lord, I come to you (late) this evening to pray especially for another soul dear to me. I am so fortunate that I can call on you at any time for anything and you hear my prayers. You answered a big one for Rhonda just today! There are no coincidences, it is only through your grace that we are blessed. Tonight I ask for intercession for my dear friend Diane. She believes she can grow in your image and expand her heart to love equally and compassionately, and spread grace wherever she goes. I say “she believes” because I think she’s a fine example of a loving Christian, but she wants to be a brighter light, a lighthouse on the rocky shores of life. Place people in her orbit that need love, wisdom, and encouragement, Lord, and use her as your messenger and beacon for those suffering and struggling. I thank you for Diane and people like her for their selflessness and willingness to grow in your holy spirit. I pray that her children and grandchildren will always know how she strives to be the very best she can be, from her spiritual life that she walks with you, to an advocate for the library! I pray that they be as eager to please you and help those in need as she does. I pray for protection as she spreads your word, and may it always be received with ears that long to listen and hands to do good work. I pray for her family to support her and love her as she loves them, and her church family to step up as well. I thank you for placing her in my life, and always having a smile just for me. I bless your Holy name. Amen.
Of course, when Diane gave me her Lent request, it was something to benefit me, to build me up. Because she’s that way. Thinking of ways to help others. Like I need a bigger head. Me and my ego barely fit through the door as it is.
She asked me to list the ways I have been brave in my life. She said she doesn’t know me that well, but she believes I’m “one of the most courageous people I’ve ever met”.
I laughed out loud.
I told her she’d see that I’m actually a bit of a weenie. A guy I dated eons ago called me an oat
I’m racking my brain. Of course, my mind goes first to horses. I will ride anything. ANYTHING. Mom has pictures of me on some Olympian Percherons somewhere. I’ve ridden mules, thoroughbreds off the track, crazy Arabs, wide-eyed Saddlebreds, green Quarter Horse colts, padded Morgans bareback, and the worst: Appaloosas. They’re big and dumb, with the exception of my friend Jeannie’s. (“He’s alright….for an Ap” 😉 love you girl!) My uncle always put me on whatever nag he’d just acquired at the sale barn “to get a handle on ‘im”, which is code for “ride the buck out”. One of the biggest compliments I ever got (I’ve told this story a million times, but humor me once more) was when I was taking a Horsemanship class at Walters State. The owners of the stable had pulled this Arab out from pasture where he’d been living the high life for like, two years or something. A virtual eternity. One of the cowboys (looking at you Greg Miller, if you’re here, which I highly doubt. Maybe Elise is, though) rode him a few laps and brought him back around and dismounted. The instructor kinda cocked her eyebrow and was like, “Well, what do you think? Can we put the advanced class on him?”
Greg
And that was that.
I’m not scared, they’re just horses. Worst case, they’ll throw you. It’s not the end of the world.
Hmm. I guess I’m brave for leaving a job I excelled at for thirteen years. Or maybe I’m dumb for staying that long. But I held my own against some of the snarliest people in the county. I stood up to contractors and highly educated men when it came to killing weeds, planting grass, and taking care of their animals. Red would say, “You beat all I’ve ever seen. You’ll tell them what they asked for, they’ll try to argue with you, and you’ll just rear back and say, ‘well, you do whatchu want to.'”
And I said, “And what to they do?”
“What you told them to do in the first place.”
That’s right. I heard several men mumble to their friend/ coworker/ family as they walked away, “I told you not to argue with her!”
Co-op definitely built character.
I guess I’m brave for quitting that time, throwing caution to the wind that my family would ever speak to me again, and running across the country with the rodeo cowboy. Looking back, that was….bold. I wouldn’t change it, though. I sure did get to see a lot of beautiful country, God’s creation of deserts, rocky beaches, snow in June, the Grand Canyon, and where the deer and the antelope play. I rode a four-wheeler alone for miles on over 10,000 acres. I slept in a haunted house and branded cattle. I peed in the middle of a frozen Nebraska road in the middle of the day because there was no store for miles. I shot a .338. I saw one of the last original One Armed Bandit performances at the Sisters
I’ve kicked cheating men out of my life; I’ve watched my dog be put to sleep. I’ve lost my Grandmother, my Dad, and many friends and extended family. You just have to keep on trucking. I’ve hiked eight miles in the
I’ve walked the streets of Vegas and San Antonio alone in the middle of the night. Stupidity? Maybe. I also rode the roller coaster on top of one of those hotels on the strip, alone. I’ve ridden many a roller coaster alone. I’ve done all my best stuff alone.
I was the first one in my family to go to college and get a degree (only an associates, but still). I drew a gun on what I thought was an intruder, but it was just Johnny coming back for his phone.
I’ve put up hay in the middle of August when there wasn’t a breeze to be bought. I’ve pulled calves and doctored horses crazy with rage and fear. I’ve
I’ve spent my life in glasses and with a head full of impossibly curly hair. That just sets you up for attacks. Buck up.
I have faith that things will just work
King James Version (KJV)
I’ve exposed my heart to a few. Men and women alike will kick your teeth in on that one.
I pour my guts out here for y’all to read almost every day. We’re supposed to keep our relationship with God a private matter, but that seems a little Presbyterian. What if I’m the only Bible some people ever read? (Lord help you!!!)
There’s a fine line between being brave and being stupid. And if you’re gonna be stupid, you better be tough. I don’t know if John Wayne or John Grisham said that, but whoever did was wise indeed.
God gave me the sense to protect myself and stay aware. Be compassionate, but don’t be a sucker. Be loyal, but don’t be a fool. Listen, but believe none of what you hear and half of what you see.
Thank you, Diane, for reminding me. Thank you for doing me the honor of letting me pray for you.
Lent. Finding blessings at every turn when you go looking for them.
Pray for us sinners.
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
Lent is a time to reflect, take stock, and straighten up and fly right with the Lord.
And that’s why it’s so hard.
I mean, it’s really difficult to keep your thoughts pure and true and centered. It’s almost impossible not to worry and not to care what people think. It’s a struggle to love unconditionally and not judge.
But oh, the benefits when you lay your head down at night and realize you did a decent job and you’re proud of yourself for trying so hard. And when you’ve spent the day in prayer for someone you love, just wrapping them in blessings and well wishes you feel so content and snuggly. Have you ever been prayed for like that? Where someone prays out loud for you, whether they’re physically with you, with their arms around you, or when they’re on the phone and they’re actively asking favor from the Lord to almost crush you with his spirit and love and you just feel warm and cozy and like every cell, crevice, and follicle of your body is being wholly enveloped and taken care of?
I highly recommend it.
I’m not that good of a prayer-giver, but that’s what I’m striving to do. I want y’all to know how much I appreciate and care for you! I want you to know I’m in your corner and want the very best for you.
And I want this bird to quit knocking itself out on my window. I mean, how many times do you have to bounce off glass to realize you’re only hurting yourself? I know birds don’t have any idea of what they look like (except maybe crows, they’re really smart) so when they see their reflection they can’t figure it out. But come on, man! The headache should be your first clue.
I met Angela a little over a year ago at the fencing company. She called after being referred by my sweet friend, Christy (yes, my hairdresser. Christy is fully integrated in my life, even if I don’t talk about her much. She’s kinda bashful). Angela and her husband were moving to Seymour and needed a fence for their three dogs.
I didn’t need a new friend, or so I thought.
We always need new friends, according to what I’ve since learned.
Angela is a jewel. A peach. A crafty, witty, exuberant, bubbly package of fun that I’m proud to call my friend. She’s also frequently my lunch date, so if you see me out, that’s who I’m usually partaking in the joy of beef alongside. She always knows what to say, and when to say it, and it amazes me that someone can be so in tune with me after such a short time. Am I really that predictable? No. She’s just that gifted. And she has gifted me with her friendship….and quilt…and sinful baked goodies…
So it is my pleasure to pray for her today. She asks that her focus be to pleasing the Lord with her thoughts and works, and not look to others for self worth. She only wants to be concerned with what the Lord thinks of her, not others. Personally, I thought she did a good job of this, she seems to have confidence in spades, but I guess I don’t know her as well as she knows me. Not to say she’s weird or anything like that! No! Just that she goes about doing her own thing, maybe a little against the tide. For instance, she raises ducks and wears pigtails. In my circle, this is completely acceptable. But my circle is a little different than the circle she hails from. It seems to be her true calling. So maybe that’s it. Maybe she feels a little ostracized from the people she used to know and that’s where her prayers come from? I don’t know. I’m just here to pray.
So, Lord, I come to you today on behalf of my deserving friend Angela. I pray as she goes forward that she is driven by thoughts of gratifying you. Direct her actions so that others will know she lives a life of stewardship to you, and that we should all strive to do the same. Cloak her with your comfort, so that her intentions remain true no matter what obstacles she encounters and ridicule she may face from those who wish to destroy her purpose. May she turn loose of whatever she’s holding that makes her feel she can’t be honest with her true self. May those who antagonize her not be a burden, may she feel as lightweight and free as the eagles in the sky. I pray that she will expose her light fully, and let go of whatever it is she carries. May we all encourage her in this transformation as she looks within herself, and to you, for affirmation. Thank you for blessing me with her friendship, and thank you for her many gifts she shares with us all. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
Angela has tasked me with telling myself how special I am every time I look in the mirror today. So, unlike the bird, I won’t be whacking my head into the glass and feeling dazed, I’ll just be talking to myself. I do that all the time, anyway, so this isn’t much of a stretch.
You is kind, you is smart, you is IMPORTANT. ~The Help
That was the first thing I said to myself this morning as I picked out my socks. I had gone to some trouble avoiding the mirror until my brain woke up and had a few wise words in reserve. So what if I stole ’em? I brushed my teeth, telling myself how fortunate I am to be able to get up in a warm house, put on clothes, find something to eat, and have a good job to go to.
When I went to put on makeup, I decided it wasn’t worth the mirror time and my focus should be on my insides today, so I forwent the warpaint. Other than mascara. I just can’t face the day without a little something on my eyelashes. And I didn’t think about my hair. I just knotted it up. Yes, I DO occasionally try to do something with it! I know that surprises some of you, judging by what it looks like most of the time. Bite me. You try having curly hair for 40 years. Eventually, around year 25, you just surrender. It’s not that important.
As I’ve caught my reflection at different times today, I start with a smile, which made me feel a little goofy the first few times. Then I remember Angela. I say a quick reaffirmation prayer for her. And I say something to me: how my brain is quick, how my words are sure, how distinctly different I am for being able to write so that it touches others’ souls. (I know I touch you!! You tell me and I cry!!!) I tell myself I make a significant difference in so many people’s lives (again, I know this because people tell me). It gets harder to find something new that doesn’t have anything to do with my appearance every time I go to the mirror. It is unavoidable at work. I can’t just avert my eyes when I go in the restroom. This last time I told myself I was strong. I can’t be thankful for my forgiving nature, because that part of me needs definite work. Y’all can pray for me in that aspect, if you feel led to do so. See? I don’t even want to ask for it because I’m so stubborn and want to stay mad. That’s not good. I guess I could avoid the mirror, but that defeats the purpose and I don’t ever want somebody saying I shirked work.
I am worthy.
It wasn’t my fault.
I am entertaining.
I pee a lot. Shouldn’t have had that coffee.
Dear Beth asked me to remember that I see wonderful things in others that they think no one notices. This surprised me. I think your qualities are front and center and unavoidable! Maybe people notice and are afraid to say so.
So maybe that’s it. Maybe we should always tell each other how much we care for and appreciate another being, that way they can tell it to themselves so they can believe it. Maybe that’s part of why some people commit suicide, they think they don’t matter enough to anyone else. I, myself, could never live with the guilt of leaving those behind that would question if they could have done more. Southern Guilt will getcha every time.
I am special, God made me to serve some purpose.
I looked at myself in the mirror by accident while I was waiting for my gas tank to fill and had to come up with another’n. I am resilient. Nothing has killed me this far.
I am empathetic.
I am true.
I am loud and proud.
I won’t bore you with any further comments on my character but this will go on until midnight.
I hope you will take time for yourself to stand still a moment today. It’s almost spring; listen for the birds. Look for things blooming and trees budding and the shock of green. It happens overnight. Find something God made to be thankful for. If nothing else, be glad for your eyes to see it, or your ears to hear it, and legs to stand on to appreciate it. Breathe in. Close your eyes. Stretch your arms up. Breathe out….and open your eyes to see if anybody’s caught you. If they’re staring, smile great big and wave. Because what they think doesn’t matter. And you’re showing them you’re happy with your gift of being alive. Maybe you’ll meet a new friend in this fashion.
We can all use one more.
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
Y’all are gonna crack up. I’ve really challenged myself today.
My dear friend Rhonda, who is the director of our tee-totally fabulous library system, is who I am honoring and praying for especially today.
Rhonda and I could not be more different.
She has spent her life serving the poor, the needy, and last but not least, her children….who are also poor and needy, come to think of it {looking at you, Miss Caroline!!}. Rhonda is a levelheaded and terrific friend, a wonderful cook and homemaker, a Disney Aficionado, and a stalwart leader of many. She has a ready smile or a cocked eyebrow, depending on the discussion.
Baker, Beth, and I are just a little bit scared of her.
So anyway. It should surprise no one that her prayer request, first and foremost, was for her children. She has sent them both off to college, and while Logan has completed his degree and returned home safe and sound and created a family of his own, Rhonda worries. There is no end to the worrying. While she dotes on her little princess of a grandchild, she worries about things that are not even in her control (she also thinks about bows, but that’s neither here nor there). Caroline, on the other hand, has gone off into the big dangerous city of Knoxville (insert derisive snort here) and has left Miss Rhonda with a bit of empty nest syndrome.
It’s really not funny. For someone who built their whole world around these children, I know her heart is sore. We tried to drown the pain with some of our favorite fruity (or spicy, in Rhonda’s case) adult beverages a few times but the funny thing about being heartsick is the pain always returns. You can’t stop worrying any more than you can stop loving and unfortunately the two go hand in hand. She even worried last summer that Caroline had been eaten by a shark because she was out of her sight for approximately nineteen seconds. Yes, the three of us ridiculed her mercilessly about that for some time, always ending with, “But seriously, what are you gonna do when she leaves for college?”
What she did was what all good mothers do, whether they admit it or not= wad up on the couch watching sappy movies, constantly texting her daughter to check in, and baking for all the people in her life. Oh, and it goes without saying, crying in the shower.
The struggle is real.
Caroline is her sparkles, she says it all the time. And I say, thank God for that grandbaby a few miles down the road.
So today I pray that the Good Lord will watch over Caroline every day for the rest of her life, to be there with her because her momma physically can’t. Please ease Rhonda’s worries that she will leave this Earth before either one of them are ready. I ask for a hedge of protection around Caroline especially, Lord, as she dances and frolics her long-legged way around campus and her future endeavors. On every road, river, camel, train, and airplane, be wholly with her Lord. I ask that you give Rhonda’s heart peace that she is safe in your hands. Please guide Caroline, Logan, Leanna, and Fiona all the days of their lives and make sure they know that You are with them ALWAYS. They will never be alone, as long as they have You. And You never leave, as long as they seek You. I pray that they will all go on to live fruitful lives, leading others to You through their light. I pray that Rhonda and her children remain healthy and happy and will live long prosperous lives, always seeking You first for their decisions. I ask for favor and blessings on them as they pursue their dreams. I thank You for the gift of my friend, Rhonda, and her pure servant’s heart. I pray that she will always do as it pleases you, Lord, and to put the needs of her patrons above any red tape that she constantly battles. I pray her legs to be swift and her arms to be soft when helping children, guarding them against the evil in our public spaces as she opens doors to dimensions through her work in the library. I ask for plentiful funding to keep the building warm and the doors open to all that need it. (She didn’t ask me to pray for that, but I know she wants to). Because librarians and libraries change lives. They sure changed mine. This set in particular. I love her so, Lord, and I ask you keep her safe until you need her with you. Thank you for my true friend and ally. In Jesus name. Amen.
Now that I’m crying…
I asked her what she wanted me to fast. I was ready for something super imaginative and totally weird. Imagine my surprise when she said for me to pick it, because I knew best what I would benefit from.
So it would be no easy sacrifice. I had to hunt a hard to swallow pill.
And once I landed on it, I was unable to shake it. So I knew it was the right thing to do.
Today I will list ten things that give me hope in the next generation.
I thought I would go over to the library before spin to observe and get ideas, but that’s just like jabbing myself in the eye. And I didn’t want to get my blood pressure up and then go give myself a stroke. I can do this.
- I have hope that the children of today will be active conservationists, creating less waste and being more mindful of what pollutants we distribute into the land, water, and air.
- I have faith that the next generation will continue to grow technology and always be at the forefront of industry.
- I believe that the children of today will practice tolerance and acceptance into their adult lives.
- I have seen proof that kids will always seek an escape through books, and they will encourage their children to read.
- I pray that this group will remember that bullying is not a means to get what you want, but all things come through the Grace of God and perseverance.
- I pray that this generation will remember to always invoke the freedom of speech and the right to keep and bear arms. I also pray they research both political party’s agendas and make INFORMED votes, not just breeze through on what they hear from popular media sources.
- I pray that they remember to pray regularly.
- I pray that they will be strong enough to serve as soldiers and leaders and know when to take the keys away from Grandma.
- I hope that they will feel the reward of good deeds and acting as servants to those less fortunate, and practice good manners at every turn.
- I do so wish that they have to make their own way, and know the value of a dollar through hard work and due diligence.
I realize I may have cheated a little, but let me tell you, I was STRUGGLING. I can’t help it. I don’t have any first hand experience with kids (praise God!) so I had to base my thoughts off the handful I see on occasion. And not even all them give me hope, I’m sorry to say. Several would benefit from a switch. But anyway. I did it.
A quote from a church sign down the road from me one year ago today:
“If you can’t be thankful for what you have, be thankful for what you’ve escaped.”
Let me add here, it has come to my attention sometimes as I pray I feel guilty for expressing my so-called needs. To many people in this world they would be wants. Rhonda felt this way. I’m no preacher, but I say pray for whatever your heart leads you to pray for. Our struggles may be different day to day, year to year. But if it eases your heart and your mind to pray for something, by all means, DO IT. If nothing more than to just get in the habit. And don’t be ashamed to ask people to pray for you. It is an honor and a blessing to pray for my friends, and I believe all Christians feel the same. Pray for your dog, be thankful for your full belly, ask for protection of our leaders, and a clear mind with your eyes on the One, and I think you’ll be in good shape. But what do I know? I’m just a sinner with a head full of dreams. Don’t look to me, look to the Good Book.
Till tomorrow, y’all,
Love from Appalachia,
Amy xoxo
Namaste.
I’ve had this eye twitch for some time now. It’s really an aggravation. Everybody asks what I’m stressed about, and while I could give you one big reason, it’s not really a reason at all. Time marches on. And as Dolly says, you’ll soon realize it’s marching right across your face.
About a year ago, I attended a book signing at my favorite library. Well, that’s a bit of a lie. My favorite library is my personal library here at home, followed by Biltmore’s library. So, my third favorite library. But don’t tell Rhonda!!! I picked my seat next to a friendly looking stranger. I pegged her as a mom, stealing a few hours away from her kids. She seemed intelligent and normal enough.
Turns out, I chose wisely, even if I didn’t read her life right.
Today, I count her among my three closest friends. It’s amazing how you can bond with people when they’re open and honest and quite literally THERE for you. She is zero drama, 100% no judgment, and so funny I almost pee my pants every time we go out. She looks at me over those red rimmed glasses with her hair back in a knot, like, “Are you shittin’ me, Smalls?” I can quite clearly read her expression through text messages. I know by her pauses if there’s a punchline or a bombshell. And I know what she looks like as she reads these words.
Hi, Beth!
She’s the voice of reason when I’m going off the rails and she’ll talk me back down because murder is never a good idea. She has this great understanding of the world at large. No problem is too great; life is too short. She’s got a solution for every train wreck. I would definitely want her nearby in a crisis. I am so thankful we’re on this planet together. I can barely remember what my life was like before she entered it.
So today, I dedicate my Lent to Beth.
I’m a textbook worrier. And her request is to let go of worry. So today is another challenge for me. I’m trying to stay busy with some writing, reading, and virtual farming so my thoughts don’t have time to go a-wonderin’. I’m also attempting to watch where my thought pattern leads. It doesn’t take long for me to be a million miles away, down some rabbit hole of made up scenarios and have the sky falling.
Speaking of sky: I was stretching my neck and looking around the room where I write deciding about where I would put my old bookshelves and noticed a water stain on the ceiling. I’ve never had a water stain. This is troubling. But then I remembered, I am not to worry. I’m just gonna drag a ladder over to the corner of the house here and see what I can see. I can do that. I used to climb on my Mamaw’s roof all the time and sit up there and read with my cat.
So I did it. I think every pore on me was sweating, but I did it. I didn’t accomplish not one thing, unless you want to count not falling off the roof an accomplishment. I do. I didn’t find leaves in the gutter, surprisingly. I guess it’ll be okay. This old house….always so much to do to keep it from crumbling. I need to waterproof the basement walls again. I dread it. I hate painting. But no. That’s another worry and it will just have to be done.
It’s amazingly easy to let your thoughts run rampant. It doesn’t surprise me how often I have to rein myself back in. So I’m working on that.
In the meantime, I’m trying to send “positive vibes” into the atmosphere for Beth. She’s all about peaceful energy, things that spark joy, and creating space for good things to happen. She turned me onto yoga! And spin! Baker had been on me for eons to come to spin but I thought no way, I hiked with you, if you spin like you hike, I will die. Plain and simple. But Beth talked me down, talked me into coming, and essentially made it fun so we have something to whine about together while we try to better ourselves. And this yoga business, well, I’ve only been after it four days, but I can see how it changes people’s lives. Here’s a link to the first one I did- it’s super easy and short. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1097wYhDOY
But I’m a firm believer you have to be ready to change and want to do things differently before it will influence you. We’re all searching for more- a better understanding of people or the world at large. Explanations why good things happen to bad people and vice versa. I read once that we’re all a villain in someone’s story. That’s hard to think about. I know I have several enemies, but I don’t dwell on it, because I turned them lose the minute they showed their true colors. But back to yoga. It really does make you feel differently, both inside your head and out. You become aware. So I’m glad I’m doing it, along with practicing Lent. I’m trying to become a better me. With all the centered breathing and stretching you do, it almost feels like getting to your feet after a massage. I’m not kidding, it’s that good! And I’m probably not even doing half of it right, but I’m telling you, it’s beneficial. I was at my hairdresser’s yesterday and was talking to her about it. She wears an Apple watch and it dings reminding her to breathe. Now tell ME she wouldn’t benefit from some yoga! When your watch senses you’re not breathing deeply enough and it’s important enough to send you a notification, that seems fairly major. There’s a class right down the road from us that we may join. We’ll see. But maybe she’ll pick up the YouTube yoga I posted. Adriene will not steer you wrong!
While we’re sending cheerful thoughts out there for Beth, I also want to remember an associate of hers who is struggling with an addiction issue. She seeks wisdom through the wise Beth, but then brushes it off with those hurtful words, “You don’t know anything about it”. Well, as far as this chick knows, she’s right. But what she doesn’t know makes her so incredibly wrong. Beth has overcome so much adversity in her life, has risen above a thousand things that could have made her wither and die. It would be paralyzing to most of us. But she made a conscious decision to go on, to be better, to find her path. It makes me angry to think of how that girl disregarded some sound advice from a loving friend. But…. it’s not my job to worry! I’m turning that over to the Lord as well.
So join me in praying for Beth, to bring her peace and more wisdom so she can bestow it on those who are smart enough to listen to her. Send her some energy for all these spin classes and some discernment for dealing with people who are just out to drain her. She’s an expert at dealing with catty women, but her heart is soft for people who need help. While we’re at it, I’m going to pray for that sort-of neighbor of hers, who is battling alcoholism. Actually, she’s not battling it at all, she’s fully embracing it while in the back of her mind knows she needs to claw her way out. I pray she reaches for the rope Beth has cast her. I pray she comes around before she loses something that can never be regained. I also want to send some prayers up for Beth’s bestie, whom I will not name, but just needs all the strength we can send her. That girl. I would have already run screaming stark naked into the woods, never to be heard from again. Lift all these ladies in prayer, if you would. They are all deserving of the rewards and promises of our Heaven and Lord.
Oh, and one more thing that I forgot to add so I’ve come back. Her sweet kitty Sage is getting up there in age and Beth needs a lot of kind thoughts to transition for when his time comes. She’s had him since he was a kitten, and he picked her. He picks her every time with his perfect (or should I say pawfect?) love. This cat has a good portion of her heart and it will be hard to let him go. You don’t get a pet thinking about that day, or you’d never be able to love them completely. So prayers for sweet, confident Sage as he goes on his journey too. Let it be easy. Lessen her pain, Lord. And bring them both peace. Thank you for putting this cat in her life, to help her through all the ups and downs and letting him be her constant. Thank you for the unconditional love of one of your creatures.
The window in front of where I write is open and it’s wonderful. I wanted to hike today, but I couldn’t find a soul to accompany me. See, this is why I struggle on beautiful days. I never have this problem on gloomy days. Nobody expects me to be active when it’s 36° and pouring the rain. But while I would be content to sit here and write all day, a part of me wants to climb House Mountain. It’s seventy and sunny and clear. After all this rain the ground would be springy and the streams would be running full tilt. You could see for miles with all the leaves off the trees, and wildflowers would be beginning to bloom. I could, technically, go alone. I used to all the time but I’m older now and also….I’ve been reading true crime. I’m not as brave as I once was. Maybe next week. Don’t tell the murderers.
So this was my Lenten journey today. Yaaaaaaaay, Beth!
Yay indeed.
Sugar has never tasted so good.
One thing for certain, I would never make it in a survival situation.
This morning I couldn’t wait to down my white chocolate mocha Starbucks drink. And then I fixed me a big cheesy omelet. I would like to say I enjoyed every bite but my eyes were bigger than my belly and I got a little carried away with peppers and bacon bits.
So anyway, you’ve probably deduced that today’s fast isn’t sugar or dairy. Praise be to God! Today it’s merely liquor, at the request of my Uncle Dale. He stipulated that it must be done on a Saturday. Clearly, he doesn’t know me at all, because I rarely drink on Saturdays; I clean.
Today was no exception. But I also had a hair appointment. I was about to have to start wearing a hat everywhere I went because my gray is REALLY BAD.
So I’m at the salon, and I go to throw something away and notice what looks like bacon in the trash can!!
See it? There at the bottom? And I’m like, who throws away bacon?!? And I turn to Christy and ask her why there’s bacon in her garbage can. I am thoroughly baffled.
And she’s like, “I threw away my gloves from when I mixed your hair dye, that’s probably what you’re seeing.”
And you know what? She was right. And you know what else? My HAIR looks like bacon! Now tell me, who doesn’t love my hair?
Because you can’t love bacon and not love my hair. And EVERYBODY loves bacon.
But anyway.
It’s a relief is what it is to be back to my terrible-bad eating habits. Isn’t that awful? My eyes should be on God but instead I’m being all sloth-like and eating everything in sight.
So my prayers today are for my Uncle Dale. What he needs most, in my opinion, are help with his legs and feet. I know it’s frustrating for him not to be able to jump up and go and do like he was able to for so long. He was always so active, hunting and fishing and gardening and now he has to be content with mechanicing– that is, putting a rear end in his Lazy Boy.
That’s one of his favorite jokes, you know.
So. If the Lord sees fit, please help him with better movement in his legs and feet. Please guide him to be patient on all things out of his control and to understand that not all people are quite so swift with numbers. Please use him as an instrument, Lord, for when others are ailing to show that cancer can be beat. He blesses most everyone he comes in contact with, with his good humor and twinkling blue eyes. Heal his heart, Lord, as he has lost many good friends in the past few years. I know it must be hard not having your core group of people who have known you their whole life. He has been a supporter of me since I was just a runty little wormy kid, teaching me about the outdoors and wildlife and how to behave. He showed me how to clean a fish when I wasn’t even big enough to see on the table, we had to drag a chair over. He taught me how to throw a frisbee, teach my dog to sit, and shoot guns. I hung around while he processed deer and we watched Twilight Zone episodes into the wee hours. He taught me how good Oreos are, and caramel, and how to take a joke but dish it back out, too. I learned to always, always carry a pocket knife and to count my change when the cashier hands it back to me. He taught me all about fishing and just all the little things that constantly arise. He has been a blessing to me, no doubt about it. He is always on my side.
And a good one to have in my corner, I might add, seeing as how he’s over 6’4″ and 300 pounds. (Well, he’s shrunk a little in recent years, but not that much). Here’s one of him at Christmas showing Kylar how to make a slime ball. I was about that age when I didn’t get my My Little Pony kite.
(For those of you that don’t know, that has been a thorn in his side for most of my life. It’s wonderful to irk him through all the years.)
He can’t understand why I’m doing Lent, since it’s not much fun. It’s not ABOUT fun, me and aunt Bren tried to tell him.
There was very little danger of me drinking today, but he wants to keep me safe and home and not even drink two beers if I’m out. And that’s good advice. So I take it.
Happy Lent, my friends! Go forward, be blessed, and be a blessing to all those you meet!
