The Semicolon and Me.

If you know me, and you should by now, if you've been reading the nearly 700 blog spots that are on this blog, you would know that I am a writer. I am an English major, I hold a Masters in English, but also another Masters track in Writing.  When you write you find yourself using several different punctuation marks to help your readers better understand your message; we all know this.  One of the most misunderstood, misused, and misplaced punctuation marks is (the) Semicolon.  I really shouldn't even have capitalized it just now, but because it is going to be referred to as a proper noun I will do so.  

 

Semicolon can be a little tricky bastard at times. Webster’s Dictionary says (and I quote) “a punctuation mark; used chiefly in a coordinating function between major sentence elements (such as independent clauses of a compound sentence)” When I teach my English students, I tell them that Semicolon (not capitalized) is not two words but one. They argue, I prove, we move forward.  I also teach them that Semicolon was not introduced into civil language until the mid-1500s in the Italian language, but because it is the very same symbol that the Greeks used for their question mark, it is considerably older, and it enjoys a dual responsibility.  Semicolons separate clauses rather than introducing them. Semicolons are meant to be yield signs, if you will. I tell them they can use it to replace a comma, they can use it to separate independent clauses, and they can use it to separate dependent clauses from independent clauses. It’s usually about that time I tend to lose a few kids; only the strong minded will survive.  

Today, Semicolon (remember, it’s a name now, not a mark) is being utilized once again as a means of recognition or awareness for various mental issues, depression, or even suicide awareness.  It’s for this cause I’ve decided to add Semicolon to my wrist as a way to show the world that I too am standing with them in their struggles; I want to yield to their needs. If I can be a better servant to someone I want to be, and if they can glance over and see that I have Semicolon prominently placed on my left wrist they may be brave enough to reach out and speak to me about whatever it is that haunting them. Maybe I can answer a question for them. Maybe I can give them a light to take down their path. It’s worth a little ink and pain to be able to help a would-be victim of mental anguish. 

There was a time I would say that I don’t get depressed; I get angry instead. For the most part this statement is true. I just simply never have had the time to be depressed and I was one of those jerks who would say “Get over it”, “push through it”, “stop whining” and so forth. I was always quite capable of pulling myself out of a funk by either working out, writing, going horseback riding, or just being bull-headed enough to force myself to stop feeling sorry for myself. I had things to do, I didn’t have time to sit around moping! That was me. Jerk.  

As an adult I have worked with the mentally ill at the state level through an agency job that led me to a new level of understanding. I know there are still those who just don’t want to recover and prefer to stay under the pressure; the pressure is familiar to them, and whether or not it is a good thing it is a familiar thing; therefore, they accept their fate with it. I want to be able to change that for even one person who chooses to believe in themselves or will choose to allow Jesus the opportunity to change their fate for them. 

So, there it is. Maybe 2020 sucked for the most part for most of the people I know, but it’s made me more aware of the need to be ready and willing to reach out to try and help. Next week I’ll try to find a tattoo artist who can dot me up and give me the all too powerful Semicolon (again, no capitalizing. I don’t want one of my students saying it’s OK because I did it!) Let’s do this.  

Blueberry Avocado Smoothie - - Yes, Please.

 I already know what you're thinking....you want me to come over to your place and make you a blueberry avocado smoothie like the one I am drinking right now, right? Oh, if you only knew how amazing they are you wouldn't wait on me to drive my happy self over there. You'd be all up in your kitchen dancing around the Nutri-Bullet with a purpley-heavenly twinkle in your eye!  It's that good. 

I don't know who it was that introduced me to avocado smoothies, I'm just going to go ahead and give the credit to one of my California friends because avocado trees sprout up just about everywhere in the Golden State. It's next to impossible to go a day in California without someone offering you an avocado. They chop them up for dips, add them to salads, make sandwich toppers of them and even yes, blend them in smoothies to make your drink not only rich to look at, but oh so creamy to drink. Doing it! Just, DOING IT!

OK so you start out with about 10 things to make this great drink. You'll need a high speed blender thingy of some sort, I prefer the Nutri-Bullet because it's been so good to me in the past. I've never once had a issue with it other than maybe one blown gasket - easy fix.  You must have the following: a medium avocado, about 1/3 cup of frozen or fresh blueberries. I use the frozen so it's like an actual smoothie when I'm done.  You need heavy whipping cream and milk, honey, chia seeds or flax, and I add probiotic liquid and a raw egg.  After adding everything together in no particular order, I blend it for about 30-40 seconds and take the canister off the Nutri-Bullet to shake it up before blending it 30-40 more seconds. I just want to be sure it's completely blended. 

When you screw off the blade you make a determination of how thick you may want your smoothie to be. You may love it, or you may want to add more milk. Either way, you'll have a really nice thick, rich, creamy, lovely drink before you and when your tastebuds reach it you'll know why they choose to stay with you a little while longer. OMG it is soooo good. So so good. If you don't believe me, well, you're loss not mine, because I'm doing this a bit more often now that I remembered I loved them years ago. When I messaged my best friend about it just a few minutes ago she asked me if they were another one of those Celtic weird things that I found online that I decided to try. I reminded her that I've been eating avocados since we were in high school together, and that no, it's a thing! It's a real thing! (But if it doesn't have the words Dr. Pepper in it Jeannie may not really be all that interested.) 

Just looking at it makes me happy I remembered it. My brain must have been doing some mental push ups trying to bring the thought from the back of my memories to the forefront of my skull tonight. I haven't had an avocado smoothie in forever it seems.  Well, it won't be the last. Nope, tomorrow I'm off to the store to buy more fruits, different types of frozen things such as strawberries, peaches, mango and pineapple and maybe even some cherries! OH WOW...cherry avocado smoothies sound even better than blueberry avocado smoothies. I could even add a bit of super greens to them and have a really powerful drink - - maybe even a "Send-Ya-To-The-Moon" type of drinks! Where's my spacesuit? Will it still fit? I hope so, I'm taking off, this stuff is awesome.

What I really like about it is it's not too sweet and it's not boring. It's thick enough and has enough protein to be a meal replacement; that means it can be....DINNER!  Done!  God, thank you for your perfectness. Thank you for your willingness to share a wee bit of Heaven with us here on this Earth. I am in awe of your splender.  (sighs a good sigh) :) 

Hurricane Laura - - SERIOUSLY? LAURA?

 OK, OK, OK, if they wanted to call the Cat 5 storm Caitlyn or Caity I would completely understand. I would be the first to tip my hat and say "Yes, you've got that right!"  Caity (though amazingly stunning to look at) can bowl over anyone and everyone either who happen to simply be in her way, or by her personal choice. Why do you think I've always tried my hardest to be on the good side of my wee child? She's a FREAKING FREAK OF NATURE at times, but NO, now they've gone off and named a larger than life monster of a whirl with my 2nd child's name - Laura!  How in the world can anyone be afraid of Laura? No one would take it too seriously if the storm would actually act like Laura does. EVEN when she's mad as hell she's apologizing to everyone and though she may be cursing a blue streak she would be courteous enough to do so in her own little world as to not truly do any real harm.  Laura!  I am just sitting over here shaking my head laughing. Who names a storm LAURA?

If you're going to name a spontaneous natural weather event after Laura Stringfellow it would need to be more along the lines of a sweeping wind with a little rain thrown in, maybe two bolts of lightning for effect. Of course, you'd want those lightning strikes to remain in the air and never actually aimed at any thing in particular. If there simply HAD TO BE damage, it would maybe take out  an already dead tree standing in a field so that IF it caught fire nothing could be devastated by it. She'd be sure and rain a little extra over that said dead tree before striking it to be certain there was nothing to be afraid of. THIS is Laura!  

Laura isn't without her strong points, no, believe me, she's as tough as nails and stronger than whiskey when it comes to training horses. Beasts over 1200 pounds will scamper to it when told to do so by the boss mare, but to try and pen a natural disaster on her is just ludicrous.  Maybe an exceptionally hot day in May or a colder night in October - for a few hours just to make a point! (and then, the apologies for having inconvenienced any of you.) 

NOPE...it simply won't do. Perhaps when they get around to the C's again they'll name a storm after the Queen of wrath, CAITY. Of course, if they do they'll need a new category level to ratchet it up to, 160 mph simply will not do! Nothing less than 300 miles per hour could truly capture the force that is my baby when she's been pissed to the point that she feels you need to be shred slowly over a churning endless spiral of wicked beating hail and torrent rains.  Poor Laura, her friends have taken to calling and messaging her to give her a bit of grief over NOAA's choice of names for this 2020 hurricane to end all hurricanes. I am NOT kidding you, I hear her apologizing to them online - - as if.  So funny, what's next? Will someone call an unseasonably mild day "A Reuben"?  Please God, no. He'd own that! He would SIMPLY OWN that.

Wrong Number Friend.

 Back in 1986 I had a phone number that when you spelled out the numbers on the dial pad was 728-PRAY. I can't tell you how many times I was woken in the middle of the night with calls from people who truly needed someone to pray for them and with them.  We had the ability to put our phones on silent even back then; all you had to do was leave the receiver off the hook! (I know I just lost about 2000 kids on that one..."What's a receiver? What's a hook?")  I don't recall any one particular call that was made, but I can tell you that God blessed me at all hours of the night with new experiences, new prayers to share, words of comfort that I didn't come up with myself, but that the Holy Spirit through me could be blessed and Jesus glorified. It was an amazing thing really - and I don't know if I would have changed my number even if it had become obnoxious. 

Today, basically 34 years later, I find myself in another odd and fun situation via the telephone. About once a month someone will misdial on their end and end up texting me. Most of the time it's just a simple "Hey I'm on my way home", but because I don't recognize the number, and their name isn't popping up on my little flat screen I text back to let them know they may have reached the wrong person. Now and again the person ignores my response and either texts back to say they can't text because they're driving, or they ask me what I want from the store before they get home.  LOL...I always answer that one. In my best sweet text style possible I add "Oh you know, my favorite candy and maybe you'll get something sweet after dinner."  Then I smile to myself, knowing I've possibly helped a poor soul in their stagnant relationship.

This afternoon a person texted me from an area code very close to my own. When that happens I know they were trying to reach the person with my actual number, but with another area code probably. I typically let them know, but again, as mentioned before, the person ignored my response that could have let them off the hook - - I said hook again -- and they began texting rapidly asking questions about dinner and whether or not my new DVD set of Game of Thrones had arrived. I answered in the negative regarding the GOT as I was never really a fan anyway, my kids love the show, but it's far too bloody and gory for my tastes.  Because I could, and because I had already crossed the line with my GOT answer, I decided to let my new texting friend know that dinner would be a la carte, we could go through the fridge and try to find things to piece together. She/He wasn't having it and insisted on ordering Chinese food.  OK, texted back that it sounded fantastic, and they knew what I liked. (I assumed the knew what I l liked)

Nearly 18 minutes into our conversation the man/woman on the other end asked me what I had been doing all day.  I decided to tell the truth.  "Oh, (I said) my Scottish New Testament came in and I've been reading it. I'm just blown over that John the Baptist et locust and bumbee hinnie!"  There was silence. No more texting. I assumed that my new friend had finally figured it out and that he/she would either bow out graciously or say something like "Why did you let me go on this long?"  Neither of these two things happened.  Instead the person texted again saying "Bumbee hinnie? Is that the same as bumblebee honey?"  I rolled over laughing. 

I answered my friend in the affirmative, then began rolling off one-line passages that I felt were just too hilarious in the Scots language to pass up. I wrote out a line and to my ultimate surprise my texter wrote back what he/she thought it said or meant. Often times the person truly inspired me to find more challenging passages - - I felt a pang of guilt having developed a new relationship that was never mine to begin with. I decided to tell the truth.  I said and I quote myself now, "Friend, I have to be honest with you, this is not who you think it is. My name is Jude, I live in Oklahoma City, not Atlanta. I think you mistakenly typed the 405 rather than the 404 area code. I have had fun however and I hope you have a safe drive home."  Again there was silence.

About 11 minutes later I received another text from the same number. It read (and I should post the actual photo of it from my phone, but I don't want to give away their identity) "New friend, I think I am the one who should apologize to you. I knew in the first minutes you were not my dad, but I let you go on to see how long you would. I really think I want to go to Barnes and Noble and buy a Scottish bible."  My answer was simple "Do it".  I have no idea if my texter will call back, if we'll ever find out who each other really are, but one thing is for sure, you can never know who is on the other side of the wire even if you felt you dialed the right number and realized you did not. There's a world of people out there who may just need someone to listen to, to talk to, to share with, to be a good friend.  DO IT. (I double-dog dare ye!) 

SHEDDING!!!

 OMG, seriously OMG, I lost another pound in one day. I know why - - I probably danced 11 hours yesterday.  No, I'm joking but damn, I danced most of the day and into the night too. Torpedoes be damned and rammed right back where you came from because this girl has decided to make something happen. NOTHING can stop me. (Take heed Satan, don't even try!) This is a work of Jesus, this is a glory to Him. I won't spend a lot of time going over it, but this morning I stood on the scale knowing there would be a slight difference. You can't take in 1200 calories and burn 5000 without there being a difference somewhere even if it's only water. When I say I danced 11 hours I'm not far off actually.  Sometimes I picked it up and pushed it, other times I merely moved around, but I didn't stop. Laura came out of her room at least twice to tell me to take it easy, not to over do it. She knows me. I often over do things.

OK, that's it, not a big blog this time. Just a wee note, but it's a good note. 

I gotta go feed Sam, he's sitting on my right hand as I type - - not an easy thing to deal with. Fat yellow cat! Thanks for listening, reading, caring, praying. THANK YOU JESUS!  (1 more down so many to go, but it will be this way until it's finished.)

YES! The Taste of Grass and Dirt.

 There probably aren't many of us out there, but there are enough of us that the health and beauty industry has continued to press on with sweet (wrong choice of words) tasting healthy super foods for us to use and become more and more...well, SUPER!  For me it's the greens, the organic soil rich tasting greens powder that you buy and mix with water, milk, juice, aloe vera, just about any liquid you choose so that all of your inner guts will be nearly instantaneously bombarded with pumped up earthy antioxidants so strong you feel as if your tongue and throat have been coated with a layer of genuine red clay.  LOVE that. Love the taste of dirt; always have.  When you add the wheat grass, the lemon grass, or all the other grassy grasses they combine in these products there is no wonder more people leave the canisters right on the shelf, but not me.  

Losing weight is paramount in my mind right now, but along that journey's rustic old path, the one I've traveled a number of times, is the newer cut path of more recent ingenuity - greens.  Dieting is good, we should all keep an eye on our diet, however the word "dieting" carries far too many connotations with no way of understanding exactly what it means to everyone using the word. For me, dieting is not just cutting out sugary foods and carbs. I like my carbs, in fact I eat plenty of them in the right amounts and at the right time. Knowing I didn't know enough to know what I needed to know, I consulted Google for the best would be answers to the questions I may or may not ask regarding the best diet for me. I took into consideration my weight, what I had to lose, what my age and body type are, as well as knowing enough about human habits to realize I'm not going to fool myself into eating less or drinking power drinks long enough to make any difference if the choices aren't a life choice. It's freaking time I try harder and where there is hope there is a way to make that happen.

I have a goal in my head. I have a size in mind of course, but I have a look in mind as well. I have not only made the choice to eat better, but to do it with such power that every cell in my body will know what is and what is no longer allowed entrance through my mouth. GRASS, DIRT? Always allowed, as long as it's in a fancy powder with a regulation scoop so I don't over dirt myself. I'm told that can be a problem.

With diet comes the exercise, and I'll write another blog about that one. I sort of angled at it when I wrote about the dancing - - aye, it's not only dancing, but mixing it up with yoga, stretching, strength training, and of course, aerial hammock! LOL...WHAT? OK, not yet, not until I have the body back, but once I do have the body back, that's the next step. One more tick for the Bucket List!

Today's drink was water based, so it was absolutely chunky and full of frothed swollen pear juice. If you're going to drink down dirt with grass it may help to throw in a big fat green pear, a little honey, a spoonful of chia seeds and ginger root. Mix it all up with water and blend at excessively high speeds. You'll have to drink it pretty fast to keep the chunkiness down to a tolerable level. If you let it fluff up too much you'll find yourself in a bit of a battle adding more water, stirring it up, drinking it down, adding more water, and repeating the process.  Believe me, no one else really makes their green smoothies like me - but then again, I'm not like anyone else really. I sort of like it that way. I can juice tomorrow, maybe aloe and juice, but switching it up is good. You don't have to throw in a pear, any good fibrous fruits will work, but pears add an extra gut supporting regime. Good guts are hard to obtain these days.  Pears will assist with leaking gut syndrome, immune systems, they even have a reputation of being anti-cancer fruits! Woot! Pears! 

I wasn't kidding about the aerial hammock either -- watch me.

To Fret or Not to Fret

 No! DO NOT FRET!  There's zero reasons to fret except OK, if you're playing guitar then yes, certainly fret, but that's not the same thing, and it goes without saying (although it appears that I am in fact saying it) fretting or worrying about everything will not help you solve anything. NO FRETTING are we clear?

It's been a few years now since I adopted the hard line approach to "Don't Worry Be Happy".  I've changed that moniker up a bit to "Don't Worry Be Joyful" as I strongly believe that being happy is based on an unpredictable emotion, while being joyful is often a laborious choice! (You don't know this, but the Celtic in me wants to add a "u" to words like labourious, flavour, and favourite.) LET IT GO - - no amount of worrying is going to make you happy, but it can give you ulcers, stress you to the point of gaining weight, or having another physical ailment that can lead to permanent damage in your body, mind, and spirit. 

OK, easy peasy, ready? Grab a Bible if there's one handy near you, and turn to the Psalms. If you don't have a full Bible, but maybe a small New Testament it will still probably have the Psalms within it. Turn to Psalms 37 and skim it, you don't have to read it or memorize it, but do skim it. The first verse (paraphrased) says "Hey, you, yeah, I'm talking to YOU, do not worry about it." The "IT" in this case is every it, every single it there was back in the day, is today, or will be tomorrow. You have an it, don't let it worry you. IT belongs to God, HE is the one saying to you DO NOT FRET.  Carry on, read a bit further, no chapter is just one verse.  The third verse of Psalms 37 reads in part, (and also paraphrasing, since I can't possibly know which translation you have in your hands), TRUST GOD. let go of it and JUST TRUST GOD with it.  Don't think about it again, don't bring it back up tomorrow, trust God and Him alone, that He will in fact settle the matter. Here is why; are you ready? Verses 4 and 5 say He will.  It literally says if you delight yourself in God, if you commit yourself to Him, HE (not you) will bring it to pass. He, NOT YOU, will make it happen.  Now, get a pretty colored pencil or pen and make a wee picture for your corkboard so you can remember this. Draw hearts and shooting stars around the border, pin the note to the corkboard and remind yourself EVERY SINGLE DAY to not not not fret. You can't. If you think about it fretting is a sin. Sin is bad. Fret not.

When I decided to live my life this way you wouldn't believe all the crap that Satan tried to throw my way. Job after job was lost for this reason or that. I was a teacher, and it just seemed every semester there was someone in administration wanting me terminated. Month after month I was brought up for review and called in for questioning. I was lied about by teachers, other staffers, parents, even kids sometimes and year after year I was either suspended for something I didn't do and had to prove it wasn't true, or I was actually terminated and had to force the district into a hearing to prove I was not doing what I was being accused of. (Most of the time I was called a racist for failing a kid who chose not to work, but there were other issues such as swearing at a child, calling a kid stupid, or something similar.) The allegations were always fabricated, but having to defend one's reputation over and over again can be daunting. How do you fix that? You don't. You let God fix that, and if you follow the recipe set out in Psalms 37 you'll come out on the right and best side EVERY time.

God never said that being a Christian would be an easy thing to do. In fact, you may remember that several of Jesus' followers were either beheaded, crucified, or in John's case, stuck in a pot of oil and then exiled for the rest of his life. Daniel found himself staring down a pack of large cats. Jonah got swallowed by a big fish, and look at poor NOAH. C'mon, show a little love for the original animal rescuer, will ya? Do you think for a MINUTE that Noah fretted? Yes, he did, it's actually written that he did, but the point is, God said NOT TO. In Noah's defense, Psalms was actually written way after the flood. But in every case throughout God's word, if you don't mind reading it for yourself, God wins. God takes care of every single detail whether we fret or not because that's what He does. So if God is going to take care of the details whether we worry about the details, doesn't it make sense (and I mean a whole lotta sense) to just not get your panties in a twist, and LET GO to LET GOD have IT?

So, in summary fret when you pick strings, otherwise...don't.

I Raised Her Both Correctly and Right.

 Oh, Laura, Laura, Laura! It's been so long since I wrote an individual blog about this kid.  Can I still call her a kid if she's north of 30 years old? I think so; like everyone else in this family, Laura doesn't look or act her age so we're good. I'm about 30 myself if truth was told.  Laura, who can't drink alcohol and probably really wouldn't be much of a strong drinker if she could, is always carded if she walks into a liquor store. She hasn't been 18 in over 13 years at this point, but she looks like a bubbly bouncy babe with her next to ginger looks and that flash of a toothy grin that no one is quite sure if she's being seriously mischievous or just really tart.

I raised this one with the other two, and like the other two, she's apt to be just like her mom and tell you exactly what's on her mind! She won't hold back and God help you if you cross her. We're Stringfellows, we tend to be a bit vocal about most things.  Unlike the other two, Laura was born in the middle of the brood. Reuben claims the eldest while wee Caity claims the favored baby slot. Poor middle child Laura, can't you just hear her complaining now about it? She was never ever ever loved as much as the others and you know she had to work so much harder, longer, stronger, bigger, better, and with loads more courage than the others without a shred of appreciation. God bless, I'm so glad she's not a teen again, I really couldn't take much more of it now!

Laura decided a few years back to be my roommate. It wasn't as if I needed one, but rather she felt it was the best decision to both save money and have a riding mate at all times. In her mind, if she was living in my house she could benefit from having me cook (because I do) and she wouldn't be expected to do the dishes, having traded that chore for permanent trash taker-outter, as well as permanent cat litter scooper.  It's her fault that we have 3 cats living with us currently. Left to her we'd have rescued baby geese, squirrels, geckos and other woodland wild life on a daily basis.  Owning dogs, cats,and horses is truly enough! (ENOUGH ALREADY LAURA, NO, the skunk's mother is probably looking for him. PUT HIM BACK!)

Being a Taurus, Laura will never change her duties at home but the good thing is, because she's a Taurus, I know at any minute of any day exactly where she is, what she's doing.  I can assume she'll be in the exact same spot tomorrow too because Tauruses just DO NOT CHANGE easily. It was hard enough to convince her that she really really can go to another restaurant now and again; it's OK to try new food SOME TIMES.  Besides being slightly unmoving regarding likes and tastes in take out, Tauruses also tend to be predictable, easy going and once they make a decision that's the decision we all have to work with for eternity. 

On a fun note, with her streamer/gaming mind, brilliant voice, charm and wit, Laura has become an international fan favorite to a few thousand people on various online gaming platforms. She uses VR (virtual reality) to interact in "rooms" and has "owned" her on faction, leading battles and what not way up into the middle of the night most of the time. I hear her cackling, even screaming at times in sheer laughter over some of the most incredibly strange events that no amount of explanation to me will suffice. There is just no way I will understand Second Life gaming and whatever they call it now when you turn your characters into other characters to troll and stalk your friends and enemies for the sole purpose of catching each other in vulnerable situations. I'm told on nearly a daily basis how I wouldn't understand, and because I'm not really sure I want to understand, I just let it go. I don't believe many of the thousands who follow and play with her actually know of her incredible singing talents. Laura has sung locally of course, but nationally, and internationally. She's created over 600 videos with duets including famous singers, not-so famous singers, and of course her own solo works. When people ask me who my favorite singer(s) is I usually say my own daughter. I'm not lying, she's amazing. 

Being a mom, friend, and roommate to Laura means I am placed in situations where I've had to lie to bosses about her not showing up for work, I've bailed her out of scrapes and scruffs, but whether I lived with her or not I'd be doing that. I mentioned Laura can't drink alcohol. A few years back she was bucked off her horse and she hit the ground pretty hard.  A shake when up her spine, forever curving it just enough to affect the central nervous system. She now becomes dehydrated easier than most of us, and alcohol actually dries you out, it doesn't replenish you with hydration. She can't drink even a little without shriveling up, tingling and cramping to the point of being hospitalized rather quickly. No party or social gathering would be worth that experience again.  To compensate for not being able to be the loud party girl she never wanted to be, Laura is the forever friend to too many at once online. I never know what's going on in that room of hers, but there are dozens of voices coming out of her talented head. Disney characters,  Pokemon, Harry Potter favorites, she's a ball of laughs and I do sometimes wish I could be in on one of the rooms to hear the reactions of the others who beckon her to be "Stitch" and then "Ariel" or Glenda the Good Witch.  (Side Note: She'll never beat me at voicing the Wicked Witch of the West. I could never hold a candle to her singing, but the WITCH IS MINE! BACK OFF!) LOL.

Laura's room is not always the room of an older more adult person, that's for sure. If she were judged by the appearance of the room itself she'd be somewhere between "I DON'T CARE MOM, LEAVE ME ALONE" and "It doesn't matter, no one comes up here anyway".    I was smart and got Laura into horses when she was only a girl, and it's been a great replacement item for men. She won't date anyone without a farrier or vet reference. Anyone thinking about or assuming they can date Laura will have to take 2nd place to a 1200 pound gelding with a very kind eye.  Any man who says "But Laura, you haven't spent time with me, you've been at the barn four times this week", will be met with "FOUR? It's Thursday, it should have been FIVE!"  Having horses can actually be a really good thing. It weeds out the would be suitors for sure. If any man really truly wanted to sweep Laura off her feet he'd have to tie Leo up first, or catch her before she goes to the pasture to retrieve him.

One last note about my mournful, soulful, ever companioned middle child; Laura can be pretty tough to convince to change her mind about something, but she also won't ever quit on a friend, having that Stringfellow built in defense mechanism allowing her to champion her inner Super Hero instantaneously!  I'm not saying she wears a cape (anymore) but she would if the cosplay required it. She won't allow  herself to hate anyone even if they've burned her in the past. She forgives. She may not forget, but she does forgive. (Who am I kidding, she's a freaking Taurus, she doesn't forget, but she does forgive and that's a good thing. A very good thing.)

Yes, I raised this one right on the political side of things and on the spiritual side as well. Born again, and waiting on Jesus to return, He and I both know where she'll be when that day and moment comes.  She'll be strapped to her VR gizmo, dancing, laughing, singing in someone beloved character's voice about whatever the chat is about at that moment.  She may never wash a dish, but she's a giver not a taker - - and that's good enough for me. 

New Plan: Dance My Ass Off. LITERALLY!

 What do 1979 and 2021 have in common?  Well, I can't say yet, but in 1979 I was at my tip top shape and I'm gunning for something closer to it. No, I don't think I'll ever be a size 4 again, that's not possible but I can get the rest of me into the shape I'm meant to be and not this shape - whatever it is. I'll tell you this, it's not so bad that I can't still dance. I proved that to both myself and my daughter today as I twirled this mass around and round, twisting, bending, flowing, mimicking my youthful self. I thought my daughter's eyes would pop out.  I was in the living room, she in her room, there was no reason for her to freak out like she did, but it was fun to watch.  Leaning back in her computer chair, forcing herself to stay balanced as she leaned further and further to see what I was up to -- she nearly fell to the ground.  "MOM!", she shouted from under her headsets. She stood quickly, and abruptly closed her bedroom door. I wore my own earbuds with The Best of Bread blaring, but I could still hear the woman laughing with hysterics in her room trying to explain to her online cohorts what on EARTH her mum was doing in the family room - - I mean, I wouldn't want to see the video, but some day I will.  I will do that again. I will.

The main differences between the Jude of 1979 and the Jude of 2020 is that 17 year old Jude wasn't afraid to be seen dancing.  Dance! Dance! Dance! I woke up dancing, I would eat while I danced around the kitchen, I even brushed my hair dancing.  When I didn't want to ride the bus I really did walk over two miles to school but most of the time I was skipping, dancing, moving along the roads and jumping over little fences, limbs or what I could to keep the muscles moving. Keep in mind, 1979 was WAY before walkmans, Mp3s or portable specific music. We had the RADIO people, we had the RADIO!! FM baby!

By the time I got to school I had my work out, but that didn't stop me from dancing up the stairs to get to class, or down the stairs to my locker, or out in the courtyard to get to the Library a bit faster than taking the halls.  The Library...oh, books!!  Yes, you know you're really talented when you can walk/dance home, read a book and tune to the latest tunes from Bee Gees, Billy Joel, Beach Boys, Fleetwood Mac, Kansas, and of course, of course, Journey.  Wait...you say, "What about Van Halen?"  Well, I really wasn't a VH fan until after 1983 and I went out with Alex a couple of times. 

That's an entirely different blog -- maybe. 

Dancing is the answer. I may not be able to lose this fluff by dieting and suffering through the sugar withdraws from choosing to put the bread down but I can sure as heck dance. I don't ask permission, I never have. I don't remember ever asking mom or dad, "Hey do you mind very much if I just interrupt your life, your show, your date, your coffee, while I dance?" Nope, they just moved out of my way. I was about 118 pounds when I graduated from high school that late May afternoon. I wore jeans the size of a a thimble with really really long legs attached. I won't be able to do backflips again, not until I'm in Heaven, those moments are capped, but dancing...I can dance. Expressive, slow, fast, abstract, and I may just be crazy enough to try and make myself laugh by doing a precisely placed "robot" move. Who knows? I've made up my mind. This mind. This ENTJ, Scorpio-born, Year of the Ox mind. MY MIND, the place I can truly call my own. I will dance my ass off as well as my stomach, thighs, arms, breasts, belly, gut you name it, if it's fat it is coming off.  Bet.

2020 I HAVE TO DO THIS.

 EVERYONE and yes, I do mean EVERYONE is so upset about 2020!  They constantly complain, make comments and talk about how they wish 2021 would hurry up and get here, they're so ready to throw out the "clear vision" year 2020.  I am at least sympathetic to most of their reasons behind wanting to move forward, but at the same time, I am thinking we must have learned something these past 8 months. Surely, we can't throw it all out willie-nillie without having been taught a lesson or two.  Let's review.

January 2020:  I had been released from my teaching job where I taught 6 graders how to read better and to pull apart sections of what they were reading in order to analyze it. Why was I released you ask? Oh, thank you for asking, because I really do want you to know.  I taught the kids Bloom's Taxonomy, a form of learning where you literally rethink virtually every sentence, line, paragraph, example, sample, or thought. You first look at it, describing it, then you add to, take away, pull it apart, put it back together, ask yourself boundary questions about it (who, what, when, where, why, how) and you finally stand back and ask if the way you've reviewed the subject is in fact better than it was before you thought it over. Easy peasy, right? Well, the other teachers at the school became irritated when the students I shared with them would ask them "Which level do I analyze this particular passage?"  The teachers didn't really appreciate having to be forced to TEACH so I was asked to leave. So, in essence, my 2020 started in December 2019 just before Christmas break.  In January 2020 however, I did receive the full compensation for the entire year that was my contracted time. That was nice. It meant I didn't have to go back to work until the end of Summer.  The year started out rather nice, I think.

February 2020: I had actually contracted what we know now is COVID 19, back in November 2019, and in February my lungs finally became stronger, healing to the point that I no longer had to use my inhaler or drink down a bottle of non-drowsy cough syrup just to talk to people on the phone. Can I say it was the most annoying lingering cough I had ever had? I just said it. It was the most annoying lingering cough I have ever had!

March 2020:  March 4 Laura and joined a fitness gym and we went a few times, until March 12 when it closed down due to COVID-19.  That same week my sister had Messaged me on Facebook to say the world was basically ending and I needed to buy as much toilet paper as possible. Things would become very bleak very soon.  I laughed, but I did make my way to the stores to gather my fair share of what was available, making the decision to only buy one package of toilet paper at every store I visited so as not to seem the great hoarder of all things personal hygiene.

April 2020:  My son and his wife celebrated their one year anniversary locked down in their new house. Laura and I were both at home, me just living off the contract money and unemployment since I qualified for it, and she working from home remotely.  President Trump decided we should all receive $1200 in what is called a STIMULUS check, and those of us who are unemployed were paid $600 a WEEK more than what we received on government subsidy. I'm not lying, I made over $1100 a week sitting on my butt reading books, studying prophecy online, and listening to Celtic music and my good pastor Charlie Garrett of The Superior Word.  So far 2020 had not really been that disappointing to me.

May 2020:  I bought a horse with my stimulus check, just trying to keep the economy going, and he was (is) a fantabulus steed.  I recently sold him due to an on going knee injury/problem, but Casper was an amazing friend and I couldn't have enjoyed my spring and early summer more. Days off, riding horses, reading, studying, eating less due to the fact that we couldn't go into a store without a mask and I don't do masks.  I was smart and bought enough food to last through the summer basically.

June, July, and August 2020 will all be rolled into one.  Months of relaxing, riding, reading, cooking, studying, sleeping in, staying up, bantering and listening to others discuss prophecy online. I engage in about four different church services a week now, but with Charlie Garrett being the one I call "MY PASTOR".  Charlie has his prophecy update, the sermon, and a Thursday afternoon bible study.  I rather hate having to go back into the working world now, leaving my dogs, cats, books, and CDs at home. 

Bottom line for me is that I really haven't had a bad 2020. So what if we've been locked down, made to feel like we need to stay six feet away all the time. I wasn't married, dating, planning on dating, thinking about it or even socializing. Horses and dogs don't give a damn if you get within six feet of them, and not one cat complained that I sneezed or coughed in their faces. I washed my hands a bit more I suppose, took a second to think before I touch my face, but other than that the world hasn't changed much at all for me. We have a city mandate to wear masks in public, but I have my inhaler and just protest a bit claiming to have asthma, which in it's truest form is true, I have a wee bit of asthma. I wear a face shield now and again, but I won't wear masks. They don't work. It even says so on the box. LOL

Bring on the FALL....bring on Autumn!  I am so ready for pumpkins, sweaters, cooler weather, and the election!  I'm a Trump supporter, so I feel that it will be a landslide victory for the 45th president's 2nd term, and I do believe that if it is not the Democrats are cheating their way into the office. We won't tolerate it. We are one. We are a silent and not so silent majority. We are Q, and Where We Go One We Go All.  

I won't miss 2020, but I'm not all that eager to throw it to the wind either.