Fall, Glorious Fall

For what it's worth, Fall is my most favorite of the four Seasons. The colors, the smells, the fruits and vegetables, the crisp, cool air. I hate the heat of summer. I long for the 75 degree days with a nice breeze. To me, those are the most comfortable of days. Fall brings the best sleeping weather.

I love to curl up in a sweater in an old, soft pair of jeans by the fire. Either it be on the deck out back or inside. Roasting marshmallows with the kids and making cocoa. (note to self, get hazlenut extract and give my recipe for the best homemade cocoa!) mmmmmm!

Those gourds up on top; I grew them! I did, just threw the seeds out by my fence, and up came gourds. Easiest thing on earth to grow. No need to do anything. at. all. The kids and I had fun watching them grow. They are adorable.

This mum is extremely large. Notice how small Rocco looks behind it. Mums are by far, my favorite plants; their colors are just so vibrant. Especially on one of days when you get a dark cloud and some blue sky combined. Beautiful. Love the contrast.

Oh look, there's one of our little white pumpkins. We ended up with four of those little babies. I'm going to carve one today, and put some mums in for a centerpiece. I usually do this with an orange one, but I just love these little white guys. I know where our pumpkin patch will be next year. I am currently looking to get one of those blue type to grow. Why just stick to the ordinary. I am so far from ordinary.

One of these days, this cutie is going to be part of a pond. One of these days. Thanks, Joe. I love this piece.

So, eat your heart out Martha. I can grow Mums, too. And gourds. As a matter of fact, that's what they used to call me. Martha. I'll probably get some of that tomorrow because I put some leaves under my candles and put gourdes in a basket. Anyone can do that.

Tomorrow we will celebrate Lexi's birthday. She will help me make Apple Cake, my recipe. It's yummy. I made one just this week, it was delicious. Just ask..........

him! No mistake really why that container in the background is there. It's for him. No mistake, either why he's not looking at the camera when I was taking the picture. I was saying, "APPLE CAKE!" Which I made on Thursday, for my family. He is NOT family - he is dog - we are the people, alpha. Cesar says so. Big, brainless idiot must relearn his place in the tree. Again.

Typically, in the afternoon if I'm not feeling good and I lay down, he's right there with me. Typically. I go to my room, he follows. I insert my earplugs, lay down, cover up, and off I (yawn) go. He very sneakily, and quietly goes out of the room, down the stairs, tip-toeing, so as not to be heard by my very sleepily and plugged ears; jumps up on the buffet and decides to DEVOUR THE ENTIRE REMAINING CONTENTS OF SAID FREAKING CAKE!! BANG! SMASH!! Goes a very old, and just polished silver coffee urn onto the dining room floor. Too bad it didn't hit his stupid big paw and smash IT and make him yelp and learn a whole new lesson! NO! Of course not. But I heard it. AND I knew exactly what it was. MY CAKE!! Out go the ear plugs.

By now, of course and as always, I'm dizzy, but I manage to run down the stairs. He doesn't give a crap. IDIOT! Good thing he had his prong on, and I used it. Down he went, licking his stupid big and foaming, apple smelling lips. Damn dog. I fall over him, forgetting I'm dizzy, and now seeing stars, then nothing. Go. back. to. bed. I hate that loyal idiot some times. This, I'm thinking will be used as bait; however, when Frank tells me how much he wants one of offspring. That I so don't want. DON'T want. As in do NOT want. In the big negative form.

I love that commercial where the guy is on the phone with his surgeon, telling him to make a vertical incision - you know where I'm going don't you. I think I just may call my aunt and ask her to gently (riiiight) guide me through it. Oh get off my back PETA. It was an awesome cake!

Ok, Emily, this one is for you!

Size 6. Payless. Oh, so comfortable!

Deborah

Happy Birthday, Lexi

Today is Lexi's 19th birthday. Happy Birthday, Lexi! This other pic is of Bri, who lives with her. We have taken on Bri as our own. She and Lexi took to each other right away, and the kids all took to Bri, and we all took to Bri - she's wonderful.

I cannot believe my Lexi is 19 today. Look at that face. Pure sweetness and joy. I can't believe I have a child that is 19 years old; it doesn't seem right. She doesn't look 19 or certainly seem 19. That must be why. Hey, I. don't. LOOK. like I have a child that age, ahem. do I? anyway,

I cannot wait to celebrate her birthday with her.

Special Child

by Sharon Harris

You weren't like other children,

And God was well aware,

You'd need a caring family,

With love enough to share.

And so He sent you to us,

And much to our surprise,

You haven't been a challenge,

But a blessing in disguise.

Your winning smiles and laughter,

The pleasures you impart,

Far outweigh your special needs,

And melt the coldest heart.

We're proud that we've been chosen,

To help you learn and grow,

The joy that you have brought us,

Is more than you can know.

A precious gift from Heaven,

A treasure from above,

A child who's taught us many things,

But most of all - "Real Love."

Wishing you all a painfree and safe weekend

Deborah

The Gifts of Women

Women are blessed with many different gifts. Some material. Some Spiritual. Some are blessed with the gifts of children. Some without. Those of us with children can understand, sometimes wish for, both. Those without, only long for the gifts of a childs loving arms to hold. Never knowing, or understanding the heartbreak that also comes with it. Sometimes more heartache and frustration than the joy we hoped for.

There are other gifts, too; compassion, concern, contentment. And thouth we long for these qualities when we see them through another, we, too have our own gifts; patience, persistence, peace.

Compassion is the woman who has enough concern for others, that she's content to listen. Patience is the woman who sits persistently and prays for peace in another's broken world.

Some women are gifted with the ability to teach, others to learn. Some with the gift to cook, others to eat. Some, with the gift to sing, others to play an instrument. And some with the gifts to do both, well. These are gifts I appreciate and admire.

Some women are so gifted, they are the student, the teacher, the parent, the cook, all in one beautiful woman; who, at the end of the day, can plan for, prepare and put on an elaborate banquet, witout blinking an eye. And before going to bed; prays for her family, her freiends, her church, her neighbors, and lastly, herself. This woman is the gift of Selflesness.

Some women have the gift to paint the beautiful pictures of her imagination. Oh, if we could all paint what our minds see. Some can draw the thoughts of each day. The fears of night. The joys of life. This woman is the gift of Serenity.

Some women have the gift of Missions. She answered the Lord's call to serve Him on foreign land. On home land. She serves the teacher, as she teaches, herself. She serves the learner; and is also learning to serve. She is the gift of Servant.

Women with the gift to write, take us on adventures we may never otherwise would have gone. Tell of others, not unlike ourselves, and their testimonies, their stories, trials, failures and joys. They inspire us with words and phrases, mental journeys. Sometimes a rollercoaster, or a thriller, or a tranquil walk. She is the gift of Tranquility.

Some women have the gift to simply be there. When you call her because your world is a mess, she answers the phone and listens. When you're sick and have no energy to get out of bed, she brings you, herself, ginger-ale and a smile. And when something wonderful happens in your world, she is there to praise God for it with you. She is the gift of Humility.

The gifts are given to us by our Lord. We must remember to use them and cherish them for His glory. And though we may not share the same gifts, we share each others.

And so, We must love and respect each others precious gifts. These are the gifts of women.

Written June-1997

In many ways, I was in a different place in my life 10 years ago. I am currently struggling spiritually; I do believe we are in a major spiritual warfare crisis! Just look around folks. But I'm working on it.

As far as my health goes, it's currently plummetting. again. I need to take control of that. AGAIN.

The dog is whining in his crate. it's pitiful and funny and irritating at the same time.

Ever feel like you want to kill something/someone and snuggle them at the exact same time? Hypothetically of course!

Lucky for you - my stupid camera light is blinking RED again. I was going to put great pix in from the weekend, to. I guess tomorrow.

Deborah

Should you drive with a migraine? Rather, do YOU drive when you haven't been able to get away from your current raging case of the beast? What happens when there is no alternative? When you have to bite the bullet?



It's a very scary task, indeed, in my life. In all reality, and in all all seriousness, I try my best to stay away from the road when I'm feeling like I have been. With the exception of lastnight, the last time I remember driving, wow, I can't! It's been a long time. Weeks, perhaps 3, maybe 4. I think it may have been Delta Sonic. OOOH.

Anyway; Frank went to get Rocco with Marisa and dropped Nick off at AWANA on his way. He figured he might have time to pick him up on his way home, but he didn't. So, Christina and I set out for him. A very interesting ride, indeed.

You know it's going to be fun when you can't decipher the red/green differential at the light. Hmm, stay or go? Ever been in that dilemma in a migraine? It totally blows. But I needed to get my son; "Focus, Deb. G G G green is go." That is what the voice in my head was saying.

Oh the fun of it all. We get behind a schoolbus, that drops bags as it turned into our lane. So, naturally, it stopped traffic,to retrieve the said bags; which doesn't bother me, but irritates the fast-paced life of the man 3 cars behind me. He feels the need to fly by me, on the left, in the wrong lane, to get to his little life that can't wait.

What is UP with people? Everyone is in such a hurry. And not a nice hurry, a MAD hurry. This was a school bus, that dropped school back packs; and kids got off to pick them up. And here is this mad man flying up the middle of the lane, 20MPH zone by the way, and he wasn't going no 20MPH; no wonder kids are shooting at each other. Well, that and the lack of God in their little lives. Another post.

I made it to church to pick up Nicholas, luckily. But, I now have to go to, yeah, I still have to go to somewhere else. The store.

This is the time [Migraine time] when I can't put a complete thought together without strain. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how long this post took. A migraineur will. Decision-making, forget it. I just look to whomever is with me, literally, and tell them to decide for me; because I am unable to make a decision at this very moment.

There are those of you out there who know exactly what I'm talking about. Frank calls it my "Kid in the candy store syndrome." I will go to the store with him, we'll separate, he will fill his cart, he'll come back to where I was standing, and I'm still just standing and staring. Nothing in my cart. Can't decide what I want, or really, what I was there for. It would be easier if the product would just speak for me, or to me. I am, afterall, there for the listening.

He used to get angry and/or frustrated; thankfully, now he just sort of goes with it. Takes my hand, smiles or laughs and tries to make light of it. Lastnight; however, I dragged Christina with me. I needed someone. Unfortunately, we had Nicholas with us. Not a good thing. He was powered up with the Holy Spirit. Not really. He was just powered up!! I was like a kid in a candy store, he was like a kid on candy - and Christina, well, she had to play the part of parent. At 12. Poor kid.

Me, "What are we here for?"

12yr old parent; "We need bread, blah blah blah da da da ta ta da ada dddd dee dee dee dee d dzzzzzzzzzz"

Well, that's pretty much what I heard once I got into the store with it's ultra violet lighting; it set off the rockets red glare sound effects in my stinking EARS!!

I KNOW, WHY DON'T THEY MAKE A MIGRAINE SAFE SHOPPING AREA!!!! huh, why not?? Is it so much to ask???

She also needed to get her "things" for her science project. (Oh, now I had to think)! ribosomes? protoplasms? fava beans, .......

Lest I forget to mention, the sweet little man, the very powered-up little guy that I have been missing during the day, yeah that one. I don't miss him in the grocery store. Matter of fact, I desire my own time in the grocery store most times. This is not one of them. Tonight power boy is not himself either, no no, he has decided to be "Canihav," and I am not sure I like this child so much.

As in: Speed talk powered up, mind you, "Mom, canihav?" holding up box of Cocoa Crispi's.
"No, Nick. I'm buying the Apple oatmeal you asked me to buy AND the waffles."
"MOM, canihav?" now he's flashing eyebrows and smiling at me with bag of goldfish.
"No. Please, Nick, let's go. I got these." Pointing to yummy bananas. mmmmm
"Mom, canihav?" shows me Airheads. and says, and this is cute. "I'll LET you buy my sisters one!" and flashes more smiles and eyebrows.
"MOM!! canihav a balloon? canihav gum? canihav candy?"
"Nick NOCKITOFF"

To the shampoo aisle. "Please just pick me a shampoo and let's get out of here!" that was me.

And after what seemed like an eternity, we made it to the car, Frank's car, which I don't normally drive. Now, it's raining. Of course it's raining. It's also dark. Two things which make it very hard to drive. for me anyway. We get it loaded up, get in. I start it and notice that the brake light is on. Weird. So where is the brake release? I turn the inside lights on, which, of course are not nearly bright enough to display leg area. Nice. I feel a lever, oh, this must be it, I pull and hear a click. Hmmm, light doesn't go off. Which means, the hood just opened. Great! I feel yet another lever. Yep, pull, and presto, light off. Yippee freakin' doo. The blonde (which she is now) is laughing at me. I would be, too. Get out of car, in the pouring rain, slam stupid hood. Off. we. go.

7pm, yeah - 7 P! M! I kept looking at the clock wondering if it was correct. They were out washing the dirty dog; and by dirty, I am so totally underestimating that word. When they picked him up, apparently, the whites of his paws did not exist. AND they forgot the camera. So no pictures of Sweetie. Cinderisa's fault. She got to wash him at the dogwash while Frank filled the van for me. But because it was raining, he didn't get it washed. That may happen today. I sure hope so, because they said he smelled like poo. I will not get in my van with any smell. ANY. SMELL.

I have been carrying a Febreeze bottle with me lately because of my head. The little tree dangling air freshners are too strong for me right now. But the Febreeze, I can handle that. If I start gagging at something, I just spray it. In fact, I've actually been sort of toting it from van to house now that I think of it. Sick.

Well, my attempts at infusion have been a failure, so I'm going to try the cryo procedure again. I'm scheduled for the 22nd, and I just don't know if I can even hold on that long. The new med was helping me sleep until about 4 this morning when this boulder hit me square in the face. It's been slamming me over and over and over overoverover and over since. I'm sure some of it may be due to the weather?? Although, we did have great weather last week and it was like this. I just don't know.

Hoping you have a painfree day
Deborah

The Valley

There's a place where I have journeyed,
When my life has been a mess;
Where rocks and thorns and serpents dwell,
Where I feel such emptiness.
And all around me; grief and woe,
And pity upon my soul,
I'm at my lowest place in life,
A deep and dark black hole.
The Valley, yes, that's where I am,
When feeling dark as night;
But if I simply raise my eyes,
Drink in the Heaven's sight;
I see the beauty all around,
That His hands made for me:
And I remember how He loved;
He died to set us free.
I'll never know the pain my Lord
Had suffered for my sin,
But my sadness simply vanishes,
When I think of the cross and Him.
Somehow, the Valley seems to have
A healing sense for me,
And I learn each time to look around
At the wonderous , great Valley.

I wrote that in June of '97; and I'm not sure if I've posted this poem or not. Regardless, I'm using it for self-help, so to speak. Again. Funny how the Lord can minister to us, and then tap us on the shoulder, and remind us with his boot in the behind, (humor) that He's still there for us. No matter what.

So maybe you're in a valley, on the bottom; look up and around you. There really are some pretty sights to behold. I can allow myself to get down in my constant agony of pain, which it is, but today, I enjoyed the colors of my gorgeous Mums. Delightful. I know, trivial, isn't it! Don't you wish you could be me!? Just wait until you see the pictures. I know you want to.

Time to fling a rubberband at the sleeping kitty.
Deborah

Some Home Improvements

This is the rather large and garish chandelliere that used to hang in my dining room. Though it did dispense the light quite nicely, I hated it. HATED. IT. With a passion. Detested this light; and would pretty much let everyone know each time I'd turn it on.

Now, this is the one we had put in! It matches my furniture, which is more Mission style, than the oh, what would you call that?? Anyway, light off.

Light on. Those doors in the background, they are being replaced with sliders. Right now they open up to the deck outside; which is nice, BUT, it doesn't work so well for insulation purposes. Another story.

The shy guy that installed the light for us, is this guy. Thanks Philipe! He also installed the kitchen light and fan duo, which we desperately needed. (By the way, he is single) And I've been trying for a long time to pawn him off to unsuspecting female friends. Very nice guy.

On another interesting note; Marisa made a new little friend.

This adorable dragonfly danced and fluttered on her leg for a good 10 minutes. He looked up at her, tilted his head in amazement at her beauty; because, well, she does resemble her Mom's good looks (flashing my eyelashes). No? Si. Si. Sorry, I just took a call from Zio Corrado from Italy! UGH, I miss him!

Back to the dragonfly - he adored Cinderisa, she adored him; I adored all of it, and then! Drum roll please!!!!!

SPOTTED! BY THE HUNTER KITTY. In reality, he should be wearing a helmet. {note to self - get this cat on video} Cinderisa was afraid she was going to be scratched by Bosco, not really going to happen, and he thought he had something interesting to catch.

This kitty has "stupid is as stupid does" issues. And that is why we love him so much. He's big, he's loud, in Meow only, though. For a big cat, and I do mean, big! At a whopping 20 pounds of fur ball, he talks and talks until you either feed him or let him in or out or in or out, he can never really decide which it is he wants. For real. But to hear this big boy purr, you need to get in really, really, really close because it is so small you almost can't hear the purring at all.

That goes for the hissing sound he makes, which I've only heard him make once. And that was when I had to put the toilet seat down - CAN YOU STAND IT?! YES, ME, AS IN A GIRL, HAVING TO PUT THE SEAT DOWN!!! Yeah, I know!! Maybe that's why he made that little psss sound. It was very cute. It scared him, and I didn't slam it or anything, which, you know, I should have, cause, I had to, you know, touch the seat and all. I just gently put. it. down. IS IT THAT HARD!!! BOYS???

Back to the cute friggin dragonfly that got away, the toilet seat, no, the cat stared it down and scared the living daylights out of it. Yep, that's what happened. NOW. all of a sudden, it's breakfast time. RIGHT NOW, not in a few minutes when I'm good and ready. NOW. nownowNOW. bicker bicker bicker.

Is it just my little part of the world, really, or is every living room in America crawling with children - siblings - that want to just rip each others throats out, with forks and knives? AND. AND!! Feed their guts to starving countries because they are feeling the need to be um GIVING!!?? Seriously, I am sooooo frigging tired of hearing these lines: and tell me if it's just me, cause I'm really going out on a crazy limb here.

"Mom, will you please tell him to stop it!"

"He's such a brat"

"I can't stand you!"

"They're being mean to me"

"You can't make me"

I can't go on with anymore, I'm starting to hyperventilate. Thankfully, they go back to school tomorrow. I think today, I will take them apple bombing picking. Drag them behind Go on a tractor pull.

What is wrong with me today??? Must be the med I'm on. That is what I'm chalking it up to anyway. Nasty nasty. Snappy, short answers. Iritated. I need a mini vaca. I need a day off from my head splitting is what I really need. Maybe that is what's getting at me. I feel like a big nasty pimple getting ready to 'splode.

Heh, remember John Belushi in Animal House, when he put he Mashed Potatoes in his mouth and asked, "What am I?" - Yea, that is how I am feeling inside! OOoooh, nerve-tingling, and head-pounding kind of stuff! I'm just tired of it; and I'm trying to hold it down with humor, and it's slowly slipping away.

But there are at least some things in my home getting done. We will be getting some new doors and windows updated. We just had our rooves (is that right?) insulated. They tell us it will save us over $100. 00 a month in heating this winter. CHA-CHING! I sure hope so.

You will see my new doors here. Unfortunately, the man with the jackhammer is coming back to do the small room in the basement. I'm eagerly awaiting his arrival, (with a paintball gun and, oh, nevermind) {hi Frankie} :} It seems as though one of the rooms in the lower level didn't get done when they were here in the spring. Banging away for 4 freaking days. But rest assured, Frank says it won't be so bad this time, because it's such a small room. okie doke then.

Coming up for air..........

My Sweet Little Table

A while back, we were walking down the Yellow Brick Road. No, no, no, that's not where I was going with this post.

Actually, I was going HERE ----> ------> -------> ------------>



This is how my cute little bargain garage sale table turned out. Isn't it cute! The glass knob is only temporary. I'm on the lookout for a red glass kanob. They do NOT exist in the current home department stores. So, when I'm feeling up to it, I will make it a point to get to the flea market one of these Sundays, it's been a very long time since I've been to a flea market. Very long time indeed.






This is what it used to look like. And this is what it looks like now. I'm pleased. Although, once I find the perfect kanob, I think it will be finished. I am feeling the need to scour the flea market tomorrow, regardless of how I feel today. You know, obsession thing.




I have a few more little projects waiting; the 6 foot long shelf. I think I may use that in my craft area for holding ribbon and books. Not sure yet.


Then there is the scroll-work shelf that used to belong to my Grandparents that Marisa has claimed. Not to mention, the three bedrooms that need to be changed around and re-decorated. Again. And the office is in major MAJOR need of an overhaul. Or a bulldozer. And some heavy-duty cinch sacks. some PODS and oh, I don't know, one of those trucks to just um, haul it all away. Start all over again.


You know, if the money tree out back grew anything at ALL like my parsley did - just sayin! I could actually do that!


I think I might just go to the flea market tomorrow. Yep, see if I can find a pretty red glass knob for my table. Because, to me, it just doesn't look all done yet. And, well, I'm obsessing. Can't have that.


Oh, my stud, Rocco, that is - is in Sterling with his new sweetheart. Studmuffin that he is! Frank should be home any minute now. I miss the big guy. He is going to stink something nasty when he comes home in a week! Rest assure, I will have pictures of Sweetie(that's her name) in a few days when we pick him up. Although, I may not go for that ride, as his stench will kill me! Looks like someone is getting a bath when he gets home.


Wishing you all a pain-free weekend.
Deborah

Loyalty and the Monster

This is what you call pure loyalty. I have labled the pictures as "Stupid Loyalty 1 & 2" however.

The lifeless body under the dog, is me. This was taken by Cinderisa on Monday. She found us this way when she came home from school. There was no panic in her or the beast. Notice the look of discontent as he is rudely awaken by the flash. (pic on the right)

Mind you, this cuddlebug weighs 100 pounds of solid muscle. His head, if you'll notice, is much larger than mine.

He is NOT allowed on the furniture. He does this when Frank is not around. And when I am not feeling well; or rather, when the monster is gripping my skull the way it has been.

Shortly after she took these pictures, Frank walked in, and apparently, Rocco knew his nap time on Momma was over.

What is it about me that makes him feel he must be on me when I feel the monster coming? He has done this since he was a puppy. He used to howl at me, and climb on me, nuzzling. I wasn't really in the mood to play, which is what I thought he was doing. But then I finally realized that he wasn't playing; he was consoling, if you will. And he still does, in his own weird, super-size way.

I must emit an odor or some strange electrical charge that he picks up; because he whines and he cries; and he'll just put his extra large head on me, looking up at me with those big green eyes. At the moment, I'm not wanting to be bothered, I'm just laying there, trying to find silence and sleep and the place where there is that moment of no pain; just an instance of it. Searching, seeking, not to be found.

I drift somewhere between sleep and awake as I search, and that must be when he makes his opportunity to approach me; whether it be on the couch, or in my bed. He is very sneakey for such a big, dopey dog. I suppose he feels he must be my protector, my comforter. Maybe he can see the monster that I feel enveloping my head. Maybe he hears what I hear, something like this:

The current beast I'm being infused for is sitting on my shoulders; he has his left hand wrapped around the front of my face, and right ear with his pointed finger nail, like a long roofing nail, inside my right ear. He keeps trying to make his way from the right ear through my head and outside of the left ear. The sound of a distant freight train can be heard each time he pushes this deeper and deeper in my ear.

Then there's the spike he is forcing in the top of my head as he tries to crank it open; unsuccessfully, I might add. With each dull and slow thud of each blow, comes the pain. Deeper and deeper until it reaches my neck.

I feel the metal band around the top of the temporal area now, getting tighter and tighter. He must feel the need to crank it up a notch now. Tighter and tighter and tighter it gets. I can sometimes hear his evil snear. Just what possesses him to torture us in this way? Get off my back! I can't see anything now; I'm not sure if it's the band, or the spike, but something has taken my sight. Wait, here it comes, no, just flashes of blue, brilliant blue sparkles.

Can you see it? Wait, no, never mind, it's gone. I know I saw it. It was right there in front of me like a spark or a flash of blue. Do you see them? Do you hear them? I wonder, does my dog? Is that why he feels the need to be such a loyal companion when the monster is so intent on making it's mark on my life.

My son asked me once, "Mom, do you see green squiggles when you sneeze?"

Could that be a pre-cursor to aura for him? I sure hope not. But, at the same time, I'm afraid I already know the answer to that fateful question. Just as I know I can't hide Cinderisa in a tower to keep her safe forever from her headaches migrating to something worse; I won't be able to keep their own monster's at bay, any better than my own.

Well, on a "Lucky Dog" note for Rocco!! We got a call from Glenn lastnight; the breeder we bought Rockhead from. It seems that his girlfriend is FINALLY in heat (and the boys all cheer). Tonight we take him for his ride up North to get his. Yeehaw. And then, I call my Aunt, who will be, ahem, CHOPPING THOSE BAD BOYS OFF!! Because I'm tired of them. They are disgusting! In every huge way, shape, (literally) and green-dripping form. (yeah EEWW!)

FRANK - I love you, But I DO NOT WANT ANOTHER BIG, STUPID, OVER-SIZED, LARGE-HEADED, DROOLING, GREEN-DRIPPING, ALL-MUSCLED, DUMB, PEEING, POOING, WATERING ALL OVER THE PLACE, SO THAT I CAN'T HAVE ANY VEGS IN THE GARDEN DOG!!! SERIOUSLY, I REALLY DON'T!! I WILL TAKE ANOTHER SNAKE, KITTY CAT, OR EVEN A SPITTING LLAMA OVER ANOTHER DOG. I LOVE YOU. (even if he is consoling)

have a painfree weekend, all.

Deborah

Past the Point of No Return

Well, I did live through Friday. Thankfully. Although, it was extremely loud. I knew that going into it; but it was well worth it. I'd go again. And again, and again.

Naturally, no cameras were allowed, and even if they were, my battery had up and died just before we left the house. I wanted to get pictures of everyone dressed up for the night. Hey, it usually only happens on Sundays for church; so for us ALL to be dressed up on a Friday night was something, well, very nice.

We headed out to dinner before the show, all dressed up, looking good and trying desperately to stay that way. Surprisingly, we did.

Red Lobster; sea food for all but Cinderisa who ordered chicken fingers. Go figure, the 15 year old orders chicken. Nicholas orders crab legs, as did Christina. Not Marisa, but the 6 year old did. I was truly second-guessing this, but he ate them.

My sweet little 6 year old; ah yessh. This little guy has been waiting for the Phantom. Everyday, for the past few weeks, he has been asking "When are we going to see the Phantom?" Every. day. It has been going on since we bought our tickets in May that we told him we were going to see the Opera.

You wouldn't think a child of his age would be so interested in a performance such as this, now would you? Well, he is. He received the movie for Christmas from us/Santa, and he has loved it since. He knows the songs and the story quite well. I knew he would enjoy the show.

I just didn't realize I would be "SHUSSSSSH"ed through it by him. Oh yeah, his little pointer finger on his lip and all.

"Nick, can you see, OK?" Because he was upset that a man sat in front of him.

"SSSHHHHHH!!!!!!"

"Are you enjoying the show?" Me with big intriguing smile, you know genuinly wanting to knwo.

"SSHHHHHHH!!!"

(Frank) "Buddy, wanna sit on my lap?"

"SSHHHHHH!!"

"Do you like it, Buddy?"

"SSHHHHH!"

"Buddy, watch the..."

"SSHHHHH, Frank, I'm trying to watch!!"

Ok, so he was just enjoying the show, already. He didn't miss a trick either. We didn't need to point out ANYTHING. He saw them on the catwalk. He knew the gendarme was in front of us; we were only 3 rows back from the stage. A little too close for comfort maybe. But great for the costume detail. And awesome for the kids.

Marisa, of course, during the intermission, had to check out the pitt. She was awed by it. Loved it, can't wait to go to college. YEAH!!!!!

Unfortunately for Christina, this night proved to be somewhat yucky for her. She left the house feeling under the weather. Her dinner, she didn't want to eat, and she wasn't in the mood for the show; both of which she had to endure the company of anyway. Dreadful for her, but in the longrun, she enjoyed.

As for the volume of the performance, I have a strange feeling that Nicholas will, unfortunately, follow my demise of migraine. The poor kid was forever covering his ears. Just a strange feeling, and some other things he's said to me. I know Marisa will, as she already has headaches with her periods. How can they not?

On Saturday, we ended up just lounging around, wasted, and watched "Flushed Away" which was cute. I felt flushed away. Took a nap, and now seriously don't remember the rest of the day.

Tomorrow, I start round 2 of infusion for another 3 days. please, oh please oh please work this time!!

Yesterday, my house was cleaned. Not by me, or my kids, or by Frank. Well, he paid for it. He had it cleanedFOR me; isn't he great! Let's face it, I'm spoiled - rotten. I haven't been able to keep my house the way I used to, SO, he has decided that it's time to just GET someone to do it for me.

At first, I'll admit, I was very reluctant, because, it's not an easy thing to give up anything. It's been hard for me to give up the ability to go back to work, which I was only able to maintain just a few short years ago. Well, that's not even a remote possibility.


I've been a stay-at-home Mom for a long time, so working was new to me, and I enjoyed it. Again. Then, I got nailed harder than ever before with the migraines. I mean, I always had them, and was able to just manage them, or so I thought. Not so much anymore.

Now, not only can I NOT work outside of my home, but I'm finding it hard to keep the work IN my home up. Now that in itself is a much harder struggle for me. That is the stuff I never had a problem managing. I could deal with the work thing; but not this. Because there is just too much at stake here in my home. This involves my family.

My love of cooking, and gardening are things that are taking a toll on me lately. Things that I used to enjoy, drain me of energy. They cause me such pain and such heartache, that sometimes I wonder if they are really worth the effort it takes to make them worth the effort at all. But then I see the wonder they produce; or I smell them baking or roasting, or my children know the name of their flower or herb when I ask them to retrieve it from the garden. It is then that I know, yes, it is so worth my energy, my pain, and oh yes, it worth the time it takes to struggle through to make the effort worth it all.

I am reminded that I have Parsley and Oregano, Rosemary and Thyme in my garden that needs harvesing. I have Mums that need planting. I have little gourds I am watching with Nicholas and the girls, as they get bigger each day. Our white pumpkins, 4 in all, are now in the lawn for decoration. I now know where we'll put our pumpkin patch for next year. Our white pumpkin patch. I may not be able to garden like I did 10 years ago, but my children have a passion for gardening; and they didn't just wake up with it. It was instilled in them, from my passion. So they will grow it with me. As they always have.

Wishing you all painfree days.
Deborah

The Music of the Night

Tonight, I have a date at the Opera. I am so excited. I have been waiting a very long time for this night. I can remember the first time I saw it, I had no idea what to expect, only the music, I knew.

This time, I am eager to see the faces of my children, as they watch. Anticipation, excitatation, exhilleration, all wrapped up and ready to go. They know the chandelliere will drop - or will it?

Who will get the most joy of the evening? Them watching the Opera? Me, watching them? Frank, watching me, watching them? It really doesn't matter does it, to each of us, in our own way, we are all excited.

They know the movie version by heart, which is great, because they will go into it having an understanding of the show. I had none. And I must admit, I was lost. When we bought the movie for them, I was thrilled, because it gave me a more deeper appreciation and understanding of the Opera. It is quite beautiful.

I'm hoping, in all actuality, I can get myself some much-needed energy beforehand, and get rid of this still continuing migraine, although fading out, hasn't yet left altogether.

I can remember the effects of coming home from the hospital like it was yesterday; that is how I am feeling from the infusion I received. A week-long, energy deprived doldrum. The slow and steady fadeout of migraine that isn't quite gone, but better. More tolerable. The ear screaching is still heard and fealt. The numbing is ever-present. Let's not forget the aura, because, well, they don't seem to want to forget me. They still visit my dreams, and my awake-state.

The pic of the migraine monster I found a few posts ago has been haunting me. Literally. I can feel that crack going right down the right side of my head, and seems to reach into my neck. What is he grabbing for? What does he want?

He can't have me tonight. Tonight, I have a date with my family at the Opera. That is where I will be. I WILL be at the Opera tonight, enjoying my family - enjoying the Phantom of the Opera.

Hoping you all have a pain free weekend
Deborah

Orgasmic Shopping Experience

Is it possible to experience pure bliss, one may ask, by just approaching the interior? Of course it is if one approaches that interior; but I'm talking about somewhere say exterior/interior.

Stay with me, this is interesting, I've gotten you this far with the "O" word, you'll appreciate the ending. I'm really asking this question to the men in the blogosphere; because I do know the answer for the women out there.

Ok, I'm getting there: For the past week, I've been between a fog and fetal position of bed and breakfast at the infusion center for nutrition; so my humor and sarcasm are just, ahem, flowing, for better words. Aren't you glad you stopped by? Right the orgasm.

Yesterday, Frank and I stopped by the new furniture store in the hood: American Signature Furniture. Well, let me tell you, I was like a kid in a freaking candy store.

It started in the parking lot. I'm rambling today because that is where my brain is; it's in bits-and-pieces. Bear with me. We pulled up next to my next car wanna-be, the Cadillac CTS, the first purrrrr.

I hear, "Come on, Deb, I don't want to be here all day."

Really, since when was the day about him anyway, was my thought. To which, I DID address the situation.

"Were you NOT complaining how bored you were? AND how tired you were of just sitting around the house all week? Well, now you're not!" And with that, I gave him a big smile, and I sloppily dragged my feet toward the very large doors.

And that is where I noticed the first set of oversized chocolate brown velvety two-story, floor-to-ceiling paneled drapes. We hadn't. made. it. in. the.door yet. He was in for it. He knew it, I knew it. I seriously didn't feel up to it physically, but something in me was burning for this place. I had to keep going.

He opened the door, and in we went. (Sound the herald of angels please, or something symphonic, Ian)

More ceiling-to-floor panels; these were white and whispy, something of a spring day. Soft and yet cool enough to keep the darkness at bay. Bright, too bright for me, but still very beautiful. Yes, boys, I know, they were just curtains to you, but to us, it's something very different. Isn't it?

I looked out at the great expanse of wood and canvas; the scent of leather enveloped me, I was in ecstacy, ladies. I felt like death was truly warming over my bones, under my skin, but I tell you, the colors on the partial walls, the fabrics, the decorating - I wanted to dance.

My legs were jello. Mostly from, well sort of a toss-us up here; drugs/fetal position- drugs/fetal position? Hmmm, scales are out on this.

I didn't know where to begin the walk through the place. There were salespeople ALL. OVER. THE. PLACE. Seriously. They were everywhere. How obnoxious can it get, right? No problem, I can handle myself, seriously. No, really I can handle myself. Not handle handle eww.

So, we continue to "OOhh," and "Aaww" through the place. I must say that the web site does not do it justice. You simply must visit the store. I'm planning to go back. Soon. Real soon. Like today I may be in the area actually, Cinderisa has a dentist appointment nearby and if I'm feeling perky enough...... as if.

I stumble, (literally) into a beautiful dark brown and very weathered leather club chair. To which, I just happen to slink into. No, I melted into it; and then I just randomly called out for Frank, cuz he was nowhere to be found.

"Frank! Frank! Where are you? Frank?"

He finds me. He wasn't impressed with the chair. His body-type is, well bigger than mine. I can fit into the children's clothing department, with no problem, and without tailoring, and for a much better price and FIT. We move on.

He finds a gorgeous persimmon and paisley chaise lounge, which he dives into. And growls, "OOhh, yeah, get me a cigar!! Now this is what I'm talking about! Try this, Deb."

He was right, positively correct. I curled up like a cat, into a wee little ball. All I needed was a blankie. Perfect.

Then I told him, "I want a job here!" And the next saleswoman who came up to us (which was approximately every 31/2 minutes) , I inquired as much.

"Are you hiring? I've never worked in retail, but I love to decorate, and I absolutely love this place!" Not to mention, they claim that their furniture is all wood, no venere, AND all made IN America! Salute!!

I kept stumbling walking, ignoring her as she was telling me something about the manager, blah, being away blah for the day, like I can work anyblahway. In my condition. Blah blah blah blah blah blaha blahbilibitbitbbbirty blah. But for yesterday, that was where I wanted to work. Because, it was very eye candy pretty. And I can so see myself helping people make their homes all nice and stuff. I've done it for my friends and family, why not?

Back to my little orgasm boys, I know, you're waiting! Frank has so much fun when we go out - it's great to be able to open my mouth and not get into trouble. I am so sure I've left many a head shaking in wonder, like yesterday, for example, which is where this little post is bringing me.

So as we were coming down yet ANOTHER aisle of wonderment and newness of design, this rather dashing 30 something gentleman salesperson (gee, has it been 3 1/2 minutes already?) comes along and says to me; "And how are WE (wait, WE?? like we are an item, HMMMMM!) doing today?"

READY BOYS?

And this is where I got him where he just wasn't looking; and girls, by the way, not only does this totally stop ALL sales persons in the store for the entire day from bothering you, but you AND your man will pretty much have free reign of the place, gaurantee.

"I am having an ORGASM from the contents in this place, I love it so much." And I just kept going.

He was completely, yeah, I know, come on get back on your chair Jeff, completly dumbfounded, he seriously choked, shook his head and smiled. And Frank said to him,

"Do you want to talk to her some more?"

Girls, do you NOT agree with me, that sometimes, sometimes, shopping can truly be an orgasmic, euphoric experience? Whether it be that little Italian piece of leather strapped to your foot. Or the one you're sitting in at the light; maybe it's not Italian, but your style is German or Swedish or American, (hey Frank works for Chrysler and we're talking strike, like literally with GM, right now). Maybe your dream is that that CTS with the French-stitched interior accents.

Here's the question; "when you turn your car on, does it return the favor??" I love that!!

Ok, so I drive a Dodge Grand Caravan, it's not happening for me! At least it turns on. AND my car was assembled in an American plant, with American employees. That worked hard for their American dollars. We'll see what America does for them now.

Feel better. Watch the Hill tomorrow. Headache on the Hill.

I hope you enjoyed your "Shopping Experience." Next time you're out, remember this line, and seriously TRY it. Let me know how it works.

Maybe it's the drugs working; but I doubt it; I'm mostly this weird.

Deborah

Sick and Dog Tired Again

This is how I have spent most, no all, of my time lately. I have been at my trusty infusion center since Friday of last, filling myself with the drugs that will, hopefully, prayerfully, knock this bad boy out of my existence. I have had enough.

I have been curled into a fetal ball, sleeping mostly, waiting, and just waiting some more for the drugs to do their thing. Please, oh please, do your thing. Cause, like I have my own things to do, you know! My own little life to live, people who depend on me to run things for them.

Oh, and by the way, I really hate it when I'm referred to as a "Headache patient" when I'm not; let's get it straight, this is NOT a headache, in any way, shape or form. This is a full-blown migraine. And has been for just over 13 days now. I'd say, I'm far from the headache stage. For the freaking record. Just sayin.

Going back to my comfy fetal position now, where I wait ..... some more.

Deborah

PS Check out Teri Robert - she's got some interesting stuff brewing on the DC Hill Tuesday! She'll be blogging about that a little later.

Another Storm

Another storm has landed. I've felt it coming on sicne about oh, Tuesday or Wednesday of last week. Trying to ignore it, never works. Neither does trying to deal with it. Both for me, have been a losing battle this time around.

No real sleep. Just strange dreams and nightmares, screams of myself waking me up. Then there are the constant kaleidascope of aura that dance and swirl themselves into a dizzying array of beautiful color and sound. They awe me, for a moment, until I realize and awake, dizzy and aware, of what they are really, and what they really are there for.

Their beauty is only momentary. For the fury awaits; and when it comes, hold on, grab for the bottle, that wonderful rescue that can give me just a moment of silence and peace. Only a moment.

But not this time. The fury is much stronger than the rescue can give. Maybe next time. Just maybe. I should have known by the intensity of the colors, and by their sounds; that this time the beast would get me down harder.

Sometimes there is no rescue. Just waiting and hoping and praying it out. That is where I am. This time.

Deborah

Home Alone

Today is my official. first. day. home. alone .without YOU! You have been my constant little companion, my sidekick, my little buddy for the past 6 (I know, almost 7) years.

You have always been with me! What am I going to do? Sure, you went to pre-school for half the day, and kindergarten, too; but this is a WHOLE day that you will be in a different place from me.

No more cuddling in our pj's to Curious George, because, well you were in too much of a hurry to get out the door to school today. I did get to lurk around the corner and scare the daylights out of you this morning. But I won't get another chance all day. Because you will be somewhere else.

Who will help me weed the garden today? Or put up our Fall decorations, shop for new ones? Remember how much fun it was to go shopping together? It's not going to be any fun alone. Everyone seems to think I will enjoy the "peace and quiet" but it's sound is very echoing for me. It's one I'm not used to. I find it lonely, not peaceful. I enjoy my children around me.

It is exciting to watch you grow; make friends, learn new things, explore the world around you. But I can't help but feel, well, selfish in not wanting to let you go yet. I know, I know, it's only 1st grade! But you are my baby. My little boy. My sweet, cuddly little boy. The one who will still curl up in my lap, look so sweetly in my eyes and tell me so wonderfully how much you love me.

Oh, how I am going to miss you! Yesterday, I had too much running around to notice the day fly past me. But today, is long and lonely. And Rocco is looking at me with the same wonder in his eyes - "where is everybody?" and "when oh when will they get home?"

Until I see you this afternoon; I shall take care of my things here for you and your sisters and Frank, your kitties and Rockhead. I will bake you more cookies to greet you off the bus; which, by the way, is one of the perks of being a Mom!

I love my job! Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to take care of my family. I may not always do it right, or perfect, and they may not be either; but they are mine and I am theirs. I am so thankful that at the end of their days, I can be here for them. Whether my head is banging or not, I'm able to be here for them. And they are here for me!

Hoping you all have a wonderful, pain-free day

Deborah

Update: The guts, gizzards and the partial head with one eye that Frank found, yes, they were all cleaned up this morning by Nick and I. Frank owes him a buck when he gets home. Gotta love cats.

What Ya Lookin' For, Rocco?

Poor, sad Rocco. What on Earth could he be looking for out that great big window? Could it be the kitty, Bosco, his best friend? No, he's asleep on the couch.
So what could that giant goofball be looking for?
I don't see the geese across the street either. Wait, it's coming to me - from the deep silence growing through the house, yes that's it. The silence, that must be it.

I'll bet this had something to do with it:
And this:






Look how nice Christina smiled for me this year! Not like last year; no last year there was much pouting and sourness. No worries, I got some of THAT!! Oh yes, yes, I got some of that I did. Miserisa gave me that: Just look at THIS:
Oh notice Rocco in the screen door!(Which is leaving us by the way! I should do an update on another post though about the new stuff) Click on this picture to get the fullness of the brattitude will ya. In all fairness, she did smile:I'm not sure it was real, but it's a smile. She was the big protestor for the "First Day of School Pictures" so I suppose that is why she put up such a fuss.

(That wall to the right of her, that's going too. Changing out the big window, too! YEAHH)

Today, if you haven't guessed, is the first day OF SCHOOL HERE IN OUR DISTRICT!!! Just a little excited. No more, "I'm bored" "What are we doing today?" "Can we go somewhere, do something???" bla bla bla blah!!!!

Why, yes! Now you have homework, and reading assignments. Oh, and don't forget the work around the house you have, plus the church activities you have; AND afterschool activities. I'm sure there's more.

Better go fill the taxi, my life is just getting started, too. But poor Rocco, you are on your own, man. Gotta run!

Deborah

Oh, I almost forgot, if you DO enlarge the pictures, be careful you DON'T look at the guts and gizzards that Bosco left for me this morning. Nick promised to clean them up when he gets off the bus. Hey, we pay him $1 per mouse or kill that the cats bring in. Like I'M going to clean it?! No thanks. So remember, DON'T look for the guts and gizzards. K, Bye