Sunday, February 27

THOUGHTS FOR TODAY

Today is Sunday for most people but for me it is Saturday. Tomorrow is Sunday. You see, my Thursday is Friday for most people. Yet in my innards I feel that Thursday really is Friday as it is for everyone else but then I know it is more like Thursday once again. It really becomes confusing some time. You see my husband works 5 days a week and gets two days off for the weekend. Well his weekends are your Sundays and Mondays. So I become split. I would like to celebrate Friday nights like everyone else, but my husband has to work on Saturdays so I have to wait to celebrate anything. Then on Mondays when everyone else is going back to work, he is still home and I get very confused. Mind you my weeks seem very short - Tues to Fri.

O.k. enough of that. Today was a pretty good day. I had darling daughter number 2 visit me and darling daughter number 1 sign a comment on my blog. Wooo hooo. A day with both daughters involved in some small way. Darling daughter number 2 lives down the street from me and yet I only see her about once a month in winter (if that) Darling daughter number 1 lives in the city and I only see her when I go to the city or the odd weekend in the summer. She isn't much into emailing either but does call more often than number 2 which lives down the street.

My girls are very different than I was when I got married. I spent a lot of time at my parents house after I first got married. We were there night after night as we never knew what to do, yet we knew we didn't want to just sit around at home in our apartment. So off to mom and dad's we'd go. After all, I grew up with lots of sisters so I had a lot of friends (sort of) We were all very close and I missed the gang I guess.

We would manage to go to mom and dad's around supper time in those days as we hardly had any money and couldn't afford a lot of food. Mom always had plenty. I remember we would buy 10 cans of vegetable soup for $1.00 and 10 cans of tomatoe soup for $1.00. All our crackers and cookies were free as my Father-in-law worked at a biscuit company. That was our groceries for a week or more.

Anyway, I began talking about my girls and my day. I thought when I grew up I would have lots of kids visiting me in my old age. I tried for more but only ended up with two. I also thought I would have grandchildren visiting me but that is not the case either. So I rely on my two girls to visit and keep us company in our old age. NOT HAPPENING! (Here is a mother laying a guilt trip on her daughter in case you don't recognize it. Hee Hee.) Can I help it if I love my daughters so much that I enjoy their company?

I know they are both busy with their own lives and I don't regret that. I'm glad I taught them to be independent and self reliant. It is just that a mother likes to hear from her kids every now and then. That's why hearing from both of them today was special to me. Thanks girls for taking time out of your busy lives to acknowlege me today. I really appreciated it. I love you both (and know that they probably aren't reading this anyway).

Anyone and I meant anyone else reading this - give your mom a call today. I'm sure she will appreciate it. If you can't call, send her a little note just telling her you are thinking of her. Don't wait for mother's day - surprise her.

Saturday, February 26

MOSTLY MY ADDICTIONS

Top o-the day to ye.
I thought I'd be a little Irish since it is the next closest holiday.

I sit here bored out of my head wondering what should I write. There's a world of topics and yet I sit wondering - what do others want to hear me write about? I feel inadequate for the job. But what the heck, I started this blog more as a journal than as a soap box for my rants and raves (even though that is why I said I started this blog) - So call me a liar, why don't you? So hear I sit between a rock and a hard place. Well not really, I am sitting at my desk in the middle of the messiest house on earth. You see, my boredom is self imposed. It is not that I don't have things to do - I have tons and tons of things to do - I just don't FEEL like doing them.

"Feeeelings, woe woe woe feeeeelings...." They sure can get you into a load of trouble? I am a person who tends to live on feelings. I was diagnosed with clinical depression when very young and my whole life has been about feelings. To top it off, I also suffer from S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder) so come winter, I am a total basket case. I sleep, sleep, and sleep some more. When I'm not sleeping I am dreaming of sleeping. Oh, it is so good to crawl up into bed and put those nice warm quilts around you and just nod off into slumber land and forget about everything around you for a few hours.

Then I wake up and look around. UUUGH. The dishes aren't done, the floors are nearly black, vacuuming hasn't been done. Clothes are piled high and beginning to reek. Dust bunnies have invaded the house and I am surrounded. So rather than fight - I surrender to my little corner and blog. After all, there are people waiting to read me and it's the only excuse I can come up with right now.

When I am not blogging, I am crafting. I have artistic juices that flow and flow so I am always coming up with something to craft. If I can't come up with something on my own, I look through the internet to get ideas. Then I am gung ho into whatever it is I find to do.

Bye the way, did I mention I have a compulsive addictive behaviour? I never realized how bad it was until just a few years ago. I started looking back on my life and saw how I was into so many things for short spurts and then would change to something else. This one summer I thought "Wow, I haven't been into any crafts or anything this year, I think I am finally o.k." Then I looked outside and saw all the lawn ornaments I had bought or made that year. I had just moved my compulsive addiction outside that year.

Well, it is back inside and I am busy sewing, crafting, blogging, printing, painting, collecting, knitting, embroidery, scrapbooking, eating, playing computer games, reading, sleeping, anything but housework. Why, oh why, oh why, can't I get compulsive addictive about my housework? Just imagine a nice clean sparkling house. I'd love to have it but not able to do it. I wish I could afford a maid. Maybe I could get one and pay her off in crafts and clutter. I have plenty of that. Anyone interested?

While I am dreaming, what about a cook as well. Someone who could cook HEALTHY meals for my husband and I so we wouldn't be sitting hear slowing dying from heart problems. I know, that is part of the problem - sitting. We should be out doing things and exercising. Another thing I can't get addictive compulsive over, especially not in winter.

Speaking of dreaming, I would like a nice organized craft room where everything had a place. Then maybe I would feel more like cleaning. Now when I want to craft, everything ends up on the kitchen table, the island, the tables beside my chair (for the handiwork/TV items) and around the sewing machine in the living room. When people come over, I have to try to clear a space for them. When I put everything away, it takes so much time to gather everything from all the hidden nooks and crannies around the house that I end up putting off the crafting and just sit at the puter being bored. I have a spare room I could turn into a craft room, but no one to help me with it and no money to buy storage containers and the items I need to construct cupboards or shelving.

Having said all the above, I think it is time to turn to those amazing quilts again. Mmmm warmth and bliss of slumber. Till next time.

Friday, February 25

MY BEST FRIEND - TILLY



Yesterday I shared about some special people in my life and I kept the Very Best till last. Tilly.

My relationship with Tilly began slowly at first. Both of us were ‘on guard’, afraid of what the other might say or do. Tilly could sense I wasn’t really interested in pursuing a relationship yet something kept pushing her to seek me out. It didn’t take long before I was looking forward to our weekly visits and going out for lunch. During those lunches our friendship began to grow and blossom. (God definitely had a hand in it.)

It was during those lunches that I learned so much about Tilly. She began to slowly open her heart to me. A little here a little there. Just little peeks at first. I learned that she is a survivor of physical, mental, spiritual and sexual abuse. This woman has been through it all and still SURVIVES. Her story is unbelievable in itself. That someone could go through what this woman has gone through and still turn out to be the kind of woman she is - is truly remarkable and a miracle.

Her greatest strength (or vulnerability) is her compassion. She feels very deeply for those that are sick or in need of assistance. She is a care giver and has two special needs women that she has nurtured for the past 14 years. It is this same compassion that becomes a vulnerability when she thinks she has upset you or made you angry with her or let you down in some way.

She is very insightful when it comes to people. She can read them like a book. Little things we take for granted, she really sees. She sees past the masks and the words and looks deep within your soul. She doesn’t want you to cover it up, but to only be who and what you really are. You can dare to be yourself with her and she will love you all the more. This grace she will not allow herself though.

Tilly has taught me that it is o.k. to be myself. Even if I am full of weirdness - she still loves me. To me that is one of the greatest gifts I ever received. I am a person that has had a hard time feeling any kind of love in my life. I always thought I had to be a certain way, or do certain things before people would love me.

Being with Tilly, I feel like I have been set free. She understands the deep down nitty gritty of what I try to say where others seem to misunderstand me. She is looking past what is being said and seeing the heart and the real meaning behind it. She has taught me to look deep within myself and find out so many things I never knew.

You can tell her about your ego trips, self-importance, envies, hates, bitchy outbursts, your meanness and craziness and, in opening them up to her, they are accepted then dismissed and safe in the arms of her loyalty. With Tilly you just know that she would never breathe a word to another soul.

She has a great sense of humour. She is a great poem and song writer. She’s already had two of her songs played on the radio. There is so much more to Tilly but space and time don’t allow it.

Tilly understands me. I can weep with her, laugh with her, pray with her. Through it all - and underneath - she sees, knows and loves me and I love her.

I love her with all that is in me to love. She is MY BEST FRIEND and I thank God for bringing us together.

Thursday, February 24

SPECIAL PEOPLE WHO TOUCHED MY LIFE

I thought I would blog in the evenings as my blogs would be more upbeat then, as I am more of an evening person. Well all day yesterday, all I thought about was "What should I blog?" It weighed heavily on me. Today I decided to just jump in and let my mind wander. If anyone finds it out there, please send it back home as I can’t live too long without it.

I’d like to mention a few people in today’s blog. These are special people.

The first I want to mention is my Aunt Joyce. Over the years I spent a lot of time at her place out in the country with my cousins. I used to go to Vacation Bible School with her daughters and I loved those times. She was one of the "NICE" aunts that didn’t force me to eat food I didn’t like. She lived right next door to another Aunt and also my Grandparents, yet I spent more time there than at the other two places.

I was (and am) a very picky eater. Aunt Joyce used to worry that I would starve to death at her place. One day she introduced me to Cheerios. I loved them and finished off the box. I guess she was so glad to find something I liked that she sent me to the store to buy another box and told me I could eat all I wanted. She doesn’t know what a treat that was to me.

I have loads of Aunts and Uncles (at least 44) and of all of them, Aunt Joyce is the one that still keeps in touch with me. Before she had a computer she would call the odd time to wish me a happy birthday or something. Now she has the puter, she drops me a line every once in awhile.

Aunty Joyce, I want to publically thank you for all the times I was allowed to stay with you. Thankyou. Thank you for introducing me to cheerios. Thank you for allowing me to attend Vacation Bible School and thank you for keeping in touch wth me now. I love you Aunty Joyce.

The next person I want to mention is a girl I met in grade 7. Her name is Diane. When we first met each other we both thought the other one was a snob because we were both so shy and didn’t know what to say to each other. We sat next to each other in class and before long we had a best friendship going on - during school hours only. It lasted all the way to grade 11 and a little beyond. She got married, I got married and we separated our ways.

Every year on my birthday or Christmas I get a card in the mail from Diane. She has kept in touch with me over all these years. She phones a few times a year and we yack for hours. She has always been the one to pursuit this friendship. I never send her cards or call her, yet she has remained faithful to our friendship. She is a very special lady. I love her dearly and thank her.

Now, I have saved the VERY BEST for last. Not because she deserves last place, but because there is so much to say about her.

I met Tilly at a church we had been attending in the city. She seemed like a nice woman that I might like to get to know. We saw her and her husband on occasion but it was just a general type of friendship at that time. Then they moved out of town and I remember saying "Oh, I am so glad we never became good friends as all my friends seem to move away."

A little background history: I had a hard time making friends to begin with and when I did, I would go gung ho into the relationship. I would give it my all. Then either the friend would move or we would move. Over the years I had been ‘burned’ quite a bit by this so I got to the point where I didn’t open myself up much to people at all. I didn’t want to be hurt again. Yet, I remember praying night after night that God would give me a "Best Friend".

Back to Tilly. One day Tilly was in the city and decided to come to my place and check out if I wanted to go to lunch. I was caught off guard and couldn’t really come up with an excuse not to go, so I went. About a week later, the same thing happened. Then the next week and the next and the next etc. Tilly kept pursuing me. Later I found out, it was not in her nature to do such a thing yet something kept her coming after me.

I have much more to say about Tilly but you will have to wait till my next installment.

Wednesday, February 23

BEST BLOG EVER...


Have you ever stopped to think How Fearfully and wonderfully God has made You? A person of average size performs the following functions each day:

  • Your heart beats 103,689 times. (it is a pump and irrigation system)
  • You breathe 23,040 times. (Your lungs are an air conditioning system)
  • You inhale 438 cub. feet of air.
  • You eat between 3 and 4 pounds of food, drink 3 quarts of liquids, and perspire about 2 pints.
  • Your body maintains a steady temperature of 98.6 degrees under all weather conditions.
  • You generate 450 tons of energy.
  • Your brain is a computer system.
  • You speak 4,800 words (Men only).
  • You move and use over 700 muscles, use 7,000 brain cells, and walk 7 miles (women only, in the home - not men, they ride).
  • Your nerves are a telegraph and alarm system.
  • Your skin and sweat glands are ventilation systems.
  • Your cells are a renewal system.
  • Your kidneys, bladder, intestines are a disposal system.
  • And you have a built in Electrical generating system.

No wonder you are tired at the end of a day.

You are a unique person. No one has ever done the things that you have done. No one has ever thought the things that you have thought. No one has ever felt the things that you have felt. No one can duplicate you. We did not happen by accident. God made you and he cares about every area of your life. "Even the very hairs of your head are all numbered". (Matthew 10:30)

Don't you think that God - who has made you so wonderfully complex - is able to care for you each and every moment of each day? Trust Him with your life. He will not disappoint you.

THE MIRACLE OF THE UNBORN

(Not sure who wrote this original article. If anyone knows the original author please let me know so I can give proper credit where credit is due.)

In a comprehensive and remarkable article in the January 11, 1982 issue of Newsweek, are included pictures of the unborn. The article says, "At conception, out of the hundreds of millions of sperm that swim to the waiting egg, only one manages to penetrate. It releases digestive enzymes, eating its way into the egg, and alters the egg's surface so that no other sperm can follow. The sperm merges its genes with the egg's. Somehow - scientists don't know exactly how - that union creates a new life."
The cells, all descendants of the same fertilized egg and containing the same genes develop, some into heart cells, some become kidneys, some round into blood cells, and others branch into nerves.
At three weeks, the heart begins to beat and the brain develops. After eight weeks, almost all of the internal organs are in place; the embryo is scarcely an inch long...yet 95% of the known structures are there. Scientists aren't sure what makes cells stop moving once they get to the right place - they are very selective about the company they keep, aggregating only with similar cells so that organs can form properly. Even when biologists mix different kinds of cells in a culture, they sort out, liver cells clumping with liver cells, brain with brain, and kidney with kidney...making patterns - arms, legs, organs -requiring cells to coordinate their movements as precisely as a marching band. And scientists don't know what causes the cells to stop multiplying once the correct size of a finger or hand has been reached.
Did not the Psalmist David say it best: "I am fearfully and wonderfully made." (Psalm 139:14)? It takes a whole lot less faith to believe God is our Creator, than to believe in evolution.
If God in all His wisdom was so careful about the creating of the human body and all its intricacies, doesn't it make alot of sense that He created you for a purpose? That you are important to Him? That He didn't make a mistake when He made you? Think about it.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body, and knit them together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! It is amazing to think about. Your workmanship is marvellous - and how well I know it. You were there while I was being formed in utter seclusion! You saw me before I was born and scheduled each day of my life before I began to breathe. Every day was recorded in your book! (Psalm 139:13-16 Living Bible.)

Stay Tuned

Stay tuned for the BEST BLOG EVER later tonight.

Tuesday, February 22

WERE YOU FIRST BORN?

Today I'd like to talk on being the first born. The Title of my blog is 1 of 6 because I was the first born of six girls to one family.

Firsts are always exciting. Like your first date, first kiss, first car, first home, etc. So you grow up thinking, wow, I am first, I must be special. This is further enhanced through out your early life. Whenever there was an extra job to do, you were asked to do it because "You are older." When there was a debate over that extra candy, you were told to give it to the younger child, why? Because "You are older." You grow up thinking "Hey, there must be some payoffs someday, - because - you are older. - otherwise, what is all the fuss about?

The babies come and you have to help with them because you are older. Changing diapers, feeding, babysitting, all in the name of being older. You feel like their second mom cause you spend so much time caring and loving them. They grow up and still you are a part of their lives. You help them with school work, you counsel them on boyfriends, you try to help them with the little knowledge you've learned along the way, all because you love them and they are so much a part of your life - and - you are the oldest. They end up having kids of their own and you help them with those kids as well. Their kids end up feeling like your grand kids as you have invested so much time in their lives.

But somewhere in all of this, reality hits. You are NOT their mom, you are NOT their grandmother, you are nothing more than a SISTER. You are no better or worse than any of the other five sisters. Yet for some strange reasoning, I feel cheated. Why?

Do you think that any of the others in line has put any emphasis on their placement in the family? The answer is I don't think so. So why does this older child do it? Maybe it is just me. I'd really like to know how others feel about this.

Believe me, I am not an attention seeking person. It is not that I want special attention or anything like that. As a matter of fact, I like hiding in the background and not being noticed. I have had a very close relationship with each of my sisters at some time or other. We have been best friends more than sisters. Yet, in the whole scheme of things, I feel cheated somehow. I feel like I've had my birthright stolen from me. I did not give it up, it was stolen and I don't know by who or how. It is just a feeling that doesn't want to go away. It is so weird.

In the bible, being first born was a badge of honour. The male who opened the matrix had the honour. Well I am female - maybe that has something to do with it. What is it that I expect from being first born? Nothing really that I can put my finger on. Do I want special recognition? - no. Do I want money? - no - not anymore than anyone else anyway. Do I want something special to happen? - no. I guess what I want most is someone else to say they feel the same way and I am not crazy for feeling this way. To know that it is a common feeling among oldest born children.

Another thing about being first born that I have noticed through out my years. It seems a common thing that the oldest born of the family ends up marrying the youngest born (or near youngest) of another family. Wonder why that is? My dad (oldest born boy) married my mother (youngest born girl). My husband is the baby of his family while I am the oldest of mine. Many many people I have met over the years tell me the same thing.

All comments will be welcomed. Please let me know that I am not alone in feeling as I do.

Monday, February 21

Shape up or ship out

O.k. so real people from this world are reading this. I guess I better shape up then and write some really meaty gritty stuff (There's that word again) Problem is, I haven't taken my soap box out of storage yet and I have nothing to get on it for. This whole blogging thing sort of hit me between the eyes. I wasn't quite ready for it yet. Mind you, I've been on computers for years and have space for my own homepage and I am still not quite ready for that yet. Maybe some times the best way is to just jump in with both feet. I keep thinking that if I have a home page, what will I put on it? So there it sits, ready to be used and I haven't a clue.

Most people I have seen in the blogging world are younger people. I guess it is because when you get older - like me - you forget a lot - and I mean A LOT. You forget what you are there for. What was it I was supposed to write? What is my site called again? The younger people can write about their kids and their adventures while us older people can write about our aches and pains.

It is funny that as you get older and you ask your friends how they are they begin to really tell you. When I was younger and I'd ask someone how they were doing, they'd say "Oh, just fine." even if they were suffering from a case of Malaria topped off with the Asian flue and two broken knee caps. At my age now, if I ask someone how they are, they say "Oh my goiter is acting up and I have to get an MRI and a dog and cat scan for the bumps that are breaking out all over my head. The doctor gave me some medication for the Swelling under my knees but says there isn't too much he can do about the loss of vision in my left eye, the deafness in my left ear and the way my head seems to wobble back and forth all the time. Other than the limp, I am fine." The strange thing is that I do the same thing. I actually think people really want to know. Why do you think that is?

Speaking of old age. I find it so fascinating that when I look in a mirror, I don't see the real me there. I see someone else. Inside this body of mine is a whole other person that hardly anyone else really knows. She is still young and much prettier than the old hag that looks at me from the mirror now. She came quite a few years back and just stayed. This body around her has aged and can't do half the things it used to do, but, the girl lives on. She wants to be with the young folk and doing young things, but the young folk look at her like she is soooo weird, and then the body doesn't co-operate worth a darn.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could get a second chance. I would take much better care of this body and keep it exercised so when I got this age I could still do things I did when younger. But we were young and didn't believe anyone when they told us, so now we suffer the affects of aging.

I often think of the people in the Bible that lived 700 and 800 years old. What do you think they looked like? Do you think they aged as fast as we do? I think at 100 years old they would still be like kids running and jumping and having fun. What would I do with another 700 to 800 years of life? I think I better get in shape or ship out if I have that much more time ahead of me. Bend and stretch......

Sunday, February 20

Over 50 and Bored

Here I am floating around in the blogging world and I don't have a clue what it is all about. This is my first blog ever.

Do I write to impress others or do I write for myself? Do I write corney stuff or regular stuff? Do I HAVE to write all the time? Do I just write random thoughts, serious subject matter, political stuff, regular stuff, or just stuff in general? Does anyone really care what I write at all? Do I expect answers to all these questions? Do I want to be read?

At the moment - no, I do not care to be read at all. Just wanted to see if I could do this. Also would like to have a diary of sorts but not take up space on my puter for that. Just want to sent it out into the air. Maybe other worlds will catch it and read it.

Stuff. Notice how often I wrote that word. Stuff. Isn't it the greatest word ever. I love the word. George Carlin once had a spoof on the word and I loved it. We all go around gathering stuff and doing stuff all the time. We build stuff and then we fill the buildings with stuff. Then we need more buildings for more stuff. It never ends. We have stuff that holds other stuff, we have stuff to put in stuff, we take stuff with us wherever we go, we wear stuff, we eat stuff, etc. Great word. Stuff coveres everything and everyone.

As you can see, I am writing random thoughts. Whatever comes into my head. Isn't that sad?

I earlier mentioned other worlds reading my blogs. I think that all around us is another world - a spiritual type world that is going on right along with our world. They can see us but we can't see them. They stick their noses into our world and toy with us but we don't ever get to glimpse their world. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just pull the curtain back and see what they were up to for awhile and mess up their plans.

It blows my mind when I think that all around me there are baseball, football, hockey games going on in my living room. There are movies and songs being played all the time but I haven't the proper receptors in my brain to tune into these things and yet they are there all the time. How can a television set or a radio just pick them out of the air and our own brain can't. Electricity - we just flip a switch and it is on. Where does it come from and where does it go when we flip the switch off. It is a whole other world.

And we have this blogging world. People from all over the world writing their thoughts and sending them out to who knows where. Who reads them? Who cares what we have to say? For some reason we all have to have our say though. If Tom Dick or Harry get to say something - then I want to say something as well. It's only fair - right? Some entertain with their blogs and get dozens and dozens of readers. Some just write and are left all alone in their little universe. What they say doesn't matter to anyone - or so they think, but, there are many worlds out there and someone, somewhere IS reading.

So I say this to whoever may be reading this. I'm over 50 and bored so I am wasting time by writing random thoughts. What's your excuse for reading this junk?

One of Six Checking In

This is one of six checking in.

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