tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27436283336856749902024-02-20T10:32:18.649-05:00An Elephant Has No OppositeI myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions. ~ Augusten BurroughsAmandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.comBlogger120125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-64012881118213015462013-04-16T19:09:00.002-04:002013-04-20T20:58:47.686-04:00Meanwhile, 5 states over...<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>So this is happening...</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Indeed, I am moving from Georgia-lina to San Antonio. A move has been on the horizon for a while. Well. More than a "while"; in fact, I'm not sure the word "horizon" may be used when the "while" can be numbered in years. I'd not have thought I would need a catalyst past my grandparents both passing, but it appears I did/do. The push out of mired & miserable happened last week and so I'm off. I'm effing off. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I feel like I should be terrified, but I'm not. Things should feel chaotic and uncertain, but they don't. And I should be overwhelmed by the sheer number of to-do's and details, but I'm not (yet). The fact that I feel only positive energy leads me to the conclusion that "shoulds" don't always apply, and in this instance - the shoulds have been shucked like corn. Or an oyster. It's going to be an intense change, but moving forward - <i>mindfully</i> - is going to kick some ass. It will be wildly challenging, but ass-kicking just the same. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Once settled, I'll let you know (1) how the social work job market is faring in SA for those who are not bilingual (yet), (2) if my husband is on one of the two USAF bases there (aim high), and (3) how it feels to see my beloved parents - Dad and Maggie - more than once a year. And I'll be seeing them quite a bit as they have generously and graciously offered shelter (in their brand new home, no less) as I get my feet set.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can't tell you when I last felt optimistic - and I do now. I ache for a life of substance rather than empty calories. Ache, I tell you...in what now feels like the best way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Praying for strength, guidance, and continued momentum. L-et-s-g-o, LET'S GO!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Comments make me happy. Do it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(You may have to scroll down a bit to see the comment section; if not visible, please refresh the page. Working on a fix!)</span>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Great big bowls of love.. ~ A</span></div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-3798037901688310072013-01-11T00:30:00.000-05:002013-04-16T23:24:53.817-04:00Request & Dedication - Liar, Liar<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />Dear Casey,<br /><br />You know how you can have a song with someone, yes? ...Right...your show is more or less dedicated to the concept. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Since I was 15 or 16 I've had a song with a boyfriend from that time [period], and because the "relationship" has continued in various (and wildly unhealthy) forms over the past 21 years, we've collected enough music for a soundtrack. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(21 years...? That's an entire person-who-can-drink long. I've no idea how that happened.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This guy - who, for the purpose of this letter (and in the interest of accuracy), we'll call Liar, Liar - was my first love. I thought I might think differently of it/him later in life, but even still - having experienced other relationships, he remains my first true love. (My apologies for the gooey use of the word "true"; there was no way around it.) I wish I could explain the relationship - if only for my own benefit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Liar, Liar's particular magic - is actually magic. He disappears and reappears every 2-3 years - like clockwork. ..Like clocks that measure time specifically in 24-36 month spans. It's really quite impressive. It's also insane. (I trust there's no need to review the definition of insanity.) While social media has certainly made his biennial popping-out-of-the-woodwork easier, he maintained it prior to Facebook - prior to Myspace and Classmates, even. This is no easy task as I just might be a nomad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He's reappeared recently - figuratively (e-mail, text, phone). I haven't seen him and have no plans to do so. I'm the girl here, Casey, and I [admittedly] act like one when it comes to him - a stupid girl. I respond to the e-mail, the phone call, the carrier pigeon. I contribute - and that's on me. Initially, it was simply hard not to.. I was always drawn back toward him. That first-love <strike>bullshit</strike> had a hold on me, on my heart, and so I responded. Each time, it ended badly. And each *next* time, he worked hard to convince me he had changed - grown. There were [routinely] 3-4 hour conversations each night...conversations turned speeches, one bumper-sticker shy of a campaign. Inevitably, we would circle back to our teenage love and reflect on our story - and I'd be willing to try again. Because I can be an idiot. Once you know the difference though, it's not making the same mistake twice or three times - it's a choice. A bad choice, a poor decision. <enter -="-" girl.="girl." stupid="stupid"></enter></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm content to say that this time is different. The first-love hold is no longer there and if I talk to him, it's because I want to. It turns out though that if I don't engage, he behaves quite differently (profound, Amanda). It's liberating - to be able to take it or leave it. Even better, to have no real interest. And it's nice to not feel stupid...falling for the same song and dance (he's a good dancer) and then punishing myself for having done so - again. In the grand scheme, the relationship is an important one. It has shaped a few things for me and though, like college, it took me much longer than it should have...I did learn quite a lot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our on-again/off-again soundtrack of 21 years has some great music from the 90's, some excellent slow-dance songs, a little Blue October, and some other songs that made sense for us, even if we didn't. I'm terribly sentimental, so I'll keep the soundtrack. In a box. We have a new song though and if he ever reads this (erm...hears your show), then I suppose he'll know about it too.<br /><br />Casey, please play I Never Knew You by the Avett Brothers for Liar, Liar - who I'll always care about, but never need to see again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sincerely,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Amanda</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Pardon the poor video - the album is a bit new and there isn't anything better posted. Yet.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Comments make me happy. Do it.
Great big bowls of love.. ~ A</span></div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-69767066171264221462012-12-13T00:10:00.000-05:002013-04-17T00:07:08.624-04:00Randomanda....the telling of time. <span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">While this blog (I still dislike that word) continues to be a work in progress in relation to the overall format, and also to the old posts [many of which] I'm still reverting to draft form because they no longer flow with my current </span><i style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">current</i><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">...I've decided to change things up a little. The first bit, you're used to: </span><b style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Randomanda</b><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. The second bit will be called (and later explained): </span><b style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A Little Bertie Told Me</b><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. The third: <b>Request & Dedication.</b> And the fourth...I haven't quite settled on a name for yet. The content will have more weight (not as heavy as lead, or metal), and more depth (but not quite a well). And as film once did, I trust it will develop over time. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Randomanda...the telling of time.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">(Photo credit: http://www.cafepress.com/+question-mark+clocks?page=5)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My cell phone died today (read: lost all charge). It's uncharacteristic of me to let this happen, but it did...I did. And so there I sat and there I waited. In a cold, clock-less doctor's office. Aside from having no iPhone entertainment (a tragic first-world problem), I had no idea what time it was or how long I'd been waiting. I'd been seen, had an x-ray, a neb treatment, but still there was time - vats of it. To occupy myself, I began to compare the room to a casino; it seemed a reasonable simile, as well as an activity that might low-light my autistic attribute of counting metal objects or ceiling tiles. I'm not sure I've been inside of a casino (maybe once), but I understand there are no clocks...so there's that (one). Being in a doctor's office - amongst all the sick folk - I figured I was <i>close</i> to playing roulette (two). There were no slot machines, but there was indeed a container with a type of slot (if you will) for depositing contaminated sharps. Close enough (three). As it's been said gambling is a rush, a visit to the doctor is often enough to elevate ones pulse and blood-pressure (four). And (five) there are shot-sized cups nearby; the liquid collected inside is not the nectar one typically seeks in effort to obtain a buzz, but the cups count.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">They are both a gamble (doctors - some, not all -and casinos). And similar to the way people are plied to stay and spend more money with free steak dinners - a very cute, very charming, and very married resident - did generously offer me his phone charger for the duration of my stay. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The outcome? No whammies!! Wait. No. Um, double 7s and a cherry? (I don't know the lingo.) Double bronchitis, leaning toward, but not yet pneumonia. Bronchitis and I have an annual date, though it's not usually bilateral. I'm not worried though; <a class="g-profile" href="http://plus.google.com/104874665661843215331" target="_blank">+Kim </a>has promised me one of her lungs should both of mine fail. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Comments make me happy. Do it. If you want to, I mean. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Great big bowls of love.. ~ A</span></div>
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-6128424240289701722012-09-29T01:39:00.000-04:002012-11-05T20:44:32.173-05:00Nudges<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I should think I'd like to have this for when my ball isn't round. It doesn't exactly have edges, but sometimes it won't roll. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ca54r80IKSk/UGaI-IENnVI/AAAAAAAAzNc/5VVOxbnNixs/s1600/642-Things-to-write-about.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #ffe599;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ca54r80IKSk/UGaI-IENnVI/AAAAAAAAzNc/5VVOxbnNixs/s320/642-Things-to-write-about.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.uncommongoods.com/product/642-things-to-write-about"><i>642 Things to Write About</i></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Equally, but separately interested in this one...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><a href="http://www.anthropologie.com/anthro/catalog/productdetail.jsp?id=20376364&catId=HOME-BOOKS&pushId=HOME-BOOKS&popId=HOME&navAction=top&navCount=42&color=020&isProduct=true&fromCategoryPage=true&isSubcategory=true&subCategoryId=HOME-BOOKS-DAILYWISDOM">Q&A A Day (A 5 Year Journal)</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Or this one. I like the idea of them both, the 5 year idea. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HT6UOD3EKcw/UGaPZKSdRcI/AAAAAAAAzN0/nh5ZFSEmCvE/s1600/one_line_a_day+II.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #ffe599;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HT6UOD3EKcw/UGaPZKSdRcI/AAAAAAAAzN0/nh5ZFSEmCvE/s1600/one_line_a_day+II.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/productdetail.jsp?id=20158929"><i>One Line A Day (A 5 Year Memory Book)</i></a></span></div>
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0Aiken, SC, USA33.5604168 -81.719553333.454563799999995 -81.8774818 33.6662698 -81.5616248tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-61138017310721240272012-09-16T13:30:00.001-04:002012-11-05T20:43:06.121-05:00It's something..<br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /><br />I think about writing - often. And when I come here to begin, I scroll through my unfinished, drafted posts and eventually lose interest or mental energy. Today, I'm ignoring all the posts I've not finished - especially the ones where I've no idea where I was going or any hint of a handle on the point I was trying to make. Admittedly though, I haven't deleted the drafted fragments. They may be brilliant.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A friend of mine recently shared with me that she had written something and will soon be published. <i>Amazing news!</i> I'm thrilled for her. While telling me her news, she also shared that the reason she pursued her writing was because of something I said to her once. <i>...That if she was truly interested, she should explore it and at least give it a shot.</i> I vaguely remember the conversation (it was years ago), but it sounds like something I would say (and mean) - and I'm happy for her that I did. It's surprising sometimes...the that things that stay with a person. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My heart is soft like mashed potatoes; my friend's dedicated words made me tear up. I do that. It also made me think; I do that sometimes as well. -- I don't write in the hopes that I'll be published. I'd be lying though, if I said I didn't want to be read - at least in this venue. In truth, I'm not sure why I write. And in reality, I haven't been doing much of it. But for reasons I've not yet been able to align my mind with, I'm encouraged from all directions <i>to</i> write. I'm not fishing for help in understanding this, I'm saying I'm not there yet. I'm also writing. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Act 1, Scene 2</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I attended a Diversity Summit this past Friday and for the first time (pardon the cliche </span>speak) - in a long time - I felt I was somewhere I was supposed to be; somewhere that made sense. I listened to genuinely inspired and passionate people speak. I was extended new analogies for concepts I'm quite familiar with - causing/allowing the boundaries & borders already established in my brain to expand; I <i><u>love</u></i> that. There was food throughout the day; good food, as conference food goes. And I could have eaten or not, and still been more nourished than I've been in years. The sessions I attended, the people I met (among them - a Paralympic gold medalist), and words I ingested - fed me. Dramatic? A bit. But if you know the whole (more recent) story, it's not unreasonable or even flowery. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In truth, I was hungry. I <i>am</i> hungry. But I wasn't mistaking Waffle House fare for fine dining simply out of that hunger. The Diversity Summit was good. Really good. And that, along with the words from my soon-to-be-published-friend (which are now acting as unintended reciprocal encouragement), have done...something. The trick to that <i>something</i>, is to not let it fall away as weeks and months pass; it too has to be fed. Grown. At the same time, in the grand scheme, the conference was only 1 day out of 1000. There is so much out there (again with the cliches), and it's beckoning like hell.<br /><br />Soledad O'Brien was the last speaker of the day. She referred briefly to the Starfish Story; a simple metaphor that spoke to me on at least two levels. But I'll get to that...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In the meantime, check out <a href="http://aop.artfulperception.com/courses/index">The Art of Perception</a> with/by Amy Herman. Brilliant. </span></span></div>
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-87558697714295851142011-11-21T12:23:00.000-05:002012-11-05T20:46:39.939-05:00<span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A friend of mine from high school posted this [on Facebook] a few weeks ago, and then another (very dear friend - regardless of the severe time and distance between us) posted it today. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Rather than sharing on Facebook, I want to post it here - not only because it's awe-inspiring and some amazing work by God - but because It stunned me mute. It's also a holy-shit-moment in contrast to my post just below about Grandmama. I can't imagine...but I bet she can ♥. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="320" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/31158841?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://vimeo.com/31158841">Murmuration</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user3069761">Sophie Windsor Clive</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</span>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-13113960842665051912010-09-10T13:28:00.002-04:002012-12-13T00:45:29.837-05:00Mourning the loss, celebrating the life...<span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tomorrow will mark a month, one month. I don't need to hear "she's in a better place". She is, I know that, and am genuinely thankful for it. I would never wish a single moment more of suffering only to keep her in my world. And I don't wish things to be different - I believe they are as they should be. Still I miss her every minute and with every fiber, cell, and particle I own. </span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyyeJ-kX1X54MGwq4uLzjwf075a1lVMjfJUFFIlBVqMWibKeBhdH8Hfus6zXLEMU6q4cB7oDQXacQtJ611oaw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is what I created to be shown at her service; thanks to my dear friend, Wayne, for helping me with the process and creating (with repeated and earnest effort) an extended version to include music from her funeral and two additional songs...just because I wanted them there :). </span></div>
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-18168669086381007912010-08-29T17:08:00.001-04:002013-04-17T00:08:30.659-04:00Hen's Teeth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/THrLvkQrU7I/AAAAAAAAo8I/one2GyGe3VE/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/THrLvkQrU7I/AAAAAAAAo8I/one2GyGe3VE/s400/images.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(Photo found on Google: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">http://tinyurl.com/cluckingbrood)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I mentioned previously that I was invited to co-author a collaborative blog: <b><a href="http://scarcehensteeth.blogspot.com/">Hen's Teeth</a></b>. I was asked by Nance - a friend who is also the mother of (stay with me) a girl (Paula) who was my dear friend when I attended Socastee High in Myrtle Beach. The Air Force life granted many gifts, and the M family (Nance, Bill, Paula, Marc, and Snickers) was/is certainly one them. I like to think of Nance as a mentor, despite the fact I've been somewhat of an absent student. She writes with eloquence, wisdom, wit, heart, and conviction. More importantly (to and for me), she is loving, supportive, and willing to push me when she sees fit. Back to the ladies... I'm honored to be a part of this brood of hens, and find them each to be uniquely lovely. The <a href="http://scarcehensteeth.blogspot.com/p/about.html">About tab</a> explains the concept of the blog perfectly.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Late and last to the game, I have finally posted over there (<a href="http://scarcehensteeth.blogspot.com/2010/08/hows-my-hair.html">How's my hair?</a>). If you are so inclined, please click over and take a look around - we would love to have you! If you dig something you read, please leave a comment (!)...we adore them and it's the only way we know you (specifically) were there! Otherwise, you may lurk (Nance's word) at your leisure.</span><br />
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</span></span>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-17853599030634372692010-08-12T15:15:00.023-04:002013-04-17T00:09:20.311-04:00Untitled<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I began a post last Saturday about my grandmother - about how she was doing, and what had been taking place over the last few weeks. I intend to complete that post (soon), shifting it into a before & after. The 'after' is now necessary as she left us yesterday morning just before 2:45am. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> ~ Martha Elizabeth ~ </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.mcneillfuneralhome.com/sitemaker/sites/southe0/obit.cgi?user=240332Meigs">Link to obituary</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I know and understand there is joy and grace to be found in her finally being relieved of her suffering and of the life that was ultimately no life at all. I know she is now with her mother whom she has missed deeply and intensely since her passing, and I believe she is now free from all illness, pain, and worry. Intellectually, I know these things. Emotionally, I'm not there. There is no right or wrong place to be; we each grieve differently. Where I am now...is not past the point of her being gone..not past counting days and hours. When I drove by the nursing home yesterday evening at 8:40pm, I could only think that I had been with her at that exact time the day before. ...She was <i>just</i> there. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In the space I'm in right now, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that we knew it was coming, or that it was inevitable. I'm calm in one moment and fall spectacularly </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">and uncontrollably to sobbing pieces the next. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">She has been a constant in my life and has filled more space in my heart than I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">can survey. Her role has been more than that of a grandmother </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">which </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">is so difficult to measure/express personally, because she was such a special </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">grandmother to all of us - I wasn't alone in receiving that incredible gift. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Last week I was nearly yelling at God; </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I slammed my hand on my steering wheel and cried out loud wanting to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">understand why she was here and suffering. And now He's taken her.. She's at peace, she's whole, walking, and well. I should be beeping the horn </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">and shouting in thanksgiving, finding comfort in resolution. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Instead, I find difficult to breathe and my heart is shattered. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I added a tag cloud out of curiosity; it's to right of this post → somewhere over there. No surprise. Even in the life of my writing, she has been the main character. And because there is *life* in my writing, my first task was to compose her obituary. Contradictory? Not really. It is an announcement of her death, but a statement about her <b>life</b>. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There are letters to various caretakers at NHC to follow, but for the moment, I'm here. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Not the most consistent writer in the Land of Blog, but beginning this very personal process... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Learning how to live without her. </span></div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-35866337749561811602009-12-29T16:48:00.003-05:002013-04-20T21:17:04.100-04:00Speaking of which...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><em>"What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say."</em></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">~ Ralph Waldo Emerson </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><em>"I have never met a man so ignorant that I couldn't learn something from him." </em></b></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;">~ Galileo Galilei</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><em>"Nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it."</em> </b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;">~ Michel de Montaigne</span></b></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><em>"Actions lie louder than words."</em></b> ~ Carolyn Wells</span></b></span></b></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;">And from Robert Frost...</span></b></span></b></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b>The rose is a rose,</b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>And was always a rose. </b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>But the theory now goes</b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>That the apple's a rose,</b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>And the pear is, and so's</b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>The plum, I suppose.</b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>The dear only know</b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>What will next prove a rose.</b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>You, of course, are a rose--</b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>But were always a rose.</b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;">Lastly, cutting from an e-mail...and quoting my dear friend, Shauntice:</span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><strong><em>"Love is not supposed to be confusing, angry, hurtful, and it certainly isn't unsure."</em> </strong></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal; white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;">She was spot on with everything she wrote in the e-mail that contained that sentence, which for me, was quotable. Love will be sure, for sure. </span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal; white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal; white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;">Signed,</span></b></span></span></b></span></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal; white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal;">Always a Rose</span></b></span></span></b></span></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></span></b></span></b></span></b></span></div>
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-8229522233583278692009-12-22T15:51:00.002-05:002013-04-17T00:09:56.361-04:00Treading water. With a brick.<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Completely endearing...I adore this [see clip]. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It's the reason this song is in my iTunes library. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It makes my heart happy. And so I'm posting it in lieu of writing...because my writing might lean back a bit toward bitter and I don't like the taste of that. Rather than hindsight being 20/20, I [somewhat painstakingly] appreciate the reality checks that come when most needed. I almost forgot what I'm supposed to remember, and was this close to acknowledging that I miss... Doh! Saved by a text message. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">You watch the video, and I'll be over here...putting something cool on this sting. </span><br />
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<embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ek1E2beuA2A&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-21255292313078251412009-10-06T12:30:00.008-04:002013-04-17T00:13:39.688-04:00Bama Boy<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Near the end of </span><a href="http://bamanda.blogspot.com/2009/09/swindled.html"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><b>this post</b></span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">, I mentioned an upcoming bet concerning the Alabama/Kentucky game. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Final score: Alabama 38, Kentucky 20. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Wildcat fan wore the shirt in his mother's and step-father's home, for the picture (flanked by blue of course), and the entire 7 hour drive home from Kentucky. The shirt may be a bit weathered, but I think it works. Made him look like a real fan...like he's been wearing it for years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Roll Tide!</span> <br />
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-73474718161898517712009-09-29T13:57:00.011-04:002013-04-17T00:14:34.843-04:00Hello, my name is Simon...<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">As previously <a href="http://bamanda.blogspot.com/2009/09/swindled.html"><b>mentioned</b></a>, I lost a bet (read: was hoodwinked) which resulted in my having to prepare seven dinners for Jason last week. Thankfully, the bet ended Sunday. Though I was fleeced, I held up my end and did so with a bit of finesse & variety - forcing him out of his usual ground beef-frocked diet of spaghetti and Hamburger Helper. To be fair, we both ate better than we typically do. To be honest, as an unmarried + childless, petless girl...I was a tad frazzled by the more intense, albeit temporary, schedule. My weekdays consist of work + colorguard practice or nursing home duty...landing me home around 7pm. (The beneficiary goes to bed by 8:30pm on work nights.) Eventually, I acclimated; he said he could "definitely get used to this" (as he casually sipped his beer and watched Pass Time on SPEED channel). Not a chance. My married and/or child-ful friends say..."welcome to my world". I say: not yet ;). I may get an apron though and wear it on Wednesdays. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It's in my nature to document, and more so to photograph. As consistently whined about, my camera has been sick. Some of the plates/presentations last week were really quite lovely (especially the last one). As an alternative, I opted to draw the menu for this post. As it turns out, I'm a wretched sketch artist. It's really quite bad. ...But funny-bad.</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">(Click to enlarge)</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jsEvbj9o9t4"><span style="color: black;">Original Simon (chalk drawings)...</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.hulu.com/watch/19309/saturday-night-live-simon"><span style="color: black;">SNL Simon with Mike Myers...</span></a></div>
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-88930629052062608472009-09-21T13:04:00.014-04:002013-04-17T00:15:00.745-04:00Swindled<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Though it's early in the season, I've commenced with the gameday bets; had fun with them last year. Of course, everything is better when Alabama is having a good season. Traffic lights are always green, cereal never gets stale, and the clouds are shaped like goal posts and elephants. </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The VA Tech game, though a little close for comfort, was fun b/c I have quite a few high school friends who went to or are fans of Tech. Recent reconnects on Facebook made for some delightful smack-talk in the weeks leading up to the game. The bet was simple. Joey, a high school friend, had to change his [Facebook] profile picture to the UA logo of my choosing following a Bama win. There is a bit more to the story - and it was a combined effort with Mollie and Meghan as guiding forces - but that's the gist. In truth...because of the way the stakes came about, I really had nothing to lose...though I'm sure Ray (another high school friend and Tech alum) would still be giving me crap. The screen shot below is of Joey's page. I just checked back, and though he could have done so last Thursday...he has yet to change from the Bama logo. In his heart of hearts, he must truly love the Crimson Tide. It's been fun to reconnect with these friends...they were great people in high school (I genuinely thought so...of each of them) and I really like the adult versions of them as well. Doesn't always turn out that way.</span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384086670835858658" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SrgeTQ8WPOI/AAAAAAAAfuE/QAzzREGxeKY/s400/Joey%27s+Page.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 272px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></span><br />North Texas. I have a sweet and lovely friend from work, Sandra, who went to North Texas... We discussed setting up some terms, but never decided on anything. It's North Texas; I didn't push it.<br />Upcoming contests. I have two Razorback friends (Brenna and Amy)...I'll touch base with them this week. Jason and I have a bet set up for the Kentucky game. Could be painful and involves a Kentucky flag in my front yard and drinking out a UK cup on command; the flip side...he wears a UA shirt into his step-father's home (a photo will be taken); he may be disowned. Seems fair.<br />Speaking of Jason and betrayal... Saturday night, I cleanly won two games of darts. We played a third game. If I won, he would buy the oil + filter...and change Sipsey's oil this week. If he won (after having just lost two games straight), I would have to make dinner for him each night for one week (beginning yesterday). He began swiftly, adeptly (and promptly I might add) kicking my ass. Shark. He swears he got lucky. Hustler. I've seen him clear a pool table; I'm not sure I'm buying it. I should have known right then; blame it on the ah ah ah ah alcohol.<br />I burned the taco shells last night...maybe if I keep burning things...<br />Red beans & rice + cornbread tonight. </span>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-72888606119113289242009-09-09T14:50:00.000-04:002012-10-29T21:31:35.846-04:00Pardon the cliche'...<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">There is someone for everyone. You'll find it/him when you stop looking. You'll find it/him when you least expect it. All things happen in good time. All good things happen in God's time. Walk your own path. What is right for one person, may not be right for another. We each have our own timeline... There is no right answer. There is no wrong answer. Each dark cloud has a silver lining. There is always something to be learned... You'll find him... Your "prince" will come. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Be independent. Be able to change your own tire. Be able to drive a stick shift. Be self-sufficient in all ways. Though you may need to at some point, organize and prepare yourself so that you don't have to depend on anyone for anything. Don't assume you can trust anyone. Keep your guard up. Take care of yourself. Be cautious. Get a pet. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Be sure you're open... Give him a chance. Give it a chance. Don't give up on it. Be patient. Be aware that what you thought you were looking for, may not be what God has in mind for you. Let your guard down a bit... In order to get something different than what you've had, you'll have to do something different than what you've done.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Love conquers all. If you love something, set it free... All is fair in love and war. Love is blind. Love is a many splendored thing. It's better to have loved and lost... Love is a battlefield. Love is just love. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Dammit. </span>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-18155891378086387552009-07-28T21:15:00.005-04:002013-04-17T00:15:36.415-04:00July 28, 2005<div align="center">
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><strong>4 years ago today...</strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/Sm-i8qy-EyI/AAAAAAAAecg/K3oBnKVMSe0/s1600-h/IMG.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363684844385473314" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/Sm-i8qy-EyI/AAAAAAAAecg/K3oBnKVMSe0/s400/IMG.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 322px;" /></a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><strong> Love and miss you, PaPaw.</strong></span> </span></div>
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Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-30171759494197935262009-07-22T12:12:00.016-04:002012-10-29T21:35:30.285-04:00Triple Word Score (amended)<div align="center">
<span style="color: #ffe599;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">So. I've begun making Scrabble™ tile pendants. </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Still learning; I've not perfected my process. </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The tiles aren't perfect either, but if it were me...I'd choose one with a bit of character - so I welcome flaws. When shopping, I always choose the one (elephant figurine, </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">piece of jewelry, whatever) that is most interesting to me. </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Note: this concept (choose most interesting when shopping) does not apply to fresh fruits, veggies, meat. </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Just thought to share a few of the tiles I've made so far... </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I gave Lindsay two for her birthday; she put them on with the pendant she was wearing at the time. </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Posting this one because you can't see the one on the left as well in the 3rd photo.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Picture from LB at work... Stoked that the new pendant is wearable!!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: trebuchet ms;">...And the next day...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Nicole with her frog!!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: trebuchet ms;">The kitty was made for Lisa; she has worn it - I just need a picture. I was surprised at how much I liked it! The tile with circles (to the right of the cat) was made for Sandra...which she just learned about yesterday :). </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: trebuchet ms;">I've worn the bird and the one on the far right... </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: trebuchet ms;">I don't like the butterfly, but Angel does...so she shall have it. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: trebuchet ms;">The end. </span></div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-2161392148171489642009-07-10T14:15:00.007-04:002012-10-29T21:41:09.949-04:00Sticks and stones. Actually...just stones.<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: #ffe599;">It's nearly mid-July...w<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>?!! I've been preoccupied with all things kidney-stone in the last few weeks. By <em>preoccupied</em>, I mean I've felt like hell. Like the stone, those feelings have passed. ...Though I have determined "pass" to be too passive a verb for the process. Deliver or exorcise (thanks, Ray) would be more applicable verbs.<br /><br />The experience included a brief hospital stay and an initial <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">misdiagnosis</span> as they couldn't see any stones in the CT scan <em>with</em> contrast that was performed. Had a scan <em>without</em> contrast been performed first, things might have gone a little differently. At least, they would have treated it/me differently. Though it's not a my best side, I've been living with this for several weeks and have no inhibition in regard to sharing my x-ray. In fact, I'd like to; it explains my absence.<br /><br />With the help of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Darra</span> and Renee, the stone was [not so] fondly named Monti B.. I referred to it as the Rock of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Gibraltar</span>, at which point...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Darra</span> referenced Mont <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Blanc</span>. Monti makes Mont cuter...(though there is nothing cute about it), and B...which could stand for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Blanc</span>...actually stands for bitch. Thus we have, Monti B.. </span><br /><br /></span><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SleFU72GXoI/AAAAAAAAdFk/EwbxbvAsiwA/s1600-h/Rock+with+text..jpg"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356896876488973954" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SleFU72GXoI/AAAAAAAAdFk/EwbxbvAsiwA/s400/Rock+with+text..jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 279px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></span></a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br /><span style="color: #ffe599;">I realize people suffer far worse illnesses and the above, the size (we measured) of a small blueberry, probably does not seem all that daunting. Nonetheless, it's been unpleasant. I'm thankful it wasn't more complicated & that it's over. I hope not to experience it again. However... If my body does form future mineral/crystal aggregations - I'm also thankful to know that I have lovely family & friends will be around to help if needed...they were this time <3 .="."></3></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: trebuchet ms;">More to post soon; want to get this up tonight for Trey :).</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"></span>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-54390578333916682132009-05-17T17:35:00.020-04:002010-08-12T12:48:07.908-04:00Weighted<div align="left"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">I mentioned to a friend that I hadn’t posted anything recently because all that had been on my mind had been fairly heavy. True. Not that I don’t enjoy/appreciate a blog with some weight to it, but my writing tends to tilt toward random fluff. For the moment, as I sit next to my Grandmother while she sleeps…I’ve decided writing the heavier might be cathartic. My life has a lot of natural light, perhaps acknowledging the shade will provide for a nice balance - as with photography. We shall see. Then too, I'm not a photographer, I'm also not a writer. I fear my friends are all talked/listened out on this particular topic (Grandmama). If nothing else, they know my heart and my love for this very special woman. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336970981820752242" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/ShC61Nv-YXI/AAAAAAAAZyA/2TCCGdsAsZo/s400/IMG_5030.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /> (Taken 5.9.09) </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">This evening, the front hall of the Magnolia Wing (of Grandmama's nursing home) is quiet; the back hall, however, is buzzing with activity…as someone has just “expired”. There are loved ones to be informed, procedures to be followed, paperwork to be processed, and roommates to be moved. We don’t usually know when someone passes; they have a discreet set of doors at the end of each wing and certainly don’t ring a bell or make an announcement. We learned of the death because there happens to be a CNA working this evening who suffers from a complete lack of tact and a gift for remarkably inappropriate word choice + information sharing.</span></div><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">This July, it will have been one year since Grandmama moved into NHC (the nursing home). It was a year ago this February & March that she began having such consistent trouble, repeated hospitalizations, a bleed in her brain, a reaction to the plasma intended to help with the blood loss…which led to a terrifying stint in the neuro-ICU. The weeks followed with time in Select Specialty Hospital, back to University Hospital, and so on… Initially, the placement @ NHC (the area nursing home of choice) was presented as short-term…physical therapy intensive…readying her to go home. I knew <em>then</em> she’d never return to her home again. As difficult as that was and is, it’s also for the best; her medical needs far outweigh what my Grandfather and I were/are able to provide (as those who were living with her). We did give a powerful and valiant effort. Is there a word which means something more than valiant, but also…slightly hopeless? Pedaling furiously…on a stationary bike, hoping that you’ll make it to your destination of choice even though you're not moving? My Grandfather is a stubborn man and held out much longer, based on a promise he’d made to her…that he’d never put her in a nursing home.<br />
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I digress…less background, more of the present.<br />
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Grandmama is often confused…doesn’t understand where she is or why. Then other days, she shares that she wishes she’d had some say in this “placement”…no one asked if her she wanted to live here, or what she thought of this place. It’s the in-between that makes it so hard; on the rare days, she is just coherent enough to know that she’s losing her senses. Her eyes are still very blue, but now always glazed…and seem very far off. My Aunt Brenda calls where she [Grandmama] is, that far off place, her “other place”. The other place is sometimes a dream-world; not a world made of all she could ever dream of…but a world composed of nothing but her dreams; mainly non-sensical stories. Children hiding under her bed, bags full of dogs, milk in her bed linens, the kitten water she’d been made to drink…Those stories, though upsetting (and not shared to diminish her personal integrity in anyway), are the more pleasant. It’s the more violent ones…where she’s been taken to the woods and stripped naked, witnessed the murder of a set of twin babies, or Is convinced Granddaddy is having an affair and also in jail for murder… Those daymares (my word) - delusions (psychological/medical term), are cruel and there is generally no talking her out them.<br />
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</span><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">The exchange that instigated this post took place this past Wednesday. Having spent so much time with her and acting as a caretaker for the last several years she was at home, I am often able to anticipate her needs (as anyone in a similar situation would be…and as all of us who spend a great deal of time with her - are). I noticed she was having trouble breathing; she said she just needed to blow her nose. She can often be the Girl who Cried Nose-Blow..as she’ll do anything to get that oxygen tubing out of her nose/and off her face. She wasn’t able to blow her nose, and I still felt like she didn’t sound quite right… I requested that the nurse do an O2 check, and though they had just taken her vitals (she read at 99%), this time (the re-check)…she read at 91%. Since she felt “stopped up” we thought it might be the tubing; thus it was replaced along with the little water bottle that acts as a humidifier for her 02 machine.<br />
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Afterwards, she still looked so distressed. Her blues eyes - very worried, and her brow furrowed in deep creases. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she didn’t know… I reframedBama </span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/ShCchdWSMJI/AAAAAAAAZu4/7DLao5HN01Q/s1600-h/fry-guysfry-kids-76091.jpg"></a><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">shaker (read: pom pom type thing used to cheer on the Crimson Tide). So I taped it to her closet door, directly in front of her bed. I taped it with handle-part down and against the wood, with the streamers hanging over it. It looks like McDonald’s fry-guy, but it’s a familiar object.<br />
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She didn’t think it would help…and I offered to take it down. She often gets frustrated with Granddady or one of my uncles who rushes when helping her with meals, but will never speak her mind – never express her frustration. I told her explicitly, right then (referring to the other times she had not spoken her mind), that if she wanted me to stop…to just say so. She said…”I don’t want to play this game anymore.” I apologized and said okay – clarifying that it wasn’t meant as a game – that I was only trying to help. <em>“I’m here for you, Grandmama, that's all”…</em> A sentence which certainly contained more personal weight than was intended for it’s immediate context.<br />
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<div align="left"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">I was frustrated. It hurts my heart to see her like this and I feel so helpless when there is nothing I can do to make anything better for her. </span></div><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">She stared out of the window for a few minutes, and then said… “The shaker will be perfect, because it will remind me of you.” I leaned over to hug her…and could not hold back my tears. I sat back down and we just sat there…holding hands…both crying. Again, she was looking off…not even out of the window, but somehow at a space right before it. She squeezed my hand and said…”let’s not cry anymore”. I replied…”yes ma’am”…and sat back in the recliner so that I was out her sight-line, and cried until I stopped. Damn. Talk about gravity of words...of a moment. I took her words metaphorically.<br />
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I trust in God‘s timeline, but do not understand it…not In her case. She no longer receives joy from anything and is hardly allowed to experience any variation of emotion or feeling… If she’s upset and can’t be calmed, she’d medicated. I too, want her to be comfortable. …But what about quality of life? I know there are those who live through far worse - without the care and benefits we are afforded. I pray that I am someday able to see the good in this situation…the positive that can be taken from it. It’s not as though the time we are being granted with her is quality time, and it's not as though there is anyone she's waiting on or wanting to see; there are no open pieces that need closure. Those who are employed by her stay will remain employed…jobs will not be lost, and for the most part…it’s not brought our family any closer together. Ultimately, I know it's simply not her time yet. The mind still reels.. Perhaps it is to keep my Grandfather alive. Perhaps I should be still, and be thankful. And know that after we brush her teeth and wash her face after dinner…she’ll enjoy the Oil of Olay being put on her face and neck…and the other lotions massaged into her arms and fingers. She always closes her eyes when I do that. And I always kiss her forehead.<br />
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<div align="center"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">(Grandmama & Kimmey...Mother's Day...5.10.09)</span></div>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-50183641054884538212009-04-17T13:49:00.008-04:002009-04-17T15:56:47.872-04:00Birthday-versary<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;">Happy birthday or anniversary to my blog :). </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;">Birthdays are anniversaries. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SejBT0U2mgI/AAAAAAAAYVY/HI1aZqARY7g/s1600-h/cupcake.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325719105573394946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 395px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SejBT0U2mgI/AAAAAAAAYVY/HI1aZqARY7g/s400/cupcake.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;">(Found on Flickr...couturecupcakerymm's photostream)</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">Tangent: It makes me a litle crazy when people refer to monthly milestones as "anniversaries". Example... We've been dating for 3 months...Happy Anniversary!! </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">Technically, it would be a mensiversary. I realize that doesn't exactly spring to mind or off the tongue...and the latin word "mensis" - for month - makes me think of menses...so then I don't want to say <em>Happy Mensiversary</em>. I've settled on Happy Monthiversary. ...just not Happy Anniversary unless it's appropriate.</span></div><p align="left"></p>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-40090045496288587092009-04-01T12:49:00.017-04:002012-10-29T21:57:26.738-04:00Happy Birthday, Dad!!!<div align="center">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SdObZlsPLaI/AAAAAAAAXUQ/iHqgIrNOSu0/s1600-h/IMG_3982-1.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319766448771378594" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SdObZlsPLaI/AAAAAAAAXUQ/iHqgIrNOSu0/s400/IMG_3982-1.JPG" style="display: block; height: 322px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="color: #ffe599;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> I c</span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">an't</span> seem to wrangle my thoughts into any sort of fenced in eloquence this afternoon... </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So for the time being, I'll simply celebrate the day & gift of his birth. </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'll celebrate the interesting, intelligent, diversely talented, accomplished, hard-working, funny, soft-hearted, and lovely man he is, a</span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">nd I'll celebrate </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">his life.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And as I do everyday, I'll thank God for him...and be grateful he (Dad) chose a life with me. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Happy Birthday, Dad!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">~ All my love... ~</span></div>
Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-36788932215401382072009-03-03T23:50:00.002-05:002009-03-04T08:40:27.120-05:00Demetri Martin<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/Sa1zYh22bjI/AAAAAAAAV_Q/M-gCmFLMCfM/s1600-h/Demetri-Martin-c01.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309026400982167090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/Sa1zYh22bjI/AAAAAAAAV_Q/M-gCmFLMCfM/s400/Demetri-Martin-c01.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">Very smart (smart = book). </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">Super clever (clever = witty). </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">Love (love = adore) it/<a href="http://www.demetrimartin.com/"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">him</span></a>. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">I came across his stand-up act on Comedy Central...and a couple of weeks later, noticed that Kristin had become a fan of <a href="http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/important_things/index.jhtml"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">Important Things with Demetri Martin</span></a> on Facebook. I recorded it; watched it. New favorite. He's been around for awhile...I'm just new. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">You can read more about him <a href="http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/important_things/demetri/index.jhtml"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">here</span></a> or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demetri_martin"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">here</span></a>...or wherever Google takes you.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">The show comes on Comedy Central...Wednesday nights...10:30 EST. Try it on for size :). </span></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">P.S. I have his stand-up CD (iTunes). Outside of the fact that he says the "r" word a million times (or at all), I love what I've heard so far. </span></div></div>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-80948548470287805062009-03-02T15:05:00.005-05:002009-03-03T13:27:34.064-05:00One less Rose<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/Saw9JKz5CzI/AAAAAAAAV_A/XsEnK2ihmUc/s1600-h/3.5+pounds.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308685288493091634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 364px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/Saw9JKz5CzI/AAAAAAAAV_A/XsEnK2ihmUc/s400/3.5+pounds.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;">To update: Grandmama spent a few days in the hospital and was released back to the nursing home with a PIC line; she continued on antibiotics until the 23rd and was able to have the PIC removed. She's improved immensely...my time with her Saturday and Sunday (as in yesterday and the day before) was amazing. She was so clear... I keep thinking her highs and lows are off the charts...then visualize either a broken needle (unable to chart her properly), or a snarky bird with a bent beak...which of course would be if she lived in the Flintstones and the same bird who played the records had to chart her. Nevermind. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"><br />Sadly... Her brother (my great uncle), Buddy, passed away Friday morning... He's the first of her siblings to pass...she's the oldest, incidentally. He's not been well for some time...since his most recent stroke, he's not known anyone or been responsive. Brenda, Max, Mike, and Teresa were able to attend the service today in Greensboro, AL. *sigh* Uncle Buddy...<br /><br />Weighing in...for (February) 23rd...I had a 1 pound loss. Another Coke.<br /><br />For today, 3.5. I usually stay with whole numbers, but for some reason...today, I'll take a half. Hence...the 3.5 pound trout. I lost a trout. A Coke and a trout. Good thing they went with "Have a Coke and a smile".<br /><br />So much more to ramble about...so little time.<br /><br />Love.<br /><br /></span>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-1601435797783701352009-02-16T12:50:00.011-05:002009-02-16T22:46:29.611-05:00Even Steven<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SZnW2alMz-I/AAAAAAAAVz0/ioe1fSGin3Q/s1600-h/DOCUMENT.TIF.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303506266542100450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 341px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SZnW2alMz-I/AAAAAAAAVz0/ioe1fSGin3Q/s400/DOCUMENT.TIF.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">I didn't post last Monday...and I didn't weigh. I had eaten nothing but trash and knew I had gained. Though I no longer have [monthly] pyramids, I am convinced my non-existent cycle still syncs up with the ladies in my office (either that, or their hormones leap off of their bodies and onto mine) because I had an insatiable craving for chocolate last week. At any rate, I let myself get away with not weighing until Wednesday...whence-upon I forced myself out of bad/avoidant behavior and onto the scale. As predicted, I had gained the <a href="http://bamanda.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-is-fun-part.html"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">puppy</span></a> back. </span><div><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">I straightened myself up for the remainder of the week and weighed today like a good Weight Watchers girl. I've lost the puppy again, and am precisely where I was two weeks ago. Splendid. Way to break even, Amanda. Must. Press. On. </span></div><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"><strong>In other news....</strong></span></div><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">The drawring (hello my name is Simon, and I like to do draw-rings...) was doodled during a meeting; I have a new found affection for owls. I call this one Henry. Clearly. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">When typing the title for this post, I realized I had no idea where the saying came from... <a href="http://www.jstor.org/pss/455146"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">This</span></a> is what I found. Incidentally, I was going to write 'even stephen' as this particular explanation indicates it may originally have been; plus, that's how my Dad's name is spelled. I thought it might throw people though; I decided to go with the safer of the two options. </span></div><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">I had about 4 inches chopped off of my hair on Saturday...I'll post a picture soon. </span></div><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;">Grandmama was admitted to the hospital Friday evening; we spent the majority of the weekend with her there. Please keep her in yours prayers/thoughts. ...I'm praying for her comfort and for peace of heart & mind - all things she is seemingly without. It is positively heart-breaking. </span></div></div>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2743628333685674990.post-63418105425480735362009-02-06T20:34:00.007-05:002009-02-08T00:51:57.666-05:00The Boy<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"><strong>~ Winston <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Meigs</span> ~</strong> </span></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;">9/13/01 - 2/6/09</span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;">Winston was a sweet & handsome boy with a lovable personality; he was often admired by strangers and fellow Airedale enthusiasts. </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;">A smart boy, he was valedictorian of his obedience school class, obeyed his parents, and enjoyed the comfort of his daily routine. Winston loved to play with his "monkey" (any stuffed squeaky toy), and preferred to spend his time in the cool of the air-conditioned indoors...rather than the dry Arizona heat (he was born in Colorado). He's been with Dad & Maggie 7 of the 11 years they've been married...this certainly leaves a palpable hole in their now 2-member household. He will be dearly missed and remembered lovingly as he brought them so much joy. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"></span></div><br /><div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlCkiZlhI/AAAAAAAAVoo/B7fZfhJl3VE/s1600-h/ry%253D400.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlCkiZlhI/AAAAAAAAVoo/B7fZfhJl3VE/s400/ry%253D400.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlCvQXFsI/AAAAAAAAVow/xLP4T5QtMhw/s1600-h/ry%253D4002.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlCvQXFsI/AAAAAAAAVow/xLP4T5QtMhw/s400/ry%253D4002.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlCsHmq1I/AAAAAAAAVo4/9ToaNhSzsq0/s1600-h/ry%253D4004.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlCsHmq1I/AAAAAAAAVo4/9ToaNhSzsq0/s400/ry%253D4004.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlCwYbxII/AAAAAAAAVpA/n7_hExwVDao/s1600-h/12.05.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlCwYbxII/AAAAAAAAVpA/n7_hExwVDao/s400/12.05.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299862933027370306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sq1vJx6hoqg/SYzlQflbNUI/AAAAAAAAVpI/Q-H0jJWYxRQ/s400/IMG_3972.JPG" border="0" /></p>Amandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08844030295079945911noreply@blogger.com0