Goodbye 2021 - Hello 2022!

 Last year my daughter and I raced over to Barnes & Noble to get new 2021 calendars only to find out that we had to pay full price for them. That wasn't fun. We expected that on the last day of the year we would have been able to find new calendars for the next year at 50% off their regular prices. I can't remember where we ended up, it may have been that we waited a few days and went back to Barnes & Noble when they did have their calendars and planners on sale. I don't remember, but I do remember the calendar I bought because in May 2020 my sweet dog George, a red/brindle colored Miniature Dachshund, had passed away.  The calendar I bought honored and reflected my genuine love for the dog. It was called "Hot Dog Yoga - The Happiness you Longggggg For" it was simply amazing!  Little red dogs doing basic and complicated yoga stances, and the descriptions were too funny.  Oh, George would have loved it.

    So, I grabbed the calendar from the closet just now, after thinking about throwing it out, but not bringing myself to do so. I looked at each month slowly and intentionally so I could reflect on what took place each and every month.  It's amazing what you don't remember when people ask you what happened over the past year.  If I had not written it down on a few of the more memorable dates, I literally would have only remembered people's birthdays, anniversaries and perhaps their day of death. We had a couple this past year that were really sad, but only for us, because each of the wonderful people in my life who passed were Christians. They are celebrating the new year in real style.

    Here we go, what took place in 2021 that is worth remembering? To start off with, I weighed 26 pounds more last year at this time than I do now. Wow, that's a total of 52 pounds lost since August 3, 2020. In early February I freaked a man out (online) when I wished his young daughter happy birthday. Why people don't realize what they post in previous years won't be seen in more recent years and why they happen to think that what they post will only be seen by those they know personally, I have no idea. I think the man has learned a bit about posting about his family. I am glad I could be of assistance with that. LOL...poor man.  Also in February, I began my study for the SIE (Securities Industry Essentials) exam, which I didn't pass in April, but did in December. Good start, rough spring and summer, but let me tell you, the deed is done!! I am SIE certified. 

    In March, besides being my son's birthday on the 22nd (Turn about is fair play, I figure I should let the man get even with me...go ahead Tex...wish my son a big day, we're good) I also started an 8-week course with a great clinic that did light treatments for weight loss and the red lights also reduced my body 8%. It was amazing!!  I wish I could afford to buy the $15,000.00 machine and just keep it here at home and climb into it, wrap up with the light pads and zap myself into skinnihood. That would be a-mazing. I may have to think about getting one and letting friends use it. I started and stopped KETO in April, it just wasn't working for me. I decided a semi-keto thing was better. I do that still, and I'm not unhappy with it. I'm not thrilled to still be 20-22 pounds over what my goal weight is, but it's getting there. I know that when you're older and when you have less to come off it gets harder and harder. One day at a time folks, one day at a time.

    May was good.  I changed banks back to using my credit union where my car is financed. They are closer to home and just seem a bit more friendly. That, and I didn't have to wear a stupid mask to go into the bank. I dropped the others like a hot potato. I don't wear masks because they don't work. When I was FORCED to wear one to take the SIE exam in April I bitched about it, and pulled it down under my nose. It was a sheer and see-through type anyway, but they didn't care. It was a mask. They met their damn mandate. It's all stupid. May also found me looking for teaching jobs since it didn't look like I would be working in finance without the SIE exam being passed. Yuck and pooey.

    OMG...June was cool. I tried Botox for the first time! That's weird for me.  I think I like it, and I'll do it again in a couple of weeks. It lasted over 5 months, that's not bad. I don't have to be beautiful but if I can be I will be.  June found me using the vibration plate more, walking more, getting the bike out, and really just doing more outdoor activities. I gave up the horse, so I needed to fill that time with something else. Walking it was! I was averaging 12,000+ steps a day, eating right, and really just being as healthy and happy as I possibly could be.  I wasn't working outside of the house, but knew I would be in the later part of the summer. I tried to enjoy myself as much as I could, and again, study as much of the SIE as I could.

    July and August were filled with job interviews, working temp jobs for the Express Personnel. I love Kevin, my employment agent at Express. He finds me fun and exciting jobs for sure. I worked for an ad agency, and I worked for a lawyer for a minute. The lawyer wanted to hire me, but he didn't offer benefits and since I knew I was going to go into finance when the SIE was complete I decided not to take him  up on his offer.  I also thought I would be moving to Scotland in the late fall or early 2022, so that was on my mind as well. If I could find a good position in finance there that wanted to help me move to the land of Heather, that was the ticket -- until it wasn't. No Scotland for me. 

    August-September I worked as a teacher at a certain district which shall not be named. I was a middle school English teacher, and there was a problem with me not wanting to wear the mandated mask. I had not only a doctor's note stating I didn't have to, I had a letter from my preacher stating that we, as Christians, are against covering the image of God, and no one cared at the employment level until I threatened to sue.  I was allowed to not wear the mask for medical exemption, but days later I was asked to leave under strange and mysteriously uninvestigated reasons and circumstances. Days and days went by and they had no answers as to why I was being asked to stay home on administrative leave. Eventually in October I was told I would be allowed to stay home and be paid through the semester, which by the way ended about an hour ago.  I am no longer under their thumb, though they still owe me for my last check - - so I won't really say anything too disparaging until I get that money.

    October, November, and December were FILLED with more than hours and hours upon hours of self study in the SIE world. I was determined to pass the test and I was FLAT OUT crushed in November when I did not pass it. I missed it by literally ONE question. When you pass they don't tell you what your score is, but when you fail they tell you. I would rather have bombed it, tanked it, than to have missed by one stupid question!  I took it again a few weeks later, and passed. I knew I knew the answers. I just got nervous during the test. God was GREAT and helped me recall the actual answers. I was pretty sure I passed with a passing score of around 85-88, but I'll never know. I just tallied up the ones I knew I knew.   Other than cramming and forcing puts, calls, options, futures, equity, debt and debentures into my skull's fleshy tenant, I basically worked out, ate well, baked well, played with grandkids and watched OU football.  It was a good year to be sure.

    What's next? What's on the horizon? Well, I'm still praying for the man I've been praying for since 2019.  He's been experiencing a bit of a physical and mental setback, so he's been on my mind and spirit for about six months. I'll continue to lift him to Jesus and see his full recovery I hope! That's #1 in my heart right now. There are no goals really, just to continue to lift him, and hope to hear more from him as to how he's doing.  I passed the SIE and accepted a position with a finance company as an insurance advisor for now, but will continue to interview and seek permanent and full time employment in finance advisory, finance consulting, but I need to be trained to do that. I am now studying the Series 66 and then the Series 7 test guides so that I can pass those and be absolutely desirable for some fantastic investment group such as Fidelity, Chase, Morgan Stanley, Dean Witter, you know, those types. I have my ears to the ground and my prayers to the Lord. It will happen.

    Weight wise? I'll lose 20-22 more pounds, tone up, tighten up, pump it up, and be really strong soon. I'm hoping to get a downstairs apartment soon so I can jump rope and not scare the neighbors. I have to go outside currently to do it. I really don't mind because the neighbors take bets on when I'll stop; it's fun to help one or the other out from time to time if I know what's being bet - - especially if I can get in on the action too!  I'll keep the smile plastered to my face, listen to Celtic worship and Celtic Worship. You have to know those are two different things. I will learn to play guitar perhaps - - and if not, I will pretend that I do.  I'm OK with a little fantasy - - or even a big round bellied bearded one, as long as he's smiling and swinging his kilt around in the air. Woot!

Happy NEW YEAR!!

Photo Credit: Pinterest 

My Yoga Pants are Inside Out (a Reflection)

 There I was, you know me, minding my own business, because you know, that's what I do. I was stretching, leaning, basically making myself as uncomfortable as I possibly could after having finished a 30 minute power walk, a  fast and easy few-minutes session on the vibration plate using a 10-pound bar, when I realized, quite unmistakably that my yoga pants were in deed inside out. Yep, that's me, walking around the hood, even the grocery store, being seen, waving at everyone, just you know, hanging with the peeps completely unaware that my yoga pants were literally inside out. The only excuse I have is that I have no real excuse. I was just in a hurry. I will say that I laughed at myself. I nearly strained a muscle after I laughed but yeah, I did find it pretty humorous that my wardrobe (on the next to the last day of the year) pretty much summed up my 2021.  How about you? Are you relating to me right now?

    My dog (Ginger) gets a little too excited when she sees me slip my house shoes on because she knows we're about to take a hike. It's not much of a hike when I wear them, maybe just a few laps around the complex, but she's gonna see people, meet and greet other dogs. I wanted to make it a quick thing so I could get back to the business of being fit, but she needed to go. She's gonna ignore my pleas to hurry things along, she's gonna smell things...everything.  For her it's a bathroom break deluxe when we go outside together.  Her "toilet" is the world! She could go anywhere and does, without any hesitation unless you count the endless moments she actually takes to sniff the ground before squatting. That can take a minute.  She's not the fastest pisser in the West. 

    When we got back today from the morning jaunt, she and I prepared ourselves for the real stuff. First, the breakfast shake, then the light stretching before we both stand on the vibration plate from anywhere between 10-15 minutes. I typically dance a little, bend and move that butt around while she jumps on and off of the plate barking at it. She's been on it for over a year now, but she still likes to tell it off for shaking her booty as much as it does. When you bend over on the thing you can really feel it in your back, so I like to do that to loosen up the lower extremities.  Next, after the plate, is the all-important-never-to-be-skipped yoga mat where doggy-down is the first stance both Ginger and I take before seriously getting twisted and trying to out do one another. It may or may not be advised to try an outdo your dog on a yoga mat. I'm not a doctor of medicine, but I will say that the work out is often more rewarding when you're accompanied by a good (and quite limber) friend. Ginger wins most of the time.

    So, I am in the middle of a butt tightening exercise; the one where you sit up on your knees with your hands in front of you, and you put one of your legs out (extending it as far as you can) and then you draw it back in, do this several times, and then you switch legs. You know the one.  I put the right leg out to my side and saw the outline of my pocket. My pocket was closed up. My pocket was not accessible. My pocket was on the outside of my leg. I'm not kidding you,  I still had my leg extended while I was looking at my pocket in complete confusion. Ginger barked. I came to my senses, and I lowered my leg.  My yoga pants were, and had been, inside out. Wow. Yeah. Wow.

    Rather than take them off, turn them around and redress myself, I just sort of shrugged my tired aching shoulders and continued my torture. What's another few minutes if I've already gone all morning with my unbelievably unaware self? No worries. I'll blame it on the launching and preparation of the new 5G radiation exposure we're all about to be subjected to. Come to think about it, maybe I actually can blame my behavior (or lack thereof) on the radiation - - it makes sense to me. Sure, I can do that. So after the next few minutes of lifts, twists, dance moves, dog lifting, and a few jumps of the heavy rope, I decided to turn my yoga pants to their rightful position, but then realized I had to take them off anyway to shower. I mean, I didn't have to. I could leave them on I suppose. Why not? That's the sort of year I've had; I may as well end it in the same "fashion". 

    January started out pretty good. I had lost quite a bit of weight, I was really excited about my future as an at-home insurance advisor, but the company bailed and I was forced to find not-so great work, but at least I was working. I think working trumps being poor and begging on the streets any day. February through May went well weight and diet wise, I even managed to generate more work leads and keep my head afloat.  With all the pandemic lags and restrictions, I wasn't able to study for the SIE exam the way I wanted to in the spring, so come April when I took the test, I bombed it. I sucked!! I can't tell you how badly I sucked, I'm  not sure there's a case study for that sort of thing. Let's just say I had no business thinking I could sit that test in April.

    Over the summer months I was able to study a bit more, but with the horses, the kids, life, and a few other things kicking into gear, my study was put on hold. August rolled around and rather than accept a training position with a company that demanded I wear a mask, I accepted a teaching job, only to be told I had to wear a mask after being hired. No worries, my doctor gave me an exemption letter - - so did my pastor, but the school wasn't too keen to exempt someone from wearing a mask on religious grounds. I was exempt from wearing my mask, but just two or three days later I was released from work under suspicious and strange circumstances. Though I am prohibited from going into the details, the end result was that I was released from work, but still got paid! That's always nice. I even got a statement from the school district stating that the issue was resolved, no one was to be blamed, it just didn't work out the way they intended. Whatever that means. Just pay me, I'm good.

    The best part about being home with pay was that I could actually put my mind to work on the SIE exam study, which I did, and I passed that exam just a couple of weeks ago. SUPER excited. SUPER happy. You can't count me as being any more thrilled than what I was the moment I saw the word "PASS" on that FINRA exam.  With the SIE under my belt I can study for the Series 66/7 and trade to my heart's desire. My basic plan is to keep a stable portfolio for myself, and have a side gig with risky crazy penny stock trading to build up the portfolio and/or just have fun. I'm looking forward to losing as much as I am looking forward to earning. If I lose I gain knowledge. You can't buy knowledge, but you can sure learn from expenditures! Lessons are lessons and I'm willing to learn - - even with my pants on backward! That would have actually been a bit odd, not gonna lie - - I would have HOPEFULLY noticed that. 

    What an appropriate close to an awkward and confusing year. What an amazing start to an incredibly good new year. I'm back on track with the dieting, having taken a break to study harder from November to now. I wanted to be fluffy and full for the sitting of the exam, then for my birthday, then Thanksgiving, and into the Christmas holidays. It's a time of year when sugar cookies, gingerbread, and Stollen are just part of the daily diet. I don't mind the cheat, it means I am now able to start over and have the best of times with bringing it all full circle. Being back on track means I'll have a more focused mind and maybe I'll actually notice next time I have the labels of my britches sticking out rather than being tucked away - - then again, I could just claim it as a new trend. I'm all about not admitting to losing the game - - just maybe changing up the rules a bit!

Photo Credit: Find You Fit 

YOU are NOT YOURS (Not if you're a Christian)

 "Bought with a price" is the term most pastors like to use when they talk about how Christians are no longer free to do what they want to do.  We are bought and we are paid for, and the unbelievable price was the precious holy blood of our Savior Jesus. Notice that I didn't say MY Savior? Well, Jesus is MY Savior, but as Christians, we are a collective and we are the BODY and Jesus is the Head of us. He is (was and will be) the eternal Head of our collective Saint Body.  So, when ONE of the body parts is ill, when it is sick and not able to praise and perform as it should be, we (the rest of us) are commanded to lift that person up to the Lord and to pray specific prayers regarding that person's need.  

    I know there are a lot of people who go to church thinking that because they attend regularly, and they give a tithe or offering every week, that the are in fact saved, but that's simply not the case. Without being born again, accepting Jesus as one's personal Savior, the person will not and cannot enter into Almighty God's presence. This is the sole reason Jesus died for us. We simply cannot make it on our own. It wouldn't matter if we prayed all the time, worked in the church ministries, gave gifts, even visiting prisoners and orphans won't do it. Without the acceptance of Jesus in your heart you just won't be going to Heaven. If I had one message to teach it would be that. We all sin, every last one of us, and believe me when I say we're going to continue to sin (every day) after we accept Christ, but the VERY BIG difference is we have the Holy Spirit dwelling inside our hearts when we accept Christ, and it is that very Spirit that leads and guides us NOT to do wrong. We don't have to beg forgiveness constantly, the entire price was paid at the cross and through Jesus' resurrection. Without the resurrection we'd still have an amazing example of what unconditional love is, but because HE LIVES, we can face tomorrow. "Because He lives, all fear is gone" Not just some of it, not 94% of it, not everything except that one fear or anxiety-driven thought...ALL FEAR is gone.

    When a fellow Christian became upset with me for calling pastors and texting church ministers to ask them to pray for him, I had the moment of silence in my head while I listened to my good friend rant and become angrier and angrier at me. He called me names. He accused me of things. He did everything you'd expect an embarrassed man to do because he felt exposed, opened, and put on display.  Nothing could be further from the truth, but he couldn't see past his own ego to realize that what I had done was not only Biblical, it was EXACTLY what the leaders in the Bible had directed us (especially women) to do if a member of the community, a member of the Saint Body was in trouble.  I very openly and very honestly wrote to the churches and spoke to the elders and the leaders asking them for specific mindful, heartfelt, and thoughtful prayer and it was accompanied by fasting. Some things are ONLY handled through prayer and fasting.

    Because I am a woman and my friend is a man, because he is married to someone and it isn't me, I took my issue and my request first to that man himself to discuss the situation through prayer, but he would not answer me. He told me it was none of my business. REALLY?  He went there. He should NOT have gone there, that was exactly where I wanted him to go so that I could pull out the 25+ scriptures that assure me that I not only had the RIGHT to do what I did, but BECAUSE HE IS BOUGHT WITH A PRICE, and so am I, I have the OBLIGATION under my Lord's commands to do what I did. I lifted him up to the elders and I asked for specific prayers because generalized prayers don't help when you need to cast out certain demonic behavior such as anxiety and depression. Many would argue with me and try to say that being depressed or anxious is not Satanic, but it most certainly is. It is NOT relying on Jesus, and it is literally saying that Jesus is NOT ENOUGH; it is quite literally making a stand against our Lord when a person continues in this path without seeking help.  

    Now, if a man or a woman who is suffering from anxiety and/or depression does seek help and is asking the church and fellow Christians to pray for them, this is wonderful and this is exactly what they should do, but they do not have the right to stop others who love and care for them to do the same. When James 5:16 clearly says "Confess your faults one with another, pray for one another so that you may be healed" there is no number put on that, no limitation or "we're only telling personal friends and family".  The reason for that NOT being an excuse is simple; YOU ARE BOUGHT WITH A PRICE, you are no longer your own. You literally belong to the entire body. You are one of us, we are one and you are hurting, it is OUR obligation, each and all of us, to pray and to seek prayer for you. That may be the first time some of you are hearing this. You may think that your personal life if your personal life. It is to a degree, but when you're a public figure and you ask said public to demonstrate their support for you when you're well, happy, selling music, painting, writing books, and doing other marvelously public things, you can't expect people to fade away at your request when suddenly you wish to be private.  There are boundaries and they work both ways.

    "You overstepped your boundary" he told me. Really?  Was that the one he set for me or the one God set for me? I had to ask because apparently he thought he was somehow going to convince me that he had the right to hide and deal with his illness on  his own. He does not have that right. Public or private, we are the BODY.  Would we allow a broken splinter in our finger to remain there without seeking assistance for it, or maybe working on it ourselves? If we were laying at the bottom of a riverbed with a broken leg and someone came by who had the ability to care and offer aid would we simply shout back "Mind your own business! I'm OK, you have no right to give a damn!"  No! Of course we would not do that. We would rush to their aid if we could, and we would allow assistance if we needed it. It's the same way with needing prayer and needing supplication. We may not WANT someone to know what is going on, but we are bought with a price. We are no longer our own. We are not given to being so selfish as to not receive the love of those who genuinely seek to protect and lift us before our God. Notice I said OUR God. I am speaking of course, of another fellow Christian, a member of the same Saint Body I am a member of. The broken bone I see, hear, feel, and know exists needs attention. I asked for help.

    My friend hung up the phone with a stern, "Good-bye, Jude".  Before he actually hung up he heard me say "Eternity is a very long time.  You'll have a minute when you realize I love you, and I have the obligation to petition God in the manner in which He instructed."  Two days passed and of course I hit the closet a few times praying for my good friend to relax and understand that I am not his enemy, but perhaps a better friend than even his family (including his wife).  He messaged me on Facebook to say "I'm still mad at you, but I do understand. Our preacher talked about that same thing today and I asked him after church if you had contacted him too. I knew you wrote to a 100 churches. I assumed you wrote my pastor.  I'm still mad, but I do understand. Thank you for not giving up on me."   Well, you know I cried my eyes out, right? I'm such a baby. God is just too wonderful. If I had to do it all over again, and I have done it a few times for others, I will and would do it the same way. I didn't make a fuss. I didn't blog or broadcast it. I wrote to the elders and asked for very specific prayers. Prayers that will cover exactly what needed to be covered. (and then I fasted to show God I was serious)

    I sometimes think that because I was so very young when I became a Christian (around age 6) I often assume that everyone who is saved knows that there are methods and means of how to go about asking for prayer when someone who you love and respect won't talk to you, or they won't help you help them in their need. They aren't "allowed" to push you away if they are also Christians, it's not done. Being born again is not an easy road by any means. There are bumps, rocks, sticks, trees in the way, there are pot holes, evil things lurking around just waiting to pounce.  The good news is, the very very very good news is, that Jesus died, and then HE GOT UP!  He showed Death, He showed Satan, He showed all of us, that HE IS KING.  "Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine. Oh, what a foretaste of Glory divine."  Take that Anxiety! Take that Depression! Shove it as far as you can - - because ALL FEAR is gone.

    If you need Jesus, please please seek Him. Ask me ask anyone who knows Jesus, and we will show you how to become a Christian.  Here is a link to the blog I wrote revealing the Roman Road of Salvation. EASY PEASY!

https://judestringfellow.blogspot.com/2021/06/the-roman-road-to-salvation.html

Photo Credit: Francis Canas

"An empty grave is there to prove, my SAVIOR LIVES and because He lives, I can face tomorrow!"

    

The Sad Truth

 I have been licensed to sell insurance in one form (line) or the other (or all) since 1983.  I have been certified and licensed to teach English to kids ages roughly 11-18 since 2004.  I have worked as an insurance sales rep at the same time I was teaching full time because the cold hard facts are that you just can't make a decent living as a teacher in Oklahoma. I have a Ph.D., and I have more than 15 years experience teaching, but the state only accepts your primary and secondary teaching experience when they establish a pay scale.  I have six years of teaching primary and secondary education, so with those six years, and my Ph.D. I literally only earned $45,000.00 a year, and that includes the very good benefits package that I will admit comes with the job.  At least a teacher can't complain too much about bennies. Why am I telling you this? Because now, starting this upcoming year, I will earn exactly as much money as I earned as a teacher and I will not have to leave my house to do it.  Wow. So you know, I'm not "disparaging" anyone. Just telling the truth. I've not identified any particular district either. Believe me, I know my boundaries. I've always been rather good at gymnastics. If I do fall, I have a net of attorneys to catch me. (Just one of the many benefits of being educated and old.)

    I just passed the Securities Industry Essentials exam, and I've applied with about 40 investment firms. The problem with doing this is that I'd have to start at the bottom, and the positions being offered, though they would get my foot into the door, aren't what I'm wanting. I want to learn to trade stocks, bonds, and options, not purge myself over accounting and making myself a vendor liaison between clients and bankers. I want to be in the mix, in the middle, making choices, running tapes, and I want to experience the ups and downs of the market head on, not looking at it from the back offices while other people who have been there longer are so busy trying to one-up one another to get the Floor Broker with their sweetest deal. It's not about the money for me, it never has been. If it was about the money I would have taken the Banker Relationship position, earned about $60,000.00 and worked my way quietly until I have enough time in to make a request to be trained to move forward. That is JUST NOT ME. 

    My decision is to stay home, study, take the Series 66, find someone to appoint me, take the Series 7, work stocks, options, bonds and more from my own home and do it with my own money. I don't need to be a part of a broker dealer firm to do that. I just have to be appointed to take the exams, and the company I will be working for as an inbound advisor/analyst will allow me to study on my own and sit any and all exams I desire. That is the life!  I don't want to be obligated to wait my turn. I don't (and won't) want to be told when I can move forward. I will move when I damn well feel like it.  The one thing about being an ENTJ (and knowing it) is that I won't nod my head and then do what I want to do. I will look you in the eyes and tell you that I'm going to do what I damn well want to do, when I damn well want to do it, and if you don't want that, like that, or appreciate that, I really don't care. I am still moving in the direction I want to move in, even if it means I will be on my own doing it. (which has been the case so many times).

    We are just not on this Earth long enough to fight with others who want the power, status, or position lead. No. I am who I am because I pray about my moves, and I trust God will protect me when I seek His will in the decisions that I make. I'm not out there making willy-nilly-silly decisions, folks, no! I am out there making the best thought out decisions I can that will benefit others before they benefit me. It's always been that way. I am the champion of the little guy before I champion my own causes. I figure if I can help someone else stand as tall as I know I am going to stand, there will be two of us standing!  To think that I can stay at home nowadays, work from my own desk in my own room, in my jammies and not bothering to put makeup on, do my hair, wear decent clothes, drive in traffic, fight with co-workers, discipline children, put up with parents, put up with other teachers, put up with administration, it makes me SMILE. If I can do that and make the same or more money than I did engaging myself in the tedious work of coming up with challenging lesson plans, only to realize that there are 28-34 kids in each class, with 28-34 ways of learning, it makes me SMILE a bit more! KNOWING that I can do this, make the money, not have to have committee meetings, subject meetings, team meetings, staff meetings, and/or parent-teacher meetings...makes me DANCE!

    Recently, I had a few of my former students find me on Instagram, and they were literally begging me to come back after the Christmas break. I can't and won't contact them because of a confidentiality clause in my contract, but no, I can't and won't ever darken the door of another school unless I'm teaching or lecturing in Scotland at a college or university, but even there I won't prepare lessons and make assignments. I will lecture. I don't want anymore instructional responsibility and/or the 50+ hours of grading and planning that you do as a teacher.  What does that say about our society when I can earn as much as a 20+ year teacher and not leave my house? My hours are great, my co-workers (pets) are amazing. No one tells me I can't leave the room to get another cup of coffee, no one spits a me, no one calls me names. No one starts rumors about me. No one lies about me. No one thinks less of me and then suddenly realizes that I really was exactly what they wish they had all along. NOPE...I am free to dance, exercise, do my chores and cook while I sell annuities and discuss reasons to invest in whole life products, 529 Savings Plans, or IRAs.  

    I can't and I don't make suggestions about futures, stocks, bonds, or options, not yet. I am just an associate at this point. I won't ever piss FINRA off to the point that they refuse to let me sit the next exams. This is my new life. This is the chapter I have been waiting to write for years.  I am absolutely THRILLED that the day is here and I am making the leap.  It wasn't so hard after I finally found the right videos and instructional online tutoring. Trial and error is a great teacher. Experience is better. I will be one of the best traders ever when the day arrives that I pass my Series 66 and Series 7 and can apply for the jobs (jumping ahead) that others have applied for without the exams! You can be at a firm 10-15 years and not sit an exam, but if I came in with the license(s) in my pocket, I'm the ticket!  That's the plan. I can teach myself in a year what they can draw out over time and expect me to bend over or kiss their collective feet to move an inch - - no thank you, I'll take that mile!  This is my mountain to seize and I'm digging in with both hands.

    Money won't be and is not (has never been) the driving force in my life. Making the right and best honest decisions for myself and others, and then following through with a plan or goal is the greater reward for me. Knowing that I set my mind to it, gained the knowledge and skillset on my terms, and then conquered the exam (with prayer) is the way to go. I can't see myself standing in line waiting on anyone else, not when I am the trail blazer.  Follow me.  You'll get there faster and in better shape! At least I'll appreciate you along the way. It's who I am...thanks Mom.

Photo Credit: KPort Gift Company

DRAMA in the Kitchen!

From time to time I surprise myself with not being quite as prepared as I thought I may have been. I always giggle just a little when that happens, as it's rather nice to remind myself (sometimes) that I really am human and yes, I do make mistakes. As long as the mistakes don't hurt me, or hurt someone else, I'm good.  The drama in my kitchen occurred when I decided to make another batch of homemade soap, and this time, for some strange reason, I decided to make lemongrass and add chia seeds on top, to sort of make it look like lemon poppy seed cake! Yum! Doesn't that sound like a great idea? Sure it does!

    I got all the ingredients out that I would need. I washed off all the molds, the utensils, the bowls, and the stuff I would need to make the soap.  I pulled out the scent, the chia seeds, the colorants, and the digital scale. All went well until I haphazardly decided I only needed one protective glove when I stirred the lye in with the water.  I mean, come on, I've done this at least a dozen times now, right? I can do this in my sleep! (Probably shouldn't be messing around with lye when I'm sleeping. Just going to go ahead and say that right now.)

    I did have my protective googles on, and I did have a glove on the hand that I used to stir the lye with rather than on the hand I used to pick up the little glass container that had the lye in it. I poured the lye slowly - - because you're supposed to do that. I poured it right into that water that I had previously measured out at about 12 ounces.  Nothing really prepares a person for an eruption that the person wasn't prepared for! Let me tell you. I learned a bit of chemical science yesterday!  You don't want to pour crystalized lye into hot water!  No, you just don't want to do that. If you do that, you want there to be ventilation and if you can't have ventilation, you at least want to have BOTH of your hands covered and protected. I did not have both of my hands covered and protected and I couldn't reach up to turn on the ventilator without dropping the glass container that held the lye that hadn't been poured yet!

    SUCH A MESS!  You probably remember seeing those 8th Grade Science Fair volcanoes that like to spew red "lava" everywhere...well, this wasn't red, but it was erupting! I didn't have a blow out, but I had a constant run of lye-water volcanic action all over my stove!  The lye ate through the cooked/baked on grease in my little silver drip pans too. If there's an upside to the story that would be it!  I then managed to make it to the paper towels without killing myself or breathing in too many fumes. I began cleaning the mess, simultaneously calling for my daughter to open the back door and windows, while I reached up to turn on the vent.  Laura nearly fell over laughing at me as it must have looked like I had sprouted a couple more arms. I can only imagine the way I was flailing around like an unorganized octopus with paper towels and trying to put my protective glove on the other hand.

    After managing to make a sufficient water/lye mixture to accommodate the soap batch, I then began pouring out and measuring out the necessary oils. I use 7 oils in my soaps. Count with me: (1) coconut oil (11 oz), 2. Palm oil (9 oz), 3. Castor oil (4 oz), 4. Olive oil (4 oz), 5. Avocado oil (4 oz) 6. Sweet Almond oil (2 oz) and 7. Mango butter, which isn't an oil but it counts as one.  I use 2 oz of it.  With the Mango butter you have to melt it too, it's solid like the coconut and the palm.  I use the microwave, so I just popped in the Mango butter in its little brown container that it comes in because it had right at 2 or 3 oz left in the tub.  I closed the microwave door and set the timer. I hit start and turned around....never turn around.  BAM! BOOM!  Crazy sparks and flames reaching out inside my microwave! WHAT?

    I hit the door release and grabbed the tub!  I looked it over and NO there wasn't any metal on the damn thing, what the hell happened?  Oh, then I looked at the top, where the little protective paper had once been...it was lined in foil. Yeah....foil. Itty bitty tiny pieces of foil lined the top of the tub. Who knew? Well, anyone who was smart enough to look would have seen it. Then there's me.  You'd have thought I had been skewed with a kabob rod. I screamed!  When I did that my daughter came flying out of her room to once again save my life and protect me from myself.  "WHAT THE HELL, Mom?" she cried!  I just smiled and said "Oh look, there's tiny bits of foil right here."  She gave me the FACE.

    From that point forward I had an audience of one. My daughter refused to go back to her games and talk to her friends if her mother was apt to try and either burn the house down or worse. I didn't mind the company, and it was fun to watch her scrunch her nose at the lemongrass oil that I had chosen for the scent of the batch. Laura's nose is really sensitive to smell, and if I can pour out a bit extra and watch her eyes water I don't mind doing that every now and again...is that really cruel? I only do it if she has recently pissed me off. It's my evil-mom way of evening the scores between us.  She gets me with leaving a ball in the hallway so I have to step on it, trying not to fall and break a hip. We should stop. We really should stop being so immature. I know. OK, we'll going to stop. Since I wrote it out and read it - - it doesn't seem very nice. LOL

    The soap turned out GREAT. It loaded well, it traced well, it took the colorant, it divided well, it molded well.  I love it. I added the chia seeds on top to make it pretty and unique.  I watched as it set and then I just went to bed to let it harden overnight.  Taking it out of the mold proved to be a bit tricky. I decided to leave it in a bit longer. When I did take it out it cut wonderfully, and I placed all 9 brick pieces and the 4 bars from the independent mold, into the curing drawer and I took photos. I love it. I am in love with the lemongrass chia soap! I think I'll make it a staple of my Etsy. I truly love the smell and I think others will agree with me. What I will NOT do in the future is shy away from due diligence. I know, and I knew, that I was supposed to do things correctly. I don't know if it was just laziness or what, but I did learn a valuable lesson.  There are better ways to clean your drip pans!

Photo Credit:  Me

Things I Wish I Knew Before Making Candles.

 Obviously, there is some merit to the old saying "Experience is the best teacher".  Again, obviously, there is also merit in the old saying "Practice makes perfect", but I'm much more like the guy who came around later and said "Perfect practice makes perfect".  If I continued to practice the bad form I was performing I would never have perfected the backhand spring. I would have ended up on my head more often. I had to adjust my thrust and I had to perfect the timing due to the fact that at age 14 I was growing faster than my coach anticipated. I was a gangly 5'6" gymnast, and that doesn't always bode well on the beam and bars. It's not that big of an issue on the floor.  Well, I like learning, and I like knowing something is the right way to do it before I do it, but if that's not an option, I like knowing as soon as possible what the right way is, so that I don't make the same mistakes over and over again. I don't know about you, but I absolutely HATE making mistakes; even if I'm a novice at something. I prefer to KNOW the ins and outs before I dig into it.  So WHY did I not read up on the ins and outs of candle making before pouring (see what I did there) myself in to it?  God knows.

    I am not one to waste money, so I didn't dish out tons of cash and then find myself unable to pay rent. I didn't do anything quite so foolish as that. No,  I know and I knew before I started, that I would need a few practice runs before the real and viable products could be made and sold for profit. It was more or less a guessing game really, not knowing exactly how much I would put out before being in the money, but it's a working progress and a work-in-progress, so I don't mind having a bit of fun as long as I can reheat the wax and start over if I need to. About the only thing I will be out is the container the candles go in, and I can reuse those if I can ever find a way to get ALL of the wax out of the damn things.

    I would say, without going into all the details, that the three things I wish I knew before getting into candle making would be: First, knowing that I could microwave the flaked wax and I wouldn't have to buy pots and do the double boiler thing. I may end up just investing in a larger measuring cup with a handle and a spout (plastic) and doing it that way. It's faster, cleaner, and I don't have to wonder how much I'm putting into the cup because I can use my handy-dandy digital scale to weigh it out. You may or may not know but need to know, that WATER is the only thing that measures out the same in fluid ounces as it does in mass. One pound of wax makes 20 ounces of liquid to pour.  If you make 4 ounce candles you'll need 1 pound to make 5 candles. (I could have added that fact to my things I wish I knew, but I knew that from some fun fact video I watched many years ago, and for whatever reason it stuck with me.) I relearned that fact recently, but it is a good thing to keep in your head.

    I wish I would have known that the double-sided sticky pads that you put at the bottom of the candle to hold the wicks will come off if you pour the wax even 1 degree too hot. I think I went through 10 before I realized this fact. I have all but poured cooler wax and find myself stirring pretty furiously at the end to keep the wax from getting too hard in the bottom of my pot. It only took 10, so yeah, I'm not that daft. I learned and I adjusted.  This was a BIG thing though because my fingers didn't always fit into the jar to put the sticky pad at the bottom if the jar was too tall. I've taken to using shorter candle containers and it's likely going to stay that way. They travel better in the mail as well.

    Also, I wish I would have known that I could and should cut the wooden wicks BEFORE I pour the wax.  I didn't even think about it. I just added the wick, and poured and then tried to cut the wicks when the wax hardened. NOPE.  I ruined the tops of almost all the candles when I did that. I compensated by heating them up in the microwave enough to get the top to melt, but that melted the bottom too, and BAM the sticky thing came off! You live, you play, you learn. Cut the wooden wicks before you put them into the jar.  (Also pour closer to the wick and not the side of the jar because you can drip the wax on the glass and then it's a bear to get off. I mean, that's OK if you're keeping your candle, but if you intend to sell them the client probably expects you to be a bit more careful when you pour. Learn from my mistakes folks, learn from my mistakes. 

    There's probably a dozen other things, but really candle making is so simple. I literally scoop the flakes of wax into the measuring cup and put it in the microwave for four (4) minutes. If it's not done I stir it and pop it back in for another 30 seconds.  While the wax is melting I set the candle jars with the two-sided sticky pad, the wick, and if I'm using a cotton wick (I don't really use them anymore) I put the stabilizer on top to hold the wick straight. You can cut those wicks off after the wax cools. I test the temperature of the wax and since I use Golden Wax products (soy) I wait for the wax to be around 122-123 degrees.  I add the scent just before I pour it, and I stir it well before I pour the wax into the jars.

    After you pour the candles (this is the MOST important part)  LEAVE IT ALONE until it hardens.  I sometimes wait until just before the candles fully harden and I add flower pedals, glitter, or tiny beads to the top to make it a bit prettier.  Most of my candles are white when I pour them. I use colors from time to time, but mostly just keep it as simple as possible.  I use 7 ounce mini-yogurt style glass clear jars for my candles.  I can barely reach the bottom to put the sticky pad in place, so sometimes I make sure I'm pressing firmly to keep the metal wick stand in place. It really is important to not pour too hot to remove that sticky pad. You don't want your wick roaming around. You're done.

    Candle making is fast. It's easy. There isn't that much of a mess to clean up, and the plastic measuring cup that I use doesn't really get too hot. If you microwaved glass measuring cups you'd want to be sure to use pot-holders to remove the measuring cup from the microwave, and be really careful not to burn yourself. Like I said, things I wish I knew. I sort of figured that one out on my own, but I bet there are videos about what you should, would, and could use.  Everyone likes to pass on a bit of wisdom when they can.  For me, I think the most I could tell you is to have fun and not put too much money into it if you just want to make candles for friends and family or gifts.  

    One 7-ounce candle with the right twine wrap, maybe a few beads on the twine, and a wooden wick would sell for upwards of $15.00 at a retail store, but even including the jar, the scent, the wax, and the wick, I pay about $1.45-1.90 depending on how fancy I want to be.  I charge $9.00 online and I ask that the client pay actual shipping. I don't charge handling. I wrap with bubble wrap and in a good box.  I even have a little warning sticker on the bottom of each candle, but you can get a roll of 500 stickers for $5.00 online.

    Etsy makes it simple and easy for people to make and sell really cool products. You can get into it and make a bunch more money if you have the money to pour into the supplies, racks, boxes, wrap, etc. You can get your cost basis way down if you are able to afford a really good capital investment. I think I put in $300 for the candles and I'll net $600 the first round. I'll pour that money back into the supplies and start over with the products. It may take a few swings and sets to call it a "profitable business" but for now I'm in the learning stage(s) and I don't mind putting in a bit more money and time to learn what I need to know.  I'll keep you posted. 

Photo Credit: Me

When is Too Much Too Much?

 This past week a rather interesting man passed away and though there was a bit of sweet remembrance, there wasn't the ungodly fanfare and rumor-flying gossip that is often associated with famous and even the infamous passing from this Earth.  Mike Nesmith, lead guitarist and singer in the more-than-just-fictional band The Monkees, passed of natural causes at the age of 78. I know, people will say (even Mike said) that The Monkees weren't REALLY a band. They played a band on television, and they pretended to be a musical group. They even released albums as a band, and most of us knew later on, after we grew up and figured it out for ourselves, that the musicians behind the music were paid studio musicians, but Mike Nesmith was an actual singer, and actual songwriter, and yeah, he played guitar fairly well.  I liked the guy; even though I was  in "Camp Mickey". I will admit that now. I was into the drummer.

    When Mike Nesmith passed and I saw a little something written about him, I couldn't help but ask myself what happens when someone who isn't so famous, but maybe we like their music, or maybe we bought their music, what happens when they fall ill, pass away or even relapse into depression or worse? Are we (as fans or followers) part of the "those in the know" about such a person? Would it be too much information to give to the public at large? When is too much too much? When does it become public knowledge when one of the not-so-recognized becomes a statistic? Is it meant for us to wonder about the safety and well being of that musician, songwriter, singer, or performer? Do we (as fans and followers) even have the RIGHT to wonder? Who decides that? I mean, they sort of put themselves in the light, right? They wanted us to see them and pay for their music, their movies, their performances for hire, but is it suddenly hands off when they fall from grace, die, or become less than loveable? I don't think it's right to keep those who made the light shine to be kept in the dark. 

    I understand the need to be private and the desire to be quiet about private matters. There seems to be a bit of a balance really, and often times it's a one-way street that only the performers can travel. They don't particularly know or even care if one of their fans falls off the wagon, so maybe they think it's no one's business if they skip a beat.  Then again, if I had thousands of followers and I was depressed or feeling like I needed a collective hug, I think I may just reach out to those very people and ask questions, seek answers, find ways to communicate on another level rather than just saying (without saying) "Thanks for buying my music and putting food on my table, but yeah, I'm not going to tell you about my actual life. You don't deserve to know anything. You just keep forking out the money and listening to me."  Maybe it's just me, but I would write a blog, a song, have a YouTube dedicated to it, or open a live Zoom chat for anyone who loved me. I would say "Hey, I know you think you know me, but you didn't know I'm really struggling right now. I don't need your money. I need your thoughts, your prayers, your suggestions, maybe. I need to know I have a real base, not just a fan base. Anyone who is willing to stay and chat with me, please do."  I'm just saying before I let it go too far I would reach out to the thousands and not hide from them.

    Recently, I've been in the closet praying for someone who means a great deal to me. I don't really have the right, (a right) to be considered a friend, but I am considering him my heart's assignment. I am not praying for the man because I'm all warm and fuzzy and can offer him the comfort he's always sought. No, God asked me to pray for the often prickly and insensitive sort.  He doesn't mean to be untouchable, I think he's been pushed, prodded, mishandled, abused, used, and set up to be thrown down, just a few too many times. He couldn't reach out if he wanted to because of the backlash he'd cause within his own family if he did.

     I think the family thinks it's best if he hides. I think the family thinks they're doing the right thing by keeping him quiet, and not telling the world or allowing him to tell the world his needs.  This hurts on a deeper level than just him being an assignment for me. He's a Christian man. The Bible is very clear about reaching out and sharing our pain with other Christians so that we can all support and uphold the weak among us. Think of this song,  "Lean on me, when you're not strong. I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on." When we need it, we should ask for it. There are those of us who are built tough enough to be the one called upon to pray and fast for healing, guidance, protection, and wisdom. 

    I don't know. I understand some privacy. I understand some drawing back. I understand some withholding; it's not good to share all of your dirty laundry, I know that, but at the same time it's good to be comforted by those who have already been there or those who are educated and experienced in whatever it is. If it's absolutely medical, in that the man is dying, dead, or otherwise incapable of reaching out, well then, perhaps a mention or update would be considered so that he doesn't simply fade into the gray to become a memory to some and less to most. Is that fair to what he created? Is that what he would want? 

    Well, I'll let it go for now, but keep my rock in my hand as I hang out in the closet with my clothes and those boxes I've been saving all year to pack Christmas presents into. I know I have been asked by God to be there when the time was necessary for the intercession and I guess this is it. This is that time. I may not now, I may not ever know the situation, but that's not the assignment is it? No, it's not for me to question, but to do.  I'm pretty good at doing. I'm not good at not knowing. God's working on me; it's ongoing. I'm getting better, I promise.  WE (Christians) won't be here on this Earth collectively much longer. If I don't find out now what I think I need or want to know, I'll find out later, and in the end, in the actual end, there is a beginning of eternity.  To be honest, not one thing (not a single damn thing) that happened here will really even matter.  King Solomon told us didn't he?  It's vanity. All of it. Nothing is worth worrying over. Give it to God and breathe. 

Photo Credit:  Getty Images - Mike Nesmith 

Oh, the Truth of it. ENTJ Runs in the Family!

 My son!  My precious, wonderful, ultimately best-looking-man-ever-made, son is an ENTJ! That's right, he's one helluva chip off the ol' ENTJ blockhead of a mom. He's a true Son-of-a-Bitch, that one. He is, and I'm not ashamed to say it. I am so very proud that he's "that way".   If I had to guess I bet Caity Baby is "that way" as well. Really, though, just as soon as I had typed those last words I thought about it. Reuben and I have the single trait that separates ENTJs from ENTP which is the overt and innate trait of needing to debate or argue.  We do argue, but we know we're right, whereas ENTPs will never back away even when they realize they are dead wrong. Reuben and I (especially me, Oh My Gosh), hate to be wrong, and there's never a need to chide either of us, we will kick our own ass(es) when we're wrong due to the simple fact that somehow (damn it) we're wrong. We do not like to be wrong. It's just so....well, wrong!

    Laura has to have a personality that begins with the capital letter "I" for Introvert. She's the strong silent type. You can hear Caity and Reuben (and me) coming from a mile away, but Laura will be right next to you for hours and you may never realize it. She doesn't like to bother or interrupt. She isn't one to make a stand or noise publicly. She really prefers to be the one blending into the woodwork whereas Reuben and I set the stage, start the trend, make things happen, make the way, make the wedge, forge forward, and neither of us can understand or comprehend when we turn around and there's no one following us. We have the answers and the answers will always, most always, be the correct one. We're willing to bet our own lives on it, and certainly yours.  Caity, quite probably an ENTP, would only bet your life. There is, in fact, another difference between she and her oldest sib.  (Laura would remove you from the situation and place her own life in front of you before she allowed you to be harmed. Reuben and I will allow you to be harmed if you're stupid enough to put yourself in the middle of our protective shield and the enemy.)

    When Reuben posted this week that he had taken the extended 16-Personality Myers Briggs test, and that his results were a firm ENTJ, I was all but in tears with rapture. My baby! My son! My joy!  Could it be that growing up he was actually paying attention? Was I molding this kid into the Commander that he has obviously turned out to be? Oh, if I only let myself dream that I had some small part in making him as grand and outstanding as he is, I would be able to die a happy woman.  I've been so busy trying to make sure that I didn't influence the girls to the point that they screwed up as badly as I did. I thought all along that Reuben would be a survivor.  (Now, after saying that, and typing that out, I realize that if any of us will ultimately survive a Zombie Apocalypse it will be Caity. We will all be sacrificed first before she takes one for the team. There is no team with Caity - - she will take the prize. Laura will die first.)

    I lament the fact that I am a Ravenclaw in a house full of Gryffindors.  Truth.  I am the ONLY Ravenclaw Stringfellow that I know.  Reuben, Laura, Caity, Caity's husband (best SIL ever) Brandon, even my two grandchildren are Gryffindors.  I don't know how that happened. I was clearly careful about what I taught them and how I trained them. They obviously had thoughts of their own, and without thinking these thoughts through appropriately, they decided to act (action) upon them. Action! Action! That's what I had to put up with for years upon years. Even before J.K. Rowling had us separating ourselves into distinct "Houses" I was quite clear about training, lecturing, and mentoring my little minions. To my chagrin each and every last child has not only outplayed me, they have outlasted me. They have not however outwitted me. That is my weapon.  Wit and the fact that I kill at Chess. Reuben, to his credit, has beat me ONE time. ONE time.

    So there it is. I have the opportunity now to breathe, to rest, to know that I have raised and successfully raised three amazing and incredibly humans. I am an influencing factor. I am and I was useful in their upbringing. I can't be blamed, but I can be credited. I won't take blame, and I won't take anyone saying I didn't do it right, because I KNOW I did this correctly. I have the evidence in front of my face -- thank you, Jesus. We couldn't have done it without Him.  To think.  To sit back and just think, that my son takes after me in more ways than just saying what's on his mind whenever he feels the need; but to know he will forever speak his mind bluntly and directly, expecting any and all who hear him to understand that he is doing so for their benefit more so than his own - - makes me weep just a wee tear out the corner of my eye - - my heart is pounding. So proud.

Photo Credit: Reuben Stringfellow

Shopping for One

 If you've been keeping up with my blogs you know I'm about to venture out on my own and drop the little one from my grocery list. That's right, I had to MOVE OUT OF THE APARTMENT to get rid of my clingy kid. She's OK with it, she's had six and a half years (who am I kidding, she's had 32 years) to get used to me, and to fully accept and understand me. This not being the case, it's time to move forward and leave her redheaded mess-making self to the wolves.  I say the wolves. Hopefully, she hasn't actually adopted or rescued any actual timber canine; but I haven't checked in a day or so. She did pick up a Mediterranean Gecko this past week. We have a new cage now. Scratch that; because she rescued the gecko she felt it needed a buddy and bought a bearded dragon (plus the cage, lights, basking rock, bedding, food, etc., etc., etc., ) and now they're both living in her room.  This is what I'm leaving. I'm going to go away, breathe quietly, and do so without dozens of fuzzy and/or scaly faces staring at me.

    I woke up this morning and decided to pretend I was already living on my own. I  purposely didn't say good morning to my daughter who was still sleeping. I purposely made my own coffee without putting on her tea. I purposely didn't feed her dog, but took my own dog for a walk.  Then I promptly felt absolutely too guilty about that, and fed her dog. You know I'm not that big of an asshat. I can't take it. He just too sweet to ignore. He did that head tilt thing - not understanding my actions.  I had to break character and feed him.  I sat in my chair and when my daughter woke up and asked me if I had set her tea I didn't answer her right away. I pretended she had called me on the phone so I answered her with my phone up to me ear and said "No, I'm sorry, I'm in my new apartment you know. I don't have your tea pot over here. You'll have to make it yourself, but I did feed your dog."    Deciding to play along with me, my daughter pretended to hang up on me, and made herself tea. Then she told her dog what kind of an asshat she thinks I am, but I know he totally disagreed with her. I could see it in his eyes.

    Staying in my groove, I decided to head off to the stores, the post office, and the grocery store by myself.  I barely got to the car when I realized she was behind me. I acted as if she was on the radio, and turned the knob down so I didn't have to hear her. It didn't work. She goosed me in the side and made me scream! FINE!  I told her she could pretend with me, but she couldn't make any suggestions I was shopping for one, not two.  She agreed to pretend not to make suggestions and she allowed me to think I was buying food for myself only. It didn't work out that way at the check out counter, but I had fun thinking I was buying just my stuff.  When we did make it to the check out she was kind enough to buy her own food, and let me buy my own as well.  She insisted on bagging them separately so I could keep my dream going - - good plan.  When we got home I had more things to carry upstairs, and I had to move things around in the kitchen to accommodate my new food, but it worked out for the best. She doesn't like my stuffed mushrooms, my Italian sausage, or my steel cut oats. She doesn't like most of what I bought, and when she asked what this was, or that was, I told her it was FOOD. It was REAL food, and adults ate it. She laughed. She said "Well, this one eats ramen."  Yes...yes, I know.

    The fantasy extended to my bedroom later today when she walked into it and asked what the hell that god-awful smell was.  Well, Laura dear,  it's a candle. The scent is Himalayan Bamboo and I made it. I like it. She made a sniff-cough noise and closed my door. Just think, if all I had to do was burn a bamboo candle to get her to leave my room when I'm typing, I would have done that six years ago. Who knew?  I poked my head around the corner of my room and gazed into her room for a second to see what she was doing. I could hear her talking about me. She was on her computer, headsets on, eyes glued to the images of her four international friends as they zoom and/or do the Facebook Live thing. She was explaining to them what I was doing and why I was doing it. They all, without exception, all four of them, told her it was time I left the apartment and she should grow up.  LOL...I laughed. I punched her in the gut first, but I laughed. She laughed too, but couldn't turn around fast enough to get me. I was out the door!

    Glancing over my cupboards just a few minutes ago I found so many wonderful things I will be making for myself (and her if she wants it) for the next foreseeable future. I can Pinterest the daylights out of dinner ideas. I can go on for weeks on end. I can literally turn a few ingredients into a masterpiece of culinary surprise; if she would only stop interrupting my mojo with her need to boil water to cook an egg or microwave a boxed mac and cheese. I am over there cutting up cilantro, pressing olives, and fileting cod while she's tearing off the paper protective cover of something in a plastic sort of paper sort of cup thing. I stand and wait while she adds unfiltered water to it. I blink with confusion. Did I really give birth and raise this one? Did an alien come by years ago and maybe slink its way inside the skin of 2nd born without me realizing it? Who gives up roasted herb cod for preprocessed powdered cheese and hard noodles in a box? My kid.  That's the answer. My kid.

    I scoured the internet for recipes and wrote down the ingredients I would need to create them. I did the math, the calculations in order to only buy as much as I would need plus maybe a little more in case her tastebuds could beg her head to try something good for once.  I bought the food, I put it away, I never actually have to label it or write notes to say "don't eat my food" because this woman is a Taurus and she will never eat anything other than the same old grass in her pasture. NEVER. It will not happen. I could count on it and set my clock to it. Now, that being said, if I buy food that she likes it won't be in the cupboard when I think I want it. Nope, that's a given. She'll lay claim to anything and everything that has become standard, or ordinarily routine. She's a rut eater. If she's eaten it for the past 32 years she'll continue to scarf it without asking. I needed a strategy and it was rather easy to accomplish. I just had to buy food she hadn't seen or heard of. 

    It won't be long before my phone is blowing up with texts and voice messages about whether or not I have an extra box of noodles in my new apartment. She'll ask if I bought Lactose Free milk and if it was HER brand. I will intentionally buy 2% regular milk so I can keep my dairy supply.  She'll write to me and ask me I have any hot dogs, Lil Smokies, Vienna sausages in a can, or if I bought any cheap cookies that, to me, taste like cardboard. No Laura. No, will be my answer. I have beef Wellington. I have orange marmalade, I have fresh organic salsa made by some woman you've never met. I have rich chocolate cakes that I made and froze to keep fresh. I have marinating butter steak strips to make surf and turf kabobs tomorrow -- but there's nothing in my house that has preservatives or comes in a MSG filled form; sorry.  She'll come over reluctantly, and allow me to feed her. I know my kid. She'll bitch about the sandalwood incense and she'll likely collapse for hours in my papasan chair.  I know she'll miss me. She'll pretend she doesn't, but she'll bring her little dog with her so he won't be eye-balled by her new pet snake. Just sayin'.  There will be one the second I leave the place. Mark my words.

Photo Credit:  Jessica Gavin

    

Things to Think About

 Today is December 16, 2021, and I would have been taking the SIE tomorrow except I decided to postpone the exam because I found a guy (Dean Tinney) on YouTube, and he does an AMAZING job at disclosing and discussing the various sections of the SIE Exam.  He goes over every point, and every thing that could be tested. He's awesome! I wanted to have time to go through all of his videos and really let that new wisdom sink in a minute before subjecting myself to testing over it.  That will be Wednesday 12/22/2022, and I think I can say with pretty cool confidence, that Tinney's explanations have really helped me to the point that I believe I can (and will) pass the SIE.

    Today, I also received a message from a great online employer who wanted me to consider working in the insurance and finance world from home. Yes, I'm listening. Go on!  I was struck primarily by how the company's ethics and reputation is really well received. They have several good marks and reports online, so I decided to apply for the open position of "Analyst" and we'll see what happens. It won't be the end-all type job, but just coming off the SIE and needing work for the start of the year, things are looking upward! I can stay home, work in my jammies, and enjoy myself as I lounge about with the dog discussing insurance over the headset. I am not required to be on camera. That's always a plus, even though I don't mind putting on make up and pretending to be wearing professional clothes from the waist up, I can now just talk and talk, and walk around the apartment doing light quiet chores while I discuss a client's needs. I don't have to be tethered to the computer with monitors recording my every move. Sure, my voice will still be recorded, but I don't have to explain why it is that I got up out of my chair to let the dog in from the patio.

    The job doesn't pay as much as a position outside the house, but the perks are amazing! To begin with, I won't have to put up with office gossip and rumors. I am the office. If I decide to talk down on someone else it's only me, and I can handle myself. I don't have to listen to me if I don't want to. I can absolutely ignore myself when called upon to do so. I don't and won't have to worry about being at work on time. I am at work when I roll out of bed. I can get up early enough to make my first cup of coffee, write in my journal, take the dog out, chit-chat with the neighbors who happen to be hovering around my door, and then go back inside and work! I love that. I won't be able to "move up the ladder" to the point of getting a corner office, but my office is just fine. I have enough room to dance, box, spin around and do squats, and if I want to, I can lift weights and do pilates while I sign someone up for a new variable annuity. I am THAT talented. This is gonna be cool.

    The best thing about working from home, and soon, working by myself since I'll be moving out on my own and dumping the little one - - is that I can cook, bake, clean, pay bills, exercise, walk the dog, write out notes to friends and family, shop online, and work at the same time. About the only thing I can't do on work time is listen to music because I'll be listening to clients, but it's all good. I get off at 4:00 p.m. and have the evening to enjoy my Celtic folk tunes. I am not going to get rich with this new position, but I will have a great time relaxing, living my own life, and not worrying about making ends meet, disciplining anyone, arguing with staff or administration, being bullied by co-workers, feeling like I am being watched all the time, and I won't have to worry about anyone taking my lunch or snacks out of the company frig! (Except when Laura makes her way over to my place, then yeah, I have to worry about that.)

    Since Reuben is taking over the payments of my car this coming month, and Laura and I are sharing her car because we can, I will be saving even more money and I won't have to drive back and forth in nasty traffic or when the sun hasn't woken up. I will be HOME!  To celebrate my new adventures I think I'll go out and buy myself a new convection oven so I don't have to spend as much time and money cooking in a conventional oven. Heck, it's just me. I'll have the air-fryer and the new convection toaster oven - - (and microwave) so I'll be super happy and efficient as well. Can't beat that.  I often ask myself if I will miss teaching and then I stop myself and say no. No, I will not miss teaching. I thought I would, but the profession is NOT what it was years ago when I started. People don't treat people with professional distinction with the respect they actually deserve. If they did we wouldn't have so many lower paid teachers walking out and deciding to work from home.  I will miss the kids, but I won't miss the job. Isn't it always that way? Kids are kids. You can't hate on them. 

    So, new life, new journey, new chapters, new visions, new everything - - new apartment, new ways to eat, cook, clean, survive and thrive.  One thing that I did for myself was to buy a big exercise pilates ball that sits on a stand. I use it as an office chair. I have really been working my butt, thighs and calves with it, and let me tell you; my knees don't ache as much either. It's really helped with posture, weight, balance, the whole works. Do it if you can. Check with your doctor first, of course. Make sure you're allowed to have this much fun. Be happy in your choices and do what you love to do. When you wake up in the morning and GET to go to work it's so much better than when you HAVE to go.

Photo Credit: Gaiam

Just Having Too Much Fun

 I know I get on a kick and keep harping about it, but it's new and it's exciting, so yeah, I'm gonna go on and on about it. No one has to actually read my blog if they don't want to.  I mean, I do, I read what I write to remind myself that I could have used another comma here or there, or I could have used a different set of words. Often times I think to myself that I should have another window open with the thesaurus pulled up so I can actually use another word for the word I over use. LOL...that's telling. Do you do that? OK, so it's just me, got it.  I'm not gonna blame the English teacher living inside of me, I'm going to blame the one I am thinking of at the moment I wrote "gonna" and laugh - - because I can.

    So, I'm moving out of the apartment after six plus years, and I'm thinking I can probably take most of the stuff I brought to the apartment with me.  I pulled out the handy-dandy notebook on a hard flat clipboard to make my list of all the things I'm bringing with me. My things. Things I bought and paid for. Things I think I have to have and can't possibly let Laura keep.  Little did I know she was standing right there with me giving me suggestions and basically saying I had too much crap and she didn't want it in HER apartment anymore. Really? Because I'm not taking a single thing that isn't mine, except maybe the dog lead she bought but in fairness she did buy it for Ginger! I'm taking Ginger! Ginger is MINE! I say that with the biggest smile on my face. Ginger has no idea what we're planning and as soon as we move she'll be scratching the door to get to Laura's after maybe, I don't know, an hour.

    I'm taking the bookshelves damn it! I paid great money for them. She laughed at me and said, "I really hope you take these bookshelves, they're really out of date and not my style."  She went on to show me the ones she's picked out to buy the second I pull those two out of the apartment! I'm taking the smaller appliances too because I'm the cook. She's got Door-Dash on speed dial. This is funny though, I was going through the kitchen to find all the things I want to take, and I opened the silverware (or flatware) drawer. I looked and saw quite a few various forks, spoons, butter knives, etc., and I said, "Hey, why do we have so many different types of flatware anyway?" It's like we just sort of never really stuck with one style, we had a few from when I was first married, then a few from when we lived here or there. Now we have all sizes, types, brands, and shapes of forks that if I had to pull them all out and match them up I couldn't come up with a set of anything. She looked at me and said "You take the thick ones, I like the thin ones."  That was so weird. I was thinking to myself I wanted the thick ones but I didn't want to upset her or make her think I was leaving the bad ones for her. She went on to say that she digs through them all to find the thinner style flatware....what? Thirty-two years you live with someone and you never know things about them -- crazy.

    We have really nice art on the walls and we divided those just as easily. She hated the ones I loved. I didn't really like the ones she thought were best, and it just went that way all through the apartment. Could it be generational? Could it be she's NOT my clone? Or, maybe she is my clone, but she's opposite of myself, and that's why we get along so well to be able to ignore each other nearly every day and night, but never letting the other know that we're ignoring them. We smile and wave a lot. 

    We both keep our respective doors closed so that we don't have to hear each other. I listen to Celtic music rather loudly without headphones because if I have my headphones on I can't hear her screaming at me to answer my phone that's been ringing non-stop.  She stays on her computer all day and night either talking on the phone to clients and customers or with her international friends on one of the many games they play into the night.  There's a lot of screaming from time to time, and I routinely get up and open and shut her door a few times to say "You know, you're really kind of loud!"  She does the same thing to me - - so I guess we're not gonna miss that! Ginger may miss that. I think Ginger secretly likes the drama.  Caity has already called a couple of times to say she will believe it when she sees it, because she thinks we can't handle being apart from each other for more than a day.

    I am leaving her the nasty cat-clawed, chewed up couch and chair that I once believed were really chic and couldn't stop staring at them. That was a few years before a few animals. She'll have them professionally cleaned again and buy covers for them. I'll buy new and forbid her to bring any animals over to visit Ginger. I'll take Ginger to her place. I may make the woman take off her shoes when she comes into my apartment since she goes to the barn most days. I'm leaving her the vacuum and the steam cleaner - - she'll use them more often and I want to start new, not even bringing old dust to my new home. She can keep her dust.  I am taking my saddle and stand. If nothing else it will be a great decoration. When Baeleigh (cat) was alive she loved sitting on the saddle. It was her place to hide, sort of like a "base" where the other cats knew she was off limits.  If Bae Bae were with us I'd take her. She's not like the others. I don't think she ever clawed anything other than her cardboard scratch posts, the ones she was supposed to destroy. Maybe it's a boy-cat thing.

    Anyway, I went through the apartment making a list of what I was bringing, and another list of what I would need. I went to Home Depot online, I went to Pinterest. I went to Wayfair, and I went to Target online as well. I found all the things I need to make my happy little home my happy little home. I am going to be so decked out when I get it - - at least in my head until I can actually afford to buy all the things I wrote down on my two lists.  My lists have lists. Do you do that too? Is that just me? My plans have plans. I plan to plan. There is the pre-plan for the pre-plan in most cases and I get around to executing most of my plans most of the time. I think the fun part is the mental exercises. I draw the floor plans and pencil in where I'll put the furniture I haven't bought. I even label things like "lamp" or "flower pot", I'm not kidding. I'm anal, but she's the one with OCD, so just for fun I left my clipboard in the middle of the kitchen floor and walked away.  LOL...is that mean?

I will absolutely miss that kid - - but I can't let her know that.

Photo Credit:  Me.

Baeleigh on the saddle.