Weird Dream - Ships/Windows/Kyle Wesley

 Let me preface this by saying I seem to have very odd dreams, but I do remember them. I do remember details, and I also remember words, things I've said, things said to me, numbers, etc.  That being said, let's just jump into it.  My friend Niki told me that when you jump into the middle of a story, not at the beginning, it's called "in media res" that sounds cool. Let's dive into the middle, shall we?

    I was in a place with a man, he was my boyfriend, and he called himself Mike, but I knew that wasn't his name. He told people he was from Dublin, and I knew that wasn't true either. I wasn't really impressed with the guy, so when he was flirting with another woman I looked him in the eyes (he was actually wearing sunglasses) and I said "Let me make it easy for you" and I walked away. I was wearing a really pretty black sleeveless dress, and I sort of jogged home. I used the highway to find my way home.  

     I was about to arrive home when I saw a young woman who was blond and small. The woman had a baby in her arms. She told me his name was Kyle Wesley. The woman handed me her baby. He was wearing a white crocheted outfit. She wanted me to adopt him. She couldn't afford to keep him. I told her I would. I then found myself handing him back to her and she had a man with her, perhaps the father. I was super happy they wanted Kyle back, and we prayed together. That made me happy. 

    I never made it home. I was now on a ship, not a boat, but a cruise ship and I was with my friends Niki and Jeannie. We needed to get to the other side. We HAD to get there. Suddenly it was imperative that we make it over there, and they lifted me up and I found myself standing on them to reach a window.  They weren't in danger or peril, it wasn't even hard for them to lift me. I was asking the people on the other side of the window to let me in, but they couldn't. It wasn't that they wouldn't, they actually couldn't.  I had to do it.  I began shielding Niki and Jeannie with my shirt and I broke through the thick glass with a stick or something. It took a while.

    After breaking the glass, I pulled the window out of the frame, and the frame came apart I was having to pull more than I thought I needed to, but I finally got it off and open so I could crawl through it. Niki and Jeannie went on their way. I was the only one to go through the window. There, on the other side was broken clear glass, but it wasn't hurting me or anyone. I picked it up.  A man, the captain probably, who was named Donald, was asking me why I didn't use the door. I told him there was no door. I could only use the window and I had to break it. He argued, but he realized I was right and he apologized.

    While I was talking to the others on the other side of the glass where I was now, I said "I know Oprah Winfrey so my story will be told".  They were happy to know it. As I was talking I had to pull the glass from my throat, but it wasn't hurting me. I wasn't in danger, it was just there.  I was told I needed to go to the doctor's office to be checked so I could continue the trip.  The doctor was in room 210.  His office was down a floor, so I took the stairs and noticed I was in a pink party dress now. I stopped by the staircase and had my photo taken before going to the doctor's office.

    I arrived at the doctor's office but instead of a door it was a gate, and animals were on the other side. He was a veterinarian rather than a GP, but he was nice and he let me pet all the animals. I saw a Haflinger horse, a cow, a lamb, a dog or two, and several cats, all lined up on the floor ready to be petted.  He gave me a plant and told me I was fine!  This is the last thing I remember before waking up.

    After looking up all the meanings and going through them to see what I thought was the gist of the dream, I can say that I'm on a journey, I'm going alone, leaving my friends, and I'm happy to be standing on my own two feet, holding my ground, standing up for myself, and taking control of the situation at hand.  The name Kyle Wesley literally means "Narrow Meadow to the West"  Interestingly, there is a larger park in the center towards the west side of Edinburgh City Centre called The Meadows. It is rather long and narrow.  Could that be where I'm going? I accepted it and gave it back to the owners/parents. I didn't keep it. I went on to another place.

    The number 210 is said to be a number of gratitude. To be happy with what I have and not to seek more or try to overdo it.  I'm OK with that too. I want to be content. The party dress and the elegant dress were nice, they show that I am preparing myself for a trip, a journey, something fun, and adventurous.  The ship is literally a relaxed way of cruising through my waking hours, but I must break through new windows to be where I need to be and again, alone, not with friends or family. 

    Speaking about knowing Oprah (I have met the woman) is probably more or less saying I have connections, and I'll be OK wherever it is that I go. I don't have problems finding new friends or acquaintances. I make sure I stay connected.  Basically, I think the white crocheted outfit could mean newness, innocence, first time there, that sort of thing, and that makes sense. I could also be thinking of going to another place where I haven't actually been.  We'll have to see.

    As for the doctor and the last things I saw, the animals? I think the doctor represented authority to say it's OK, you check out, you're fine, you'll make it. The plant represented new beginnings, and strong life and the animals I saw are farm-type animals, friendly and helpful. The several cats lined up for their petting was fun, it was sort of saying we're all in line now, just as you wanted us!  I'm thinking this is a good dream about my future plans to move to Scotland and just be happy and healthy, on my own, standing up for myself, and doing what I need to do to find new friends, new everything - - the journey is mine to take!

Photo Credit: Unknown / Etsy

    

Poetry - Writers

 I can't say with any certainty, how many poems I've written in the 784 years I've been alive. It's at least once a year, I can tell you that. There's no way I can possibly remember the words to every one of them; let alone the message I may have been trying to convey.  I will say this, I laugh at times when I find myself reading a poem I find in a box lost somewhere in my house or attic and then find myself saying "Oh, I think I like that" when I wrote it. I laugh. I do.  I wonder if other people do that or is it's just me. I wonder if there are people who can remember that they actually penned the words when they did it, why they did it, you know - - memories? 

    I came across a poem I wrote in the early '80s the other day and I thought about it. I thought I should publish that, but then I realized I did publish it! I not only published it in a newspaper I put it in my poetry book titled "Periwinkle".  I'd like to re-do that book if only to take out the thoughts I wrote about the title poem. I no longer feel the way I do about the man I wrote the poem for. I was never in love with him. I in fact, never loved him at all in any way, but I really can't say I even have respect for him at this point and there I am now, in perpetuity being all kind and nice -- dang it. 

    Let me see if I can make things a bit more clear for anyone out there who doesn't know me. I am a poet. I am a writer. I am a storyteller. I am an author. At any moment (whatsoever) I could spontaneously burst into words...either spoken or written. When I get upset, pissed off, mad, or otherwise angry I can write words that cut through and leave no trace of life; I destroy and destroy utterly.  Thank God for that delete button.  Thank God for erasers.  When I am happy, when I am in love, when I am fantasizing, my words can lift and create life itself. There are new colors and hues of romance as well as extemporaneously vivid genesis! I become the keeper of flames, the bringer of passion -- I'd rather be happy I think.

    Today, I will leave you with a word or two I wrote in 2020 while praying and asking God to show me His mercy as I wondered about the future of my life here on this Earth.

    "Will I be a wife again, can I bring my heart to think it?

Will there be a moment when my soul receives a kiss?

Could I know again, the panting, the whispers of  enchantment

Are there words of hope waiting, somewhere in the mist?"

Who knows? Only God can answer that one. If it is to be it will be. I will certainly not seek it on my own. I've done enough damage in that area of my life. I will simply say that the ink in my pen and the blood in my veins would be pumping at the same time if it were so -- let the words commence God if it is your will. Let me know your will.  Ephesians 5 tells me a bit of what to expect, but it's a very sharp two-party sword that one. Not only does it cut both ways, but it also unites in a way that only God can.

Let the words stir in my head and in my heart -- awaiting their release.

Photo Credit: publishedtodeath.com

Roe Vs. Wade (My Opinion)

 President Ronald Reagan said it best "It would seem that everyone who is in favor of abortion has already been born"  Let's talk about that for a minute.  I know people who have had abortions. I know people who wish they wouldn't have had their abortion because it's the one thing in their life that they can point to that caused them so much pain and self-hate that they can't seem to move forward with any respect for themselves. Two of these women are movie stars. If I told you their names you would know exactly who they are. One of them ended her life over the situation, and another tried to take her life but failed to do so and is now living with that guilt as well.  Am I happy that Roe vs. Wade was overturned today? Hell yes, I am, but I wish it would never have become law, to begin with. MILLIONS of unborn babies have been murdered for the sake of convenience who would have otherwise been thriving adults today.

    A woman on the Left will scream "My body, my choice" until you tell her that the woman on the Right doesn't want to be injected with an unknown substance. Then the woman on the Left is screaming that the woman on the Right is murdering people with her diseased breath! Wasn't the woman on the Left willing to murder an innocent unborn child?  My UK friends will say that we Americans are selfish and unmoving because we think we deserve our human rights and Constitutional rights when it comes to making decisions about being vaccinated, but what about the rights of the unborn? What about the fathers of these unborn babies? Not the ones who paid for the abortions, but the ones who never knew there was a baby! 

    We Americans are not selfish when we won't submit and surrender to wearing masks and being vaccinated "for the greater good" there is no good in the equation! It hasn't been proven, it's only been bounced about in theory on both sides of the argument. You can't find a single blind-blind study for either side that proves that there is a need to vaccinate for the virus - - it's a freaking virus, it can be cured by simple means, and the LEFT stopped our means! Literally stopped producing the chemicals needed to cheaply cure the virus and called us all conspiracy theorists even when that science was proven beyond doubt regarding the cure. The LEFT is the LEFT and will simply continue to bitch about whatever they choose to bitch about and as long as they hold the gold they think they make the rules.

    Today, with the Supreme Court ruling in Roe vs. Wade, it wasn't the LEFT that lost, it was the BABIES who won! Here's a thought, if you don't want a baby, don't have sex. If you don't want a baby, but you want to have sex, be as careful as you can be. If you can't be careful, and you still don't want that baby, adopt it out or give it to a willing and loving family who would go to the end of the world to raise a child. There are so many options - - thank you JESUS, that we as a nation can say with confidence that an unborn life is a LIFE. 

    I plant avocado seeds in every state I go to, just because I think it's a fun thing to do. I also plant sunflowers in crazy wild areas, usually around barns, and not ONE TIME has anyone said to me "Hey, I love those roses you planted by the barn" because it wasn't a ROSE that was planted.  When you plant a baby human inside the fertile uterus, a BABY HUMAN is going to be born. It's not a blob, it's not a thing, it's not an IT...it's a BABY!  Our nation will be severely judged by Almighty God one day for more than 65,000,000 unborn babies that were murdered over the years, and if you want to scream about Black Lives mattering - - more than 72% of those 65,000,000 babies were African American babies!  (Google that sh*t!)

    I for one, stand with the Supreme Court of the United States today in their decision to overturn Roe vs. Wade.  It should be understood that the American people are people who fear God and do what He commands. Judgment is real, and unfortunately, we're already in the throws of it - - the least we can do is try to ease the suffering as best we can until He returns to call us home. When that happens there won't be a single baby left on this planet for them to murder - - you don't have to Google that, you can just read your Bible - - if you have one! That's another sad statistic in our country and it's the reason we have to fight this crap in court these days. God isn't allowed in our schools, and He's not welcome in most homes, but that's another blog.  Today, our Court spoke.  Thank you!

God bless the little children - and may there be many more!!

Photo Credit: YouTube.com

    

My First Demo Trades

 I started my Trading View/Oanda demo trading today. It's so much fun to sit back and watch the market. I've not yet pushed the buy/sell buttons, what I'm doing is just playing the buy/sell position on the trade chart and watching. I know it's only demo money, but I'm just not ready to pull the trigger yet and make an official mistake. This is me being the overthinker that I am. I'm not even willing to throw out fake money! This process is real, and it's a real practice for me. Practice doesn't make perfect folks, it's perfect practice that makes perfect.

    In the world of trading, no matter what market you trade, there is no one who does it perfectly every time. It's a game, it's a market, it's a risk. There are just too many things that can go right, and too many things that can go wrong. For those of you who aren't familiar with FOREX, or the Foreign Exchange, it's another market like the Stock Market, but it's only currencies. It is money buying and selling money. You find the two (pairs) currencies you wish to trade with, be it Euros, Dollars, Yen, etc, and you buy one using the other. For instance, if I trade the EUR/USD I'm using Euros to buy U.S. Dollars, and conversely, if I trade the USD/EUR I am using Dollars to buy the Euros. The market changes second by second!  You can go long and buy, you can go short and sell, you can sit and wait - - which is what I do.

    I am mostly a Swing trader at this point, but I'm practicing using the Day Trading method of getting in and getting out so I can practice putting in the trades and finding my place in line. I could lose, I could win. I'm practicing knowing when to enter. I'm reading patterns on the Daily and 4Hr chart, then dropping down to the shorter time frames of 1Hr and 15Min. to see if the candles give me a reason to enter. It's a process, not something you learn overnight.  

    My method is simple: I do what Steven Hart of The Trading Channel suggests, but he is by no means telling me what to do. He is not giving me Financial Advice. He's showing us online what he does, and how he does it, and we can take that information and use it or not. I'm following his guidelines as much as possible, but I will be honest, I broke protocol today by a mile!  I decided to add a bit of risk just for the heck of it, and I ended up winning. I won't do that with real money! I only did it with fake demo money, and I didn't hit the buy/sell buttons either. I'm not willing to stick my neck out yet - - I will tomorrow or Friday. I'm inching my way into the market like it's a fresh cold pool of water! Once I'm in I'll be OK, I'm sure.

    Right now I'm doing the longer waiting thing just to have more fun tonight. I was in a few-minute trade earlier, and I won. I will now try the waiting game and give it 4-8 hours to see if I made target or if I was stopped out. It's a good way to practice and I don't mind losing because it's learning. When I stop learning that's a problem. I'm hoping for a 68% win ratio over the next 1000 trades and if I can maintain that I'll start pushing the buy/sell button with my own capital.....maybe! I know I will have to do that sometime, but I really don't want to lose, so I'll keep the practice going until I'm really confident that I'll make a bit more each time than I risked. I can do the shorter risk-to-reward ratio for the first 3 months to be sure I know what I'm doing because I don't want to get overconfident... yet.

    Geez this is fun - - and nerve-wracking at the same time! LOVE IT.

Photo Credit: I snipped it from Trading View today. It's the trade I'm in right now.

Besties are the Best

 You know, besties are the best and I think it would be OK if my bestie found out today that I love her! I think she's the bestest best friend ever and I don't mind telling the world. Let's just do it. HEY WORLD, I love my best friend Jeannie! She and I have been really close since the very first minute we met in August 1977.  Yes, I know, I forgot to mention that we are both immortal and we will always be hovering around the same age as when we first met. It is what it is, and maybe that's why we're so close today. Neither of us really gets any older.

    So, I was at the high school and it was the very very first day of classes. We had been there the same week to pick up our schedules, but we didn't meet on that day. I was hanging with my brother I'm sure. He had been at the school a year before me, and actually, he's in her class, I'm not. I was supposed to graduate in 1980, but I decided to go ahead and skip my junior year and graduate in 1979.  Jeannie and my brother are in the Class of '78.  West is Best!! We know this to be a fact.

    I was walking around the cafeteria on the first day of school with my best friend from junior high, her name is Jen, and she and I had been besties for about two or three years. She and I walked up to a table, then Jen decided to walk around with another friend Karen. Karen, as it turns out, was Jeannie's best friend for a few years. When Jen and Karen took off and left Jeannie and I sitting awkwardly at the same table, we had little to no choice but to at least talk to each other. I think I was the one wearing the Bee Gees t-shirt, I'm not sure, one of us was.  She and I immediately struck up a conversation about the Bee Gees, and since she was a Barry fan and I was a Maurice fan, we hit it off.  That was then, this is now.

    A million years later, we're still besties, and let me tell you (without telling you too much) she and I have been to (oh a lot) a few concerts together. I think Andy Gibb was the first, and I think .38 Special may have been the last, but there were some 300 or so in the middle. She's still attending concerts. I only go if I can stand in the back and exit if I need to.  She went recently with another friend to see Steely Dan, so that would have been really fun; if I could stand in the back and make an exit. She's right up front screaming and yelling, I'm in the back making sure no one comes in with bad intentions. See the difference? We're best friends for a reason.

    She lets me drive. I don't complain about her being a vegetarian.  She puts up with my "I was fired again" stories, and I know she's been at her one job since we met in high school, and I don't tease her about not taking change well.  She was raised in a very proper and elite household (I think they had a maid), and I was raised in a mess of a place with humble beginnings and humble endings. She fusses with her hair and nails every week, and I cut mine - both. I cut my nails and my hair. I don't have time for that sort of girly thing.  We both love animals, we both love OU football, we both hate Oklahoma State, and we both love chocolate. 

    Our friendship was tested and tested HARD when we went with her church on a canoe trip down the Arkansas River.  What made me think I could row a few miles with her, I will never know. We capsized at least four times and lost literally everything we took with us, including the sunscreen, lip zinc, and money.  If it wasn't for the fact that someone somewhere up the river was playing Saturday Night Live loudly - - we may have ended right there. I may have had to kill her. The Bee Gees SAVED US!!  We have not gone anywhere in a boat since, and we won't.

    Apart from saying she's the best and just having you accept that fact, I can tell you that when I moved away to Indiana we still kept in touch daily through Facebook, texting, and calling. It was as if we were still close.  We've been through graduation, college, marriages, kids, now grandkids - - but we've not aged. It's just what it is folks, we don't get older. We stay so healthy, so happy, so wonderfully in shape, you really should see us.  We're like something from the Twilight Zone, I swear.  Well, whatever happens, know this; because my best friend in the whole wide world is born again, and I am born again, we're going to be best friends in ETERNITY too!! Oh my gosh! Can you imagine the concerts there? I will be upfront with her and not worry about a thing. THAT will be GLORIOUS!!  

    Happy 1874th birthday friend - - you rock!

Photo Credit: Darren Clarke

    

I Found a Diary.

 When I was really young and just learning to write, I thought it was so cool that I could write something on a piece of paper and give that paper to my mom to read. She would then write me back on either the same piece of paper or another one, and we would continue our correspondence this way for a very long time. It was a fun game. I also wrote poems and stuck them on the fridge for her approval. To my amazement, she never once said it was bad or that it could even use improvement. Wow.  Imagine having someone in your life that loved everything you did. Thanks, Mom.

    I can't tell you when I started keeping a journal, I know I had several and they either got thrown away or left in a storage box. I don't know. Maybe when I'm really rich and famous mom can pull them out from where she's been storing them and she can sell them for $$$$ and make bank! LOL. Don't hold your breath Woman!!  Mom taught me to never (never) write anything down that couldn't be posted in the newspaper for everyone to read. That's some damn good advice right there.

    In 2008, I was in New York City with my dog and her manager Mike Maguire. If you need to read that last sentence again, you can. Feel free to ask...Wait, What? Your dog had a manager? Yes, she did, and she had her own attorney as well. She was a mess, but she was my wonderful mess for sure.  We were in a restaurant in NYC and a man walked up to me and began asking questions about something I had written in a blog about donations. OK. Ask.  He was trying to trap me. He was trying to say I kept the donations.  It was now up to me to prove my innocence, as far as he was concerned.  Guess where he worked? The Washington Post. The newspaper. 

    It took me a minute to find the proof for the man. I didn't live in NYC, I lived in Oklahoma City, and I didn't have the receipts and such with me. I had to wait until our tour was over, then go home, and try to find the box I had them stored in, and it was a terrible ordeal to be sure. The man was bent on ruining my reputation as well as scarring that of my dog!  Well, I found the proof, and he had to hold off on his little dirty-laundry story. Mike threatened a lawsuit for defamation of character on Faith, not on me, which I thought was hilarious. NO ONE bad-mouths the dog and gets away with it. Ask Sebastian M.  He learned the hard way, too, he and Vince V.

    The point is, I write and I blog, and I have diaries and I have journals. I leave them hanging out and laying around the house most of the time.  I don't care if anyone (you) read them because I don't lie. I don't cover things up, and I don't sugarcoat things. I say exactly the things I feel at that time. I won't go back and erase, I won't go back and apologize. That is how I felt AT THAT TIME and people who find themselves offended by my writings will literally have to get over themselves. I'm not going to say I'm sorry for having a feeling.  I can try not to make them public. I can do that.

    This morning I wrote a long long dissertation in my diary. I was trying to figure something out, and often times it helps to write it down and do the whole Pro/Con thing with my mind.  I usually come to a few logical conclusions and I'll even admit that there are times I am WAY WAY off mark, and that's not always a bad thing. There are times I'm really very happy to be wrong. When I am wrong, I am the first to raise my own hand to take the blame and/or responsibility, but you'll never see me do that if I'm right. NOPE...you'll die a slow death before you see me admit wrongdoing if I am right. I may help you through your agony over it, but I'm not going to compromise my correctness. Sorry. It's who I am. I don't have to gloat, I rarely gloat in fact, but I won't "take it back". I'll work you through it.

    I saw a funny t-shirt today that made me laugh. It said, "If you don't like me, and still watch everything I do, then let's face it, you're a fan."  So true. The same could be said about (you) people right now who are reading my blog after claiming they can't stand me. OK, so why are they (you) reading my blog? Do you think I'll say something about you? I may. You should read my diary instead. It's really where the juicy stuff is anyway.  Just sayin'.

LOVE YOU!

Photo Credit: Boldomatic.com

    

    

Fathers.

When I think about fathers I can't help but think about my own daddy. I didn't call him "Father", just "Daddy" and later as we kids grew up and had kids of our own we began to call him "Pop". Funny how that happens. I know for a fact that he wasn't born with the name "Daddy"; he has the same name as my son and his own father, Reuben Stringfellow.  My daddy is Reuben Wayne, my son is Reuben Andrew, and my grandpa is Reuben Jefferson. There are quite a few Reu in our lives.

    The Bible tells us that children are a blessing from God, and I know that's true. I have been eternally blessed with my three. I suppose I was one of the four blessings my daddy had, and I'm absolutely sure all of my siblings agree that he was (and is) one of the best gifts we could ever have received from our Heavenly Father. What I think is really cool is that we can call God "Father" and we can call him "Abba" as well, which is the Hebrew way of saying "Daddy".  I also find it funny how dads claim their baby is saying their name when the child utters something like "da-da" or "Abba", we get it, you're awesome! We know this.

    I've seen the meme and/or saying that "Anyone can be a father, it takes a man to be a Daddy", and I have to agree with that statement. In my life, I have had two separate men decide on their own to stop being a daddy or a father to their children and to choose women, lust, sex, etc, over the extraordinary blessings sent to them from God Himself. It's heartbreaking, to say the least; crushing in fact. This is another reason why I think of my Daddy and call him my hero.  He didn't have to stay; I mean, he did, mom would have killed him if he had left her, but yeah, he wanted to stay. He taught all of us lessons far beyond that what we could ever learn on our own, from friends, and even from good people who wanted to give us the best of life. God gave us a Daddy. That was and is incredibly wonderful to hold in my heart.

    My daddy wasn't the type to play football in the front yard with us. He didn't pal around with us, teach us to fight, drink, hunt, or watch sports with us. He took us camping, and fishing, talked to us about life, read the Bible to us, and showed us what a husband should be, how a husband should treat his wife, and how a man should treat his children. There's just no replacement for that sort of thing in a child's life. To say I was blessed would be a great understatement. I was impressed, stamped, dyed in the color of true love, and it will always be that way even in Heaven.  

    Daddy decided to go see Jesus on October 5, 2017. He had an appointment he just couldn't reschedule. I know when the trumpet blows his body will rise before mine if I'm still alive during the Rapture. I know that right now he's up in Heaven in his spirit and he's making lots of wonderful plans for my room, house, whatever it is. My Daddy is a carpenter, like Jesus, and with his years of experience and love, I'm sure my place will be radiant, unique, and have that special something that only a Daddy can give a kid; you know, his baby girl. 

    When we do get there, when the trumpet blows, all of our sins will be gone. Every last thing we did on this Earth, every tiny and large out-of-the-question wrong that held us back from being who we needed to be, will be destroyed.  There will be love, there will be angels singing, Seraphim with laughter. There will be Roses giving their love, blowing kisses to us, and teaching us that nothing is out of the reach of a Believer who knows Jesus.  ALL will be forgiven. We will be united with our friends, family, people we don't know, people we read about, people we thought about, people who (like us) have been waiting to be made free -- isn't it a bit ironic that the thing that sets us free also binds us for eternity? That's the love of a FATHER.

My Daddy Reuben Wayne (age 18) next to his daddy Reuben Jefferson and my uncle Billy.

Photo Credit: Grandma Stringfellow 

Odd Dream Last Night.

 So, if you want to interpret my dream and tell me what you think it means, you'll have to email me at: jude.stringfellow@gmail.com rather than leave a comment. I've turned off the comments of my blogs for obvious reasons.  I'll listen and read all of your comments that are emailed to me, but I don't want the world to see them necessarily.   Feel free to let me know your thoughts.

    Last night I dreamed and as usual, the dreams were mixed together, they could be separate, they could be combined. I never know. One seems to go into the next. I have more details from one or two than I do the last, but it is what it is. I'll try to recall all I can. Nothing makes sense, but that's the way it is in dreams.

    I saw a room where a man and a woman were seated at a small table. They were dressed in costume really, in robes and pretty clothes to mimic the person they were to honor in a few minutes. The man they were going to honor on camera, was a man who was an entertainer. He was at least a great pianist and he may have been a songwriter or more, I don't know.  I was (as an outsider) aware that this would be the last thing the man did before his death. He was to be killed there in the room (and I don't know about the others) when an explosion outside the building took place. The explosion was to be an older white Mercedes, perhaps even the entertainer's car.

    The man and woman sat down, I was observing, but not there. I could see it happening.  She was wearing a genie-type outfit, but she put a green shiny robe/cape around her shoulders. She was in her mid 40's and had dark hair. She wore a sort of crown on her forehead like Woman Woman. It wasn't Wonder Woman, but she resembled Lynda Carter in ways.  The man was nondescript and he was older. He had his back to me, I couldn't see much. They had a cake in front of them on a small table and on it was the name of the entertainer and it was something like "Giovanli".  The woman was impressed that they had gone "all-out" for it, she laughed thinking it was a bit tacky but fun. 

    The entertainer, Giovanli, walked into the room through a curtain.  They were being filmed. He was being openly polite. He was standing. He had several robes on, and this was the reason the woman had added one to her wardrobe.  It was again, to show solidarity for the entertainer.  When he turned to sit, I could see he had multiple lightweight robes and I began to count them. He had 17 robes on his body! They were thin, light-weight, and so colorful. It was beyond obvious that his thing was to wear robes and do things with them when he entertained.  That much was known to me.  

    The woman began to talk and it was mundane. I was now aware that I was in the room. I knew there was about to be an explosion, but I was not allowed to talk about it or warn anyone.  I began talking to Giovanli and telling him how very impressed I was and how appreciative I was of his work. I decided within myself that his last things to hear shouldn't be empty praise from those who didn't really love and admire him, but out of duty decided to give him a bit of recognition. Who knows, they could have lured him to his demise. That was my other thought process.  I "heard" later on that he was injured but did not die. That was good news to me.

    As I held Giovanli's hands and talked with him he listened. He was happy to know his work was important to at least one person. I assured him I was not alone in my thinking but knew these people were just paid to do their thing and move forward. They knew of him, but they were not fans and they were not even kind enough to get their facts correct for the presentation. This is what led me to think they were behind the explosion.

    I knew I had to leave and I did. I forgot my pink big purse and had to go back. Then I realized I didn't have my keys and had to go back. So annoying!! I was leaving when the explosion happened. It was terribly agonizing, time stood still, it was bright, it was hot, it was loud. I left the building and saw the white Mercedes. I couldn't figure out how the explosion of a car could be so devastating on the building if the car wasn't in or near the building. I looked for my own car. I couldn't find it. I walked the lots, and I went to the other lot. I finally saw my son driving my car. I could see he was "over there" and wearing a red OU baseball cap.  

    When I saw my son I tried to call him, but my three-inch by three-inch square telephone wouldn't work. Phones never work in dreams. I asked my daughter to call her brother. She tried, and her walnut telephone wasn't working either.  Finally, my son caught our eyes and he picked us both up. He was interviewing people to live with him, and I was not sure I wanted to hang out and do that. He was interviewing a man with a wife and two kids. My thought was that he shouldn't have a family move in with him and his wife, but it wasn't my business really to say much about it.

    That's when I woke up and I knew there were about 1000 different things to pull apart. There were colors, there were numbers, and there were symbols. I don't know all about dreams, but I do wonder sometimes why we see specific things such as the cake with the name, or the number of robes, or the fact that I had a big, fat, pink, square purse. I don't have one in my waking life.  My son does wear a red OU baseball cap, but I assure you my daughter does not use a walnut to call people. 

    An oddity is normal when we're sleeping and the fact that I didn't wake up until after 10:30 this morning is odd as well -- I never do that. Strange all around.  I know the country of IRAN had something to do with the explosion as well, but I have no idea. It could be that I read about one in Syria and I know that the Iranians are hiding their chemical weapons in Damascus - - that's about to get real. No dreams are needed, we have Isaiah 17:1 for that!

Photo Credit: Unknown, found on Pinterest

Master Numbers and Me

This one is going to be a bit different from my other blogs.  This one is more inward and spiritual, not as religious or as some have said "pious" because it deals with the inner soul, the inner spirit of my being, and the literal make-up of who I am based on a strange but interesting concept of using numbers. I don't say "numerology" because of the connotation it has with Believers as being Satanic. Believe it or not folks, Satan had nothing to do with building and creating the universe, which of course, is chock full of numbers.  God numbered every tiny thing, He alone is the Ultimate Master of numbering. We'll give God the glory on that one before we dive into it.

    Masters Numbers are numbers that carry a higher degree of potential for one or more reasons. To have a Master Number in your "life path" or in the date of your birth is said to be a unique and wonderful experience.  There are three Master Numbers and they are 11, 22, and 33.  Each number has its own set of potentially great support in (and as to why) calculating who and what the person will become who is born with the numbers in their life path or birth date.  Often times a person may be born with these numbers in their birth date but have no clue as to the potential inside of them. Other times folks come across these numbers in their lives outside of their birth dates, and they seem to figure out rather quickly that these numbers play a significant role in their lives.  Jesus was 33 when He died. 

    I was born on the 22nd day of the 11th Month in a year that you can turn upsidedown and it is still the same freaking number. How is that for being unique? I was born on 11/22/1961  (In the UK that would be 22/11/1961).  The Master Numbers are considered doubled at this point, so I really should be honing in on some of my God-given talents and traits shouldn't I? I could spend hours just going over the things I should be doing in order to think of ways to be more productive for others and to be a beacon of light for someone. That's another blog. For now, I'll look at what I'm supposed to be and what I am (in my opinion). I'll use a website or two to support my research. 

According to the internet: People who are born with the number 11 should be:

• Spiritually motivated
• Illustrators (teachers)
• Leaders
• Excel in matters of spiritual intuition
• Inspire others
• They are capable of literally making decisions instantly
• Commanding but not demanding
• Have energy long after most others fade
• They seek a higher source of wisdom
• Have greater responsibility to society
• Have deep feelings but hide their emotions
• Gifted with discernment 
• Make excellent Judges
• Listen well and respond accordingly
• Problem-solving masters
• Will experience deeper depths of low and greater heights of success

No pressure there!  Damn!  Well, OK, I'm not going to lie. I could lie, but I'm not going to. I think this is really a good list that could basically describe my personality.  I was and am diagnosed by a professional psychologist as being an ENTJ on the Meyers/Briggs charts, most of these traits fall right into that testing as well. Gee, I wonder if they have something to do with one another? That's another blog too.

    

    I was born on the 22nd of the month.  Twenty-Two is a double dose of the number 11. It is also a Master Number on its own and is double the number 2, which is a building number.  According to these charts and knowledge, I could be a carpenter I suppose. Maybe I just come up with really good structures and ideas to be built upon. I'm more of a foundations person.  Other traits and characteristics of those who have the number 22 in their birth date or life path are:

• Master building skills
• Able to see the end result before starting a project
• Turns dreaming into reality through research and goal setting
• Hardworking and expectant of all others to do the same
• Willing to sacrifice for the cause they feel is important
• Double number 11 in spiritual matters (discernment from information)
• Teamwork and team lead
• Disciplined 

OK, there you go, more of the same really, but I guess I can see a few differences. I love the number 22 more than I do the number 11. I'm happy to have been born in November, it is my favorite month, but the number 22 brings more peace to me. My daddy was born on April 22.  My son was born on March 22. My best friend Jeannie was born on June 22.  My famous dog Faith was born on December 22. My favorite music man, Maurice Gibb, was born on December 22. Interestingly, so was his twin brother Robin! (LOL)  I love the number 22 and feel a closer connection to it.

    I am a team worker, a team builder, and a team leader. I do see the end results before starting a project, and I do remember my dreams and often question myself as to whether they mean something or if I simply remember them. I am absolutely hardworking, dedicated, and disciplined. I have a greater degree of being able to discern information from bits and pieces of social postings etc, and though others may think I'm guessing, I'm not guessing. There is NO guesswork in my mind. I always hunt it down, check it out, scope what I can, and run it through the logical wringers before I make it known. I am the hardest on myself, no one needs to be so.  If I say yes, I mean yes. If I say no, you better damn well know I mean no. I don't play games when it comes to that. You'll know exactly where you stand with me whether you really wanted to know or not.

    I find numbers to be really interesting.  Some people have taken to counting letters, words, sentences, and such in the Bible to decode some really cool messages.  I am not into that so much, but I find it really cool when things "line up" as they are supposed to and in ways that the odds of them doing so are too great to be ignored.   I wasn't due to be born until 12/19/1961.  That's another interesting fact. I guess God decided this little girl needed to be born a wee bit early and in a family where I could be brought to church on the 4th day of my life. I was born on a Wednesday and in church on Sunday. That may surprise most, but not my family.  I will never give a smidge of praise to anything or any other than to God (or Jesus) for the greater goodness and compassion He has shown me throughout my life. I don't need to seek a Higher Power, He has always been there. 

    

    Maybe all the Masters Numbers do is bring us to an awareness of how we should be. It is said also that those who have Master Numbers in their birth dates will experience greater lows and higher heights. I can attest to some of that. I've been privileged and hurt. I've been broken and mended. I can say with utter truth in my breath that I don't worry about anything. I literally give it all to God. Initially, I may falter, but when I settle down I realize I'm not the one who makes the pieces, the numbers, or anything else fall into place.  To God be the Glory. GREAT things, He has done.

Photo Credit: Numerology.com

Love and Ruin

 My eyes see things, my mind knows things, my ears hear things, and yes, my heart can feel things. We all have the same equipment to use and work with when it comes to being loved and loving others. We know what we should do, we know what we should say, but do we do it? I can honestly say that I'm finally at that point where I can say I can be honest and I can be open and I can be who I really am. I don't have to worry about lying to someone to impress them. I don't have to lie to someone to hide anything that I wouldn't want them to know about me. Part of the freedom of being single and staying that way is that I choose who I spend time with and if I simply don't want to be with someone I'll be upfront and say so. I'm not rude about it, and I'm certainly not overtly sweet about my exit either. I'll make it as cordial as I can, but I'm not about to spend time that I can't get back or feel I've not made the right investment. Sorry, we just don't have time to waste these days. 

    I watch people. If you know me you know that. I listen to people. I literally set myself down and listen, watch, observe, and sometimes I put myself there on purpose so I can hear, see, think, and feel about it. I do it because I'm (sometimes) paid to do it. I do it because it's a very cheap form of entertainment; albeit you never know if you're going to find yourself viewing a romantic comedy, a drama, or God forbid, a horror show! People are the worst; people need to learn a few lessons from animals, that's all I can say about that. Horses are rather blunt and upfront about things, but in the end, they usually settle down and can easily share a pasture as long as they understand the rules, and who is in charge.  I've seen men and women who are supposed to be IN LOVE and who are supposed to be one another's FOREVER mate, treat one another with such disdain and with such hatred, you'd think they were born mortal enemies!

    I know I go back to it over and over again, but vows are actually promises. Marriages don't have to be and probably shouldn't be, based on being in love with one another. A marriage is actually a contract, but people seem to forget that part of it. They have this notion that you meet, you date, you jump in bed, you exchange secrets, you push each other's buttons, and you introduce one another to the families. Then after a certain amount of time you decide if you should stick it out or try to start the process over again. Love is good, it's a good thing to have, but love starts with respecting one another and it's just really hard to achieve that when you jump through the hoops and skip over the process that God had in mind for two people who are and/or will be spending their lives together.  People don't even consult God on this matter for the most part, and well, it shows!

    Before we get too far into it, I have to confess that I am as guilty as anyone else who jumped the gun and forced a situation in order to please the family, keep up with the Jones, and all that. I got married because it was "time" to get married. I got married because I thought I "needed him" not because I loved him. No, there really wasn't any love to be had, but then again, LOVE isn't always the emotion we need to rely on when it comes to being compatible. Love will happen if respect and trust are given and earned. Love is a result and a product if you will, of trust and respect.  Waiting on God would have been such a better answer for me and yes, I can say with absolute certainty, that it is the best answer for anyone and everyone. 

    Today, while watching, I overheard a woman say to her spouse, her soon (very soon) to be former spouse that she was going to see to it that he was ruined. She was going to make it her life's duty and ambition to see him fail. She was going to take everything she could, everything he had, expose his every dark secret, and she hoped before God that he was punished and hurt worse than he could ever imagine.  I don't know if I breathed a really heavy sigh and she saw me, but she turned to me and she screamed at me as if I was a part of their conversation. To be honest, I was there first. I was sitting in that spot for at least fifteen minutes before she and her Mr. came out of the store and began or picked up their latest argument. 

    She was going to ruin him. She was going to see to it that she made it her life's ambition to see him ruined. Is this the same woman he held in his arms at night back whenever? Is this the same man who promised to cherish, love, honor, to forsake all others for her? Is this the way it's supposed to end? Absolutely not.  Something, and maybe a few somethings happened! No one wakes up and declares that their life will not be complete until they see their spouse felled and utterly destroyed without there being at least a few incidents that led up to the falling. Can someone please explain to the world that we really do have choices? We can either listen to God and do what He wants or we can fight and claw our ways out of situation after situation after situation. It doesn't have to be a bad marriage, it can be a job, it can be the way we go through relationships like water, it can be that we continue to use alcohol, drugs, weed, sex, or whatever, but in the end, isn't it the same? We aren't doing what we KNOW to do (I'm talking to Christians at this point. We can't expect non-believers to behave as believers.)

    Does it sound really churchy of me to say we need to listen to God? Well, I guess then we best be gettin' ourselves back to the church!  How's that sin working out for you? How is that failed relationship coming along? How is that repeated trip back to rehab doing? Is it working? Are you getting all you need out it?  Professional help is great when you take the information and apply it to the rest of your life without using it as a crutch to cling to. It's supposed to prepare you to walk on your own. I suggest you walk with God and let Him direct your steps. He did promise that He would if you asked! Take Him up on that! He's got a really good track record for telling the Truth and you know - - being the Truth.

    Love never fails. Where there is money, status, pride, sin, and lies, they are going to fail. You can bet your last hard-earned dollar on that one. You will be ruined either by your own actions or the actions of someone else who is bent on seeing you face down in the dirt for whatever it was he or she thought you should have been, said or done. God isn't like that. You know, I heard something just the other day that really hit hard -- a lie doesn't want to be challenged, but the truth doesn't mind it at all, in fact, the truth asks you to challenge it - - to prove its value. We run from what we know we are doing wrong, and we stand by what we know we're doing right. Let your yes be yes, and your no be no. It's good advice.  

    Wait on God. He will bring the right spouse if there is one. Wait on God. He will bring the right position if there is one to be had. Pray, ask through Christ, and let it go. There's absolutely no reason to become anxious, scared, or nervous. If He says YES, He says yes. If He says NO, He says No. If He asks you to WAIT, the answer is always going to be YES. He'd never ask you to wait to be told No. That's the beauty of it right there. We KNOW when the answer is NO, we don't have to wait to be told. We push, we pull, we prod, we force - - but the answer was NO and it will never be YES if it is NO. I think we all need to get a little of that in us from time to time. I'm absolutely including myself in that one.  I say it all the time; Psalms 37:4-5 is still in the Book.  No one has EVER taken it out, and no one ever will.  "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your ways to Him, and HE will bring it to pass."   The best part about it is, He can't fail. Ever.

Photo Credit: Keith McGivern

    

I Met a Former Prisoner Today.

 Though he never said he was recently released from prison, I met a man today that left little doubt that he had been incarcerated for maybe twenty to twenty-five years. He wasn't rude, mean, nasty, or in any way showing himself to have been an ex-con, but it was more in the way he asked questions, listened, and nodded his head when I answered. He was genuinely interested in the answer to the (several) questions that he had.  I'll try to explain it as best I can; it was a rather interesting exchange.

    The man wasn't flirting with me. If he had been, I would have walked in the opposite direction. He was curious about literally everything in the store. It was as if he hadn't been in Winco before. He looked out of place in other ways too. He watched people. He moved slowly around them, not to get too close to them, and he always listened before he spoke. He didn't want to impose or offend. He wanted to ask specific questions, but I could tell he had a few to ask.  It wasn't as if his wife had done all the shopping in the past. It was as if he hadn't seen a produce section of a store in a very long time. He was noticing the choices, the prices, and the way the bags are in rolls without ties, and he mentioned that he hasn't been shopping "in a while".  I took that to mean a long long while.

    My friend and I went to the grocery store today and we were in the produce aisle. People always, and I do mean always, stop me and ask me questions about food when I'm in the store. I don't work there, I don't have on an apron or a badge that states I work there.  While looking over the wonderfully ripe and unripe avocadoes, a man (from out of nowhere) asked me how I use or fix avocadoes. He was only familiar with eating them in guacamole.  I told him I cut them up to put on sandwiches, I put half of one in a smoothie in the mornings, and I often just cut them up as part of a  party tray to serve with chunks of cheese, and olives, crackers, etc. He all but stared at me.

    The man couldn't believe avocadoes could be used in smoothies. He then wanted to know what all goes into a smoothie. He wanted to know the benefits of them, he had been hearing about them and saw them on sale at places like Starbucks, Scooters, and Tropical Sun, but he said he had never actually had one. He wanted to know everything he could about them. I decided to answer him and to spend a bit of time with him because it was absolutely obvious to me that this man hadn't been inside a grocery store in years. If he hadn't been inside a store, he probably hadn't been anywhere else but maybe a prison cell.  I never got actual confirmation on that, but his white tucked-in tee-shirt, belted waist, and Dickie trousers told me that he was a bit old school. 

    When I saw him again pondering over the bulk section as if he had literally stumbled into Narnia, I asked if he needed help. He definitely needed a great deal of help. He was so surprised, so overwhelmed really by the choices before him. He couldn't figure out why someone would want to scoop out a bunch of raisins when they could buy them packaged already in nice little boxes.  I explained to him that the nice little packaged boxes came with a cost and advertising. These bulk raisins are just as good, but literally half the cost. Again, he couldn't stop staring. He just couldn't believe his own ears.

    I showed him what I was getting, and explained why I was getting everything that I bought. I make my own trail mix. He had never seen Oregan hazelnuts before, and he never knew peanuts came salted, unsalted, roasted, raw, and with chili.  So many choices. I showed him where the little containers are that can be reused. I showed him where the Sharpee pens are, and the tape I use to label my containers, and I showed him the cost difference not only on the raisins, but also oatmeal, flour, Stevia, and chocolate chips; and his favorite, the spaghetti.  A one-pound pack of regular spaghetti was about $1.99 whereas he could get the same amount for $.87 in bulk. He was sold.  He was flat-out amazed, and he was now a bulk fan. 

    I can't always go to prisons and minister. I can't sit down with the homeless in the streets and talk. I can't put myself in an unsafe environment even if I want to witness and talk about Jesus; it's just not safe.  However, in the bulk and produce sections of Winco today, I was able to help a man who I feel had been kept away from society for many years. When I told him to "be blessed", he said he was. He smiled and said "I am. I truly am."  I then said something I say to just about anyone who will listen. I said, "Jesus is coming back, and none of this will matter."  He smiled and said "Amen. I wish it was today."  Me too buddy, me too!

    If you make yourself available God will bring you His sheep to tend to. Just keep in mind you are one too.

Photo Credit: Healthline.com

My Opinion on People Who Love Black Licorice.

 Well, according to the all-knowing internet:  People who like black licorice, "Black licorice fans consider themselves more wild and crazy. They like spontaneity and the thrill of adventure and are more likely to be outspoken, freely share their opinions with others, and often feel as though they're going a million miles an hour."  www.licoriceinternational.com. Do I agree? I don't know, I think yeah, I'm rather wild and crazy at times, but I think also there is something to be said about those of us who like the odd-tasting things in life, and or those of us who don't like the taste of sweet sugar in our tea! Ewww...and I'm from the South!

    Black licorice lovers are apt to be brave, outspoken, and energetic, even to the point of being annoying at times. People often think that people who eat black licorice only claim to like it, but secretly only have the ability to stomach it so as to appear to be tougher, meaner, badder, and able to face more conflict. That's another sort of pseudo quote from an unremebered source. I was thinking about this months ago and had a conversation with a former colleague, and they read it somewhere. It's unofficial at best.  Take that with salt or any other seasoning you prefer.

    I think it's funny that someone will even ask me if I like black licorice or red licorice as if I can't like them both. I love them both. They both have their place in my life, and in my heart. I will eat both, and though it may depend on my mood as to which I prefer, I am usually truly loyal to the sticky-tar-like mass of candy (can we call it a candy?) if given a choice to take one or the other. I am a fan of Good and Plenty over the standard basic licorice pieces. I can tell you that. I do like the candy-coated pink and white pill-shaped pieces. They sell those in bulk at Winco. Yes, I do know this, and yes, I do shop this. 

    As far as I can tell, there are two types of people in this world. There are those who love black licorice and those who hate it. You really don't find many who are indifferent to it. I find that people make faces, turn their nose to it, and say nasty things about it, or they simply smile with their hand out. I'm of the ilk to ask for more; I even like NyQuil, which as you may or may not realize, has the flavoring of black licorice or anise in it to mask the medicine taste.  I think we're just a bit odd or different perhaps. The Licorice International folks did a study back in the day and found that only 3% of the surveyed thousands claimed to like black licorice as a kid and that they still like it.  One commenter said only folks over the age of 80 like it, that's not true.

    Growing up I remember very clearly that my mom not only hated it, she told us we hated it, too. I didn't hate it. I loved it. I had this sort of argument going on about it from time to time. She also said Dr. Pepper was made out of prunes. She was either lying to us intentionally or just repeating what others had said about it. Either way, I remember thinking I don't only like black licorice, I wanted it when I saw it, I bought it when I could, and I never had to worry about sharing it - - though you know I always asked. I was raised that way. (you might say I rather enjoyed that cordial chore because I knew their response usually, and it made me smile every time.)  At least I asked!

Photo Credit: Swanson Vitamins

    

Plans Change So Quickly!

 Like the freaking Stock Market, my life has its ups and downs. We call that Day Trading!  I am learning and practicing the high and wonderful traits and skills needed to be both a Day Trader and a Swing Trader. The difference really is time, patience, due diligence, and discipline.  For Day Trading you don't really care too much about the longevity of price, you're more about getting in, either selling or buying, getting out of the market, so you can enter again if the market shifts to the other side. In Swing Trading, you do care. You plan longer, take less risk, take more information (technical and analytical) into consideration, and you wait - - and wait - - and then you wait more.  Day Trading has its perks, nearly instant gratification, but it has its downside as well.  You may lose. We call that "learning" rather than losing. You never really lose, you learn not to fail.

    My life is like one big market right now. I was up, and now I'm down again. I'm about to go into consolidation and change the mode from day-to-day living to more of a strategy using a great deal more technical and analytical research and preparation. I'm about to take the summer off to learn more about Forex Trading and how I can make it my actual profession. This means I have to actually stop working in genuine and live off savings (etc) while I train.  It's not necessarily the best plan, but it is A PLAN.

    I've always said (well, for several years now) that I can only work for myself. EVERY last time I go to work for someone else either as a teacher, an analyst, an investigator, a consultant, or even a legal assistant (and believe me, I have many years behind me in these fields) I find myself out of a job within weeks, or sometimes months. It just breaks me that these employers will hire me, use me to catch them up or get them to a place where they can fly again, and then they release me. It's got to do with my salary requirement; that's all I can think of. Otherwise, I'd still be employed. NOPE. I'm flying solo!!

    Well, for the Summer of 2022 I think it may be best to sit back, relax, do the thing(s) I really want to do, and learn Forex both in and out, up and down, Bull and Bear, Swing and Day Trading. I have my demo account up and running. I've been working it, and I've been doing well on it, so now it's time to strike out and do the real deal but only using pennies, not dollars, until such time I know and can guarantee myself that I know what I'm doing. I won't be satisfied with a 65% win ratio. I want 70% even if the wins are lower than some of the numbers my scalper friends are proudly boasting. I'll get there, but I strongly (VERY STRONGLY) believe in trading the plan, not the emotion. I won't get caught in that rattle. (Yes, I stole that line - - sue me)

    For the next 8-12 weeks I'll live off the savings and study day and night, work the numbers, watch the charts, find the pairs that I think will work for me, and I'll shift the process from demo to reality trading so that I can begin to accumulate actual funding.  By October I should be working it in a more productive manner, and by April I should have enough funds in the account to both move to Scotland on a more permanent basis (9 months out of 12) and travel the other 3 months both in Europe and back to the States so I can satisfy any needed VISA issues. 

    For now, it is a plan. I know my plans have plans. My thinking isn't thinking unless it's overthinking and coming up with any and every scenario possible. I can do this. It will take a minute, but what a fun way to plan my next chapter.  As for that VISA thing; not a problem. I can go the first 6 months without one, the next will be on a research VISA for my book(s) and then a hop back and forth every 6 months for a month keeps the balls in the air as far as that goes - - it's a game, but one worth playing.

Photo Credit: Financial IT

Muscle v. Fat (It's REAL)

 I can't even begin to tell you how hurt and upset I was when I stood on the scale the other day and saw the number that represents the amount of weight I weigh in pounds! I'm going to start referring to my weight in either Kg or in stones because it really is so much lower than the number I saw; the number that was burned into my brain! AGONY!  Oh my goodness, I was upset. I actually sat on the bed crying and I was mostly upset about it because I had been (and have been) both really careful on my intake of calories and the output of energy through walking, dancing, riding my bike, boxing, you name it, I do it - - I jump rope, I climb, hike, ride horses too. About the only thing I can't do is run or jog because of my right knee being so useless, but there I was in absolute disgrace and tears after stepping from the scales. How could that be true?  I'll tell you how it's true. Muscle weighs so much more than fat.

    I know people say that, they say muscle weighs more than fat, but I thought really they were just saying that to make their friends feel better when they were asking "Do I look fat in these jeans?" You know, it was something or is something people say to be nice really, not making a show of the fact that they really wanted to say "You could stand to put the ice cream bar down and pick up a dumbbell every now and again." The problem with that would be that I've given up the ice cream and I've been working out so I don't get it!!  Now, I get it.

    After researching it for real, and then going back over it again, I can tell you with both confidence and authority that muscle really does weigh more than fat!  You can't say a pound of muscle is the same as a pound of fat without realizing that the measure you mentioned is the same...it's a POUND. A pound of feathers weighs the same as a pound of lead. A pound is a pound is a pound.  A cup of fat however weighs so much less than a cup of dense muscle. I just didn't realize how much more muscle actually weighed until I sat my dermatologist down and asked her to dig out her college manuals to show me! It didn't do her any good to try and convince me with her head knowledge. She's incredibly smart, but I wanted to see it in writing! Something about it being in print made it more real I suppose.  There it was!! 

    Basically, the example given in the textbook was that two people of the same sex could be the same height and weight but one could wear a dress size or jean size much larger than the other due to the fluffy fat content of their body.  The more fit person, whose muscles are dense and compact, would and could wear clothes that are much smaller. The example was that of two women both 45 years of age, standing 5'5" and weighing 150 pounds.  One woman wore a size 14 dress and the other wore a size 6 dress. WOW...that makes so much more sense now, and I had to pack away the tissue because I'm no longer crying about it. I am also no longer wearing a size 18 dress or jeans. I'm wearing a size 12 and on my way to wearing a size 10. I weigh more now than I did a year ago, a lot more. I weigh 14 pounds more, an entire stone more than I did a year ago. I thought it was supposed to go down to my "goal weight" but it didn't. I'm on my way to my goal size instead.

    When all is said and done, maybe in about 3 months or so, I will be in my size 8 jeans if I can find a way to get rid of the belly fat.  The hardest part of the entire body transformation is this belly! I'm doing literally everything I can to reduce it. I'm doing aerobic training, I'm taking raspberry ketones, I'm drinking green tea, using all the right methods - - it's coming off but so so so slowly. I may end up resorting to having surgery to get rid of the visceral fat I can't control or shed. I have been battling this for years and it may be time to call in the professionals. I'm doing all I can before that happens, but I won't let it stand in my way of meeting my personal goals.  NOPE.

    I did notice that I'm lifting weights while I watch YouTube videos. That's something I never did before. I am also walking upward and over 7 miles a day for the most part. I always do 5.5 miles, but I push for the last 1.5 if I can.  I used to be really happy with 3 miles a day. Now I think that's slacking off and I get that before noon. When you're working toward a goal you put in the work or you don't. It's either yes or no. To not do it to the fullest is to say no. It's do or don't do for me. You don't have to be this way, it's just me, but that's the way I've always been. Yoda and I see things the same way. Do or don't do, there is no try.

    OK that's about it for now, I'm about 30 minutes behind in my walking today but there was a huge rain storm, so there's that. Usually, when that happens I go to the store to walk, but we couldn't get out of the driveway to even do that!! Oh well, it is what it is. There's always another way to get the body moving. I can dance!  My poor neighbors. They know when I'm up here working out and punching the bag and they know when I'm dancing. At least I'm smiling when we pass each other in the commons!!

Photo Credit:  Real Mentor