Living Life with Joy: How Quickly Time Passes

Living Life with Joy: How Quickly Time Passes: Time. It runs at different times depending on where in your life you are at any given moment. When you're a baby you can't wait to...

How Quickly Time Passes

Time. It runs at different times depending on where in your life you are at any given moment. When you're a baby you can't wait to get up and walk on your own two feet. From then on it's all just waiting for that next turn of the clock. How soon can I go to school, when can I stay up later than my current bedtime. When is summer going to get here? I can't wait for Christmas. It seems like we spend our entire lives waiting for the next chapter. But what happens when your chapters are at an end.

Eventually, time runs out and life as you know it changes. It usually happens subtly. Somewhat like someone whispering in your ear. You wake up one day and see the first wrinkle or the first gray hair. I found both of mine at the same time. I had been in a physically abusive relationship before the idea of safe houses existed. I had a safe house to go to but it was only by chance that the abuser had no way of finding me.

It took me many years before I was ready to face the fact that I was indeed getting old. My hair was more gray than blonde, more gone than not, and I decided that I was going to dye this hot mess into something unique. I bought the brightest red hair dye I could find and colored my hair with it. My husband came home and nearly fainted.

Of course, it wasn't my first dye job nor will it be my last but it was the first experiment with an odd color.

When my friends, Honey, and Michael, came to see me this summer, they thought it was "really red". I didn't care it was fun.

When Honey and Michael were on they're way home, Honey, who is addicted to Starbuck's stopped at one in Albuquerque and tripped on a rug going out the door. She managed to break her left hip and leg in the process. Since they live in California and she was in New Mexico at the time, Michael had to leave her behind at the hospital and continue on home.

Honey called me in a panic a few days after she'd been in the hospital and told me, "I'm being held hostage in a small room. They won't let me get up and they have me strapped down." She also told me she had a guard. I told her to let me speak to the "guard". Her "guard" who in real life is a nurses aide, told me that Honey was under some very heavy pain killers and was trying to stand up and take her out as well as her various tubes and hoses. Since one was a catheter, I for one am glad she wasn't able to pull them out. Lance and I left that morning for Albuquerque.

Six hours later we got to the hospital. Honey was so glad to see us and had to tell me all about the fairy's that planted flowers in the hallway that turned out to be weeds and that she and I needed to go pick them. There were other moments of nonsense but that one is the one I remember. It's a memory I'll treasure. Much like all of the other memories I have of our time together.

Time is running at a gallop for Honey. While she was in the hospital, she was diagnosed with renal cell bone marrow cancer. She had one of her kidney's removed a few months ago. It had a ten pound encapsulated tumor encased in it. Her doctor assured her that he got it all but doctors are after all human and they like all of us make mistakes.

They kept her in Albuquerque until it was safe for her to fly home alone. Honey has stage four cancer. There is no cure, chemotherapy will only give her a little more time. But when a little time is all you have left go ahead and do everything and anything you want. Honey wanted to show me that she too could be a little bit wild. She went right home, cut her hair short and colored it green with jello and aluminum foil.

I was impressed. I'm now looking at new ways to shock my poor husband into next week. Maybe I'll try some of that blue jello.......



Have a joy filled day, and if you find some time maybe say a prayer for my friend Honey.


Til next time,

Deb

A Review

A Review: 

A Review of:  If the Bed Falls In, by Paul Casselle, author extraordinaire

   As I sit here in my balcony stateroom on board the beautiful Carnival Liberty, am I enjoying the beauty of the Carribean Sea? No. I am stumbling around like a drunk on a two-day bender suffering from some kind of illness passed on to me by one of the various forms of little people, germ magnets really, that reach no higher than my hipbone, who somehow manage to propel themselves into me every time the ship lists. The waning and waxing motion leaves some ill in their beds with the dreaded sea sickness. Alas not me, I have been brought to my knees by a child who in their innocence left me with bronchitis and a 3-ton elephant sitting on my chest.

  So here I am in my balcony stateroom, not enjoying the crisp sea air or the gentle rocking of the ship as we make our way to Grand Cayman, a lovely island I have had the pleasure of visiting many times. The water there is like glass. Absolutely beautiful. But I digress. Since I am effectively stuck in my balcony stateroom, I decided it was time to keep a promise.

  First of all, let me give you a little background. I first “met” the subject of this missive when he sent me a message on Facebook. “I see you are a fellow author, my name is Paul Casselle and I would like to offer you the opportunity to read my novel, Conversations with Eric, for an honest review and in exchange, I will offer the same to you for one of your books.”   I was slightly taken aback by the request because Paul writes thrillers and I write children’s books for ages 2-5. I promptly agreed but felt I had to inform him that it would be a very lopsided arrangement. He understood but still wanted my opinion. 

  I loved Conversations with Eric. For the same reasons that I have loved every one of Paul’s books. They are an honest look into the mind of a master storyteller. Something that no matter how long a time, I live, or what I endeavor to write, mine will never come close to being as stellar as the missives that Paul writes.

  From that time forward a wonderful friendship blossomed. I use the word friendship in the same way that Amazon, my favorite place in the world for shopping, uses the word friendship. It seems that if we are “friends” on Facebook, then we must, therefore, be using our “friends” to write reviews for us. And as such our reviews are denied as we are "friends". So I am using this alternate method to introduce you to some outstanding authors that I have became "friends" with over the last few years. This is the first. 

   As “friends” on Facebook, we share in the grief of the loss of a beloved friend, Eric. (Paul, I was devastated to learn of his passing, my heart broke that day as I too lost a beloved friend), or the passing of my daughter, Bobbie Ann.  We laugh at shared stories and encourage one another to be the very best we can be. We rejoice over a new release, If the Bed Falls In, by Paul or ABC’s Fun Fact About Animals, by yours truly. The highs of taking a relationship to the next level, or the lows of losing a parent to dementia. So here’s my answer to you dear Paul, to a question you recently asked me.  “Deb’s I know you said you loved, If the Bed Falls In, but why did you love it? Here my friend is my response:

  Dearest Paul, What a vexing question you had the audacity to ask me! You might as well have asked me, why do you love sunrises or sunsets? The way ice cream tastes as it melts upon your tongue. Or even the way the first taste of a summer peach or a winter orange make you dance with joy. Or even the most obscure one of all, why do you love all aspects of nature with pure abandon. Even scary spiders that if they make their presence known and stay out of my hair, it’s live and let live.

  So here dear Paul is your answer, I loved it because. It was the first taste of a grape bursting on your palette, or the brush of an artist's hand to a blank canvas.  It was well written. It made me laugh, it was intriguing and this grammar nazi couldn’t find one thing to complain about other than the fact that some British spellings are different than the Americanized versions.  Defence is transformed to defense and if not for that I would have nothing to write about. It was quite simply, stunning. The characters were so real that they jumped off the pages of my kindle to act out the scenes in front of me while I applauded the performance.  You, dear Paul, are an artist and I am so flattered that you chose me to be one of your readers. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to allow me to share in Tom/Joseph and the adorable Cyril, whom I am tickled to say, is a reflection of myself if I were in the same situation. Bravo for making me laugh and for allowing me to be your friend.

Deb’s

til next time, 

The Absolute Joy of Bowling with Dogs

                                            The Absolute Joy of Bowling with Dogs


   Maybe I'd better rephrase that before the local SPCA knocks on my door and tries to take my babies. My dogs were in no way harmed in the telling of this story. The year was 1982, and sadly the dogs in this story have gone to the rainbow bridge along with others I've loved since.


    I guess I'd better start at the beginning with this one. Some parts of this story, aren't so joyful. But oh my goodness the ending was priceless. And trust me, there weren't many joyful times in my life right then.

    I've always loved to fish. I've been fishing since I was old enough to hold my pole. I'm not good at getting then off the hook or baiting the hook or even putting a hook on the line. Okay, so I kind of suck at fishing but I still like to catch them.

   If you've read my bio you know I've been in a physically abusive relationship. Let me assure you now, I will never be in another one. I don't have a lot of happy memories of that time in my life, but this is one of them.

     Since I never let on to, let's just put it out there, The Abuser, hereafter known as TA, (which is kinder than what I normally say about him), that I loved to fish, I got to do quite a bit of it. Now that's either a good thing or a bad thing. Catching fish, good thing, no fish, bad thing. But that's not the point of this story.

   At that time, I lived somewhere in Arkansas. For only living there for four years, I have a lot of funny stories about it. I guess it comes from seeing the beauty around you regardless of the situation you find yourself trapped in.

    TA decided we needed to scope out a new fishing hole. So we loaded up the dogs and took off. By dogs, I mean my dog, Freckles a Queensland Heeler / Border Collie mix that was meaner than any snake I have ever encountered. She had one job in this life. To protect me. Always, against anyone. Including, TA. And the funny thing is, he never crossed her. I know now it was because he was a bully and had I known then what I know now, I could have brought him down myself.*

   But that's old news. Back to finding new fishing grounds, It's not hard in Arkansas or, at least, it wasn't back then. Water was everywhere. So were fish...and other things. But today was all about the fish. TA soon found what he thought would be a great new fishing hole. Yeah, not so much.
 
    Did I mention we were in Arkansas, well it rains in Arkansas. It rains in Arkansas a lot. It had been raining for a couple of days. Rain + Dirt = MUD therefore, MUD = LOL.

     TA found what he knew was a great fishing hole. And look, you could even see the fish swimming in it. He kept trying to get me to get out of the car and come look at the fish in this hole. Okay I finally got out of the car to go look at the "fish" he'd found and of course, the dogs jumped out with me.
 
     TA got so excited about the "fish" in the pond that he just had to get a better look. He slipped slid his way down the bank to the very edge of the pond with Rags right on his heels. They both stood at the edge of that pond looking at the "fish". All I saw was a long skinny thing that resembled a short, skinny funny looking snake. I know now that the things I was looking at were indeed a species of fish called an Alligator Gar.

      Well, it seems Freckles wanted to get a closer look too, so she got close to the edge and slid right down that bank and pushed both of them into the water right along with those ugly fish. She never swerved toward the gutter or slowed down, she hit them right straight on. TA couldn't get out of the water fast enough, and he couldn't even blame Freckles for pushing him in because he was the fool that wanted to get a closer look in the first place.

   Yep, Karma does, in fact, come around and sometimes you even get to watch.

til next time,

Debbie

*TA had a sweet little boy named Rags that I loved beyond measure. He died of heartworms before we were even aware there was such a thing. Years later I was able to save my rescue Beau from them when he came to me instead of being taken to the pound. Sometimes life's lessons are hard. Karma also lets us make up for past mistakes, even if they were inadvertent.

Living Life with Joy: A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Raleigh

Living Life with Joy: A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Raleigh:             A Funny Thing Happened...........      My sister was getting ready to move for the second time since she'd been marrie...

A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Raleigh

            A Funny Thing Happened...........


     My sister was getting ready to move for the second time since she'd been married to her forever love. She'd already moved from her home in Galveston to her new home in Birmingham. Now she was moving from Birmingham to Raleigh. She had just moved from Galveston when the Hurricanes hit the Gulf Coast. And her home, sadly, was one of the homes that were damaged. We are thankful that she was safely away, and prayed for those that were still there.

     After her husband's residency had been finished, she moved to Raleigh for his fellowship. It was when she was in Birmingham that we went to see her. I don't remember anything about the trip over because my sister was in trouble. It was Christmas, and her unborn baby was trapped in a toxic environment. What we heard, come now they're in trouble. It also happened that it was my birthday.

       I got the greatest gift in the world for my birthday that year. The life of my sister and a beautiful baby girl that to this day is my special treasure.

The second time I went to Birmingham was a lot different. I took my Mother, and I paid attention to where we were going. I had to; I was driving. But the thing is, The only thing you see on the road to Birmingham from Texas is nothing. You see trees. The road signs say things like, Chattanooga next right. No Chattanooga, just more trees. Until you cross the Mississippi river. Then the scenery changes. Look it's a bridge.

    The next time my sister moved it was to Raleigh. I never got the pleasure of going to Raleigh to see her, but my Mother did. She told me this funny story.  Thanks, mom.

     Since Fellowship only lasted a year, they thought they'd just take the bare minimum and just make do. They rented a nice home and got moved in. They had great neighbors a wonderful park nearby and a place for Brandi to play. Brandi was a beautiful Golden Retriever. My sister was getting ready to move back to Texas at the end of the fellowship and was making lists of last minute things that she needed to get done.

  1. Take out garbage
  2. Settle up with Landlord, turn in keys.
  3. Poop in neighbors yard
  4. Don't forget sani wipes for the car
     
       And the list went on, but these are the finer points. Poop in neighbor's yard. My mom was helping her with this list, and she got to that item. She was going to ask about it when my sisters husband came in. He also looked at the list of things left to do.

      He looked at my mom, shrugged, and looked at my sister who was just coming down the hallway a bag of garbage in tow, and said, baby, why do we need to poop in the neighbor's yard? And who's going to do it. Of course, he was laughing all the time.

       She came out and said, "that was a note to remind me that Brandi had pooped in the neighbor's yard, and I needed to go clean it up." Nice man that he is, her faithful husband did it for her.

        A good laugh was had by all. I hope you have one too.

til next time.,

Debbie

A Not So Joyful Experience

                                               
                                                       The Day of the Not So Dead?


     Yesterday I thought I smelled something off in my laundry room. My laundry room not only houses my washer and dryer, but it also has a pantry area where I store my unused appliances. That's not to say I don't use them; I do, just not all the time. Anyway back to the phantom smell. I looked around and decided it had to be the trash. Which, by the way, is also in my laundry room. There is also a large covered container for the food I feed my three fur babies. And of course, the water drinker that resembles those that you find on top of the ones you see in office buildings, that people are always talking around.

      Quite frankly, I never understood the fascination with the water cooler. I'd rather talk around a nice fire or a bottle of wine, but that's just me.

        I turned my laundry room upside down trying to find the "dead thing." Since I have three fur babies, one of which I know likes to bring in dead things and save them for me to come home. Laci gave me the gift of stink while I was away from home on a cruise. She decided that my recliner would be a wonderful place to put the baby bird she found that had fallen out of its nest. The problem is that it takes a while to find the smell when it's surrounded by an entire recliner's worth of material and stuffing. It seems the bird had gotten wedged underneath the seat and between the liner and the floor.

        Needless to say, we went furniture shopping the next day.

        I moved the dryer out of the way and found many assorted items that missed the garbage can. The person who's responsible, who's not me, lives in my house and shares my life. I just sigh, clean up the mess and go on with my mission.

        Next on my agenda was the dog food container, the water drinker, and the washer. Thankfully I only got as far as the dog food container. It appears my "dead thing" was a potato that was passed it's prime. It was a new bag; I wonder if I can get a refund for the smelly thing? Nah, I am now the proud owner of the cleanest laundry room in town. I think I'll have some potato soup for dinner with the remaining potato's that aren't "dead."


Til next time,

Debbie