I am honestly humbled, and send only good wishes to all of you for a wonderful New Year.

It's been quite an amazing year here at this little old blog.

I have enjoyed incredible highs, and some equally incredible lows. My family consistently makes me laugh, cry, love, fear and hope. I am constantly surprised at the twists and turns that this path takes, but savor each experience as if it's my last.

I started this blog to just put to "paper" the thoughts that used to swirl through my head on a daily basis. It replaced the old worn-out journals that now sit in my attic in an old cardboard box. Throughout this blogging process, I have always been honest and have laid in front of you the contents of my life, and my heart. I have tried to maintain my integrity and authenticity throughout this past year and a half. I blog when I have something to say which, fortunately, seems to be almost every day.

Those of you who know me personally, know that I DO have an incredibly busy, crazy, hectic wonderful life, that I wouldn't trade it for all the vodka in Russia. I tend to bare myself here, without question, and feel that if I am not myself then there really is no point to this. I try to be true to who I am, and try never to blog at the expense of someone else. I've tried to not offend anyone, or injure anyone - it's just not my nature. However, I DO tend to rant and rave about my family. I hope you all know that I love them more than life itself, and would lay down my life for each and every one of them. (Well, perhaps not the dogs. Perhaps.)

Through it all I've been amazed at the support and love I have felt from so very many of you. By caring about my life, and what I write, you have given me a new lease on life. I have been provided with a missing piece of a puzzle I DIDN'T even know I was MISSING! I read each comment, respond and visit as often as I can, and feel very connected to all of you.

I am also convinced by all that has happened this past year, that there are real angels on earth, and if there is anyone out there who doesn't believe it, you come on over and we'll share a glass or two. I've got some stories of generosity to tell that just warm my heart.

I will be raising a glass tonight to my dear family and friends, the dearly departed who hold a special place in my soul, and to each and all of you.


Now, let's all be safe out there. Ya hear?


That is not junk in my trunk.

This is a Public Service Announcement from one of the gymnasts from the Olga Korbut/ Nadia Comaneci era. Thanks to YOU, hardwood floors, old wrestling mats, READ WOODEN balance beams and a hardwood gym floor that we ran down to vault, I am now a creaky, arthritic woman who brags about glory days and downs anti-inflammatories like there’s NO tomorrow.

These are some of the perks that those 10 years of competitive gymnastics have given me.

1. Remember when you could just put on your panties by lifting one leg, balancing and slipping the panties on? NOW I have to hold onto something for God’s sake. Jesus, I actually have to hold ONTO something.

2. I continue to embarrass myself when I try to squat into the tub and fall just inches from the bottom, causing a splash that is beginning to make Tightwad wonder WHY the hallway is flooded each night. (Shhh, it’s our little secret.)

3. I can’t ride for more than two hours in a car, or I am walking like Ruth Buzzi after a long night on Laugh-In. (Sigh. I miss that *&%^ show.)

4. Thanks to our incredible music teacher who FORCED us all to dance to Jingle Bell Rock at the Christmas Sing-a-long, I haven’t been able to walk for six days. (Okay, the vodka helps, but my knees are still SWOLLEN for God’s sake. I told her I shouldn’t do the dance.)

5. Oh, and remember that nice firm butt and strong muscular legs I was so proud of in high school and college? Well, guess what happens to muscle 25 years LATER? GUESS? (It ain’t pretty.)

I now know why old ladies walk with a determined look in their eyes, and have something that is NOT tea in their teacups.

Gymnastics rocks, my &**. I should’ve taken up sharp-shooting.


Next year I'm going to Mexico. Alone.

It appears that this holiday season has again, unfortunately, provided me with some “I didn’t know it was a contest” winners. Drumroll, please…

1. Who won the “most ungrateful brat on these continental United States” title on Christmas morning?” Sassy. Hands-down. (I don’t think you want the details. Moms of teen girls- you know exactly what I mean.)

2. Who provoked mom to call someone a *&^ing *&@^# on the day AFTER Christmas? Bitchy. (When Golden Boy finally realizes he’s TWICE her weight and four inches taller than she is and can basically squash her like a BUG-she better run.)

3. Who persuaded mom to run away from home for two days without even a HINT of guilt? That’s a toss up. I’d say it was a three-way tie. (A three way screaming like BANSHEES tie.)

4. Who ruined the “run away in the middle of the night” vacation that mom planned the day after Christmas? Tightwad. (Thanks, Dr. Smythe, for scheduling his BIG TOE surgery for today. Frankly, I could have performed it myself with my new “ladies Swiss Army Knife” that he so thoughtfully gave me for Christmas. You’d think after 20 years I’d learn that I’m NOT getting anything REMOTELY related to the jewelry family.)

5. Who finally saved mom from committing hari-kari over the last five days? The Nikolai vodka company. (I am still convinced I’d be their best sponsor idea YET.)

Here’s the gift I’m cuddling up with tonight. (And for next gazillion nights, I’m thinking.) Five Gazillion pages of delicious Stephen.

He’s the “best gift this year” winner. I might have to deliver his award in person. (And I would, if he didn't have that silly little restraining order.)


This woman is me in disguise.

I opened an email this morning that I neglected the other day. It was a forwarded quicktime movie- and I had a few minutes this morning while everyone else is sleeping off Christmas.

I am STILL wiping my eyes. This is the funniest woman I have seen in a long, long time.




May the joy of the season fill your heart...

I am wishing all of you a joyous and magical Christmas. I am off to shop, wrap, eat, drink and be merry.

I feel incredibly blessed with my friends, my family and all of you. I have no words, honestly, to express how much you all mean to me.

Now, please go read this post and do something special for this little girl. THIS is what this season is all about.


YOu men are all alike. Remember?

I KNOW, I know, I have shopping/wrapping/baking to do, but I HAD to share a funny story from last year. I saw the little fella this morning, and he provided me with yet ANOTHER funny story I'll post tomorrow. However, this one will give you a peek into his adorable mind. Here's the post from last year! (I'm sure some of you remember him...)

Yesterday morning Jackson came RUNNING into the classroom.

"I have a present for SUSIE! I have a PRESENT for SUSIE!!!" He was yelling this to me at the top of his lungs. (And kind of running in place at the same time. Can you picture that???)

"Go out and wait at the coat closets for her then. Remember, she is usually late."

Jackson went out to the coat closet, waited for a few minutes, and then ran BACK into the room, yelling the same thing. "I have a present for SUSIE! I have a present for SUSIE!!!" And then he turned and ran back out to the coat closets.

This went on for at LEAST ten minutes. (Which, in kindergarten time is like four hours....)

Finally, he came in the room empty handed, stood in front of me and looked at me like he wanted to say something.

"What, Jackson? What is it? Did you give Susie her present?"

"No. I got TIRED of waiting for her. I just gave it to Hannah." And with that, he turned and sat down.

And THAT is why Jackson will keep me in blog material for the rest of the year! I love that kid.

Tired of waiting, my #**. You men are ALL alike......


A real time AUTHOR with a great giveaway...

Typically I do not do book reviews. No, it’s not because I’m all hoity toity, or too ABOVE doing reviews - I’m right down here in the gutter with the rest of all you sleazebags.

No, it’s because I FORGET. I receive wonderful books, I read them, and then my LIFE GETS IN MY WAY and I forget to post the review. I hem, I haw, I try to WORK for a living, some people here insist I do laundry, I TRY to cook for God’s sake and I CAN’T KEEP UP. Well, that and the fact that it’s only the trashy romances that grab my attention. Those, and my boyfriend Steve King’s books. (I might be one of his 14 mistresses. But I’m not coming out until the rest of them do.)

However, I am always a sucker for children’s books, and am constantly on the prowl for books that my own flesh and blood might be bribed to read. (They claim they know HOW to read, but I have yet to witness the actual act of reading. This is one of the many reasons I might NOT be their actual birth mother. Had I not actually BEEN there each time, I would definitely argue the point.)

I stumbled upon Barrie Summy’s blog at some point last year, and discovered that she was not only a fabulous writer, but a wonderful person as well.

I was intrigued by her YA books called “I Don’t Do Mysteries” because I was OBSESSED with Nancy Drew books when I was young. In fact, when I was fifth grade I used to pretend to be sick so I could stay home and READ. Yeah, read. I was one SICK child.

She sent me one of her NOT YET PUBLISHED books (I’m special) and I loved it. I, in turn, passed it on to my school librarian (she’s a DOLL) and SHE loved it.

Barrie has generously offered a SIGNED copy of the NOW published book, along with a cool, cool shirt. Let’s get down to some details.

In order to win you must do the following.

1. Leave me a comment. (Preferably one that makes me laugh out loud- but I’m not picky.)

2. Do something nice for someone today WITHOUT them knowing it was you. Either slow down while they pull out of their driveway, let them in front you on the road, leave someone a treat- you get it.)

3. Save your Box Tops for education and either send them to ME or take them to a school in your town. They really DO work, and we have a darn nice See-Saw on our playground to prove it. (Here in Oregon.)

4. Find me another 1200 followers. I am STILL in shock that people come here to read about my crazy life. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. (I know I'm the poor white Oprah, so I'll try to get my hands on a few thousand matchbox cars and get them in the mail. YOU get one, YOU get one, and YOU get one.)

5. Go visit Barrie here.

6. Do one or all of the above. You can enter as many times as humanely possible.

Winner will be announced when I get around to it. (Or tomorrow).

(Wal-mart provided me with TWO gift cards to give away. Go here for that!)


You'll always be right here beside me...

When my mother and father passed away, I somehow managed to land the many, many ornaments that adorned the trees of our childhood. In fact, I doubt there was any arguing, begging, pleading or bargaining - I just ended up with boxes that surprisingly held the treasures.

When I unwrap each treasure, I find myself wiping away the tears. They are tears of remembrance, tears of joy, tears of love and tears of sorrow. It's a ritual I attend to each year, and one that I feel invites my parents into our Christmas spirit.

These in particular are special to me. They were made by my darling mother.

My good friend, Scope, insisted I share.

Are you happy now?


Who should sponsor me to Blissdom. (Or, why I’ll never be a Real Housewife of Smythe County.)

They say that when searching for a sponsor for your blog, or for an event, that you should first go (and when I say go I really mean beg shamelessly) to the companies or brands that you and your family use the most. Okay. Here goes.

1. Goodwill. What can I say? Frankly, it’s recycling at its BEST, and if we ALL shopped there, then none of us would feel like hiding when we run into parents of kids in our classrooms, or co-workers looking for gag gifts. If we really wanted to go green, we’d ALL be shopping there.

2. Ramen Noodles, Mac & Cheese and Barilla Pasta with Generic Sauce - Thanks for keeping my family in food for the last ten years. I didn’t think we’d be eating it QUITE this long, but we’ve all convinced ourselves we’re eating it because we love it. (Pasta = big savings. And apparently a big butt.)

3. Middleswarth Barb-b-Que chips. You are the BEST chip in the WORLD, and I’d like to thank you for the 25 pounds I plan on losing in the next six months. I wish I could quit you. Well, you and the cheese.

4. Angel Soft Toilet Paper- Not only are you CHEAP, it seems we are constantly in need of you. You’re kind of like funeral homes and beauty shops. Even in a recession, you’re always packed.

5. Dawn Dishwashing Soap – YOU can thank my crappy dishwasher for our constant need of you. Oh, that and the fact that our coupon saver always has your coupons, and Giant doubles them. (Jesus, you’re practically FREE.)

6. Nikolai Vodka- I can’t for the LIFE of me figure out why they don’t sponsor me. Don’t they have RECORDS of people who BUY their vodka? I pay their SALARIES for the God’s sake.

7. Wal- Mart. I know, I know, but for us poor people it’s like the Holy Grail. Not only do I spend MORE than what is in my account there each month, they have given me TWO GIFT CARDS to give away. (If I could keep them and get away with it, I would. Let’s be honest.) (More on the giveaway tomorrow.)

8. Bissell Carpet Cleaner and the Carpet Cleaning STUFF that goes with it - You can thank my two dogs that continue to pee all over the carpets. One is senile (so we forgive her) and the other is just trying to piss me off. (It’s working.)

I'm sure I could come up with a few more, but apparently I need to start some Christmas Shopping, perhaps some baking, my Christmas Newsletter and someone is insisting I clean. (Where's my shotgun?)


I have glitter in every piece of clothing I own...

We have spent several BILLION days making menorahs, Christmas trees, Kwanza pictures, Santa’s, stockings, Greeting cards and anything else that REMOTELY resembles a holiday in December.

After reading books about REAL Reindeer, and talking about the “other” reindeer, we also made a bag of “reindeer food” that consisted of marshmallows, glitter and love. (Did I mention I have a headache?)

As I sent the children out the door today amidst a cloud of glitter, sequins and confectioner’s sugar, and carrying their reindeer food in their hands, I heard one little girl ask another what was in the bag. Her response?

“It’s for the goats.”


Wordless Wednesday? I am SO in...

The top four reasons I love my job here in Oregon.

and finally, the winner is....


Do NOT call on that boy. I don't care if his hand has been up for two hours.

Note to Self:

When the adorable Korean boy wants to share when you are talking about Santa, you might want to think again. Odds are GREAT that he will stand up and announce to your class of TWENTY FIVE STUDENTS that his mudder and fadder told him there WAS NO SANTA CLAUS, and that he was JUST A MAN in a suit…..

And he might have gotten more info out had the teacher not TACKLED HIM TO THE GROUND and HELD HER HAND over his mouth.

Jesus, I should have known better. (And who KNEW I could run so fast?) Same thing happened about 7 years ago. Won’t I EVER learn????


Where is Adam Sandler when I need him??

As some of you might know, our daughter Bitchy is a freshman at Oregon State. Even though I could throw a STONE and hit her dorm, we were very adamant that she live on campus in order to ensure a “true” college experience.

Last Sunday night, the night before finals, I volunteered to make dinner for her and her roomies. (Don’t be impressed, they wanted mac and cheese and salad. Even I can make that.) We had a lovely dinner, complete with Christmas music playing in the background. I have QUITE the selection, I must say.

They ate like the Survivors coming back from 40 days in the wild, and they are GIRLS. Bitchy decided to take them back to the dorm, come home and do laundry and then have her father drive her the five blocks back up to campus later in the evening.

Bitchy returned, marched into the house and said to me, “Mom! Well, first, they loved the dinner. Thank you very much. But, I CAN’T BELIEVE you played CHRISTMAS music ALL through dinner!! Why would you do that?”

“Because I am always playing that music. YOU know that. I do it every year. Plus, who doesn’t love Christmas music?”

“Jewish people, that’s who. Did you forget that they are JEWISH? Jesus, mom.” And with that, she turned and marched down the steps to the laundry room.

Crap. Then I remembered her telling me about the dinner Friday night at the JEWISH center with her roommates. Yeah, even teachers don't pay attention. My bad. (as usual.)

(This was from last year. I am STILL laughing about it. I am cooking again TODAY!!! I might have to try making potato latke's and rush out and buy a menorah. )


Tell it like it is, people.

This is another old Christmas newsletter. I am TRYING to find the time to write THIS year's!
Perhaps after happy hour tonight I'll be inspired...


Jesus, another year has come and gone and I CAN’T believe I’m still here. I’d like to thank God, but after all the practical jokes he has been playing on me lately, I’m afraid I’ve been avoiding him. Let’s see if I can give you a quick recap of our year.

Bitchy is living at Oregon State, and assures us that she had nothing to do with the small explosion and subsequent fire at the Chemistry Lab. We keep reassuring her that if the chemistry thing doesn’t work out, we can always find a spot at Smythe Beauty School. She finally believes that I am NOT stalking her, and claims that she is, in fact, doing all her homework. Sassyis 16, and I’m trying to think of something good to say about that. We are proud that she is doing well in field hockey, and we are happy that Golden Boy has finally learned not to provoke his sister while she is holding her stick. (It took him several altercations to finally learn THAT lesson.) We DO love her, and know that someday we’ll be able to tell her that without it resulting in a fight.

The Golden Boy has refused to stop growing, and has finally put to good use all of those tapping skills by playing drums in the orchestra. I’ve discovered these things about boys: They stink, they take ALL kinds of stuff apart; they break everything in sight, and they are very, very loud. However, they still treat their moms like gold, and if I had known that, I NEVER would have had that hysterectomy and would have tried for 10 more boys. (not really.)

I’m driving Tightwad crazy with the craziness of the season, and he has been sneaking off to camp. I’ve decided that the secret to a successful marriage is to make SURE that your husband has a camp to go to, and that you hide that credit card bill after those trips. It’s a win-win situation.

All in all we are thankful for each other - our wonderful, crazy lives, and wish you all peace and love this holiday season.

(Another letter is posted here. And now, I'm off to try to find the BRIGHT side of all of this madness. I'm sure I will. )


Who's in charge around here?

Dear people who work at the Cruel Twist of Fate Company,

Don’t you people know it’s CHRISTMAS in three weeks? Didn’t you get the memo that Tightwad wasn’t working for ELEVEN months last year, and that he was laid off again YESTERDAY???

Yeah. So when you swirled your finger and caused that eight point BUCK to jump out in front of his truck on the way HOME from hunting camp, it just couldn’t have happened at a better time. Really. (When I told him “I hope you bag a buck” I didn’t MEAN with his TRUCK.)

So, I hope the kids ALL enjoy the new $1800 front end that we need to purchase for said vehicle. It’s about the only gift we’ll be able to afford. We’ll try to make sure they all get a chance to unwrap it, although I have a feeling it won’t fit under the tree.

(Can anyone craft a turkey out of bright orange mac and cheese and Ramen Noodles? Let me know…)

Ho. Ho. Ho.

(I am hiding over here today, as well. )


Does this make my lips look big????


You know that Burt's Bees Lip Balm you stole from my room two months ago? (Yeah, you thought I didn't notice...) Well, it's REALLY Cuticle Cream. You've been spreading cuticle cream on your lips for two months and DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT. That's what YOU get for calling ME a you know what..

Oh, and yes, I DO love being a pain. It's my special talent.

Wait. WHY ISN'T MY PHONE WORKING??????? MOM!!!!!!! You are SUCH a &$@#!!!!!!!!




Thank you, Weekly Reader.

Why was Mrs. Smith rolling on the floor laughing during morning centers? Jane discovered the squirrels on page two of our new Weekly Readers.

Jane: "Look at that cute little squirrel! He's just sitting there holding his nuts!"


Not to be confused with his brother Pepto...

This was my conversation with The Golden Boy last night, after he and his dad returned from hunting camp.

"Mom this day was A. Bismal.

First, I was FROZEN in the woods.

Second, well, we hit a DEER with the truck on the way home and dad’s grill is smashed. AND it scared me.

Third, I fell off a LADDER. That hurt.

Fourth. Wait, I know there’s more........ Fourth, Cincinnati won.

Fifth, Dad has to go back to camp tomorrow.

And sixth, I had to poop in the woods.

(Medium part two, if you care...)

Pass me that Prada bag, would you?

I want to start this part two with a bit of an explanation. I dove right into the palm reading before sharing the history that the medium shared with me.

If I could pay attention for one IOTA of a second to stuff that bores the hell out of me, I would tell you what she said. All I remember is there were some comments about the beginning of time, angels, Jesus on the cross and that we are all God. She talked for at least 15 minutes, and that’s all I got. (I’m afraid I spent most of that time trying to figure out a way to block her from reading my mind.)

So after hearing what I THINK were details about the last supper, she proceeded with the palm reading, which I’ve already shared here.

After telling me my parents were happy I was there, she told me that my father died very quickly, and put a hand to her chest. She said there was no resuscitation, which was true, and that there was no closure. My mother was there as well, she said, and also a seven year old. That one threw me for a loop.

A seven year old? She kept saying, “Who is this seven year old? What is this seven thing?”

For the LIFE of me I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then she started talking about how they said that I did what I said I would do, in terms of taking care of things, and that I should let go of the promise I had made.

All of the sudden I realized what she meant when she said seven. I blurted out, “My parents died seven years apart. To the day.”

“Of COURSE! Why didn’t you say that before? That’s the significance of the seven.”

She asked me if I had headaches, and I said no. She asked if my kids had headaches, or if there was a significance of my mother pointing to her head. I finally realized what she meant, and blurted out, “My mom fell and hit her head and died not long after.”

“That’s it!” she said. “She lingered for a while, two, three days before she died?”


“She wants you to know that she heard everything you said. And she was JUST as mad as you were.”

At that time she started telling me things and frankly, it’s still a bit of a blur. She mentioned that my father was talking about how and when I became a very independent person, about choices that I made and the struggle I went through. I think she said he was proud of where I am, but I can’t be sure.

She then told me that I am very content with a simplistic life. That I wasn’t a materialistic person (nuts) and that it was because I was in a monastery for two previous lives. (Monastery? MONASTERY? Jesus, here I thought I was a queen or something and was put here to learn a lesson about being a lowly working woman.) I felt like shouting, “Will I EVER wear Prada? Dolce???? Man.

And now, out of respect for my dear sister who is a loyal reader of this blog, I will not discuss the conversation that happened at this point. She thinks this is all hogwash, and that I wasted the hard earned money I saved to be able to have this experience. I respect that.

The medium did say that we are all here on this earth to learn something. We plot out our course, and we have lessons that we are to learn. She also talked about free will, and kept bringing that up.

She talked about my being a teacher, and helping 28 kids every day. (I have 25 in my class, and my own three. That’s what I suspect the 28 meant.) She said that I use compassion when I taught them, and help them learn in an environment of love. She talked a bit more about my role in the lives of young people, and it made me smile.

I tried very hard during this encounter to be tight lipped- to try and see what information she gave me without having any clues. However, it’s hard not to get caught up in the moment. I am sure that people who visit her are looking for something, and she surely knows that.

She did say some things that were not so easy to hear, and those I will keep to myself. (When someone tells you they say only the good stuff, don’t believe it.) It gave me something to think about, and at the very least will help me improve the quality of my life.

She gave me hope about my writing, and I am smiling in that regard. I am feeling quite content with the direction it has taken, and am hopeful that this journey will have a clearer destination.

She talked a bit about dreams, and about the dreams that I have. (I can’t remember if I mentioned them to her on the phone when we first spoke, or if she just knew.) She said that we travel in our dreams to learn, and that I travel and visit often with those who have passed.

All in all it was an interesting experience. I wish I had turned on a tape recorder so I could remember all that she said. It’s still a bit of a blur, and I’m sure I left out more that I will remember later. Do I believe it? I’m not sure.

The jury is still out.


I'd Like My Medium Rare, Please...

I’ve always been fascinated by things that go bump in the night. I listen to my intuition, have incredible dreams, and I’ve read ALL the Sandra Browne books. Call me crazy, call me quirky, call me na├»ve – but I have an open mind and am willing to listen to explanations about events that might not seem plausible. I also have a deep faith, that I keep close to my heart.

You all know that I like to pretend that I am a bit “sensitive” to the “world beyond”, and I am STILL waiting for that call from M. Night Shamalamin. (I know it’s Shyamalan, but frankly my version rolls off the tongue easier.)

After hearing about my friend’s experience with a local medium, and after thinking long and hard about it, I finally called and made an appointment.

I was very, very nervous when the day approached, and seriously considered cancelling. My friend said this medium would not say anything bad, and that she only shared the good things. Frankly, I did NOT want to hear about what a bad person I was, or be reprimanded by the ghosts of my parents.

I followed her directions, and was surprised to find myself at a huge, lovely home. She greeted me and invited me in. I was floored by the elegance of the home! (I seriously need to change my profession.) I have never been to a home like it- marble floors, material on the walls, and looked like it was RIGHT from one of those magazines of “elegant” homes. I felt like the servant who was visiting the boss.

She took me into a tiny “sunroom” that was filled with candles and crystals. We sat near a window in a cozy wicker loveseat and chair set. She was dressed in a lovely black sweater and black pants- her brown hair hung softly around her face. (She looked like she just arrived home from the country club.) Her voice was soothing and my first thought was that she was going to hypnotize me and force me into a cult. I was trying so hard not to think AT ALL for fear she was reading my mind.

She took my hand, and told me that she was going to give me a palm reading first. This was amazing. (I have NEVER had this done.)

She held my palm in her hand, and traced some lines.

“You have a very long life line - VERY long. You’ll live o be 94. (MY thought was… CRAP. I’m not sure I WANT to live that long. I might have to add more to my VALIC account, and perhaps be nicer to my children. I MAY be living with one of them.)

“You have a very long intelligence line. “ (Um, I’d like that in writing, please. I want to show THAT to my kids.) And, do you see this puffy part of your palm? This is your intuition, or your “feelings”. You have a bit of a gift, don’t you?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, and just nodded, and said that I do get feelings and sense things sometimes. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. She went on to say a bit more about me being a healer, and having a close connection to those who have passed on. She compared that corner of my palm to her palm. They looked eerily similar.

“You have two incomes right now. You’ll be getting three or four in the future. (It better be soon. We’re ONE MONTH behind in the mortgage payments and if that phone doesn’t stop ringing I’m unplugging it.) Something you've been working on for 2 or 3 years will be very important. " (I started "writing" three years ago, when we lost my nephew.)

Then she started talking about how many children I had, and how many grandchildren I would have. It made me feel very strange. I don’t think I WANT to have a picture of some of life’s great surprises. Do you? (I think I'll keep that info close to my heart. I don't mind sharing what is directly related to me, but when it comes to others, that's their path...)

She also talked about how many sibling I had, and that she thought there were two more. I indicated that my mother suffered a miscarriage before giving birth to my sister, and she simply stated, "They were twin girls."

After this palm reading, we prayed. Then, she was quiet for some moments. Finally, she said, “Is your father dead? He's dead, isn't he? He’s here right now.”

I said he was, and waited for her to share.

“He is very excited that you are finally here. Wait. Your mother is dead ALSO? She’s right here, too. They are so happy you have finally come."

(I will post part two Sunday evening. I am traveling to pick up my MIL after her Thanksgiving trip to Florida.)


The Chain Reaction...

The Chain Reaction.

Today’s sharing time caused quite a chain reaction.

"My mommy and daddy got in a big fight last night because my dad hit my mom's car in the driveway. She called him lazy and dad got angry and threw the bag of potato chips"

"Oh… one time I ate potato chips!"

"My dad got poker chips for his birthday"

"It was my mom's birthday last week"

"My mom's too."

“Hey, my birthday is in the next season.”

“Today is the second day of the season of fall.”

“I fell off my bed last night!”

Me: “Okay. Well. I think that’s enough sharing for today. I’m a little dizzy.”

(Yes, it's a report- and I am STILL working on the post about my visit to the medium. It's taking FOREVER. I was there for two hours, people. I'm still digesting it all, frankly. And if you haven't heard about our Sassy's courage, here it is. )


Does this make me look fat? (Or why I'll never wear red again.)

Top reason I'll never wear this outfit to school again.

This morning when the kids came in:

Jack: "Hey! Mrs. Smith! You look JUST like Mrs. Santa Claus!"

Crap. That was the NOT the look I was shooting for.

(I've been in meeting after meeting. The medium encounter is coming. I PROMISE!)


Um, What did you Say?

This was an email I received from a fifth grade teacher friend this morning!

I was teaching the 5th graders about the systems of the human body. Our focus was the digestive system. I asked the kids to explain the beginning of the digestion process. One student raised her hand and explained that she believed the brain was the beginning because the brain is in charge of our senses.

She said that when you see and/or smell food, your mouth waters.

I said, "That is exactly right. The extra saliva in your mouth aids in mastication. Who can tell me what mastication is?"

A very bright fifth grade boy raised his hand and excitedly said, "I know what masturbation is, Mrs. Lee!!"

There was a bit of puzzled silence and he raised his hand again and said, "But I don't know what that has to do with the digestive system."

(From the "lost files". I'm still reeling from my meeting with a MEDUIM yesterday. I'll share more when I have my wits about me. Are they for real? whew. For those of you who've been out of town, here's Sassy's update.)